Glory Bee Farm

2012-02-08T09:51:00.000-08:00

Hey, thanks for stopping by. I'm trying something new with this post. I hope it works. Seeing as how I'm a total technical genius, I'm sure it'll be great.

Wanna know what it is?

There is a soundtrack to this painting! Isn't that cool? I didn't start out with Chris Ledoux in mind, but every time I worked on this painting I'd find this song running through my head. Click here to start the music, then head on back. I think you'll find the song and the painting complement each other very nicely.

Feel free to comment on how I'm probably the most tech-savvy person you know.

(Okay, just discovered you have to right click on that link and then hit "Open a new tab" to play the music and still stay on this blog. I'm sure there's a way to fix this but if you think I know what that way might be, you've clearly never met me. Hope to figure this out for future posts. In the meantime, yep, tech genius. That's me.)

Thinning the herd

2012-01-31T11:29:00.000-08:00

So here's a fun problem to have.

People are actually starting to ask to see my paintings.

Well, that's not the problem. I have a photo file entitled "Finished Work" synched to my iphone for just such occasions. Push a button and images of all my paintings are available at a moment's notice. But last night as I was showing my work to someone who might be interested in having a painting done, it occurred to me that a large number of paintings in that file were early works that I no longer feel represent what I am capable of. I found myself cringing and thinking, "Um, don't look at that one. Or that one. Or that one."

So my task for today was to ruthlessly edit that file and keep only paintings that I am truly proud to show off.

To tell you the truth, I was a little worried that there might not be much left when I got through. But know what?

There is.

Now if (when!) someone says, "Oh, you paint? Can I see?" I won't have to cringe.

Wanna see?

Gunther and Holly

2012-01-26T16:51:00.000-08:00

Look at these sweetie pies! I didn't get a chance to meet them until after the painting was done, but they both had just the personalities I imagined them to have. Gunther practically vibrates with the "Let's have an adventure!" vibe. Try and keep up, would ya?

Holly, on the other hand, might as well be speaking english, her eyes are so easy to read. "I love you. Did I mention that I love you? Well, I'll just be right here if you need me. 'Cause I love you. Did I mention that?"

What a great combination.

Thanks, Debbi and Steve for letting me paint your lovely dogs. So glad that you were happy with the outcome!

Old Faithful

2012-01-05T21:06:00.001-08:00

Here's my latest painting of my husband's Chesapeake Bay Retriever, Moose. I'm especially glad to have done it because by closest estimate, Moose is now 750 years old. Because we got him from the shelter we're not actually sure of his age, but the shelter people guessed that he was 4 or 5 then, and we've had him for almost 10 years. Any way you look at it, he's a senior citizen. He's also the most devoted dog you've ever seen. Can't you tell just by looking at him?

If you are interested in commissioning a painting of your pet, please send me an email at glorybeefarm@live.com

Good news and Gizmo

2011-08-17T09:01:00.001-07:00

Gizmo

Super G

The Chi

The Gizmobile

Agent Kumquat (Yeah, dont' ask. We don't know, either)

The Salty Sea Dog

This is but a short list of the weird names we call the dog. It doesn't stop there.

There are songs.

Lots of songs.
Any song you know, we have probably changed the words to it, and made it an Ode to the Small Dog. Plus a number of original compositions.

It's pretty weird, but it keeps us entertained.

(My sweet husband asks, at this point, that I clarify "Us" as "the kids and me, and definitely NOT him. Not. Him." Got it?)

There is also a National Gizmo Day. Seriously. It's November 14th. Because a couple of years ago, Gizmo got his picture in a calendar. Really. Wanna see?

My plan, for the last two years, was to blog about this on the actual day. Namely, November 14th.

You see how well that has been working out for me.
So I'm blogging about it now. In August. Because, apparently, it was that or nothing.

Besides, Gizmo is now world famous in a whole new way. His likeness is now hanging in the greatest little shop. It's called Canine Utopia and it's located on Main St. in Vancouver. Evan, the wonderful owner, has allowed me to display my paintings there in an effort to get the word out about my custom watercolor pet portraits.

If you have a dog, have had a dog, have ever thought about getting a dog or have walked by a dog in a public place and thought, "That's a really cute dog!" you should check out Canine Utopia. They've got super-premium dog food, as well as all manner of cute dog stuff. Say hi to Evan. Check out the art.

Tell them Gizmo sent you.

2011-07-27T08:39:00.001-07:00

Okay, I know some of you have seen some of these paintings before. I'm reposting them because: A.... I'm not totally sure which ones I've posted. B.... Even if I've posted them before it's been a while. And C...I'm really trying to get the word out about what I'm doing and focus on painting.

By the way, I'm gonna use "C" as the reason I'm so behind on posting on this blog. It's not laziness. It's NOT.

Anyway, if you've landed here, first of all, thanks. Second of all, um... thanks. And third of all, leave me a comment so that I can get the sound of crickets out of my head.

So, here's my plan. While I'm enjoying painting a wide variety of subjects, I've decided to narrow my focus. If you're laughing at the idea of me even having focus, well then, that just shows how well you know me.

Wait! Focus!

Custom pet portraits. That's where I'm going with this. So if you really love your dog or cat or hedgehog or iguana or horse and would like to have a custom watercolor portrait of your fuzzy or scaly or prickly friend, let's talk.

I work on 140lb watercolor paper, using fantastic artist grade paints by Graham's, Daniel Smith and Windsor and Newton.

I work from your photographs. Obviously, the better the photo, the better the painting. I prefer to see several photos of the same subject. You know your pet, and I probably don't, so I can't paint what I don't see.

An 11x14 custom portrait, unframed, is $300 and my turn-around time is currently 4-6 weeks. If you absolutely need another size, let's talk about it. For you super-organized types, it's not too early to start thinking about Christmas. You wouldn't believe what a great gift a custom painting makes.

Okay, that's it. That's what I'm doing. Tell your friends. Tell your enemies. Tell the guy who makes your coffee down at Starbucks. Then shoot me an email at glorybeefarm@live.com and let's get started!

One of these things is not like the other...

2011-06-21T09:13:00.000-07:00

There are many wonderous, delightful ways that my children are different.

One is blonde.

One is brunette. (Does anyone still say brunette? Should I just say, "One has brown hair"? I don't know. Whatever.)

One is a drummer.

One plays guitar.

One is almost a teenager.

One is still a teeny, tiny, baby 10 year old.

One doesn't mind a haircut so short that I worry that people will start asking if he is undergoing some sort of medical treatment.

One would be happy if he never got his hair cut again in this lifetime.

One is comfortable wearing a rainbow colored propeller beanie to school.

One, let's just say, is NOT.

And I truly, truly love all the things that make them different. Well, almost all.
But one way I wouldn't mind them being a little more similar is...

One would get his picture taken all day...

What a cheeseball.

And one... Well, I think he might be practicing for someday when he is a famous drummer and has to dodge paparazzi.

I'll get you yet, kid.

2011-05-21T09:56:00.000-07:00

Little different style for me. All hard edges. Bright, bright color. No subtlety. No background. No shadow anchoring the chicken to the ground. Looking for feedback. Do you like this style? Do you prefer some of the more complicated compositions of my other paintings? I'm trying to find a style to focus on, although part of me thinks that it's fun to do different styles. Also taking suggestions for a title. Okay. That's all I have to say about that. If you have an opinion, throw it my way. Unless it's, "Don't quit your day job." That's not really what I'm looking for. Ready... go.

No matter how long the winter, spring is sure to follow. ~Proverb

2011-05-14T18:30:00.000-07:00

I expect National Geographic to be calling any day now.

Playing with color

2011-05-09T09:53:00.001-07:00

Yesterday, for Mother's Day, my sweet boys (all three of them) gave me what I wanted most. Time to do whatever I wanted. That's right. After church, a whole afternoon stretched out in front of me with no obligations. No homework to help with. No hedgehog cages to clean. No soccer of any kind. Nothing but glorious freetime for painting as far as the eye could see.

So.....

I sat in my little studio with my current painting in front of me.

Cup of coffee?

Check.

Candles lit?

Check.

Music playing?

Check.

Fresh painting water?

Check.

Inspiration?

Uncheck.

Creativity?

Uncheck.

Ability to add one single thing to the painting in front of me.

Complete and total uncheck.

AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!

Why is it that I can never live up to the expectations of uninterupted painting time? It makes me feel like there's a little voice saying, "Okay, all your excuses are gone. Let's see what you can REALLY do."

I CAN'T TAKE THAT KIND OF PRESSURE!!!

Several times during the afternoon my sweet husband would find me reading, or pacing or playing computer games and gently say, "You need to go sit down and paint. Just pick up a brush and paint something."

And he was right, of course.

But I just could NOT do anything with my current painting. Could. Not. Do. It.

So I tossed it aside and picked up a picture of a chicken that I already had drawn in and decided to take a stab at it. My main motivation was that I had nothing invested in the chicken. If I screwed it up, I could just throw it away. That's very freeing, you know.

So I started. and the first section started out pretty good. But then I immediately screwed it up.
See that kind of purple area on the very front of the chicken? That is a very muddy purple, and MUDDY IS NOT GOOD.

But here's the thing. Once I knew that this painting was ruined, I felt free to try some new combinations of colors. I felt free to make notes right on the painting about what colors I was mixing. I felt free to mix some colors on the background area of the paper.

Some of them are pretty good.

Some of them are seriously homely.

I learned some stuff.

Someone once said, "Paint like you have all the paint and paper in the world." I love that advice. I learned some stuff, and all it cost me was a little bit of paint, and a piece of paper.

I can and will redraw the chicken. I'll use some of the colors I discovered on this rough draft. I will definitely NOT use some of the colors I discovered on this rough draft. I'm betting I'll come up with a pretty darn good chicken.

Best of all, by the end of the day yesterday, my creativity was back and painting was fun again. That's a pretty good payoff for a screwed up picture of a chicken.

Amber Waves of Grain...

2011-02-14T11:21:00.001-08:00

This is my first commissioned painting, which, I gotta tell you, makes me feel like a pretty big deal.

Wheat is harder to paint than you'd think.

Enjoy, Karenpie.

Happy trails to you...

2011-01-26T10:52:00.001-08:00

Moonlight Ride

This painting and several others are available for sale. If you are interested in seeing what I have available, or talking to me about having a painting made from your favorite photograph, just leave me a comment.

Just a little update...

2011-01-06T14:40:00.001-08:00

The Grist Mill

Grandma and Nate

Just a little painting update. Both of these went as Christmas presents and so could not be revealed until after Christmas. Yes, I know Christmas was two weeks ago, which makes this AFTER CHRISTMAS!

The top painting is the Grist Mill up on the Lewis River. It's fun to visit in the fall when they use the water power of the grist mill to make fresh apple cider. If you haven't gone, you should try it.

The bottom painting is my mom and my sweet nephew Nathaniel.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to stop procrastinating and go actually paint something.

If you hear a voice within you say, "you cannot paint," then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced. -Vincent Van Gogh

2010-12-06T13:00:00.000-08:00

I am a creative dabbler. I can walk through Michael's or Joann's or Craft Warehouse and see 10 different crafty things that I think I'd like to try.

Here is a far-from-comprehensive list of things that I have tried:
*Photography

*Knitting

*Counted Cross Stitch

*Baking

*Blogging

*Writing

*Scrapbooking

*Stamping

*Card Making

You get the idea.

I've had varying levels of success and enjoyment with these and other methods of creative expression.

But for the last couple of years I have felt deeply dissatisfied with the dabbling. I'm tired of being a Jill of all trades, master of none. I have been searching for the "One Thing." Please picture Jack Palance in "City Slickers."

Now, please do not misunderstand me. In the big picture of my life, the One Thing is my relationship with God, followed by my family. Nothing else even makes the list. Nothing.

But I'm talking about the One Creative Thing. One thing that I don't get tired of within a year. One thing that I can do well. One thing that I find challenging and satisfying at the same time.

I've brought this longing to God, feeling a little trivial. A little silly. Wondering, in the grand scheme of things how important this is.

Here's the thing, though. God wants us to give Him all of ourselves. Not just the "spiritual" stuff. Not just the life-or-death stuff. All the stuff.

All the stuff.

So, when I see God answering my trivial, silly prayers by showing me that I AM A PAINTER, I am reminded in a very real way how much He loves me. How much my smallest concerns matter to Him. And all of a sudden, I don't feel so trivial after all.

I think I might be a genius

2010-10-19T20:06:00.001-07:00

Okay, I know I'm not a genius, but I'm pretty sure I'm improving, if I do say so myself. And can I tell you how much fun I'm having????
This painting was a birthday gift for my dad (happy birthday, dad!) My dad can draw like nobody's business and has been so encouraging me with this painting stuff. Still, giving him something I made for his birthday felt a little like giving him a macaroni necklace, and, you know, that's just not as cute when you're not four years old.
I think he liked it, though.
Dads are pretty great that way.

Surprises are fun!

2010-10-07T12:42:00.000-07:00

My sweet, sweet friend, Angel, moved away a year ago. Not just away, but AWAY. As in, Alaska. And not even metropolitan Anchorage. No. Homer, Alaska. Which I suppose is what you do when you're a good, supportive wife and your husband gets a job there.

But still. What about her friend in Battle Ground who totally misses her? What about that, I ask you?

So, when Angel posted a picture of her beautful daughter having the time of her life going over a jump, I thought, "I know what to do! I'll see whether I can paint that picture and send it to her and it will be a big surprise!

Confession... part of the reason for not mentioning to Angel that I was painting this picture was the fact that I figured, well, if the painting is horrible, I'll just throw it away and nobody will be the wiser.

I also figured, well, if the painting is not too horrible and I do send it, she won't be disappointed that it didn't live up to her expectations, because she doesn't have any!

Wasn't that clever of me?

So, here is the end result, which I was actually pretty happy with. I think Angel was, too.

Miss ya, sweetie.

New Paintings

2010-06-01T14:24:00.001-07:00

Mason. Faces are really hard.

Summer to Fall

Tango

Even Lego guys get the blues...

2010-06-01T14:18:00.000-07:00

OH MY WORD... WILL IT EVER STOP RAINING???
Mason had a book about building Legos and one dreary, rainy day Max decided to make this little guy. He wanted me to tell you this, in case you somehow got the idea that I built this guy. I didn't. Happy, Max?

Chapter 24 In Which We Acquire Walter Wedgie, the Wonder Hedgie

2010-05-19T09:20:00.001-07:00

Also officially known as Spike.

So here's the very sweet story of how a little boy named Max got his heart's desire.
Okay, first you must know that Max's heart's desire is a hedgehog. Apparently, there is no accounting for heart's desires.

Somehow, about 6 months ago, Max got it into his little head that more than anything else in life he wanted a hedgehog. A little random, but, okay. Whatever.

Here's the problem, though.

Hedgedhogs are quite trendy, and as you may know, the trendier something is, the more expensive it is likely to be. Hedgehogs are no exception.

If you google hedgehogs looking for a breeder or just someone who has one for sale, you're likely to find that a hedgehog is probably going to run you in the neighborhood of $250. I know. Yikes. And that's before you start purchasing the vast quantities of gear that a happy hedgehog needs and wants.

So we told Max, "Better start saving your money."

Those of you who are parents know that at this point Mark and I are thinking that Max is going to lose enthusiasm for hedgehogs WAY before he earns enough money for one.

So...

Max takes a shoe box and uses stickers to label it "Hedgie Fund" and puts in the $1.58 that he has saved. And then the $2 he earns for doing chores. And the $5 his grandpa pays him for washing his truck. And time goes by.

Occasionally, something at the store looks very tempting to Max, but with a little encouragement he manages to forego plastic toys, video games and trading cards. And time goes by.

Meanwhile, just out of curiosity, I'm keeping an eye on craigslist to see what's available as far as hedgehogs are concerned. They don't come up very often, but once in a while there is a hedgehog listed, always for a lot of money.

But one day, after I drop the kids at school, I pull up craigslist and search for hedgehogs and there is a listing for one. It doesn't name a price, just that the owner is very concerned with finding it a good home.

Now, at this point I know that Max has saved exactly $40. A huge amount for a 9 year old with cheap parents to sock away, but not even in the ballpark of what one might expect to pay for a hedgehog.

Still...

I figure it can't hurt to shoot this person an emamil explaining that I have this 9 year old, hedgehog-obsessed son, etc...

So I write a long letter telling the story of Max's quest, and explaining that he only has $40 but he's saved it all himself and that his dad and I would front him another $10 and if there's any way that she would consider taking $50 to please give me a call.

And I'm thinking, yeah right. That's the last I'll hear of that.

But, wonder of wonders, this young woman calls me and says that although her email box was jammed with responses from people wanting to buy her hedgehog, and although mine was nowhere near the first response she received, she read my letter and decided that Max absolutely HAD to have her hedgehog and she hadn't even contacted anybody else.

Let me tell you, there's nothing like telling your kid something that makes them so happy that they cry. I'll never forget telling Max the (intentionally drawn out) story of how I had found this ad on craigslist.

He just stood there with his eyes getting wider and wider and filling up with tears until I got to the end of the story. Then he whispered, "Does that mean I get the hedgehog?"

We drove down to Portland the next day to get Dexter (now, Spike) and Max brought in his "Hedgie Fund" box, and he just about cried, and the woman just about cried, and she told him that he should keep the coins that comprised part of his $50 because he would need a start for whatever he decided to save for next. She explained all about caring for a hedgie and then loaded us up with every imaginable thing that a hedgehog could need: cage, travel cage, playpen, wheel, bath stuff, blankets, food, even a book and a little decorative hedgehog figurine.

Spike is now happily integrated into our family. Max is a happy hedgehog owner and I am beyond grateful to a young woman in Portland who passed up maximum profit to fulfill the wish of a little boy she didn't even know.

Sheep

2010-04-23T17:32:00.000-07:00

If you hear a voice within you say "you cannot paint," then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced. -Vincent van Gogh

2010-04-17T13:43:00.000-07:00

"Buddies"

"Gizmo"

"Rise and Shine"

"Stella"

Beanie Boy

2010-03-22T14:47:00.000-07:00

Moose

2010-03-18T11:10:00.000-07:00

Well, who knew I could do that?

Here's the picture of Moose I painted for Mark for his birthday. Can I tell you I'm just tickled with it?

This is my first real painting and I had a blast doing it.

I'll tell you what, though. It won't be my last.

Congratulations Ramona Krueger!

2010-02-05T15:51:00.000-08:00

Well, the deadline has come and gone and we have a winner in the first ever, "Lucy Likes It" contest. Ramona Krueger! Ramona, I'm sending you an email with the gift certificate information you need.
Thanks to all who participated. You kept me from forcing my sweet husband to read this blog so that I would at least know that it had been read by one person.
Thanks, too, to River City Rubber Works. Your stuff is the best.
Watch this space for more contests in the future.

First ever "Lucy Likes It" Goodie Give Away

2010-02-02T12:24:00.001-08:00

Hooray! Something new and fun today. And it involves a PRIZE!

Whether you are kinda-crafty, super-crafty or not-so-crafty you've got to check out these fantastic stamps from River City Rubber Works.

I first discovered this fantastic company when my friend karenpie made me a card with this stamped on the back...

How can you not love that?

So I found out from Karenpie where she had aquired such a hillarious and absolutely essential stamp and she told me that she found it in a little shop in Kansas when she was back there visiting family.

Seeing as how there are no trips to Kansas in my immediate future, I was understandably crushed.

But, then... A CLUE!

Upon closer inspection I noticed that the words "River City Rubber Works" were stamped on the back of the stamp.

Haha. Get it? Stamped on the stamp. That's funny!

***crickets chirping***

Okay, never mind.

Anyway, a quick google search led me to the charming River City Rubber Works web site. That site turned out to be way more entertaining than about 90% of what's on TV.

I thought about buying everything they had, but decided that I didn't want to spend the rest of my life explaining to people that I got divorced because I bought too many stamps.

So, with extraordinary self discipline (and a plan to go back later and buy more) I limited my purchase to this:

And, of course, this:

And, how could I be expected to pass up this:

If I had to choose, which, clearly, I didn't, I'd have to say that this last one is my very favorite.

Now, the very good and fun news.

You DO have to choose!

The unbelievably kind people at River City Rubber Works have generously donated a $10 gift certificate to be given away to one lucky reader of this blog.

I say lucky, because I have not yet hit the big time and acquired millions and millions of readers, so your odds of winning are actually pretty darned good.

All you have to do is leave a comment in the comment section for this post, completing the following sentence:

"If I knew I could not fail, I would love to try..."

This is a nod to my recent attempts at water color.

This contest will remain open until, oh, say, Friday morning when I get up and check the results.

My plan is to figure out how to use a random number generator and pick one answer at random, so anything (family friendly) goes for an answer.

And hey, if nobody responds, don't think I won't use that gift certificate myself, because I WILL.

Thanks again, RCRW!

How careless of me!

2010-02-01T20:09:00.001-08:00

Much gratitude and all credit goes to Shandra Aho for bringing life to my alter ego. Thanks Shaunie!

Meet Lucy and Gizmo

2010-02-01T14:07:00.000-08:00

Oh, are you in for a treat today! I'd like you to meet Lucy and Gizmo.

Lucy, for those of you who don't know, is my alter-ego. My sweet husband calls me Lucy when I come up with some completely insane plan, like, say, jack-hammering up the drivway of our house in Clackamas and fitting it back together like a puzzle with ground-cover moss growing between the pieces.

No, I didn't actually do that. I would have, but I couldn't induce Mark to run the jack hammer.

Or buying seven Nigerian Dwarf goats because I wanted to name them after the seven dwarves (dwarfs?). Dwarf goats. Get it?

Couldn't get the go-ahead on that one either.

Anyway, Mark has taken to calling me Lucy, after a certain 1950's redhead who was well known for "havin' some 'splainin' to do."

Gizmo is actually real and he looks alot like the picture.

See?

He's my sidekick, and probably the best dog ever. Sorry, Giz. Not probably. He IS the best dog ever.
He never tells me my ideas are insane.
How many dogs can you say that about?
So anyway, Lucy and Gizmo are the new official hosts of the Glory Bee Farm blog. So don't blame me for any craziness that shows up here. It's not my fault. Honest.

Oh, the terrifying potential...

2010-01-28T12:43:00.000-08:00

It's too much, I tell you. Too much!

I've wanted to learn to paint with watercolors for ever so long, and finally, I have a chance to take a class at my kids school. So, with encouragement from another mom who also wanted to take the class, which, by the way, is for 8th graders, I said, "Sure, why not?" and signed up.

It was so exciting to go to the craft store and buy this pretty, pretty box of watercolor paints.

See, isn't it a pretty box? Isn't it alluring and seductive? Doesn't it just scream, "If you buy me you will instantly be able to paint beautiful tropical fish?" Not that I necessarily want to paint tropical fish, but you get my point.

Don't you? Please tell me that you get my point.

Anyway...

I got the pretty box home. I laid it out with this:

and these:

And found myself completely paralyzed by all the perfect, pretty, pristine tubes in the box. Knowing that there was no way I could live up to their potential. That if I took them out of the box and, heaven forbid, tried to paint something, the only potential reaction to said painting would be, "Oh... that's not good."

But I tried anyway.

And this is what I got.

Um, those are apples, by the way.

Yes, they ARE.

Okay, if I already knew how to watercolor apples, I would not be humbling myself by taking a class with a bunch of 8th graders, who are by definition at the age where they know everything. So if you ever want to feel well and truly humbled, try learning a brand new activity in the presence of 8th graders.

My point being.........

Oh, yeah, my point being, you've got to start somewhere.

Take me out to the ball game...

2010-01-19T10:14:00.000-08:00

Yesterday. I'm sure I took this picture yesterday. Except this picture was taken the first year Mason played t-ball. When he was five.

He's not five now.

And he hasn't played baseball in, like, three years.

But please don't mess with my delusions. I'm quit attached to them.

And now, for all you yoga fans...

2009-12-14T20:39:00.001-08:00

Downward dog.

The Thanksgiving Queen's Stuffin' in a Punkin'

2009-12-04T18:51:00.000-08:00

This recipe is so amazing that I want to make it next year for Thanksgiving, but it's not the simplest thing in the world to make. So if you're thinking of making it for company, it might not be a bad idea to try it out once first. Also, it makes a really, really LOT of stuffing, so unless you're feeding a very hungry, stuffing-loving crowd, you might want to consider cutting the recipe in half.

You'll have to go to the end of this post to see the picture of the stuffing actually in the pumpkin, but it is. I promise.

Okay, so here's what you need. Next time I do this, I'll put the ingredients in larger groupings, and show them to you in fewer pictures. Oh, well. Live and learn. (Plus, I was having fun practicing with my new Nikon D90. If you're in the market for a camera you can't go wrong with this one!)

Okay, back on track. First you need a nice pumpkin, between 4-5 pounds.

16 oz of cornbread stuffing mix

Celery seed and fennel seed

Heavy cream. If anybody out there can tell me the difference between heavy cream and heavy whipping cream, I'd love to know. Karenpie says they're interchangeable, and I believe her.

Olive oil...

Salt and pepper. See what I mean about maybe using fewer pictures next time?

Granny Smith apples, an onion, an orange and garlic. Please disregard the second orange. Two turned out to provide too strong of an orangey taste. Please also disregard the lovely scallion. That was for the chicken recipe I was making, but I got confused.

Some lovely Sauvignon Blanc. Or if you are freaking out at the grocery store because this recipe calls for a lot of groceries and your budget is stretched to its breaking point, then some cheap Sauvignon Blanc. I'm pretty sure you won't be able to tell the difference when all is said and done.

Chicken broth...

Eggs and butter. The cream got included again because it is a dairy product and I kind of had a theme going in this picture. Do eggs count as dairy? If not, just pretend, okay?

Sausage. I would have liked to have used turkey sausage, but my grocery store didn't have any. What's up with that?

Okay, let's begin, shall we?

Time for your lobotomy, Jack! Bonus points if you can tell me where that quote is from.

When you cut off your pumpkin's lid, it will look like this...

When you are done cleaning it out, it will look like this...

That step is a pain, and it almost had me bailing on this project before I even started. But don't bail! You'll be glad you stuck it out.

Brush the inside of your nice, clean pumpkin with melted butter. Then sprinkle it with salt and pepper. I didn't take a picture of that step. Even I have my photographic limitations.

Put the lid back on the pumpkin and place it on a roasting rack inside a roasting pan. If you do not have a roasting rack, try putting it on a cooling rack on a cookie sheet. It worked for me. Stick it in the oven and bake it for 15 minutes at 350 degrees. Then, remove it and set it aside. You've got alot of work to do.

First, chop up one medium onion.

Then mince three cloves of garlic.

Then peel, core and chop two Granny Smith apples. The size of the pieces is up to you. I made mine kind of big. I think I'll make them smaller next time. Mason thought the big bites of apple were kind of weird, but, hey, he's eleven. He thinks lots of things are weird.

Zest an orange. This time around I zested two, but it was too much. It's up to you though. If you like a nice strong orange flavor, go for it!

I've never zested anything before. I thought the oranges looked kind of funny, so I included an after shot of them, post-zest.

Parsley...

Sage...

That's it. There is no rosemary or thyme. You're singing it, though. You know you are.

Anyway, chop about 1/8 of a cup of each herb. I used more, but again, too much.

Pour about 2 Tablespoons of olive oil in a nice, big frying pan. Turn the heat up to medium.

Now take all that stuff you chopped and minced and diced and zested and throw it in there, along with 1 teaspoon each of fennel and celery seed. Season the whole deal with salt and pepper, and then cook until fragrant. That'll take about 3 minutes and your whole kitchen will smell amazing.

Throw in 2 pounds of ground sausage and cook for about 10 minutes. Please make sure your sausage is no longer pink. Pink sausage is not your friend.

Then you're going to deglaze your pan. Deglaze is a fancy word, which in this case means throw 1 cup of Sauvignon Blanc in and stir it around really well to loosen up any cooked on bits that are stuck to the bottom of the pan. As my friend Karenpie says, those bits are the Fort Knox of flavor. You don't want to miss out on that! After you've loosened up all the yummy bits, let everything cook for about 2 minutes to allow the alcohol to evaporate.

Then stir in 1 cup of heavy cream. Now your mixture will look lite this, and it will smell like heaven.

Dump everything into a really big bowl.

Add 16 oz. of cornbread stuffing mix. Fold it all together. Gradually add 2 eggs (beaten) and 3 cups of chicken broth. Now everything will be nice and moist, and more importantly it will also be very close to being finished!

Now go get your baked pumpkin. I'll wait.....

Okay, now fill it with stuffing, put the lid back on and bake it for 20 minutes. When it's done, the eggs should be cooked and the lid should just be starting to lift off the pumpkin. I was worried about overfilling my pumpkin, so I didn't really pack the stuffing in there and the lid never did rise. Oh, well. You can't have everything. You can bake the leftover stuffing in a buttered casserole dish. Trust me. You'll have plenty!

Snickerdoodles, baby!

2009-11-11T15:37:00.000-08:00

This is the magic book of tried and true recipies in the Cunningham household. When this comes out, you know good food is on the way...

Today we're making snickerdoodles. These have got to be the easiest cookies in the world to bake. And they make your house smell amazing. And they're good. Really good. Good for an afternoon snack. Good for a bedtime snack. But absolutely not good for breakfast. Eating cookies for breakfast would just be wrong. Did you hear that kids? Your mother would never, ever have snickerdoodles for breakfast. At least when you're watching.

This is the snickerdoodle recipe that my mom made when I was growing up and it cannot be beat. That's a fact. Don't try to dispute it. Just trust me. And the beauty part is, you can crank out a batch of them in half an hour, start to finish. By the time you get done tasting the dough this recipe makes about 24 cookies. Notice I said, "you" tasting the dough. Not me. Never.

Anyway, it's easy as pie. Well, probably a whole lot easier than pie. I don't know. I don't make pie. Yet. Maybe later. We'll see.

First you make this:

Then you add this:

And please, whatever you do, don't forget this:

I do have to insist that if at all possible you use baking stones.

They make the bottoms of your cookies look beautiful. I can't make any promises about the bottom of, well, yourself, if you eat all the cookies. These are not diet food. They are made with Crisco, after all. Just one of the things that makes them taste so good.

You can always eat a couple of cookies and give the rest of them away if your lack of will power demands it. I'm sure you won't have any trouble finding good Samaritans willing to take these off your hands.

Here's what they look like going into the oven:

Here's what they look like coming out.

Go make some. You know you want to.

Grandma Marlene's World Famous Snickerdoodles

1 cup shortening

1 1/2 cups granulated sugar

2 eggs

2 3/4 cups flour

2 tsp. cream of tartar

1 tsp. baking soda

1/4 tsp. salt

Mix together shortening, sugar and eggs. In a separate bowl combine dry ingredients. Blend into shortening mixture. Form into 1" balls. Roll in mixture of cinnamon and sugar. Place 2" apart on baking stone. Bake for 10 minutes at 400 degrees. See? Couldn't be easier.

What happens here, stays here... (Part 1)

2009-11-04T14:24:00.001-08:00

Vegas, baby. First time. If you've never been, you wouldn't believe it. If you have been, you know what I'm talking about. It's every preconcieved notion you've got, but exponentially MORE.

Bigger.

Louder.

Sparkly-er.

Overwhelming-er.

Here's just a couple pictures. These are of the Neon Museum that is part of the Freemont St. Experience in the old downtown part of the city. I think I actually liked this more than the strip. Kinda retro. But, boy, howdy. walk about one block away from this area and you want to hold your purse a little closer. There's no in between to Vegas.

Glitz, glamour and Caesar's Palace.

Dark, barren, dangerous.

Actually, I don't know how actually dangerous it is. Maybe I've just been watching too many episodes of CSI.

Or maybe not.

I'm just glad Mark was with me. That's all I'm saying.

Please be patient with me...

2009-11-04T09:51:00.000-08:00

I am being a big brave dog and teaching myself how to customize this blog. Not having the most success just yet. So hang with me if things look a little whackadoodle for the next little bit. I think it will be really cool if I ever figure it out.

This one's for you, Dad.

2009-11-03T09:35:00.000-08:00

Givin' a little shout out (I'm 40 now. Is 40 too old to say, "Givin' a little shout out"? Probably. Oh, well. Deal with it.) to my dad this morning. Thanks for encouraging me to get my butt in gear and post a new blog. Since I know there's nothing my dad would rather see or read about than the grandkids, that's what todays pictures are of.

I will just mention, though, that today's pictures were taken with my new favorite toy, courtesy of my sweet, sweet husband, who spoiled my sox off for my 40th birthday. 'Cause I threatened him with dire, dire repercussions if he didn't. Can I just say, that he was more than up to the job of treating me like the princess of the world with a fantastic party, a trip to Vegas AND a new Nikon D90?

So... all that to say, here's some pictures of my boys. Bear with me as I learn to really make use of the new photographic equipment. I'm pretty sure you need some sort of specialized degree to really use that bad boy to it's fullest potential. I don't have that degree. But I'm gonna try. Stay tuned.

I love rock and roll...

2009-09-15T09:46:00.000-07:00

This is Max.

Max is an aspiring rock star.

Max's greatest desire is to start a garage band.

Max is eight.

Max told his dad the other day that he has his garage band all figured out. He will play guitar. His friend H. can play keyboard and be the lead singer. His buddy J. can play the drums. J. does not have drums. No problem. Max is going to save up and buy J. a drum kit. Max says that it's okay that it will take him a little while to save up this much money. It will give him time to really master his band's first song.

Yankee Doodle.

Rock on, Max.

September 11

2009-09-11T12:49:00.000-07:00

I knew the anniversary of the tragedies was coming, but I'm still amazed at how much like a punch in the stomach it felt like to turn on the radio this morning and hear people recount their experiences on that day. Of course everyone remembers where they were when they heard the news. I had gotten up at around 6:00 a.m. to nurse Max. He was not even a year old. I turned on the t.v. like I always did and tried to make sense of the footage on the news. At the time I put Max back to bed and went to wake Mark up, there had only been one plane. No one knew that the horror was just beginning. I told Mark about what had happened and went back to sleep. When I got back up and turned the t.v. on it seemed like the world was ending. Praise the Lord that Mason was only 2, and young enough to be completely shielded from what was going on. I took him to preschool and there was a note on the door instructing parents how to handle the day’s events with their small children. We didn't talk about it in front of the kids. At all. Adults couldn't process it, how could children? I am so thankful that even though my children were both alive on 9/11, the events of that day are no more than history that they have been told about as they've grown older, not something that they remember first hand. God bless the families. God bless the rescue workers. Let us remember how every heart cried out to God on that day. There was no indignation about national and world leaders praying. There was no screaming about separation of church and state on that day. Let us remember that our country needs God every day, not just on the worst day. May God bless you all on this September 11th.

"You did it! Congratulations! World's best cup of coffee! Great job everybody! It's great to be here." -Buddy "Elf"

2009-09-03T11:31:00.000-07:00

(I woke up this morning totally rarin' to get back at this whole blogging thing, but by the time I spent, like, 2 hours reconfiguring everything, I had lost every creative impulse I had. So... here's a "Best of GBF" rerun. Enjoy. I'll be back tomorrow.)

My family pretty much lives at the soccer field year round. Here in Washington that means a whole lot of Saturdays out in the rain, damp, drizzle, shower or downpour. There is no possible way that that is going to happen on a regular basis without some form of hot, caffeinated beverage in my hand. My husband started developing a twitch whenever he saw me with one of those $4 cups of coffee, so I’ve had to figure out how to make a passable facsimile at home.
Step one: Get the way-cutest travel mug you can find. Some prefer the ones with the removable paper liner that you can use as a template for printing your own pictures. Excellent choice. As far as I’m concerned, though, I’ve already proven my devotion to the small people in my family, by even BEING THERE, standing in the freezing rain at 8:00 on a Saturday morning, so I feel no guilt what-so-ever at choosing a caffeine receptacle that is all about me.
As we know, all about me starts with pink, and if it sparkles, all the better. That said, I have found my own personal, perfect caffeine delivery system, seeing as how I can’t get anyone with medical training to hook me up with an IV.

Here it is! The official pink, sparkly Gilmore Girls travel coffee mug. Have we talked about Gilmore Girls yet? Oh, don’t worry. We will.
But, now, back on task girls! You probably have only moments until one of your sweet little offspring will be screaming like a banshee for a shin guard or a water bottle, and as important as those things are, we both know that they pale in comparison to legal, addictive stimulants for mom. So, I’ll wait while you find your own perfect mug, but hurry or the kids will have you hunting for who knows what again.
Okay, got it? Good. Now, before we can get to the fun part of carrying around our cute mugs looking extremely hip (for moms) we must first put something in the mugs. That would be step two. Follow your own bliss regarding the schmanciness of the bean. I like to buy whole beans, ‘cause it’s just as easy as buying the pre-ground stuff and they taste so much fresher, but I’ll pretty much buy whichever brand is on sale. Then, because I can think of 18 bajillion other things to spend money on, I try to keep the rest of it super-cheapo. I’m talkin’ skim milk and cocoa powder. That’s it, girls. The soccer mom mocha. Remember, as long as the mug looks good, and there’s caffeine inside, you’ve pretty much got it made.

I am grateful for the lawn that needs mowing, windows that need cleaning and floors that need waxing, because it means I have a home. -Unknown

2009-08-26T08:35:00.000-07:00

I love my routine on the farm. Usually. Today more than most days, though, cause we’ve been gone for the weekend and I’m missing all the daily chores that tend to get so…daily when I haven’t had a break in a while. Gone three days and, oh, my word, there is not one piece of clean laundry between the four of us! One of the things I truly love about this house, though, is the clothesline. When it’s hot out, it is the clothes dryer. The electric one in the laundry room sees no action at all this time of year.
If you’ve never hung out your laundry, I highly suggest you give it a try. We have a great set up. Our long, covered back porch has a retractable, 5 string clothes line that you can pull across and secure so that it runs the length of the porch. It’s perfect, ‘cause it’s under cover. That means that should the unthinkable happen and I become distracted and leave the clean clothes hanging out for, oh, say, 6 days they are safe and sound even if it rains. There is something about hanging out your laundry. First of all, if I’m doing it, the weather is probably pretty decent. It’s also probably pretty early in the day. I like to give the clothes every opportunity to be dry by dinner time so that I can bring them in before bed. Except for the fore mentioned times when I hang them out and then leave them so long that the kids have outgrown them before I bring them in. Ha ha. Just kidding. That never happens. I’m on top of it. Always.
So anyway, if I’m out on my back porch, barefoot, hanging clean, wet clothes on the line, it’s usually at the beginning of a beautiful, sunny day, before it gets too hot. The robins and woodpeckers are making a racket. The dogs are out in the yard following the invisible scent trails left by coyotes, raccoon, deer and who knows what else crossing our property in the middle of the night. I can look in through the windows and see the boys making their own breakfast as they get ready for a summer day full of all the stuff two brothers can dream up. (Did I mention that I love the fact that my boys can make their own breakfast? There really are upsides to your babies getting bigger.) Sometimes there is a hummingbird visiting the feeder on the porch.
There is a pine tree growing right off one corner of my porch and right at eye level there is a robin’s nest. This spring there were three babies in it. It was so great! Every morning we watched the mama feeding the babies. Actually, it was a little disgusting, seeing as how the mama had to regurgitate everything the babies ate. They didn’t seem to mind though.
I love that laundry goes so much faster when you don’t have to wait for the dryer. In a couple of hours I can have 4 loads done and hung out and then I can just forget about laundry until after dinner. Then, at the end of the day I’ll have an excellent excuse to leave the dinner dishes to Mark and the boys. “I have to bring in the laundry,” I’ll say, all virtuous. The boys grumble less than usual about the dishes because they think they are getting out of helping with an even less desirable chore. Little do they know that I’ve been looking forward to this all day. It gives me a chance to be outside again, just as the weather is cooling a little. I’m not leaving the porch so I don’t need to mess with putting shoes on. I can feel the weathered porch boards under my bare feet and the sun on my shoulders as I unpin each shirt and sock and pair of jeans. The red plaid hanging bag steadily fills with discarded clothes pins and the stacks of clean clothes grow higher on the picnic table. I fold as I go and sort by owner, so that by the time I’m done everything is ready to be claimed and put away, not by me. Having all the laundry in the house clean, folded and put away at the end of the day is very, very satisfying. And it always is. Really.

Mason Rocks!

2009-07-30T11:41:00.000-07:00

Read about this video on the next post....

2009-07-30T10:46:00.000-07:00

Okay, I've never tried to put a video on this blog before, but the time has come. These videos are such a window to the past that I practically cried the first 7,823 times I watched them. Just kidding. I've really only watched them 4,986 times. But there was no almost about the crying.

You try being the mom of these two and seeing them like this, when they are now NOT like this anymore.

These videos were taken while the kids were riding on our church's float in the Battle Ground Harvest Days Parade. I think Mason is about 5, which would make Max not quite 3. Why, oh, why aren't they 5 and 3 anymore?

Like father, like son, like son...

2009-07-29T13:04:00.000-07:00

These pictures were taken a few years ago, but, really, they're just as funny now as they were the day they were taken. Mark's parents were over for our traditional Saturday morning breakfast, and Max wanted to try on Grandpa Vern's glasses. Then his hat. Then his flannel shirt. I ran for the camera, and things just escalated from there.

Can't really tell they're related, can ya?

Who is this grown up kid?????

2009-07-25T10:10:00.001-07:00

I got a Nikon camera...

2009-07-24T14:04:00.000-07:00

I love to take a phooooooooootograph,

Oh, mama, don't taaaaaake my Kodachrome away!

Name that song.

The Blue Man Show

2009-07-24T09:59:00.000-07:00

Okay so the good news is. Since Mark works for HP, he can "check out" very, very neato electronical type stuff to bring home and try. After a small amount of weeping and pleading and nashing of teeth my digital slr obsession was finally was high enough on his radar that he brought me home a Nikon D80. (Sorry to all my friends who live and die by their Canons.)

The bad news. Well, there are two bad newses.

First I have to give it back on Monday. (They'll have to catch me first!)

Second some of my pictures are coming SOOC with this weird blue tint to them. Not all of them. I can shoot a series of 5 pictures in exactly the same way and some are blue and some are normal. I can fix it in photoshop, cause I found the most amazing book: The Photoshop CS Book, by Scott Kelby, that is written with my exact level of technical ineptitude in mind, but really, what is the deal with the blue?????? Can any of my photog friends help me out here????

Oh, you meant it's hot...

2009-07-23T13:24:00.000-07:00

Mark tried to warn him. He really did. But Max can usually eat anything hot. He's like his dad that way. But not this time. We were in Cody, Wyoming, which, by the way, is one of my very most favoritest places. I was off wandering through the Traces of Light gallery, and trying to think of a way to get the photographers who own it to adopt me, and Mark was keeping the boys entertained and oblivious to the fact that their mother was thinking of running away to be a full time photographer.

That was when they found a little shop that sold all manner of jerkey (think antelope, buffalo and rattlesnake.) They also sold a wide range of salsas and hotsauces. If you ask me about it, I'll tell you about the one that is totally inappropriate to talk about in a public forum. They had a nice little table set out with samples of many of their delightful wares.

Mason, being a fairly reasonable person when it comes to hot foods stuck to the "middle of the road" salsa. Even that, Mark told me later, made his face go beet red, starting with his neck and working steadily up to his hair line, not unlike a cartoon character.

Mark was game for anything. Even the one with the warning label that said, "Hot! Hot! Hot!" Truth in advertising. It made Mark break out in a sweat.

So when Max asked to try it, Mark said, "I don't know if I'd do that if I were you." Max, undeterred, figured he was up to the challenge.

This is when his mother walked into the shop. Max had kind of a funny look on his face.

"Buddy, are you alright?"

And that's when Max burst into uncontrollable sobs.

This is my tough boy. The boy who eats everything his dad eats.

"What happened!!!!!!!"

Then I got the story. Sheesh. The two men who worked in the shop were standing around with blank looks on their faces. Uh, guys... do you think you could get a glass of water for this kid? RIGHT NOW?????????? Honestly.

We got the majority of the fire put out, but Max was complaining of a headache for the next half hour. Don't worry though. By the time I had walked all over half of Cody and found him some aspirin, not to mention a glass of water to take it with, he was fine. Of course.

Like we told Max, pain is temporary, but a good story lasts forever.

If you go out in the woods today...

2009-07-21T07:39:00.000-07:00

If you go out in the woods today,

You'd better not go alone.

It's lovely out in the woods today,

But safer to stay at home.

For every bear that ever there was

Will gather there for certain, because

Today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic

Wow, what a day we had in Yellowstone! Mark said he's probably been through the park about 20 times and he's never seen a bear. A shopkeeper I spoke to in the town of West Yellowstone said he'd lived there for 20 years and seen exactly one bear in all that time. I don't think a day like ours happens all the time.

When we were about 2 miles outside the eastern side of the park we saw a bunch of cars pulled over so we stopped, in true tourist fashion, to see what they were gawking at. Calmly munching plants 50 feet off the road was the sweetest moose. It made my day! The only other time I had seen a moose was on the very last day of our honeymoon in Yellowstone 16 years ago.

As we got in the car to continue on, we saw the same group of cars pulled off 100 yards farther along. We couldn't see what the people were looking at, so I rolled down my window to ask. A man told me that they had been watching a black bear, but it had moved off into the bushes and you couldn't see it any more. Man! So close! I was really disappointed. It would have been sooooo cool to see a bear. Little did I know.

From there we drove on into the Northeast, or Silver Star gate of the park. A few miles along, there was the usual wildlife traffic jam, and there, calm as could be, was a black bear having lunch in a meadow, about 50 yards off the road. Now I'm happy, happy, happy, cause I've finally gotten to see a bear in the "wild," even if it is in The World's Biggest Petting Zoo (also known as Yellowstone National Park. But wait. It gets better.

From there, we continued on, heading for Roosevelt Lodge for lunch. Before you get to the lodge there's a little bridge that you cross over. We were about the sixth car stopped on the bridge. That would be because strolling along right there on the bridge was a mama black bear with her twin cubs. Perhaps the coolest thing EVER. Unfortunately, they meandered off the end of the bridge and down the hillside to the river below before I could get any pictures. I don't know why Mark gave me the evil eye and threatened my life if I got out of the car to get closer for pictures. Honestly.

But wait. It gets BETTER.

After lunch we took a little side road because Max wanted to see the petrified tree. A little ways along this road were about 30 people staring off into the woods. Hmmm. That's a lot of people looking at a petrified tree. We got out and joined the crowd of gawkers and soon realized that there was a bear visible through the trees. Being a bear expert and all, my first thought was, "That's a pretty big bear." My second thought was, "They didn't have multiple park rangers stationed at the areas where we saw the other bears." Then I overheard one of the other camera-toting tourists ask the ranger, "Hey, what kind of bear is that, anyway?" Turns out this was no cute little black bear, but an honest-t0-goodness, get-the-kids-back-in-the-car-Ethyl, grizzly bear. Apparently, this bad boy had been hanging out in this general area for the last couple of days so the rangers had taken up permanent residence to ensure that some fool didn't allow his "I'm on assignment for National Geographic" tendencies to run rough-shod over his common sense. Why are you looking at me in that tone of voice? It wouldn't have been me. Seriously.

From there, we moved on down the road. We had become so jaded by our multiple bear experiences that we barely slowed down when we saw a family taking pictures of a black bear poking his head out of some berry bushes on a nearby hillside.

So that was our amazing day in Yellowstone. I'm expecting National Geographic to be calling any day now.

STELLAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

2009-07-14T13:54:00.000-07:00

Okay, here are the long awaited comparison pictures of Stella from her trip to Eugene. (Check out her "before" pictures on the June 26th post.) Much thanks and gratitude to Jordan Ryberg, trainer extrordinaire for all her help that weekend, and for taking the best Stella pictures ever. If you're looking for a trainer, check out her website at http://s1.webstarts.com/DancingHorsesRanch/ She's amazing and I can't recomend her strongly enough.

Although Stella didn't score as highly as I'd hoped, she behaved herself very well and I'm proud of her. It was a big outing for both of us. I also got alot of very positive feedback from some very well respected breeders and all in all, I'm glad I went. I'm hoping I can afford to enter some classes at the Clark County Fair with Stella. We'll see. In the meantime, doesn't she look gorgeous?

We interupt our regularly scheduled vacation pictures...

2009-07-14T13:46:00.000-07:00

To those of you who faithfully checked this space for updates of our trip to South Dakota (you know who you are...) I apologize for the delay. I found myself so immersed in vacationing, that I was disgracefully lax about blogging my vacation. That's about to change. Tomorrow. First, Mark has to transfer all my vacation pictures from his laptop to the home computer. I know, he should be doing that right now, but his priorities are woefully misplaced and he decided he would go to work instead of catering to my blogging needs. Very sad. Do stay tuned, though. There are a couple amazing stories that you won't want to miss, and there are pictures to go along with them.

P.S. There's a reason Mason isn't in the family picture in the last post. He took the picture. My baby has developed a passion for photography. It makes his mama proud. Unfortunately, it took him about one day to discover that his point and shoot birthday present cannot adequately capture images like Mt. Rushmore at night and wildlife half a mile away. If this continues, I won't be able to afford his hobby.

On the road again...

2009-07-04T20:42:00.000-07:00

I'm writing this from St. Anthony, Idaho. I know! Who's ever heard of St. Anthony, Idaho. Well, Mark, for one. Our hotel overlooks the Henry's Fork of the Snake River. For those of you who don't fly fish, that is a very big deal. I may not be able to get Mark to come back home with us. It's pretty, I will say that. It also, apparently, is quite the fly fishing river.

We left home yesterday and got to Mark's sister's house in Meridian, Idaho. We all did fireworks and then crashed there for the night. This morning, we caravaned with Mark's parents to Sun Valley for an antiques fair. I exhibited super-human restraint and spent no money. This was largely motivated by my memory of the most amazing cowboy antique store in Cody, Wyoming. We'll be there Monday. Of course, that place might as well be a museum as far as my finances are concerned. They are not givin' that stuff away.

After that we stopped at Craters of the Moon National Monument. Lava fields extended for miles and miles. I couldn't decide which was more dramatic: the rocks, the wind-twisted trees or the thunderclouds building overhead.

In the morning it's off to Yellowstone. Happy fourth, everyone!

You enter into a certain amount of madness when you marry a person with pets. ~Nora Ephron

2009-07-02T10:07:00.000-07:00

For those who haven't seen them, here are the sheepies and the llamas.

2009-06-30T12:34:00.000-07:00

I'm still waiting for my trainer to email me pics from the inspection, but here are a couple from Friday, right before we left. Stella was feeling quite impatient from having her fourth bath of the week and then not being allowed to roll. I swear next time I'm picking a breed with NO WHITE ON IT ANYWHERE!!! More info on the inspection coming soon...

Off we go...

2009-06-26T12:28:00.000-07:00

Here is a picture of Stella au natural in the pasture. I'll post "Inspection" pictures tomorrow for comparison.

Don't wait to make your son a great man - make him a great boy. ~Author Unknown

2009-06-25T13:33:00.000-07:00

Today I'm running around like a crazy person, but I am COMMITED to putting up a new post every day, just in case there's anybody out there with nothing better to do than check out this blog. So today, what you get is my favorite picture ever, of Mason. This was taken about two years ago up at our friend, Andrew's cabin. Man, that's a good looking kid.

Four score and 6 weeks ago...

2009-06-24T07:30:00.000-07:00

Starts out cute and quickly heads downhill. Mason was Abraham Lincoln for his school's Spring program. Speaking part. He did an amazing job. You could hear him and everything. His mama's so proud. After the program, his grandmas couldn't resist trying on his costume. Grandpa Bob could have resisted, but Grandma Marlene wouldn't let him. Speaking of the costume, muchas gracias to Grandma Evelyn. That woman created a very respectable (and recognizeable!) Abe out of supplies she had in the back of a closet somewhere. She's amazing. Really. I'm forever indebted. Without her, Mason might have ended up wearing a sign on his chest saying, "I'm Abraham Lincoln." Costume desing is not my gifting.

Tomatoes and squash never fail to reach maturity. You can spray them with acid, beat them with sticks and burn them; they love it. ~S.J. Perelman, A

2009-06-21T12:33:00.000-07:00

Is it weird to want to plant things just because of their "meaning?" You can look it up on the internet, but be careful. If you google, "herb meanings," you can get into some very creepy, new-agey websites. Don't do it! Still a lot of it is very quaint and charming and I'm such a sucker for quaint and charming. Did you know, for example, that cloves represent dignity and Angelica stands for inspiration? Righ now I'm inspired to get online and find out what Angelica even is!

Okay, I'm back now. It's amazing how fast you can edu-ma-cate yourself on the computer these days! Just so you know, Angelica, also known as Wild Archangel and Masterwort, is good for lots of things. Use it as a gargle. Make a nice tonic to strengthen the heart or a poultice for the healing of broken bones. It has antibacterial properties and can be used for washing the face or curing athlete's foot. The powdered root is said to cause disgust for liquor! Try slipping some in your underage kid's diet coke. That'll fix 'em! Plus, it's a very pretty, lacy white flower that reminds me of Queen Anne's Lace. So, Angelica goes in my little garden notebook as something to plant next spring. Not that I'll probably ever make a tonic or a potion or even wash my face with the stuff, but I do like the things I plant to have a charming story behind them.

If it doesn't have a cute story, it should, at the very least, have a fetching name. Black-Eyed Susans. Butter Beans. Pattypan Squash. Seriously. Have you ever seen a Pattypan Squash? They look like little flying saucers or agreeable little creatures that could live in your pocket, except, of course, they have no eyes. Eyes on a squash would just be wrong, but you know what I mean. I hope. Besides, when someone comes over to see your garden and says, "Oh, what are those?" you can say, "Those are Pattypan Squash." It's worth growing them, just to have the opportunity to say their name.

Pattypan Squash will fit quite nicely in a pumpkin patch. I don't know if you've noticed lately, but getting an adequate number of pumpkins for proper October decorating has gotten rather cost prohibitive lately. The last time I went to the farmers market and started doing the math on how many pumpkins I wanted for the front porch and the back porch and the side porch and the stairs and the front doorway and out by the end of the driveway, I started seeing visions of Mark's face in my mind. The look on his face in these visions clearly said that, to him, spending more than a hundred dollars on pumpkins was not only not okay, it was probably a sign of a relatively serious mental illness. So, I thought, "If I can't find a reindeer, I'll make one instead!" Oops! Sorry. Channeling the Grinch. What I meant to say was, if I can't buy 25 pumpkins, I'll grow them instead! Stay tuned to find out how that turns out...

M-I-C… K-E-Y…

2009-06-20T08:27:00.000-07:00

Want to see if you can guess my least favorite thing? Okay, I'll give you a minute to think. (Just know that in my head, the music from Jeopardy is playing...) Time's up. My leastest, most very leastest favorite thing is... going to start a load of wash and finding... a live MOUSE in my washing machine! See! I told you! Admit it. Now it's your least favorite thing, too, even though this has never actually happened to you. I'll bet you think I'm making this up. I guaran-double dog-tee you that in my most horrific imaginings I could not make such a thing up. Seriously. And, worst of all, that is exactly what happened to me 5 minutes ago when I innocently opened the lid of my washing machine to start another chapter in the endless saga that is Dirty Laundry around here. Yes, indeed. There was a little mouse staring up at me, unaware that it barely escaped having 20 pounds of smelly-boys-playing-outside-all-weekend socks and jeans and underwear dropped on its unexpecting fuzzy little head. I will admit that the shock of it was not nearly as cardiac arrest-inducing as it was the first time this happened, but still, it's not good. I don't enjoy it. Especially when the rodent in question has not yet given up hope of escape from its prison and is hopping with all its might, trying to scale the walls. Try having that greet you some morning before you've even had a cup of coffee. Trust me. Your adrenaline will spike so high that you'll never need caffeine again. The worst part of it, though, is that there is nothing at all that I can do about the porblem. Okay, read that: nothing I'm willing to do. My farm girl persona does have its limits, past which I revert to girly-girl. A mouse in the washing machine is way, way past my farm girl limits. So, not only can I not do my laundry (do you hear me crying over that?), but all day long today I will have to think about a poor little critter, scared out of its mind, trying to escape from its trap. Not knowing, as I do, that certain doom awaits it when Mark gets home. Don't ask what happens when Mark gets home. I promise, you do not want to know.

Moving forward

2009-06-19T15:07:00.000-07:00

All right, stay with me here, people. I know I've been a little sketchy on getting new posts out. The reason is, I've been considering bailing on the whole blog thing and focusing entirely on working on a book. Everything I've heard and read says, don't put anything on a blog that you hope to get published. Once it's out in the blogosphere you can't really plan on getting it published. Fish or cut bait, fish or cut bait????????????? Book or blog? Well, here's the thing. I may never in life get published and the pressure of it kind of freaks me out a little bit. So... That said, I'm gonna go from alternating between dinking around with this and ignoring it out of major blogging guilt. Let's do it! Besides, lots of the really fun stuff, like pictures, recipes and really way out there random topics just don't fit in the narrow confines of a possibly publishable book. So I'm touching base with my web site guru friend to see if she's totally given up on me. If not, I'm gonna revamp this whole deal and start having some real fun with it. I'm hearing crickets, so if there's nobody still out there, I'll totally understand. If you're still there, I'm impressed. Hang with me and let's go!

Summer afternoon - summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language. ~Henry James

2009-06-03T14:07:00.000-07:00

Last Friday was the last day of school. What a happy madhouse it was! Most of the classes found excuses to be outside for most of the day. Mason's class had a party outside that went on for hours. Other classes had recesses that ignored the whistles and bells that would summon them inside. Teachers were at least as glad as students to escape the classroom. For once the weather cooperated and the sun shone, warm and bright. Parents hung around, socializing. Kids yelled and ran around with their friends. Never ending snacks were served. Shorts and sandals were worn by all. Vacation plans were discussed. Promises were made to keep in touch over the summer. And, as if this weren't enough on its own, the last day of school was made even sweeter by the knowledge that the public school kids have another three weeks of school.

I want to have a good body, just not as much as I want to have dessert.

2009-04-30T13:16:00.000-07:00

Okay, so, I'm a fair baker, but what I really like is going to my friend Karenpie's house and having her organize everything and say, "Lisa, do this. Lisa, do that." I know it's weird, but that's what works for me. I'm an excellent assistant. I don't want to be in charge. I want to help. So Monday, that's what I did. I helped. I went to Karenpie's house to make the most tastiest little morsels ever dreamed of. I'm serious. I ate so many of them that I actually uttered the words, "I'm never eating chocolate again." After Karenpie and I stopped rolling on the floor and wiped the tears from our eyes, we each had another cake ball. Hey you don't build up the kind of endurance we strive for by quitting at the first sign of sugar overload. Don't worry. We're both very commited.

Okay, so here's what we made. Cake balls. If you haven't checked out Bakerella.com I'm going to start seriously wondering what's wrong with you. That's where you learn to make things that are chocolate and pink and cute. Can't beat it, I'm telling you. Cake balls come in many, many forms. Check out bakerella to see them all. Here's what we did.

First we (and by we, I mean Karenpie, but you knew that, didn't you?) fill little molds with melted Ghiradelli chocolate, so that they basically form the shape of a reese's peanut butter cup. Then, we dropped in a little ball made of cake and frosting mixed together into kind of a dough. Again, chocolate. Duh. Then, after that had set up, we dunked them upside down in melted pink candy melts, sprinkled them with sprinkles and topped the whole deal off with a pink m&m. Yup. That's pretty much all I need to eat from here on out.

Then, being the genius bloggers that we both are, we spent large quantities of time pursuing the perfect photograph of the little morsels. Karenpie, I am still experiencing extreme camera envy, so, if I were you, I'd keep a close eye on that Canon whenever I'm around. I'm just saying.

Young boys should never be sent to bed… they always wake up a day older. J.M. Barrie

2009-04-23T11:01:00.000-07:00

My babies... My babies are just finishing up fifth and second grades, respectively. Do I have to be ready for this? Part of me can't wait for summer break, which is, by the way, only 5 weeks and 1 day away. Man, I look forward to having my babies home with me all the time. Really, they are the most fun and I love having them around. Also, this is the first year that I've really been working on a regular basis, and since I'm working as a teacher's aid at the school, summer break is a vacation for me too, and don't think I'm not looking forward to that! But...Mason will never be in fifth grade again, and I'll never have a second grader again at all. Excuse me...

Waaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!

Okay, I'm done crying now. I know from experience that raising these boys just gets better and better as we move from one stage to another, but, I can't help it. It just kills me to let go of the stage we're in. I cry myself to sleep on the "eve" of every birthday my boys have. I put them to bed one age and they wake up another! Isn't there anything that can be done about this?????

PS- Notice the picture. I "photoshopped" out the background. I think I'm pretty cool.

Gipsy gold does not chink and glitter. It gleams in the sun and neighs in the dark. ~Attributed to the Claddaugh Gypsies of Galway

2009-04-20T15:58:00.000-07:00

This is Stella. She has just been bathed and clipped and brushed and sprayed and now it is time for her photo shoot. Stella says it is very hard work being a super model. Stella is getting ready for her big day. June 27th she is going to Eugene, OR for the American Haflinger Registry's official Classification and Inspection. That's what Stella is. A Haflinger. For those unfamiliar with these gorgeous creatures, Haflingers come from Austria, and are good for everything from dressage and jumping, to endurance riding, to therapeutic riding and giving lessons to children. So basically they are sweet, kind, smart horses that just happen to look like the equine version of a game show hostess. Just don't tell her that her butt looks big. She's very sensitive about that. Look for updates on Stella as her big day approaches.

I Dreamed a Dream

2009-04-20T10:04:00.001-07:00

Okay, apparently I'm the only person on the planet who hadn't heard this amazing Cinderella story, but I don't get out much. If there is anyone out there who still hasn't seen and heard Susan Boyle on Britain's Got Talent, click on this link. It's not every day that you get to see a 47 year old invisible woman get to outshine the sun.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxPZh4AnWyk

Blue skies, smiling at me. Nothing but blue skies, do I see. Irving Berling

2009-04-19T11:21:00.000-07:00

Definitely time for a new post, but seeing as how it looks like THIS outside, well... both of us need to get off the computer and go enjoy the day. Play, garden, hike, for tomorrow it may rain.

Do your part to make this world a cuter place to live in. -Susan Branch

2009-04-09T11:15:00.000-07:00

Today's daily dose of cuteness is brought to you by my nephew, Nathaniel, in the lamb sweater I knit for him. 'Nuff said.

Little man, big night

2009-04-06T08:32:00.000-07:00

Big day for Max and Mason, but bigger for Mom. Yesterday Mark helped the boys move Max's bed into the playroom and last night my babies slept in separate rooms for the first time, ever. I'm not ready, I'm not ready, I'm not ready. But they are. Whaaaa.

Congratulations, Mason. You rock.

2009-04-04T20:17:00.000-07:00

The rules of soccer are very simple, basically it is this: if it moves, kick it. If it doesn't move, kick it until it does. ~Phil Woosnam, 1974

Well, the Columbia Timbers ended their state cup today with a 3-3 tie. Mason was an excellent addition to the team and we are really, really proud of him.

What soap is to the body, laughter is to the soul.-Yiddish proverb

2009-04-03T10:37:00.001-07:00

Ta Da! The first batch of Glory Bee Farm homemade soap is done. This batch is an Oatmeal Honey Beeswax Scrub, scented with orange and clary sage essential oils. As my dear friend Davi said, it makes her want to take a shower and eat her soap. If you have any interest in purchasing Glory Bee Farm homemade soap, email me at glorybeefarm@live.com. Consider custom ordering a whole batch and knocking 15 people off your Christmas shopping list at once! Fragrances can be customized. Please allow 6-8 weeks time for delivery, as soap must cure for that long before it is useable.

If I ruled the world, every day would be the first day of spring. Leslie Bricusse and Cyril Ornadell

2009-04-02T12:48:00.000-07:00

Spring reminds me why I live in the country. Most days. Except when it snows all over the newly planted strawberry starts in my garden. I get a little anti-spring on days like that. It doesn't last, though. I mean, really. Look at that lamb. Spring lamb trumps spring snow any day of the week and twice on Sundays.

The Good Old Days

2009-02-14T10:29:00.001-08:00

Boy, I'll tell you what. In these days of intense, heart stopping, life-or-death kids sports (the boys are, after all, 8 and 10 years old, respectively), it does my heart a world of good to look back to the good old days when sports were fun and my kids were so stinkin' cute it just about hurt to look at them. Take a peek. I think you'll agree. Those are some CUTE boys.

Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.

2009-02-13T17:08:00.000-08:00

Wow. I am completely overwhelmed by an urge to reinvent my living space from top to bottom. I can't seem to get over it. I even day dream about buying a new house just so that I will have a fresh canvas to organize and decorate. Is this normal? Does anyone else ever feel this way? Maybe I've been reading too many decorating books. I wan't to throw out 90 % of what I own. I want every one of my belongings to be the exact right thing that just makes me happy to look at it. I want my house to be sparkling clean at all times, welcoming, cozy and charming. I want my friends and family to walk in the door and know exactly who I am by exploring my house. Well, actually, they can probably already do that. They walk in and think, hmm... This house belongs to a busy mom who spends her time enjoying her family, even if it means it's been a little too long since the floors were swept. What I really want, though, is for them to say, hmm.. This house belongs to a busy mom who spends her time enjoying her family but still has time to keep a sparkling house, have delicious, creative, healthy meals every day of the week, is creatively fulfilled and well read, and still has time to put her feet up. As soon as I figure out how to be that woman, I'll post my secrets on this blog and we can all be the envy of soccer moms everywhere. Don't hold your breath.

2009-02-10T13:27:00.000-08:00

Books to the ceiling, books to the sky,

My pile of books is a mile high.

How I love them! How I need them!

I’ll have a long beard by the time I read them!
Arnold Lobel

If the cruddy February weather is getting you down, go to the library! If you haven't been in a while, you'll be amazed at what you find. Most libraries have a remarkable selection of audio books as well as dvd's. Spend an hour just browsing in a section you'd normally overlook. Who knows what new interest you might uncover. Even the smallest children are entertained by an afternoon at the library. Check out a stack of books and the enjoyment will last long after you get home.

Close your eyes and hold your breath and always trust your cape. -Kathy Mattea

2009-02-09T16:25:00.000-08:00

Remember when you were a little kid, standing at the top of the playground slide? It looked like you were 100 feet off the ground. When you were a little older you felt the same way looking down from the high dive. Remember the heart pounding-palms sweating-stomach flipping-I'm going to die feeling? If you bit the bullet and pushed off down the slide or stepped off the diving board you also remember the total euphoria of the "I did it!" moment. If you couldn't quite summon the courage and ended up climbing slowly back down the ladder of either the slide or the diving board you probably look back on that moment and think, "I wish I would have..."

Those moments come to us as adults, too. It's amazing how large a new challenge can loom in front of us. Trying something we've never done before can feel just as terrifying as stepping off the high dive for the first time. Unfortunately, adults don't usually have the peer pressure we need to help us take that step. That's right, I said unfortunately! Peer pressure has a bad reputation, and often it's deserved. Often, but not always. A group of friends in the pool, so far below cheering, "come on, we know you can do it!" is often just the nudge we need to help us overcome our fear of the unknown.

As women we also need at least one cheerleader in our lives. Several is even better. If you don't think you have any cheerleaders in your life, think again. Often there are people around us who are positive and encouraging and would love to give us a boost when we need it, but the trouble is, if we don't share our dreams with them, they don't know how to encourage us! Think of the person that you know that is just a natural born encourager and be brave! Share your idea with them and come right out and say that you could stand to borrow a little of their courage. Bet you'll be surprised how willing they are to boost you up!

Now, be careful. Sadly, not everyone is a natural born cheerleader. Some people let their own fear of the unknown come out as doom and gloom predictions about anything new you might want to try. If you have one of these people in your life, see them as a blessing, too! They may point out some real obstacles that you may have to overcome. Seek the good advice that lays buried in their negative attitude, but don't let them kill your own optimism. Find solutions to the roadblocks they present, and you'll just be that much more likely to succeed.

Don't you wish you were here RIGHT NOW?!?

2008-11-18T19:04:00.000-08:00

Okay, let me tell you, this is the cutest place ever. Lori and Cathy (forgive me if I spelled your names wrong, ladies) run the darlingest, charmingest most addictive little store called Beyond the Garden Gate. It's right on Lori's farm and the first time I stopped in I asked if she would adopt me. (Still waiting on an answer on that, Lori). She carries cottage furniture, vintage finds, one of a kind treasures and gifts that you won't be able to bring yourself to give away. Stuff like that there. The thing is, these two ladies taste is right on the money and I would buy every, single thing they have, but divorce is never pretty. They're only open Thursday through Sunday, so while you're out doing errands that you don't want to do, but can't get out of, treat yourself to a little stop at Beyond the Garden Gate. Don't buy up all the stuff though, or I'm going to be very sorry I told you about this place.

17414 NE 199th St. Battle Ground, WA 98604

Stay tuned for the next post, when I'll tell you about the world's best paper craft store.

Marty the Wonder Dog gets his own post!

2008-11-12T20:21:00.000-08:00

Okay, here's Marty. Read the next post to figure out what that's all about.

The Bumpus Hounds

2008-11-12T20:07:00.000-08:00

Okay, to get the title of this post you have to have more than a passing aquaintence with what my sweet husband would call the only Christmas movie worth watching: A Christmas Story. You know, the one with the Red Ryder Beebee Gun and "you'll shoot your eye out, kid." Sound familiar? If it does then you may remember that the next door neighbors of the main family were the Bumpuses and their main claim to fame was owning, like, a billion hound dogs that bayed and howled and ran amok and generally drove everybody crazy. This week the Cunninghams have officially changed their name to the Bumpuses. Let me introduce: Gizmo, Moose, Voey, Patch, Spot the Dog and Marty the Wonder Dog. Know how many dogs is too many? Six. Oh, wow. I have so many dogs that blogger has cut me off before I could post pictures of all of them. I'll have to outsmart my computer by putting Marty the Wonder Dog on his own post. He deserves it anyway, seeing as how he's a wonder dog and all.

It ain't easy being a boy.

2008-11-11T13:55:00.000-08:00

For those of you who know my family, you know that injuries, bloodshed and trips to the emergency room are just the cost of doing business when you're raising two boys and are married to another one. Here's a delightful shot of the latest in a long line of spectacular war wounds. Mason and Max were having a pillowfight. When Mason dove head-first into his brother's pillow, he didn't know that it was sitting on top of a log bed post. No stitches or trips to the emergency room this time. Just spectacular swelling and bruising. Isn't it nice to have a sympathetic mother who makes you sit still so that she can document the latest catastrophe for her blog? I bet the girls at school are "Oh, poor baby"-ing him to death. I also bet that he doesn't quite hate it as much as he pretends. 5th grade is a weird age.

Another rainy day...

2008-11-09T13:54:00.000-08:00

Well, November is upon us full force. It's gloomy and wet. What a great reason to stay inside and bake! Here is the recipe I promised. The only condition is, if you and I are going to be at the same party, check with me before you bring this, cause it's my standby! :) I sent this to work with Mark two years ago for his departments Christmas Dessert Contest. It won first prize for most decadent dessert, and I won the cutest set of cookie cutters. Anyway, don't be afraid if you've never made a cheesecake before. This is the first one I've ever made. I'm pretty sure it's impossible to mess it up. Just make sure you make it when there will be people around to eat it, or you might end up eating the whole thing yourself...

Caramel Macchiato Cheesecake

18 Oreos (dont you hate it when recipies say "chocolate sandwich cookies?)
4 Tbsp stick butter, melted
1/4 cup semisweet chocolate chips
1/4 cup instant coffee-I use instant espresso
1/2 cup plus 3 Tbsp caramel ice cream topping
1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
1 packet unflavored gelatin
3 bricks (8 oz each) cream cheese, softened- don't use the reduced fat kind-seriously, are we
having dessert here, or what?
1 1/4 cups granulated sugar

1. You have to have an 8" springform pan for this. Coat it with nonstick spray.

2. If you have a food processor, pulse the oreos until finely ground. If you don't, put them in a gallon size Ziploc bag and smash them with a rolling pin. Add butter and mix it all up. Press this mixture into the bottom of the springform pan to make a crust. Stick that whole deal in the freezer while you make the rest of the recipe.

3. Put the chocolate chips and the instant coffee (or espresso) in a bowl. Add 1/2 cup boiling water. Stir it in and let it stand 1 minute to melt the chocolate and dissolve the coffee. Resist the urge to just eat this with a spoon. Trust me, it's worth the wait. Add 1/2 cup caramel topping. Whisk and let cool for 10 minutes. No, you still may not eat it.

4. In the meantime, in order to distract yourself from the overwhelming urge to eat the chocolate-coffee-caramel goo, sprinkle gelatin over 1/4 cup cold water in a small saucepan. Let stand 1 minute. You will not be tempted to eat this part. Stir over low heat 2-3 minutes or until the gelatin is completely dissolved and the liquid is clear. If you have managed not to eat the goo, add the gelatin water to it and whisk them together.

5. Grab a different bowl and beat the cream cheese and sugar in it, on high speed, until they're smooth. Slow the mixer down to low speed and add the coffee mixture till it's all blended. Pour all the yumminess into the crust and cover it up. (I'm pretty sure the reason you cover it is the whole "out of sight, out of mind" concept. Good luck with that. Stick it in the fridge for at least six hours. Keep repeating to yourself, "It'll be worth the weight-oops! I mean wait..."

6. Beat the cream and the 2 Tbsp. caramel in a small bowl until soft peaks form when you lift out the beaters. (This lifting-out-the-beaters step is an excellent opportunity to taste test, but remember, if you get too carried away you will have nothing left to put on top of your cheesecake, and you will have nobody but yourself to blame.) Remove the sides of the springform pan and place the cheesecake on a serving plate. Spoon the caramel cream on top and kind of swirl it around in a decorative way. If you have had more self control than any friend of mine should have, at this point you will have one tablespoon of caramel topping left. Drizzle it over the top of your masterpiece. Quickly serve to other people or you'll eat way, way too much of it at one sitting. Don't say I didn't warn you.

2008-11-06T08:47:00.001-08:00

Okay, I've been totally neglectful of this blog. My humble apologies and sincere promises to do better.

:) Here's a little picture of Paris and Gidget playing together on one of the last beautiful, beautiful October days we got this year. I feel quite sustained and ready to face the dismal winter after the completely perfect October we had. Of course, in February I will deny ever having said this.

For those of you who are wondering, my book project is progressing very nicely. I'm kind of astonished that I have a little artistic talent that I never knew about. I'm really enjoying making this project very visually appealing. I'm still thrilled to get recipies and whatnot from all of you to include, so if you have something that you think would be perfect, send it to glorybeefarm@live.com.

I'm staying very busy filling in for a woman at Firm Foundation whose husband was in an awful dirtbike accident several weeks ago. His name is Jim Gribe and I know that his family would appreciate your prayers for his recovery.

My wonderful friend, Stephanie email-ed me the best web site EVER this moring. Check it out if you get a chance. It's www.thepioneerwoman.com. I'm sure that this woman and I are related, and I want to be her when I grow up. Love her style.

Finally, here is a poem that I think is perfect for the dismal, rainy November weather we're having.

November, brooding, won't admit

That lush October bothers it

A bit-no, not a little bit.

It shrugs a bony shoulder

And, murmuring "I'm older,"

Insists in chilly cheerless tones

There's wisdom in its seasoned bones.

Stripped bare of gaudy, bright pretense,

I grant its comments make some sense,

And handsome is as handsome does-

But, oh, what joy October was!

-Maureen Cannon

Stay tuned next post for my world famous, award winning recipe for Caramel Macchiato Cheesecake. Coffee and dessert all wrapped up together. It's worth the effort!

Gidget!

2008-09-13T15:13:00.000-07:00

Here is Gidget. Cutest little button! She is five months old and for those of you who know (or care) about Haflinger bloodlines, her daddy is Altess. Today is a big and stressful day for Miss Gidget. Weaning! This is the first time that I've weaned a foal and my knowledge comes from what I read on the internet, and what my good and knowledgeable horsey friend Angel has told me about her experience. I've decided to go with the "adjacent pasture" approach to weaning. I had to put Gidget in the barn while I moved mommy Paris down to the bottom pasture. Oh my word! I thought Gidget was going to kick the barn down with her tiny little hooves and I thought Paris was going to run herself into a lather, or go straight through the fence! Fortunately, as soon as I turned Gidget out in the upper pasture she and mom both settled down and began munching on hay. Now they can see each other, but not get to each other and they both seem content. Paris is for sale, so if you are interested, please contact Glory Bee Farm at 360-666-3567. I am just starting to work with her, so in a few days I should be able to tell more about her abilities. Stay posted!

Meet the critters

2008-09-12T09:02:00.001-07:00

This is our handsome new herd sire. He's just a baby, and not yet old enough to leave his mama, so he won't be arriving 'til next month. He's coming to Glory Bee Farm from Capriola's in Woodburn, Oregon. He comes from really great lines on both sides and we are expecting beautiful babies from him when he gets a little older. We will also be offering outside breedings from him. If you are interested, please contact Glory Bee Farm. We currently have three grown wethers available for sale, and babies expected at the end of October. Watch this space for more pictures.

We remember.

2008-09-11T09:33:00.000-07:00

I knew the anniversary of the tragedies was coming, but I'm still amazed at how much like a punch in the stomach it felt like to turn on the radio this morning and hear people recount their experiences on that day. Of course everyone remembers where they were when they heard the news. I had gotten up at around 6:00 a.m. to nurse Max. He was not even a year old. I turned on the t.v. like I always did and tried to make sense of the footage on the news. At the time I put Max back to bed and went to wake Mark up, there had only been one plane. No one knew that the horror was just beginning. I told Mark about what had happened and went back to sleep. When I got back up and turned the t.v. on it seemed like the world was ending. Praise the Lord that Mason was only 2, and young enough to be completely shielded from what was going on. I took him to preschool and there was a note on the door instructing parents how to handle the days events with their small children. We didn't talk about it in front of the kids. At all. Adults couldn't process it, how could children? I am so thankful that even though my children were both alive on 9/11, the events of that day are no more than history that they have been told about as they've grown older, not something that they remember first hand. God bless the families. God bless the rescue workers. Let us remember how every heart cried out to God on that day. There was no indignation about national and world leaders praying. There was no screaming about separation of church and state on that day. Let us remember that our country needs God every day, not just on the worst day. May God bless you all on this September 11th.

New horses on the way!

2008-09-04T14:14:00.000-07:00

Just got a call that Cassandra and baby are safely loaded on the trailer and headed my way. I'll post pictures as soon as they get here. I think the baby's name is Gidget, but I'm not sure about what I'll call the mama.

The Potential of Pigs

2008-08-31T22:53:00.000-07:00

Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast! ~ Lewis Carroll

Pigs! Don’t you think pigs are a good idea? I trust that you’re not rolling your eyes like my sweet husband does when I fall victim to another “Lucy moment.” Just go with me here. Right now two (or maybe three) mama pigs raising wiggling, oinking little curly-tails seems like just the thing for a little extra income. Nope. Never done it before. Don’t know the first thing about it, but, hey! How hard can it be? That’s the great thing about the internet. You can learn just enough to get you started on your next brilliant idea and then you’re in deep enough that you have no choice but to go forward.

Have you found ways to support your farm habit? Send me your great ideas. Pictures, too! Let’s inspire each other. Keep in mind that anything worth doing is worth doing cute! So the more charming your ideas, the more likely you are to see them implemented and posted here. Farm girls, unite!

The first of many

2008-08-31T22:45:00.000-07:00

Close your eyes and hold your breath and always trust your cape. ~ Kathy Mattea

Okay, this whole blogging thing is pretty new to me, so I’m just going to write today. Then I’m just going to write tomorrow and then I’m just going to write the day after that. I’m just going to keep going until it doesn’t scare me anymore. If you want to join me for a day on the farm you’re in the right place.

Let’s see… what’s new today? Well, my boys (Mason, 10 and Max, 7) are off with grandma and grandpa for a day at the Oregon State Fair. I told them to take lots of pictures of Babydoll Southdown sheep and Nigerian Dwarf goats. It’s always good to have plenty of inspiration for the next “Lucy project.”

All the critters are doing well. The chickens are laying like crazy, although I have a sneaking suspicion that one of my “hens” is a rooster. I’m keeping my ears open and if I hear any crowing he’s in big trouble.

I still haven’t figured out the perfect “barn name” for Ristella, my haflinger mare. Names are a very, very big deal around here and not to be taken lightly. I’m kind of going with a blonde theme for the haffie girls. Some of the names I’m kicking around are, Diva, Drama Queen, Grace Kelly, Paris, Vanna and Tink. Any suggestions in keeping with the theme would be greatly appreciated.

Hopefully, the new haffie mare and filly will be arriving around the 6th of September. I think the baby’s name is Gidget, but I haven’t settled on a name for the mama.

Clarice the Wonder Goat went to a new home yesterday at my friend Wendy’s house. She has the cutest little goatie that needed a friend and Clarice was a perfect way for me to say thank you to my wonderful friend for helping me with this blog and my website.

Now we’re down to just the Nigerian Dwarfs. There’s mama goat (also still waiting for the perfect name) and her triplets. In October our new little buckling will arrive. So will mama goat’s babies. It’ll be a big month around here!

As far as the garden, well, that’s another matter all together. I have such beautiful visions of what my garden should look like. So far, not so good. Kind of went at it haphazardly this year, with the help of my excellent friend and fellow “Lucy”, Davi. I’m already planning for next year, so hopefully I’ll have better luck.

Oh, before I forget, today is my 15th anniversary. God bless my sweet and patient husband who accepts (even if he doesn’t really get it) that a baby goat is a perfect anniversary present. Past anniversary presents have included miniature donkeys and tack. Jewelry is nice, but it’s not fuzzy. :)