Wordless Wednesday (not!)

I was going to do a wordless Wednesday, but who are we kidding? I don't know how to be wordless. I have to share the story behind the pictures.

Hailey is on a baking kick. We had family in for the weekend, as you know, and she was the little hostess. (not the Twinkie kind) She did bake muffins each morning. They were the pre-packaged deal-y things that you just add milk to and bake. Well, Mom stopped by and realized what Hailey was up to, and decided to bring by some fresh blueberries from her own back yard and a recipe for made-from-scratch muffins. Oh, yay!

So she made muffins the next morning. But instead of baking powder, she used baking soda.

Scratch batch number one.

Now the blueberries are gone, so she gets the idea to make some with chocolate chips.

But Mom's handwriting is a bit difficult to read, and she mis-interprets the 2's for 3's. So the 1/2 cup of sugar was only 1/3, and the 1 and 1/2 cup milk was only 1 and 1/3.

Scratch batch number two.

So today, after I bought more blueberries, and she decided to try some with strawberries, as well, she is working on batches three and four.

My kitchen will never be the same.

What's an Rthling?

You know when you are a grown-up, but deep down inside you are still a kid? You want to do all the fun stuff grown-ups get to do, but you want to play and be goofy like you did as a teenager. Well, this name is a product of my time as a full grown adolescent.
I've always had a fascination of personalized licence plates. And Marvin the Martian has always been my favorite cartoon character. So when I had a green Dodge Neon, Shawn had a graphic of him in my back window. I went through a ton of clever letter combinations trying to think of a cute licence plate. I finally settled on RTHLING. It sounds like "earthling," but only has seven letters. Although I never got around to having the plates made, I got some rockin' mud flaps one year from my sister with Marvin saying "BACK OFF!" and my father-in-law bought me a beautiful key chain that ended up getting swallowed by my mom's house. Eventually I had one I used for a long time that said "keys to the mother ship."
So now you know. I'm just a big kid.

Thomas and Son

**updated 7/7**
My husband is the fixer of many things. He can't go camping without looking for something to fix. If something has broken around the house, I know that I only need wait for him to come home, and it will be repaired post-haste, whatever that means.
So it should be no surprise that he always has an ongoing project or two lying about the house, or cluttering up the yard. This past weekend it was two projects. He was working on a boat for someone he used to work with, and a wrecked truck which my mother recently acquired.
Now, on top of all this, I had my cousin staying with us for the weekend, and we pulled the camper around front for the kids to "camp" in while they used the kids' bedrooms. So on this half acre lot there was the following:
one boat
one camper
two trailers
two mini-vans
one compact car
**update** two mid-size cars
one pick-up truck
two motorcycles
and a partridge in a pear tree

Needless to say, this theme song kept running through my head every time I looked outside.
But, the boat is now fixed, and is waiting to be retrieved, the truck is repaired and gone, the cousin's mini-van is back at her home, and the camper is still sitting right outside my front door. Sounds like a project for tomorrow.

Don't you just love the smell of...

A newborn baby, just after her first bath?

Coffee, first thing in the morning?

Puppy breath?

Freshly washed sheets, after hanging dry in the sunny breeze?

Bacon frying when you're camping?

A campfire?

Roasted marshmallows? Are you sensing a theme here?

A bouquet of wildflowers, picked by your son?

The salty air, that tells you the beach is very close?

The box of recipes from your grandmother's house, that smells just like her?

A pot roast you remembered to put in before you left for church?

Chocolate chip cookies or brownies your ten year old daughter is baking?

An apple pie you have just taught your ten year old daughter to bake?

A properly ripe fresh pineapple?

What smells make you smile? Do share.

Now I know!

Someone at church last night said there was a mouse on the church bus.

It never really so much as crossed my mind.

I have never put much thought into it.

But now I know how he gets around.

That legendary church mouse.

All I want to know is...

Was he quiet?

Wordless Wednesday

What did you DO?

So the other day, Shawn comes home and tells me he's done something he regrets. "Ummm, okay. What did you do?"
Seems he spent his birthday money on a new exhaust system for his Aveo. It's supposed to help with gas mileage. (Not sure why this is necessary, since it gets, like, 179 miles per gallon. OK, exaggeration.) It's a performance thing, he says.

"What are you, seventeen?" I'm thinking. But I keep my mouth shut. (for the moment)

I can't help but wonder if he's expressing regret because he knows I'll hate it, but he insists it's too loud, even for him. Well, to his credit, he does wear hearing protection when he mows the lawn.
"Crank it up," say I.
So he cranks it, and I'm blown into T county. Okay, more exaggeration, but I can't hear him talk. He tells me he's taking it back to have it toned down.
"WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

*Turns it off*

He says it makes his head pound, so he takes it back to have the guy do a little magic on it which makes it run a little quieter.

*emphasis on "little"*

Now I move in for the "What are you, seventeen?" quip.

What is it about men, that what they have is never cool enough? They have to "do" something to it, and give it "More Power!" a la Tim Taylor.

I shouldn't complain, though. He doesn't watch sports, or go fishing or hunting. He doesn't have much that takes his attention away from me and the kids. He works hard, and takes very good care of us. He loves me more that I probably deserve. But still I am annoyed that he can't just have the newest vehicle he's ever owned, and leave it be.

But I was thankful for this car on Thursday when I had to drive back to camp. There was no way I was straddling that motorcycle again for that distance. Shawn told me how to stuff steel wool into one of the pipes to muffle the sound, so I would not be deaf in an hour. So stuff, I did. But my ear drums were bruised by the time I arrived. My head was pounding, and I refused to get back in the car on the way home. I would rather tow a camper all the way, than suffer through that sound for one more mile.
And before it goes to New York in November, he has to put back on the factory exhaust.