Playing Hooky

by on Nov 13, 2013 (Comments Off on Playing Hooky) Comments

Walking through the doors of a Hobby Lobby without a plan of attack is generally a really bad idea for me.  All I had for inspiration when I walked in was “something with sunset colors”.  When I am unsure the direction a project should go, I tend to just wander around a store looking at all the colors and textures until finally an inspiration hits me. I had been wandering around in Hobby Lobby for about an hour and so far my only connection had been with a little silver hook straight to the forehead when I bent over to look at a caged lantern.  Blood was drawn, curses were uttered, it wasn’t graceful or pretty.

Christi was getting married in Moab in October.  Florists are tough to find in the little town of 3500 people, so we decided we could just do it ourselves.  The reception was going to be on a bluff overlooking the city of Moab.  We decided silk flowers were more practical than live since the temperature could take a 20 degree swing and leave all our centerpieces wilted.  The wind on the bluff is touchy too.  One minute you have a gentle breeze, the next a gale force wind.  With this in mind we decided that flameless candles would keep Mom from running around the reception with a bic lighter playing candle monitor.

After an hour or so I had begun to pick up flowers and put them tentatively in the cart.  I really needed Christi to be here.  This was her reception, her wedding, I wanted her to have what she wanted not what I picked up after an hour or so of shopping.  Time was of the essence and I could hear the clock ticking in the back of my mind.  We had scant few days to get a plan, purchase the components and put it all together before I had to get back on the plane to Tampa.

Just about the time I was beginning to get distressed my cell phone rang.  Christi had come down with a cold and was sent home from work by her supervisor.  She decided she felt good enough to swing by the Hobby Lobby so we could continue looking for flowers together.  As she walked in the door, looking a little punky but clearly happy to see me I was reminded of the day I had to pick her up from preschool because she had broken out in hives.  There she stood with her little running nose and red rimmed eyes, covered in goose sized welts but the minute she saw me her little blue eyes began to twinkle with delight.  No matter how old she gets, she will always be my favorite blue eyed girl who lights up when she gets to spend time with her mommy.  Even if it does mean playing hooky from preschool or now that she’s an adult, work.

Proud to be a Monkey

by on Oct 31, 2013 (Comments Off on Proud to be a Monkey) Comments

Yikes, it has been a long time since I added a blog. The last month has been hectic and stressful for our family. My husband’s mother passed away suddenly and with her death came a confusing time for both of my children. For my son and daughter, this was the first time they were old enough to understand what had happened. It was very painful to watch my two kids experience the deep pain and sense of loss for the first time in their lives.

It has also been a time of watching my own mother’s decline accelerate in terms of her Alzheimer’s disease. The time I spend with her has increased in terms of her daily care but the quality of that time has decreased. She can hardly hear me and doesn’t understand most of what I say. Our conversations are limited to comments about the weather, her opinion on the food I serve (usually negative), and how my husband keeps stealing her vacuum cleaner (a crime of which he’s innocent).

During this last month I’ve watched my husband’s family deal with such a sudden and shocking loss of a mother who appeared healthy, vibrant and active. I’ve also watched my own mother carry on day after day with very little cognitive ability to understand her surroundings.

I’ve always been very close to my two kids and very involved in their lives but this last month we’ve grown even closer. We’ve watched less TV and talked more. We’ve cuddled more. We’ve spent more time playing out in the backyard. We’ve cried more and we’ve laughed more.Jumping up at sunset.

Last night as I was kissing Gracie goodnight, she gave me a big smile and told me that she would want to be as good of a mother as I am. My heart melted. I then walked into my bathroom to take a hot bath to relieve the aching muscles from having been the monkey in “monkey in the middle” for most of the afternoon.

I’m very grateful for the lessons I learned from my mother and my mother-in-law. They set the bar very high in terms of dedication and devotion to family. Whether I’m helping with homework, cheering at a basketball game, comforting a child after a nightmare,  kissing a boo-boo or just being the monkey in the middle, I hope I honor them with every action.

Cue the Dolphin

by on Oct 07, 2013 (Comments Off on Cue the Dolphin) Comments

For years David and I have toyed with the idea of having a summer home in Florida where the kids can come visit and our future grandchildren can frolic away their summer days swimming in the pool and building sandcastles on the beach.

This summer we stumbled across the most amazing place.  Who would have thought doing a Google search for “least populated beaches in Florida” would lead us on such an amazing journey.  On a whim, we jumped in the car and headed to an area in the panhandle of Florida called the “Forgotten Coast.”  It was love at first sight.

Ever since we were handed the keys to our new beach house at the closing table, I feel like I have entered into some kind of amazing fantasy land.  We turned the corner of our street and I gasped as I saw our house sitting on the top of a hill.  I remembered it was on a hill, of course, but I just didn’t remember that it sat so high.  As we got out of the car I was in awe that I could see the water from the BBQ area under the house, I knew the Gulf of Mexico was there, I just didn’t remember that I could see it from the ground level over the top of the sand dunes.

When I climbed the last step to the first floor and turned toward the windows facing the water, I gasped in surprise.  I knew that the back of the house was a wall of windows with the Gulf of Mexico peaking in every one, but I was still awed by how absolutely amazing that sight is.   I am sad to have to close the sliding glass doors because I won’t be able to hear the amazingly peaceful cadence of the surf rolling into the shore.

Since we have moved in I have been walking around completely shell shocked.  Every turn, leads me to something more beautiful and exciting than the turn before.  The beach in front of our house is fluffy and white.  David, who hasn’t taken his shoes or socks off outside in years is walking up and down the sugary sand beach in his bare feet.  Fred loves bouncing along, chasing the surf and ferretting out sea shells.  She has learned her boundaries quickly and even though we always have the leash at the ready, she rarely needs it because we rarely encounter any people on our afternoon stroll on the beach.  We have sat on our porch upstairs and watched the myriad of stars twinkle in the midnight sky and have been rewarded with several shooting stars.  We watched from our porch as several dozen dolphin created a feeding circle and literally entertained us for 20 minutes jumping their entire bodies out of the water and splashing down again.  It was like a show at Sea World!

All I know is that I am the luckiest, happiest woman in the world.  Somehow, in an instant I have fallen into the Kae Allen version of “The Truman Show” and the director is yelling “cue the dolphin!”

Achoo at the Zoo

by on Sep 21, 2013 (Comments Off on Achoo at the Zoo) Comments

I learned two lessons on Thursday. That was the day I was one of the parent chaperones for my son’s third grade field trip to the zoo. It was a beautiful day spent totally outdoors, capped off with a picnic lunch. I got to spend time with my dear friend who was also one of the parent chaperones so we teamed up to be in charge of four energetic, enthusiastic third grade boys.

So, what were the two lessons?

Lesson number one: when you are with young boys and you go to the zoo during caterpillar season, you should expect the fascination to shift from watching zebras, tigers and flamingos to trying to spot and TOUCH every single unfortunate caterpillar who finds itself crawling, dangling or resting within the reach of little hands. Everyone had to hold and pet the confused caterpillars. There were as many ooohs and aaahs over the caterpillars as any of the wild animals.

If your son asks to go to the zoo again on Saturday (yes, my son did ask just two days after the field trip), you don’t have to spend the time and money to go back there. Just find a caterpillar for your son to hold in the backyard. Trust me, holding a caterpillar is on the same scale as watching a tiger snoozing  thirty feet away. For boys, “hands on” means everything.

caterpillar hunting

Searching for wild caterpillars

Lesson number two: Always take your allergy medicine when you’re supposed to. What were you thinking, when you signed up for this zoo trip? Didn’t you realize you’d be outdoors all day? It wasn’t until the next morning when I work up with red, swollen eyes and sinus cavities that looked as if I’d stuffed apples in my cheeks, did I remember that I hadn’t take my allergy medication.

Today, Jack plans on hunting in the backyard with his binoculars around his neck, in search of the wild Tennessee caterpillar. Me? Today you’ll find me within arm’s reach of a box of tissues at all times. I’ve taken my Zyrtec, blown my nose for the 800th time and watched Gracie marvel at how I can sneeze six times in a row.

If you’re headed to the Nashville Zoo, the caterpillar exhibit starts in the parking lot.

Celebrating in Miami

by on Sep 04, 2013 (Comments Off on Celebrating in Miami) Comments

Sitting on the rooftop of our hotel in Miami, David and I clinked champagne flutes filled with our favorite beer together at precisely midnight, in celebration of the end of our 28th year of marriage.

We had spent the last two weeks in Peru on a trip through the sacred valley.  We flew into Miami, where David had booked us into a hotel with a private rooftop Jacuzzi.  We spent an entire day doing nothing but lounging in the Jacuzzi and napping on the double chase lounge.  After two weeks of climbing and hiking up and over every Inca ruin we could find, spending a couple of hours lounging in a hot bubbly tub was fantastic!2261

I would have never believed 28 years ago when I walked down the aisle of the church that I would be as happy and fulfilled as I am today.  I didn’t even know such total contentment was actually an achievable goal.  I am alternately amazed and humbled by the fact that after 28 years of marriage, David and I still adore each other.  Here we sat, going on 18 days of not talking to another person besides each other and we still had countless things to babble about.  I think David was a bit saddened by the fact that we were at the end of our vacation and when we went home he was once again going to have to share my attention with the rest of our world.

We’ve had a wonderful 28 years.  I can’t wait to see what year 29 brings to the table!!!!

The Clown Car

by on Aug 30, 2013 (Comments Off on The Clown Car) Comments

Before I say anything else, let me begin by making sure you understand that I love Scott. He is my soulmate, my best friend and an amazing father to our two children. He is so many wonderful things that are too numerous to list. That said, he is also a sucker. He has such a kind heart and will fall for any hard luck story told by even the least convincing con artist. Which brings me to his most recent encounter with the last con artist… Scott just bought a new car. Oh, wait, calling it a “new” car is a major misrepresentation of what this piece of junk on four balding tires really is. It’s a car that some lucky person managed to easily get rid of just by meeting my husband.clown car

Here’s a little background information. My husband has a truck that is very bad with gas mileage and isn’t in the best shape. In fact, it’s also a piece of junk. It has no A/C, the driver’s side window may or may not slide back up into the closed position should you dare to open the window to avoid baking to death in the summer heat due to the lack of A/C. The gear shift bar doesn’t always tell the truth about what gear you’re in and we won’t even go into the kind of gymnastics one has to do just to get the key in the ignition. This truck was Scott’s previous purchase from a mechanic who said the original owner of the truck decided it was not worth fixing. Scott, ever the optimist, saw the potential in the truck and purchased it. Hence, the reason he then started looking for a car once he realized the true value of having such a unique truck.

Scott was doing a construction job in Knoxville one day (over 3 hours away from our house) and came home that night to declare he had purchased a car. The owner of the house was selling this car and it was good deal. The car was good on mileage and just needed a little “cosmetic” work. A red flag went up in my head but Scott was convinced this was the car for him.

The next day, my husband appeared in our driveway with what I can only describe as a car you would expect to see 8 or 9 circus clowns emerge from. My husband, who is not a small man, unfolded himself out of the car and presented his new bargain for my inspection.

The left side of the clown car looked ok other than the fact that I immediately noticed two tires that would require replacing because they looked as though they were rubber bands about to break. I should’ve stopped at that point though and not walked around to the right side of the car. That’s where I noticed the duct tape… lots of it. It was holding the front bumper on. It was also holding the plastic on the door frame. The plastic was being used as the passenger side window because there was no window. Not sure whether this was a step up or step down from his current truck’s window crisis. Was it better to have an actual window, even though it may not roll back up or was it better to have a sheet of plastic?window

It was obvious from looking at the passenger side of the car that somebody had apparently hit a tree, telephone pole or the side of a concrete building and then kept going until the entire right side of the car was scraped and damaged.

I would love to tell you how much my husband spent on this clown car but I feel it would risk causing every con artist on the planet to zero in on Scott. Let’s just say that I’m sure he could’ve gotten a decent car that had a working window and a front bumper that didn’t require duct tape, for about half the price.bumper

Scott loves his car so I’m happy for him. He parks it way up at the top of the driveway, behind his truck in an effort to prevent me from seeing it when I’m standing at the kitchen window. I may not see it but there’s no mistaking the fact that we have a clown car in our driveway.

I have instructed Scott that our children will never be allowed to ride in the clown car and he is never to expect me to get into it. I may not be crazy about my minivan but at least it has working windows and an average size person can ride in it without having to sit with their knees up their nose.

The one bright side of all this is that if the construction business stars to spiral down again, Scott has a future at the circus.

Education in Cusco

by on Aug 20, 2013 (Comments Off on Education in Cusco) Comments

Knowing that I love to cook, David signed us up for a  private cooking class with a local chef in Cusco.  It was a marvelous afternoon.  Chef Richard took us to the local market which was a huge warehouse filled to the brim with fruit, meat, bread, cheese and any other various food items you could think of.  Walking along, Chef Richard informed me to “watch your feet.”  He explained to us that when you want chicken for dinner, you go to the market and they shove a live chicken in a bag with its head sticking out.  Apparently, chickens get a bit testy when they are shoved in a bag and unceremoniously dumped on the edge of the sidewalk in the blazing sun, so they are notorious for taking out their aggression by pecking at anything that passes by, including the innocent digits of unsuspecting tourists.

The market was an amazing array of colors, textures and aromas, but one area I could have done without was walking through the meat area.  I think I prefer to live in my little United States dream world where all meat is born packaged and ready to purchase and not the Peruvian world where entrails and cows heads with their lips still on are piled high for the casual shoppers perusal.

Back at Chef Richard’s restaurant, he showed us how to cook a traditional Peruvian dish and introduced us to a grainy but delicious dish called Quinoa (Ken-waah).  I found out that the majority of dishes started out with a trinity of ingredients and then the protein and starch are added from there to create whatever delectable meal you were inspired to make.  I loved the fact that no one seems to measure anything because that is exactly the way I cook.  Just throw it in until it tastes good.  One very interesting thing I did learn is that gravy, sauces and soups are thickened with micro-grated potatoes instead of flour or cornstarch.  I can’t wait to try this method out the first time I make soup this winter.Peruvian Cooking Lesson

Our second stop on the education train in Cusco was at the Museo de Chocolate.  That’s right, The Chocolate Museum.  For years my family has been subject to what is lovingly referred to as “cookie baking weekend.”  Every Christmas I make close to 10,000 cookies and candies to give out as gifts to clients, friends and family.  I’m so obsessed with this project that my new kitchen was designed specifically to provide optimum cooking baking potential.  With a giddiness I haven’t felt since junior high, David and I donned our aprons.   Gladys, our teacher, started teaching us how to make truffles.  Later that day, David declared himself the best truffle maker because his truffles were beautiful and very tasty.  Next, which was a complete surprise because it wasn’t part of the class we signed up for;  Gladys started showing us how to temper chocolate for filled candies.  As she showed us the technique, finally the light bulb flew on in my mind.  I have been fighting the mighty chocolate “bloom” for years. (for those that are not crazy enough to have an entire bedroom full of drying chocolate each holiday season, this is the grayish haze that chocolate gets when it is not heated and cooled correctly.)  I was so excited to learn this technique (and also how to load and unload those pesky plastic chocolate molds) that I could have kissed Gladys on the lips!  But instead we enthusiastically thanked her, gave her a very generous tip and basically skipped all the way back to our hotel with our boxes of truffles and bag of cute little candies.

Making truffles

Making truffles

Seeing a sign that read “Free Pisco Sour Lessons”, David and I decided to continue our educational tour at the Museo de Pisco.  This was a bar that only served the Peruvian national liquor called Pisco.  It was amazing to see literally thousands of bottles of various types of Pisco lining the walls from floor to ceiling.    We took turns behind the bar with our bartender/instructor telling us the proper way to make the perfect Pisco Sour.  David went with the traditional pisco and although his mixing skills were spot on he still received low marks on his shaking skills.

Pisco Sour lessons

Pisco Sour lessons

I went with a strawberry infused Pisco that was absolutely wonderful.  I received very low marks on the mixing portion of the exam because I immediately splashed pisco all over the instructor (who knew that when pouring liquor from a jigger you have to watch where the ice is—oops).  In my defense, I’m a beer drinker so this whole measure and pour thing was foreign to me.   I did apologize immediately for not respecting the Pisco, which rewarded me with a laugh from all the bartenders behind the bar.  It became immediately apparent during my lesson that bartending was not going to be the newest addition to my super skills list.

A lot of shaking necessary

A lot of shaking necessary

We spent the rest of our last night in Peru drinking Pisco Sours and reliving all our fantastic adventures during our journey through Peru.  All in all, it was a wonderful three days of education in Cusco.

 

To read more from the Two Loons, check out our book Cookies for Dinner. The book is available through online retailers such as Amazon.com, at your favorite bookstore and through our website Two Loons and a Book.Cookies for Dinner

Almost a cartwheel

by on Aug 16, 2013 (Comments Off on Almost a cartwheel) Comments

I realize that at my age and in my physical condition, my gymnastics days are waaaaaay behind me but when Gracie challenged me to do a cartwheel in the backyard I had no doubt that I could pull off something so basic.

As a teenager I was able to do cartwheels, handstands, headstands and backflips with the best of them. While I recognized that my headstand and backflips days were ones I’d never see again, surely a basic cartwheel was still in my repertoire.

First of all, let me say that I am tremendously relieved that our backyard is completely fenced in and very private. Second, I’m forever grateful that my daughter didn’t think to have her cell phone with her so there is no visual record of this event that could end up publicly humiliating me on Facebook or YouTube.Cartwheel

So I’m sure by now you have a clue that my cartwheel didn’t go as smoothly as planned. The first part went ok as my hands headed toward the ground. At my age, surrendering my body to the forces of gravity is an everyday thing. Speaking of gravity though, apparently when I was a cartwheeling teenager my breasts were cooperative enough to remain in proper position so as not to hit me in the face. As a middle-aged mom, those same breasts used this as an opportunity to go AWOL from their bra harness. I didn’t have time to worry about my flapping breasts though because I was focused on the fact that my legs decided halfway through the cartwheel that this wasn’t a good idea. They wanted down and they wanted it immediately. My main concern became not breaking my arms and then having to explain to everyone how it happened. I managed to hang on long enough to get my feet planted back on the ground and stood up in triumph (ok, actually it was just relief). I had successfully done a cartwheel…sort of.

After taking a moment to return certain body parts that were not meant for public viewing, back into position, I looked at Gracie for her reaction.

“Don’t ever do that again.” she said.

“I won’t.” I replied.

“Mom, that was really embarrassing. Let’s keep this between us, ok?” Gracie said, as she walked and I hobbled back into the house.

“You bet.”

Mrs. Doolittle

by on Aug 10, 2013 (Comments Off on Mrs. Doolittle) Comments

Yes, I am allergic to animals.  Yes, I am especially allergic to wool, whether still on the beast or presented as a brightly colored alpaca scarf.  I did my best at the Pisac market to have Dave handle all the alpaca scarves and sweaters we purchased for our family but men really don’t have the flair for presentation, so ultimately I ended up handling just about everything we bought 50 times or more.  That night we found ourselves sleeping in a room where the alpaca wear was double bagged and slipped into a wardrobe and still in the middle of the night, instead of hearing the constant sound of barking dogs, all that could be heard was a hacking Kae.Alpaca Farm

We left Pisac for Cusco the next morning packed in a minivan with our bag of alpaca wears sitting at our feet.  After spending a night with my friend the allergy cough, I decided to double up on the allergy meds for the day.  On our way out of the parking lot, our guide turns and says, “We pass an alpaca farm and wildlife rescue on our way, would you be interested in stopping there.”  Without a moment’s hesitation I said “absolutely” and David just laughed knowing that I would have to touch, pet and talk to all the little alpaca even though it meant he would be spending the rest of the day with an over-the-top happy but still hacky, blotchy, sticky-eyed wife.White Alpaca

There are a lot of things that I just never envisioned doing in my life.  For instance, I have never thought out what I would do if I found myself standing in Peru while a large pack of alpaca careen down a path in my direction with the clear intent of relieving me of my bundle of alfalfa.  The thundering of multiple hooves should create some fight or flight instinct in a person.  Buy alas, no.  My basic instinct was to stand there and watch, laughing with glee as I was completely engulfed in fuzzy alpaca bodies.Center of Attention

David and I had a wonderful time feeding the alpaca.  I made small talk with them while I was giving them their little treat of alfalfa making sure as they greedily gobbled it up, that I thought it was important that they chewed thoroughly so they would not choke because although I am the possessor of many super skills,  the alpaca Heimlich  is not one of them.Chew Carefully

At various points during our visit, David would attempt to remind me that it might not be the best for me to be hugging and petting and putting my face directly in the faces of the wool-bearing creatures because I was going to suffer the rest of the day with their fibers all over my clothes and hands.  Not to mention that alpaca have a tendency to spit great big green globs of regurgitated alfalfa if they feel threatened.   But alas it was a moot point.  There is not a bone in my Mrs. Doolittle body that could have resisted those fuzzy little faces.

Everyone needs a well-dressed mouse

by on Aug 05, 2013 (Comments Off on Everyone needs a well-dressed mouse) Comments

Gracie is keenly aware of all things feminine. At 11-years-old, she has made it her mission to make sure the world around her is adequately adorned in pink, purple, zebra stripes, glitter and perfume. Frequently, she goes into my jewelry box to “jazz” up my boring uniform of jeans and a t-shirt. For Gracie, more is better. If you have two wrists, each should be able to hold multiple bracelets. Why settle for one necklace when you can wear two?  Rings? Well, there should be one for every finger.

She has also entered into the world of perfume-making. While I  can handle the jewelry and other  accessorizing she does for me before heading off to my work day (I take everything off when I get in the car and just make sure to put everything back on before I get home), I’m having a harder time with the perfume. Gracie, the Mad Perfume Scientist had several plastic cups lined up on her bathroom counter. Inside those cups were various concoctions made up of hand sanitizer, flowers, extracts, and liquid soap. She then poured the various concoctions into little spray bottles and presented them to me to wear as my new perfume. She named her latest creation “morning mist” but I think a more accurate name would be “morning migraine.” The slightest whiff makes my eyeballs start pounding in their sockets. I had to break the news to her that maybe being a perfume designer wasn’t her natural calling.mouse with tutu

My husband, who used to just sit back and enjoy watching me being adorned in all sorts of ways that a middle-aged woman shouldn’t be adorned in, has now become a victim of Gracie’s need to make the world a more feminine place. This morning he walked into his office and found his computer mouse is now well-dressed in something every computer mouse should be wearing this Fall on the mouse fashion runways… a pink tutu.