French Press Friday

Let me start by saying I know I have not done what I said I'd do.  I did not post about chores and charts and boyos.  I tried though!  Believe me I tried.  Yesterday, last night and again this morning.  But my pictures just won't load onto my blog site properly!  **fume, fume, fume**  So, I'll try todays post instead and see what happens.


Hubs got me a new bean grinder a while back.  Here it is...my Cuisinart beauty! 

It has various settings for how fine or coarse you want your coffee beans to be, depending on how you are brewing them.  Coarse for french press, medium for drip, etc.  There is also a setting for how many cups worth you wish to grind, from 4 cups up to 12 cups.  This smart machine grinds just that much into the resevoir basket and then stops automatically.  So it's super easy to go from this:


hopper full of aromatic whole beans

To this:



resevoir full of aromatic, freshly ground beans.

This makes a delicious pot of coffee, let me tell you.  I'm enjoying a cup right now.  There's more in the thermal carafe!  Come on over.

Reflection on a Funeral

I attended a funeral service last week.  I didn't know the family very well.  Only the sister of the deceased.  But I attended anyway.  And I'm glad I did.  I found the service so calming and centering.


In the service book we use, the service begins with the invocation and a remembrance of our baptism.  We are reminded that we have been baptized into Christ's death.  We are reminded that just as Christ was raised from the dead, "we too might walk in newness of life."  We are reminded that we will have a resurrection like His.

The Psalm and the readings are always so comforting, full of the reminders of God's love for us that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.  And more of God's love that when we stand before Him in Heaven we will see Him with our own eyes and will not be turned away.  They are full of the reminders that whatever may pursue us here on earth, whatever may haunt us or harm us, it has no hold over us.  We will be free!

We speak the Creed during the funeral service.  We are reminded that, during this sad time full of tears and fears, we can find strength and comfort in one another as the body of Christ.  We share the same faith and are not alone in our weeping.  We pray the Lord's Prayer and again act boldly, trusting in His promises.

The Nunc Dimittis is probably what I found most beautiful.  It begins with the words of Jesus from the book of John, chapter 11. 

"I am the resurrection and the life," says the Lord.  "He who believes in Me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in Me will never die."

Then the song of Simeon from Luke is spoken by the people.  God's word has been fulfilled.  We have seen it.  We can go home. 

I know that this funeral service is meant to focus on the life the deceased now has in Christ.  And I know it's odd that I find the service comforting and calming.  But I can see how beneficial this service could be as I read through it on my "bad" days.  When my day is at it's lowest; when I can see no reason for moving forward another step; when I'm not sure what my purpose is, I can read this service and very easily be re-centered.  I can be reminded of whose I am and who I am through my baptism.  I can be reminded of Job and all of his troubles, yet how he, through faith, was able to focus on the prize at the end of it all.  I can be reminded of my family in faith as I read the Creed and the Lord's Prayer.  I can be reminded of the promises of my Lord and the gift of Heaven I have been given because of His love for me.  And as the benediction reads at the end of the service, I can "go forth in peace, in the name of the Lord. Amen."



Chores and Boys

My brother and I were never assigned chores.  Not for very long anyway.  Maybe I should say, not that I can remember.   Hubs and his sister, however, were assigned chores.  Hubs and I had many discussions about what to expect from our boys as they grew.  And I'll tell ya, as the boyos grow the messes grow with them.  The kitchen messes, the food messes, the laundry messes, the bathroom messes, etc., etc., etc.  And I don't like being responsible for everyone else's messes ALL of the time.  It's so easy to grow resentful.  I soon agreed with hubs that we needed to expect certain things of the boys on a regular basis.  Here are couple of  our ideas.  We've been using these for a little over a year and they've worked well.

This is our "To Do/ Done Did" chart.  This chart goes up on the fridge every Friday and the boys know they have all weekend to get the jobs done.  The list has been tweaked a couple of times.  Never hurts to make improvements!  So it works like this.  All of the clothespins start on the "To Do" side of the chart.  The boys divvy up the chores depending on what they want to do and what they did last weekend, or even what they haven't gotten to do in a while!  Then they get to work.  The clothespins get moved to the "Done Did" side as the jobs are completed.  Pretty easy and it works well.  I don't have to assign chores.  They don't have to do the SAME JOBS every time.  Some they do on their own, some they work together to complete.   I just made this out of layered scrapbook paper, some punch out letters and then I glued the same paper to clothespins.  Easy and fun!

This picture didn't turn out so great.  Bummer.  What I want you to see is the 3 pocket wire organizer.  I found it at The Container Store but when I searched their site for a link, I could no longer find the product.  Closest things were  here and here. But this piece was just what I needed at the start of last school year.  One pocket for each boy.  All school papers and homework goes in their pocket.  They can find what they need for school each day, including signed papers that need to go back (assuming those things did not make it into the backpack already).  Then the pockets get cleaned out every weekend.  They learn to throw what's not needed anymore and find a permanent home for what's really important.  It works for me!

Feels like Monday

It's Wednesday.  I have to keep reminding myself of that.  It's Wednesday!

The boyos went back to school this morning.  I'm sitting in a very silent house.  The wind is rattling the old window next to me.  That's about all I hear, except for the clicking of the computer keys.  Strange.  I keep waiting for one of the boys to walk in and ask if he can have a snack.  It's about time for that.  Wonder if they are feeling hungry?



I had plans for today.  I planned to spend it in My Room.  I have a new file cabinet I need to organize and a new set of drawers for my 12x12 papers (love!) that needs to be filled.  I want to write.  I want to stamp.  I want to play with my Cricut.  But there are fresh ears of corn, blueberries, and peaches in the kitchen that are calling my name.  Rather loudly, too.  I really can't put off their prep much longer.  So I guess I'll pick some fun music and get to boogieing/boogying/boogiing/boogie-ing (how do you spell that non-existant word?!) in the kitchen for a couple of hours. 

It's still early.  My papers will be here later.  I just hate putting off "Me" time, you know?



Read something interesting this morning.  The source intends it for "out in the world" office-type workers, but I can apply it to my life.  How 'bout you?

"Avoid tasks that don't excite you or you will be more vulnerable to digital distractions and unmindfulness.  Delegate or outsource the necessary but uninteresting parts of your job."

Delegate, delegate, delegate.  That says to me CHORE CHART!  Tomorrow I'll share the bits and pieces that have worked for me over the past year.  I dont' think I've done that yet.

Outsource = take it to the cleaners!  Hubs is picky about his "uniform" so we use the dry cleaners.  Saves me headache and LOTS of ironing.  Which I hate.

How do you delegate and outsource?






"It's an Island!!"

...an island story.

It's always been a problem.  That attitude the weekenders have always had.  The "What's the big deal?  It's an island!" kind of attitude.  The attitude that rubs the islanders the wrong way.  The attitude that makes the islanders dread Fridays and look forward to Sundays.  To explain, the islanders are the people who have permanent homes on the island.  They may stay year round, they may just come for the summer.  But we islanders consider the island home.  The weekenders are the people who come to the island on their private boats, or on the big party boats, and stay just for the weekend.  They may come every weekend, but they are never considered islanders because they regard the island as their party place.

Now this looks like an enjoyable, harmless activity doesn't it?  Taking a stroll on a lovely morning, enjoying the day, taking in the sights.  But you see, this is a photo of a weekender.  And the weekender's dog.  The weekender and his dog are walking through my parent's front lawn.  The weekender is letting his dog find a place to relieve himself.  I imagine the weekender thought, "What's the big deal?  It's an island."

Golf carts are the typical mode of transportation around the island, both for islanders and weekenders.  They really are perfect.  They never go too fast and they can be parked just about anywhere.  Even in front of my parent's house.  But what's the big deal?  It's an island.

Here's the orignal story that prompted the use of the repeated phrase.  My grandparents had a house next to the one belonging to my parents.  They had waterfront property, too.  And in the water was their dock.  They would rent a slip or two to people who needed a place to dock their boats.  Grandpa's rate was reasonable.  One time a couple rented from him, they caused some trouble and when they came again he refused to rent to them.  Well, they said they'd leave but Gramps found them down their later anyway.  I think they had built a fire and were enjoying themselves a little too much.  "What's the big deal?  It's an island!" was what they told my Grandpa.  The nerve!  "It's an island."  What exactly does that have to do with trespassing?  Or disregarding "No Parking" signs?  Or walking your dog on someones private lawn?  I'm afraid we'll never know.  We just have to be prepared come Friday afternoons.

Baked Chicken Tenders

Came up with a yummy, and simple, recipe and thought I'd share it.  I had pinned a chicken tender recipe that I went to tonight originally, but I did not have everything it called for, nor did I like the original idea.  So I changed it.  Yes I did!   I liked the end result.  And so did the family. 

Baked Chicken Tenders
·         2/3 cup Panko bread crumbs
·         1/4 cup grated Parmesan
·         1 teaspoon Italian herbs
·         1 teaspoon paprika
·         1/2 teaspoon salt
·         2 Tbsp yogurt
·         1 egg
·         1-2 Tbsp water
·         10-14 chicken tenders

1. Heat oven to 400 degrees F. Line a baking pan with foil and spray with olive-oil cooking spray. In a shallow bowl, combine bread crumbs, Parmesan, Italian herbs, paprika, and salt. In a separate bowl, beat egg.  Add yogurt and mix well, adding water a bit at a time as needed just so it’s not too thick.

2. Dip each chicken tender in egg/yogurt mixture.  Dredge in Parmesan mixture, patting to coat thoroughly. Place on prepared pan.

3. Spray chicken tenders with olive-oil cooking spray, coating both sides. Bake in the oven for 12 to 15 minutes or until tenders are golden brown and cooked through.


You might need to mix up more of the breading.  I needed just a bit more to finish up the last 2 or 3 tenders.  Use your own good judgement.  And clean up is a snap because of the foil lined pan!  Genius!

Enjoy...

THANKS!

Just have to take a moment and shout a big, huge, giganitc

Thank You!

to my wonderful sister-in-law, Tracie!  She and I are big fans of The Eight by Katherine Neville.  Love that story!  Anyway, she introduced me to it as I've shared before and I've borrowed it from her several times.  You may be wondering, "why not just get your own copy, silly?"  Yes, I've wondered that myself.  Well, it's one of those gems that I forget about.  And when I'm reminded of it, it's like pulling out old Christmas stuff..."Oh I forgot about that!  I just love it!"  But do I ever remember the book when I'm out at the stores?  Nope.  Then I got my Nook.  And I remembered The Eight.  And I thought to myself, "Perfect!  I want to own this favorite story so why not buy it for my Nook."  Think I could find a copy?  Yep, I could!  In SPANISH!  Weird.  Not an english copy to be found.  I don't get it.

Anyway.

When I arrived at the island a couple of weeks ago, The Eight was waiting for me.  A treasure found in the used book sale at the local library by Tracie.  And she bought it...and left it there...for me!  Can you believe it?  I was so terribly excited I could hardly stand it.  Weird I know, but I get geeky about books sometimes.  Thank you, Tracie!

A Reflection on 1 Thess. 5:16-18

"Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you."

I find joy in a garden walk with my mother.  We talk about what she has planted.  We share our gardening hopes and dreams.  She teaches me what she knows.  I benefit from her wisdom.

I find joy in observing my sons.  JoJo teaches Mouse how to hold a baseball bat properly.  He shows him how to "squish the bug" when his back foot rotates.  Bud finds new patience with JoJo and even makes him laugh. The three of them run into the house with shouts of, "That was fun!  Let's play it tomorrow!"

I find joy in a stolen moment of quiet on my back patio where I read in secret.

I pray the Lord's Prayer several times daily; it has become habit now and I welcome that. 

I pray for my family.  For my boys that they may grow in their faith and knowledge of God; for my husband that he may continue to serve the Lord faithfully and rightly.  For myself that I may continue to learn God's will for my life and know the contentment that brings.

I pray for the Spirit to intervene for me during those times I know I should pray, but just can't bring myself to do it.  For whatever reason.  And for those time the words won't come.

I give thanks for my love of cooking and baking, even when I complain about having to do it, for I am providing my family with something good.  And they are thankful for that!

I give thanks for the times Hubby is gone so much, for this makes us cherish the times our family IS together.

I give thanks for an unbearably hot summer, for this makes me relish the long awaited cool morning that brings relief and joy.

I know a bit more about God's will in Christ Jesus for me.  All things are in His control, and held gently in His hands.  I am among those things.  Through the challenges and disappointments this sinful world holds in store for us, God works good.  I learn to trust Him, because He is faithful and He will see me through to the end just as He has done so many times before.  He makes no mistakes and this includes where He has put me.  Staying at home to raise my boys, sending them to school,  bringing them to church, making our home a haven for all who live and enter here, being a helpmeet to my husband...this is where He has put me.  And it is good and pleasing to Him.  As I reflect on these things, I find myself excited and  hopeful about what else He has in store for me; for us.  My anxiety wanes.  I am at peace.

Take Me Out to the...no,

better yet, just take me home.

Looked for an angry face - I liked this one!

We went to a softball game while on the island.  We were so excited to be able to do it, too.  KIO has a summer league and they play other teams in the neighboring towns.  Of course, if you are the visiting team to KI, you have to take a ferry the game!  How cool is that?  Anyway...

We just happned to be vacationing when the team would have a home game.  And a double header at that!  Perfect!  It was a nice evening, too.  Not too hot or humid.  Good game night.  So we piled chairs into the back of mom and dad's van, squeezed ourselves in around them and took off for the field.  When we arrived, we saw we had two choices for seating.  We could set our chairs in the grass a short distance behind home plate, or we could sit in the small set of bleachers along the third baseline!  We opted for the bleachers.  Little did we know we should have chosen door number 1.

Now, I was reading to see some smoking of cigarettes and hear a bit of unpleasant language.  And I was even ready to see some beers getting tossed back after the game.  And I assumed that when my two young boys sat down across from 3rd base, the players would puff their chests, ready to be professionals and show these kids a fun game!  Silly me.  Never assume.

I was unprepared for the drinking to be mixed with the playing.  I was unprepared for the foul language that came out of the mouth of the left fielder as he passed by my boys, their eyes wide with shock and uncertainty.  At that moment, I was uncertain myself.  Should we leave?  Is this normal and will it continue, or is the player just having a bad day?  Maybe he's feeling some regret.  After all, I did notice some of the other players catch on to the fact that two young boys were planted front and center awaiting an exciting game.  So I mad the decision to stay.  Like I said earlier - we should have chosen door number 1.

Our KI team, whom we were wanting to cheer on to victory, caused me to shake my head in disappointment.  The foul language continued.  The sportsmanship was just as bad.  The team was anything but a "team".  They cussed at one another, they insulted one another, they had not one encouraging thing to say.  They were disrespectful to their coach, and he was equally so to them.  The oppossing team went quietly about their business of playing softball, while the home team chewed itself to bits.  Two of the outfielders came in and got into a yelling match with one of the two female players on the team.  It happened right in front of us.  That's when I grabbed the hands of my sons and said, "It's time to go.  They are not modeling good sportsmanship."  They were not modeling anything of good quality, but the sportsmanship aspect was what stood out at that moment and my boys did NOT need to witness it.  We headed to the playground.

To say that I was disappointed would be an understatement.  I love KI.  It has been part of my growing up years.  The place is full of fond memories of grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.  And now new memories are being made with my boys and my husband.  It's too bad.  I was hoping to add the ball game to my long list of "Things I love about KI."  My mom told me the team has never been any good.  I can understand why.  It's funny.  Earlier that day I saw a young boy wearing a T-shirt with the very familiar saying, "There is no 'I' in TEAM".  Someone needs to explain that to the group of people who insult one another and occassionally play softball.  (I just can't bring myself to call them a team.) 

Of Bathing Suits and Beauty Queens

(FAIR WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS MY CLEAR OPINION OF WOMEN'S BATHING SUITS THESE DAYS.  NO OFFENSE TO YOUR PERSONAL CHOICES INTENDED.)

During our stay at Kelleys Island, OH I have enjoyed one of my favorite hobbies...watching people!  The front porch is perfect for that, especially because we are two doors away from the hoppin' "downtown" part of KIO.  It's a beautiful, quiet island...except on the weekends.  HooBoy, the people come a flockin' in like seagulls!  The language is bad, the drinking is bad, the clothing is bad.  Mmm!  I am so thankful that my boyos are distracted with their play.




So as I sit on the porch watching the golf carts roll down the street, and the pedestrians meander down the sidewalk, I notice the general lack of clothing on the female figures.  The bottoms head up north, while the tops migrate south.  You know, the Daisy Duke look.


The bathing suits are even worse.   They just seem to shrink inward from all directions.


 
Tell me how these hold the girls together!  Please!



My nightmarish thought about bikini bottoms is that someone would give a tug on the dangling string on the center one.  Bye bye suit!  "But it was just a joke!"  Funny Sad thing is, some girls would laugh at it.

I once saw two young girls running across hot sand to the cool water.  With one hand, they held the girls in and with the other they held up their swim bottoms.  I just had to shake my head.  "Why bother?" I ask myself.  "Might as well just wear their underwear."  But then again, maybe their choice of intimates is even smaller...let's not go there.

The suit examples above, I found at Kohls.com.  Pretty modest choices comparatively speaking.  But still ones I would not wear.  And I have several friends who would not wear these either, so I know I'm not alone in my opinions and beliefs.  Speaking of beliefs, doesn't it say something in the Bible about women being modest?  Hm.  I believe so!  Sorry, while speaking the truth I am getting a bit sarcastic in my delivery.  My Hubby's feeling on this is that when women dress this way there is no mystery left for her husband to discover.  Nothing left for her to keep special, just for him.  And I know there are those of you who are concerned about your daughters.  Trying to find modest bathing suits for little girls might not be as easy as it once was.  While I don't have daughters to shop for, I do have my three boyos I need to be concerned about.  We, Hubs and I, need to be teaching them how to respect girls and young women.  It's hard when some of them dress like Daisy.

And for my final thoughts!  I am just full of sarcastic feeling today!  Not sure what it is.  Maybe it's just that I'm fed up with watching people who don't know how to treat themselves or anyone else with respect.  In observing the dress habits of the women, I have noticed that the men dress modestly.  The shorts are long, sometimes past the knees.  T-shirts are big.  Swim trunks are long as well.  So why is that?  What is it that tells women to wear clothing too small to stay on the hanger?

I welcome your thoughts and opinions.


By the way, I have a one piece skirted suit and a two piece suit consisting of a tank-style top and boy shorts.  What do you consider modest?