Unhistoric Acts

climb on board

Jordan has been working all week on an argumentative research paper (writing on Texas's non-participation in Obama's Race to the Top program). For the most part, she's been remarkably diligent, writing two or more pages each day. I haven't told her that she springs from a deep well of writerly procrastination. I feel it's best to not awaken her to such possibilities. In all likelihood she'll stumble upon this proclivity all on her own.

I'm a deadline girl myself. Not only do I require a deadline, I need it to be looming large. And then, at the eleventh hour, my focus becomes laser sharp. Then I can write for hours without stopping. Then, racing against the clock, I can pull together all of the various notes and thoughts marching about my desk. So, it's not that I procrastinate the entire process. No, I can research till the cows come home. But the hard part? The thinking part? I need to be forced. Cuz it kinda hurts.

This is undoubtedly an issue I need to get over. I'm no longer in the realm of syllabi and grades. Now I need to work for myself, and darn it if I'm not entirely agreeable...especially when it comes to going out to lunch, or running, or curling up with my husband to watch The Good Wife. I suppose I need to grow up and work for the love of the game.

And I will, despite the fact that I also love lunching out and knitting and staring off into space.

Today I had my 'Come to Jesus Meeting' with my dissertation chair.

She told me to "Come!"

And I said, "Yes, Ma'm."

And that was it. Why can't my lectures with my own children follow like manner?

Right now though, I'm looking towards the weekend. Parker is taking some friends rock climbing for a late birthday celebration. And we have TV church. And soccer is canceled. This all means that after a complete dearth of sleeping-in opportunities (like weeks and weeks) I have the wondrous opportunity of lying in bed TWO mornings in a row. I. Can't. Wait.

some good stuff

Everyone seemed a bit on the grumpy side this afternoon, and I'm not exactly sure why. I mean, I know why I'm grumpy (too much to do that I don't necessarily WANT to do), but everyone else? They should tiptoe around me. Definitely.

In defiance of said grumpiness, here's some good stuff I've seen recently:

I've been following the Our Best Bites blog for a while now (and I didn't even know they were Mormon moms!), so I was anxious to get my hands on their new cookbook. Amazon sent my book on a bit of a wild goose chase, but it's home now and everyone is bookmarking what they'd like to try. Well, they are actually bookmarking what they'd like me to make so THEN they can try it. Sure. Why not? I'm at their disposal. Check out the book here.

I love this cake! I found it here, but the entire site is awesome...full of good ideas. I'm mostly just adding the pics to Pinterest and dreaming about them...not sure I ever intend to make them happen IRL. Yes, my life is becoming more virtual by the minute. No, I don't plan on doing anything about it.

How about this room? Love, love, love.

This is actually a room redo from Secrets of a Stylist, and while I followed Emily on Design Star, I've yet to see her new show. And DO YOU KNOW WHY ??? Because I'm supposed to be working on my dissertation, not collecting new entries on my DVR. Huh. Maybe that's why I'm grumpy. Yes. Definitely. (P.S. the link will take you to all of the before and after pictures).

Let's see. What else?
Oh, I know.
I want to make one of these:



The tutorial looks great. Find it here. Or, how about this variation?

Who doesn't want a little girl with red rabbit ears? I know I do. Tutorial is here.

I have LOTS more, but my fingers grow weary of linking and inserting...plus...I've got STUFF to do. Like painting my toenails. And organizing my highlighters. Real. Important. Stuff.

hmmmmm....

Here Becca is SHOWING me that Nestle Toll House cookies have two sticks of butter. She was a bit more shocked than her cutesy-smile is letting on. I do enjoy when she bakes in the afternoons. She's good for cleaning up the baking mess as well, so yes...she's definitely in high favor today.

I never did tell you about the medical woes of last Friday. It was a doozy of a day. First of all, let me just explain that one of the main reasons I wanted to go on Trek was because those older two girls of mine have a few medical considerations...nothing too serious...but nothing to be ignored...and certainly not something I want to inflict upon other good-intentioned chaperones. However, absolutely nothing of medical import occurred on Trek. I pretty much went four days without a shower for nothing. Well, not for nothing...but you get what I'm sayin'.

To sum it up quickly, Jordan has terrible allergies which can quickly devolve into asthma, and Madison is a fainter. Her fainting doesn't turn into much, but it's a bit scary to witness. I know this because she has freaked me out any number of times. And yes, we've seen four doctors regarding the matter, up to and including a pediatric cardiologist. The consensus is that she has low blood pressure. When her body gives a little adrenalin surge (primarily because of stomach cramps) she passes out. She's supposed to drink LOTS of water and eat a fair amount of salt. But she gets complacent. She doesn't have an episode for six or nine months and then boom! . . .  she's down for the count.

So, Friday, I'm dripping wet out of the shower when my cell phone rings. It's Madison. She tells me she is about to pass out and to COME AND GET HER. I throw on a pair of sweats, brush back my extremely wet hair, and hop in the car. Two minutes up to the high school and I find a pale, shaky Madison in the clinic. We have to roll her out in a wheelchair. She's embarassed, of course, and I'm just trying to avoid her falling out onto the pavement and clunking her head. I have no upper body strength, which would be of great help when trying to steady one's exactly-the-same-height daughter. On a prayer, I get her home and on the couch. Her stomach is killing her, and I force her to drink 8 oz of Crystal Light (and give her pain meds). And by force I mean stand over her and threaten her. She's in pain and can't really focus. So, I'm pretty tough. After 8 oz. I let her doze off. She wakes up about 20 minutes later, eats a lunch-sized bag of doritos (because she needs salt), downs another 8 oz of Crystal Light and is 100% recovered. Geez. I flat out told her that I don't want to hear one work of complaint when she has to change my adult diapers. It's the least she can do for forcing me through the high school with a wet head and no make up. Also for scaring me. Okay, mostly for scaring me. Hate that.

I get a few hours break before I get an ominous text from Jordan (who is in Dallas on an orchestra trip). It goes like this:

Jordan: Mom, we are on our way to Medieval Times. Someone on the bus just told me they have horses in the show.

[Note: Jordan is violently allergic to horses. They cause her to stop breathing.]

Me: That is very NOT good.

Jordan: The chaperones assure me that they will get me a seat as far from the arena as possible.

Me: If they can get that seat four streets over...then things should be fine.

---Some time goes by---

Me: Where the heck are you?

Jordan: In the lobby of Medieval Times. The adults are trying to figure out how to get me back to the hotel.

---In the meantime, Jordan proceeds to sneeze and wheeze and swell up like a water balloon...in the lobby. They quickly get her out of the building altogether and call a cab to get her back to the hotel. Luckily, and when I say luckily I mean LUCKILY, she had her inhaler and some benadryl on her person. Quite often, despite repeated warnings from her sainted mother, Jordan turns up without the inhaler and benadryl. I have bought emergency inhalers in three states. But this time she had it!

Yes, my little baby is growing up.

She called me once she was back at the hotel. She was sneezing and sounded like her entire head was filled with mucus...cuz it was. But she benadryl-ed and inhaled herself back to moderate health.

And then, being the anxious-type person that I am, I locked myself in my bathroom and curled up in a fetal position in the dark while Ingrid Michaelson played on repeat on my ipod. Then I ate a lot of sugar. Then I read my new book..even though I should have been working on my dissertation.

And just so you know, every blog post for the next year is quite likely going to include the phrase "...when I should have been working on my dissertation." I'm thinking of abbreviating that as WISHBWOMD. K?

fast sunday

In our church we have fast Sunday once a month. Typically fast Sunday is the first Sunday of the month, but because of General Conference next week, fast Sunday is today. On fast Sunday we are asked to skip two consecutive meals. The purpose is two-fold: First, we should fast with a purpose. This includes beginning and ending the fast with a prayer in which we might ask for needed blessings or direction. Secondly, we are asked to contribue the cost of food and drink for two meals to a special fund for the needy. These funds are used to aid both those people in our particular congregation and the church at large who are in need of temporal assistance.

As with all religious practices, you get out of them what you put into them. And as parents it is also encumbant upon us to set an example AND teach our children about fasting. Once our children are baptized (at age 8) we encourage them to begin fasting. Mostly, I try to start out small, asking them to skip one meal and talking to them about praying for those in need. But now that Parker is 10 I feel that he can do a bit more. He is the baby, and I am loathe to push him, but last fast Sunday...when we arrived home from church...I encouraged him to continue fasting. He was hungry and resistant. At some point in the conversation I handed the matter entirely over to him. I said, "Parker, it's up to you. I'm going to fast for a few more hours, but in the end you have to make your own decisions about your actions."

He considered this for a moment or two.

He seemed to make a move towards the pantry.

Then he let out this plaintive wail, "But I don't want to feel bad for the Lord!"

We all cracked up. This is one of the great things about having kids...hearing them phrase their own take on rather grown up sentiments. Much to Parker's chagrin, this has become a catch phrase around here. When we are balking at taking the high road we sing out, "But I don't want to feel bad for the Lord!" Luckily, this is just funny (and true) enough that it's keeping people on the straight and narrow. Try it. It's fun.

Of course, fasting requires a good meal afterwards. This Sunday we tried Pioneer Woman's Chicken with Olives. This is really simple enough to make on a week day, provided you are on the ball enough to plan for the hour-long cooking time. Lately I haven't been so much on the ball, so that was my heads up to you. You're welcome. Becca and I also tried out a new dessert.

This cutie came downstairs dressed like an Easter egg...ready for some chocolate. We tried out Baked Bree's Chocolate Pudding Cakes (served with some Blue Bell vanilla ice cream). These were super quick and easy and rather tasty.  They would be perfect for dinner guests. They require about 25 minutes in the oven, so you could pop them in as you put dinner on the table and pull them out as people were finishing. Plus, they are in ramekins. I get fairly excited about anything in a ramekin. It seems somehow fancier. (If you don't currently own ramekins, you can pick them up at Walmart or Target. They are inexpensive and super handy.)

I had promised a new menu for the week, but since I received a long-expected why-aren't-you-turning-in-anything-on-your-dissertation? e-mail, I may have to amend my grand plans. I will be making Our Best Bites' fried rice for Monday and Baked Bree's Easy Weeknight Barbecue Chicken with Chardonnay Carrots for Tuesday. After that it might be Kraft Mac N Cheese or Pizza Hut. Or cereal. What ever happened to cereal for dinner? We need to bring that back.

So. Back to the salt mines. I still need to prepare my seminary lesson and get some reading/writing in tonight. Hoping for a quiet and productive week. Cross your fingers.

to and fro

If I really wanted to sum up a day I'd include a picture of my desk. It's strewn with journal articles and drafts and notes. I actually worked today! I know. I'm shocked too. I worked all morning and until 2:30 on my dissertation. It felt good to stop procrastinating and put pencil to paper. Except it was more like putting fingertip to keyboard...but you get the idea.

At 2:45 the girls come home, and by five after three I head off the meet my boy. He bikes to and from school. We lost our bussing a year and a half ago, but as a reward our MUD district paved a nice little path around a retention ditch (not sure of the technical term) that leads right up to the school. I love the path. It makes me feel all nature-y and such. Nature without discomfort...now that's what I'm talking about.

The nice MUD people also put a sidewalk from the street to the path. This is good because for a while we were riding on grass and the pumping was tiresome. I like how they made it all curved and quaint...so much nicer that getting from point A to point B. We get to visit C and D and M along the way.

To the left of the curvy path is the "forest." We are city slickers, so this counts as a forest to us. Mostly, it's a place where we let captured creatures go "into the wild." I have a tiny turtle in my kitchen that is due for release today.

Normally I ride along the curvy path, around the retention ditch-thing, and up to the school and wait for the boy to emerge. The kids come barreling out of the school all full of vim and vigor, demanding snacks and after school play dates. Parker usually walks to the bike rack with a group of friends. It's nice...suburbia at it's finest really.

This pond of sorts is just beyond the "forest" and is the future home of our tiny turtle. Parker likes to stop by after school and look around for all of the friends he has released. It's also a good place to throw stuff, and I suppose if I wasn't around these boys could get themselves into some real trouble. Good thing I'm practicing my helicopter parenting skills. That's really starting to pay off.

After the pond, we hop on our bikes and race home. If we are lucky there is microwave popcorn for snacks. If we aren't there is always fruit. Today was a fruit day...hope the Cougs have better luck in their game tonight. I'm pulling for the Jimmer!!!

i'm old and i like cupcakes

Here's a sign that you are getting old: You've been seeing the same OB/GYN for 18 years. Seriously.

I only thought of this today because I had ye goode ole checkup, and so I hauled myself out to downtown Houston. Every now and then (when asked what doc I see) people exclaim (sometimes excitedly so) that I would drive so far. It is far. And I've considered finding someone closer. But come on people, 18 years. It seems just too late to switch. Plus, I'm a fiercely loyal person. This doc took a serious case of infertility and turned me into a bonafide procreator, so I'm going to stick with success. Not that I'll be procreating; let's just set that straight.

Debbie has been dying to try an Indian food restaurant recommended by our knitting teacher (who is Indian), so she offered to come along since the doc and the food are in the same general area (Bombay Brasserie, if you're interested). As our Indian food meal came to a close, I whipped out my trusty iphone and started to search for dessert. I really wanted a good French macaron, but couldn't spy a likely location on that tiny screen. I did, however, find an EXCELLENT cupcake bakery within walking distance. It's called Celebrity Cupcakes and is in Rice Village. So, so good. I've decided to start a photo collection of all of the cupcake shops Debbie and I visit. Here's no. 1 (first pic, definitely not the first cupcake shop).

This is, without doubt, the best cupcake I've had in Houston (and I've tried alot). Rice Village and I might be getting much better acquainted.

Did I ever tell you I worked at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts prior babymaking? I did. For lunch we often took the short ride to Rice Village. That was when I was young and cool (sorta). Now I'm old...remember...18 years?

My point? Other than I'm old? It's fun and enlightening to get out and explore your city. Right before Trek, we celebrated some birthdays at Tiny Boxwoods (click on 'cafe' link from main page) in Highland Village.

Tiny Boxwoods was definitely a break from the suburban scene. Breaks are good. So is Diet Coke with lime. And cupcakes.

Both photos taken with my iphone...not bad, huh?

a sprinkling of random thoughts

 
I have a real desire to simplify my life. A large part of that desire includes lightening my burden of material things...I want less to clean, less to trip over, less to worry about. I want to concentrate on people. I want to soak up the beauty of the world. I want to commune...with something.

And yet, I couldn't really pass up the paper bunnies at Target.

I think this means I'm not ready for an ascetic lifestyle.

Also, my kids tell me they love the seasonal "junk." It makes the everyday a bit more exciting.

Let's go with that.

In other news, several friends have requested a menu for the week. I've been flying by the seat of my pants thus far (meaning without a menu), but I promise a good, in-depth menu for next week. I'm already working on it. Tonight we are having breakfast burritos and fruit smoothies. Kind of healthy. Kind of a lot of calories.

Here's a trek story for you:

One of the really stand-out experiences at trek was the Woman's Pull. The Woman's Pull was exactly what it sounds like...only the women pulled the handcarts. This was done in memory of the women who trekked alone while their husbands were called away with the Mormon Battalion (and also for all of those women whose husbands died along the way). You know me. I'm all about girl power, so I was fairly stoked for the Woman's Pull. Bring it on.

The men and boys left and we pulled the handcarts for roughly 1/4 of a mile on flat, easy terrain. No biggie. We were joking and laughing all the way. Then we rounded a corner and saw "the hill." It was a steep (exceedingly steep), rocky hill with a huge rock ledge about 3/4 of the way up. In addition, there were a number of large, boulder-like rocks blocking the way of the wheels...making the going even tougher. I'm not going to lie to you, it didn't look easy. But still, I wasn't concerned. Sure, we needed to push a 500 pound handcart up a super steep, rocky hill, but we had lots of girl power. I figured what we lacked in brute strength we could make up in ingenuity...should the need arise. Ours was one of the first carts in line. I took the front rope (with my friend Tracy) and we started to talk big. Well, I started to talk big. Tracy mostly just nodded. She does that to me alot.

Did I mention the men had reappeared and were lining the sides of the path up the hill? And they were singing a hymn? Hmmm. I wasn't a big fan of their witnessing our attempt (lest I make a fool of myself), but no one was asking me.

Why does no one ever ask me ANYTHING? Why?

To make a long story just a little less long, I'll go ahead and tell you that all 27 carts made it up without any real problems. My friend Diana did fall and scrape up her nose (Hi Diana!), but she picked herself right back up and pushed along. The carts did often balk on the rocky ledge, but several additional women would throw themselves into the fray at that point and the carts jerkily made their way up. In truth, it was a bit of a high. A bunch of us ran back down the hill to help the next carts. I wasn't paying a bit of attention to the men. There wasn't really time. I was working on not being crushed by a giant handcart, or slipping on the rocks, I couldn't really watch the men watch me. (Not that the men were watching "me," per se. They were watching us. Geez.)

But at the top of the hill a boy looked straight at me and said, "This is so hard to watch."

I was all, "What? We're fine. What? Huh?"

But I couldn't really stop to chat because the cart was moving along and I didn't want to find myself under the wheel. I'm picky like that.

Later I found out that many of the men had cried watching the procession. Even Sterling said he got choked up watching Jordan and Madison work their way up. He felt helpless. He was worried.

And I do think that sentiment is so very sweet. And I can understand those feelings about his little girls. For him, he was looking at the Woman's Pull as emblematic of things to come, that he would have to stand back and watch his daughters face the world on their own two feet, that often he wouldn't be allowed to step in and take over, that he wouldn't always be able to protect them. I totally get that.

But I think that for many of the men there was such a fierce desire to help and protect that the inability to perform that function left them stunned and emotional. I may be alone in thinking this, but I really wish those sentiments were somewhat different. I kind of wish they would have felt proud and triumphant that we pulled some 13,000 pounds up that steep incline. And certainly there was some of that as well. But for the most part, those men wanted to take over, to remove the burden, and I think that is detrimental. Women needs experiences like the Women's Pull. We need to see that we can accomplish things together. It's not that we don't need men. We do. It's that we can stand on our own two feet along side of them. And our men need to acknowledge that support and protection is a two way street...even if methods of support and protection differ.

I know. You've heard it before.

I'm done. It's the end of my soapbox. For a while.

Annie linked to this hilarious take on handcart companies in last post's comments. I'll be considering my celebrity handcart company over the next few days.

been there, done that

We made it! We trekked. We cooked outside, slept on the hard ground, pushed a 500 pound handcart over rocky terrain, and drug eight kids with us along for the adventure. I wouldn't necessarily say it was "fun," but I would wholeheartedly proclaim that it was worth it. The kids had a great time, and I may have learned a thing or two about myself along the way.

I don't currently have any pictures of the trek itself. My role (as a "Ma") absolutely precluded me from bringing my big camera. Not only was there no room for it on the handcart, there was no guarantee that it would be protected from bad weather. Also, just as an aside, I had no time whatsoever for picture taking. I worked from 6 in the morning until 11 at night just keeping my family fed and together (except for that time I had a contraband Diet Coke). Lucky for me, however, my SIL Debbie went along as an "official" Trek photographer, so I'll be stealing images from her just as soon as she starts the editing. Rest assured, you will see me in all of my pioneer glory.

The picture of the refrigerator is a celebratory documentation of the wonders of forced cold air and technology in general. It was quite liberating to put down my iphone for four full days, but I was equally happy to walk into my house and behold the refrigerator, and microwave, and my beloved iMac. I marvel at the ingenuity that has produced these devices in the last 150 years. I marvel and I thank my lucky stars.

Between talking with friends and family, I feel like I've already rehashed the trek any number of times now. I've told the stories and laughed about the mishaps. And still, I feel like I need to record some of it here to remember it by.

I don't know a lot about the psychology of groups and group mentalities, but I can tell you that by the end of trek, the group of 300 (250 teenagers and 50 adults) had achieved some sort of strange metamorphosis. Everyone was so united in purpose (this purpose mainly included surviving trek) that normal modes of operation, which generally include a good dose of self-interest, were generally non-existant. The kids helped each other. I remember at one point our cart was out of water. The sun was beating down, we were all red in the face and sweating, and most everyone was running low. I put my cup underneath the cooler only to find that nothing was left. Immediately, several different kids offered their own water. When I thought I couldn't work for another minute, I looked up to find another adult setting up our tent. What I found, most of all, was that all of my efforts went to helping the people around me, and all of their efforts were likewise spent. I wasn't rushing home to read or grade or surf the net. I wasn't checking facebook on my phone or answering e-mail. I wasn't watching tv or worrying about the number of calories in my next bite of food. I wasn't planning my next big purchase or mentally decorating my bathroom. I wasn't worrying about soccer practices or orchestra concerts or cub scouts. I was solely focused on helping those around me -- keeping them hydrated, moving them along, feeding, motivating, offering a kind word.

And wow. I got along with everyone. I liked everyone (and I don't generally like people much). I felt a unity of purpose that...just maybe...I've never really felt before. Unfortunately, my real life isn't much like that. My kids need me to worry about soccer practice and orchestra and scouts. I need to grade. And if I don't think about calories there will be consequences to pay. But still, I plan to keep some of it...to work a little harder at helping others along their journey, to think less about my decorating and more about making someone else's life a little easier. In doing so I hope to be a little kinder, a little more Christ-like, a little happier.

Geez. Seems like I really DID learn something. Imagine that.

still here...preparing for a dirty week

Things heated up at the end of last week and the olde blog became but a distant wish. Seriously, I was running around like the proverbial chicken with her head cut off. I left Friday afternoon for Beaumont, TX to run the Gusher Half-Marathon. But our big Trek...the big pretend pioneer thing...that's this week (Spring Break) and eqipment loading was last Saturday. So, I needed to get everything packed and ready to go for THAT by last Friday at 2:00. Much of my prep involved actually sewing the clothing the girls and I would wear.

The Trek itself is a simulation of the original pioneer trek, where Mormon pioneers (and gold seekers) crossed the United States in the 1840s, traveling from Iowa City to the Salt Lake Valley. Yes, we are walking. Yes, we are pushing handcarts. No, there will be no showers. Or beds. Yes, there will be deoderant. At least I've packed deoderant and all manner of sweet smelling substances. I'm not sure about the 250 teenagers attending. It looks to be a smelly week.

Sterling and I are going as a "Ma & Pa." This means that we will be the mother and father for a fictitious family of 10 (4 girls, 4 boys, and us). Jordan and Madison are also going, but they will be in their own fictitious families, treking their own fictitious treks, pushing real-life handcarts, and enduring real-life bugs and such. Dude. I'm stoked.

The treking will take place in Lampasas of all places. This was a complete fluke in that the committee was looking for thousands of acres of untamed wilderness and someone in Lampasas has just such a ranch. This is also handy as my mom will be tending Rebecca  and Parker while we are treking...and she'll be doing it just a few miles away. With showers. And AC. And a refrigerator. Just. a. few. miles. away.

Also, she'll have Diet Coke.

We'll have water. Dude. I'm stoked.

I will say this. There have been literally thousands of man/woman hours poured into this event, so despite the weather and bugs and lack of 600 thread-count sheets, it should be a sight to behold. I feel pretty lucky because Sterling is a camper-extraordinaire, so I know he has my back in the difficult-outdoor-circumstances department. I certainly wouldn't want to attempt this without him.

Not that I couldn't do it on my own. I could. Cuz I'm stubborn. But it's nicer with him. He's even made a homespun rope machine so that he can make his own rope. See, that's the difference between us...I'm planning on just surviving...he's going to manufacture his own rope.

Each participant is supposed to have two changes of clothing, one they wear on the day of...and the other packed (all of your personal effects had to fit in a 5 gallon bucket). I sewed each of the girls and myself a long skirt and bought long sleeved, button-up blouses at Goodwill (we have aprons and bonnets too). I have today and tomorrow to sew a dress for each of the girls. Mine is done (see above). So...there will be a fair bit of sewing around these parts.

Tomorrow I'm getting donuts. That's all I've got to say.

weekending

Would you believe that after all of the rain Saturday morning, it was blue skies and sunny by Saturday afternoon? I could hardly believe it myself. It also got cold, and I flat refuse to pull out winter blankets and clothes again. I'm done. We'll just have to freeze for a few days.

Saturday afternoon we met some family at Maggiano's to celebrate Madison and Parker's birthday. Again. Yes, and the celebrating is not done even yet. At an earlier run to Learning Express, I decided to pick up some party favors to keep the kiddos busy. I also decided to pick them up because I was enamoured with the word 'snifty.'

I got each of the kids a little notebook and a Snifty...a smelly pen. The Snifty combines all of the wonder of the scratch-n-smell sticker (or even the smencil) with a pen. I'm a sucker for smelly commodities (as long as those smells fall somewhere along the lines of lemon ice, patriot bomb pop, and root beer float).

Becca helped me get everything packed up nice and neat. I didn't want any unnecessary discussion over who got what Snifty. I just wanted ease and peace. Really, that's all I ever want: ease and peace. I'm willing to package accordingly.

The dinner went swimmingly. And...Jordan played with her notebook and pen for a good half hour, proving you are never too old for some before-dinner entertainment. Next year? The fuzzy poster.

Sunday was filled with Janice Kapp Perry. Love her stuff. Google her...