Welcome Karis!

She's here!

Karis Michelle was born on July 5, perfect and beautiful.  She weighed 7 lbs, 2 oz at birth, and is a healthy and content baby. 

Her name, Karis,  means grace. (We pronounce it like 'care-iss,' not the way it sounds at the link, though.)

1. that which affords joy, pleasure, delight, sweetness, charm, loveliness: grace of speech

Who wouldn't want to speak that over one's daughter?  Not to mention, grace is much needed while we navigate this new adventure of parenting two girls.

Lizzie goes back and forth between adoring her baby sister ("bay-ee sisser") and acting up out of feeling displaced.  It's a bit of a struggle to keep her on an even keel, but over all, she is doing well.

It is kind of a strange and wonderful thing to refer to them as "the girls."  We have girls, plural. 

The last week of being home has honestly been better than I expected (again, grace), and I am feeling great.  Sleep has been rare, but we are getting what we need.  Friends from church have been bringing meals and adorable outfits. We are blessed.


I'll do my best to share my birth story soon (it's a good one), but I did at least want to give an update.  Lizzie is up and asking for a bagel, so I had better get it while Karis sleeps, and before Lizzie changes her mind.

(I'm linking with Alicia's Homemaking Try New Adventures, and Home Sanctuary's virtual Coffee with the Company Girls.)

Garden Update

You may remember that I had shared a fantastic plan for our Square Foot Garden for this spring.  It was a tad  bit ambitious.

Well, that ambition has been checked.  It's really due to the need for our land to be graded.  Our back yard turns into a muddy bog when it rains.  And we're kind of afraid that one side of the house is sinking and making our drywall crack.

Cute, right?  I mean the garden.

And we have at least 8 pine trees that need to go before we feel that our roof is safe.

So, considering that all these yard improvement projects will cost us a small fortune, and because a truck would have to drive directly over our garden plot to deliver fill dirt, we have decided to hold off on the full plan.  It's probably better to start slower, anyway, considering what all is going on this summer.

Thus, our abbreviated garden.

Yes, my Texan friends, that is a Buc-ee's shirt.  Eat your heart out.

This is only 2' by 2' and it is actually only a leftover piece from a container garden that my dad made to surprise my mom for their anniversary.  There are two plants in it so far: one cherry tomato, and one cucumber.  They will need a trellis, but that isn't quite necessary yet.



There are 2 more square feet available, and I am debating what exactly to plant there.  I think I will start putting in a few lettuce plants each week for a little while, until I have a good little salad bar setup.



We also have 2 blueberry bushes, one of which has a handful of berries coming along!  I'm hoping rabbits and birds don't steal them before we get to them. 

Do you have a garden going?  How does your garden grow?



My New Adventure is nothing like Alicia's this week, but I suppose we're adventuring along the same lines this year. :) Congratulations to her growing family!

New Orleans Beignets

A while back I got a craving for doughnuts.  But not just any doughnuts, I wanted Krispy Kreme.  (I do love that about being pregnant; I don't have to have any reason to crave something like doughnuts.)

No, I didn't make Krispy Kreme doughnuts, but I made something else--something similar--that was amazingly delicious. 

While searching for a method for stir-frying some vegetables and tofu for dinner, I got side-tracked in The Joy of Cooking.  I found myself in the "Doughnuts, Cruelers, and Pastries" section, debating whether or not I could make beignets.

I had never eaten a beignet before in my life.  But I'd heard good things about them, so it was worth a try.  (The stir-fry?  Yeah, whatever.) I ended up using the recipe from the Joy of Cooking.  It is very simple, and uses only minimal ingredients.  The dough is essentially a sweet yeast biscuit.  Fried.

It requires a bit of advanced planning, in that you mix the dough up the day before, and let it sit in the refrigerator overnight. 



The next morning the hardest part is rolling the cold dough onto a floured surface while you wait for oil in a heavy pot to get hot enough to fry.  Even I can handle that.

One of the highlights of this experiment is how I discovered that the easiest way to cut the squares is with a pizza cutter.  Some people have biscuit cutters, but I'm not that fancy. 

It is super fun to watch them cook. They puff up while they cook, so they're almost like little doughnut balloons.  (That means fewer calories, right?  I mean, since they're mostly air . . . .)

Another highlight:  It's really no more labor-intensive than making waffles.  Of course, waffles don't involve deep frying, but can you imagine if they did?  Are the wheels turning in your head, too?  We may be on to something.

It only takes a matter of minutes for the dough to become delicious puffed fritters.  About 3 minutes for each batch.  If you're having a brunch, this would be a super impressive, and quick to serve, part of your menu.

 

Another thing I learned:  If you use a cheap candy thermometer, make sure you have it tied securely.  The string I was using rebelled and untied itself, so my thermometer went swimming in 300+ degree oil.  It took me a minute to figure out how to get it out (with tongs, then it was transferred to a big wad of paper towels).  Apparently the top of the thermometer was not meant to be submerged in oil.  Go figure.

That thermometer did sacrifice for a worthy cause.

See that section at about 2-3 o'clock?  Yeah, I ate those before I took the picture.  And then I ate several others.  They taste kind of like funnel cake.  Only, more delicious.  And you don't have to wait for the fair.

Have you ventured into trying something new?  Do tell!  Link up with Alicia's Try New Adventures, too!

Square Foot Garden Plan 2011

Behold, my plan to put at least 22 varieties of vegetables and plants in a portion of our yard no larger than a standard bathroom:

There are still a few empty boxes--because I know I'll have to rearrange things when I actually have plants or seeds in my hands.  And when Sam and I go later today to Lowes (my local store has 50% off Burpee seeds this week!), I'm sure I'll end up buying some things that are not on my list, but will need to be incorporated somehow.  Impulse gardening?  I guess there is such a thing.

Am I crazy?

I have an almost-two-year-old and am expecting a new baby in the middle of the summer (i.e., the growing season).  I can barely manage to make my grocery list some weeks, and here I am creating a new project to involve myself in daily?

Yep.

Do you know how Square Foot Gardening (SFG) works?  It's pretty awesome.  You allot one square foot per plant variety in a raised bed.  Some plants require more than 1 square foot.  Since we're somewhat pressed for space, we will use mainly the smaller varieties, except when it comes to the summer squashes.  Tomatoes, squash, and peas will be trained on a trellis, so they have a small footprint and plenty of room to grow upward.

Last year I planted 2 blueberry bushes (which I hope will spring into action this summer), and one cherry tomato.  That little tomato plant did moderately alright, and it gave me just enough hope and a taste of getting fresh tomatoes to whet my appetite to garden for real this year.

Why are we doing this?  Part of it is to see if we can.  Part of me believes it will be rewarding.  Fun, even.  Part of it is to have a reason to go outside every day.  So Lizzie can experience growing plants, playing in dirt, and picking strawberries.  So Sam can have a garden for the first time in his life.  He will learn as much as I will, and hopefully be able to help other people with their gardens.  He'll also have 16 fewer square feet of lawn to mow.  And so we can have fresh greens for salads, vegetables for stir-fry and for the freezer, sun-ripened tomatoes and peppers, fresh herbs, and more zucchini than we will know what to do with.

I'll keep you posted on the progress of our little adventure.  The plan is to buy the materials and seeds now, but there is not a lot to be accomplished before the average last frost date (in this area, around April 15).  Assembly and planting will follow.  And pictures!

Lizzie's 1st Haircut

Dun, dun, dun!

A few nights ago, while Lizzie was bathing, I had finally had enough of her wet little rat tail, and got out the scissors. 

I have never cut Lizzie's hair before.  Yes, she is nearly two years old.  

The thing is, her hair has several strange traits, none of which make it a candidate for a haircut. 

For one, her hair grows from a swirl from the back of her head.  See it, just southwest of the easterly pigtail?  That is where her hair grows, and it grows forward.  If she were to have bangs, they would of necessity start behind her ears.

 

Secondly, her hair is fine, and even on her first birthday, it was about as long as a grown-out buzz cut.

Finally, on top of getting my exact color and hair texture, she received the cowlick that I also got from my mom.  Thanks, Mom.
The tricky thing about this cowlick is that it is also on the opposite side from the thick swirl in the back of the head.  It's like the perfect storm, colliding mid-head.

 

 

Fortunately, her hair is finally long enough that we can get it in pigtails, and for a few minutes, even a braid.  Do you see the random strands in the back, that are a couple of inches longer than the rest?  Those are the ones I decided must be dealt with.

So just days after that cute little braid, I got out the scissors.  I would advise against the covert bathtime haircut method.  It was going fine until . . . .

That missing chunk will grow back--right?

At least the other side looks pretty good.  And at least I didn't give her bangs that go around the whole front half of her head.  At the rate her hair grows, she'd still be working on growing those out in middle school.

Not bad for a first try.

Do you cut your own kids' hair?   I'm not sure I will do this again for a while, but I'm also not sure I would take her to one of those fancy kids hair cut places.  What do you do?



I'm linking up with Alicia's Try New Adventures today!

Adventures in Breadmaking (1)

Last week I struck gold at the Salvation Army store nearby.  I've had several adventures there, one of which included locking the baby in the truck.  In fact, I hadn't been back since November; I guess that particular time was pretty traumatic.

For years I have thought in the back of my mind that it would be wonderful to have a bread machine.  About 20 years ago my parents bought a DAK machine, which is still running, even though the DAK company has been defunct for years. 

image credit DAK Auto Bakery

Nothing could quite compare to walking in the door from a long day of errands, piano lessons, or just being outside, and meeting the aromas of dinner in the crock pot and a golden loaf rising in the bread machine.  My mom is smart; she knows that errand day requires dinner to be made by a machine.

There have been a few times in the near 6 years I've been married that I have attempted to make yeast breads.  The effort was grand, and the results were less than stellar.  The conclusion is, if I want bread, it has to be the quick bread variety (like banana or beer bread), the kind the comes out of a can that pops when you open it, or I have to buy it made already.

But, this all changed when I saw this beast on the floor near the appliances.  And for only $12.99, I nearly squealed!

Really pretty, right?

I opened it, inspected it, took it apart (partially), put it back together again, plugged it in--everything checked out.  I hurried eagerly to the register and bought it before anyone else could see it and take it out from under me. 

When I got it home, it took me hours of searching online for a manual and printing it (seriously, it took me 45 minutes to figure out how to print the pages into a double-sided booklet), and it took me literally several days of prying, scraping, and pounding, using olive oil, two screwdrivers, and a spatula to remove the dough hook from the bowl.  Apparently many yeas of disuse left it nearly fused to its washers.  But I was not to be deterred!  I was at least going to test it out to make sure it worked.  I figure that at this price, if we get a half dozen loaves of decent bread, we'll get our money's worth. 

It takes up as much room on the counter as a microwave, and there's no way that and a crock pot or rice cooker would all fit in the kitchen at the same time.  It has to live on the floor in the garage when it's not being used.  But who cares, if the house can smell like a bakery for a few hours every couple of days?

Bread, glorious bead!

So far, I've made pizza dough, which was a success, and one beautiful loaf of egg bread, which will surely not live long enough to see the light of day tomorrow. 

Gorgeous and perfect egg bread, wouldn't you say?

I can't wait to try out wheat bread, cinnamon rolls, and bagels!

Do you have a bread machine?  What's your favorite thing to make?

In Which I Lock the Baby in the Truck

I thought the keys were in my pocket.

The morning started smoothly enough. It was a perfect, clear, sunny day--the kind that you wish were the norm every day of the year: chilly in the morning, and dazzlingly bright and warm by lunch time.

On a mission to find size 2T long sleeved shirts, I packed up Lizzie, the stroller, and a cup of Cheerios to hit one of the local thrift stores, where they have all clothes half off on Wednesday. Half off? Why don't I go there more often? I collected a handful of toddler shirts, pants, and a velveteen dress, plus a couple of kitchen accessories, paid for them with a $5 and two $1's, dropped the shopping bag in the truck, then walked to the big pet store chain in the same parking lot. The Guinea pigs were a hit, and we made friends with the kittens for adoption.

It was getting to be close to lunchtime, so we made our way back to the truck. I loaded Liz into the car seat, and hit the clicker, so all the peripheral doors would lock. Because it's safer that way. She was settled, was chowing down on her Cheerios, and I shut the door to throw the stroller in the back.

And then I froze.

There were the keys.

On the seat.

Inside the truck.

With my baby.

Who was happily chewing, smiling, and kicking her sneaker-clad feet. She held out the cup of Cheerios, offering them to me.

I smiled, waved, and pulled my cell phone out of my jeans' back pocket. Thank God I at least had the phone on my person. "It's OK, baby. Hi, honey!" I say, listening to the phone ring on the other end of the line. "Eat your Cheerios. Don't drop them!"

Maybe one of the doors wasn't all the way closed. I walked around the vehicle. Nope, they're all soundly latched.

Still no answer. I wave to Lizzie from the other side of the truck. "Pick up, pick up! Oh, please, Jesus! Make Sam pick up his phone!" Sam doesn't always hear or acknowledge his phone ringing.

Voicemail.

I hung up and dialed a second time, and he answered. "Sorry, my mom was talking to me--" I cut him off.

"I need you to come. I locked Lizzie in the truck."

"You lost Lizzie?!" Oh, thank God I didn't lose her!

"No, she's here, I locked her in the Suburban. I need you to come with a key."

"I'll be right there."

We live only about 5 minutes away from the shopping center where I was stuck, so I knew if we could all just avoid tears, everything will be OK.

Looking back, I'm glad no one called the authorities; I could have looked suspicious the way I was hovering outside a huge SUV, peering in the passenger window, and then nervously panning the parking lot and passing traffic. I think I freaked out the Hispanic girls getting back to their Beetle parked next to me. They loaded up their goods as quickly as they could, avoiding eye contact (not that I was trying to draw attention to myself in this embarrassing situation), and keeping a good distance from me.

L was completely oblivious. She was having a grand time. As long as she did not spill her entire open cup of Cheerios before her daddy showed up with a spare key, she would continue to be fine. But I worried, because I didn't want to have to try to console her from the other side of the locked door.

We played peek-a-boo. We blew kisses. We pointed at each other and laughed. She picked up individual Cheerios and held them out to me, as though I could bite them out of her fingers through the window. I commanded her to not drop them. We signed "I love you" (our version, anyway).

And then Lizzie signed "Jesus loves me" with the biggest pleased grin on her face. My heart stopped.

Little ones to Him belong, they are weak but He is strong. Over the past few days I had begun teaching her the song, but I didn't get a lot of feedback from her. "Strong" is Lizzie's favorite part of the song, because she flexes her arms and grunts, then laughs.

"That's right, baby, Jesus loves you. He's right there with you, even if Mama isn't in the truck with you." She was so happy, so content. So assured that she was safe. From that moment, our waiting was full of the peace of God.

Another few minutes passed before Sam pulled up, in full running gear, and we unlocked the truck. Rejoicing, I got in the car. I am thankful because though it was inconvenient, frustrating, and one of those really embarrassingly dumb moments, nothing traumatic happened; and I am also thankful because Sam had not left for his 3 mile run while I was out, which would have made his prompt assistance impossible. The rest of the day was uneventful; we drove home, had lunch, read stories, kept the laundry going.

And all afternoon, dwelling in my mind were the words, Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you. Hebrews 13:5

Sausage & Shrimp Gumbo

We were young. We were in love. We had no idea how to prepare meals.

Six years ago, two of my best friends and I had met the men we were going to marry, and we were all just months of being engaged. All three of us still lived at home with our respective parents, and it dawned on us that if we were to become wives, we should learn to make a good dinner.

One of us hatched the plan to prepare a meal together, with our mutual moral support, in my mom's kitchen, for our dashing, sweet, and hungry men. So one sunny afternoon in the fall, the three of us pored over cookbooks, searching for the perfect recipes, making a comprehensive grocery list, and doing our best to prepare a delicious meal. One that would win their hearts, straight through their stomachs.

Our dinner party was a success: we learned quite a lot, we made a dear memory, and we were all married within a year.

Looking back, I'm not sure why we chose to make two soups: Minestrone and Gumbo. But our beloved men didn't complain. They even ate seconds. And they sopped up every drop with Beer Bread. While listening to a CD of Nora Jones. They were such good sports.

This is the gumbo recipe. It is taken from The New Good Housekeeping Cookbook. My variation is simpler. I use smoked sausage instead of Anduille sausage. I use frozen "gumbo mix" vegetables instead of chopping fresh. I used cooked shrimp, because that is what was in my freezer.

Last week I made this for the first time solo, and I took pictures. This is my first recipe with a photo tutorial!

Sausage & Shrimp Gumbo

• 1 pound sausage (smoked sausage, or Italian sausage, or Cajun sausage)
• 3 Tablespoons vegetable oil
• 1/4 cup all purpose flour
• 1 16-ounce package frozen gumbo mix vegetables (or 2 stalks celery, 1 green pepper, and 1 medium onion, all chopped, and later add 1 10-ounce package frozen okra)
• 1 14-ounce can or 1-3/4 cups chicken broth
• 1/2 cup water
• 2 teaspoons hot pepper sauce
  
• 1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
• 1/4 teaspoon dried oregano
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 pound large shrimp, shelled and deveined
• 4 cups cooked hot rice, prepared according to package directions
  

Heat a 5 quart dutch oven over medium heat.
When it is hot, add the sausage.
I sliced the sausage. If you use an Italian or Cajun sausage that have casings, be sure to prick the skin with a fork so they don't explode.

Let them get browned, about 5-10 minutes, then remove them with a slotted spoon. (If you are using a different kind of sausage, let them cool enough to handle, and slice them into 3-4 pieces each.)
Leave only about one Tablespoon of the grease in the dutch oven.
Add 3 Tablespoons vegetable oil.

Next, add the flour to make a roux. You want about equal parts oil and flour. Stir constantly, and do not let it burn. Cook until it gets a light brown, and thickens. You don't want to taste raw flour in the finished product.

Here it is getting a little more golden.

Here you see it is thickening enough to leave a path when I scrape the bottom.

Next, add the vegetables.
My mix had onions, celery, corn, peppers, and okra.
I felt like it needed more celery than what came in the frozen package, so I sliced a stalk.

I separated the okra, and added it at the end, so it would not be as slimy.

Add the vegetables to the roux, and cook until they are tender, about 7-10 minutes for fresh, about 5 minutes for frozen.

Then add the sausage back to the dutch oven.

Gradually stir in the broth, water, and frozen okra.

Add your spices.

Heat to boiling over high heat, then cover and simmer for 15 minutes.
Add the shrimp, and cook until they are pink and opaque throughout (if using raw), or heated through (if using cooked).

Remove bay leaf before serving in bowls over rice.
Makes about 6 main-dish servings.


I'm linking to Alicia's Try New Adventures Thursday (because it revisits an adventure from the past, and it was an adventure to try it again, and try a photo recipe, to boot!)

Babies and Candied Apples

Friday is here!
It's so good to have Sam back home. He was gone for a full week (Wed-Tue) and I don't know how single parents do it, but I have a great amount of respect for them. One week of single-handedly caring for an infant was enough for me. It actually wasn't the baby that was so tough, it was the baby plus the dogs.

Funny story of when we went to pick up Sam at the airport:

The airport is about 45 minutes away (without traffic), so it's quite a long time for a person who hates to be confined to be strapped into a carseat. Fortunately, E was happy and then she fell asleep shortly before we got to the airport to pick up Sam at the curb. So when he got in the car, he was so happy to see her, that he talked to her and woke her up. I can't blame him, she's stinkin' cute and he missed her a lot, probably more than he missed me. That was all fine and dandy for a few minutes until E got pretty frustrated that no one was picking her up. Great, we have a screaming baby, and 30+ minutes before we're home.
Well, Sam had bought me a caramel/chocolate/candy-covered apple in one of the stores in the airport, and it was conveniently cut into wedges, so we could eat it without getting it all over our faces. Brilliant, and delicious. Seriously, that was the best apple ever, and it was so sweet of him to get it for me.
About 5 minutes into the screaming baby ordeal, I have an epiphany: give her a slice of apple to chew on! I told Sam to lick the candy off of it so all she gets is the apple, and he does so, and says, "there will be some residual, though." Of course, that's fine. I had given her plain apple slices to gnaw on before, and she's loved them, so I knew this would appease her until I could get home to feed her.
A few minutes later, she starts squalling, and I glance back there to ask Sam what's the matter.
He's laughing. "She only wants the sweet part. She has candy all over her face!"
"What?! Babies aren't supposed to have caramel or chocolate or candy! You're supposed to lick it all off!"
"Well, oh well!" Sam just continues to be amused. "She's advanced, she can handle it. And she really likes it."
Of course she does. If she has a sweet tooth later in life, it's because she got started early on caramel. But the next slice of apple we gave her, I was sure to bite off all the sugary coating. A hardship, I know.

Here is a picture of the little stinker with her candied apple and caramel all over her face. And the big stinker, who got so much entertainment out of it.

Did you have fun today?

I haven't put anything up here in a long time, so I figured I would add something.

Since last time I wrote, we have gone on vacation, so I should post something from our trip:

Back again

I'm back again!







Camp of Champions Texas was wonderful, and it was such a privilege to be involved there last week. I am grateful that I flew instead of being part of the road trip gang, though the road trip has its place.

Settling

I ran across this verse this morning: Psalm 107:7

He led them by a straight way to a city where they could settle.

It was sort of the verse that carried me when my family was moving from MI to GA when I was 16, that encouraged me to know that the Lord had a purpose in the move. I thank God that He brought us to Atlanta, every time I think of it.

But when I read it this morning, I began to wonder whether I am settling, rather than venturing. I feel "settled" right now, and it is a good feeling, to not be striving, to not be struggling to just have a basic sense of sanity.

Several years ago, I was going through probably my greatest and deepest spiritual growth spurt, and I remember making a statement that I did not want to settle spiritually, rather be a spiritual sort of pioneer, always looking ahead to the next adventure, always cutting away to the place where no one else has gone or seen or tamed.

I feel like I have two of those little cartoon shoulder voices, one a little angel and one a little devil. One says, "Oh, but it is really hard to move out from what you know, and you're not doing too badly. You don't need to do anything more than you are now. You can have an adventure later. When you're actually bored. You can just enjoy this peaceful, comfortable feeling for now."

But the other says, "You know that's not what you want. You really know that the only way you can be truly content is to keep pressing on and pressing in to what the Holy Spirit is prompting in you. You don't have to know how or where to start, just seek His face, and you'll venture beyond where you are by being transformed."

So my heart has to choose, will I relax and grow more and more discontented as the days go by? Or will I press 'onward and upward'?