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In Whatever Form it Comes

Posted on by stephanie2morrow

“Take a deep breath. I smell snow. It’s coming. It’s just my favorite time of the year. The whole world changes color. I love snow. Everything’s magical when it snows. Flakes, flurries, swirls, crystals, whatever form it comes in, I’ll take it. Sleigh rides, ice skating, snowball fights, I’ll even take curling. I love curling.” (~ Gilmore Girls)

I love snow. Did you know? Love it. IMG_20160109_234857Some of the best memories of my life are wrapped up in this frozen water-wonder. Stirring homemade hot chocolate. Making snow cream. Building snowmen. Warming by the fireplace. Sleeping late on snow days. Creating snow angels. Bundling up so thick with layers upon layers that you can hardly move. Catching snowflakes on your tongue. Watching the Northern Lights in Anchorage over a snow-blanketed city. Breathing in the ice cold air and watching the whole world turn white. Love it. Love it. Love. It.

We go way back, snow and me.

When I was a kid we lived in Texas for awhile (where it never snows). It snowed. Five inches.

I watched the snow fall on the Chugach mountain peaks the day my daughter was born . . . August 13.  Yes, August.

My baby boy was born on the coldest day of the year in 1993. Snowed that day too.

It snowed tonight.  A mild, rainy day morphed into frigid flurries, and we will awaken to a sparkling crust icing the ground.  What a perfect winter night.  Stop for a minute and be in awe.

I love snow.

Posted in Just Funny, Minimalism, Uncategorized

Perhaps her heart was two sizes too small

Posted on by stephanie2morrow

Everyone, it’s assumed, liked Christmas a lot
But Steph, who’d felt scroogey, most certainly did not.

Oh, she loved all the sharing and wee balls of rum
And songs about drummers who rum-pa-pum-pum,
But she hated the shopping and wrapping and glitter
And taking the tree down alone made her bitter.

Utility BeforeIt could be perhaps
that her socks were too pinchy
Or the stuff in the utility room
made her grinchy.
But whatever the reason,
the socks or the junk,
She stood here in January,
feeling the funk.

She snarled with a sneer,
“I can take it no more –
This house is too full,
the stuff has to go!”
Then she got an idea!
An awful idea!
Why, Steph got a wonderful, awful idea!

She gathered some empty containers and sacks
And took down the lights and the ornament of Max.
She packed up the wrapping and shiny red balls
And rolled up the garland that decked out the halls.

“Now all I need are some boxes to fill.
I’ll pack up my stuff, and I’ll go to Goodwill”
She cleaned out the closets and shelves of the clutter
And emptied the fridge of the last Nutter Butter.

She boxed up a wreath and a vase and a candle
And even got rid of the “R” on the mantle.
She slithered and slunk with a smile almost gruff
And cleared out the house of all excess stuff.

She got tired more than once, and thought she was through,
But she mustered the strength of ten women, plus two.
She kept working all day and into the night
When she heard a deep voice that gave her a fright.

She turned around fast and saw You-Know-Who
The teenage boy Kevin, who was no longer two.
He looked at his mom with gleaming blue eyes
And said, “Why are you cleaning and boxing up, WHY?”

And you know, that ol’ Mom, was so tired and so sick,
Of working alone, that she schemed really quick.
“Get out the step stool and climb really high,
Take down the tree topper, then be a good guy

Haul these to the dump and then when you can
Load the rest that’s for charity, into the van.”
Her jobs hushed the boy, then she patted his head
And said, “Thanks for helping!” and sent him to bed.

utility AfterNow the chaos was vanishing
from under her roof,
The odds and the ends
were all going “POOF!”
She’d bah-humbugged throughout
the whole holiday season
But please don’t ask why,
no one quite knows the reason.

It just could have been
that her socks were too pinchy.
Or maybe her heart
had become mean and grinchy.
But the most likely reason
for holiday gloom
Was all of the stuff in the utility room.

Posted in Family, Just Funny, Uncategorized

Dirty Santa and the Great Mystery

Posted on by stephanie2morrow

The way I see it there are three good gift types:
1. Something you need that you can’t afford. (Furniture; new car tires; stainless steel cookware; etc.)
2. Something frivolous you love that you would not likely buy for yourself. ($100 hurricane lamp; rabbit-lined leather gloves; 600-thread count Egyptian cotton sheets)
3. Something fun that suits your personality and interests. (a massage; tickets to a concert; a first-edition book)

This leads me to question the “Dirty Santa” game we play with my husband’s family each Christmas. The girls bring a girl gift, the guys bring a guy gift. The girl stuff ranges from spa gift cards to jewelry to chocolate. No problem there. It is the guy stuff that perplexes me. This year the gifts were as follows: wire-ties4Electrical tape; Duct tape; garden hose roll-up thingy; plastic rain gauge; wrench; box cutter; a dozen pairs of work gloves; and various colors of plastic cable ties. Seriously. And they grappled over these things like Hungry Hungry Hippos going after marbles.

Now, I gave this some thought. The girl gift equivalents would look something like: A travel sewing kit; box of safety pins; nail clippers; twelve pairs of yellow dishwashing gloves; spatula; a curling iron caddy; and an old lady clear-plastic rain bonnet.

Am I the only one who sees the humor in this? These are not gifts. These are the purchases of 5 men who do not have a clue how to shop and were equally relieved that none of the other guys knew how to shop either.

Gift cards make sense to me. Big boy toys I can appreciate. Electronic gadgets I understand. Game systems I even like myself. But plastic cable ties remain a mystery to me.

Posted in Family, Parenting, Uncategorized

the calm before the storm

Posted on by stephanie2morrow

We are entering the season: traveling, Christmas shopping, decorating, the early December “calm before the storm.”  I love the holiday season.  Really, I do. I just want it to last twice as long and be four times less hectic. And while I’m not generally a procrastinator, except when it comes to Christmas shopping. I haven’t even begun to think about it, much less actually do it. (sigh)

 I love the cold, the dark, the white twinkle lights, humongous bows on packages, snow, boiled custard, holiday get-togethers, timers that automatically turn my trees on and off, Christmas music, my rabbit-lined leather gloves, appetizers, holiday movies, sweaters, and reminiscing about previous years as we hang each ornament on the tree . . .

aalights (2)I’m not so crazy about wrapping gifts, turkey in any form, pulling boxes out of the attic, property taxes, vacuming pine needles, “Santa Baby”, pumping gas when it’s 18 degrees, or, one of the great mysteries of life: untangling Christmas tree lights which were most definitely NOT tangled when we put them away 11 months ago…

Mostly I just love the whole “being together” thing – the dropping of everything else that clutters our lives every other day of the year to munch on maple bacon and boiled shrimp the size of your palm, play cards, and laugh at each other.  That’s my favorite part of Christmas.

Well, that and “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.”

Posted in Family, Just Funny, Minimalism, Parenting, Uncategorized

Refined Taste

Posted on by stephanie2morrow

 

Standing here at the stove, making a big pot of chili (and wondering just exactly how much cumin is too much?), I realize I’m going to have to make a cracker run before the cowboy packs his lunch.  Eating gluten-free has had so many benefits, but good crackers is not one of them.  In fact, I have come to the conclusion that gluten-free crackers are not crackers at all, but merely packing material disguised with flaxseed.

cracker clubI don’t know if you’re a fan of crackers or not, but they rank pretty high on my snack food list. Club crackers, much like eggs and toilet paper, are a staple at our house. Remember when they used to be in 2-packs in a basket on every table in every restaurant in North America, and how you would make a half-dozen sweet-&-sour cracker sandwiches waiting for your WonTon Soup to be served?

Anyway, one time the kids asked me if I would buy them some more “Good Crackers”. I assumed they were asking if I would replace the Club crackers, you know, since I had finished them off prematurely in a big bowl of milk as though they were corn flakes. So, next shopping day, I brought home a couple of the green boxes.

They never complained, but the next time I was Kroger-bound they asked again,“Please Mom, would you buy The Good Crackers THIS time?”  Sure!  Since Clubs weren’t “the good ones”, cracker goldfishI splurged on a sack of Pepperidge Farm Goldfish (which are price-equivalent to a 16-oz ribeye).  This time I was met with enthusiasm! Yes! Score one for Mom! Goldfish crackers are practically CANDY to children. I mean, how do you not love the snack that smiles back? They enjoyed feasting on them for several days.

However, the question was soon asked a third time:  “Mom, you keep promising to buy the Good Crackers.  This time, please?”  The Goldfish weren’t right either?  What ARE the Good Crackers?  crackers wheat thinsThe children couldn’t tell me by name. So, again I perused the Ritz and Cheese Nips and Triscuits, and  decided they must want Wheat Thins. Once home, I waved the yellow box in front of them with a satisfied smile and asked, “Are theeeeese what you wanted?”  Two disappointed little faces told me I had failed as a parent.

More weeks passed, and on this trip to the market, the kids were with me. As we strolled down the cookie/cracker aisle, they came to a screeching halt.  

They stood, frozen in their tracks, staring at the floor. Heaven opened up. Beams of light illuminated the place at my children’s feet, and I heard the faint singing of the Hallelujah Chorus.

“Mom!!! The GOOD crackers! Please!?”

I looked, and there, at their feet, were the Saltines.

The good crackers.

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You Bet Your Aspergillus OR It’s Not that Easy Bein’ Green

Posted on by stephanie2morrow

Today is “National Clean Out Your Refrigerator” day.

Seriously. I don’t make this stuff up.

24c96-polls_grossfridge_2159_235036_answer_7_xlargeI fully intended to celebrate the holiday in style with green glitter, a Jell-0 salad, and possibly an old “Got Milk?” t-shirt from my breastfeeding days, but I got distracted by the final season of Downton Abbey, and, well, you know.

Better late than never, right? After all, if I wasn’t a procrastinator, my fridge would be all sparkly and organized and I wouldn’t have found myself donning the yellow rubber gloves to tackle this job, now would I?

I began with the top shelf, useful only for items under five inches tall. Spicy 3-pepper hummus, Manuka honey, cottage cheese, jams, jellies, and yogurt, because as much as I hate yogurt, I seem to be unable to not buy it. So, I checked the printed expiration date on the sides of each one, because yogurt tastes exactly the same before, after, and even WAY after it has “gone bad”.

The top shelf also contained seven – SEVEN jars of jalapenos. Why? Apparently to keep the 8 jars of salsa from getting lonely. I must have been planning a Cinco de Mayo party back in June when I discovered that Cinco de Mayo didn’t have anything to do with mayonnaise.  Anyway…I combined the half-empty jars, the mostly empty jars, and the one that seemed to have been saved for the juice alone, reducing the jalapeno count to three, but all of the salsas had crusty residue under the lids, so they had to go.

I discovered something on the middle shelf that required a Haz-Mat Team.
I’m pretty certain, at one time, that toxic Tupperware actually contained a half-eaten block of sweetened Philadelphia Cream Cheese surrounded by blackberries. Today, all covered in enough fuzz to be this year’s Chia Pet, it looked more like The Walking Dead in a Snap-n-Seal.

An Italian take-out box dripping with butter had been shoved onto the bottom shelf, and had collided with a carton of eggs, cracking one and overturning some heavy cream and a container of grated parmesan. The result was a petrified Alfredo Sauce strong enough to cement styrofoam containers to plexiglass.

Finally, in the crisper drawers, I discovered my first UFO (the “F” is for Fermenting), which appeared to be both a solid and a liquid in one gelatinous blob, and something that could, quite possibly, be a shrunken head from the Huambisa tribe in the Amazon Basin.

Or an old plum. Hard to tell.

After utilizing an entire bottle of vinegar (because I’m trying to be “green”), an entire roll of Brawny (because I’m not THAT “green”), the shop-vac and the air compressor, the job was complete.

I’m relieved “National Clean Out Your Fridge Day” only comes around once a year.

I’d hate to have to do this every week.

Posted in Just Funny, Quirks and Other Weirdness, Uncategorized

That which we call a rose…

Posted on by stephanie2morrow

My mother calls me “George”.

We’ve had a cat named “Puppy”, a Mustang “Sally”, and a “Charlie” horse.

I have a pair of stuffed animal racoons from high school days dubbed “Smokey” and “Bandit”.

My iPod is named “Soma” after the addictive drug in Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World. Kevin named his “Life Support”.

You already know about the cow called “Patty” and her offspring, “Slider”, and the two calves christened “Norman” and “Mailer”.

For her 4th birthday my daughter received her first Barbie. She could have named her Buffy or Ariel or Jessica, but instead, she chose the prettiest name she knew: LEONARD.

Our vehicles have had the following names:
“Stella!!!” (An ‘old lady’ Buick)
“Tank the Sable Tooth” (The 1992 white Mercury)
“Fiona” (The green monster Taurus)
“Armadillo” (Kevin’s little gray Dodge)
“Lucille” (Kacey’s current van because, and I quote, “She drives like she’s drunk and she’s always kind of angry and loud.)
And, of course, my beloved “Eddie van Honda” Odyssey.

My kids answer to “Daughter-Face” and “Kevie-Poo”.  And Mayah and Charlotte are affectionately known as “Yaya” and “Latte”.

But of all the weirdly-named things in our little world, my favorite was Kevin’s first Beanie Baby. It was a lobster, which, as a preschooler, he pronounced “lomster” and christened it with the biggest word in his little vocabulary: APPARENTLY.
Appawently the Lomster.
Posted in Uncategorized

half-past what?

Posted on by stephanie2morrow

I have an artsy doula client whose extreme right-brainedness makes even my hippie self look like an accountant. When making our last appointment before her due date she texted: “Let’s meet at the coffee shop on Friday sometime before darkish.”

“Sure!” I replied.  Then I began to contemplate our arrangements:  Darkish? WHO SAYS “DARKISH”? Exactly what time is darkish? Is that as the sun is actually setting (which I googled and is apparently at 7:35 p.m.). Could it be the half hour previous to sunset?  Or…did she mean the few minutes before total darkness when everything loses its color and fades into silhouette?

And even if I COULD decide exactly what time darkish is, how much “before” darkish IS before? Half hour? Ten minutes? I had no idea. But I didn’t want to text her again and come across as uptight to this free-spirit, so to be safe, I showed up an hour and seventeen minutes early and waited in my minivan.

One of the barristas kept coming to the window and staring my direction.

Pretty sure she thought I was casing the joint.