Happy Easter

from me...

Pipsqueak...

and Sweetie....

Easter Peeps

Ever wonder where all the unsold Peeps go? On vacation, of course.

Pipsqueak is going to wonder how her Polly Pocket playset got sticky, but that's what happens when Peeps go on Spring Break.  (Click on image to enlarge for a full peep peak.)

Freebie Friday

Here are a couple of freebies for you:
Here's one for a Mr. Clean Eraser
http://www.cleanupthatfilthyhouse.com/apr_01.php

And another one for Quaker Rice Snacks
http://www.quakerricesnacks.com/offers/

More Evidence that They're from a Different Planet

Remember the whole "Women are from Venus, Men are from Mars" stuff that was going on eight or ten years ago? I read a couple of the books. They made a few good points, but mostly I found them.... well.... boring and repetitive.

Mostly, Sweetie and I see eye-to-eye on things. Sure, we have our little squabbles, but he is my soul mate and my best friend. But (of course, there had to be a but) every once in a while, something will happen, and I'm in disbelief at his reaction, and I wonder, "What planet is he on?" It's not that I'm right, and he's wrong; it's just that we seem to see it completely differently.

For instance, early this week I got a letter from Pipsqueak's school. She's in a multi-age class of K-2. Next, year the kindergartners will be separate and Pipsqueak's teacher, Mrs. W, will become a straight K teacher. We had expected to have her for a third year. Her class will be split between two other teachers, and Pipsqueak will be in a 1-2 class. I filled Sweetie in so we could tell Pipsqueak after dinner. "Why do you sound so grave?" he asked. "Grave" may have been a stronger word than what I was feeling, but I wasn't happy about the news. I love Mrs. W and the way she teaches, Pipsqueak loves her, too. She would be in a different room, with a different teacher, with different ways of doing things, with different kids and separated from some of the kids she's been with for two years, two of which are her best friends. I knew there would be tears, fears, questions and adjustments.

We told her, and I tried to sound upbeat about it. Of course, she cried. I comforted her and made suggestions for adjusting to this, like her and I meeting with her new teacher, touring the classroom and discussing how she does things. Sweetie said things like,"Change is good," and "Life is full of changes." I don't know who helped more or if it was the collaboration, but she seem to have accepted her fate.

The next morning at school, one of the other moms, Leah, and I got teary while talking to Mrs. W. Leah called me later and we discussed the whole situation: what we knew about the other teachers and the students in the other two rooms. She said her husband, like mine, thought it wasn't a big deal, and had said the same things Sweetie had said.

I didn't understand his laissez faire attitude when I felt in such turmoil and cast into a sea of change and uncertainty. Is it a woman's way to overreact and over analyze, and a man's way to shrug their shoulders and take what comes? It hard to believe that one chromosome can make so much difference sometimes.

Remember When-sday - At the Office

Do you remember...

• The Palmer Method
• red and black ribbons
• Gregg shorthand
• typing erasers with brushes on the end
• the smell of mimeographs
• microfilm and microfiche
• Dictaphones
• elite and pica
• carbon paper
• before fax machines
• wite out
• typing off the paper if you didn't pay attention

My Iron Requirement

I lied. I didn't come back Monday. I wasn't inspired. Some sun might help. It has been cloudy or rainy here for more days than I can remember and now it's snowing. There's no chance of seeing that yellow orb in the sky until Thursday. Even my dog, Monty, is fed up. He goes out to do business, and then comes back in and goes to bed. Normally, he stays out for hours barking at the birds.

If the sun wasn't going to inspire me, I sought some inspiration from you, the bloggers that I love and read. Claire from This and That and K from Blog Goggles blogged about things they want, so I started thinking about what I want. Thanks for the inspiration, ladies.

I want a Lodge cast iron grill pan. I'm addicted to cast iron, which is something that I thought would never happen. Sweetie got this 12" pan, the first in our cast iron collection. I hated it. It was too heavy, and I couldn't move it around easily. Once I started using it, I loved its even heat and versatility. I can brown meat on the stove and put the whole pan in the oven to roast. I also love how easy it is to clean... just rinse and scrub with a brush and rinse again. This pan lives on our stove because it gets used at least once a day.

We got a cast iron dutch oven or stock pot on temporary loan from some relatives that were between houses. Once they reclaimed it, I had to go out immediately and buy one for myself. It is the cooking vessel for every soup and stew I make. I couldn't live without it.

My non-stick omelet pan wasn't living up to its name anymore and had to be replaced. Not surprising after 10+ years of frequent service. I found this set of cast iron pans at the thrift store, and I use the middle one for omelets. I don't know what brand they are, and the quality doesn't seem as good as Lodge, but I like the ergonomic handles.

We have one more pan in our collection... a whopping 15" inches in diameter. This one is a bit much for me to handle, but it's necessary if we're cooking meat for more than four people. I can roast an average size turkey in this. It only comes out when we have company.

Sweetie thinks that the difference of cooking in the grill pan would be insignificant, and virtually the same and using the flat pan. Does anyone have any experience or thoughts on this?

(I apologize for the quality of the photographs. Cast iron and flash photography are not friends, but today's natural light is dim or dimmer.)

Fear of the Unknown

I've been away from Blogger for a few days, and tried to turn my lack of inspiration into perspiration. I did get a lot done, and I'll share a few of my accomplishments next week. Part the lack of inspiration may have stemmed from my mind dwelling on my upcoming oral surgery, which I had this morning.


I realized something about myself. I deal with adversity very well. I can overcome problems, withstand pain and when there's a battle, I'll form a detailed battle plan. What I don't deal with very well is uncertainty. It's best for me to get unpleasantness done and out of the way rather than postpone it, because I can work myself up into a real tizzy imagining and wondering. This surgery is a perfect example.


I've had surgery twice in my life, both of which had unpleasant side effects unrelated to the cause of the surgery. I had my impacted wisdom teeth extracted which resulted in nerve damage. The right side of my tongue was numb for about six months. I also had a c-section. I had an allergy to the adhesive on the bandage which left painful burns. I spent a fair amount of my first week at home with frozen peas in my pants to numb the pain. The incision itself wasn't painful much at all, and all I took was ibuprofen.

So these experiences left me a little apprehensive about surgery. I had an 8mm lump on the roof of my mouth on the border of the hard and soft palate. My dentist wanted me to see an oral surgeon, who ultimately thought it should come off even though it didn't look like a scary kind of lump. "Even though it doesn't bother me?" I asked incredulously. He sagely stated," High blood pressure doesn't bother anyone until they have a stroke, and then it's a little late." It's hard to argue with that kind of reasoning, and Sweetie backed him up with, "At our age, we have to get these kinds of things taken care of." (I hate being at the age, where you can use the phrase "at our age".)

I wasn't worried about the pain, I can take it. I didn't like the idea of a "mush and gruel" menu for a few days, but hey, maybe I'll lose weight. What nagged my brain was what else might happen... something that I might night be prepared for.

So far, all seems normal. The surgery was done before I knew he started. Putting the stitches in made me gag, but he told me I was a great patient. I get to eat all the popsicles I want, because the cold is good for pain and swelling. I've already had eight. The novocain wore off a couple of hours ago, and now it feels now it feel like I burned the roof of my mouth on really hot pizza. The stitches feel like I have a dog hair in my throat. Could it be possible that I just had pleasant surgery? (I'll be back on Monday.)