Neighborhood Group

We have recently joined a neighborhood group that meets every Sunday night… and it is so refreshing!  We have never been involved in a discussion/fellowship/party group before with people who live so close to us… in our neighborhood!  Imagine! (hence, the name!)  There are seven families who attend regularly ranging in age from 3 months to 80s.  I LOVE the cross generational mixing for our kids.  With our homeschool groups we tend to stick with people who have kids the same ages as ours, obviously so they can be taught together.  All the more reason I’m loving this group… a brand new little baby girl was there tonight.  So sweet.  Takes me back.

The stories that have come from the neighborhood groups at our church are truly remarkable.  We’ve met so many people at church who are there because a neighborhood group reached out to them when they had a need.  One couple was out of work and had a newborn.  The neighborhood group in their area didn’t know them, but heard about their plight.  They supplied the couple with diapers for six months straight.  It doesn’t seem like a huge deal… but diapers are expensive, even when you have a job.  They folks had never gone to church before… now they do… because of the neighborhood group.

Before we joined this group there was a family in our neighborhood whose child fell into a campfire and was being treated at a burn center in town.  They also had two other small children at home.  So the neighborhood group sent out an email and for twenty-one days straight, dinners were delivered to their house.  What a blessing!  To the giver and the receiver!

We’ve never really made it a point to meet the neighbors that live more than two doors away.  We are in a cocooning society, where everyone drives up to the their house, into the garage, the door goes down and you don’t even know what anyone really looks like!   Sad!  I’m not pointing fingers…. I have never seen the woman who lives next door.  They moved in over a year ago.  What a great neighbor I am!  My goal this week is to go over and knock on the door and introduce myself.  I’m usually home, so if she ever needed help for some reason, I’m here…. but she doesn’t know what I look like either.  ENOUGH!

It’s time to be neighborly.  Join me, if you will.

I’m Not Pushing Up Daisies

In case you thought I ran off and died, or something, I didn’t.  I’m not dead.  It is simply NEVER a dull moment around here… not that it needs to be dull to blog… but seriously, I blinked and eight days flew by. 

Nothing out of the ordinary, other than my brave, strong and sore husband hiked the Grand Canyon last weekend…. in rain and sleet and even snow.  C-R-A-Z-Y… totally.  A clue to the weather conditions may have been the closed highway leading to the canyon… but NOOOOOOOOOO!  The 17 C-R-A-Z-Y men found an alternative route and kept right on going.  Instead of a leisurely three and a half hour drive it was EIGHT hours. Yes, the following photos were all taken in Arizona. 

(photo courtesy of Barnabas Moses… who also didn’t put in his deposit for next year.)

After the delayed drive, the need arose to take the FAST five mile trail to the bottom, to beat sundown.  As if hiking the Grand Canyon in rain and sleet and even snow wasn’t bad enough….. imagine it in the dark!  It continued to snow the entire next day while the men rested at Phantom Ranch… and the next day as well…. providing fun five foot tall snowdrifts across the trail on the way out… that could only be passed on their hands and knees.  But I digress.

(photo courtesy of Andy Leebrick… not sure if he put in his deposit.)  Notice the bottom left corner for more hikers on the switchback trail.  I think Rick is the mostly blue person in the number four spot… but I’m not sure.

Rick is back home.  He’s mostly fine, but he did walk funny for a few painfully slow days.  He did not put his deposit in to hold his spot next year.  Hmmmmmmmmmm.  He said it was the hardest thing he’s ever done in his life.  Hence, the tight-fisted deposit money still in his tightfist.

Cactus in snow is just wrong.  Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

P.S.  I’ll have pictures SOON of Zaza’s tea table and chairs!!!!  I’ve been a busy bee painting them!

The Rain Gutter Saga

We’ve lived in this house for over four years… with no rain gutters.  This is not usually a problem here in the Sonoran Desert.  However, this week we are surviving the worst storm in 17 years and a rain gutter hit the top of my NEED list.  There are four slanted roof surfaces that all guide the water to the overhang BANG in front of our entryway.  Because we have a flat tiled roof, the water created a curtain of mini-waterfalls that you had to pass through to get in or out of the house.  Usually, like I said, we don’t get much rain, but I was aware of the torrential downpour that was coming this week, so I splurged and bought a rain gutter, an end cap and brackets.  I arrived home in the darkness of night, albeit clear skies, and decided the gutter would meet the front of the house in the morning.  Unfortunately, the following morning the rain was also meeting the roof and making said curtain of mini-waterfalls during the installation period. 

The entire process was indeed photo-worthy.  We were only out there for about 20 minutes, but the pelting water was relentless.  Austin and I were soaked right through to the skivies, and not forgetting, through to the soles of our shoes. (Well, mine anyways.  He had on flip-flops.)

Yes, that’s me braving the elements.  It was a bad hair day, hence the hat. 

The following picture of Austin installing the supports for the brackets almost shows the wall of water that we used to experience just to his right.  It had however, reduced to a slight sprinkle by this point.  A reprieve for the rain gutter installers.

Keeve’s job was to pile large rocks where the water was now directed to and would indeed be causing a gorge without deterrents.  Of course, this could not be accomplished by an 11-year-old boy without sticking his head IN the spout of newly, redirected water.

When the dry season returns, we plan to paint the gutter to match the house trim…. and if we’re feeling generous, we might even buy more gutter to reach the end of the house, like most normal gutters do.  But no promises.  I’m just happy that we can leave the house without taking a shower.

Downspout, sweet downspout.  Brings a tear to my eye.

You’ve Got a Ticket to Ri-ide!

For Christmas, my brother received this new to us game called Ticket to Ride… Europe.  We have since played it 27 times and are loving it.  We loved it so much that we ordered Ticket to Ride North America for my husband for his birthday… which is Feb. 3rd, but we gave it to him within 20 minutes of it arriving at our door.  We wanted to make sure he got it before he leaves tomorrow for three days.  (We’re so thoughtful!)

Anyway, the game is a good mix of Settlers of Catan (building roads vs. building train routes), Risk (conquering the world) and Pit (collecting matching cards without the swapping of cards).  The North American version, I believe, came out first.  It is the dumbed-down version without all the bells and whistles of Europe.  In N.A. if you don’t get to a train route first, you’re outta luck and have to find another round-about way to get there.  In Europe, you simply put down a train station and use the other person’s route…. for a price, of course.

There are a few other versions of Ticket to Ride, as well as some expansion packs.  The game industry has truly figured out how to milk the most money out of us as possible…. expansion packs… GAH!  And at $20-25 each!  AFTER you paid $50 for the game.  They are unfairly using families like ours, who are totally game addicts, by limiting the number of players in the original game….. and then selling expansion packs.  And we fall into the trap EVERY time!

We invited friends over to play Europe and we played two games right in a row!  They called us the next day and asked if we wanted to come over and play again.  They went out and bought it the next day!  See!?!  Good game!  It’s set up on our dining room table if you want to pop by and give it a whirl.  Yes, we’re studying the Middle Ages, so if we play the Europe version, it counts as school!

14 Seconds of Important Information

Today was supposed to be the day I call our adoption case worker in Texas to find out what is happening with our adoption of our little Zaza.  At 9:00 am I instructed all three children to remind me at 11:00 to call Texas!  Bah!  I need to set the kitchen timer next time.  I called ten minutes late…. after frantically stopping my reading of Charlemagne and William the Conqueror, dropping the book and yelling, “What time is it?!” 

I got the Texan answering machine.  Shoot. 

Since the children were preoccupied making papier mache Medieval helmets and crowns in the backyard, I called the ortho for a consultation for Keeve.  The ortho receptionist is quite thorough in her appointment making procedures…. and while I was reciting every number, name and code word associated with our dental plan, my cell phone was ringing… and ringing… and yes, it was our case worker.  Shoot!  But the ortho consult is a go.

So again, while the children were coating their clothing, each other, the picnic table and one son’s black SLIPPERS (what in the world?) with floury/watery paste, I dialed the Texas number once more.  Nada.  I left message #2.

Working my way through my To-Do list, I put in another call for a class at our church.  While the kind lady was giving me ALL the information, my cell buzzed that there was a voice message.  I was beside myself with inquisitiveness, bailed on the kind church lady and told her we’d sign up online.  Click. 

Finally, NEWS.  Well, 14 seconds of adoption news that will affect our family for our entire lives….. (drum roll, please)… we have moved from #19 to #15 on the wait list.  Whooo HOoooo!  Progress!  What that means is: since Oct. 25th, ONLY FOUR kids from the 5-6 age group have gone home to their forever families!  ONLY FOUR!  Now before I totally hyperventilate and slam the keyboard keys right through the computer desk, we need to remember that the courts in Colombia close from Dec. 15 to Jan 15…. so it’s really four kids in two months time.  If ICBF stays at that rate (which is so unpredictable because of multiple variables…. but I digress) our name should hit the top of the list in seven months… AUGUST!  Oh, not that my timing or planning have anything AT ALL to do with this, but leaving Phoenix to pick up our Zaza for the month of August would be a dream come true! 

It’s time for me to break out the little tea party table and chair set that I have all primed to paint cutesy for Zaza’s room.  It has waited for months in the garage for news that we are #15.  Well, actually for any news….    Fifteen sounds so far away, but it means that 2010 is HER year!!!!  So excited.

Hockey Night in Arizona

 

Yes, the greatest goalie of all time, Martin Brodeur,  was at the Coyote’s Den on Thursday and we were there to see him in his glory.  Unfortunately for Brodeur, the Coyotes showed him that the ice isn’t melting in the desert.  Poor Martin let in four pucks and we were happy Coyote’s fans. New Jersey only scored three. (Bah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha….. woo whoo whOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooo!)  That was a Coyote howl, in case you didn’t recognise it.

This all started when Circle K (like 7-11) had this screaming deal where you bought cases of Pepsi and you received free hockey tickets.  Well, after $30 of pop was stacked in our garage, we were the proud owners of six tickets on the sixth row right behind the Coyote’s bench.  Sweet tickets!!!!  We did family night, but since our little girl is still in Colombia, we took our nephew Drew with us.  I’m not sure if he was the lucky fuzzy rabbit foot, or what, but he and Keeve were invited to RIDE THE ZAMBONI!  Any Canadian’s dream come true.  They rode for the second intermission and I took them down to the tunnel while Rick stayed topside to take pictures with his phone.  His phone usually takes really good pictures….. unless you’re in the Jobing.com Arena and they turn out the lights while your son and nephew are on the zambonis cleaning the ice!!!!  Here’s the best picture we have of our son riding the zamboni. {sigh}

They even had a spot light on the boys, put their names up on the big screen and pictured them waving for 2 or 3 minutes each.  It was so cool.  Keeve pointed at Larisa and did the “call me” sign with his hand.  Drew started doing the wave with his hands hooked together because his arms were tired from waving.  They were elated!!!!

And then to make a fun family night at the arena even better, some camera guy spotted Larisa and her and I were up on the big screen TOO!  It was like being famous for .27 of a second.  We always talk about how they zoom in on unsuspecting people and then when they figure it out they point at the big screen.  So of course we did that, in large over-exaggerated movements and shocked looks on our faces.  (Still makes me giggle.) A little old man saw Larisa after the game and told her, “You look good on tv!”

THEN, if the cheap tickets, good seats, two Zamboni rides and the big screen debut weren’t exciting enough…. the HANSON BROTHERS showed up!  And Larisa got to pose with them.  It was THE hockey night of hockey nights in Arizona.

To sweeten the deal to the max, because the Coyotes scored at least three goals, we all got FREE Burrito Supremes at Taco Bell!  Oh my word! This was better than Vegas!

School Has Started

Can you tell?  I’m still not quite caught up with everything, but by next week I’ll be golden.  Konos, grammar, math, worldview and Larisa’s History of the World are all going strong.  I still need to decide what to do with Spanish for the boys.  We’ve been using a highschool level course, that has been ok, so far, but someone gave me an elementary version, so I need to give it a looksie and pick one or the other.  Larisa needs more of my time than he got last semester, so my blog time is limited.  (I wish my love of math was transferable to  non-math-loving children.)

The naked house is slowly getting dressed.  The family room was put back together today as we needed the end table to stack our library books.  The pewter picture frame collection for the entry table is out… but not set up quite right.  Next week…. golden.

Please stand by for exciting hockey news.

Naked House

Since the removal of the real live Christmas tree (and the fourth or fifth dumping of the water from the stand on the carpet) and the fake Jenny Craig skinny tree with blue ornaments, the regular furniture and accessories have not made their reappearance in the house yet.  It looks quite naked in the living room and the family room. The garage is uncomfortably stuffed at the moment.  We need to bring in two coffee tables, three lamps, one chair, two silk Ficus trees and whatever used to be on the entry table and the piano. 

I think I’m liking the barrenness of it all.  Less to dust.  Not that I ever dust anymore.  I have children who do, despite the  infrequency that it gets accomplished.  Embarrassingly enough, the dining room chairs did not get their seats wiped for months… and in the dusty AZ desert, that is NOT good.  A guest in black pants, who shall remain nameless, came over, sat down, scooted back and unknowingly dusted one of the seats for me.  Yikes!  When said guest was not looking, I caught Larisa’s eye (the living room duster….) and pointed to the dust on our guest’s backside.  Good grief!

We had house guests visit for five days, so the loft/sewing room/school room had to be cleaned out.  I dusted the sewing machine and folded it back into its table.  I even dusted the elliptical machine.  It does get regular use, but the metal bars are a magnet to dust balls.  One of my helpful children loaded all the fabric from its obvious hiding place under the cutting table into a black garbage bag and to the garage. And even the loft/sewing room/school room looks bare naked at the moment.  It makes me feel lighter…. or slimmer…. or something.

All this nakedness needs to rub off in our master bedroom.  I desperately need to clean out the file cabinet drawers and file all the files on my desk.  It is a seriously organized conglomeration of files that simply need a home of their own instead of a pile… many piles… neat piles, but piles nonetheless. 

Anyway, I’m staying downstairs because it’s all naked and clean feeling down here.

The Bean Dream Day

For the first time in our almost 23 years of marriage, my husband awoke this morning at 7:30 am and said, “I had a dream last night.”  This may seem usual to you, but not to me.  He never dreams!  Ever!  Or if he does, he cannot remember them at all.  I, on the other hand, have vivid dreams in shining colors almost every night and can retell most of them for days.  See, opposites do attract.

To make a really long story very short, we have talked about a new book idea that I have schemed about for almost six months.  We jotted down ideas at Chipotle one night last Fall…. which brought both of us to tears.  It’s obviously a topic near and dear to our hearts.  Of course it’s top secret, and I can’t share quite yet, so you don’t steal the brilliant idea.  I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.  (Name that movie.) 

Anyway, Rick’s dream was about this awesome marketing idea for the book that I haven’t written yet.  It is now affectionately called the Bean Dream, and goes down in history as the best idea God has ever given him in his sleep.  Well, that he can remember.   I’m sure part of Rick’s button bursting moment was the fact that in the Bible it says YOUNG men will dream dreams and old men will see visions.  This was definitely a dream… not a vision.  (hahahahaha)

Sleepily I listened and then pondered and then finally responded, “That is a good idea!”  Rick emphatically stated, “That is a GREAT idea!“  To which I agreed…. and then couldn’t go back to sleep.  So, the plan unfolded before my fingertips on the laptop in bed as the sun peaked its sleepy head over the mountaintop and spread its golden beams into our room. 

OOOHHHhhhhhh, this is good! 

Tonight I showed Larisa what we are planning and she read the whole schpeal and replied, “This is really good.  Where did you get this from?”  “FROM GOD!” and once again, my own child was totally impressed with her parents.  It was a happy mommy moment.  This is such a rare occasion, that I just had to blog it.  If I remember right, the last time she was impressed by one of her parents was in 1998 when I set up a tent by myself. 

An-ti-ci-pa-a-tion is making you wait.  Sorry.

Egg McMuffins

Last month, I awoke early one fine day and made my dear husband and myself Egg McMuffins… almost just like McDonalds.  English muffins, an egg, a cheese slice and 1.5 pieces of bacon broken up to fit in the muffin.  I’ve made these for years, but for some strange reason, my two boys never wanted them, or can’t remember them, have never had them, or some other strange reason.  The very same day last month when I awoke early and made the English muffins both boys viewed the delicacy and requested said muffins.  It was like the window of heaven opened and the ambrosia was discovered! 

Since that momentous day, I’ve made approximately 57 Egg McMuffins, but who’s counting?  Yesterday both boys had two for breakfast and then late in the afternoon, #1 son was found in the kitchen making his own Egg McMuffin!  It’s as if they are protein deficient or something.  My boys usually aren’t the picky type, but #1 son requested REAL sliced cheddar cheese instead of the cheap-o American sliced cheese on his Egg McMuffin.  I’m only too happy to slice REAL cheddar cheese, after all, I’m the mother.

Yesterday,the same exact day #1 son was found in the kitchen making his own Egg McMuffin, I took a trip to Costco and bought eggs, cheese and the grand-poo-bah size package of Thomas’ English Muffins, to ensure a plentiful supply.  I’m ready for another week.

My only beef with Thomas’ is the massive collection of little grainy thingees on the bottom of the muffins.  They feel like cornmeal or Cream of Wheat, but they aren’t.  They’re smaller and more annoying.  The little grains ALWAYS end up on the counter and the floor no matter how careful I am.  I even brush them off into the sink, but they magically appear on the floor.  Yes, Thomas’ are the original nooks and crannies, but I’m starting to favor the Walmart no-name stacked English muffins.

(This post is in no way associated with or in partnership or advertising cahoots with McDonalds or Ronald McDonald or the Hamburgler.)