Just a Little Eye Candy

I know you are all sitting patiently waiting to for the Denmark Day 5 post. It is still coming. I made myself promise not to post anything until it was done, but I can't take it any more and decided to send a little tidbit your way.

This is a photo of the 40 pink roses that I helped my dad order for my mom on their anniversary. We were all up at the cabin together and I was trying to get a good shot of the flowers but couldn't, so Julie, one of my fabulous sisters-in-law, pulled out her super-nice camera and took this shot for me.

I love the heart shape of the flowers and the heart shape of the twigs behind the flowers. They were gorgeous and big in real life and my mom loved them. And with my past history in floral design, I could not pass up the chance to share their beauty.

Okay, now back to Denmark. Just needed a breather. It is coming!

I Really Can't Say

I have lots to say or lots to write. I just don't want to say any of it and jinx myself out of action at the moment. What action, you ask? I will tell you in a minute. In the meantime, 

I don't want to say:

• That I have a cold right now and have played the dramatic heroine to a fault for the last 24 hours--lying around on my couch, moaning piteously, crying abruptly and generally making myself even more miserable than necessary. 
• That I inherited said cold from one of the 32 relatives I just spent the weekend holed up with on our annual "cabin trip." Late-night movies, constant snacking, and too little sleep. And let me tell you, a roaring chest cold was worth the fun. 
• That my family has a love of nicknames that is unparalleled. And I made a list this weekend of a few that are used with wild abandon: Chardo, Clinny, Dude, Speed, Fatty, Jamie Jr., Snockley, Spook, Jorgito, Buggy, Rosen, Berfie, Dauwwin, Ruby, Bubba and SuperMave. And that's just a few. Now, can you guess which one is mine? 
• That my great, big, fat surprise is about to be unveiled. Except no one will really think it was such a surprise. Or that it is was so big. But let's just say it was a herculean effort for me. 
• That I really did stick to this allergy diet (remember no wheat, dairy, sugar, preservatives, peanuts, soy, corn or citrus--in case I haven't trumpeted that list enough yet) for the entire trip despite feeling magnetically drawn towards every can of Pringles and willing to make an unholy alliance with the Swedish fish. I didn't resist either. I just promised a future play date. 
• That despite all of my efforts to abstain, when I purchased some "all-natural" cough drops in the valley of my cold-induced zombie state yesterday, I thought I purchased the no-sugar ones. Only to suck down the entire bag in 18 hours and then discover that the number one ingredient on the bag: sugar. I'm hoping we can just pretend the little blip doesn't count against me on the two-month allergy-free diet thingy.
• That I really did have a genuine "fat" moment in the health food store the other day when I was hunting down some wheat-free bread. One sweet little Scottish lady started talking to me about her own search for the perfect gluten-free bread (she has celiac disease) and I was feeling the love and the sisterhood for a few minutes only for her to veer the conversation into how much weight I will lose if I stick with it and then I sat frozen in time for the next ten minutes while she waxed rhapsodic about how she lost 30 pounds and it CHANGED HER LIFE and I will obviously lose vast amounts of weight too. Which means she totally understands the boat I'm in and how my life WILL CHANGE FOREVER too. Needless, to say I took my little cruise-ship self and sailed as far away from her as I could all the while wishing desperately that I had retrofitted myself with weapons of mass destruction and could blow her little rowboat out of the water. 
• That my experiment in making olive cheese bread with brown rice flour bread and almond cheese did not equal the delights promised by the photo. And on to the next cooking adventure. 
• That a once-in-a-lifetime event did occur this past Sunday. My parents were treated to instrumental heaven when each of their eight children came together to a perform a song in their honor on the instruments we had learned in childhood: a tenor sax, a trumpet, an alto sax, a flute, 2 guitars, the piano and a violin. It lasted about two minutes and my mother was beaming the rest of the day. I think she realized that not every penny they spent on music lessons had been wasted. At least not if we could put that kind of smile on her face fifteen years later. 
• That my father is a true romantic. When I assisted him in ordering flowers for his and my mother's anniversary, he nearly gasped when I quoted him the price for 40 roses. And I had tried to dampen the blow by underestimating the cost. Yet, despite the gasp and the almost auditory scraping of his economic bones together, all that came out of his mouth was "Your mother is worth every penny." And my heart sang with renewed hope in true love that day. 
• That my gorgeous mother and my excellent father celebrated 40 years of marriage this past weekend. And we are the lucky, lucky fruit of that blessed union. 
• That I have very big test this week. And lots more studying to do. 
• That I've probably said too much already and should be in bed. Especially with this cold. 
• That having such a cold really does garner some great sympathy when you speak with a raspy, whispery voice, cough repeatedly and sneeze gratuitously on anyone within spitting distance. People leave you alone in such a condition. You can really get a lot of work done when they do that. 

So, what is the action I don't want to jinx myself out of that I referred to waaaaaay back at the beginning of this post? An action, I'm afraid my readers may have suspected would never materialize: A return to the Denmark posts! Yes, every excruciating detail and inside joke is about to be yours for the small price of waiting sooooo long for me to resume the story. You too can join in while my wild and wooly clan traverses the kingdom of the Danes and experiences this coastal, green, magical land for the first time. 

Day 5 is coming! 

Just one little caveat. As if there haven't been enough so far. First it was school, then my birthday, then my house was a mess, then I had a nervous breakdown, then I wanted to quit my job, then it was the day after my birthday, then I barely survived the one-two punch of finals and Christmas, then it was after Christmas, then I had to start this allergy-free thing, then I had to plan for the cabin trip and on and on and on. 

But I really do have a caveat despite all the previous excuses I have come up with. The test this week. I may not publish Day 5 until that is completed. If I don't, then you know I'm just acting the part of busy little beaver and trying to stay on task with my test (cross your fingers and your toes for that one) or if I do post Day 5 before this weekend you will know that I'm doing everything in my power to avoid studying for that test. And nothing takes up my time like combing minutely over a big blog post from the Denmark trip. 

So, to get you all fired up for the return of the Denmark Chronicles, here are the first four days for your perusing pleasure:

Day 1: Traveling
Day 2: Tivoli Gardens
Day 3: Copenhagen
Day 4: Part 1: Copenhagen Temple
Day 4: Part 2: Danish Saints

See you soon! And remember to cross your fingers and toes for one busy little beaver. 

It's Giveaway Time

RedRoko 

is having its 

very first giveaway 

for a Valentine prize! 

Don't miss out on this handmade gift. 

This year you can give valentines full of not only love but also great style. 

Conversation with a Six-Year-Old

JB was at my house yesterday and we had a little chat. As a six-year-old, she is doing her best to figure out the world and her place in it and all the anomalies that pop up in her life. I am an anomaly. I'm an adult, I'm out of college and I'm not married. Most of the other adults around her are married and have kids. I could tell her head was spinning with these realities as she came out with this particular gem the other day.

She was playing toys with her little brother and her cousin in my little living room/kitchen while I fixed them a snack. Space is tight so we have to maneuver around each other sometimes. JB seemed to be considering this issue when she spouted out this thought. 

JB: When you grow up and get big and never get married, you get to move into a tiny little apartment, not a house.

Me: Well, no, you could buy a house. I want to buy a house some day and then you will have lots more room to play when you come over. 

JB: Why don't you buy a house now?

Me: (sputtering just a bit) I'm not ready. 

JB: Lots of people get married and buy house.

Me: Yes, but not all people. 

JB: Why don't you just get married? 

Yes, why don't I? 

RECIPE: Smoked Paprika Almonds

The allergy-free diet has been going strong for a week now. While I'm pleased as punch about this week, I'm even more interested to see how week 18, 19 and 20 develop simply because I'd like to have jumped all the hurdles I'm going to have to jump through to actually arrive at those weeks. In other words, mama wants to know if she can make it that long. 

It has by no means been a obstacle-free week. For example: 

• opened and used a can of black beans and then looked a the label only to discover that it contained sugar. I like to think I'm a pretty consistent label reader but this one caught me totally off guard. Why is sugar added to beans? 
• foraging after a party at the parents' house this weekend and took a big old bite of flank steak only to realize within seconds that it had been marinated in soy sauce (contains wheat); that didn't stop me from taking 3 or 4 more bites; it took me that long to wrestle myself away from it. 
• could not eat my smoked paprika chicken without what I call special sauce (mayo, ketchup, dijon mustard) and said a fond farewell to ketchup (contains sugar) as a part of that mix; know that I will be experimenting with making my own ketchup just so I can keep making the special sauce.

Thank goodness in all of this for Elana over at elanaspantry.com. She's been keeping me sane. She's also been keeping me cooking. In the last few days, I've made her chocolate chip cookies, her almond butter blondies, her cod piccata, and her smoked paprika almonds. All were yummy, but the smoked paprika almonds were fragrant and smoky and hot. I tested them out on Meg's clan and got rave reviews. 

I modified the recipe a bit because I'm not a spicy hot fan. You should know though that any recipe that starts with fresh garlic and smoked paprika is going good places. 

Smoked Paprika Almonds 

from Elana at elanaspantry.com

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 cloves garlic

3 cups raw almonds

2 teaspoons smoked paprika

1 teaspoon celtic sea salt

1. Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat

2. Add garlic to the skillet and saute for 3-5 minutes, until the garlic is almost brown

3. Add smoked paprika and salt and stir to make a paste

4. Add the almonds and stir constantly until they are thoroughly coated

5. Continue toasting almonds in the skillet until they are fragrant, about 5 minutes

6. Remove from heat and allow the nuts to cool in the pan

7. Serve

They actually made me think of popcorn too. There was this delicious, toasty smell wafting through my house the rest of the night and I ate more almonds than should likely be consumed in one four-hour period. 

Easy, fast and you may not be able to stop at just one!

What's Lost is Found!

I lost my camera month ago when I took my sister and my niece to The Nutcracker. We had one of those fun, fancy outings where we went to lunch and went to the ballet and participated in the Sugar Plum party afterwards. It was a great day. Except that the camera has not been seen since that day. 

I've made phone calls, searched my car and begged and pleaded to find the camera. I feared that I dropped it in the snowbank along my driveway or that I misplaced it in all the hubbub of our big day. I've gone through my car no less than three times searching for it in every corner and crevice. 

Then things got really bad: I started dreaming about it. I would wake up from a dream so happy because I found my camera. It was in my hands again and I was taking pictures and uploading them recording the big events and daily minutia that made up my life. Only to realize that my discovery was a dream. 

Sunday after church, I was loading five kidkins into the car for our weekly after-church party at my house when I caught a glint of sunshine off something in the cubby of the passenger door. As I reached down and touched it, I nearly hyperventilated and started screaming--an act while not premeditated was NOT a good idea with five children around me. I started babbling incoherently: My camera! My camera! I found my camera! I've been praying about it! I've been praying about it! My prayers were answered. I found my camera! 

I felt like I had won the lottery. I knew I loved my camera. I knew that I missed it. But until you nearly burst into tears in front of the preschool crowd because you found your favorite, lost, digital appendage, you have no idea how much you missed said appendage. 

So for your delight and mine, I recharged the battery, loaded her up and snapped away the day I found it. It just happened to be Sunday dinner at the parents' house. Okay, with a few shots of my place too. 

This was the last photo on the camera taken from the back seat of the car on the way up to the ballet. Look at the wild socks. Any guess who?

My favorite little lamp that sits on the counter and makes me think "cottage" every time I look at it. 

I don't think I ever shared the new black linen cupboard that has now been residing at my house for several months. I break into a smile every time I look at it. It expands the shelf space of my bathroom by, oh, let's see, 200%? 

Pillows on the couch. I've got to find new pillows--or, gasp! make new pillows--but the pillow effect is a must for the couch. 

The kitchen is clean. It's not been so clean the last week with all my cooking adventures, but when it is clean, I like to record it. For posterity, that is. For posterity that doesn't exist yet, but if they ever do, I'm hoping they will like my cooking. Or at least know how to properly admire my kitchen when it is clean. 

Miss P. She's one of the reasons cooking has been fun. She hung out with me the other night and we made cookies. She said next we are going to attempt pie. I say attempt is an appropriate verb because pie is not yet something in my repertoire. She assured me she would assist me. 

Mr. K. with a rubik's cube. I hated those things as a kid. Never figured mine out. I finally just pulled the whole thing apart and put it back together manually with all the right colors. Then I never touched it again. I'm not much of a puzzler. 

Oh, she loves having her picture taken. Yes, she does. She'd much rather be on the other side of the camera but I caught her anyway. She and Cissy were discussing important and crucial things pertaining to Redroko. You visited it lately? You should. Exciting things are happening over there. 

Miss Belle. Lovely dress from mama's recent trip to China. Prepping for her role as big sister and working on her ABCs. Smart little cookie, that one. 

Cute too. 

Who dat? 

Uncle Rus in one of his many moments of glory at the Sunday dinner table. 

Mattie--I think this is a particularly good shot of him. Great smile. I think we were talking about our trip to the cabin at the time and that always makes everybody smile. 

Little Mr. A. He was sick, sick, sick. Seemed to hit him after they showed up. He wasn't his usual rambunctious self and just wanted to sit in mama's lap and cuddle. 

Aunt Diana. The yellow paper in her hands was for notes we were writing to her missionary daughter, Lauren. Lauren, we hope you feel our love out there. 

So after five weeks and one day, the camera has returned to its rightful place inside my purse. You can bet I'll be even more diligent about its location from here on out. At least I'm not particularly interested in crying in front of the kidkins any time soon. It scared them. 

Working the Work

Today was one of those days. I woke up with a knot in my stomach and wished the day was over before it began. I had a big project at work with a roaring deadline that was going to be tedious and difficult with undetermined parameters of misery to inflict on me.

I wished the whole drive to work that I had pushed myself out the door an hour earlier, if only for the fact that I could be an hour closer to the end of this awful project. The last several days have been a string of headaches, issues and decisions between school and work. You know, one of those weeks.

I had three bags of things to carry in to my office, so I parked in fifteen-minute parking, carried in my load and then immediately got absorbed in the big project and promptly forgot my car. Only to remember two hours and one parking ticket later. For which I used up my entire storehouse of faux swear words: Dang it! Oh, my heck! I can't freakin' believe this! Shoot!

Yes, one of those days.

What do you do but plunge in and face it, right? Or at least that is what I kept telling myself. My modus operandi in the past has been to curl up in the fetal position and scream "I won't do it! I won't do it! I won't do this day! I don't want this headache!" which often leads only to me having to deal with the headache the next day or the next or the next. Eventually it bites. And the bite only gets bigger. And bigger. AND BIGGER.

I've had enough of those bites, thank you very much.

So, now I bite back. In smallish ways like with lots of exclamation-point-filled emails to coworkers and even more moaning and groaning in private in my office. I'm not quite past the temper tantrum stage even if I don't lay myself out on the ground and wail away with my fists pounding the floor.   

Work, I'm just beginning to realize, is often untidy, undefined and unending. Work takes work. I've never been much of a "put your shoulder to the wheel" kind of gal. I've been more of the "let me ride in the wagon" type. I've been thoroughly convinced since I was a child that if reincarnation exists then I was a pharoah's daughter in a previous life because I'm all about lounging around all day in a pretty room with someone fanning me nonstop and someone else feeding me grapes.

It's an attitude I've only recently realized may not serve me well. At least when it comes to days like this one. This kind of day doesn't respond well to calls for bigger fans and more grapes. This day doesn't like it at all. It barks back "Grow up. Get your own fan! Get your own grapevine!" to which I have no response because I don't know how to grow a potted plant let alone my own grapevine. See, more work.

This kind of day teaches me though that work doesn't just go away because I want it to depart. It plants itself firmly in my gut and digs itself deeply into my psyche and refuses to leave until I get down and dirty and make decisions, define parameters, and delegate when necessary. And often I have to do so with an imperfect set of data in front of me. In other words, I'm going to make bad decisions simply because all the facts are not in front of me. I'm going to screw up. I'm going to regret some of my choices. But thems is just the breaks, folks. Thems is the breaks. 

Could someone please tattoo that on my forehead, so I'll remember? Mostly, I try to forget it. Like right now, when I have this awful itch to call for grapes and a fan. And someone else to do all the heavy lifting in my life.  

The One Dad Called Sugar

Today is her birthday. I hope it is a good day for her full of lots of love and lots of happiness. Here she is on her 6th birthday with her new Cabbage Patch doll planted firmly under her arm. And don't you love her pink nightgown?

Meg was my first sister. She showed up when I was five years old. I woke up one cold, snowy Sunday morning to find Grandmother in the living room with my four brothers. She told me that Mom had gone to the hospital to have her baby and Dad went with her. I was hoping they would come back with a baby sister for me.

We had early church that day so we got dressed and Ric did my hair. He made a valiant attempt--he was 10 years old and had never wielded a brush to do a little girl's hair before--and I at least went to church with my hair combed. I had never gone out the door without a ribbon, a bow, a ponytail or curls and this new look of my hair parted in the middle and brushed straight down was new and a bit bothersome. I was mostly afraid that it made me ugly.

Granddad took us to church and afterwards we went to home with him where we met up with Dad. Dad told us we had a new sibling but didn't want to tell us if the baby was a boy or girl until Mom was on the phone and could tell us herself. So, we crowded into the breakfast room at Grandmother's house and Dad called Mom at the hospital. After he reached her, he had to prolong the suspense a bit more by asking each one of us: "Do you want a boy or a girl?" Ric (10) said a girl, Rus (8) said a girl, Adam (6) said a girl too, and, of course, I shouted that I wanted a girl. Even Matt, who was 3 1/2 years old said he wanted a girl too. Once we cast our votes, Dad said "It's a girl!" and we started jumping up and down and yelling with excitement. A girl! A baby sister! A little wee one who wears pink! We had the baby girl we all wanted to join our family.

That is most of us wanted. Matt didn't join our excitement. He didn't jump up and down or shout his joy. He just stood there silently. When Dad asked him what was wrong, he said, "Shucks, I wanted a boy." Turns out little Matt assumed that babies came equipped with motor skills like he had and Matt had to do one daily job with his motor skills: feed the dog. Matt was hunting a replacement and figured a boy would fit the bill perfectly.

Meg has since won him over to her side.

She tends to do that with people. Win them over to her side. She does it quietly and with a smile but she does it.

She certainly won me over from that day in Grandmother's breakfast room when I first heard I had a sister. I couldn't have asked for a better one.

Lots of love today, Blondie, Jamie Jr., Princess and Sugar. You deserve every last drop of it.

What's for Dinner Now?

I'm doing an allergy-elimination diet for the next two months on my doctor's recommendation. I got tested for some food allergies/intolerances and it came up with a long and lovely list of potential baddies that I get to now abstain from for the next several weeks. The doc said to try it for two to six months but I say let's begin at the beginning and see where I land after eight or nine weeks.

That list of baddies includes: wheat, oats, soy, corn, peanuts, cane sugar, beet sugar, high-fructose corn syrup, MSG, preservatives and all dairy--you know, milk, cheese,  yogurt and the like.  

My response to all the good news? 

Is water the only thing left? 

I've done deprivation before and deprivation and I, well, we don't tango. I cry "uncle" when the going gets tough. I just don't like the restrictions. You even mention the word diet around here and I plunge myself head first into a vat of milk chocolate and swim for my life. 

So, here am I. Holding myself back from the edge of chocolate nirvana and attempting to eliminate all these foods for a few weeks. 

At the end of two months, I get to pick one eliminated food item and add it back into my diet for a day and then I get to wait three more days to see if I have any negative reactions to it. If not, then the food is considered okay. If I do have a reaction to it, then that food stays on the baddie list. Then I repeat that cycle for each food item. 

So, excuse me if I moan and whine and kick the floor a bit as I do this thing for the next few weeks. It's really not so bad, right? I get to eat as many veggies as I want. I get to eat almost every fruit on the planet. And chicken, fish, turkey and steak are all just fine. It's really just anything that comes in a box, bag, package, wrapper, container, can, bottle or drive-thru window that I need to stay away from. Which is really what I should be doing anyway. 

So good bye for now pb&j sandwiches, popcorn, tortillas, cheese, yogurt, chips, candy, dessert, bread, pasta, crackers, soymilk and oatmeal. Parting is such sweet sorrow. May it be but a short separation. Or if not, may I take it with good grace and a smile. 

Or if not, can I least figure out what to make for dinner and may it be goooooood. 

RECIPE: Spinach Turkey Burger

I promised to share my favorite spinach turkey burger recipe a while ago. I made it again the other day and realized I had not yet shared it. I love this recipe for a few reasons: (1) I can eat a burger and feel like it was healthy (2) I looooooove the combination of the spinach with red onion and garlic, (3) I get a great serving of greens and its not a salad.

Really, I'm much more of the type to go out and buy a bacon double cheeseburger. So, I was shocked to find this recipe hit the "burger button" spot in a big way for me without a problem.

This is a simple, easy, hearty, healthy recipe. When I discovered it a couple of months ago it was an immediate hit. Often I'm underwhelmed by a recipe or overwhelmed by the intricacies of the instructions, but this recipe is straightforward and simple. I love those kind of recipes.

Typically, I find myself at the grocery store stocking up for the week and unless I have my menus for the week mapped out I will return home having forgotten one essential ingredient for some recipe. This recipe is so easy though, I doubt I will forget anything.

My version is a variation on this recipe from SparksPeople.com. Mostly, I cut the feta cheese and replaced the frozen spinach with fresh spinach. I think the fresh spinach is much yummier.

Spinach Turkey Burger

• 2 teaspoons grapeseed oil, 1 turn of the pan
• 2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus some for drizzling
• 1 clove of garlic, crushed
• 1 red onion, chopped
• 1 box or bag, 5 ounces, fresh spinach
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano, lightly crushed in the palm
• 8-10 thin slices mozzarella cheese (I use almond mozzarella)
• 1 1/3 pounds ground turkey breast,
• 1 tablespoon grill seasoning (recommended: Montreal Salt-Free Steak Seasoning by McCormick)

Heat a large nonstick skillet over medium heat. To one side, add a little grapeseed oil, add the chopped garlic and chopped red onion and cook 5 minutes. Transfer the onions and garlic to a bowl to cool. Return pan to heat. Add grapeseed oil to pan and then add fresh spinach without stems. Cook over medium heat until spinach wilts about 3-5 minutes. Add the spinach to the bowl with cool onions and garlic and season with 1 teaspoon of oregano. Add in ground turkey, grill seasoning and a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil. Mix and form into 8 small to medium patties, 1-inch thick. Raise heat on pan to medium-high. Add patties and cook 6 min on each side. Or you can grill on an indoor grill for 5 minutes. Add mozzarella slices to top of patties and melt them for 1-2 minutes.

Makes 8 small burgers or 4 large burgers.

Note: The original recipe said to cook the onions and garlic in extra-virgin olive oil over medium heat, but extra-virgin olive oil is not made for sauteeing things at high heat, so I use grapeseed oil to sautee the onions, garlic and spinach. Still adds a great flavor but grapeseed oil can withstand the higher temperatures. You could use an olive oil made for high heat temperatures, but you might want to try grapeseed oil and see if you like it too.