Burdenofglory’s Weblog

For those of you who think I’m saying “goodbye” to blogging until December, think again.  I’m on a blogging vacation, but I just happen to feel like blogging again today.

No, I’m saying “goodbye” to my wacky world of no routine, where no cooking by me has occured since…hmmm….Thursday.  We had delicious chili made by Mrs. J. Friday night, along with Le Quartier bread and chipotle-cranberry cheese.  Oh, mercy.  So it isn’t like we’re not eating.

Marcus called this morning.  I expected him to tell me he was out in the field blasting birds, but no – he had just finished cooking biscuits and gravy for the hunters, including Pastor T. (not to be confused with Mr. T), and needed to do the dishes.  Ha hee ha hee.  That is just about too much for me.  I may have a silly grin plastered on my face all day.  Hopefully Rebecca’s volleyball coach doesn’t think I’m nuts tonight.  Or somethin’.

When the master comes home, routine must reign.  Regular meals, big meals, to feed a big, hungry man on his feet all day.  And could I still eat gouda, BBQ chicken, and apples, you ask?  No!   If I got to choose what I got to eat, then everyone would get to choose.  Rebecca would alternately eat grilled cheese and pizza for every meal, even breakfast.  Maddie wouldn’t eat anything with beans or nuts.  And I’m not sure about Kate- she isn’t home near as much anymore and is just thankful for food when she passes through.

Ashley will also be back from fall break tomorrow, and back to work 3 mornings a week.  I’m not really sure what she eats besides the 3 lunches  she shares with us.  So I really like to send her off with a full belly.  She likes food, but doesn’t like to buy it.  She has only went shopping for groceries twice since she moved out, and I’m a bit bewildered about how she is functioning.  But I try to encourage without DINGING HER INCESSANTLY, which could be my way, if unchecked.

As I was savoring my last gouda/BBQ chicken/apple lunch, Rebecca was reveling in the biscuits and gravy she hid in the back of the refrigerator from yesterday.  The biscuits she and Kate had made.  She was afraid the older girls would take it this morning.  Her contentment rivaled my own as she heated up her meal and did a little dance.  Part of her delight was sleeping with Mom for TWO nights, and reading Homer Price last night before bed.  For some reason, the picture of the Super Duper getting shot by a cannon made Rebecca cackle until she cracked a rib.  Maybe.  She laughed so hard I laughed, too.  We were still shaking our heads about it this morning.  “Oh, that Super Duper.”

Farewell.

P.S.  Contrary to the impression you may have gotten, I really don’t mind cooking, I actually like feeding people, and I really miss my husband.

Ever since I decided not to blog until December, I’ve thought of all sorts of clever things (in my own mind) to say.  Like telling you what I am doing tonight, even though it offers no spiritual insight, or any other kind of insight.  Unless my eating habits interest you.

Marcus left for South Dakota this morning, which makes me feel like I have free time.  I’m not sure why it feels this way, as he usually doesn’t require much of my time.  But there are things I do when he is here that I tend to dismiss when he isn’t around.  Like cook.

The kids think this is a free-for-all.  Kate and Becca made a frozen pizza, one of their favorite meals (why do I cook again?).  Then they promptly filled a bowl with Prego, their favorite spaghetti sauce (why do I can spaghetti sauce?).  Finally, they slyly took their gourmet meal to the basement to watch a movie and eat pizza, their favorite activity/meal combo.   They were sly because they know Mom the Enforcer doesn’t really approve of eating in the basement on the “new” carpet.  New is relative, as I think it is 4 or 5 years old already.  I forget.  The point is that since they were so sly, they didn’t turn on the light in the stairway.  I heard a crash, then heard Prego sauce and pizza hit the wall and carpet.  I’m sure if I could have seen it, it would have been in cool slow-motion like The Matrix. Kate told me not to worry.  She would take care of it.  Okay, said I.  No use crying over spilt milk, or pizza and spaghetti sauce, I say.

Oh, yes.  While the girls were heating up, sneaking, spilling, and cleaning up pizza, I was creating a spreadsheet for the teachers’ payroll at our homeschool cooperative.  Nifty.  I haven’t made a real spreadsheet, with formulas and everything,  since I used to work and get paid.  It was kind of fun once I called my mom to figure out why my formulas didn’t work.  I’m glad I have access to a professional who doesn’t charge me consulting fees.  At least she didn’t before she read this.  Right, Mom?

By 8:00, I was finished and decided to wander into the kitchen.  I wasn’t really hungry, but decided to look in the refrigerator.  What I saw made my heart go pitter-patter.

Gouda cheese, shaved BBQ chicken from Sam’s, and fresh Gala apples.  Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.  If I didn’t have to cook bigger meals to sustain Marcus’ frame, I would eat this A LOT.  My gouda cheese slices are sliced quite thick, and look like apples, but if you look really close, it is yummy, perfect gouda.  I don’t usually keep gouda around, as it is a bit pricey.  But I love a BBQ chicken pizza recipe in the new Zion cookbook, which calls for gouda cheese.  Ashley really loves it, too.  So maybe I thought I could entice Ashley for supper if she knew I was making this spectacular gouda/BBQ chicken pizza.  Most of her dinner dates seem to be filled, however, so I must eat the gouda alone.

After my scrumptious dinner, I found the hidden oreos I had put in the back of the pantry after my snack this afternoon.  I’m a dipper, and must make them soggy with milk before consumption.  Don’t worry.  The orange is only their festive Halloween color, and doesn’t affect the taste.  The creme still tastes like Crisco and powdered sugar.  I determined this by eating many, many middles when I made cheesecake.  The crust for my Chocolate Truffle Cheesecake calls for Oreo crumbs, but no middles.  I must eat them all.

Ooops.  Looks like my snack this afternoon was a bit excessive.  Or maybe someone else found my hiding place.  I’m not telling.

For lack of inspiration, I’ve decided to take some time off from here.  Life is full, and I find myself writing on scraps of paper again, but for different audiences.  Hopefully, I can develop some of my paper scraps into legitimate paragraphs to publish for y’all.

The December Photo Project is coming quicker than we think.  I’ll be back then.

Here are some pictures to tide you over.

Warning:

I’m pressing through writer’s block, and have absolutely nothing worthwhile to say.  But I’m leaving Friday, so I thought I should leave you with something. How about an interview?

Interviewer (IV, or Ivey):  Why haven’t you blogged about anything compelling or interesting for a very long time?

Burdenofglory (Bog):  I’ve been thinking a lot, but not anything I feel like writing about.  I’ve also been thinking about ME a lot, which isn’t my favorite topic to write about.

Ivey: What is happening in the gardening department?

Bog:  Since squash bugs annihilate every vining plant on the premises, I decided to plant Yukon Gold potatoes this year, and not give those nasty critters any fodder.  The potato plants are 3 feet tall, and I found some pretty tasty morsels under them the other night to eat with roasted chicken and gravy.

Ivey:  Those look tasty, minus the dirt.

Bog:  Yes.  After washing them, they slid down like buttah.  An irrelevant sidenote is that the skins were so tender, I scrubbed them off with the dirt when I washed them.

Ivey:  Have you grown potatoes before?

Bog:  Yes.  When I was pregnant with Maddie, I planted them.  I remember digging all the potatoes up when I was horribly nauseous, crawling on my hands and knees in the dirt.  Maybe that is why it has taken almost 14 years for me to plant them again.

Ivey:  Oh, my.  Perhaps another topic?

Bog:  Certainly.

Ivey:  Ashley finally finished her quarter at SCC.  What is she doing with her time off?

Bog:  Working for Marcus.  They left at 7:00 am to install a kitchen yesterday.  She could already be thinking school wasn’t really that bad.  But probably not.

Ivey:  All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

Bog:  She did have a cookie baking/nail polishing/dancing/Jane Austen movie extravaganza here the other night.  Even with her work schedule, she manages to find a bit of time to socialize.

Ivey:  I’ve heard rumors that Ashley actually received 2 speeding tickets under 24 hours yesterday.  Is there any truth in these rumors?  Or are they malicious lies?

Bog:  Hmmm.  I’m not sure I’m at liberty to disclose that information.

Ivey:  I believe it is time to change the topic again.

Bog:  Very observant.

Ivey:  Reading any good books?

Bog:  Oh, yes.  I finished What Every Church Member Should Know About Poverty by Bill Ehlig and Ruby K. Payne, Ph.D.  I agree with the title:  we all should be reading this.  Sample kinds of questions from Chapter 11 really struck me:

1. How many one-on-one relationships were established with individuals from poverty?
2. How many new faces were in your congregations in the past year?
3. How many individuals were helped with the transition from poverty to work?
4. What is the congregation’s long-range plan for working with the poor?
5. What specific interventions were made in educating mothers in poverty?

God keeps teaching me more and more through reading and actually doing at the same time.  Ten years ago this book would have been interesting; now it explains so much about the behaviors and worldviews of the girls I help minister to.  This book may have finally convinced me I need to go to the Christian Community Development Association’s conference this fall.  I actually told people I’d go with them; I can’t back out now.

I’m also reading a compilation of short stories by F. Scott Fitzgerald.  I never was a fan of the short story, but I am of these.  It is fun to read many of them and see patterns and similar characteristics in the main characters.

I’m taking a stack of books on vacation; we’ll see how many I actually consume.

Ivey:  Vacation?

Bog:  Yes.  We’re going to Fort Robinson, then off to the Black Hills next week.

Ivey:  Anything else you’d like to share before we close?

Bog:  Since you asked, I consider my hydrangea bushes absolutely breathtaking.  I’ve tried growing them before, but they are rather fickle, thumbing their noses at my clay soil and lack of abundant water.  However, I’ve made many promises to these bushes.  Water, mulch, and fertilizer in abundance.  Hopefully they survive.

God’s handiwork constantly amazes me, and the field by our house is the current wonder.  I finally braved the chiggers this evening to have a closer look:

Whoops.  How did that get in there?  There has been much ado about a popular blogger’s husband’s forearms.  Honey, we ain’t too shabby in the forearm department around here, either.  That’s all I have to say about that.

Ivey:  Thank you for your time.

Bog:  No problem.  The pleasure was all mine.

I have been way too serious lately, and am finally giving in to the temptation to share my chuckle with everyone else, at someone else’s expense, of course.  Enough commas for you?

I deposited a check this week from Kay Mart.  I smiled.  I put the check on my desk and smiled some more.  Then I just deposited it with the rest of the plain-named checks, to be remembered no more.  Until I put her name in Quickbooks today.  At least I waited until today.  That doesn’t make it as bad that I told everyone, right?

For years we have had a loyal customer named Merlin Butt.  Thankfully for him, his last name is pronounced “boot.”

Katherine, Haley, and I were discussing who Haley would marry someday, and if the first name would go with the last name.  You know, 15-year-old stuff.  I voted she marry one of the Dalys, then she would be Haley Daly.  Love.  It.

When my sister-in-law, Naomi, got married, I wrote a song for her that we sang at her wedding reception.    She married a Reed.  She was a music major.  We sang it to the Hee-Haw song, “Where, where, are you tonight?”

On down the road they will start having children

Claire Annette Reed will be their firstborn.

She’ll be a beauty with blond hair and blue eyes

Will she play the piano, trombone or french horn?

Here is the first girl in the Reed family:  Claire Ann.  They just couldn’t do it.  I call her Claire Annette anyway.  Her mom said they might have to change it.

P.S.  If Claire Annette isn’t funny to you, here it is:  Clarinet, which is a REED instrument.  Ha.  Ha.  Get it?

The next time you go to Buzzard Billy’s with your free birthday meal coupon, watch out where they seat you.

Marcus’ 6′10” nephew, Josiah, plays basketball for UNK.  He makes Marcus look rather shrimpie, doesn’t he?

Remember Bert from Sesame Street “Doin’ the Pigeon” ?  I can still sing it:

Doin’ pigeon

Doin’ pigeon

Doin’ pigeon everyday.

I can’t say I could really relate to the song until I saw this pigeon feasting at my in-law’s bird feeder:

Why do I remember this song when I can’t remember a scripture I read last week?  Maybe I need to memorize scripture to Sesame Street songs.