The Tree House

When the kids were little and I was looking for a house, I knew our current home was the house for us the moment I walked inside. The century-old, thick, oak moldings were jaw-dropping gorgeous.

The beauty of the house aside, it was perfect. It was in the same school district (I didn't want the kids to have to switch schools). It had four bedrooms, so no one would have to share. It had a large, shady backyard with a privacy fence so that I could let them play outside and not worry about them wandering off. And, best of all, it had a tree house built around a gigantic pine tree ... or pine cone tree, according to the kids! Built off of the tree house were two swings, a trapeze bar, and a climbing rope with a bell at the top ... and of course, a basketball hoop.

Every time I look at the tree house from the dining room or kitchen windows at the back of the house, I can see my kids playing on it in my mind's eye.

I can see my son and several of the neighborhood boys climbing on the nylon ladder stretching between the branches of the split trunk.

I can see my oldest daughter sitting in the tree house, leaning against the trunk, reading on a lazy summer afternoon.

I can see my middle daughter with her dolls, sitting at the play table up there, and feeding them meal after meal of the delicious plastic food she is so famous for.

I can see all of the kids swinging and singing at the top of their lungs. I can see them climbing one of the two ropes that hang from the treehouse or climbing the rope on the swing set and ringing the small bell attached at the top. I can see them playing basketball at the goal attached to the end of the swing set. I can see them playing basketball, giggling with delight when they made one.

I can still hear their giggles and see the carefree smiles on their innocent little faces when they came in for a drink or a snack, flushed and tan from playing outside all summer long. I can see them jumping in piles of leaves in the fall, and making snow angels and snowmen in the winter. I can see them helping me plant flowers in the spring ... wait ... where did the kids go? I guess I should change that to ... I can imagine them helping me plant flowers in the spring! Actually, they did help (some) when they were little ... not so much when they were teens.

I don't need a house this big anymore, but every time I mention selling the house, the kids have a meltdown. They've spent their entire lives playing in that tree house, dreaming of how much fun their own kids would have out there someday. This house was a wonderful place for my children to grow up ... from the shady backyard oasis to the creaky swing on the wide front porch . If I do sell the house and move someday, it will be really hard to say good-bye to the tree house that dominates the view from my back windows.

I think I just might love that tree house as much as my kids do :)

A "Paper People" Feast

Several years ago I made miniature foods and sold them to miniature stores and at craft fairs (click on images to enlarge). I really enjoyed it, and as a bonus, I made pretty decent money doing it! My middle daughter wanted to play with some of the display pieces but she didn't have the right size dolls ... so she drew some "paper people". Aren't they cute?! 

My mother thought of the name for this venture ... "Petite Cuisine" ... and I thought it was terribly clever! My slogan was "Miniature foods so realistic you can almost smell them." I'd love to make these miniatures again, but my writing time would suffer ... and given the choice ... I'd rather write.

My First Love

This is the old Central Library in my hometown, built in 1931. This was my mother's favorite branch, and the one we frequented the most when I was a child. It wasn't just my mom's favorite ... it was my favorite, too. It was old and solid and ornate ... and I loved the sound of my shoes clicking on the marble floors. My heart would swell to bursting just walking through the door.

When I had children of my own, we'd frequent our neighborhood branch, but we spent the most time at Central. In the picture below, you can see the steps that lead down, outside of the building ... that stairway leads directly to the Children's Room. I wonder how many times my little legs went up and down those steps! When my kids were old enough, we'd ride our bikes downtown, passing our neighborhood library, specifically to go to this one. I loved this library!

They began construction on a new Central branch around 2003. My middle daughter broke her foot during this time. Normally I wouldn't remember something like that, but it was then that I discovered just how badly a new library was needed ... there was no elevator to the Children's Room in the basement at the Central branch. Since she had just broken her foot, she wasn't very confident on crutches, and was terrified of going up and down steps on them. We have stairs at our home, and she would navigate them by scooting down on her bottom, but I wasn't comfortable with her doing that on a public staircase, so I had to carry her down. The Children's Room at this particular branch would be inaccessible to a child in a wheelchair.

The elevator/stairs wasn't the only reason a new library was needed. Central had far too many books to fit on their shelves, far too many by the tens of thousands! They had a stack system that extended from the top of the building to deep in the bowels of the library, accessible only to employees. If you wanted a book from the stacks, they would have to retrieve the book(s) for you. It was inefficient, and not being able to peruse the books caused a lot of good books to go unread. Even though I saw the need for a new library, I hated the thought of not being able to come into this building again. Central Library was where my love of books was formed, and it's where I began dreaming of being a writer.

With much trepidation, I took the kids to the new library when it was completed in 2004. From the outside it looked so modern. I envisioned a sleek, barren, cold interior, the polar opposite of the warm, inviting feeling of the old one ... and I was quite surprised! It wasn't filled with metal and glass ... the floors were marble, and my shoes clicked and echoed in the silence. The bookshelves were made of thick, sturdy wood, and the walls were paneled with the same rich wood. It looked like a library is supposed to look, as opposed to the New York art-gallery-look I had feared.

The old Central Library was quickly sold and is now a children's museum. Since my children are no longer young, I have never gone, but I'm sure I'll go with my grandchildren one day ... when I have grandchildren, that is! And then, once again, I hope to hear my shoes clicking on the marble floors of that grand, old building so dear to my heart.

Sheep Cookies

A few years ago I was asked if I would be willing to make sheep cookies for a baby shower. Despite the fact that I had never decorated a cookie (or cake) in my life, I quickly agreed.

I rolled out the dough and cut out the cookies and baked them. To my dismay, they came out looking more like buffalo than sheep. I played around with decorating them, and finally hit on a design that would turn the herd of buffalo encompassing every flat surface in the kitchen back into sheep!

It took several night of piping "fleece" ... dot by dot by dot by dot ... onto the naked herd, but I did it.  After making seven dozen of these guys, my neck and arms were killing me ... but they turned out so cute it was worth it.

I packaged them up in individual cellophane bags and tied them with pretty bows. Aren't they cute?!!

Raccoons Are Driving Me Crazy!

Last night I was in my office last night upstairs and heard something scratching above me. I froze. My heart was pounding and I felt like crying.

"Not again!" I thought, fighting back tears.

I looked out the back window at the part of the roof I could see ... and saw nothing. I went back inside and started working again, and heard the scratches. I touched various walls to see if I could feel a vibration. Nothing. When I heard the scratching again, I got up, put on my coat and boots, grabbed a flashlight and headed outside. Once again, nothing.

I kept hearing the scratching, but I couldn't tell exactly where it was coming from. I stood perfectly still touching one wall or another to see if I could feel a vibration. Again, nothing. At one point, I was standing on my desk with my hand on the ceiling, for a really long time, waiting for the scratching.

I got dressed again and went out into the backyard, looking in all the nooks and crannies of the roof line to try to spot the culprit. Again, nothing.

My middle daughter came home. She was in her room next to my office when I heard the scratching.

"Did you hear that?" I asked.

"No."

For the next forty-five minutes or so, I would hear the scratching, ask her if she heard it, and she always said no. Finally I told her to come into my office ... where we sat perfectly still waiting for the scratching. After what seemed like an eternity ... and while she was undoubtedly texting my oldest daughter that their mother had finally lost her mind ... I heard scratching.

"You heard that, right?" I pleaded, hoping she had ... that I wasn't delusional.

"Yeah. Is that what you'v been hearing?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered. I wasn't crazy! My daughter heard the scratches, too!

We touched the walls, the ceiling, and looked out the windows. It took a while, but we finally figured out it was a branch from the pine tree outside the window, rubbing against the roof and the house.

I'm exhausted today. I stayed up until 2:00 in the morning because of those stupid (non-existent) raccoons. When I'm an old woman and you pass me on the street, and I'm mumbling to myself, fidgeting nervously, and looking around with wide, frightened eyes ... it's a pretty good bet that the raccoons had something to do with it!!

This Is So Funny!!

I stop short of saying this is the funniest video ever, because people always say that ... and it seldom is ... but this one really is! Sometimes, when I'm in the middle of something intense and need a break, I pull this up and watch it again and it makes me laugh. Every. Single. Time! (I've been known to quote it as well!) This guy's voice and the accompanying music is perfect!!

The Key To Longevity

The key to longevity, according to one particular panel of experts, depends on whether you are a man or a woman. Sleep is crucial for men, while women need plenty of vitamin B6 and vegetables.

I hate to sound like a spoiled child, but that's not fair! Men already get to pee standing up and make more money! Why do they get to sleep while we have to eat vegetables? (I have a sneaky suspicion that there were no women helping to conduct this study!!)

Don't get me wrong ... I love vegetables. I can eat double my weight in almost any vegetable. I adore garlic roasted asparagus, green beans with bacon and onion, and broccoli with butter and seasoned salt. When I make a roast with carrots and potatoes, I use three times the amount of carrots and I eat them all! I salivate at the mere thought of a spinach salad from one particular local restaurant, and more than once, I've ordered nothing but broccoli when eating at a steakhouse we frequent. I love peas, and there is a broccoli/cauliflower salad that I would do most anything for. I even add celery and carrots to my chicken and dumplings, when I am not required to do so!

But I think I like sleep even more.

In all fairness, I do get to sit and "rest" while I pee. I guess you can't judge a man until you walked a mile in his shoes, had to stand in those shoes while peeing, and all while lugging around a heavy wallet.

I guess it's a good thing I don't live with my boyfriend ... I'd probably ruin the sleep so necessary to his longevity with the loud crunching of all the vegetables I have to eat!

I Found The Pics Of The Cake

Here is the picture of the other cake I made. I couldn't locate a picture of it when I posted my previous blog about Cake.

This was for my oldest daughter's birthday. Food Network won't be knocking on my door offering me a show, but that's okay ... that was never my goal! My goal was to see my daughter smile with delight ... and she did ... so mission accomplished!

Well, It's Official

Phil saw his shadow and predicts six more weeks of winter. I expected as much, but I am sure disappointed.

Pardon my language, but ... POOP!

I guess it's a good thing I didn't get my summer clothes out or gas up the lawnmower!

Please, Phil ...

Photo courtesy of Breitbart.com

Please don't see your shadow tomorrow!!

Tomorrow is Groundhog day, when Puxatony Phil predicts if we will have six more weeks of winter or an early spring. If he see's his shadow, it's six more weeks of winter. I'm really hoping that critter doesn't see his shadow. I am so ready for spring!

I know I shouldn't complain ... we haven't had the several feet of snow and the unrelenting bitter cold that has gripped the north for months, and we were spared the ice that clobbered the deep south earlier this week ... but gosh, it's been a colder than normal winter, and I'm tired of wearing a coat.

I'm ready for spring. I'm ready to get out and plant flowers, take walks, go swimming, and ride my bike. I want to ride in my sweetie's convertible and go on picnics. I want to sit outside in the evening in shorts and stare into the starry sky. I want to sit on the porch swing, late at night, listening to the crickets and frogs. I want to smell freshly cut grass and see little kids running around outside barefoot.

I'll get to do all of those things even if Phil sees his shadow ... but I'll get to do them six weeks sooner if he doesn't! I hope I'm wrong, but I have a sinking feeling he will see his shadow this year. I fear winter isn't through tormenting us just yet.