He is Risen

When I was growing up, the Catholic view of children was that they were just miniature adults. There's catechism class, not Sunday school, there's a cry room, not a nursery, there's Mass every Sunday, not vacation bible school. There was nothing really for kids. So when I was around 13 or 14 years old, I was intrigued by an invitation to attend a church camp hosted by a local Baptist church. I know. Catholics and Baptists. Oil and water. Anointing oils and big dunking booths of water. But how bad could it be? We both shared basic beliefs. Right?

Everything went smoothly enough. So smooth that I actually only remember one thing about that week. The Holy Eucharist. As Catholics, we believe that the wafer we take during communion is the body of Christ. Not a symbol, but the body of Christ. So imagine my surprise when their communion consisted of a Pillsbury biscuit and grape juice. I went ahead and swallowed it down. Just like I did at breakfast. Don't get me wrong, having been an English major I'm all about symbolism, but really, canned biscuits?

So I finished out the week with no outbursts. Then came back home to the familiarity and comfort of candles, chalices, rosary beads, and statues of the Virgin Mary. Then I promptly said three Hail Marys for having negative thoughts about Baptists. Amen.

Say What?

One day while at the computer making out with photoshop--my latest fling--I was, consequently, ignoring the cries of my children. I can get lost in photoshop's eyes for hours. Magnificent, glorious, pixel enhanced eyes. And really, how can I think about changing diapers or preparing dinner when I'm trying to choose between the burn tool or the soft omni lighting effect? Finally, after the millionth "Mommy! Come here!" I hollered back, "Can you please just hold your horses?" That bought me about 5 seconds of silence then big pup said, "What horses? Do I have horses? Where's my horses?" I walked right into that one, didn't I?

I dropped little pup off at my parent's house one day and said "See you later, alligator!" He gave me a big smile, waved back, and said "Have a good day, Crocodile!" Close enough.

I decided to try out another saying on big pup the other day.
Me: "Hey, I have something to tell you."
Big pup: "What?"
Me: "A rolling stone gathers no moss."
Big pup: ::gasp:: "No moss?!"
Me: "What do you think about that?"
Big pup: "Well, I think it's stinky.....like butts!"

Peanut Butter Sauce

Anyone looking for a good peanut butter sauce to serve over chicken? I was. Until I came across this one from the lid of a Smucker's peanut butter jar. I had to make a couple of changes to suit our tastes and now it's WD's favorite dish.


1/3 cup natural peanut butter
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons water
1 teaspoon garlic powder
red pepper flakes (I use one of the packets that Pizza Hut gives you when you order takeout--I think it's about 1/2 tsp)


Mix it all up until it's nice and creamy then pop it in the microwave for 30 seconds. WD eats it like gravy. It's that good. The original recipe calls for 1/3 cup of water. Way too runny, but you could certainly add more than the 2 TBS I use to make it thinner. The original recipe also calls for 1 tsp of sugar but given my affair with Dr. Agatston I decided to omit it and it still tastes great. Try it!

Dover

The Monster Mile. Dover, Delaware. Who thought Matt Kenseth was going to win this? I did. So I took a nap. When I woke up, he was out with a blown engine, Denny Hamlin and Kyle Petty had a spat, Tony Raines gave Robby Gordon a taste of his own medicine and Elliott Sadler still wasn't doing any better. I was actually glad to see that pile up towards the end of the race. It shook things up a bit and helped Elliott move up and finish 17th.

I had a mild panic attack the night before so I didn't get much sleep. Hence the reason for the nap during the race. My notes were sparse and I had no commercial reviews. Just wasn't into this race.

Carl Edwards takes the win (but fails the post race inspection) while A.J. Allmendinger gets the Red Lantern. Next race is next Sunday in Kansas.

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

We've all experienced devastating moments in our lives. Whether it's someone breaking our heart, not getting accepted for a job or into a certain college, or suffering the loss of a loved one. Been there. Done all of that.

I can remember riding in a funeral procession years ago, passing grocery stores and laundromats, wondering how anyone can think of doing laundry at a time like this? But, for them, it was not an "important failure". The world doesn't stop for us when we're having a bad day. Life goes on. Whether we want it to or not.

Musee des Beaux Arts by W.H. Auden

Go Away, I'm Eating

I've had it with all of the creepy crawlies around here.


We finished building our house in February. Since then we've had many different animals visit our backyard: fox, bobcat, wild turkey, deer, rabbit, raccoon (R.I.P.). And for you Dr. Suess fans, yes, I do feel like a big, fat Once-ler sometimes. But spiders and insects? They can go.


One night last week, I had just put the pups to bed, turned on the hall light, and sat down in the living room to recover from the ordeal of Bedtime. Getting a 3 and 5 year old to take a bath, brush their teeth, get into their pajamas, and turn out the lights is usually followed by a recovery period involving a tub of cool whip and some peanut butter. As soon as I sat down I noticed a scorpion crawling down the hall. Creepy and dangerous. I squashed it and flushed it and told WD that as much as I hate grandaddy longleg spiders, I'd rather have them inside than scorpions. Welllllllll, yesterday I came face to.....face(?) with a grandaddy longleg on the shower curtain. Hate. WD was in charge of killing that one. Right now there's 5 of them plus a praying mantis on the front porch, and 2 walking sticks on the back porch. Not to mention a hundred mayflys hovering everywhere. I think I'm surrounded.

The Breakroom Incident

Angie and I used to work at a department store together. She still works there. I don't. Have I mentioned I'm lazy? Anyway, everyday like clockwork we would take a break at 9:30. We would head up to the breakroom, change the channel from Sportscenter to Ned & Stacey, sit at our table, and enjoy our morning snack.


Before I go on, I have to tell you something about being a twin. You don't have to spend your life honing your social skills to make friends because you were automatically born with one. A lot of people mistake this lack of sociability as snobbery. For this reason, we had some enemies. Well, that and switching the channel from ESPN to Ned & Stacey at exactly 9:30 every morning. That didn't help.


Anyway, one morning while enjoying the antics of Thomas Hayden Church and Debra Messing, two guys came into the breakroom and sat at the table next to us. It was no secret, they didn't like us, we didn't like them. Yet, we're adults, we were civil to each other. But one of them made the mistake of making a passive aggressive remark about our television habits. That's when Angie slammed down her goo goo cluster, turned to them and said, "That's right, you go ahead and start something, but I'm gonna finish it!"


Oh, yes. She did. It was an awe-inspiring moment. More so when you realize this is coming from a person who usually comes up with quick-witted responses 2 hours after the fact. Remarkable.