Cookie Envy

Madame Cookie Baker 

She's ready to roll.

The dough that is.

I may be experiencing cookie envy. This is not the same thing as Cookie Monster wanting another person's cookie. This involves Christmas baking and could mean the difference between a plate of exquisite macaroons, detailed gingerbread men and perfectly puffed meringues or misshapen Amish church cookies that should be in the shapes of Christmas trees, cows, music notes or hearts, but instead look like the art of Picasso in a variety of blobs with randomly placed chocolate chips.
(See Exhibit A)

Exhibit A

 I like making cookies. (Who am I kidding? I like eating the cookies.) The taste always takes me back to my childhood and my mom making these cookies. I loved the fact that they had to be rolled out and we got to use her cookie cutters in the shapes of a bunny, hen and Scottie dog. She'd add just one chocolate chip per cookie (for the eye) and they were just the best. And I do not remember any blob shaped cookies. Ever. (See Exhibit B for a sampling of the umpteen dozen that my mom and my sister Kim made the other day)

Or the beautifully decorated and perfectly shaped confections my sister Roxanne made.

 (See Exhibit B)

Exhibit B

I think part of the appeal in baking Christmas cookies is the nostalgic feeling it brings. Floured counters, wooden rolling pin, cookie cutters in all variety of shapes (some of which I've never used, like a tooth shaped one. What is that about?? Of course, my blob shaped cookies could be misconstrued as the tooth.)

In the end, I could see a few star shapes here and there. And I had to overlook and overcook at least one batch. We are just calling those "biscotti". Ahem.  I mean, anything tastes better dipped in coffee first thing in the morning, eh?

Love, 

Dianne

Lovin' a Snowy Day

 I was feeling a little sad that the snow over the weekend had all melted by Monday morning. I don't mind snow and, like most folks, snow is especially welcome in December during the Christmas season.

On this gray morning, Ryan and I were both in the living room. He was working on his English and I was practicing my typing, trying to improve my word per minute stat. Then I looked up and saw a fine mist of snowflakes coming straight down. This misting soon turned into full-blown, I'm-in-a-snowglobe kind of a snow. It was the kind of snow that made me want to run outside and play.


So I did.

I found my winter boots from the back of the closet and put them on over my fuzzy red and green striped Christmas socks. Then I decided that snowflake PJ bottoms were 100% appropriate for walking in the snow and grabbed my jacket before donning red gloves, scarf and hat. Not that it was really all that cold outside, but somehow it all just felt right.

I grabbed my camera from the stove and I was off out the door.

 The cows enjoy being outside when it isn't too cold. I think that they secretly make snow angels and put their tongues out to catch the flakes when no one is looking. Don't let them fool you.

 And I walked and I may have put my tongue out to catch a few flakes and then I remembered a 7th grade science fair project on acid rain and I wasn't so sure, but then Ryan joined me and he did the same thing. I thought, "Shucks, we used to eat the snow and the kids would make snow cream like Little Bear did and they all survived."  So, go ahead, catch a few flakes!

Even John Deere green goes well with the snow. And it never hurts to have the old thing around when a snow blower is needed. Maybe not this snowfall, but you just never know!

I walked peacefully to the end of the driveway, got the mail and then back down. Hot cider with chai tea sounds just about right, don't you think?

Happy Snow Day! 

Love, Dianne

...and now FIVE YEARS later...

December 2, 2011
http://vintagedandelion.blogspot.com/2011/12/first-time-for-everything.html

Five years ago I sat at the same place at my kitchen table and thought, "Why not write a blog?" And so I did. I took a screen shot on my new MacBook and vintage Dandelion was born. When I was a high school senior, in one of my classes, they had us write down where we thought we'd be in one year, five years, ten years and so on. I thought since it has been nearly five years to the day that I started blogging, I'd see where I am from where I thought I'd be.


5 years ago....

• Working night shift as an RN in the NICU was what I did for a living. I was starting to feel like I'd be here permanently.
• My hair was curly.
• I liked coffee; on this day it was Pumpkin Spice. 
• Credit card debt hung heavily over my head, on my back...
• I still had five children at home.
• I didn't need to wear glasses all that much.
• I wanted to lose weight, about 10-15 lbs. 

• I wanted to write more, sew more, read more, cook healthier, garden more, and the list could go on...

Today...

• As of today, I'm taking a break from my career, for about a month or so. You know me, I can't not work, but I am ready for part-time or per diem instead of full-time, full-on RN work. 
• I am refocusing on my family, my home, my friends, and my God (not necessarily in that order).
• The curls? I miss them, but I am enjoying some highlights and low-lights and a few more gray hairs.
• I still like love coffee. Today it was flavored "sugar cookie". I've learned how to make my own creme brulee coffee. 
• Credit card debt? As of November 30th, 2016 the credit cards are paid, my school loan is paid. I have learned a lot about budgeting this past year and how to really get those darn things paid off. It's one huge reason I can now take a month off to refocus and then work less hours. Credit card debt can own you if you let it get away from you. I know.
• My baby girl and baby boy are still at home. The others have fully spread their wings and have flown. Adrienne is in Pittsburgh, Amy is in Columbus, and Aaron and Lisa-Anna are in Frostburg. Heather just told me today that she filled out more forms for Rosedale Bible College for next year. Ryan is a teenager. I really shouldn't think of them as babies anymore, but it's a mom thing and they indulge me. 
• Glasses. Spectacles. Bifocals. Pretty much all the time. I've gotten used to them and seriously can't read at all without them. 
• I still want to lose weight. Except now it's more like 20-25 lbs. Losing weight in the past five years has been non-existent. Not that the creme brulee coffee creamer has anything to do with it.
• I still want to do more, like reading, sewing, gardening, cooking, scrapbooking, and writing; being without a hobby has never been my problem, it is figuring out that balance in my life of work and play. I hope this next month, going into the holidays is a chance to breathe more, pause more, enjoy simple things more. 

A Blank Canvas

Being creative in a room is, to put it quite simply, fun. You just have to look at the room as a blank canvas and....GO!!. 

After talking to the room's occupant that is. It is their room after all. 

Years ago, the first bedroom I did was Adrienne's. She was all about the ocean and lighthouses. We had a mix of blues up top and a sand colored bottom half of the wall, separated by a border of lighthouses. We used fish nets for curtain valences and hand-stenciled verses about the ocean all around the top perimeter of the room. Since Adrienne moved out, this has become a stopping place for Amy, who is also semi-out-of-the-house and she's added some of her own flavor to the room and it's now an artsy retreat at the beach. And it's storage for my adult kiddos moving out and on. 

Excuse me while I sigh deeply, happy and sad and nostalgic. 

If you were wondering why Amy isn't in her own room that we did in a variety of teal blue, brown, green, coral and white, then wonder no more. When she left for college and then Thailand, I may have gravitated my sewing, scrapbooking world into that room.....it's still a work in progress. 

Heather's room, I did blog about once upon a time. Purple, Purple, Purple (Say that 3x fast), 

Organizing the organization, So white....then add color!, Color Me Bold, and Pictures from Heather's Room Redo . Enough said. 

I always had good intentions to do a room for Aaron. I really did. We envisioned a Lord of The Rings feel, with Lothlorien trees painted on the walls with a corner reserved for a hint of Mordor. (His idea, not mine. Not a fan of Mordor where I want to be sleeping.) I blinked, I barely blinked and he was moving out and as my artistic ability for trees is somewhat lacking and it would've taken me as long as it took Frodo to vanquish the Dark Lord, it just never materialized into reality.  He and Lisa-Anna have a new (old and awesome!) house now with lots of blank walls as canvas.....

I still can't draw trees though. 

After Aaron moved, Ryan claimed that room as his own. And it's been about 1 1/2 years and I did his room in an adventure, outer space, kind-of-theme. We papier-mached planets and hung them up, I started a compass rose around his light fixture, using my cell phone to accurately depict N-S-E-W. And he picked the colors and definitely wanted chalkboard paint, which we used as his border and on the old chimney that runs through his room. (I still haven't quite figured out the chimney bit.) I just never blogged about his room because it wasn't quite Pinterest worthy enough yet. 

Yesterday though, we tackled his room with a vengeance, purging the mounds of paper, sorting his clothing, and getting ready for school. It still isn't "Pinterest-perfect", but it is Ryan's and it is his version of perfect. I love that my almost-teenager still has his favorite animals and a few toys about. He's not quite ready to send them to the attic (and neither am I). He was happy to find his old hand-held video game and I was glad he didn't find it until after our 8 hour ride in the car for vacation. The beeping, oh the beeping. He is in his almost-man-cave, and cave's weren't meant for Better Homes & Gardens. 





















Here's after we'd started. It was worse, much worse. Boys. Gotta love them. 

He never liked putting clothes away. He probably never will. I'm apologizing to his future wife now.
But, he does do better with open baskets and as long as they are somewhat put away, I'm happy. And yes, those are his "Ida Maust Monkeys" sitting there on the drawer-made shelf.

Ryan really did help. This was at the end of the day when we were finished and I was trying to inspire him to take a few minutes every day and keep it "this way". I'm sure he is paying close attention and his distracted gaze at his hand-held game is all a ruse.

I'll just keep telling myself that.

Here's to all the blank canvases in the world!

Love, Dianne

Once a Mommy, Always a Mommy

I was all set on having a great Saturday. You know, getting out of bed without an annoying alarm telling me I had to, coffee on the porch, pancakes and bacon with Leo, the sunshine, the breeze, and a wide-open schedule.

Then I got some attitude from a pre-teen boy and I realized he is closer to teen than not, and maybe I didn't have to tell him how to pack a suitcase for a week away to spend with my sister and her family. He is going there to help babysit her two boys and he's probably thinking I am babying him and I just need to back off.

BUT I"M THE MOM!!! Can't one of my kids still call me "Mommy"?

I don't know if I'm ready for this.
I am ready for this. Think: quiet mornings and coffee on the porch....
Or not.

Ryan is my baby. Maybe it's always the hardest with the baby of the family. Maybe I'm weird. I love the relationships I have with all of my older ones, like coffee dates with Adrienne, Sunday afternoon lunches and laziness with Aaron and Lisa-Anna, random hugs and spiritual conversations with Amy, Celtic Thunder concerts with Heather....these weren't things we did when they were 12, 11, 7, 5 and 1.  So why am I feeling so keenly some days, this loss of childhood?

(Ummm...ignore the date. It wasn't January.)

Back then, they didn't drink coffee, Sunday afternoons were spent jumping on the trampoline, and you couldn't go to concerts or the theater and experience it in the same way. Deep conversations involved how to make frog legs palatable, how to build a better campfire, why doing dishes builds character and why cleaning your room gives you even more depth (or maybe it was the depth of the piles of laundry that were discussed...I don't remember...it's all such a blur now).

It really does go by in a blur. A blur of burp cloths, Dreft laundry detergent, pink saddle shoes, big t-shirts as bedtime shirts, dress-up clothes in calico, sequins and tulle, tents in the yard, camp-outs in the living room, noisy times around the table, sticky hugs from popsicle-dripped kids,  found scraps of paper with scribbled maps, hay houses, piled-up kids on the bed for a story from the Bedtime Anytime Storybook, Veggie-Tales,  Mother Goose, The Donut Man and Little Bear at midnight with a sick child....it's a blur that is as colorful as a rainbow and just as fleeting.

And now my baby is going to be 13 in September. And he is leaving for a week and I am already missing him. He comes to me every morning for a hug and I like that routine. It should've had his height tattooed on my person, like how you'd put it on your wall; with every passing year, the top of his head gets just a little bit higher and I don't want to forget.

Okay, maybe I am weird. And I don't really like needles. Never mind. It's just all this nostalgia is making my brain mushy. But, it's a good mushy. I like remembering. I like that I have memories that I can pull out every so often and ponder. And I know that today will someday be a memory that I'll treasure too.

But, if any of my kids reads this, it's okay to every once in a while, let a "Mommy" slip out.
Oh, and my Saturday? It turned out to be a really good day, nostalgia and all.

Love,
Dianne

Point A to Point B and "the next"

There is a road that stretches from Point A to Point B and I am on it. (I'll get back to that later.)

Last Friday, I knew where my Point A began (my house) and where it would take me: Point B (Columbus, Ohio). The mission: bringing Amy home after being in Thailand for 6 months.

(Insert large uncontrolled smile, random dancing, confetti, and joyful tears.)

Starting any journey involves preparation. For my family, somehow this inevitably involves food. Grapes, pretzels,Whale crackers, oyster crackers, peach rings, minty gum, apple juice and bottled water were strategically placed in a cooler bag and we were off. This organization lasted about 5.4 minutes into the trip.

Traveling also means potential boredom for a certain 12 year old lad; this too involves preparation. A sketch book and pen, a fully charged cell phone with a farming app, a comfy pillow and a portion of my body to lean against and he is set. Ryan comes by this tendency for boredom honestly. My bag has pens, a journal, a book and my cell phone. I also do my best to avoid that awful feeling of carsickness and I made sure I had ginger candy, motion bands, and a non-drowsy form of anti-motion sickness pills on board.

My parents came along for the ride. Actually they were the ride. Or I should say that their van (aka The White Whale) was the ride. They came prepared for the journey with peanuts, a CD variety (think "Chuckwagon Gang") and a GPS. After plugging 2120 E. 5th Avenue in, we where on our way.













       As our journey began that day, it was also the ending of a journey. Amy's REACH experience in Thailand would be "officially" complete at 5:00 PM, and with a certificate in hand she would say her final goodbyes, her luggage would be loaded into the Whale and we would head East once again.





All this thought about preparation and journey makes me wonder about...The Journey of Life....
(insert dramatic, sweeping, emotion-gripping music). I know, cliche. But, my point is this: doesn't one life experience just lead into the next, and the next, and so on? Even for Amy, were the final goodbyes really final? Sure, it will be different the next time she meets up with them, but it is just part of "the next". And her time with REACH is just leading into the next step in her life. Each experiences adds a layer and texture that make the next part of the journey richer and deeper.

Maybe it is like a book, where one chapter leads to the next. Even death, which rather loudly proclaims, "THE END" is setting us up for the sequel.  And while that all sounds hopeful and promising, I know there is hard stuff along the way. Really hard, ugly, this-isn't-how-I-thought-my-life-would-be kind of stuff. So, what's the point?

Point A to Point B. I'm on that road. I don't always like it and I really want to stop, take a detour, or go back to where I started and try again. But here I am and I just keep putting one foot in front of the other and I am reminded that when it gets really difficult and I keep falling down, that maybe it is because I didn't prepare.

I need nourishment (both literal and spiritual). I need encouragement and sometimes a push. And I need to remember to stop, pause and rest along the way. This kind of journey doesn't happen in a day. I want to enjoy the sights along the way. A day at a time.

And today? I'm going to be thankful for those that gave their lives to protect our country and our freedoms. I'm going to be bask in the blessing of having my Amy home again for a time. I'm going to relish the days Heather and Ryan are still at home and look forward to long weekends when Adrienne comes home to hang out with us. I'm going to keep loving Sunday afternoons when Aaron and Lisa-Anna are here for lunch. I'm going to keep going, one step at a time.

Love,
Dianne


 P.S: Boredom sets in at about 15 minutes into the trip:

P.S. 2 Any guesses as to what this is?

Tarp Legs and Water Bottle Bowling

As we settled into the car to add yet another 165 or so miles to our already mileage-packed day, she reached over and took my hand as I drove.

"Father God, let us find joy in unexpected places. Amen" 

I glanced over at Adrienne and gave her a half-grin which was wholly full of apology. I was letting myself get in the way of what could be an a really good day with my girl. Instead of being thankful that my Saturday had worked itself out and I was able to go with Heather to her dance competition in Johnstown (that was the first 100 mile round trip) and I was able to go car shopping with Adrienne (the next 165 miles) I was feeling wrinkly, rumpled and grumpled (I know, cool word right?) and I'm sure I even looked a little like Rumplestiltskin on Once Upon a Time.

Joy in unexpected places. 

When your cell phone slips from your hand, glances off the sink and sinks slow motion style into the toilet: not joyful. But I am thankful for rice and it did force me to be disconnected for a time which was good. That's how my Friday started and then on Saturday, I tentatively slipped the phone from the rice to see if it was working and I was left with a slow motion style sinking feeling. I need to work on being joyful even when it's not looking so good!

Phoneless, I set out with Adrienne and Heather for Johnstown in the white Subaru because my car was in the garage and Adrienne's car was totaled (black ice) which was why we'd be driving a lot today as we were hoping to find her another car of which I am rather clueless on what is good, bad, a great deal or you've-been-had.  See how I was already setting myself up for stress? And I had really wanted to just catch up on things at home and here I was feeling sorry for myself.

Poor Dianne. Boo-hoo.

Sometimes I just let life get to me and it makes no sense. It really doesn't.

Joy in unexpected places. 

Adrienne and I got to Monroeville and pulled in at the car dealership. We had found a Chevy Cobalt on-line and we get there about 15 minutes before closing. I'm sure they were all thrilled. The salesman "Mike" took us out around the building and we could see the car way back in the corner where it was waiting to be detailed. He tells us to wait while he runs to get the keys. It was soooo windy and cold and as Adrienne and I  huddled together, she suddenly says in a quiet, serious voice, "Mom, I thought he was crawling on the ground."

WHAT?

I turned to look at what she was seeing and across the parking lot, there was a tarp, the same khaki color as Mike's pants, and as the wind would catch it, the tarp would flap and flutter about. Kinda like someone's legs.

The laughter that ensued was breathtaking, tear-inducing and absolutely, ridiculously joyful. Every time we'd think we were done, the wind would make those "legs" jump  and flap about in anatomically impossible ways and we'd just lose it all over again. Somehow we managed to stop when Mike returned with the keys.

But then, after the test drive and we were in the office sitting at his desk, he stands up and the guy's fly was wide open. I looked away and tried to compose my face. I didn't dare look directly at Adrienne or I knew what would happen. I did brave one quick sideways glance at her and she had her hands around her mouth and her eyebrows slightly raised and I knew she knew and she wasn't looking at me either.

Buwahahahahahahahahaha! Hold it in. Hold it in.

Joy in unexpected places.

We didn't get the car that day. Something about an older car, no bank to finance....To be fair, we did walk in 15 minutes before closing time. Find the joy, find the joy. I know, let's go to Sheetz and get food. I don't know what Adrienne was thinking as she ordered her burrito, but somehow a double order of pork got put on it along with rice and beans and a myriad of vegetables. It was like a small child. I nearly needed a forklift to carry it to the car. Oh, did we laugh.

Joy in unexpected places.

We stopped at the store to pick up a few things on our way back through Somerset. We weren't expecting a freak snowstorm. When we came out of the store, it was FREEZING and very windy and we hadn't dressed for winter. Then a case of 24 bottles of water decided to split as Adrienne lifted it from the cart. It was like someone was bowling and hit a strike, knocking 24 pins every which way. There may have been two women in the parking lot causing a scene. I won't mention their names but their laughter was undeniably joyful.

Joy in unexpected places.

Our next stop was the church so I could take the dying daffodils out and replace them with cute little succulents. Somehow, one of the cute little cacti got stuck in the chain of my necklace. There I am, trying to unlock the door, talk on the phone to my son and I am laughing because I have a cactus pendant hanging off of me.

You know what? God answered the prayer. Joy doesn't always have to be profound or have deep meaning. It can be in simple, everyday life and sometimes very unexpected. Who would have thought a khaki tarp, an unzipped fly, a behemoth burrito, water bottle bowling and a dangling cactus could cause such laughter and memories?

Life can be a fun ride when I choose to let it be!

Love,
Dianne

Granting Permission to Fly

Saturday March 19, 2016  2:15 AM

At the cafe! With Amy!!!

Tiredness is seeping in but I don't let it claim me, not yet. I'm trying to stay awake for a little while longer.  Not like "it's night shift and I have to stay awake" but because somewhere in the world it is not 2:15 AM, but 1:15 PM and there are sisters enjoying iced coffee together in a cafe in Bangkok, Thailand.

These sisters are separated by 2 years and 4 months. One trends towards being shorter and is brunette with chocolate brown eyes. The other is inches taller with blond hair and blue eyes. They are different but still peas in a pod.

A sister relationship is simple and complex. They can be completely irritated at each other one minute and the next they are borrowing each other's clothes again. They can be best friends or they can just barely tolerate each other. Sisters. Simple. Complex.


These two girls of mine have been buddies pretty much since Day 1 after Heather was born. Not that they didn't have typical moments of misunderstanding and much shouting, but for the most part, they got along. Maybe it was their ages and spacing. Maybe it was their temperaments. I don't know really, but I am thankful that they get along with each other so well and aren't just sisters, but friends.

Call me crazy, but it was this relationship that gave me the push to let Heather fly to Thailand to visit Amy who has been there since December and won't return home until later in May. Heather has never flown. Ever. And I am not exactly a world traveler comfortable with all things international. She was going to fly with another couple that we knew and when plans changed last minute, I was in a quandary. Do we let Heather go across the world alone? Or do we break her heart which had much anticipated this journey, not just to see another city in another country, but to see her much-loved, much-missed sister?

At first, I was leaning towards breaking her heart. I mean, she had NEVER flown. I couldn't even remember if she'd ever seen an airport (except in movies). Then God stepped in when I kinda wasn't expecting it and He gave me such a peace about her going ahead with the plan, even if the plan was altered, and I know this peace was from Him because it really did bypass all logical understanding and reasoning. At least, my kind of understanding and reasoning.

God sent Mr. Lais to us that evening and he coached Heather (and us) through airport procedure and then he prayed with us. And the peace grew in my heart. She'd be okay. We could do this. She could do this.

Thursday March 17, 7:20 AM: Heading to the airport. 

Same day at about 7:10 AM: yes, she looks extremely nervous. And she missed the sunrise. 

Still Thursday...9:43 AM: Still, not very nervous as we enter the airport. Except for the moment of her parents freaking out in the parking garage because we didn't know if it was the right parking garage and if we were even in the right place. Even then, it was her parents freaking, not her. 

Thursday morning continues....9:57 AM. Calm, cool, classy. That's my girl.  

Me? Not so much. But I tried. And cried. Just a little. After she left. But that's cool. 

11:51 AM: They just called to start boarding her flight. This was the only time I thought she looked even a little nervous. I'm just glad I didn't break out in an echoing nervous peal of laughter. I've been known to do that. She was glad too. 

11:53 AM: Can you see her? In the middle of the line? Still looking fine! We were even on time! 

(If you know me, you know how impressive that last part is.) 

12:03 PM: And then she boarded the plane and I had no choice but to turn away and head back alone to where Leo was waiting. I was thankful that I had a pass to go with her to the gate; it made it easier when the time came to see her off. Kinda. I still cried. But it wasn't sad tears really. They were a mix of happy and proud and nostalgic and "when did my baby girl grow up" tears. 

Friday March 18 1:26PM my time (and something like Saturday morning 12:30 AM Thailand time): This picture came across my Facebook messages. I cried again. 

I think the happy thing they had going on way back in the summer of 2000 is still going on today. What do you think? And they are still just as cute as ever.

Sunday March 20 5:14 PM: I'm thinking of my girls. I'm missing all of them today; Adrienne up around Pittsburgh, Amy and Heather in Thailand, but I have peace. So very thankful for that today, at this time. Girls, you have been granted permission to fly.

Love,

Dianne