Cookie Bar Monday

I'm just relaxing here while my chocolate chip Oreo cookie bars are in the oven.  Do they sound like heaven?  They most certainly do!  It's yet another recipe I grabbed from Pinterest, and you can find it here - Chocolate Chip Oreo Cookie Bars.  So yummy.  It's a cooler day today, so the heat of the kitchen wasn't too bad.  Right now my house smells like a combination of Oreos and chocolate chips.  So divine!

I love baking.  It allows me to totally get lost in my thoughts and completely relax, which is what I wanted to do this afternoon.  The madness of school returns next week.  As much as I love teaching, I love these lazy days of books, writing (yes, I've tried), and baking.  It's been a good summer, but it's time to go back.

I've been reading, "The Nest," recently, and am more than half-way through the book.  I'll admit I'm a bit tired with it.  Reading about other people's financial woes is, well, disheartening.  This family depended so much upon this inheritance, and now it's stripped away.  Sad.  But it so often happens with families.  The in-fighting.  The stealing.  The lying.  Everyone has a story or has heard one similar, and hence why "The Nest" is probably so popular.  But I'll finish reading it anyway.  I'm one of those people who always finishes a book, even if it completely bothers me.  I just have to.  I must!

I started a short story, which is a big step for me where I've had writer's block for so long.  I wrote a page.  A page!  It felt good to get words back on the canvas.  I'm hoping to have a Writer's Club at school this year, as the kids really motivated me in the past to be working on something.  Two years ago I did the club, and had such a talented group of writers.  I was so proud of their efforts.  I'd like to bring in a guest speaker, too, to help them hear about how the writing process works from an actual author or someone related to the field.  I'm excited!

The bars are about to come out of the oven.  Yum, yum, yum.  Go try the recipe, and let me know how it comes out!

Just Words On A Page

I'm writing just to write.  I've been less than inspired to write on my novel (ah, Three By Three how you torture me) this summer.  I've been relaxing.  A lot of changes have taken place at school, and I'm apprehensive about the future.  August 24th I need to report for an event, and I can feel the nerves gathering already.  Yes, everything will be fine, but it's still the unknown.

I feel a lot of times teaching is like acting.  I have to get up on that stage, put on my game face, and go.  But what if I don't have a game face?  I sometimes wonder.  It's so damn hard on days where you're sick, or tired, or just not completely pumped up to be the most awesomeness that you usually are.  I also think kids are kids and should be treated as such.  They're not mini-Einsteins, (especially with middle school), awaiting an acceptance to Princeton or Harvard or Yale.  Let them enjoy the last of their childhood!  Why are we pushing them so much?  Push push push.  All for the kid to have a major breakdown and depression at the age of thirteen.  It's just crazy.  I'm the goofy teacher, the one who just bought a poster about renting monkeys.  Yes, they'll have to decipher it from Spanish to English, but once they do, they'll be good to rent a monkey anywhere in the world.  Hey - it's a valuable skill.  Is it not?

The photo above is from my happy place, Lake Champlain.  It was so nice to go there this year once again for two weeks.  I enjoyed everyone's company, and the two college visits.  Never mind the fact that Kidlet B is lamenting that UVM doesn't allow water bottles on campus ("But no water bottles!  No throw away water bottles?!  What gives?!"), all in all it was a fun and productive vacation.  I'm loving the heat, despite not having central air.  Visits to Maine have been awesome (Thank you, F&G!).

But I want to write more.  I just cannot seem to focus on one topic or theme without getting distracted, like a toddler in front of a candy bar.  I have an idea for a new novel, but not sure if it's too like one that's one the market now.  I keep thinking, "Marketability!" before I write.  Perhaps I should just write, and not worry about whether or not it's sell-worthy.

So, I still have the day job, as much as I would like to be writing full time, and volunteering at the library as a page.  Ah, that would be heaven!  Can you arrange for me to win the lottery soon so that can happen?  That would be nice.  Just shelving books, seeing all the clear-cut letters on the spines.  I love viewing all the unique titles; it gets my mind roaming.  I miss working in the library.  Perhaps I can go back someday soon when my boys are older and driving themselves.

Enjoy the rest of summer!  Please keep in touch!  And get ready for the onslaught of fall!

Drive, They Said

So, I'm searching for a new car for the kidlets.  This has taken me into the Craigslist domain.  And oh, what an adventure it is!  People don't return emails, phone calls, or messages.  Gosh, it's just like online dating but without the final prize at the end.  Today, though, I think we found a car.

We?  I say we because I have my brother dragged into this endeavor with me.  Why?  Because I'm nervous about buying a car on my own.  He knows what to look for, and how to push a car to its limits.  That's why I'm bringing him with me.  Do I feel like the village idiot when buying a car?  Most certainly yes, especially with a used car.  My brother knows the questions to ask, the things under the hood to prod at, and where to crawl under the body of the car.

I don't want to jinx it, but I found an almighty Volvo.  Yes, you know me and Volvos.  It's solid, except for the breaks.  (I can hear you now.  "Mausigal!  The breaks?!  That's like an elemental part of the car!")  It's ok.  I'll get them fixed.  New tires.  A/C is running ok.  Windows working.  Just enough dents and scratches to make it look like an awesome teen car.  I love it!  I want it!  Perhaps that's part of the problem.  I'm driving a 2015 Volvo, and in my heart I want to drive a clunker.  I want the car with 150,000 miles, proving to everyone "That it's a Volvo and it can go the extra mile!"

Even if I had the money, I wouldn't want them in something new.  I'd still want Kidlet A and Kidlet B in a clunker.  There's something so quintessential about the high school experience, owning a clunker car.  There's nothing better than a Volvo wagon for that!  I still remember JF's Volvo wagon in college - the "Dead Sled," covered with Greatful Dead stickers on the back.  I hope my son's car becomes as emblematic as hers, complete with stickers, paint, graffiti - you name it!  It's theirs!  Let it become an icon!

I am truly blessed that I can give my kids a car.  I've been saving for awhile now, putting aside money each month towards this.  I didn't have a car  in high school.  My parents drove me, or I borrowed the family car on weekends.  Hopefully they'll appreciate it.

Bring on the new wheels!  Go Swedes!

Heart-Shaped Swiss

I believe in small miracles.  Yes, the picture of Jesus in the laminate.  Things like that get me all excited.  So, you can imagine my happiness this morning when I found a little heart in the middle of Kidlet B's Swiss cheese for his sandwich.  Can you see it above?  That little heart?  It's just perfect!  So small, so loving, so unassuming.  I just wanted to scream with joy!  I couldn't have cut a heart that beautiful!  And it was all Kidlet B's!

I bet he dove into the sandwich and never looked back.  Never even noticed the heart.  Because he is a hungry sixteen year old boy.  And I am a nostalgic forty-something who likes to see symbolism in such things as license plates.

'Cause you never know?  Right?  I once was on my way to a date and saw a license plate that said, "BLIEVE."  I needed that at just that time.  Why?  Because I was so down on dating and the whole process.  Things got better.  And seeing "BELIEVE" turned my attitude around.  I believe in signs.

Do you?  Do you believe there are little signs that change our day, change our outlook?  Perhaps it's just our outlook that sees them.  If I wasn't looking at license plates, I never would have seen the "BLIEVE" one.  My mind was open to the possibilities of a signal, and it arrived.  Whoa.  Now I sound like "The Secret."

Kidlet B still isn't home from school, so I haven't asked him yet if he saw all the love in his sandwich.  At least he will know his mom cared.

Silent

I've become afraid of blogging.  Yes, I have all sorts of ideas in my head, but the notion of somehow offending someone, somewhere has started to overwhelm me.  I think it began a few years ago when I suggested to my sisters-n-law about a post about the "Market Basket Deli Rant."  In my mind the post was rather funny - people who go up and order five pounds of items, getting a sample for each one, contemplating the thickness of each slice.  ARGH!  All this at seven a.m.  My sisters-in-law slammed my snobbery, prodding me to contemplate who did I think I was with my mere order of a 2/3 pound of turkey and 2/3 pound of honey baked ham, no samples, no special instructions.  Other people had begged me to do the "Market Basket Deli Rant," but the piece fell to the wayside.  I was too afraid of the backlash.  I didn't want to express my opinions.

I think this is what it's come to with my writing.  I'm downright scared of pissing someone off that I just don't write.  Some pieces seem too personal.  Some pieces I start seem too generic.  I could always blog about the cats, I suppose.  But then someone, somewhere will claim I'm nothing but a cat lady, sitting in my house with the felines all day.  I guess I care too much about my audience when writing.  Perhaps that's really sad.  I used to thoroughly enjoy posting here, but now I'm downright scared.

I'm losing my voice.

I may start up a blog somewhere on the internet without my name, without links to Facebook (like I was doing), so I can write freely.  If people find me, so be it.  But in the land of the worldwide web, it will be hard to do.  Then I can write freely, and have an audience slam me at will - people who don't know me.  I miss writing.  But I don't know if this blog is the tool I want to use to express myself any longer.

I guess that's the danger in writing - one's always going to have an adversary somewhere.  Maybe I just need to learn to live with the critics.

Chocolate...and Life!

I found an amazing recipe for chocolate chip muffins that I ***must*** share.  Here it is:  Bakery Style Chocolate Chip Muffins.  Oh, and how they do not disappoint!  These muffins will not get stuck on the sides of your muffin tin like other muffins, leaving you sad and disappointed.  Don't you hate that?   You pull out a muffin and chips and muffin pieces remain.  Bummer!  But not with these muffins! They slid out perfectly - leaving you with beautiful muffins for your loved ones.  And yes - they are tasty and easy to make!

I made muffins today after a grueling migraine.  Alas, there were no Pop Tarts in the house and the boys needed a breakfast item for tomorrow.  Drive to the store or bake muffins?  You already knew which one won.  Am I sinner for even offering my boys Pop Tarts?  Possibly, but they do love them, and it's a breakfast item.  I do bake them cookies and/or brownies for treats in their lunch every day.  Can we have it all?  And still continue to drive around to a myriad of activities, grade papers, and try to write a novel and have a personal life?  I don't know.  It's tough.

The littles just got their driving permits.  So the fun begins!  Pretty soon they'll be independent, and I'll wonder where the time went.  Time, time, time.  I feel it creeping up on me, that time where I'll be totally alone without Kidlet A and Kidlet B, no longer baking muffins for them.

And that makes me sad...

Second Sleep Surprises

It's 3:25 am as I write this.  I just woke up.  No alarm, no weird noises, nothing like that.  I am fully awake.  Some would call this insomnia, but Breadman recently told me about something called "Second Sleep."  Oh yes.  This bit about getting up at 3am and doing things like baking brownies or reading or jamming out to Pandora?  Our ancestors did this!  Well, maybe not to the extreme that I am taking it, but they did!  Really!  And they never called it insomnia!

Roger Ekirich, a professor at Virginia Tech, discovered that those in the past had two sleep sections at night.  This great online article, Your Ancestors Didn't Sleep Like You, details the second sleep, or segmented sleep, very well.  In between the two sleeps people would do things like read, pray, talk to one another, even go visiting!  And oh yes, let's not forget sex.  Prime time for loving.

So my time in-between second sleep?  I'm currently listening to Florence and the Machine's "Kiss With A Fist.  I'm on cup of coffee number two.  Second sleep pretty much rocks.

I woke up to three fifteen year olds who believe in a late first sleep, much to my chagrin.  Sleep over night, and I found pizza roll remains in the kitchen (what is in those?!), wrappers strewn among the living room, and an empty Arnold Palmer jug in the dining room.  They are now in bed, obviously, because having a mom around kills the fun.  Either that, or they've run out of movies or rap songs.

I used to think this time in-between sleeps was insomnia for me, but feel so much better thinking of it as two sleeps.  I enjoy having this little time in the night, where I can write and listen to some music.  But I know for me this is a luxury, as I'm on vacation this week and can sleep in after my time up until 8am.  During the week my second sleep periods are hard to manage, as I get up at 4am.  So, usually my second sleep doesn't happen; I fight it.  I try to go back to sleep.  I miss it.

It's hard not to eat breakfast now, though.  I'm craving toast with butter and jam.  But I can't have two breakfasts, or I'll end up looking like Jabba the Hut.  So I'll have cup of coffee number 3.

It's too bad that second sleep had to be faded out of our history.  But we live in such a rushed culture, and can't go to bed at 7pm anymore.  Ha!  Can you imagine, going to bed at 7pm every night in the winter? Um, yes I certainly can!  That would be heaven!  I'm such an early bird, that I would love to go to bed at that hour.  It would be so relaxing.  Then have the little time between first and second sleep, ah, sleep!  Maybe that's why Americans are so darn stressed out.  We don't have second sleep!  If we did, maybe we'd be better off.  I'm happier on days that I have my second sleep.  Yes, I know, because I sleep until eight or nine o'clock.  But still, there's something to be said for having that quiet time at night where you can contemplate, write, or do whatever (i.e. have sex).  The quiet of the evening does have a peacefulness that can't be duplicated during the day.

I could do the dishes.  I could clean up the mess from the teens.  But instead I will write for just a little bit more before retiring to bed.  Goodnight, all!

The Truth is Here...Somewhere

I'm obsessed with the X-Files.  When I heard that there was a new set of shows coming out, I was elated.  AND that the original cast was back?  No way!  What could be better?  

Launch 2016 back to 1993 when the show premiered.  I've been a fan since the beginning.  I'll admit I was skeptic at first, as I'm not really into science fiction.  The Ex convinced me it was worth watching, and an addiction began.  So many great memories, so many great shows.

But something is going on.  Since I heard about the new show I felt like I've been thrown back in time, and my mood has shifted.  I've been on this kick of listening to Courtney Love, Nirvana, and Garbage - all bands that I rocked out to during the X-Files reign.  I painted my nails blue.  I got highlights in my hair.  I cut my hair in a style that was different from the preppy bob I've worn for years.  What is going on?

Back in 1993 my days were filled with worrying about obtaining my teaching license, coaching cheerleading, and a young marriage.  My life is completely different now.  I feel that at that time I had ultimate hope - like the future was open and anything could happen.

Now my days are filled with worrying about renewing my teaching license (does that ever end?!), paying for college, and getting Kidlet A & B a good, used Volvo.  

The move has gone from worrying about me to worrying about them.  The truth is out there - it's now in my kidlets.

I'll admit I'm pretty damn scared that the Kidlets are leaving for college in two years.  Benefits?  Not having to do laundry every day.  Not driving all over to multiple music lessons, snowboarding jobs, and general activities.  But I will miss them so much.  As a single mom they have become even moreso my world these past seven years.  They will make great boyfriends, as who else has been dragged into Sephora before?  And forced to have a discussion about which shoes look best?  

I guess my identity crisis is starting early, as I prep for their departure in two years.  Who will I become once they're gone?  I can't go back to being that thirty-one year old I was when they were born.  My interests have changed.  I can still jam out to Hole and the best of Deadmau5, but the lyrics have changed in my head.  Will I be like Mulder?  Looking for the unknown, seeing something that's not there and hoping to find an answer from beyond?  Or will I be like Scully?  Grounded in the known, feet firmly on the ground, yet sometimes being reluctant to accept the unseen.  Perhaps I'll end up a combination of both.

So I'll continue to set that Pandora station to Courtney Love radio, and cover the kitchen in flour as I bake breads and cookies.  Some things may change, yet others stay the same.  It's said the truth will set you free.  We'll see.  Hopefully the truth will be fun.  

Flying Solo

I've become obsessed with making fresh bread so that I always have a loaf in the house.  I love the smell of it baking, and absolutely adore my one piece in the morning with butter.  I just made a loaf of raisin bread (shown above), so my home smells delicious.  And I am alone.

And you know what?  I enjoy it.

When I first got divorced there was that fear of being alone, without my sons.  How would I fill my time if my kids weren't here?  Seven years later, I am content in so many ways with the hours that I have when I fly solo.

Baking bread seems to be a very solitary activity.  It's not like cookies, where you can ask a child to help you decorate, throw in the sugar and chocolate chips.  This morning I was given a lesson from Breadman in using sourdough starter, but it's up to me to make that final loaf.  Right now I have the dough rising.  I will have so much bread!  Yippie!  My afternoon was spent with Pandora loudly playing, Courtney Love and Nirvana in the background.  My coffee cup was never empty.  My hands were covered in flour.  My kitchen sink is filled with dishes.  But I am so happy.  Oh yes.

(sourdough starter.  Doesn't it look yummy?  hehehehehe)

In the midst of the baking and rising of bread.  I did some Postcrossing.  For those of you not familiar with my addiction, it's the sending and receiving of postcards through Postcrossing.com.  I'm very active in the forum, trading pinup girls, fairies, foxes, and Alice In Wonderland cards.  I make envelopes for those who wish to have their cards protected in the mail.  I cover the cards and envelopes in washi tape, one of my other addictions.

(Only five you say?  Ha!  I have a huge box full!!!)

I texted with friends.  I drank more coffee.  But above all I enjoyed my ME time.

Of course I enjoy being with other people.  I cherish my time with friends and family.  But my time spent alone recharges me for the moments that I spend with them.  I enrich myself when I'm doing the individual things that I really can't do with them.  Want to send out postcards together?  Wouldn't really work.  Hey - want to mess around with washi tape?  That sounds kinky.  Eeek!  Washi tape kinky?  I don't think I want to go to that planet.  My point is that I'm a better person when I get to dance around the kitchen, pretending I'm a grunge singer, immersing my hands in wet dough, and slamming down my tenth (!) cup of coffee.  Would I do that with someone else present?  Of course I would.  But it's downright fun to do it on my own.

My sourdough loaf is in need of shaping.  Kidlet A & B return in an hour.  Life will get back to laundry folding, scheduling appointments, and the making of dinners for three.  Time to get ready to teach some teens some grunge.