Melanie of Big Mama shares a wonderful way we can support the families of our military.  I am just starting to think of our family’s holiday card, and I think I will try to do this.  Will you consider sending a Christmas card yourself?  Please note that the deadline is December 1st.

And I just found this fabulous-looking recipe.  I am wondering if I can make it with my own pumpkin.  And my own cookies.  And my own caramel topping.  But cool whip…hmmm…I may be going to the store after all.

Recently I had the chance to review a new CD by Linda Eder. She has done a lot of interesting things in her life, some of which you can read about on her website at www.lindaeder.com. Since I’d never heard of her til I got the CD, the bottom line for me, though, was if I liked her music. I do. Her light pop/country style is very pleasant and easy to listen to. I tend to listen to Christian music, because I like to know that the lyrics are safe for my little children to listen to. But I felt fine with what I heard from this CD. I’ve listened to it 3 or 4 times since I got it, and I will be doubtless be listening to it again.

By the way, if you’re interested in knowing what other music I enjoy, I JUST figured out how to put a very cool list in my sidebar on the right. And yes, I’m already listening to Christmas music! Anyone else as impatient as I?

5:30 PM.

Kids are playing with play dough at the kitchen counter.  10 year old daughter says, “I wonder what we’re having for dinner?”

“Me too.” chimes in Mom, aka Chief Cook.

And all the kids sigh because if it’s 5:30 and mom doesn’t have a clue what’s for dinner, it doesn’t bode well for dinner happening anytime soon.

(Now off to cook….something….)

At a Compassion project in the DR

“Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; but I tell you, not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass in the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, how much more will He clothe you?”   Luke 12:27-28 (context)

Just found out I’ve been nominated in the Homeschool Blog Awards in the ‘Thrifty’ category.  Thanks to the mystery person who nominated me!  If any of you might be inclined to vote for me, here’s the link!

(aka my pitiful internet addiction)

I have soooo many things to do lately that I’ve felt a little overwhelmed.  Yesterday evening on facebook I commented that I needed some more time in the day and that a 28-hour day would be just about right.

A friend of my kids replied tongue in cheek that if one is already sleeping ‘efficiently’, and using time well in other ways, facebook time might be an area to consider redistributing.  Since he spends a fair bit of time on facebook himself, I didn’t take the suggestion seriously, though I did gasp in mock horror at the thought.

Then, 12 short hours later, my internet died.   Gone.  Dead.  Broke.  Caput.

From 9 AM to 9 PM today, I was without internet.  Not so much as an email.  Or a twitter update.  Or a blog post.

I remained relatively calm during the morning.  I had writing to do, after all.  As I wrote I stole frequent glances at the little icon in the corner of my screen that would indicate that my connection with the rest of the world had returned. But I got a fair bit done.

By lunch time I decided that this was no little hiccup.  I called the internet provider.  Got put in a queue.

“You are #8.  Estimated waiting time…..”

I held the phone to my ear while I read the mail and puttered around and talked to kids.  I appreciated the periodic update, “You are now #5….”

Except when I got to #1, it abruptly hung up on me.

Miffed, I called back.

Got the same treatment.  Long wait, then an abrupt hangup at #1.  Nice.

Finally I opted for the ‘leave a message’ option.  Left a polite but slightly whiny message.

Then I checked on the kids.

Thought about the blog post I needed to write.

Checked the computer.

Visited with Eldest.

Thought about the product review I needed to do.

Checked the computer.

Gave a haircut.

Realized I didn’t need internet for some of that writing, but checked the computer again anyway.

Gave another haircut.

Called the internet provider again.  Got hung up on again.

Checked the computer. Finally around 3:30 pm I was getting concerned.  Here it was, the end of the work week and I still hadn’t talked to a human.  What if I had to go all weekend without internet????

For some reason when we are camping, I can go the whole weekend easily, only thinking of the internet if I need to google something.  But here at home with the computer sitting there mocking me…well, I was going a little nutty.

I called the company again, selected voicemail, and left a voice message that might have sounded a teensy bit desperate.  I mentioned going without email since 9 am.  I mentioned getting hung up on.  I said things were getting a little tense around here.   “It’s not perty,” are the words I used, I believe.   At which point one of my 10 year olds stifled a snort of laughter.  I shot him a not-perty look.

The repair man called me back in five minutes.

At that point I put on the (piti)full armor of whining.  I also may have asked him if it was possible to access my email on his account.  I dunno whati was thinking-that he could read me my email over the phone or something?  Which, it turns out, is not possible.  He then informed me that their whole internet service was down all day.  Their company piggy-backs on Qwest’s equipment, it seems.  Something had broken and Qwest was having to fly a replacement part in from Denver.  No estimates available on fix-it time.

At which point I may have reminded the man that Denver is only two hours away flying, and that did not explain why my internet had been down all day.  (Or maybe I had that conversation with one of my children. Now that I think of it, I hope it was one of my kids I said that to, because that may have sounded a tad petulant.)

In any case, by the time the internet dude had gotten me sufficiently pacified, I am sure he decided that my ‘not perty’ assessment was accurate.

I managed to limp through the rest of the afternoon and evening with haircuts, dinner, and a movie.

But at 9 PM when the kids were tucked into bed and I saw that lovely, lovely icon that indicated that the world was at my fingertips once again, I rejoiced greatly.

(Update:   I have 30 testers– thanks so much, everyone!!)

I am neck-deep in writing and recipe testing for my next book, a frugal cook book whose goal is to help families shave hundreds off their grocery bill each month.  It is on the fast track to be released by Oxmoor House in August of 2009, which means I’ve gotta FINISH it!

I am in need of 30 people who would be willing to test 5 recipes each sometime over the next two months.   You don’t have to be an expert cook and you can pick which recipes you’re interested in testing.  I am asking that you test and answer 8 questions about the recipe within two weeks of signing up to test that recipe.

You will also need to create a (free) wordpress profile to access the blog on which I will be posting the recipes.  The recipe testing will begin immediately and be complete by mid January.  Please only sign up if you’re sure you can get feedback to me in a timely manner.

If any of you would be interested in testing recipes for me, will you please email me?

owlhaven at aol dot com

Thanks so much!!

“Mom, this is why I really don’t want to live in the wild.   There are mooses out there and they MAY get in the house.”

…so instead of a real post, like with actual words, I will share this pix of my hubby.  Doesn’t he look cute in the beard he grew while I was in the Dominican Republic?  He teases me that he grew it to prove how long I’d been gone.  (The guilt– it is like a knife in my heart)

I think it looks awesome on him.  He is not so sure. He claims the grey bits make him look ‘old’.  I think he looks darned cute, and am coaxing him to keep it.

In any case, unlike me, he actually wrote a post today.   So when you leave here, unsatisfied with slim pickins’ I’ve offered, stop by and see what he has to say.

(And tell him to keep the beard, OK?  Because his wife LIKES it!)

This evening I was sitting on the living room floor facebook-chatting with my 18 year old daughter while my hubby read a chapter of Narnia to the kids. Partway through the story, my three year old felt the siren call of sleep and came to snuggle against me.

I love that she still thinks I am the best person to snuggle with when going to sleep– yes, even though that means she still climbs in bed with us most mornings, and spends the last hour or two of the night vigorously kneading my ribs with her little toes.

This evening she soon dozed off, then slumped off my lap, and wiggled down to the floor to continue her slumber. After the story and prayers, as I hugged various children and reminded them to put on a clean shirt or get a shower or take your medicine or brush your teeth or tell me you love me for-goodness-sakes, I became conscious of my husband moving in next to me.

In one sure easy move, he scooped up our limp three year old, draped her over his shoulder and strode off to brush her teeth and tuck her into bed.

As I watched him walk away, broad shouldered and narrow-hipped in his black t-shirt and Levis, I saw him with new eyes. And marveled over the gorgeousness of him. And exulted that he is MINE.

The fact that he carries little girls off and brushes their pearly teeth and tucks them tenderly into bed with the experience and adept skill of a father only adds to the charm of him in my eyes.

And then he comes back a few minutes later, unaware of his charm, and wonders why I am staring at him so intently all of a sudden. And he grins anyway, pleased. And when I come to snuggle in beside him on the couch he kisses me soundly, right in front of the teenagers.

Wonderful man.

Lucky am I.