Thanks

It has occurred to me recently that Americans love to complain. Now, that wouldn’t be so bad if we could all say that we balance these negative comments with positive ones. But sadly, few of us do. Nothing is safe from our lamenting…the weather…our paychecks….our spouses…our kids….our bodies….need I go on? What’s worse is if you think about our social interactions, what are we talking about? Chances are, we’re complaining to our friends or family about probably our friends or family.

Other cultures, from what I’ve unscientifically observed, do not complain as much as we do. Yet we profess to be the greatest country in the world! If it’s so great, why do we complain so much? Is it because we are so self-centered? Short sighted perhaps?

British people seem to complain a lot less than we do. In fact, they apologize for the most ordinary things, “sorry” is a staple word in their vocabulary. And when asked how things are going, they commonly reply “fantastic” regardless that their marriage is in the dumps, their children are hooked on drugs and they just lost their job. So why can’t we show a little fortitude and restraint?

We have a lot to be thankful for! (Yes, I just said something positive, despite the “looming depression,” the downward spiraling stock market, the fact that I just lost my job, and the costs of most necessities are rising.)…now that wasn’t so hard.

In less than a week, we as a nation will celebrate “Turkey Day.” Wait a minute…it’s actually called THANKSgiving. It’s not the turkey that should be the focus here. Get it? This is strictly an American holiday, so let’s take the opportunity to prove that we CAN do it. We can be positive!

So, here’s your assignment:
Lets all suck it up, atleast for the next week, and talk to our co-workers, family and friends about what kindness you witnessed (ie a stranger let you go in front of him at the backed up grocery checkout), instead of complaining of the bitter cold, focus on the beautiful cardinal at your birdfeeder or the Currier & Ives-like snowfall you see as you drive to work. Instead of grinding your teeth because your spouse again left their clothes on the floor, remember he set up the coffee maker the night before so that you could wake to it’s wonderful smell and it is ready and hot waiting for you. Let’s show some thanks for a change.

These shoes were made for walking…but now they run!

Seven weeks ago I joined a gym and hired a personal trainer in efforts to change my body, my health and my life. In these seven weeks I have not only improved my body and health, but learned a few other things along the way.

1. Be careful what you say. When Katherine (my trainer) asked how many hours I’d be willing to work towards my fitness goal every week. I answered “4 to 6 hours.” Clearly my mind was leaning toward 4 or less, but I wanted to impress her with my commitment. “Good,” she answered, “we’ll go with 6!” And she promptly fashioned a workout regime that brought me to the gym 6 days a week!

2. A minute is a very long time. I’ve never been a runner. In fact, I hated any thing to do with running and for most of my life have avoided most sports activities, with running being at the top of the list. So when Katherine prescribed 20 minutes of running every week, I was not overly enthusiastic about it. So in the first few weeks I’d run for a minute or two and “quickly walk” the remaining 18 minutes.

3. Soy milk isn’t that bad; neither is pitas, yogurts, salads and shredded wheat¬—these are staples in my diet now. Oh yeah, and 60 calorie, sugar free Jello brand chocolate pudding (premade and in the refrigerated section of your grocery store) IS THE BOMB!! Yum!

4. Things change. 36 visits to the gym (I took a week off due to a sinus infection) will change your body, your health and your life. Although I still have a long way to go, I have lost 12 pounds and 11 inches of my body. And today I ran for 26 minutes and 30 seconds…and it felt GREAT!

Belated Halloween photo

Those who know me, know I tend to be...ummmm... a bit on the "late" side. Although I constantly work on not being tardy, and have had some success, posting in this blog has been a little behind. So in an effort to catch up, here is a photo of the kids right before they began their "quest for candy."

Grace and Gunnar were self-proclaimed "warriors" (althought the costume patterns they picked were "knights"). They each picked out the fabric and I clumsily sewed their costumes. They turned out okay in the end I think.

Paige originally wanted to be a leopard, but later decided to be a fairy. Lucky for me, that's what Grace was last year, a woodland fairy, and the costume was already ready.

As trick-or-treating in the country is spotty at best, and A LOT of walking for very few houses, we joined our friends, the Goens, in their suburban neighborhood in North Grand Rapids/Kenowa area and the kids filled their Halloween bags almost to the top! As soon as they dumped the bags of candy onto the floor, I scooped up as many Twix bars as I could manage. Overall, it was a good and chocolatey-delicious time!

There are leaves on my floor…

I’ve noticed an odd sound as I stride to and fro in my house. It is the sound of rustling….no, maybe crunching. And upon closer inspection, I’ve discovered that there are leaves on my floor. Obviously not content to merely drift down from the trees and rest on a cushy green bed of grass, they have somehow crept, blown and snuck their way into my house.

Although trying to keep a “low profile”, I’ve noticed them lingering in the corners of my hardwood floor. Perhaps they were cold; maybe even lonely. For once inside, they have the company of tiny bits of paper, soft balls of cat hair, twisty ties (from bread wrappers), rubber bands, bits of apple peels (that the dogs missed) and of course a stray lego or two. Whatever the reason, I’ve decided they must not stay.

I will soon find my royal blue, nylon-bristled brush, and shoo them into my wastebasket….right after I put away the washed dishes, both from the counter and dishwasher, fold the clothes and put them away, clean the kitchen counter for the 63rd time, make my son’s Halloween costume, fix myself some lunch, make a grocery list, feed the cat, and the dogs, change the sheets on all the beds, scrub the toilets, fix the kids a snack (yes, I’ll wash my hands after the toilets…), file my coupons and fix dinner.

Screw it. A few leaves never hurt anybody.

Three pumpkins and a bandaid

For reasons I can't quite put my finger on, Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays. I don't particularily like to dress up in a costume. And I definitely don't like to be scared. Maybe it's the time of year (I love fall), pumpkins, and the chocolate bars that I "borrow" from my kids' bags.

Anyhow, one of my least favorite parts of Halloween is the actual carving of pumpkins. The idea of it is fun and creative...but the reality is sore arms and gooky pumpkin guts. This opinion, however, is not shared by the kids who have been bugging me to carve their pumpkins for weeks now. This year I volunteered Fred to head this project. As he handed out the knives, I snapped the pictures. The result: three festively carved pumpkins, roasted pumpkin seeds and a bandaid on Grace's pinky finger. Not bad considering the odds.

Little things can be killers

Yesterday while watching Oprah, she said something that she has said before "people want to feel validated...people want to be listened to and heard...." That isn't an exact quote, but the general idea of what she said. I understood her, that people want to be recognized for who they are, and what they need. When we are struggling and stressed and we yell at our kids, our spouse, our co-workers....hopefully they are hearing "I'm overwhelmed and tired. Cut me some slack. Understand my frustration. Reach out and help me through this." I got this.

This morning it occured to me as I looked at the capless toothpaste tube in my childrens' bathroom, that it's not always the big things that break us down in our daily lives, it's the little things.

A sick relative, being fired from a job, a child that's not behaving....our friends and family will rally around to offer advice, support and empathy. Don't get me wrong, it's wonderful to receive this. And I thankfully rely on it. But where are they when you find the sock shoved in between the couch cushions after you've endured your kids' cries of "I can't find socks" as you try to get the to school on time?

Like Chinese water torture, each unheeded request drips unto our sanity, boring a hole millimeter by millimeter, eventually getting big enough to let the crazies in. The dirty clothes on the floor merely inches from the laundry basket. Dishes caked with hardened rice krispies on the counter, while the open dishwasher door beckons, no pleads with them to put them inside. And yes, despite hundred of requests, the cap never seems to make it back onto the tube of toothpaste. Am I alone in this? Time to vent people! What little things drive you to doors of the "nut-house"?

How do you like them apples?...A LOT!

Saturday afternoon a neighbor boy stopped by to chat and happened to mention that he and his sister was taking a walk down the road to pick up "drops" of Northern Spy apples for his mother. Now those of us who are die hard pie makers know that Spies make the best apple pies! And the thought of getting a bunch for free is akin to winning the lottery...well, almost. So, of course, I invited myself and daughter, Paige, along.

I ended up getting, oh probably a half a bushel. Enough to make some fresh apple pies, apple pie kits and perhaps some applesauce if I'm not "appled out" by that time. Now upon viewing these luscious beauties you may think they're not so pretty...but I do. You see the spots are evidence of what I already knew...the apples were grown organically. Living in the heart of orchard country, it is still hard to find organically grown fruit. I'm lucky enough to have a neighbor who not only grows Spies, but grows them organically! Yippee!

Now that you know what apples make the best pies...want to know the best recipe? It's fairly simple and one that has been used by atleast three generations in my family.

First the crust (taken from Woman's Home Companion Cook Book circa 1942--the one my grandma used)

** Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

2 cups flour
1 tsp salt
2/3 c. shortening (I prefer the butter flavor...and usually use a bit more than 2/3 c.)
Approx. 6 Tbs. Ice water
• Sift flour with salt into a medium to large bowl. Add shortening and "cut" into flour until mixture looks crumbly. Add ice water a couple tablespoons at a time until the dough starts to hold it's shape.
• Now at this point most crust recipes would tell you to refrigerate the dough. I've found that it becomes harder to work with and you don't want to overwork the dough. So I leave it out while I peel my apples and prepare the filling.

The filling:
•Peel and core 4-6 apples, depending on how big the apples are and how packed you want your pie. I slice the apples fairly thin because I like how the tender apples almost melt in my mouth, but if you like a bit more substance or chew to your pie, slice them thicker.

1 tsp cinnamon
3/4 - 1 c. sugar
1/4 tsp. salt
2-3 Tbs. flour

•Mix above ingredients.
• Roll out your pie crusts. Keep in mind that you will be making a bottom and top crust, so cut the dough ball in half.
• Once the bottom crust is in the pie plate. Pour half of sugar mixture on the bottom. Place the apples on top of that. Sprinkle remaining sugar mix over apples. To add a little richness, you can slice butter and dot butter across the top of the apples and sugar.
• Put top crust in place, secure the edges.
• Cut a few slit on the top crust.
Optional egg wash:
Beat one egg and with a pastry brush, paint on the egg across entire top crust. Then using approx. a tablespoon of sugar, very finely sprinkle sugar across the middle of the pie, staying away from the edges (they'll burn).

Bake for approximately 30 minutes or until you start to smell the pie and can see the filling bubbling through the crust.

Enjoy!