Recipe for "Ben's Bunches" which B (almost 9 yo) named in honor of Ben Rothlisberger
They are her favorite candy and we will be serving them on Sunday at the Steelers beat those birds. Go Black and Gold!
4 cups krispie rice cereal
2 cups small marshmallows
1 cup peanut butter
1 block almond bark (chocolate is our fave, but the white "chocolate" was in the original recipe.)
1 cup dry roasted peanuts (optional)
Melt the almond bark in the microwave according to package directions, but in a large bowl. After melted, add the peanut butter and stir until blended. Then stir in the remaining ingredients. Drop by spoonful onto waxed paper or spread into a 9x13 pan. Allow to cool. If in a pan, cut into bars.
I do not know the origin of this recipe but we LOVE LOVE LOVE it.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Sofa Cushions
I finished the cushions. I am excited, exhausted and in pain. My back aches, my fingers hurt and I think my eyes are crossed. It was worth it. I learned a lot, did something good for my house and tried something new.
I chose to do just the cushions because I was afraid of the work involved. But no
w I'm thinking I may want to tackle that as well. Thoughts?Here are the results.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
More DIY Upholstery Tips
You will need many needles. Many. More than one package. And lots of thread.
And bandaids. Don't forget the bandaids.
And bandaids. Don't forget the bandaids.
So You Think You Can Reupholster?
If you ever think about reupholstering any piece of furniture in your possession, here are my tips.
First understand that this is a crazy idea and it will take longer than forty days in the desert. But know that despite the insanity of the idea, its worth giving it a go. Just for the experience, see. Since you already had the crazy idea, it seems clear that the doing of the project will in no way affect your present sanity. Since you have none.
Next you will need more materials than locally and easily available. You will run out of something and will not have the gumption to go get it because you will be covered with thread and sofa innards and will not be publicly presentable. For days.
Therefore, this little project of yours will take far longer than estimated. This makes you on a par with the cable company and the contractor remodeling your kitchen. This is okay. Now you understand their plight. Of course, you will have been working all day and all night in your fabric sweatshop, rather than standing by the side of the road in an orange vest smoking a cigarette and holding a sign while the other construction workers do pretty much the same. But that's for another time.
It helps to have a math major living in your house. This way when you've measured the zippers and the sides and the tops and it still doesn't fit you can have help, and someone to blame and yell at. A nice trait in this math major is kindness; cuteness helps too.
You will need a first aid kit. And lots of bandaids. And a high pain threshold. It is okay if you inadvertently stitch through your finger. Once. Any more than that and it's time to take a break. Maybe a long one. Go get a snack, or a drink, or beat something. Whatever you need to do.
Acrylic nails help with the sewing of the fingers, by the way; much stronger than regular nails.
Patience, grasshopper. You will need infinite amounts of patience. You will need the patience of a mother on a snowday when all the kids are sick, and there is laundry and fighting and dishes and fighting and, well, I think you see where I'm going with this.
When you have rounded up all of these things, put it all in your workspace and ignore it. Usually three or four weeks is long enough for the feeling to pass. If your insanity persists, and your will to work is not yet crushed, then be gentle with yourself. When you get to work, go slowly, breath deeply (remember birthing if you can) sing some good songs and have a pot of tea nearby.
Remember, it was your crazy idea in the first place. The craziest thing would be to actually do it. Pictures coming soon!
First understand that this is a crazy idea and it will take longer than forty days in the desert. But know that despite the insanity of the idea, its worth giving it a go. Just for the experience, see. Since you already had the crazy idea, it seems clear that the doing of the project will in no way affect your present sanity. Since you have none.
Next you will need more materials than locally and easily available. You will run out of something and will not have the gumption to go get it because you will be covered with thread and sofa innards and will not be publicly presentable. For days.
Therefore, this little project of yours will take far longer than estimated. This makes you on a par with the cable company and the contractor remodeling your kitchen. This is okay. Now you understand their plight. Of course, you will have been working all day and all night in your fabric sweatshop, rather than standing by the side of the road in an orange vest smoking a cigarette and holding a sign while the other construction workers do pretty much the same. But that's for another time.
It helps to have a math major living in your house. This way when you've measured the zippers and the sides and the tops and it still doesn't fit you can have help, and someone to blame and yell at. A nice trait in this math major is kindness; cuteness helps too.
You will need a first aid kit. And lots of bandaids. And a high pain threshold. It is okay if you inadvertently stitch through your finger. Once. Any more than that and it's time to take a break. Maybe a long one. Go get a snack, or a drink, or beat something. Whatever you need to do.
Acrylic nails help with the sewing of the fingers, by the way; much stronger than regular nails.
Patience, grasshopper. You will need infinite amounts of patience. You will need the patience of a mother on a snowday when all the kids are sick, and there is laundry and fighting and dishes and fighting and, well, I think you see where I'm going with this.
When you have rounded up all of these things, put it all in your workspace and ignore it. Usually three or four weeks is long enough for the feeling to pass. If your insanity persists, and your will to work is not yet crushed, then be gentle with yourself. When you get to work, go slowly, breath deeply (remember birthing if you can) sing some good songs and have a pot of tea nearby.
Remember, it was your crazy idea in the first place. The craziest thing would be to actually do it. Pictures coming soon!
Monday, January 26, 2009
Do you Tweet?
I got a Twitter account this summer after reading about it on an airplane. Sounded silly and fun. Turns out, in my little circle, I'm the only one who uses it. (If you don't know what it is, visit twitter here.)
After using it sparsely for a few months, a long lost friend found me on Facebook and then I found her on Twitter. Now I use it daily. It's good for a giggle and some people use it to grow their online businesses. There are many who argue that updating Facebook status reports is challenging enough; these people are the same who think there is nothing they need to report that others need to know.
While I see the point, I can't deny the fun and amazement it gives me. There are people following me who are literally "rock stars" of their industries. Most of the people who see my updates don't know me, never met me wouldn't recognize me if I tweeted them silly. In theory, they should not care that I just had a honeycrisp apple with peanut butter down the center. And maybe they don't.
What is fun for me is the questions it raises about the kind of life we live now: separated, busy, disjointed, technified. It also begs the relational question of what makes one tweeter decide to follow another tweeter. Sometimes there are clues like common interests; other times it seems out of the blue.
More fun is the challenge of writing in 140 words something interesting, informative and maybe even reassuringly cryptic. Again, this brings me back to belonging, community, being a part of something. Don't have any answers, just more to ponder. And you can follow me on twitter, user name jenluit.
After using it sparsely for a few months, a long lost friend found me on Facebook and then I found her on Twitter. Now I use it daily. It's good for a giggle and some people use it to grow their online businesses. There are many who argue that updating Facebook status reports is challenging enough; these people are the same who think there is nothing they need to report that others need to know.
While I see the point, I can't deny the fun and amazement it gives me. There are people following me who are literally "rock stars" of their industries. Most of the people who see my updates don't know me, never met me wouldn't recognize me if I tweeted them silly. In theory, they should not care that I just had a honeycrisp apple with peanut butter down the center. And maybe they don't.
What is fun for me is the questions it raises about the kind of life we live now: separated, busy, disjointed, technified. It also begs the relational question of what makes one tweeter decide to follow another tweeter. Sometimes there are clues like common interests; other times it seems out of the blue.
More fun is the challenge of writing in 140 words something interesting, informative and maybe even reassuringly cryptic. Again, this brings me back to belonging, community, being a part of something. Don't have any answers, just more to ponder. And you can follow me on twitter, user name jenluit.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Where Everybody Knows Your Name
In my life long battle of the growing and shrinking belly, I have done my fair share of workouts. It ebbs and flows with the pace of my life; I've never been a terribly gung-ho gym rat. After training for (and not running in) a 15k in October (thank you dear Ellen), I took some time to well, to sit on my hiney.
The effort to get back on the fit horse is daunting because really, who has the time? After completing the five alarm drill of getting the kids out the door, tidying up the clutter, and prepping for work days, I am barely motivated to stand much less make my legs move quickly and start to sweat.
Also, I'm cheap and I despise the idea of paying for gym membership.
In passing I picked up a booklet that listed all the offerings at the Tulsa County Parks. Less than a mile from my house there is a park center with a fitness center and it is open during reasonable people hours. And it's totally cheap. I bought myself a twenty visit pass and went after it. This will be a fun adventure.
The kind man at the desk said that MWF between 7:30 and 9 are the busiest times. Of course that's when I can go. What he didn't tell me was that this was the blue haired workout club. Yes, I was the youngest gal in the room, by a good three decades.
At first I was nervous and felt a little awkward, what with the lycra and the failure of my ipod to charge. But once I started my elliptical training, (yes, training, this is serious), I could listen to their talk and watch them in the full length of the room mirror. (And what is with those?)
One group of men near me were discussing the Super Bowl. This interests me as I love football and I LOVE the Steelers, who are in the big game this year. They must be coaches or former coaches because they were talking about packages and plays and x's and o's. Another man in his bald later years was actually strutting about with his muscle shirt and weight lifting belt. Then there was the precious woman in her matching pink sweatsuit and blue eyeshadow who came to bless me with "health and abundance." I blurted a thank you to her her through my gasps for air.
Finally, a rather large older man climbed aboard the treadmill near me. He started walking and was barely upright as his forearms rested on the handles. In the supremacy of youth I felt smug and fit and young and vibrant. The smugness wore off.
Walking in there was like entering the gym version of Cheers. They all knew each other so there was this light banter and cheerfulness. I could get used to that. I expected to be the new girl working off her Christmas in her thrown together sweats and coffee breath amid the perky cutie-pies in their matching sets.
I won't be dyeing my hair blue but I think I like this place. The more time I spend writing these posts, the more I am seeing community just about everywhere. Why does that surprise me?
As a side note, if you live in Tulsa, you must go here to check out the fabulous classes being offered around our city this spring.
.
The effort to get back on the fit horse is daunting because really, who has the time? After completing the five alarm drill of getting the kids out the door, tidying up the clutter, and prepping for work days, I am barely motivated to stand much less make my legs move quickly and start to sweat.
Also, I'm cheap and I despise the idea of paying for gym membership.
In passing I picked up a booklet that listed all the offerings at the Tulsa County Parks. Less than a mile from my house there is a park center with a fitness center and it is open during reasonable people hours. And it's totally cheap. I bought myself a twenty visit pass and went after it. This will be a fun adventure.
The kind man at the desk said that MWF between 7:30 and 9 are the busiest times. Of course that's when I can go. What he didn't tell me was that this was the blue haired workout club. Yes, I was the youngest gal in the room, by a good three decades.
At first I was nervous and felt a little awkward, what with the lycra and the failure of my ipod to charge. But once I started my elliptical training, (yes, training, this is serious), I could listen to their talk and watch them in the full length of the room mirror. (And what is with those?)
One group of men near me were discussing the Super Bowl. This interests me as I love football and I LOVE the Steelers, who are in the big game this year. They must be coaches or former coaches because they were talking about packages and plays and x's and o's. Another man in his bald later years was actually strutting about with his muscle shirt and weight lifting belt. Then there was the precious woman in her matching pink sweatsuit and blue eyeshadow who came to bless me with "health and abundance." I blurted a thank you to her her through my gasps for air.
Finally, a rather large older man climbed aboard the treadmill near me. He started walking and was barely upright as his forearms rested on the handles. In the supremacy of youth I felt smug and fit and young and vibrant. The smugness wore off.
Walking in there was like entering the gym version of Cheers. They all knew each other so there was this light banter and cheerfulness. I could get used to that. I expected to be the new girl working off her Christmas in her thrown together sweats and coffee breath amid the perky cutie-pies in their matching sets.
I won't be dyeing my hair blue but I think I like this place. The more time I spend writing these posts, the more I am seeing community just about everywhere. Why does that surprise me?
As a side note, if you live in Tulsa, you must go here to check out the fabulous classes being offered around our city this spring.
.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
What I Meant to Say
Since I'm newish to blogging I haven't carved out a mission statement or a theme. I just spill my guts for public consumption. My last post about belonging in an environment where I'm not sure I fit in was posted with naive confidence. I didn't really polish my writing. After I clicked the Publish Post button, I panicked. What did I just do? Were people going to think I was referencing them as the crazy parents? Was I saying I didn't like where my kids went to school? Was I revealing some kind of affluence prejudice? Yowza.
Here's what I really want to say. The majority of the people at my kids' school are fantastic. There are a few crazy loons, but you're gonna find that anywhere. I worried right after I posted that I was betraying the one rule I had set for myself, in sharing info that needn't be shared. The double edged sword of writing: wanting to say something without hurting or opening up a can of confusion and interpretation.
As for the fitting in thing, well, turns out, everyone struggles with that at one time or another. I heard from several readers who feel like outsiders looking in at others' much more glamorous lives. The thing is, once I started developing those friendships, the feeling of not belonging evaporated. Funny that. Its the logical progression. Being in relationship makes the outsider a "belonger."
Okay. That's not all but I'll save it for now.
Here's what I really want to say. The majority of the people at my kids' school are fantastic. There are a few crazy loons, but you're gonna find that anywhere. I worried right after I posted that I was betraying the one rule I had set for myself, in sharing info that needn't be shared. The double edged sword of writing: wanting to say something without hurting or opening up a can of confusion and interpretation.
As for the fitting in thing, well, turns out, everyone struggles with that at one time or another. I heard from several readers who feel like outsiders looking in at others' much more glamorous lives. The thing is, once I started developing those friendships, the feeling of not belonging evaporated. Funny that. Its the logical progression. Being in relationship makes the outsider a "belonger."
Okay. That's not all but I'll save it for now.
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