death by microwave

"Can I put my coffee thermos in the microwave?"

I posed the question to my older and much wiser-in-the-ways-of-appliances sister. We were working together this fine Tuesday morning in the doctor's office where we are both currently employed. In truth, she got me the job. She's worked there for quite a few years manning the front desk and I do medical transcriptions at a computer near hers. I love my job, I was wearing furry boots, and the sun was almost shining. There wasn't an ungodly amount of people in the waiting room and things were going smoothly...but something was dreadfully wrong.

My green tea was cold.

Now our office is freezing. I sit in the corner and the coldness just seeps through right down to my fingertips. Cold fingers when you're job is almost exclusively typing for hours on end is not cool. It's rather cold actually. And something hot to drink makes a world of difference. Therefore, it was imperative that my tea be piping hot for me to perform to my fullest potential.

After Sarah assured me that my thermos would be fine, I walked up the stairs relishing the opportunity to stretch my little legs. Opening the door of the microwave and tapping 40 seconds into the timer, I began to do aerobics. That's what I do while waiting for things in microwaves at work. It makes me feel better about having a desk job. Just when I was beginning to feel like my blood was flowing again, I began to smell something. It wasn't something good either. I wasn't sure, but I had a hunch it was coming from the microwave, and it smelled like something metal was croaking. As I was reaching for the microwave door there came a burst of light from inside and a queer zapping noise. I flung open the door and the kitchen filled with smoke that smelled distinctly of fried coffee thermos. My poor little thermos...the one I stole from dad that has NRA emblazoned on the side. It wasn't dead thankfully, and neither was I even more thankfully, and the building was still standing which was really a plus. Still needing my green tea, I poured the remnant into a coffee cup I found, which I promptly warmed up and walked down the stairs. Little did the people I passed know that there lives were nearly ended prematurely...and I didn't tell them. Instead I sat at my desk and typed medical jargon while sipping tea.

And this is just to prove that nothing is safe in this life: no job, no day, no green tea. And that you shouldn't ask Sarah what is microwave safe or not.

the story of Kid Cal

Once upon a time there lived a notorious outlaw named Kid Cal. He was feared far and wide for his dastardly deeds and over sized cowboy hat. He went from town to town robbing the local inhabitants, stealing steaks, and tipping cows. One day, in the town of Podge, Kid Cal was in the midst of robbing Joe Banker when he was interrupted by... Sheriff Thrasher! This man had caught many a crook, walked many a trail, and drank many a cup of coffee. Kid Cal knew he would have to act fast, and he did.

Instead of shooting (which would obviously have been what the Sheriff was expecting) the Kid swung his rifle and knocked Sheriff Thrasher out cold, tying both of his victims up. And then he laughed.

He was so preoccupied with his laughing in fact that he didn't hear the sound of footsteps behind him. And then when he did, it was far to late. He saw a blur of a gun barrel and flying braids, and then...nothing.

It was Bri Brady, who also happened to be the best shot in town.

And so ended the notorious reign of Kid Cal. He was thrown into Podge Prison (which I believe is a wooden chair in the middle of a field). The good townspeople were never harassed again and lived happily ever after.

The End.

a little potato with your salt?

Meal planning is not my forte. I make dinner every Thursday night. And most Thursdays roll around without my having planned anything. Like this morning. I was thinking potatoey thoughts, probably because we had some on hand, so I looked up "potato casserole" on foodnetwork.com. I found a promising dish with the simple ingredients of potatoes and cheese. Feeling adventurous and thinking culinary thoughts, I made some changes to the recipe to spice it up (and to substitute for what we didn't have). Cream of chicken instead of cream of celery, less sour cream, more cheese, corn flakes instead of potato chips...etc. I started extra early and rocked out to TobyMac's new cd as I grated potato and cooked chicken (something substantial to add in).

Finally it was dinner time: the casserole came out smelling devine. I heaped my darling family's plates with large spoonfuls of casserole yumminess. And then I took a bite. It tasted like...salt. I took another bite just to make sure: yup, it tasted like salt, with a hint of potato and a whole lot of corn flakes on the side. My dreams of becoming the next Food Network Star vanished before my eyes. Paula Dean had deceived me. Or maybe it was just that I forgot to consider the salt I put into the cooking chicken, and the salt in the cream of chicken soup, and the salt in the extra cheese while I was pouring in what the recipe called for. Thank goodness we had loads of delicious home-made applesauce to eat.

And I'm sure the dogs enjoyed their well-seasoned dinner.

The J-Bar and Me

I have never ridden a j-bar before, that is, until yesterday. If you were born after the 1970's, you may not know what that is unless your parents used to ride them, like mine did. They are chairlifts, but I use the term loosely. Emily, Anna, and I went to a small mountain last night that still had one of these contraptions, and we had to go on it just to say we did. I must say I should have had the upper hand because I was the only skier, and riding the j-bar as a boarder is...interesting. Emily went first, and nearly ran into the "lift" attendant. Anna went next and did the same. But now it was my turn. I was going to do this like a pro, with grace, and ease. I pushed myself over to the right place and waited nonchalantly for the strange pole thing to come and whisk me up the hill. I grabbed the pole and promptly sat on the horizontal bar. I fell. In a vision I saw my mother in the distance, instructing her children how to ride the j-bar: "Remember, you can't sit! You will fall. Just let it take you." Ah, yes, now I remember! I struggled up, with the help of the unfortunate assistant boy, and regained my footing just in time to be pulled up the hill.

We decided that we would rather not see the lift people on the j-bar hill ever again, so got in line for the real chairlift. This was common ground, home sweet home, our level of professionality. I was feeling pretty good until we were about 2 people away from getting on the lift. For no reason at all, I fell. Standing in line. It was that pathetic.

Next we tried the 3 chair. It sounded perfect. 3 people, 3 spots on the chair. There was a mass of people waiting in line, so we picked a likely spot and slowly inched forward. It wasn't until 10 minutes later when we got closer that we realized the ropes were really close together. There was no way for 3 people over the age of 5 to get through together. It was then that we noticed the sign: Singles Only. Things began making sense. There were 3 lines, one for triples, one for doubles, and one for singles. All three of us were in the singles line but were not about to go to the back and start all over again. So instead of riding up together, we all went separately with those in the doubles line. Riding up with high school sweethearts who met a week ago and hearing all of their high school gossip isn't my idea of fun. But that's what I did. When we all got to the top of the hill we decided we didn't like that chair lift, or the mountain for that matter. It made us look bad.

My one consolation is that even if we saw the people from that mountain again, they wouldn't be able to recognize us. How I love goggles.

what I saw out my window

Monday Mom, Emily, and I were driving up to Canada for a friend's wedding. We drove into a blizzard north of Syracuse and were going 30 in some places it was so bad. In the distance we saw a car off the road, and a guy getting out the driver side door. Just when I was about to feel sorry for him, I saw that he was laughing. Yes, laughing. He was getting out to take a picture of his car in the snowbank.

There are 2 morals to this story:
1. Make the best out of every situation
2. Always carry a camera with you

Cookie Crumbs

I like construction men. I smile at them as I drive by. I sometimes even wave. I like feeling (however wrong I may be) that I have brightened their day by my presence. They look so forlorn slaving away, it makes me want to give them a cookie. So yesterday I took the opportunity to show my support when the opportunity came.

I was over at Natalie's house scrubbing her porch (I know, weird), and just a few yards away were three construction workers putting in a new sidewalk. Even though we were in the midst of our long, arduous project, we took it upon ourselves to bake them some fresh cookies along with lemonade. And so we did. We threw together some delicious-looking oatmeal raisin cookies and stuck them in the oven. During that time another worker had shown up, so we added another cup of lemonade to chill in the fridge. They were getting ready to leave, but our cookies made it out in time. Onto 4 small plates they went with 4 on each. Wow. This was really going to make their day.

We walked out bearing our gifts and offered them to the three workers lounging around the truck. Did we get smiles? Did we get a "Wow, you made fresh, amazing, delicious cookies just for us even though you were really busy?"? No. They didn't want any. Without even a 'thank you' to smooth it over. I could have thrown the lemonade in their faces. But I resisted. The only recompense was that the skinny dude actually doing the work took a plate. But COME ON! What man turns down fresh baked cookies?

So we limped back to the house with our injured prides and ate all the cookies ourselves.

We Shalt Not!

I just came across these pictures and must post them. They make me laugh.The story that goes along with these is as follows:
One day someone decided to make a meal called Kansas City Steak Strips. I could hardly stomache it, it was so gross. Emily and I agreed that it was an experience we should only have to endure once. So when Sarah anounced that she was making it again, we decided to go on strike. We did our hair really weird (somehow that was important), threw some strange accessories on, and came down stairs ready to make our statement. After taking pictures of course. We sat down at the table (trying not to laugh) and didn't eat a bite. I believe we were fully justified in our rebellion. It is really the worst meal ever invented, and it is the only time in my life that I refused to eat something. After all, I had already eaten it once! (Under normal circumstances I would have been forced to eat it, or disciplined, or both, but as it was, my wonderful father felt sympathy for us [and for himself I am sure] and let us get away with it.)Well, now you know. It is no longer a secret. I am an imperfect, rebellious, rude, disrespectful-of-my-sister's-culinary-creations, peevish child. I will simply blame it on the fact that it happened 4 years ago, and I'm sure it will never happen again (especially since we hid the recipe).

Tenderfoot

My poor feet. It all started on Sunday afternoon when we decided to hike Treman Park. After two miles of going uphill, we rested for a little bit at the top and watched the falls. And then when we left I only took a few steps before I was in pain. It felt like my toes were scrunched into the front of my shoes and I wasn't looking forward to the mile of stairs I had to go down. So, like any sensible person would do, I took off my sneakers and went barefoot. Mind you, this was my first time going barefoot this year. The stairs were all good as they were stone. Then came the trails. They actually weren't too bad for the most part. A lot of it was packed down earth, but there was also plenty of little rocks and roots and twigs. And then I stubbed my toe really bad and my toenail ripped. No matter. I just sang "I Will Get There" from the Prince of Egypt to keep me going. After a mile and a half of walking in bare feet, they were pretty sore, so I put my shoes back on, and I'm not sure which was worse. But I discovered that if ones feet are sore, it is better to run down the hill as fast as you can rather than to slowly plod down it. More pain at once is better than a little pain drawn out forever. And so I did "get there" and thought my worries were over.

But my feet weren't through with their tribulations. I was getting dead falls in the woods later that day to get a bonfire going and got stabbed in the foot with an inch long thorn. After bandaging up my wound, I went on collecting wood and got stabbed not once more, not twice more, but four more times with thorns. They went straight through my foam flip-flops and into my feet.

But besides having a bruise on my toe from stubbing it, and an indent from the thorn, my feet are alive and well and once more running all over our yard.

Trampoline Trouble

On Saturday we decided to put up our trampoline. The sun was out, it was warm, the snow was gone, perfect! Emily, Anna, and I went into the basement and found the skeloton of the trampoline and hauled all the peices out into the yard. We had it up in a few minutes (it went surprisingly fast) and put all of the rather rusty springs all around. Amazing how fast rust forms I thought. I could have sworn that last year the springs were completely rust-free. Oh well.

We searched for the mat and the spring cover but to no avail.

When Dad got home he told us that we had put the wrong springs in, that the rusty springs were from our old trampoline. He found the new springs in the barn and so we went around the trampoline again and took off all the old springs and put on the newer ones. The mat was also in the barn and he brought it out for us. Odd that it should be there.

After dinner we put the mat on, but opted not to jump because the mat was sagging on the ground. And then it dawned on me like a ray of light on a cloudy day: We had the wrong frame. Right springs, right mat, wrong frame. And so we took the whole thing down.

We found the correct frame in the barn where all the other "right" stuff was. And then I remembered putting it away in the barn last year with Dad, and I also remembered that we had done the exact same thing last year! I guess we didn't learn out lesson the first time. So we put up the right frame which took longer than the first one because it's a tighter fit, put the springs on for the third time that day, stretched the mat, put on the spring cover, and jumped for joy. Literally.

Moral of the story: If you have an old, rusty, worthless trampoline frame: throw it away!

My new jacket

Last time I was at Greek Peak, the zipper broke on my jacket. It also happened to be an incredibly cold day. Today Mom was going to take my jacket to the tailor to get it fixed, but decided to call and found out that it would cost $30-$50 dollors to fix the zipper! So instead she took me to TJ Max. I tried on a couple of coats that were okay, and we were going to head over to Dicks when Mom suggested we look at the women's sizes.
There I found the most amazing coat. It was above and beyond what I was expecting or looking for. It has those wrist/thumb things (I don't know what they're called), two layers, and vents and pockets everywhere. We got it for a really good deal too.
And inside there is a place for my ipod, my goggles, and my CHAPSTICK!!! It was truly made for me!

And to top things off, it is my favorite color, lime green. I think God put it there just for me. :)

Divine Prevention

I'm sure most of you heard, but a U.S. Airways plane crashed into the Hudson river today. Such an amazing story, and all 155 people survived. For story click here. Something that could have been so horrific turned into a miraculous story. Thank You God!!!

Sam's Buffett

After History Class today, Mom had to go to Sam's Club. I had snatched some money from dad's coin jar that morning so I could buy a soft pretzel, but turns out I didn't need it. We just ate at Sam's Club Eat n' Shop. I have never seen so many samples in my life! This is the list of what I ate for 'lunch.'

• assorted nuts
• Ghirardelli chocolate square
• pecan pie
• turkey and stuffing
• apple crisp with ice cream
• honey baked chicken wing
• 2 franks in a blanket (Anna's and mine)
• Cracker with cheese spread
• smoothie
• Belgian walnut chocolate fudge

We had so much sugar, Mom and I broke into the bag of baby carrots when we got to the car. :) But hey, it saved Dad a whole dollar!

Self Detective

Anna and I go to a history class on Fridays, and we have a bunch of teachers that rotate teachings us different aspects of the 1600's (what we're learning about). One of our teachers, Mr. T., told this story today about what happened to him this past week:

I don't remember if he forgot to lock his truck or what, but somehow his briefcase was stolen, complete with credit card, checkbook, wallet, cell phone, and important business papers. It's basically impossible to recover something like that, but Mr. T. did what he could. He canceled his credit card and called to cancel his cell phone. While he was on the phone with the girl canceling his phone, he asked if anyone had called from his phone in the past hour, and someone had. She wasn't supposed to, but she gave him all the numbers that the thief had called. There was a number that had been called four times, and it was a local number. Mr. T. looked up the number and it turned out to be a Chinese restaurant. He called the restaurant and they confirmed that someone had called them from that number, and he had ordered take out. The police met Mr. T. there and they went to the address the thief had given for the delivery and arrested the 14 year old kid who had stolen Mr. T's briefcase! So he got all his stuff back, and got the thief. :D

Criminals don't have to be geniuses...

Gloves of Conviction

I just finished reading Rachel's Tears, a book about Rachel Scott, the first victim of the Columbine shootings. She wrote a story that was found after her death that she called 'Gloves of Conviction'. It was something that happened to her while she was working at Subway one Sunday...


I was opening that day for work. On Sundays, no other employees come in until 11:30, which meant I had two hours of work to do by myself and then open the store for another hour alone with customers.

Usually no one comes in until about 11:30 on a Sunday morning anyway, so I always have plenty of time on my hands. I couldn't believe how windy and cloudy it was. The cold of the breeze alone could bring you to a chill.

It was 10:00 so I flipped the switch for the open sign and unlocked the doors. It must have only been five minutes after that when I heard the doorbell ringing, telling me I had a customer. I went out front and began to put the gloves on, ready to make the first sandwich of the day.

I looked up and saw a woman who must have been in her late forties. She was wearing several layers of clothes. They were torn and dirty. Her face was dark from dirt. She was shivering, and then she began to cough in an almost uncontrollable manner. She looked up at me after she was all right and she gave me such a warm smile.

"What can I do for you, Ma'am?" I asked.

She looked at me pleasantly and said, "Oh, I was just wondering if you happen to know what time the buses were coming. I have been waiting out in the cold for two hours. You think they wouldn't be so late, especially on a Saturday."

I felt bad when I told her it was actually Sunday. She looked at me with such embarrassment and shock.

"Oh no," she said. "I need to get back down town. I thought it was Saturday. Do you mind if I just sit here for a while until I figure out what to do?"

I told her no problem, and she sat at the table in the far corner. As I looked at her and the situations more carefully, I realized she must have been so poor, and maybe even homeless. She was dressed in the dingiest clothes that hadn't been washed in a while. She had a snug, winter hat on, three layers of flannel, baggy pants, worn-through tennis shoes, and gloves. Her gloves were turned inside out. They had fringes coming off all sides.

I felt right then and there that I should have made her a sandwich free of charge. Then I should talk to her, telling her that whatever she did, God loved her and wanted her to trust him and fall into his arms once again. I knew where all of this was coming form. I knew God was giving me these words and asking me to go talk to her. But what if...what if...the usual questions and doubts about why I shouldn't.

I went back to work, trying to forget about it, and hoping she would leave soon. My next customer came about an hour after that. She was a woman in her early thirties. She was well dressed in what looked like a work outfit. She had her pulled up nicely, and she was laced with perfume.
I made her some sandwiches, and we were at the cash register when she asked me how long the other woman had been sitting there. I told her about an hour.

"Did she get anything to eat?" The lady asked me.

I said no, and told her about the buses. Then the lady asked me if I wouldn't mind making one more sandwich. I looked at her and smiled.

I never made a sandwich with such happiness and at the same time guilt. I told the lady no charge, and handed her a bag of chips to go with it. She thanked me and then went to the other woman.

She handed her the food and began to talk to her. They must have talked for two hours before I saw them leave. As I was cleaning the tables and feeling bad for not talking to the woman myself, I noticed that she had left her gloves.

I told God that I was sorry for disobeying him. He told me something that will always give me boldness in these situations, something that will never make me hesitate to tell others of him:

"You feel like she missed something because you lost your boldness, but she didn't lose her opportunity. The other woman is sharing with her right now and she will not lose out on me. You lost. You passed up the chance to gain something. You just let a wonderful flame go past you and into the hands of another. Let this be know, child, when you do not follow through with the boldness and knowledge I have given you, more than one person is affected by it. You are as well as they."

Of Farriers and Vegans

Kurt has been our farrier for several years, so we called him maybe a month ago to schedule an appointment. He said he might have to have surgury, but wouldn't know until the next week and so would call us back. Another week went by and he called to say he would have to have the surgury and wouldn't be able to farrier anymore. So we began a search for another farrier. We got a number from a tack and feed store for another farrier, Kirk. We called Kirk, he didn't answer his phone. After another week or so he finally called us back and said he would be booked for at least another week or two, but he could give us his friends number who was also a farrier who could do it sooner, his name was Kurt. The horses feet were getting pretty bad, so we called the second Kurt who was a different guy from the first Kurt, and he came Monday and did the horses feet. Finally! It was a little confusing with all of the Kurts and Kirks, but we got it figured out, and the horses feet got all nice and manicured. :)

On another note, I was supposed to cook dinner last night, we were having a couple and their little girl over for dinner and I was going to make BBQ'd chicken, cottage cheese salad, and three bean salad. That is until they told us that they were vegan. Hmmm, I guess chicken and cottage cheese aren't the best things to make for dinner. I looked through my entire cook book, and I couldn't find a thing that was totally vegan that would make a main meal. I realized that just about everything has either butter, milk, or meat in it. Mom decided to make stir fry even though it was a hot day and fruit salad, so it all worked out and was pretty yummy. Thankfully they told us before they came!

Worn Out Shoes

This is what I did yesterday: I got up (surprise), and would nave eaten breakfast, except I wanted granola and there was none, so I had to make it. Then I took a shower, did the horse chores, went strawberry picking, swam at Hope Lake, ate lunch, washed and sliced strawberries, made jam out of strawberries, finished my school for the year, ate yummy strawberry salad, and rode horses.

And I also walked the soles off of my feet, literally. We had come back from our ride and were leading the horses back to the pasture, when the sole of my boot came off. It was very interesting walking down the wet driveway with a heel on my right foot, and a leather slipper on the other foot. Yes, my sock got soaked. I don't know how old those shoes are, someone gave them to us, but they look like Anne of Green Gables wore them. :) Maybe it's time I got some other boots. Just a thought.
Out feet at the lake: Emily's, Anna's, Teresa's and mine.

From Tarnished to New!

All week we have been Spring Cleaning, so one of my jobs was to polish the silver candle holders, and what a difference it made! Dosn't the one on the right look like new! That was after I had polished it. I was thinking about how Jesus finds us all tarnished and dusty, and then he takes us and polishes, and washes us clean from all the dirt and grime that is in our lives. I thought is was a cool analogy. :)

Confused Weather

We went to a picnic at a lake yesterday afternoon and had every kind of weather except snow. It was sprinkling on our way there, but by the time we got out of the car it had cleared up and was pleasantly warm. Some of us went out on the boat and then came back to eat. Just when everyone had gotten their food and were sitting down to eat it, it began to rain. It wasn't so bad since someone had rented a pavilion, but it just kept raining harder and harder. It was coming in at an angle and the wind was blowing really hard, and it was raining really hard, and it was thundering really loudly. Everyone was getting soaked and food was flying off plates, and there really wasn't anywhere to sit where it would be dry. It rained for at least a good fifteen minutes before I was freezing, so I ran the few feet to our car and was soaked by the time I got in. I got my sweater and my beach towel and ran back to eat my soggy hamburger...yeah, not appealing.

The rain was just letting up when I heard another crack, but it wasn't thunder, it was the lovely sound of a car smashing into another car, and that other car happened to be Sarah's Honda that was parked right by the pavilion. There was obviously a turn in the road and you're supposed to be going 5mph, but this car didn't turn, and it wasn't going 5mph, and it back-ended Sarah's car. The car that hit Sarah's was all smashed up in front, but amazingly Sarah's only had a couple of scratches! It was in park and skidded several feet across the grass when it was hit, but didn't hit into anything else. And no one was hurt, except the first car. So that was interesting.

And then it got really hot and we I played frisbee and volley ball and then went tubing. The water was cold, but it felt so good! So that was my interesting day yesterday.

Finding vanilla...

It's always interesting when you bake and don't know where any of the ingredient are. Today Anna and I went to Betsy's house (baby Emily's mom) to babysit instead of her bringing her here. Betsy left a list of things to do just in case we got bored while Emily was sleeping, and one of the things was to make a dessert. I reverted to chocolate chip cookies since I didn't think I could go wrong with those. I got the butter out to soften found the flour, sugar, salt, eggs, everything...except the vanilla extract. I searched high and lo, in every cupboard, on every shelf. They had about five different almond extracts, and orange extract and a few others, but no vanilla. How can you not have vanilla? I even went down into the scary basement and looked through the freezer down there, but no vanilla extract.

I decided I'd use almond since they had an abundance of that, and then I saw that it also called for walnuts. And no, I couldn't find those either. I though we could live without the walnuts, and we'd see how the almond worked out.

Betsy happened to come home early while I was still in the midst of making the cookies, and found me both. The vanilla was in a dish soap bottle in the way back of a cupboard, and the walnuts were in the upstairs freezer!
The cookies actually turned out pretty good, besides the fact that I burned the first batch...

My life

Today I get to go to a Jim Brickman concert! If you people don't know who he is then let me explain. He is an amazing piano player! Since I am a piano player I am really excited. I love going to concerts! They are so much fun. I am going with my older sister Sarah!

Yesterday Abigail and I rode horses! It was very exciting because the horse I was riding felt like being a peeve. So he almost scraped me off when he ran me under an apple tree! My arm was all scraped up. Then we were running down a field and he got really excited and started bucking! It was very painful. But I rode it out. So now my legs are really sore. :)
We had art class today! I had a lot of trouble with my drawing. Oh well.