To each her own

Above my kitchen sink are long open shelves made of wood that Dan robbed from the barn when we were remodeling the Woodlawn kitchen. Smack in the middle of those shelves, right above the sink sits four rows of drinking of glasses. We've got all kinds--a few leftover from my wedding registry, colored ball jars, IKEA "we need more glasses" cheap ones, and all the Preakness glasses Dan gets for the girls each year at Christmas. 

We've amassed quite a collection, so you'd think when a person goes to the sink at lunch to grab herself a glass of water, she'd have a whole plethora of glasses to choose from. 

Think again.

My kids have drinking glass issues.

Need some orange juice for breakfast? Grab a glass off the shelf. Come back fifteen minutes later for 3 tablespoons of water to wash down your vitamin? Heaven forbid you use the same defiled glass! Grab another! They're all right there! Easy access! Just prop open the sink cupboard. Stand tippy-toed on the bottom shelf and pull one more glass down from the shelf. There are so many to choose from! Need a morning snack and a glass of milk? Well those glasses from breakfast are disgusting by now. No civilized child would drink from such nonsense. The only polite thing to do would be to get another clean glass from the shelf. 

Maybe, if they rinsed out their glasses and put them in the dish rack right below the shelf, it wouldn't be such a big deal. Or maybe if they opened up the dishwasher right beside the sink and put them in the top rack, it wouldn't be such a big deal. Or maybe it would. Because at the end of every day I'm staring at a rack full or sink full of kind of but not really dirty glasses.

Then, this simple picture from SmallThings popped into my head and I thought, I HAVE FOUND MY SOLUTION.

A few moments on Amazon, a quick trip through the Target "hook" aisle (which is particularly extensive this time of year) and now we have the solution to the using-fifty-bajillion-glasses-in-a-day-problems. 

On the kitchen island, directly behind the sink I hung four "command strip" hooks (so I wouldn't damage the paint on my island in case I decided this wasn't where I wanted them.) On each hook now hangs a coleman camp mug* for each child, with their initial blazoned across the front in gold. If it has a "B" on it, Birdy assumes it's hers. (Note: This applies to all things. Not just mugs.) Big E for Emma. Little e for Elizabeth. M for Mary. The mugs are right at their level. And they fit practically perfectly under the lip of the butcher block counter. 

Need a drink? Grab YOUR cup. Rinse it out! Stick it back on your hook! Need a drink again? Grab YOUR cup. Rinse it out! Stick it back on your hook! Drink until you can drink no more. Just grab your cup!

People. This is working. I am getting to the end of the day and my dishwasher isn't just full of glasses. Even better they are doing it without my even having to ask which means I have reached success level.  

My work here is done.

Power Balls : A healthier after-school snack

After tiring of seeing my kids subsist on nutella and toast as their go-to "wander into the kitchen looking for something easy to make" after school (and in our case between school) snack, I decided to revisit an old favorite recipe I haven't made in quite awhile. 

This recipe for power balls was actually the first thing I had in-print with the beloved and sadly long-gone Wondertime magazine. The original name for this treat, and what my family calls them--is"fiber balls", but I think we can all agree that name is mildly unappealing. Of course the fancy photographers at Wondertime were able to seriously cute-ify this handful of yumminess, but I think from the ingredient list, you'll get the idea. 

What I love about this recipe is that it's packed with good things, has tons of flexibility and is yummy enough that my kids will gobble them up. They are the perfect thing to toss in lunch boxes, have in the fridge for a quick after-school snack, or help everyone make it from lunch until dinner. 

And, they have replaced the nutella-binge going on this house. 

Though I forgot to count when I made them yesterday, you'll get a good 3-dozen from this recipe, I believe. Wrapped tightly, they freeze well if you want to store some away for another time. I like to use my small cookie dough scooper to get even-sized balls and then roll them by hand. 

So freshen up the snack list or the lunchbox staples and add these to the list! 





a little act of kindness

Sometimes there's that little act of kindness you've been meaning to do for months and you just needed that extra nudge. Thanks to Kleenx®Brand for the nudge I needed for this act of kindness below. *

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When we moved from our old house at Thomas Run one of the things I knew would be the hardest to do was to move away from our neighbor Mr. Dorsey. Mr. Dorsey was born in our house and grew up there but eventually moved next door onto his own smaller piece of property.

We became close over the years. Though he was stubborn and strong as an ox in his 70-plus years, we all still kept a close eye on him. He'd never ask for help (and when he did, you knew he really needed it) so Dan--cut from the same kind of cloth--would look for opportunities to help him out.

The very first time we met him he told me, "Just so you know, I walk laps around the pastures early in the morning, sometimes in the dark--so don't shoot me!" He used to drive a milk truck and always keeps milk truck hours. When his bull would get out and end up in our backyard, I'd call him up and laugh about it--though Mr. Dorsey was never happy about it.  When his cow would show up in side yard, I'd walk her home with a stick and put her back in the fence. 

When we first planted our garden, he'd pulled out his plow and ripped up the earth. He told us about the huge tree in the front yard and how his father had remembered it being that big and how old it must have been, the oldest in the valley. He worried about people robbing him and hated when the raccoons started getting in to his grain. He hoarded tractors and tractor parts and round bales and had two antique trucks buried in the brambles behind the falling down stone silo. But you couldn't move them or take them--because he might need the parts some day.

He said we were the best neighbors he'd ever had.

So when we moved to Woodlawn, I knew leaving Mr. Dorsey was going to be one of the hardest parts. 

We still see him. I still check in on him. When I drive by on a Thursday and he's out on his riding mower, I know everything's all right. 

When I see him now, he hugs me and gives me a big wet cough-drop-sticky kiss on the lips and squeezes my arm. He asks if Dan is busy at work and tells me he's getting ready to retire from driving the school bus. He tells me about any houses that are for sale in the valley and how I need to convince my dad to buy one for me, because we need to come back. 

I've tried a few times to get him over here for dinner. But he always puts me off and instead says, "just bring me some of your oatmeal raisin cookies. I think about those every since you brought them to me that one time." He doesn't ask for much, but he does ask for cookies. 

Every time I drive by I get that little twinge of regret that I've haven't shown up at his door with cookies since we've moved. The kids remind me often. And then I forget. And then weeks have gone by. 

But I finally found my reason this past week. An opportunity to do an act of kindness, even something small--and I knew exactly what my act of kindness would be and who would be on the receiving end.

When the kids walked into the kitchen and there were oatmeal raisin cookies in the oven they knew what I was doing. I'm pretty sure someone said, "It's about time, mom." When Mr. Dorsey gets home from driving the bus tonight, they'll be something waiting outside the door for him. 

So if you're putting off that little act of kindness, that special thing you've been meaning to do, here's my nudge--do it. It doesn't take long. It doesn't take much. And it feels so good. 

A big thank you to Kleenex®Brand for the push to do this small act of kindness. For giving us a few extra goodies to pack in our basket for Mr. Dorsey, including their cute little packs of tissues that I know he'll be tucking the car seat (or school bus seat!) beside him. Thanks for making this small act of care so easy to do. Here's hoping you'll join the "Share the Kleenex Care" movement and be inspired by them to do your own small act of care. Even just the smallest gesture (like passing a tissue) to a friend, stranger, neighbor--that needs it, has a big impact.

*This post is part of a sponsorship with Kleenex Brand and Socialstars. 

weekending : sad face + sheep

From the weekend: 

Testing out my sheep print on some different things. I'm liking this fabric tote. Needs a little something else, but it's definitely taking shape. 

I broke my daughter's heart apparently. I wouldn't give her a yogurt stick. 

Then, I broke it all over again, when I wouldn't let her spray the piano keys with window cleaner. 

My middle child ate more pomegranate seeds than should be legal. And then she ate some more. (A simple how-to de-seed a pomegranate here.)

And we celebrated the birthday of a very special two-year-old with a crazy cake overflowing with animals. And sprinkles. (try to ignore that mess behind-the-scenes, please.)

Happy Monday, friends.

More soon...xo.


hello! + an apple bread recipe you must make

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Can we just pretend for a little bit, that I didn't take a massive break from this space for the last chunk of summer? Because fall feels like it's here and I just want to talk about apple cake. I still have plans to rewind and catch up on the last weeks of summer with all of you. So many changes around here that I just needed some time to get my bearings. I'll be honest, this summer was a tough one--packed so full and leaving me feeling like I couldn't catch my breath as we plummeted from one thing to the next until I found myself staring at the last days before the ring of the school bell. 

But as my husband (and Wendell Berry) says, we'll soon find our rhythm. And I'm starting to see that happen.

In the meantime, this weekend was good to me and my family. Yes, there were double soccer games on Saturday. But there was also rain, and long afternoons in the kitchen. And used books sales. And lazing about on the couch. And luxurious sleeping in.

And apple bread. 

If you've been reading my blog for awhile, you know that if I'm making this, then fall is most definitely in full swing. So I like to think of this apple bread as a precursor to fall. It means fall is in the air. It means cool nights--that just might require the down comforter, if you're lucky. 

This recipe couldn't be simpler. At the top of my recipe card it naively says that this is a recipe for "Apple Bread". But really, this is definitely a cake. A very, very good cake with a crispy, flaky top with moist (I hate that word), soft, apple-cinnamon-y insides. If you have apples, I'm confident you'll have everything else you need to make this recipe in your pantry.  And bonus--it makes two loaves--one to eat, one to share. My favorite kind of recipe. 

So hello. How are you? I miss this place. Make some apple bread, will you?


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Apple Bread (eats more like cake)

  • 1 1/4 cups vegetable oil
  • 2 cups granulated sugar
  • 3 eggs
  • 2 teaspoons vanilla
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
  • 2 teaspoons cinnamon
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 3 cups flour
  • 1/2 cup chopped pecans (optional)
  • 3 cups chopped, peeled apples

Combine oil, sugar, eggs, vanilla, and mix well. Sift dry ingredients and add to wet ingredients. Fold in apples and nuts. Pour into two greased + floured (or parchment-lined) 9x5 loaf pans. Take for 60 minutes at 350 degrees. Turn off oven and leave for an additional 5 minutes or until loaves test done.