Ivory Soap meets Microwave

 

Since we are all working to fight off the winter blues this January, last night for entertainment we put a bar of ivory soap in the microwave for 60-80 seconds.  The result is this billowy, puffy, cloudy form.   Pretty interesting.    Who knows what we will do tomorrow?  Any ideas?

 

All the Better to Smack You With My Pretty

Yesterday was my scheduled day to work the morning at Will's preschool.  It was quite a fun day.  Those little buggers keep me smiling.  Of course, they also try my patience, but mostly they amuse me.

Some days we rotate around the rooms for "center time" and on this day I was in charge of the Language Arts room.  In the science room they were experimenting with "Sink and Float" so I carried this into my room with rhyming words.  Great fun.  We were sitting on the floor sorting our -ink and -oat words when it happened.  One little boy, we'll call him T, put his hand on my hand.  "Oh how sweet." I think to myself.  "He is really engaged and enjoying this."  T looked up at me and said, "You have OLD hands."

Well sweet little T, this comes as no news to me.  I have often thought my hands looked like my Mom's even when I should have had "young hands".   My veins have always been close to the surface especially in my hands and I guess them are getting even more pronounced as I age.   I can vividly remember in high school looking down at the veins on my right hand and thinking they almost spell the word "shy".  The -s is a stretch but the -hy are spot on.

My Mom often hid her hands in photographs because she thought they were ugly.  She had one finger  tip that was misshapen because of a run in with a softball when she was in nursing school.  Apparently her hospital was next to a school and some kids were playing ball.  Even though it was against the rules she hopped the fence to play.  In an attempt to catch a fly ball with no glove, her middle finger was broken.  She was so afraid of getting into trouble she endured the pain of it healing incorrectly and never told a soul.

Thirteen years ago for Kevin's and my wedding, Mom splurged and had artificial nails put on her fingers.  She loved them and thought they made her hands look more attractive.  She continued to garden, scythe, knit and dig in the dirt as much as possible and continued getting those nails filled and painted up until she passed away.  She claimed to never have had any problems with those nails breaking or splitting except for the time one caught on fire as she was putting another log into the fireplace.

One redeeming factor also happened at preschool however, later on in the day not one but TWO children in my room drew pictures of hearts and wrote their names in it then asked how to spell my name and proceeded to write it in too because they said they loved me.  Old hands and all.

PS

Oops I forgot to include these pictures of my assistant working diligently by my side in the kitchen.

 

The explanation that goes with this photograph is I turned my head for a few moments and he was able to knead the dough with his belly.  It's hard to find good help these days.  Or at least ones that conform to universal codes of cleanliness.

Frozen Days call for Cinnamon Rolls

 

 

When the frozen temperatures make the windows look like this, Will and I decided to make the kitchen look like this.    That's right....homemade cinnamon rolls.  Eat 'em and weep baby.

Origami Master My Eldest Son Is

Here is a look at Ethan's collection of Star Wars Origami.   Notice Jabba hiding in the top left.  For some reason there seems to be a plethora of Han Foldos.  I guess my love for Harrison Ford has rubbed off on him.  The kid's got taste.  He is way better than Luke Skywalker.  Or at least I have always thought so.

May the force be with you.  

Frasier Fir Rocks

We forked over a few extra bucks this year for the soft, plush needles of the Frasier Fir.  I must say it is the best Christmas tree there is.  Quite possibly why it is also more expensive than most.  But it is well worth it.

Check it out Grandma.  Your favorite. 

Apparently Stink at Origami I do

Ethan has been enjoying star wars origami lately.  He and a buddy at school have been making them during recess.  "Awesome." we say and encourage him to continue.

Fast forward spending a gift card at B&N bookstore, we spy a somewhat more complicated book.  "Sure.  Go ahead.  We can handle it." 

Somewhere in my brain I have a section that totally misjudges my abilities.  It thinks, "Yeah. I can do that."  When really it should think, "Let's leave that to the professionals."

I tried the Millenium Falcon.  Fail.  I tried the pod racer.  Fail.  I tried Chewbacca.  Fail.

Finally I buckled down.  I was fresh faced, a Saturday morning (I have my best energy level).  I had not one but two cups of tea.  I had eaten a healthy oatmeal/craisin breakfast.  This was it.  My best, and possibly, only chance for success.

I spent two hours at the kitchen table watching a you tube video and referencing the book.

Oh the sweet smell of success I have.