Now that she's back in the atmosphere...

Well, I'm back. And boy, what a trip...

It was an adventure. I relaxed. I ran around. Had some nice late night talks curled up at the kitchen table with a mug of tea. Had some crazy days spent hurrying here and there, never staying in the same place for more than a couple hours. I hung out with old friends, feeling like family. I met crazy awesome new people. I spent about 50 hours of my life on a train and am now pretty familiar with Amtrak...there and back I had a lay over in Chicago, and so was privileged to roam around the beautiful Windy City with 3 amazing dudes.

I left with little expectations, hoping to maybe just quiet my soul, listen to God, and visit my friends...and if God happened to nudge me in any direction, that would be awesome too.
I returned with a lot to think about.
While I was there opportunities arose. Internships came up. Chances to shadow at salons. As well as missions opportunities.

And ever since I got back a feeling has been growing in me...something that's always been there that now is spreading. I've never really been able to describe it, and it's frustrating. But the other night I was having a conversation with one of my best friends. One of those conversations that fall under the "If I don't get out of here soon I'll be stuck here for the rest of my life, that I don't know what I'm doing with anyways" category...I'm sure you have those all the time...

We talked about jobs. We talked about monotonous life. We talked about restlessness...We talked about senioritis.


Finally I tried to put this feeling that I had into words and it came out like this:

"...Do you ever get that feeling like...let's see if I can describe it - 

like, you were made for something more? That growing up, finishing school and getting a job and routine just wasn't what was intended for you? That you were created, not for something mundane and monotonous, but for something truly breathtaking and extraordinary? Cause...that seems to be how I feel. And like that desire for the extraordinary is trying to claw it's way out...like it's suffocating at the thought of never getting to see the sun...or maybe I just have to much of an imagination...?"

So...yep. That's where I'm at right now...perhaps this was a nudge in a direction...guess we'll see. 

The Bean*

*(I have now seen The Bean, one of Chicago's great works of modern architecture I am told...but secretly I'm pretty sure it's an idol to the Americans love of coffee...see for yourself. ;) )

This is What LOVE Feels Like

Today on FB, one of my friends - an avid blogger by day and super classy lady all the time, whose blog (Out of My Alleged Mind) you can find HERE! - posted this link to one of the many blogs she's found and follows. Maybe it's the fact that I've known a few people with cancer. Maybe it's because I know how attached people can be to their hair, and the significance that cutting it can have. Or maybe...I'm just human and tender, but something in this story made my heart ache and my eyes water. (I've always told my close friends that if they ever got cancer and lost their hair, I would cut mine too.)

This is What LOVE Looks Like:

imperfect prose on thursdays: the day i cut my dreadlocks

This is my Therapy

"And you're kept in an open cage, So you're free to leave or stay.Sometimes you get confused, Like there's a hint I am trying to give you."

"talking bird" by Death  Cab For Cutie

Poorly drawn picture...by me.

I believe I've mentioned before about how much I love road trips, and have joked about having a touch of gypsy blood in me. I've expressed my restlessness of being in one place for too long (even though I always come back home.) I've talked about my longing for adventure and how I've made due by trekking through the rain and creating crazy story plots inside my head. 
And so...I find myself yet again feeling those stirring desires in my heart to go on an adventure and travel far far away...
I thought about it for a while, weighed my options, bounced thoughts and opinions off of close friends, prayed, and drank more than my outrageously large quota of coffee. 


The fact is, I still have no job. Let me reword that. I have no stationary job. No salon to call 'home', and not because there's a lack of salons or opportunities. When the Velvet Touch and I parted ways, somewhere in me, I felt peace. It was an odd and unexpected thing to feel upon losing a job. 
An opportunity for a stylist position in another salon arose, and I pursued it, but something about it just didn't feel right. It's hard to explain, but I couldn't shake it. Nothing came from this pursued position. But here's the beauty of it. My job doesn't have to be stationary! I can take it with me wherever I go...which means I can travel :) 


And so, after some deliberation, I have decided to go on my adventure. Finally. 
I have nothing that's holding me here. I have no salon to report to. No major responsibilities to look after. No relationships tying me down. So, I ask myself, why not? 


I've got a lot on my mind, and I'm a curious soul. Travel is a therapy to me. Staring out a window, watching the world pass by at blurring speeds, my mind seems to process things clearly. And so, I've purchased a train ticket, and next Sunday I begin my journey. To where? The Midwest. Kansas City, Missouri. Why? Because I have good friends out there (They're in the middle of an adoption, check them out and see how you can help contribute HERE!), and they belong to a church that I've been wanting to visit.


And so, I'm running away. Because I can. 

"I never thought I'd be driving through the country just to drive

With only music and the clothes that I woke up in

I never thought I'd need all this time alone it goes to show

I had so much yet I had need for nothing

But you

This is just therapy

Let's call it what it is

(Not what we were)

With a death-grip on this life always transitioning

This is just therapy

Cause you won't take my calls

and that makes God the only one who's left here listening to me

Letting it all sink in

It's good to feel a sting now and again

I hope it's one less woeful thing there is to fight through

Forgetting it all begin

Fresh paper and nice expensive pen

The past can not subtract a thing from what I might do

For you

Unless that's what I let it do

Loneliness and solitude are two things not to get confused

Cause I spend my solitude with you

I gather all the questions of the things I just can't get straight

And I answer them the way I guess you'd do

Cause this is my therapy

Cause you're the only one that's listening to me

This is my therapy

Let's call it what it is not what we were

With a death-grip on this life that's in transition

This is my therapy

Cause you won't hear me out

and that makes God the only one who's left here listening"

I tend to sing this when I start to get restless and need a road trip...so, on a pretty regular basis.

Hello, my name is Emily, and I'm an addict.

"And on the eighth  day, God created coffee."

Ok,  I'm not a crazy addict. I just have a bit of a caffeine problem... When I was little, I adored the scent of my mother's steaming morning coffee and would always try a sip, only to crinkle my nose and pretend that it tasted good. She drank it black, no sugar. And to a four year old, that's an intense way to be introduced to the stuff. As I got older, and persevered through the bitterness, I started to acquire a taste for the dark liquid. I started drinking it because I liked it. And now....without a couple cups in the a.m. I go through the day in a fog, feeling like a zombie with eyes on fire. It's been years since I've experienced a caffeine buzz, or remember what it's like. Now, I drink it to feel more human, without it I am grumpy, tired, and walk around squinting my eyes because they feel like they are going to burn out of my head...and because it still tastes so good!

And now, I am going to be an enabler. Forgive me.
 I have a recipe to share with all of my caffeine dependent, bloggy friends, I found it in the food section of my local newspaper. Super easy, reasonably cheap. Serves about four.

Winter Spice cafe' latte

• 3/4 cup of ground coffee
• 1 tsp. ground cinnamon (or more, depending on your taste)
• 3 cups cold water
• 1 can (14 oz.) Sweetened condensed milk
• whipped cream

Mix the cinnamon and the ground coffee together. Brew coffee as usual - I use a french press most of the time, but the brewing method isn't specific.

Pour sweetened condensed milk into a large coffee pot or a 1 1/2 quart pitcher. Add freshly brewed coffee and stir until thoroughly blended.

Pour into eclectic cafe' mugs and top with whipped cream. Sprinkle some extra cinnamon on top if you feel really fancy. Serve immediately.

I suppose you could also turn this into a frappacino-like drink if you were to let the brew cool then add to a blender filled with around 2c. ice cubes and a splash of milk or cream. Then top it with whatever decadence you desire.

I made this last night and it tasted like a coffee house concoction. That is to say, pretty darn good. REALLY rich though, and VERY sweet. Definitely a dessert type of drink. Feel free to play around with coffee::sweetened milk ratios, as well as different spices like nutmegs or cloves. I  think I'd use more coffee and less milk next time.

Let me know if you try it!

Keep Calm and Carry On

So. Here I am again....

Last Monday I went into my salon to work for the last time. If my client hadn't have been a personal friend I probably wouldn't have gone in at all and asked them to give the client to another stylist. They had let me know the Thursday prior. The economy just isn't supporting the both of us. And for an up-and-coming to be sitting, waiting, in a salon for perspective clients when 99.9998% of walk-ins are already regulars to another stylist there, well it's not really helping to build the clientele. 

So, I'm on the hunt. Again. While I am looking, I am running a small salon out of my home. It'd be stupid not to, seeing as I have all the equipment in my living room, except for a legit salon sink...but someday, maybe ;)

Even though I am technically jobless right now, I am strangely peaceful, and once again am reminded of how blessed I am with the friends God has given me. One by one, as I let them know about my situation, they each responded with different ways of comfort. 

A group of us went to a midnight movie premiere and giggled together for the three hours that we sat waiting. One called me within seconds of receiving the "I've lost my job" text, and even though the conversation was short, it was comforting to me that she cared enough to hop right on the phone to see how I was. And my best friend showed up at my house with a tall thermos of Carmel Coffee and we spent the afternoon, and some of the evening, around my kitchen table just talking about life.

I decided to not start looking for a job until after Thanksgiving. Taking the time to let it sink in, form a game plan, enjoy the holiday, food, and friends, and spend some quality time with my brother, Oliver, who was home from college for a few days. 

We went to The Muppet Movie the night it came out with a couple of our friends, we let our little brother tag along too, and BTW...it's hilarious. Go see it.

Yesterday I went over to a friends house and arranged a resume (this was actually fun!) and I realized that I love words....and that I had done much more with my talents than I had thought.

I also found out yesterday that one of my dear friends lost her job, too, so I called her up and we talked for a while. Our circumstances seem to parallel each other and I joke that this way it's easier for us to relate to one another. 

So, for now I'm trying to keep my head up, 'keep the dream alive', keep calm and carry on (as my British ancestors would say)...and all that. Giving up is not my name. My name is Industrious. My name is Diligence. My name is Perseverance. My name is Emily, and I'll be your stylist today. 

Look out world. Look out artsy industries. Here I come....again....

Just call me a starving artist

I've hit an imaginary wall. My spirits are low. My clients are few. My paychecks...nearly non-existent. They told me that starting out would be hard, and I believed them, but it's never felt that way till now. The past three weeks I have felt useless, something I despise greatly. My hands have been idle as I watch my people doing what I love all around me, instead I sweep hair and wash towels.

It's funny to me, how independent I have become. Yet, I find my dependency on God to have grown equally. It's very hard for me to look at life when it gets like this and then to look at God and say, alright, I trust you to provide and take care of me, and to wholeheartedly believe it without any doubts in my mind. I'm not a control freak, but there are some things,( like clients, income, etc.) that could I control them you bet your aunt's hat I would. The fact that I have no control over how many people will sit in my chair this week keeps me uneasy, and thankful for those who do continue to keep coming back.

Surrendering is hard for me. I have always been a DIYS, take care of myself, kinda girl. And even though I've seen and experienced God's provision first hand...it's still difficult to say HELP. So, I guess I'm calling this drought of sorts another lesson in trusting and depending.

Thanks to all of you who return to me time and again, you keep my spirits afloat.
And thanks, God, for being so faithful when it's hard for me to be just that.

And off they go....

Today is the day. My little bro left for college early this a.m. with my parents, leaving me behind with the younger sibs for the weekend. It was weird to see his room become a mass of clothing and belongings, to watch it turn from chaos, to organization, to...emptiness. I'm jealous of his adventure, but not so happy that he's left me here.

My best friend isn't coming home for dinner tonight....

I know that the rest of my family will still be here, and so will my friends...but, to be honest, it's not the same at all. I am in a state of melancholy.

I'm not worried about him at all. Try as I did to corrupt his brilliant mind, he turned out just fine. The only thing he may be in danger of is hiding in his room for weeks on end, studying....

I will miss our late nights of watching Disney movies, Monty Python, RSC, Pushing Daisies....

I will miss our random musical duets, making up fake lyrics to songs we don't understand.

I'll miss his strange humor, and how well it plays off mine.

Movie quoting during awkward moments....pie making at midnight....

...I won't miss the video game music....(sorry bro.)

But, he's left, and along with him go a couple of our good friends. I'm excited to see how they've changed and grown when they all come home.

;)

Being Still, and Knowing...

Well hello there, land of bloggers. I come to you with a mind overflowing with wonderings. Within the past two weeks I have found myself to be befuddled with emotions, and thoughts. My brother graduated last weekend and will be leaving us in a couple months. I will be sad losing him to college, we are very close and I will miss his humor and company greatly. There is friend drama, as always, that leaves me confused and drained as I try to figure out where exactly I stand in all of it....And work....always work.

I was blessed with an amazing imagination and love of dreaming, but sometimes I wish I could just stop thinking. I've shared my frustrations and confusion with some of my closest friends.

Feeling vulnerable, and sharing what's really on my mind is not something I'm used to. I have this rather dangerous tendency to pretend that everything is fine on my end. Shutting emotions and troubles away in a box deep in the back of my mind. But I can only talk to my friends so much before I feel like I am vomiting the same conversations on them over and over and over! (Sorry for that mental picture....although, if you are picturing physical letters of the alphabet raining down on my friends, then by all means laugh...)

*thank you everyone who has visited me at the salon in the past two weeks, btw. You guys are awesome!

With all this rolling around in my head, becoming tangled and more confusing as it gets analyzed over and over, I have found myself mentally writing psalms, drinking way more coffee than is probably healthy(which probably isn't slowing my brain down at all) and spending vast amounts of time sitting on a very special couch that is living on my porch. This couch is a glider that has been around circa 1930? maybe earlier. As far as I know it has spent most of it's life rocking back and forth on the porch of the Upper Clubhouse, an ancient building in the middle of Harriman state park in upstate New York, until two years ago when the owners of one of the appartments in the upper clubhouse decided they wanted it thrown away. WHAT! But you can't have camp without the glider!

We came back to camp one evening to discover the huge wrap around porch empty of this nostalgic piece. My brother, who works as part of the maintenance team, informed us of it's relocation to the dumpster. I was upset. I loved this glider! I was ready and willing and trying to convince my family to drive down there and load it up in our van and drive home with it in the dead of night! We totally would've been able to get it home and be back before 4am....if we left 'now'.... My father wasn't really thrilled with my spontaneous plans for adventure, and told me to let it go...but with my ardent arguing I had planted ideas in the mind of my mother. So....we went to bed, I slept in the kitchen...or was it the common room....and woke up to find that my father's mind had been changed... So, my mother and I prepared for a quick escape. We loaded up the skeleton of the glider, much to the pleasure of some of the older camp members who had also grown up with the couch and hated to see it thrown away, and took off to home. We met my grandparents half way and they took it back to our house. The two of us were back at camp before late afternoon, both of us beaming with excitement for what would be waiting to greet us at home.

Yes. I stole the camp glider.

...It makes me wonder what now sits on the porch of this enormous old house that sits atop the hill that overlooks more or less the entire grounds of Camp K-20, a family camp that has been around for about 100 years.

My family and I have had the privilege of hiding out there for a couple weeks each summer for 6 or 7 consecutive years. Last year we couldn't go because of my school schedule, and we hope to at least chill for a weekend there this summer if we can.

But when you're up there, it's like you're hidden from the rest of the world. It's wonderful. It's quiet and peaceful and such an escape. (Escapeeeee'....that's funny, it's spelled just like 'escape'!) And it's a place where you do a lot of crazy stuff, reckless stuff, fun stuff, and a lot of thinking...No one seems to really care where you go, as long as you wander into the kitchen when you're hungry. Tabs aren't really kept, and there's a vast amount of freedom. (Probably because there's not too much trouble you can get into up there...) But on rainy days, the whole camp shuts itself away and becomes silent. People nap, sneak away to the 'real world' aka - walmart, or, if you're one of the lucky few who owns a tv up there, you watch movies. Me? I liked to make a cup of hot coffee, grab one of my dad's big comfy sweatshirts, and gently sway back and forth on the glider.

Something about being alone, inhaling the wet air, watching the rain fall while being sheltered by the porch roof, it was peaceful, calming. I felt like I was sitting there, alone but not alone, with my chest ripped open and my heart exposed. Everything in my confused mind made sense as I looked out over a hill covered in wild blueberry bushes and ancient forestry.

And right now, I wish I could escape' to that. I guess, it's what I call "Being still, and knowing."

But I guess I'll just content myself with another cuppa coffee, maybe some poetry, and a gentle sway on the glider as I be still and know some more...

Sparrows....

"Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?" Matthew 6:25-26

Hello dear bloggers,

Last I typed to you I was anxiously awaiting the build of my clientele. Well, I'm still waiting. The only difference is the amount of money I am getting paid. When I wrote my last post, my hope for clients was more of a call for something to do. I was still being paid by the hour, whether I was doing hair or not. Since then I've been taken off hourly pay and am now working solely on commission. Oh, commission. I have mixed feelings over you. The way it works at my salon is that the client pays for their service and then half of that money goes to the salon and the other half goes to me. 50/50. Not so bad, I guess....unless you don't have a steady flow of work coming through your door. My hope for clients has turned into a heavy NEED of clients.

A few weeks ago I went out to breakfast with one of my friends. We sat there and confessed our needs to constantly be working. Creating bits and pieces of art - art that stands unmoving, and art that gets up and walks around. This need to create, and change is part of who we are. We talked about artists like us and how we 'fit' into the great big artistic world out there.

"Fit" is a silly word to use. As if you could put us in a box. Never have I seen an artist who is shaped like a square... We talked about the struggle of being in the world, and not of it. The total blur of moral lines, showing love, being salt, and being light, and being scared to stand out....

We spoke our concerns about how we love what we do, but how financially hard it can be.

The fact that I can't control the amount of people that come in requesting me, that my paycheck isn't steady, really bugs me out. I wouldn't say that I'm a control freak, but there are some things that, were I able to control, I would. This is where I have to let go. I've always been a very independent girl, just ask my mother. If I wanted something, I would work to make it happen. I could do anything. I now find myself very dependent, and very out of control. And I don't like it.

You've heard the phrase "Be still, and know that I AM God."? Well, lately I've found myself being still and knowing quite often. I'm learning to become dependant. God is teaching me to depend on him for clients. He's giving me patience. Now, it's hard, I'm still sitting around alot and waiting for people to call, and my paycheck is pretty shabby, but not once have I gone into work and left without having done at least one client that day. What do I do in my spare time? I pray that God would send me walk-ins. And he does. He is faithful, and I need him. A lot.

So, next time we'll have to see how I'm doing with patience and my contentedness with dependency....(and not gonna lie, 'next time' will probably be quite a while from now.... ;) We'll see how sparrow like I've become.

You may say that I'm a dreamer

I'm a strange person. Part of what makes my personality so strange are the dreams that I have. Ever since I was little I've had these crazy dreams. Being babysat by evil creatures that belonged in Dr. Seuss books, being a pink robot and scaling a dangerous, snow-covered mountain in the middle of summer, getting married in the grocery store (reception immediately to follow in the swimmng pool....), my mother driving on the wrong side of the road with hamsters running around in our car, going to the set of LOTR just to find out that the Ents are made of twigs and Frodo owed his acting career to my family....Or, my personal favorite: The youth of America is kidnapped and forced to live and work for a secret society of Elephants with world domination on the brain, all living in a purlieu underground city beneath NYC....

Yes, you may say that I'm a dreamer. To say that I have an over-active imagination would be a vast(and insulting) understatement.
It has become apparent that I am just a creative and passionate person. If I'm not creating beautiful things with my hands, I'm daydreaming about road tripping, picnicing, house building, dress designing, music writing(something I can't do but wish I could), world traveling, coffee drinking, book writing, running around in disguises, planning the perfect crime, solving a dasterdly deed, and all around being spontaneous....And it would appear that the things I don't physically get to do play out mentally for me at night...no matter what it is I did that day, what I may have eaten late-late at night, I dream bizarre and wonderful dreams.

Someday I think I'll fill a book with all these peculiar thoughts that meander like a restless wind through my brain....it's a dream of mine ;)

waiting patiently...or trying.

Well, it's been about a month since I started working at the Velvet Touch and so far I'm really liking it. I'm only there 3 days a week, about 8hrs at a time, but I'm happy...for the most part. Unfortunately I spend a lot of my time sweeping floors, confirming appointments and washing towels. I was told that the first year is always the hardest, making money and building up clientele...so far that's been pretty true. I have had many people tell me they should give me a call, come see me, have me work on them....then I don't hear from them.... It's rather disheartening. I can tell that this will be the hardest part of my first year woes. At any given time there are about 10 different things on my mind, this topic may be the one that weighs the heaviest. But it will come...someday... Until then, I will be content with the faithful friends I do have that come to see me, returning time and again. Thanks guys! You mean the world to me!

Coffee Shop Romance

It is a daydream of mine to have a date in a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop. Somewhere artsy, and eclectic. To sit there in comfy chairs tucked away in a corner, holding hot drinks in our hands. Spending hours talking, chatting, smiling, dreaming, reading, enjoying each other until the world outside of the windows has gone dark, and any dredges of our drinks are cold. It's a simple day dream. Not impossible. But very pleasent. Then I found this music video...and it made me smile.

We like, we like to party....

Last Wednesday my best friend turned 20. That's right, we've reached the year where crossing the invisible "I'm a Legal Adult" line is far behind us and now...we're just getting old ;) HA!

To celebrate Bella and I ran around a rather amazing and spectacular thrift store called Savers, and later ventured into the mall and F21. What did we do there? Well, we bought clothes (or in my case, purple polka-dotted pillow cases), but really we were there to play one of our favorite games....FINDTHEUGLIESTPIECESOFCLOTHINGANDWEARTHEMALLATTHESAMETIME! It's a fabulous game and Bella and I are the winners. Always.

"Dear stirrup pants,

PLEASE go back to the 90's where you belong. Our feet, no matter how unruly, do not enjoy being strapped to our pants.

Sincerely,

Emily and Bella

Concerned citizens and fashion police.... ;)

What can I say? I've always wanted to be an awkwardly bald, pepto-bismal-pink mannequin...
no, really!

Here are some of our beautiful outfits.

This poncho was so large and boxy....I think you're jealous.

Oh look! It's a double rainbow! I just might cry!

She's so pretty in pink! Just waiting for her some guy to pick her up in his pink tux so they can go to their prom...in the 80's.

don't you just love the neck line?

I have no words.

I do actually think that we lost at this one. Despite the homeschool-stereotype fabric pattern, the colors and the dress are actually pretty cute on her.

Happy Birthday Bella!

This is why we watch.

So last night was the Superbowl. And it was just ok this year, but that's only because the Packers won(bleh). But, men in tight shiny pants is not the only reason millions of Americans sit in front of their television sets every year to watch this program. No. Apart from the game you also have half-time, and the commercials.
Now, last year we had The Who at half time. They were pretty good, with their light show and stuff of legend - no matter how much they lip synced....But this year, THIS YEAR, we had *drum roll*...THE BLACK EYED PEAS! And they were....TERRIBLE! If you don't believe me, go look it up on YouTube, or all your friends FB feeds from last night.

The commercials, on the other hand, did NOT disappoint. Here are some of my favorites from last night:

Like a Bridge Over Troubled Waters...

Last week was a hard one for me. Filled with life drama, job drama, dramadramdramallamadrama. I had been hit with to much allatonetime and my brain didn't know what to do with it.

I fretted for a while, worried a bit, freaked out some, and then...I gave it to God.

"like a bridge over troubled waters, I will ease your mind."

I gave him my worries and concerns, and I realized how much He has given back.

He has provided me with a loving family, who mourn with me, and rejoice at the upcoming opportunities with me, and talk me out for Liquid Comfort.

He has provided friends who have genuine care for who I am, how I'm coping, how I'm not coping, and love to LOVE me(and give me hugs, which I desperately needed, and still need...but not as much).

He has given me a chance to look at other salons. And a guarantee that my former employment, and schooling will not be scoffed at. He has given me a talent, and eye for color and beauty.

A list of Salons, the names of their owners and numbers, and recommendations from the Gugliottis.

He has given me a heart for people. (And on occasion, their drama.)

He has given me hope. He has given me love. He has given me peace. He has given me freedom.

And though I am still sad, and asking "WHY?" to a bunch of things, I am accepting it all, and learning to do so with a glad and open heart.

I feel vulnerable and a bit confused, but I'm learning that that is a part of life and there are ways to use those feelings.

Today is, hopefully, the day I start calling salons...and you know how I feel about phones....

Let the hunt commence! ONWARDS!

Comment faire du pain delicieux

Last week, on one of my days off, my mother grabbed me on her way out the door and suggested I make bread to keep me busy. I haven't made bread in a really long time, and normally I'm not the one making it, simply the hander-of-ingredients. But there I was, no work to do, house to myself, and not much food hanging around to munch on(that's a good thing really.). So I got out the recipe. This isn't your normal bread recipe though. It was given to us by one of my mom's friends who was also my French(/math/science)tutor, Mrs. Jones.
Not only does Mrs. Jones speak multiple languages, solve mind boggling mathematical equations, and understand physics and the higher sciences, she also cooks amazing food!
Upon entering her house numerous smells of deliciousness smack you in the face, demanding to be noticed, yet hiding somewhere in her kitchen just out of reach. And it's all healthy stuff...well mostly :)
Today I will share with you my day of making this amazingly healthy, satisfyingly delicious, 10 grain bread, and hope that you make it yourself so you can enjoy a slice of mouthwatering goodness, too. :)


FIRST: Gather Ingredients
Oatmeal

• 3 cups of BOILING water
• 2 cups of oats (just the normal oatmeal kind, unless you want to use fancy ones)
• 1/2 stick of butter

When these 3 ingredients are mixed together, you are to let them sit for 20 minutes.

• 2/3 cup of honey
• 1TBSP salt
• 1 cup very warm watter(about 115 degrees)

Porridge

• 3/4 cup "Bob's red mill 10 grain hot cereal"
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 2 1/2 cups water (room temp)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

• 2 1/2 cups flour
• 3 TBSP yeast
• 7-10 additional cups of flour (for kneading, I used about 9 or so)

Directions!

*Make the oatmeal -

pour 3 cups of boiling water over the 2 cups of oats and 1/2 stick of butter. Let this mixture stand for 20 minutes.

*Make the Porridge-
bring all the ingredients(from the porridge list) to boil and simmer for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking. Let cool to a warm temperature. (I normally make the porridge while I'm waiting for the oatmeal...)

SET YOUR TIMERS!

sitting, waiting, smelling, sitting, waiting, smelling.

this is your 2/3 cup of honey, 1 TBSP salt, and 1 cup(8 oz.) of very warm water. (I used the water that was left over in my tea kettle from boiling for the 3 cups of water for the oatmeal...)

When 20 minutes is up, add the Honey, Salt, and Very Warm Water to the Oatmeal mixture and stir.

Grab the porridge and bring it over :)

2 1/2 cups of flour, 3 TBSP of yeast.

Add the Porridge to the Oatmeal and stir together, then add the 2 1/2 cups flour and 3Tbsp yeast.

Knead the flour and yeast into the wet mixture.


Then...

Stir in the first couple cups of the extra kneading flour. When gets so hard to stir that you wish you had a circus strong man to help you, dump the dough out onto a clean and floured counter. Flour is your friend. Remember that.

Stir in the 7-10 cups, one at a time, kneading until most of the stickiness is gone.

Grease your empty bread bowl, don't be stingy with your pam, or butter, or whatever your non-stick substance of choice is, and return the dough to the bowl.

You're gonna want to flip the dough a couple times to spread the grease around.

Let it rise until it has doubled in bulk, takes about an hour. Cover the dough with a tea towel, or something that isn't fuzzy, and place somewhere warm. Under a light, the back of your stove (if the burners are not on!)etc, away from cold.

Now's a good time to watch this video, since you've got an hour to wait :)














Almost there!






There we go! Try for the 'Muffin-Top' effect.

NOW GO PREHEAT YOUR OVEN TO 350 DEGREES!!!

Now punch the dough in the center, knuckle dusters are not necessary, and pour onto counter.

Cut the dough into four even sized loaves...

and place them in thoroughly greased pans.

Place in your preheated-to-350-oven...

and bake for 45 minutes.

When the timer beeps I suggest you check the loaves. In my oven, this bread is done in exactly 45 minutes, but it may be more or less in your oven.

Remove the baked bread from the oven and slather the tops in butter.

As you can see, I just unwrapped the other half of that stick of butter we used at the beginning and applied it, like so.

When it's cooled enough, tip it out of the pans and eat away.

My favorite is to toast a couple slices, spread some butter on them, and then dribble honey on top. Most delicious! Now go! Try! Enjoy! And have fun!

This is good eats my friend.

And never brought to mind... - Festivities Part 2

Christmas morning, wake up early....

Potato Pancakes. It's what's for breakfast. :)

Definitely not your normal Christmas Morning breakfast, but who said my family was normal? Besides, they are quite delectable.

One of the best gifts I received was the Queen's Greatest hits collection...

Can you guess what we listened to while unwrapping presents? ;)

Oli and El playing with the new Wii Resort game. I think they were fencing, and it was pretty funny to watch them "Thrust, perry, LUNGE!" at each other. It was very dramatic.

Owen, of course, received a few Lego sets (both the night before - from Grama and Grampa - and day of, from us...) and all were completed within minutes of opening

New Years Eve - Morning.

My mom and I met a friend of ours and her daughter at the gym at 7:30ish...I pretty much only agreed to go with the promise of coffee afterwards. I thought they meant a run to DD but was most pleasantly surprised when I found out that Starbucks was the ultimate destination.

I tell ya: If someone took me out to Starbucks every time I went to the gym I would be going much more often than I do now....which...isn't often at all...

...moving on...

This one really should be last, but got loaded in the wrong order. New years eve I had a gathering of friends at my home and one of them brought the infamous game of Quelf, which just happens to be really random and one of Owen's favorites. That, coupled with the fact that he adores the guys who were there that night, made him a very happy camper. Unfortunately we never got around to playing this wacky party game which made the little boy rather upset. He ended up asking my friend Hedge, owner of said game, if he could borrow it....so the next morning/early afternoon my family sat around our family room footrest in our PJs and played Quelf - for most of them it was their first time.
It will not be their last.

P.S. - Hedge, we'll get Quelf back to you...someday...I promise.

New Years Eve. Before the friends arrived at our homestead, I noticed that my father had taken some of the sparkling wine out of the cupboard over the fridge - wine that had been there when we moved into our house 8ish years ago - and put it in our refrigerator. What I did not notice was that later on some sparkling apple cider was also placed alongside the wine in our fridge - both had very similar packaging.

Now my family always has bottles of wine on the counter - not a lot, just a couple - and our basement is becoming a wine cellar. For whatever reason this 'amount of alcohol' was noticed and joked about throughout the evening. Only 2 of the guests were even over 21 so they could've had wine if they had wanted.

So, midnight came and went, we all watched the ball, and numerous couples kissing while wearing blue foam hats that were endorsing Nivea, "Kiss and Be Kissed!" is what they said.

("They're just following directions..." - Hedge

This quote actually made me laugh because it reminded me of something I read recently in the book I mentioned previously, Mud and Poetry, it says:

"Genesis can be read literally. But I think it's a story, not a dissertation; and as such, we should read it as a story, a true story. I think that if science says humans are 98% the same as all other mammals, we shouldn't argue back with scant scientific evidence. why not give them, as the Bible does, poetry? Tell them you know that, genetically, humans are mostly the same as any other mammal, but that your belief that we are not the same is not based on scientific or historic proofs, but because the Bible tells us God shaped a man from warm clay with his own two hands; because he bent down and kissed him.

God breathed his life into us.

I am not a human being because I have a vascular system; I am a human being because I have been kissed, and (Lord help me) I will give kisses!")

We all meandered into the kitchen, and my dad grabbed a bottle of sparkling something out of the fridge and handed it to me to open. I was confused...
"If we were going to serve alcohal to minors...shouldn't we have done it earlier on in the night? Not when they're about to drive home?"

Now it was my dad's turn to be confused. "That's cider."

"OH..."

So we popped the cork and filled the glasses. He did bring out the ancient wine, for himself, and poured it into a glass. There was a collective "Ew." as a brown liquid flowed from the bottle.

"Yeah," my dad said. "That should be clear."

He took a sip, offered it to Hedge - who reasonably declined - and then dumped it...

Gross...

And thusly, with hugs, and 'happy new years!', and goodbyes, our new years activities ended....