robot•jumping•rope

o all you lurkers made my holiday even more delectable. thanks for coming out from hiding, and be assured i will be visiting every one of your blogs in due time and commenting the hell out of them.

and to all my regular friends: sweet people. i love you.

now on to today’s business:

we got our car back. yippeeeeeee! i won’t share the threats and/or promises we made to the mechanic to accomplish this, but we may or may not have included descriptions of aging-by-the-minute grandparents pining for their sweet grand-progeny and visions of free bbq should he oblige us. turns out he’s a very nice man who will resist more tweaking until this thursday. i’m beginning to suspect he has a crush on my car.

so over the freeways and through the ice to grandmother’s house we’ve gone. yes, i’m up in the frozen tundra freezing my tundra off. the boy and husband are ice fishing today, which apparently involves many pairs of wool socks, enormous ham sandwiches, thermoses full of hot cocoa - and not one fishing pole.

i am in front of the fake fire with a laptop all to myself, unlimited cable and a mother in law who lives to clean and watch my children.

good times.

the photo up top is from 2 years ago. our little family hosted Christmas and grilled NY strips. and i made a pear tart the husband took credit for, but he looked so cute in the apron and beginnings of a beard that i let him.

hey, hope you’ve got good eats and many sweet people around you wherever you are today.

merrily,

estea

all i want for christmas is my car back.

really hoping to spend some quality holiday time with the sisters in law, enjoying some bailey’s, sharing juicy family gossip and beating the guys at trivial pursuit. but still no beloved honda; dear mechanic is now “tweaking” it.

that’s right. TWEAKING. sweet butter on a biscuit HOW LONG does the man think a suburban mama with no sidewalks can live without her minivan? i’ve never cooked so much from scratch in my life. costco is sending my husband sympathy cards.

on the bright side, he says it runs better than before, and is charging us nothing extra for having the thing on his rack for a month now. if he gets it back to me today he’s definitely getting a gift certificate to his favorite steak place.

speaking of beef, made this last night and it was fantastic. we used Harp instead of Guinness and for the “fine wine” my 6.99 bottle of Cycle Gladiator Syrah (for locals you can find it here) was perfect for the cooking and the drinking. just the right fruity red for stew or a hearty soup, with rosemary olive bread and salad on the side. i love food.

probably won’t be posting much from now until the big day, as i’m still sewing madly and plotting how to steal my car back. if i don’t see you again, have a merry, merry 25th and may the joy of watching your kids open presents thrill you til your toes tingle.

xxxooo,

me

p.s.

ms thang thinks she is so very funny.

i am more than a little nutty. way more. but that’s what psychotropic drugs are for, my loves.

i bequeath this to lori, as she is snowed-in and has nowhere to run.

p.p.s

wouldn’t this be a nice time for lurkers to delurk and wish me a merry xmas or happy hanukkah or glorious festivus for the restuvus? if you’re not too busy, i mean. just sayin. of course i love you anyway, even if you choose to remain incognito, but i do wonder what santa thinks about girls who never comment.

!

it is finished.

and you know, i must have improved on the sewing front because there were no do-overs, no cursing, no needle-breaking, thread-bunching, frustrated tirades directed at my machine or rage-fueled pattern crumpling incidents. there was an issue with the hem until i measured from the floor with a yardstick (again, novice), the shoulders are more narrow than they should be, and the pinwale has a little stretch in it so there are a few puckers but nothing detectable cause of the wild print.

and there was facing involved, people. it actually looks good. who knew.

so we picked up evie from alicia last night - you do know we live about 5 minutes apart, right? lucky me (and sorry again for interrupting your dinner, dear. oh, and I got Harp at MDL) - and little ms. ev is so perfectly wonderful. i know you think these girls look lovely online but i’m telling you that in person that bob, the linen body, the face!

she is just the doll you want when you are 7. or 39. i’ve a strong feeling my girl will be wearing this dress and toting around the sweetest dolly in the world for quite a while. fine by me.

enjoy your wednesday. my sweet old Necchi, bless his $15 heart, is talking me into attempting a felt crown and cape, and possibly an oilcloth smock.

baby steps.

not that i have anything against the man, i mean, in the mid-80’s i dreamed of having gap-toothed babies. he’s totally stalk-worthy in my book.

but my list of search engine phrases is one fruity top ten bad boy. paul shaffer might even genuinely laugh at these treats.

and now, for your delectation:

• • •

10. hide going to work with strep

9. you can never have too much rope

8. how to get off the floor by jumping

7. dr. seuss locked himself in

6. housewives in green twirly skirts

5. pictures from amish girls jumping in ice water

4. disco ball advent calendar

3. getting back an aries girlfriend

2. why does my cat throw up and go limp?

• • •

• • •
and wait for it

• • •

• • •

1. recipe “baked rat”

• • •

• • •
*edited after lunch cause i had double disco balls and forgot dr. seuss.

1. free tree cuttings from lowes

2. my blondes working on a bird scrapbook (and another watching for unattended glue sticks)

3. playing this many times every day (because they think it’s the most exciting game in the world)

4. the velvet drapes from my elementary school stage

5. actually, finally wearing this on New Year’s Eve:

6. more maw and paw

7. my guy

8. saucers!

9. Evie, soon to reside at our house

• • •

what do you love today?

presenting

Rescue?: a play in 3 acts devised by my 9 year old, proud owner of freshly-created flickr account and budding tarantino aesthetic.

enjoy.

“it’s all cool. I’m an excellent guard - wait, what’s that chewing sound??”

“AAAAAAAACK! dude! I’m outta here!”

“yay! I’m saved!………OR AM I?????????”

• • •

happy weekending

so here’s the thing: it’s icy in the midwest.

you’ve heard about it, no doubt, or maybe you’re living it out in real time like the rest of us who abide in flyover country. in my city things could be worse, but they are bad enough that the little ticker crawling across the local news says everything happening anywhere tonight and tomorrow is cancelled and - perhaps it’s only my television that includes this message - i must “proceed immediately to the baked goods section of the nearest cookbook.”

what? you don’t see it?

okay, subliminal or not this weather tells my brain to BAKE. incessantly. then slather hot, starchy goodies with butter and honey and eat them while standing at the door watching the sleet and licking my fingers.

scones will do, and this recipe has become my standard; grating cold butter is a stroke of genuis, yes? no more slicing tiny bits and using that stupid pastry cutter. and try adding a pinch of cinnamon to these. yum.

the remains of today’s pan of delicious, alongside abandoned lego projects and the dregs of my late-afternoon caffeine fix:

how i wish you were closer, girl. i’d whip us up a fresh batch and put on a new pot of coffee. then you could tell me all about your trip while the boys lego and the rain freezes on the branches.

i’ve got plenty of butter for slathering.

until now.

here’s what i did with a self-timer:

here’s where i put it.

here’s what they thought of it.

here’s what i get:

heckuva lot cooler than the BubbleYum® t-shirt i got in the third grade, yes?

boxes of cereal 3 growing children can polish off in a morning: 1

cups of coffee consumed be me thus far today: 2 (one at home, one at krispy kreme)

donuts consumed at krispy kreme: none (just a tiny bite of the toddler’s. marvel at my self-control. i know i did.)

inches of snow predicted today: 3-5

hours spent last evening preparing my kids for all the activities in which they’ll participate during their one day per week homeschool co-op: 3

more age and gender-appropriate hoodies i let my fashionista friend talk me into purchasing due to her horror at my constant donning of the husband’s vintage green gap sweatshirt (paint stains, ragged cuffs, awol zipper): 2. and one is PINK

boxes puffs plus® our family has gone through since October: 5

weeks without my beloved, essential, i’ll never make fun of you again minivan: 2.5

times our mechanic has promised we’d have the minivan “tomorrow”: 4

number of car models we can afford that are less than 5 years old and comparable in size to our minivan: 0

degree to which i despise SUPER WHY!: 8.9 on scale of 1-10

moments in which i’ve found myself singing the SUPER WHY! theme song just this morning: numerous

commissioned sketches the husband has sold since his show: 2 (yay!)

number flash animations he is working on that are AWESOME: 1

days since i last worked out: 9

estimated lbs “winter weight” accumulated since thanksgiving: 4

ideas i have for xmas decorating: infinite

actual ideas for xmas decorating implemented: zero

money in checking account: far too little as i overpaid the discover bill by EIGHT HUNDRED DOLLARS. just call me ms. math.

copies of the Lagaan soundtrack on my xmas list: 1 (best dance music ever)

excellent mix cds received from my new jane-austen-wrote-daily-letters-and-so-do-we friend in illinois: 2

level of surprise and gratitude for the recognition of being blog of the month for the delightful ms. meg: 10

estimated number of times i will refer to Mr. Buttons® until xmas: 7

contests i may have won but i can’t tell you about it yet: 1

times my mother emailed me last night because she thought a photo of the kids i sent her was cropped incorrectly: 3

thrift stores i’m gonna hit today as soon as i post this: 3

level of enjoyment i feel doing this blog just for kicks and just for me: 10

just so you know, i did everything within my power to keep the inevitable inescapable unavoidable obligatory (thesaurus!power) sentimental holiday post from bubbling forth.

it didn’t work.

so, what is your most vivid memory of Christmas?

does it involve your mom letting you sleep on the yellow naugahyde couch in the front room where the christmas tree is because you have an earache like you do all winter every winter and in pre-antibiotic, pre-ear tube, pre-ibuprofen days it was the least she could do to comfort you?

is it full of lights that to your already-very-nearsighted-by-3rd-grade eyes resemble blurry multi-colored fireflies swimming quietly in the dark on a cedar tree your dad cut from the back pasture and drove home in his old red chevy with you and your brother in the unheated cab next to him smelling like wet wool and shivering with excitement and cold toes and watching your black collie running along beside like she knew just what all the fuss was about?

is there the background noise of Elvis singing Blue Christmas and Burl Ives and Perry Como singing everything else at low volume on the record player while your older sisters giggle companionably in the kitchen over glasses of pepsi and well-stained recipes for divinity and snickerdoodles and hermits and apple salad and spritz cookies and your mom shushes them now and then but it doesn’t help and you don’t mind anyway because the sound of their voices and the smell of their bonne bell skin musk and and the bags of laundry and presents they’ve brought home with them from college is the most exciting thing that ever happens to you twice a year?

do you recall a flannel holly hobbie nightgown and rainbow knee socks with individual toes and pink foam curlers pulling your hair and fighting sleep with your eyes half-closed to make the lights on the tree even more sparkly while wishing hard for a new bike with a banana seat and basket and horn and streamers on the handles and halfway hoping your brother gets a new bike too because you’re feeling uncharacteristically benevolent and the tiniest bit guilty for some of the stuff you’ve done to him lately and maybe he’s not always the little punk you think he is?

do you?

i do.

tell me yours. i love recollecting with you.

mr. buttons sez®

it’s time for christmas decorating.

but what does he know?

we’ve got another birthday party coming up saturday, for my boy will be 9. did you hear me? NINE? impossible.

so we won’t look for the perfect real tree yet

or pull all the vintage breakables and tangled lights and Mr. Buttons out of the spider-infested basement storage room

or drink peroni from mismatched champagne flutes and eat cheap port wine cheese balls and low-fat triscuits while keeping ourselves from yelling at the kids for hanging their ornaments in *clusters* (we’ll adjust things later after they’re asleep, ’cause that’s how we roll)

or figure out where to hang the stockings now that we have no mantel (that was some smart thinking back in july)

or turn up John Denver, Frank and Bing, Smokey Robinson, the Carpenter’s Corniest Christmas Ever, Vince Guaraldi, George Winston or Handel

or see if it still fits

or fuss with the advent calendar this year because i’m too tired to deal with it (and He more than likely understands this, don’t you think?)

or stock up on tea lights

or ask santa for a car that runs

or pull out the wee trees

or remember when he was still my baby

until after the boy celebrates his day.

which is fine with me.

i’m still trying to figure out what happened to halloween.