The New Stove!

I've been without an oven for more than a month.  My old one was close to 20 years old.  It had lived a good life, had been repaired repeatedly, but it was time to move on.
This afternoon when I pulled up to the house after work, I was thrilled to see the delivery truck at my back door.  My new LG stove is finally here, and I'm so excited!

While the interior of this stove wasn't the reason I picked it, it does match my blue and yellow kitchen perfectly.

The first thing I'm making: poppyseed cake, to make good on my promise to Kelsey that for her birthday, she could have a week's worth of poppyseed cake.  The stove wasn't here on her birthday (it was back ordered), so she was gracious enough to take a rain check.

Let the baking begin!

Mr. Fix It

Our dining room ceiling fan broke a couple of weeks ago.  Upon further investigation, it became clear we needed a new one.  Baird spent some time today installing it.

Thanks Baird - I love having my own Mr. Fix It!

Roses

My roses are blooming!

Early Spring Time Warp

Spring is on steroids this year.  Normally we get a day, maybe two, during the month of March when the air is warm and the temps stretch into the 70s. Then the Canadian winds invade again, the temperatures fall back into the 40s and 50s, and then the rains begin in earnest. No so this year.  We're currently in the midst of an unheard-of heat wave with temps well into the 80s, several days in a row.  Because of all this heat, the spring flowers have been in fast-forward mode.  Take my magnolia, for example.  Last night it had full buds but no blossoms.  This morning, it looked like this:

All this in just eight hours, a process which usually takes weeks!  The flowers are running about six weeks ahead of schedule, and it has put me in a bit of a time warp.  Here we are in mid-March, but when I look around outside, it looks like May.  It's all a bit weird.  But I love spring, and I'm glad it's sprung early this year!

What a Difference a Year Makes

Last year at this time, we were getting slammed with one of the worst blizzards in Chicagoland history.  Honestly, after three consecutive years of 50+ inches of snow, I have enjoyed this year's reprieve.  Here's a picture I took of parsley that's still growing in my herb garden from last summer.

Please Rescue Me

I grew up in the rural Midwest with traditional rural, Midwestern values, and not just of God and Country.  I was raised with a spirit of independence and self-reliance.  That is to say, if there's something that needs to be done and one is capable of doing it oneself, one ought not to ask for help.  To do so is just plain undignified and a sure sign of weakness.

For the most part, Baird appreciates my spirit of independence.  Once when we were dating, he stopped by my apartment to pick me up, and he found me standing on a chair, changing a light bulb.  He offered to do it for me.  I told him I was perfectly capable of changing my own light bulbs, thank you very much.  Generally speaking, Baird likes that I don't go into "helpless female" mode very often.  Occasionally, however, he tries to rescue me when I know I don't need it.

Since we've been married, there have been occasions when I have almost screamed at Baird, "I didn't ask for your help, so I don't need your help," when he has offered his assistance with a particular project.  Sometimes he thinks I'm in over my head, and so, in an attempt to be the hero, he tries to swoop in to rescue me.  I tend to react strongly when I know I'm not in over my head, but I can see he clearly thinks otherwise.

There is, however, one area where I always need rescuing, and that's when it comes to mice.  I've mentioned before about how much I hate these critters.  They honestly give me the heebie jeebies.  It is a physical reaction.  I freak out.  I scream.  My heart races.  Quite frankly, a mouse is the one thing I always need to be rescued from.

So, this morning I was doing laundry.  I hadn't gotten around to washing all the yucky, dirty towels from last week's furnace project, so I put that at the top of my to do list today.  To say these towels were disgustingly dirty would be an understatement.  They were absolutely filthy rags.  I thought about shaking them out first, but honestly, I didn't think there was much that would shake out, so I stuffed them all in the washer and went on my merry way.  When the wash cycle was complete, I opened the door and began transferring the towels to the dryer.  And that's when it happened.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a brown thing clinging to one of the towels.  I thought it was a leaf, so I started to pick it off the towel.  As I touched it I realized it wasn't a leaf...it was the freshly laundered carcass of a dead mouse.  EEEEEEEWWWWWWW!!!!!!   Eww, Eww, Eww, Eww...oh, yuck, yuck, yuck...ick, icky, icky, ICK!  OH!  GROSS!  How does this kind of thing happen to me?  That's what went thru my head as I flung the carcass across the room and then stuck a five-gallon bucket in front of it.  I jumped up and down screaming for well over a minute.  I finally ran upstairs and washed my hands over and over and over, and then I washed them again.  I went back downstairs and ran some bleach and hot thru the washer, but that was as far as I went down the laundry trail for the rest of the day.  Even though there were at least six other loads waiting to be done, I decided to declare a leave of absence from the laundry chore.

Next I did what any modern housewife would do in such circumstances:  I updated my Facebook status to read:  Teresa Shattuck has a serious case of EEWWWWW!!!! after realizing I just laundered a mouse carcass.  There was a lot of empathy for my plight out there in the social networking world.  No fewer than 28 people commented on my status, and most people felt the exact same way as I did about discovering this vile item in my washing machine.

When I relayed the days' events to Baird at Awana tonight, I ended with a plea to be rescued.  My knight in shining armor obliged, and the offending carcass was removed to the alley garbage can before I arrived home from my Commander obligations.

Thanks, Baird, for rescuing me when I truly needed it.  You're my hero!

This Old House - Part 2

So I mentioned yesterday about the furnace issue.  At last post, the water was gurgling thru the pipes, the house was back above 60 degrees, and it looked like we were on our way to sleeping in a warm house.  The best laid plans...

It became apparent last night that the hot water was not making its way thru the all of the pipes, and the temperature in the house began to fall again.  My handyman hubby knows when to throw in the towel and call in a pro, so this morning we called a plumber to help us out.  The problem was fixed by early afternoon.  As each child walked in the door after school, they all had the same observation, "Ahhhh!  The heat's on!"

After I said good night to Drew, I chcked the thermostat, and was thrilled to see it  look like this:

It's gonna feel soooo good to wake up to a warm house tomorrow morning!

This Old House

Our house was built in 1922.  It seems like there's always something to fix.  About 5:30 this morning we all heard this horrible noise coming from the basement.  None of us knew exactly what it was, but one thing's for sure, when a noise like that comes from the general vacinity of the furnace, it's never a good sign.  Baird took the day off work to address the problem:  the motor that runs the hot water thru the pipes to warm up the house was shot.

Baird shut the water off to drain the pipes and get to the motor.  As the house plummeted to 56 degrees and we had no running water, it felt like an indoor camping experience.  Thank God for a working stovetop, oven, and hot tea!

The mess:

The metal:

The motor:

The man behind it all:

Around 2pm, the water was back on, the motor was running, and the house was back up to 60 degrees.  Thanks, Baird, for being my favorite handyman!

The Little Vase

Thisvase sits on the windowsill, and it keeps me company when I do dishes:

I've had this little gem since I was in preschool.  My very first friend, MaryAnn, had a grandma I adored.  MaryAnn's grandma owned this vase, and I was fascinated by it.  All those little shells were so intriguing to a Midwest farm girl who had never seen the ocean.  I also remember thinking that when I turned my head just right, the handles on the vase looked like arms crossed behind the back.  From there it wasn't a stretch to look at the neck of the vase as the frame of a lovely lady in a long hoop skirt, and I imagined the vase coming to life as a youthful lady in the 1800's who was coyly waiting to be asked to waltz at her very first dance.

One day while I was admiring the vase, MaryAnn's grandma smiled and kindly offered: "Honey, would you like to take it home with you?"  I was so startled and so thrilled, I barely knew what to say.  But I clearly remember bobbing my little head up and down quite enthusiastically, and heading home with this treasure.

Over the years, this vase held many gifts of dandelion bouquets and sprigs of violets, lovingly picked by me and given to my mom.  When I left home, I took the vase with me.  The first time Kelsey picked dandelions for me and brought them in the house, I placed them in this little vase.  It was one of those moments of clarity when I realized the passage of time, and my place within it.  I'd moved from the receiver of the gift of the vase, to the giver of the gift of flowers for the vase, to the receiver of the gift of flowers for the vase.

Now, more than a decade after Kelsey first gave me flowers for this little vase, I realize I'm in another stage.  The kids have outgrown their enthusiasm for picking dandelions and violets and rushing into the house, breathless with anticipation as they offer me a token of their love in the form of pretty weeds.  While the vase usually stands empty of flowers these days, it holds something even more precious:  a lifetime of memories.

Bug Out

This afternoon when I went to retrieve the mail, I found this cute little green bug resting on top of my mailbox:

The katydid was fearless and let me get rather close to take this picture.  It wasn't singing, perhaps because it didn't want to try to compete with the racket of the cicadas (who, by the way, are so loud right now I can hear them in the house with the windows closed while the air conditioner is going).

I haven't seen a katydid in many years, and I'm glad this one stopped by.  It brought a little whimsy to the afternoon and brought a smile to my face.

Finally! It's Here!

For the past couple of months we've been without a dishwasher.  We've all chipped in, doing our fair share of dishes.  We've had some good conversations over a sink full of suds.  I think I speak for everyone, however, when I say that we're all pretty sick of it.  My handyman hubby gave up his entire Saturday, and I was thrilled to pieces to see the new dishwasher installed when I returned home from work this evening. 

Those little blue lights mean it's working!  My dishpan hands are so thrilled!  Thanks Baird!

When I sit on my deck and look up in the summertime, this is what I see:

Given what the forestry guys told me last month, I'm not going to have this view forever.  I wanted to be sure I chronicled it just in case it's gone next year.

The Beginning of the End

I mentioned last week and earlier this week about the devastating storms that have roared thru our area.  Our giant, old elm tree by the garage has taken a serious hit.  Today the forestry crew came by to clean up the broken limbs.  We also received the very sad news that our tree has been stricken with Dutch elm disease.  In the words of the workers, "Enjoy your tree while you can."

The Pampered Chef Kitchen

Baird needed to take in a side dish for his work party, so he and Erin worked on putting together a pasta salad.  When I was looking at this picture later, I realized that there are more than 22 Pampered Chef items visible in this one photo!

Baird and I had been married almost 15 years when I started my Pampered Chef business.  I really hadn't updated my kitchen tools in all those years, and it had occurred to me that at the 15 year mark, women need another bridal shower to replace worn-out bridal shower gifts.  So, in addition to my paycheck, Pampered Chef allows me to earn their products for free.  It's been like a perpetual wedding shower these last 5 years, and there's no better proof of that than seeing all the tools layed out and put to good use.

Roses are Pink

Years ago I brought home a pink rose bush and planted it in our back yard by the garage.  Everyone else in the family hates it because it hangs out onto our carport, blocking easy access to the garbage cans in the alley.  Each member of the family has, at some point or other, begged me to remove the rose bush.  Usually such pleas are made after hair has become tangled in a branch, or a shoulder has been scraped on a thorn.  When such pain is inflicted on my family, I empathize, patch up, and refuse to remove the offending plant.  Here's why:

A New Addition

Our TV had a nervous breakdown yesterday.  It was pretty obvious when we turned it on and the blue color went one way and the pink color went the other and everything else went blurry, that the time had come to replace it.  I was thinking perhaps over the weekend we'd go shopping, but Baird couldn't wait.  He called me early this afternoon to tell me he'd bought a TV over lunch and was leaving work early to bring it home and install it.  This flat screen TV is so big it truly feels like a new addition to the house.  And I'm thinking we might have to name it.