Top Ten of 2010

I don’t know about you, but I feel overwhelmed when I search through other blogger’s archives. I stare at entry after entry wondering where to begin. One way to make your life easier was to narrow down ten of my favorite posts for you.

Learn how to make your own ‘Stingy Green Cleaners’ using non-toxic and cheap items-with the help of Kermit the Frog.
Now, who doesn’t love cheap and who doesn’t love Kermie?

You may not be ready to tackle re-finishing your Hardwood Floors, but come along with me on my journey. It’s gonna be a weird one.

Check out our crazy house on the Home Tour.

As Grandma moves into town, I capture what may be my last visit to the Family Farm.

Men make such a difference in the lives that surround them. Check out why I am the way that I am-thanks, Dad.

It took several weeks for Biceps and I to build this shed, dubbed-‘The Big Girl Playhouse’. What an adventure and what a marital learning experience…I don’t think we’ll do this again.

With the fall comes my love for Meatloaf. Check out my Tasty Turkey Meatloaf for the complete tutorial.

Before Biceps, I was determined to move out to Colorado and rock climb, white water raft and not shave for as long as my heart desired. Thankfully, I met Biceps and stayed put. Tulsa has a small but sufficient site to at least my rock climbing fix once in awhile.

My Banana Bread Recipe is one of my favorite treats to make for others…and me…

Handmade notes mean the world to me. I highlight a few from both friends and family that I have kept for years.

I hope that your year has been fantastic! Thank you for sharing in my journey through last year. I think this year will be even better.

“Who dun it?”

A Modern Tale of Men, Mayhem and Machine Guns
(alright, they weren’t machine guns. They were Rubber Band Guns, but I was going for the whole alliteration thing…)

Biceps and I made gifts for our family this year. The ladies received girly things. The men received very manly things. Fourteen Rubber Band Guns were crafted for the men. They received their new weaponry and enough ammunition to do some damage to the loved ones surrounding them.

With the guns loaded and the rules explained to young and old alike…

…and with every man suppressing way too much energy for way too stinkin’ long on Christmas day, the stage was ripe for a modern, ‘Who dun it’ scenario.

A fired gun and a naughty motive are all that it takes to convict a man. And there were several men in this predicament.

Father turned against son. Grandson turned against Grandfather. Brother threatened brother.

And then, a shot rang out. A door slammed.

The maid screamed.
And my father had been maliciously targeted by an unknown shooter…

…and hit! Oh, the pain! The agony!
The guilty party still has yet to step forward and admit to what they had done. But justice is swift in this house and you cannot hide from justice. Good luck hiding, guilty one. Good luck.

It’s that time of year-Photo Albums as Christmas Gifts

I love making digital scrapbooks. By scanning in an old photo, I can fix any scratches or flaws with one of my editing programs. I also don’t have to give up that ‘one copy’ of my favorite photo. And lastly, I can make several copies for each family member with a click of a button.

I made an album for Biceps’ Grandma and Grandpa two Christmases ago. Grandpa especially loved seeing himself as a young whipper snapper next to his purty car…

…and seeing pictures of his favorite horse. Grandpa had a myriad of stories about good ‘ol Charlie.
And just so you know, Charlie could do no wrong.

The youngest heard from the oldest the stories that make up our family.

When I become a Grandma someday, I can tell stories of the homesteads that are no longer remaining. The albums will have the visual to give my kids and their kids-roots to farming, to Iowa, to a different life.

They’ll hear from me what I heard from Bicep’s grandparents. Stories about horrific spring tornadoes and God’s provision afterwards.

Stories about the untimely death of this man, Grandpa’s son, who was killed by a drunk driver in the 70’s.

And stories about how Grandpa and Grandma visited the man in the hospital who killed their son and prayed for him. They were able to lead that man to the Lord.

These stories should be shared-generation after generation. They should be memorized, written down and never forgotten. I mean, if you don’t know where you came from-how do you know where you’re going?

If you’re looking for that perfect gift, may I recommend a digital photo album? Or if that’s too much work, may I suggest a roll of 100 dollar bills? I didn’t have a roll of 100 dollar bills, so I went the photo album root.

The Pumpkin Roll

My oldest brother has established a rule for his children pertaining to picking out their holiday pumpkin.
The simple rule is: ‘If you can lift it, you can have it.’
In my experience, children-especially the sneaky nephew-types, tend to come up with all sorts of ways to circumvent the rules laid down by the parental figures.
I know because I was a sneaky child. But that was many, many, many moons ago.

At first, the oldest and sneakiest nephew realized he could ‘roll’ the pumpkin up onto his body-without a lot of heavy lifting.

The others followed suit while impressing even the most skeptical of aunts. (That’s me.)

However, the ‘pumpkin roll’ became passe.
Newly instituted was the ‘double lifter’.

For some, the concept of the ‘pumpkin roll’ or the ‘double lifter’ was lost, amidst the simplicity of merely climbing on the giant orange objects.

That is, until a sneaky Gramma came along and showed the littlest how it was done.
This pumpkin had found a home.
Gramma had found a new manic intensity.
And we had all found a new source of blackmail.