Dec 3, 2010 | The Best of Evidently
This post originally ran February 2005
Brave Heart
Next Monday is St. Valentine’s Day. I’m sure this hasn’t escaped your notice–not if Hallmark has anything to say about it. But just in case it escaped my attention, in the Young Man’s (I’ve been told, and I quote, “STOP! calling me Little, MOM”) homework was the a very terse announcement Monday is Valentines Day! Please have your child bring in valentines for their classmates
Are we feeling the love yet?
So the Young Man and I headed out to our local chain drug-store to acquire said valentines. Our little borough is small enough that you have to get a jump on these things when the homework dictum comes down on Tuesday afternoon. Or, Lord help you, your kid will be sending out the Strawberry Shortcake Valentines–and that’s if you wait until Wednesday. Any later and you are relegated to handing out tiny boxes of the “OOP’s Conversation Hearts.” Evidently, spelling counts in these matters. You can just imagine the outcry when some kid hands his mother a small candy heart and says, “Mom, What does ‘Good F/*/C/K’, mean?” Or the confusion that would be created by the ever popular, “Be Dine” heart. No, no, one must not procrastinate.
On our journey to the store I was informed that not only were we in the market for official valentines, “With Candy!” for his class, but the Young Man would also be purchasing a gift for the lovely and oh, so unattainable fifth grader, Chloe. Yes,  that Chloe!
Really?” I inquired. “What brought this on? Last I heard you were only giving out Valentines to your classmates.”
“I don’t really want to get that deep into it,” he mumbled from the backseat.
Uh-huh, I bet. “Well, Ok, I guess that’s not a problem.†We spent a few minutes wandering the aisles looking for appropriate Valentines for the class. In eight-year old boy speak that means Valentines devoid of hearts and flowers but inclusive of some form of sugar, preferably the sort that creates a real mess. Once we picked out a suitable box and ascertained that there were plenty enough for left-overs (also a crucial requirement for “appropriate”) the real pondering began. What to get Chloe?
He finally settled on a heart shaped box of Ferrero Rocher truffles and a nice but not too gushy card. “What made you change your mind about giving Chloe a Valentine?” I asked.
“That falls under not wanting to go too deep into it, Mom!â€
My kid never ceases to amaze me. He has managed a way to say, “I love you” without uttering a word to a girl he has admired for two years and who will probably always be way out of reach (and so she should be–he’s only eight!). That takes courage of the rarest form: the kind that risks being made a fool by the one you love.  And I can’t help but think about all the lost opportunities in my life to risk, all the times I wished I had stepped out in faith, knowing full well the odds were against me. If you can’t risk for love on Valentine’s day, when can you? You know, and I know, and even he knows he’s going down in flames. But he bought the Valentine just the same.
All I can say is that Chloe is a lucky girl.
Dec 2, 2010 | This Life
I’m counting it a huge win that the tree is bought, inside, and up as today is only the 2nd. We’re going live this year, since our artificial tree died this summer from a case of mold. I’m hoping this Frasier will open up a bit more so I can shape it up a bit. I think we’ll wait to put on the twinkle lights and hope that happens.
Speaking of which, we had to buy  new ones (see dead artificial tree above) and the boy and I tried desperately to talk IZ into blue lights this year. Nothing doing. We were informed in very stern Danish tones, that  Christmas lights aren’t negotiable, “Red lights outside, white lights inside. That’s the way we’ve always done it.”  Then he gave us that look that informed us were C.R.A.Z.Y for thinking anything else. Here I thought I was being all traditional with a real tree, since my first impulse was to find a vintage silver one. Or better yet, a flocked one! Apparently, there are rules about these things. Danish rules. Why am I just now cluing into this fact?
However, looking at that photo above, I will concede it was probably a good idea to choose white against all the yellow in the room. Â But that doesn’t mean we let him have an easy win. Poor IZ has endured an entire day of, “What did blue ever do to YOU?” and “What exactly do you have against blue, anyway?” It’s the price he pays for avoiding a very public hissy fit in Fred Meyer.
And all this talk of blue lights has me thinking it might be time to paint over this yellow to a more blue (and photography) friendly color. You know, for next year. Because if Halloween teaches us nothing each year, it’s that those cheap import twinkle lights have very short life spans. This year’s twinkle lights will need to be replaced eventually. It may not be a blue Christmas this year, but 2011 already has promise.
Nov 29, 2010 | This Life
Fah who for-aze! Dah who dor-aze!? Come on, sing along.
I’ll admit it. Last year I had a serious case of Bah Humbug.* If it weren’t for the fact that we decorate our Christmas Tree first as a Birthday Tree for the boy’s birthday, the tree wouldn’t have even gone up. Decorating? If you count dust and assorted piles of laundry strewn around the house. Then, check! Decorating done. The only baking I did was the annual Chocolate Pie, and only because revolution was threatened if I didn’t. It’s not that I didn’t want to filled with the Spirit of Christmas. I just couldn’t summon my holiday mojo. It was on strike and with good reason.
Part of it was that I bit off way more than I should have in re-doing the boy’s room for his 13th birthday. And part of it was the prospect that we could lose our house due to a severe pay cut and a troubled economy. The reality of our situation was overwhelming. I suspect everyone struggles a bit during the holidays, how to pay for it all, how to balance expectations and the inevitable stress. How to avoid the mall after December 15th. But our struggle with the bank only heightened the experience. And it had me wishing for June.
It’s not much different this year. We’re still waiting on the bank. We call only to be told we’re “in process”. The Grinch has a new name (and it rhymes with BofA). Breathing in. Breathing out. Wait, wait, hurry up and wait.  Most of last winter was wasted on worry; today we’re just moving through our lives. Because worrying changes little except the contours of your face.
So, this year I’m banishing the bah humbug.  I’m summoning my inner Cindy Lou Who and serving notice to the Grinch– Our home is a home because we are together, not because we own it. I’m doing the laundry and decorating the halls. I’m liberally applying sugar sprinkles on edible surfaces. Mostly, I’m choosing to focus on the hands I have to hold. And I’m keeping faith that these little choices will add up.
How about you? What are you doing this year to foster the holiday spirit?
* The holidays are often a trigger for depression. When is it more than just “the blues”? Know the signs.  If you or a loved one is struggling with depression, please seek help. You are not alone. ~~Wende
Nov 24, 2010 | In Photos
When my vacuum wasn’t looking, I snapped a photo of my BFF in action. Sexy, no?
I’m power cleaning our house today so I can sit in my PJs guilt free tomorrow, taking in my yearly fill of celebrity lip-syncing and larger than life helium balloons of cartoons I never watched. What are you doing?
Nov 21, 2010 | Sunday Sermon
Spoke too soon. . .
I had no idea when I quipped about the cold of snow, that snow was in the forecast. Snow is supposed to arrive on Monday, but those white flakes on the roofline in the photo mean the forecast got it wrong. The wintery mix has arrived and at least one person in my house is giddy about it. Every 5 minutes I get a weather update shouted up the stairs, “MOM! The snow is bigger.” “Mom! It’s sticking.”
I don’t think this is the storm for a winter wonderland. My guess is, lots of white stuff will come down and turn to mush upon introduction to the pavement. But it is a harbinger of the winter to come. Snow before Thanksgiving. Despite the passing thrill that white in the air brings, I quickly go into survivor mode. La Nina is never kind. I’m bracing for the worst. Someone hold my hand!
Now, none of this is a sermon. But I’m cognizant that last week’s sermon never arrived. So, I’m making up by being all wordy and pointless. (I’ll let you gather what implications there might be) I know I’ve not been as present as I’d like, but November has been filled with dental appointments and manic Mireio work. Both are subjects my family have long passed boredom over, so I thought I’d spare all of you.
However, November is also that month where we collectively pause to contemplate the blessings in our lives. And while I’ve not been  writing it, I have been thinking it: I am utterly blessed by the readers of this blog. Your presence (here, email, facebook, twitter, real life!) enriches my life in so many ways. Thank you.
I suspect I will be back before the holiday. But should I take the week off… or should you… please know that I am full of gratitude for the part you play in my life. And I am praying for you.
My Thanksgiving wish for you is that you find something, like snow outside your window, to be giddy over, something that makes you pause and be in the moment, something that reminds you just how lovely life is.
Blessings and Happy Thanksgiving,
xoxo Wende
Nov 16, 2010 | This Life
2007– A walk at night with Miss Sophie in the Snow
Ok, so it’s not really snowing here. But my feet would beg to differ. I’m cold! Yeah, I know, whine, whine, whine. Presently, IZ and the boy are off at Costco picking up, among other things I’m sure, an electric throw blanket for miss whines-a-lot. I can’t help it, I’m purple.
And I apologize for the blast from the past photo. I’ve been multi-tasking: taking copious amounts of ibuprofen for a very sore jaw and spending far too much time in the studio. It’s November and Mireio is swapped which doesn’t leave a lot of time for extra-curricular photography or blogging. Â That’s a good thing. A very good thing. But I finding all the dental appointments (and the painful aftermath) to be pressing my juggling skills to their breaking point. So far, I’ve managed to keep all the important balls in the air. But the laundry ball has rolled under the couch and is collecting dust along side the blogging ball.
So, that’s me… cold, whiny, munching pain meds like candy, and hoping the new electric blanket will restore order in my world. Or, at least make me a bit less purple.
UPDATE: It’s 11 pm; I’m snuggled under a warm blanket and can now feel my toes. It’s a veritable sauna on my couch. My husband is a genius and a saint and I need something new to whine about. Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll find something. I’m resilient like that.
Nov 11, 2010 | This Life
Dear God: Kinda going to hold you to that promise, OK? Much love, Wende
Nov 8, 2010 | From the Kitchen, This Life
There were three loaves… but, um, we kinda ate one right out of the oven.
I’m not sure what got into me today. But I woke up with that over-acheiver mentality that sometimes possesses me in my sleep. I swear, it’s IZ whispering to me as I snore, “Sweetie, you should really bake something tomorrow.” I wake up, a list drafted in my sleep, and it always contains more than I can achieve in one day—and apparently an agenda item to “bake.”
And evidently, bake something just as over achieving as my delusional to-do list. What is it about Nissua recipes? Three loaves… everyone one of them? How many  Finnish babies do you think I have anyhow? (that’s a trick question, we’re Danes) Ok, so my teenage boy counts as two, but really, three loaves? What are we going to do with three loaves of Cardamom bread?
So I got productive today. Laundry and errands and even a Spiritual Direction meeting—all the while working the steps that is bread baking.
I have to tell you, I’m feeling pretty smug today. I have no business feeling smug, because only yesterday in my multi-tasking frenzy (it’s a trend this time of year) I over-looked a potentially embarrassing flaw in one of Mireio’s glasses. And then last Friday, on an equally “I can do it all” time warp of a day, I managed to bake under baked brownies—those darn things spent 45 minutes in the oven and still were slushy in the middle. So, really, I have no right being all “I can DO this!” But, I can’t really help myself. I baked bread, people. Three loaves of delightfully airy bread and I didn’t burn down the house. Or forget the laundry. Or mess anything up. I homeschooled the kid, flirted with the husband, signaled before turning, and managed to sit down for afternoon coffee and a slice of bread.
Of course, I totally forgot to put on mascara and the dog still isn’t bathed, but we won’t dwell on that.
As for three loaves of bread and what we’re going to do with them…. well, turns out, that’s not so much a problem. The first loaf is already gone, the second is iced for dessert, and the third? Can you say French Toast in the morning, baby? Yeah, IZ, I’m talking to you.
For all you bread baking enthusiasts: I started with this recipe: Finnish Nissua. But then I ran amok, altered the recipe, and well, you know the drill, click here for a recipe card:Â Cardamom Bread
Nov 7, 2010 | Sunday Sermon
Or at least remember to set your clocks back.
Nov 4, 2010 | In Photos
We’re headed into a week of rain… but the last two days have been lovely. (and what I would do to get those two power lines out of my shot! 😀 )
