Dance for Your Supper

One of our New Year’s Resolutions a few years ago was to dance more! Our excuse had always been that the places to dance were smoky and we don’t smoke. We’d taken a whack at ballroom dancing lessons at a Jr. College, but only went once because I just wanted to dance with Terry, my husband, and ended up having to dance with a bunch of other sweaty, old men in whom I didn’t know or care to dance with. So when my husband saw line dancing lessons advertised in our local newspaper, he signed us up! The classes were held at Jolly’s, a local tavern/restaurant and since Washington State prohibits smoking in all bars and restaurants we knew we’d be spared smoky air.

Let the House Fairy Help Your Kids

If you'd like to listen to this blog, Pam recorded it so you could get some mindless job accomplished while you listen.

Chances are, if your kids are in a mess it’s because you’re in one too. But there’s hope. Your children can get organized when you make it fun. What will make the difference? Magic! But in order to put magic into the mix, you’ll need to call upon your children’s imagination. Think of the power you have around Christmastime with Santa and his elves lurking around and checkin’ his list. Kids’ imaginations run as smoothly as Michelle Kwan behind a Zamboni. They’re natural imaginers! And that’s where the House Fairy comes in!

Playing Hurt

My husband Terry loves to watch professional football and I like to watch it with him. Over the years, I’ve enjoyed learning the rules of the game from him and of course I get a kick out of some of those adorable quarterback bodies in their tight uniforms.

A Magical Date Night 

Married woman who are organized schedule a weekly date night on the calendar. A weekly date night is essential if you want to remember why you married the guy in the first place. We're like computers and a date night is like re-booting and receiving updates.  

 If you don't schedule it, you won't do it and you know what happens to a computer that isn't rebooted regularly.

A Magical Date Night

Our son gave us a gift certificate to Andina, a restaurant in Portland, Oregon. We used it last night for our weekly date night. 

Because we'd never heard of the place, we had no expectations. Turns out it’s rated as the best restaurant in Portland! Since we didn’t make reservations, we felt lucky to get a table for two even if it was in the bar and squished in between two other tables for two. The place was crowded and bursting with gaiety. The aroma of good food was pleasant torture as we salivated over dishes being brought to various tables around us as we tried to figure out the big menu in Peruvian. There were descriptions of the dishes in English, but they didn’t really help that much. I chose:

ATÚN CON TACU TACU Y AGUAYMANTO
Seared yellow tuna sprinkled with black pepper and orange zest, (I was tracking so far) served with traditional lima bean tacu tacu, (I had to ask our waiter what tacu tacu was and he said it was smooshed lima beans; no wonder they decided to go with the tacu tacu verbage) orange wedges, endive spears and salsa criolla, (I figured the criolla part meant hot and spicy and I was delightfully right about that) drizzled with a cape gooseberry-ají amarillo sauce (I was impressed that the gooseberries came from some cape maybe Cod or Canaveral, and I was pretty sure Amarillo was a liqueur I remember liking in my liqueur drinking days). The tuna was scrumptious and the mashed up lima beans were close to addictive.

Feeding the Squeamish

One of my adult relatives who shall remain nameless has SES (Squeamish Eater Syndrome). I love her in spite of her affliction. As a mother, I’m familiar with squeamish eaters. Out of my three kids, only one was a real squeamer, Joanna. The list of foods that could bring on her gag reflex was endless. The best way to get the gaggers into her, with their valuable vitamins and nutrients, was to buy a food processor and purée the identity out of them. Most children are not as bad as Joanna was and I’m pleased to report that as an adult, she has made friends with many of her childhood food enemies.

It's Almost County Fair Time

I love the Clark County fair! I’ve been going to it since I was nine-years-old. Every summer, my parents used the fair as a bargaining chip with a list of extra chores I could do to make money for the rides. I don’t do the rides anymore, but there’s still something irresistible about the fair all these years later! We can see the fairgrounds from I-5 and as soon as the carnival sets up the Ferris Wheel and the latest rides, my imagination begins to stir.

Even before the fair opens I can smell the aroma of fair food, which is one of the main draws for me. That delicious fragrance of grilled hamburgers, fried onions and deep fried corn dogs wafting through the air carrying with it culinary reminders that there’s the church pie booth and another vendor that makes fresh soft chocolate ice cream. On fair day I get my yearly quota of carbohydrates and grease.

Be Happy Now: Your Problems are a Window to Your Success!

It’s time to love yourself NOW, not when your circumstances are different!

When you deepen your relationship with YOU and take the time to look at yourself with new eyes and truly honor the holiness within you, your circumstances will change with ease and grace. Your problems are a window to your success, whether you’re in a mess at home, in a relationship that’s frustrating, feeling a financial crunch, in a body that weighs too much, whatever, the very thing you call a problem is an opportunity to get to learn more about yourself and love who you are.

Hunger is the Best Sauce

I left my husband home alone last week and went to Seattle to babysit two of my grandchildren. I left a freezer full of food, some to cook from scratch (scratch that option, Terry can cook rice and boil eggs) and soups and entrées to simply defrost and heat. I also left salad makings in the fridge and there were nuts and low carb treats in a little basket for him.

Nelly's Birthday: My Declaration of Independence

It was 2 am and I sat sniveling in my silk pajamas at my computer. I had decided to call my sister in the morning before our families got together for the 4^th of July festivities and tell her I would not be writing a “humorous” book about organizing household finances with her. The reason was simple; I had no business telling anyone what to do when it came to money. At the not-so-tender age of 59 I had no retirement, no savings and I was $26,000.00 in credit card debt! The book we were to write together would absolutely get me out of debt, but my ethics would not allow me to be part of a lie. No way could I write a do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do book.

You Know What I Mean?

The last thing I want to do in my old age, is get grouchy, but if I don’t get this irksome aggravation under control and off my chest, I’m afraid I’m going to snap and get cranky. I don’t want to hurt anyone, because I wouldn’t do well in prison since I have to have my special pillow, I like the temperature at a constant 70 degrees and I don’t think I’d like bread and water or all that inmate noise. I’m hoping if I explain what’s bugging me to you, I’ll feel better and be able to cope with it the next time it happens (which is often).