Chopping Up a Watermelon at 4:00AM

"Why are you chopping up a watermelon at 4 o'clock in the morning?", my dear husband asked.  My reply, "I don't know what else to do at 4 o'clock in the morning." 

You see, sometimes in life you have to view your circumstances and take advantage of opportunities that otherwise will not come around again.  The watermelon on the counter at 4:00am was one of those "opportunities."  Carpe Diem.

Last night I fell asleep tucking Jett in. (It's about 60/40 on any given night this will happen. "Curious George and the Baseball Game" is a really relaxing book.)  I woke up around Midnight to have a brief conversation with my husband that included his intention to be ready for the day by 4:00am so that he could get to the farm to plant. This meant that I needed to get up and shower and prep for the day at 3:30am. (Why? Well that's a good question that involves a toddler who is a light sleeper, a noisy hair drier, and a fear that I'll be faced with a day of meetings and my hair sticking out in all directions, or worse, hair that's still wet.)

So, by 4:00am, I had a choice, a) go back to bed, and risk bed-head in all of its glory, or b) get up and start the day.  Obviously I went with "option b".  Now normally this would be my perfect time to do homework, but I submitted my last final for the semester on Sunday night.  The list of things I could do at this time of the morning is quite long (and apparently includes blogging) but the watermelon was there starring me in the face, as I came to the realization that now would actually be the only time I could cut up the watermelon.  What an "opportunity"...

So there I was standing in the kitchen holding a large knife, hacking up a watermelon in the wee hours of the morning. I contemplated life, Costco, and why I bought a watermelon in the first place.

I couldn't help but think back to my high school musical "Guys and Dolls", standing on stage more than a decade ago in character as Miss Sarah Brown, watching Sky Masterson sing "My Time of Day", and thinking about what a romantic concept the early hours of the morning were. 

Chopping up a watermelon at 4:00am was not exactly the picture I had envisioned...

Good morning friends!  I hope you have a wonderful day, and if you have a hankering for watermelon, I have three tupperware in my fridge ready to share.

A Chicken in Every (Crock) Pot

In 1928 the Republican Party used the quote “A Chicken in Every Pot…” in a political campaign for Herbert Hoover as president.  Wikipedia tells me that this phrase actually has its roots in seventeenth century France when Henry the IV wished his peasants prosperity.  What does this have to do with anything?  Well for one, this is a phrase my mom has said on occasion and I didn’t really know what it meant until it appeared in my economics text this semester.   Cool.   Secondly, I put a chicken in the Crockpot this morning and my house didn’t burn down, so I’m thinking that’s pretty good prosperity. 

If you have been so kind to have read this blog before, you know that I have an irrational fear of my Crockpot.  I’ve stated this in occasional conversation in the last few months and I’ve determined that this should be right up there with topics you don’t discuss in polite company like religion or politics.  I have been told that I’m crazy, and the Crockpot is the working mom’s best friend.  I think I’ve actually offended a few people as though the Crockpot is their friend. It’s all very strange.

But, today was the second time in 2013 that I used the frightful appliance, and the house is still standing.  I may be ready to conquer my other irrational fears like getting stuck in an elevator or watching a movie about crop-circles on the SciFi Network.  Or not…

I’ve been contemplating the restaurant desert that is my favorite town, and have been hungry for Indian food.  Hy-Vee Chinese buffet doesn’t count, but it's honestly the closest thing we have.   So for my Crockpot adventure I did a Google search for Tandoori Chicken in the Crockpot, where I found a blog post by author Stephanie O'Dea who used a Crockpot for like every day in a year, and I would guess her house is still standing.  I’ve never stumbled on this blog before, but I already know I like the author as she has a similar aversion to chicken guts, and lots of ideas of what to do with a Crockpot.  So about 6:25am this morning between straightening my hair and waking sweet baby, I attempted a loosely crafted version of this dish.  (There is no Jessica-edited recipe, no pictures.  I used the Rachael Ray style of measuring and stuck a lemon in where the guts used to be.  Very culinarian.) It turned out to be very tasty and my family actually ate it.  Crockpot lovers, you win this round.

In other news, I haven’t been blogging because I’ve been studying economics and Starbucks. (Literally, I have a project due on the organizational theory behind Starbucks…sadly, I haven’t been drinking enough…Starbucks.)  Technically it is “Spring Break” but as good as JCrew is for retail therapy, somehow buying a wardrobe that looked like it belonged in St. Barts, hasn’t actually not gotten me to a sunny beach.  If you’ve posted pictures of your tan and umbrella drinks on Facebook, I would normally say I’ve deleted you.  This year I’m saying, please take me with you!  Mama needs a vacation. 

Spring Break 2013

I figure we are about two weeks away from the 2013 barrage of friends' photos from spring break trips from Cancun to Key West.  So I'm really super excited to be the very first among you to post pictures from our thrilling spring break staycation.

This trip was a big deal for our little family as we determined that it was the very first time we all stayed away from home together for more than one night.  So as my little sister packed for her semester-long Italian adventure, her big sister's family hit the road for a thrilling weekend in Beatrice, NE. Leaving after work, we made a stop at Grandma Clara's for pizza and playtime, and then proceeded to roll into the big city around 10pm.  Way past everyone's bedtime. 

Daddy left the next morning bright and early to work cattle, leaving Jett and I to a day of exploration.  First we enjoyed the gourmet breakfast bar at the hotel, where Jett enjoyed watching the pancake machine.  We were upgraded to a room with a view.  Jett's favorite view of a Ford dealership, and just beyond the horizon we could see the shining bright green of a John Deer implement.

After taking in the view and lounging in our suite, we set out to see the sites and found a very big, very orange playground at the YMCA. 

It was a balmy 40 degrees so before long our course was changed indoors where we watched elementary basketball practice.  All that exploration made us hungry again and Jett got to have his very first McDonald's Happy Meal.  Excitement didn't quit as we got to watch a man in a red lift and bucket fix the lights on the golden arches. 

Our morning adventure left us feeling quite exhausted so back to the resort we went for a little siesta.  We woke up just in time to join our cousins at another fun park.  For a little afternoon snack, we visited Dairy Queen where it was about 105 degrees, and if you closed your eyes and used your imagination the Blizzard machine sounded just like the roar of the ocean.

Soon it was time for the main event, the St. Paul Lutheran School carnival.  There were games of all kinds from cake walk to bean-bag toss - our favorite! 

There was even a big fake cow that we got to touch. We happily waved goodbye to everyone and finished our adventure with pizza at a quasi-alfresco cafe on a beautiful deck looking out on the inside of the furniture store in the mall. 

 

I sincerely hope that I haven't made you too jealous. I wish you lots of sunshine and excitement on your own spring break trips this year!



Wrap-It-Up!

Each year on the 23^rd, my sister and I go crazy and wrap gifts.  We’re not sure why it’s the 23^rd exactly, but for as long as we can remember we’ve wrapped gifts on that date.  We pull out the wrapping, the ribbon, and the creativity. 

While watching Elf and sipping hot cocoa, here is the before.

 

Gifts to my husband are always a strange size, bulky, huge, or just plain awkward. Notice the gigantic floor jack in the middle of the photo.  How does one actually wrap something like that?  Lillie had the challenge of wrapping him some equally awkward dust masks this year.  It only took about 5 seconds of rolling on the floor laughter to find a way to display this gift.

I hope your Christmas was full of favorite traditions, lots of love, and the blessing of time with family. 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Coming up, stay tuned as I kick off the new year with the 2013 Use-It-Up challenge.

Greek Parties, All Nighters, and Co-Ed Roommates

Reflecting on my undergraduate experience, I feel as though I didn't fully take advantage of being a college student.  I never attended a greek party, had very few all nighters, and lived roommate free the last two years.  But that all changes on Monday. 

I plan to start my graduate program off right with lots of greek (yogurt) parties with Jett, frequent all nighters (he still wakes up at 1:30 a.m., so I might as well too), and this time around I get to be one of those slightly edgy, modern students who have co-ed roommates, not just one but two!

Friday morning I reported to orientation for graduate school.  In true University System fashion, I was greeted on campus by a full 25 minute tour of parking lots on "official move-in day."  Successfully finding one near the building I checked my email from the program coordinator no less than four times to make sure that she had verified that no parking passes were needed.  (A veteran around University parking, and a holder of let's just say more than one parking ticket in my day, I was a little sceptic that it could be that easy.)

Walking on to campus the sounds of the drum line and cool fresh morning air made me feel just a little nostalgic for my previous beginning days at UNL.  Entering into the bookstore I felt old, like super old, like almost 30 old.  They were out of all used copies of my texts and one of my research methods books was not in stock yet, so my first round of bills (not counting the one I purchased from Amazon) totalled $121.96.  I had forgotten about that fun part of the collegiate experience.

The orientation was beyond interesting, as we learned about the prestige of the program (top rated program in the University System and top 10 MPA program in the country), and met the other fascinating students in the online program, hailing across the U.S. from Alaska to South Carolina. 

The department chair and our professors gave a brief presentation about the course work and emphasized and re-emphasized how difficult the program would be.  Fortunately I know and really like one of the professors having worked with her on a project for the Foundation.  The other professor, well, he teaches research methods and statistics and obviously loves his line of work, which already makes us incompatible.  Picture your stereotypical professor and then subtract 15 years, then add a deep love of statistics and a slightly devious will to be the hardest professor in the program.  As we walked through the lunch line as a group (signal flashbacks from Red Letter Days) I commented to him that I thought his class looked interesting.  He gave a half smile and said, "Well, I guess that's one way to put it."  He then proceeded to ask me where I was from and why I was in the online program if I was just from Fremont.  I shared that I worked full time, had a toddler and a very busy husband, and that the online program provided the flexibility I needed.  Not kidding you, he looked at me, rolled his eyes and said, "Uh huh, I guess we'll see..."

Bring it on, Mr. Statistics.  Bring it on. 

(Just for spite this morning I listened to his introductory notes while cleaning the kitchen and doing free weights.  I'm confident he wouldn't have approved.)

Here we go again...my roommate is already up and partying this morning.

Bringing "Sexy" Back to Power Walking

I know that when I walk down the street I'm turning some heads. Yes that's right, I'm bringing sexy back to power walking with free weights.  Just give me some sandals to wear with my socks, and I will officially be rocking the neighborhood with my chicness.

I'm walking tall, not just swinging my arms alongside mind you, nope I'm pumping, punching, and curling those bright blue 3 lb. weights to get the most out of my two miles.  If I see you on the street, in your car, or at the ball field, you better believe I will give you a big wave.  But don't be ashamed if you don't wave back, its okay, I know my hotness is pretty intimidating, sneakers, holey shirt and all.