The Trouble About Being Deaf

Timeless.  And written by Ashlyn's great, GREAT grandmother 35 years ago.

Back To Sanity

These last two weeks of summer have been dragging.  The weather's been weird.  The girls have been fighting like junior high boys.  We've blown through every DIY toy kit at Michael's.  And Ashlyn is starting to mimic Tom and Jerry.  So, all that being said, I'm kind of happy for this day.

Kayla starts 2nd grade with Mrs. Rhodes and Mrs. Esposto.  Both are new mommies and will be co-teaching.

Ashlyn continues at her preschool program with Teachers Jackie, Renee, Maria and Marie.  She'll also have speech therapy with Teacher Kjirsten and physical therapy with Teacher Bridgette.

It's been real, summer.

So Long San Mateo Snickerdoodle Cupcakes

I love these two.  Almost as much as the cupcakes they are holding.  OK, more.  But barely (they are REALLY good).

They leave on Friday for Azusa Pacific University.  Mikey, a returning senior and Margaret, an incoming junior.  We are used to Mikey leaving but Margaret, not so much.  SAD, sad day.  We aren't even telling Ashlyn.

We said goodbye at church last night with cupcakes.  They help with the sadness.

1 1/2 cups all purpose flour, 1 1/2 cups cake flour (NOT self rising), 1 tablespoon baking powder, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1 tablespoon cinnamon. 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter (at room temp), 1 3/4 cups sugar, 4 large eggs (at room temp), 2 teaspoons vanilla extract and 1 1/4 cups milk.

Cinnamon Cream Cheese Frosting:  1 package cream cheese (at room temp), 4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) butter (at room temp), 4 cups powdered sugar and 1 teaspoon cinnamon.

Preheat oven to 350.  Line muffin tins with paper liners.  Mix together both flours, baking powder, salt and 1 tablespoon cinnamon.

With an electric mixer on medium speed, cream butter and sugar until pale and fluffy.  Add eggs and beat until incorporated, scraping along sides of bowl when necessary.  Beat in vanilla.  Reduce speed to low.  Add flour mixture in three batches, alternating with two additions of milk and beating until combined after each.

Divide batter evenly among lined cups, filling each three quarters full.  Bake about 20 minutes and test with toothpick to be sure they are done.  Transfer to wire racks and cool completely.

For the frosting: blend cream cheese and butter on low speed until combined, about 30 seconds.  Stop the machine.  Add the powdered sugar, a little at a time, blending on low speed until the sugar is well incorporated, about 1 minute.  Add the cinnamon then increase the mixer speed to medium and blend the frosting until fluffy, about 1 minute more.

After cupcakes are frosted, sprinkle tops with cinnamon and sugar.  Chill in the fridge before serving.

Five Years Ago

Our country changed forever.  And,  the following December, so did I.  Post-Katrina, Dave went to Mississippi 4 times.  First, in April of 2006 to organize the logistics  of bringing a group to help with the restoration of the devastated area.  He returned with teams in August of 2006, December of 2006 and August of 2007.

I was able to go once.  I was 6 months pregnant with Ashlyn and spent much of my time sifting though the rubble of destroyed homes, searching for  missing treasures and lost heirlooms.  Work that could only be done by one so disconnected from the memories that it was not overwhelmingly painful to find them all broken.

We spent much of our time at Paul and Stella's house.  As the others worked to build a drainage trench around their property, I began sifting.  Stella told me stories about her family, her grandchildren especially.  About the fact that her husband, Paul was a writer.  And about her famous french onion soup she had served every Christmas Eve in beautiful cobalt blue soup bowls.

Most of what I found that day was small, shattered and unrecognizable.  But I continued to sift and dig.  Later that afternoon, I saw a teeny, tiny piece of cobalt blue buried in what used to be their vegetable garden.  I assumed it broken, but to my surprise, pulled out an entire soup bowl, perfectly in tact.   The most beautiful soup bowl I had ever seen.  I called over to Stella and she was thrilled.  We hugged.  We cried.  She ran it back to her FEMA trailer, excited to pair it with its' top that a neighbor had found many months earlier.

We did other things that week.  More important things.  Like electrical work and fence repair.  Lots of yard clean-up and debris removal.  We sheet rocked and painted.  We dug lots of trenches to prepare for their rainy season.  But Stella and her cobalt blue soup bowl, I will remember forever.

God taught me many things in Mississippi.  Earthly treasures can be gone as quickly as they come and it is important that I not find value or identity in them.  I learned that every person has a story and if we claim to care for them, we need to listen.

And, I was reminded that it is  not about what we DO.  It's not about the scope or size of our job or how far we travel to complete it.  It is not about our talents and abilities.  We do not gain favor in God's eyes or earn our way to heaven by DOING.  As Christians, we are saved by grace, not by works.  In our good works, we show our appreciation for the grace we have received and our love for Jesus.

"For by grace you have been saved, through faith.  And this is not your own doing; it is a gift from God.  Not a result of works, so that no one may boast.  For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them."  Ephesians 2:8-10

heatWAVE

Chipotle Sundays

An unspoken tradition of sorts.  Chipotle take-out at our house after service.  I love these nights.  Planning, dreaming, praying for what God wants for this body of believers.  And the best chips and salsa on the planet.

P.S.  You've probably noticed I've remained rather quiet about my weight loss.  It's because there's really not much to say.  It's the chips and salsa's fault.

Not So Friendly Acres

Good thing Kayla doesn't read this yet.  She would not be happy about my little excursion this morning.  But I'm still not sure that I am even happy about my little excursion this morning.  My lower extremities hurt like I just birthed a third child and I can barely type because my palms are bruised from gripping  the saddle knob thing (which I'm sure has a technical name but I'm too lazy to look it up).  Whatever it's called, it's FAR too small.

While most of the other horses at Friendly Acres Ranch walked, paused to eat, waited patiently and followed instructions, my horse, Suerte was straight rogue.  And bff's with the only other rogue horse of the bunch.  It's no coincidence his name means luck in Spanish.  You need ALOT of it when you ride him.

Don't let my smile fool you.  I once heard that horses, like dogs, sense fear.   Right after this picture was taken, his brisk trot quickly escalated into a full sprint.  And he ignored my multiple reign pulling requests to slow down.  At which point, I closed my eyes, began to acquire my palm bruises and pretended to be riding in a convertible.  But screamed like I was on a roller coaster.  The horse whisperer looked at me in disgust.  The things I do for you, Kim.  And your birthday.