Life: Idiotropic

Third Snow

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Sun, 22 Jan 2012 03:52:00 +0000

It snowed last night.

Our third snow. It froze and left beautiful lines of crystal on each branch and worked magic on the long needles of our white pines.

I didn't take any pictures.

These last couple weeks have been one of those mundane blurs. I finished a book and started a book. I've cooked a few new things and seen a few new things.

I've been to doctors appointments and hung out in the ER. No one's dying, but we still have some health issues to figure out. I still have a kid who hasn't been to school in nearly 2 months.

So here I am. I have a full camera card and no motivation at the moment to unload it and post, so this will just have to suffice until tomorrow or next week when my head is clearer and I've managed to unbury myself from the mounds on my desk.

There are goals and deadlines and I will meet them regardless of life's sharp turns.

It seems that as a wife of one and mother of four that there is always something that pulls at me and while I will accept that and meet the responsibilities and challenges, I also need to find the resources within myself to make time for my dreams and goals.

Not only for me, but for the daughters who look to me for an example, I need to manage my time and energy level so that I can meet my needs as well as theirs.

So, here it goes.

Two good things I'm doing for me because being a good mom means taking care of yourself too.

     1. I purchased plane tickets and will be spending a week in San Francisco in March visiting family and my grandmother in particular.

     2. I've enrolled in a pottery class and will be learning to use a wheel, something I've wanted to do for like forever. It starts Monday.

Magnetic Creativity

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 20:50:00 +0000

I love that my girls have not out grown creativity and imagination.

I love that I can turn off the television and computer, give them a day or a week "technology free" and they will rise to the challenge coming up with activities that are fun and exercise that little squishy thing floating around in their skull.

I love walking out of my room, peering over the bridge down into the living room and seeing scenes like this.

Elise spent over an hour on these crowns. Probably closer to two.

A basket of magnetic rods and balls + one creative child = a masterpiece "facinator."

Photo: The Second Snow

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 17:14:00 +0000

One wags her tail in excitement and jumps at clumps of snow tossed in the air like a ball. She sniffs it and likes it and tries to take a bite. She jumps around mouth open wide and tries to catch snow flakes like my girls do. She loves the snow and doesn't want to come in until she has a nice collection of snowflakes on her fur and a set of soggy paws.

The other slinks out because he's pushed, then follows the curve of the flower pot to find the one patch of dry deck left on this snowy day. He hides there skulking for just a few minutes as if to say that he's given it a shot even though it's clear that he hasn't. There isn't a single kitty paw print in this snow. But he'll be persistent and wait, ears-down, and cranky.

Flag Ponds

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 16:34:00 +0000

I can always count on Luci to join me in an outing. When others are all nestled in with jammies and books, movies, and internet time keeping warm, I'm usually going crazy, wanting to get out, do something, see something and Luci's my fearless buddy who can find beauty in a fallen tree.

Today we took the short walk to the beach at Flag Ponds state park. There are long nature trails available, hikes through ponds and forest, but the days are so short that we didn't want to get stuck on a trail in the dark and this park closes its gates at 5 in the winter.

The beach is much longer than the one at Calvert Cliffs and boasts just as many fossil finds.

Luci and I began our hunt through crushed shell and oyster halves in and out of the clear shallow waters of the Chesapeake Bay. A family near the pier yelled to each other each time they found something. Frustration increased with each yell as we'd ask again each time the other bent down to pick something up, "Did you find something?" And the other would answer with "No" or "Yes, but not a shark tooth."

I didn't find any teeth in my walk, but did freeze my feet walking in that icy water in flip-flops (it would snow the next day) and found a lot of pretty little shells. We poked at the hundreds of small dead jellyfish in the water. It wasn't obvious that they were dead. They didn't bother my frozen feet, but Luci thinks she was stung.

The park ranger asked if we found any fossils. We said no and while Luci looked down to our left, he dropped two into the water on our right and told her to look there.

She's happy with her two shark teeth though she didn't want to stop looking.

This park is beautiful. We'll be back with more sensible shoes and a net for gathering rocks and shells from the water.

Photo: The First Snow

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 16:53:00 +0000

Snow blew sideways followed by sun. Logan had never seen snow like this. She ran out excitedly like a child released in a toy store, then jumped around mouth open trying to catch the flakes as they blew. It didn't last long enough. The girls won't even have enough to make a snowball, but it was enough for us to see, smile, and then squeal with delight after a couple years without it. "Snow!!!"

Sushi New Years

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 05:30:00 +0000

This New Year's Eve, a rare and beautiful thing happened...

... I was kicked out of my kitchen. No help nor advice was needed. I was allowed to go, download photos, read, hang out, lolligag. I'm not exactly sure how I filled those hours, but filled them I did half in amazed excitement and half in uncomfortable worry. It's strange to give up control of one's kitchen.

And tonight, the girl who's watched me make sushi and has only made it once by herself would don the title of master and teacher as she made the rice and showed her dad how to make the rolls.

Then the apprentice taught another daughter who made quite a few herself.

It took hours. At least 3. Which more than explained to them the infrequency in which I treat my family to sushi nights. But it was amazing.

The fillings weren't centered, but that's because the rice didn't cover the entire nori sheet, but they still turned out absolutely delicious.

In fact, they sort of put mine to shame.

Kirk took chances, got creative, and even made tempura shrimp to use a filling. Combined with avocado and smoked salmon, it was the night's winner.

So I spend my last moments of 2012 with my family, kicking back, relaxing, sipping mojitos, and feasting on the most delicious sushi dinner that's ever come out of this household. It was beautiful.

For the kids, we had banana splits for dessert, then played UNO until midnight. Dick Clark celebrated his 40th New Year's in NY and we counted down with him. Elise slept through it crashing just 27 minutes short of midnight.

We brought in the New Year with laughter, Prosecco, and the traditional kiss (to the disgust of our daughters).

Happy New Year to you! I hope that 2012 brings you pleasant surprises... and may be even a castle (Luci's self-proclaimed "best drawing ever").

Skating in the New Year

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 05:51:00 +0000

The stroke of midnight would happen at home, safe, warm, and together. We like to begin each year as a family.

But this morning, with the sun blazing, we thought we'd do something different to mark today and headed into D.C. to skate at the National Art Galleries Sculpture Garden which sits directly in front of the National Archives.

Each session lasts two hours which is about all we can take. It was hot today. Some people were bundled up, but most were stripping off layers as beads of sweat ran down their faces.

Tiny children zoomed this way and that as full grown adults clung to the walls. I understand. It's scarier to fall when you're tall and things are more apt to break. My kids (and Kirk) came and stopped at the wall to chat at nearly each circle blocking the wall for the clingers who stumbled around nervously or just looked at us forelorn until they moved away.

With lockers just half the size of my purse, I was the bag lady/photographer who stood at one end and watched guarding Kirk's backpack, my purse and two others amid the pile of jackets and sweatshirts the girls had pulled off in the heat.

I sat next to an Italian family. I took me a few minutes to be sure of the accent. They spoke with a dialect that took me a few minutes more listening until I was sure they were Italian and struck up a conversation. They're from Catania, Sicily. *Sigh* I have so many Sicilian friends that I feel as if I should have been there multiple times by now and was sad to say I hadn't. We spent last New Year's in Tuscany. Now this Italian family will watch fireworks tonight in Baltimore. It felt great to sit and visit. I miss that about our European adventure - the ability to connect with so many people from different places.

The original plan included a casual stroll through the National Art Gallery or the Air and Space Museum.

At 1:00 the girls exited the ice and limped over. Three had blisters and the fourth had banged up knees from multiple falls (which she laughed through). No one could walk well. One was carried.

We walked/hobbled/whined to the car and called it a day finding a fast way out of the city and looking forward to some quiet time at home before our sushi night.

Lesson learned:
        ~ The rental skates are HORRIBLE. Wear thick socks. You'll need the padding.
        ~ If you want to skate, bring a teeny tiny purse. Lockers will barely fit a par of boots and won't fit a camera bag.
        ~ Just to be sure, go to the museum FIRST, then skate until your feet are blistered. Bring bandaids, neosporin, and a lancet.

Ego Boost

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Sat, 31 Dec 2011 02:08:00 +0000

There's nothing like a haircut to transform a smile and give a boost and may be even uncover a bit of growing up had been hiding under the guise of unkept hair.

All three of my younger girls got trims today at a small local salon with a sweet hairdresser who gave them nice simple cuts with just enough style. They all came away looking so pretty, but this one, at her age, came away changed a bit.

That old shabby hair clipped away, she looked instantly more grown up, so much so, that Tiara was eager to give her a little makeover.

She's growing up. And this is just 10.

Gracies.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 01:50:00 +0000

Gracies.

It's not spelled wrong. It's just Valenciano, a language that I find hauntingly beautiful, exotic, yet as comforting as home.

It's a word that was taught to me by my friend, Carmen along with the words taronger, taula, and tallat. She'd come to my table of friends with a phrase in Valenciano. I'd mix the few words I knew with Castellano which I know a bit better. She'd smile and correct me - a patient teacher.

I loved the family first, this sweet Valencian family who ran my favorite bakery, the ones I'd linger and talk with even after my friends had gone home, the ones I learned from and laughed with and began to feel connected to. Not just suppliers of coffee and sweet, they became family without intent. I learned to love the language as an extension of them and of the land that I'd come to call "home" even though it isn't.

So this Christmas I sent a little package to surprise them, then saw through emails of friends who still gather there for coffee that it was received with joy.

And today a box came for us and we excitedly opened it to find a bit of "home" within, the traditional casca's that Elise had helped make last year, chocolate covered almond pieces, traditional turrones, and Eliseo's newest sweet: his twist on Italian pannetone.

We've enjoyed it all, savoring each and ever familiar flavor wishing we could run down there right now and shower them all with hugs and thanks.

I'm grateful for so much more that the box of sweets though - it's truly the thought, the love, and the knowledge that we mean as much to them as they do to us.

Gracies, Carmen. Gracies, familia. Feliç 2012. I hope to see you soon.

The PUSH to Patterson Park.

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 01:25:00 +0000

There are days when the sun shines and we all find ourselves inside busy with random projects. One of us (usually me) will suddenly realize that the sun is shining and then be stuck with a pang of guilt that we are not all outside doing something wonderful, so I run around the house and stop everyone in the middle of what ever they're doing and wildly exclaim, Let's go DO something! It's sunny!! Let's go OUTSIDE!!!"

I'm usually met by grunts of resistance from people who are warm, comfortable, entrenched in something else, and who don't "feel like" going anywhere or just don't "feel like" getting their shoes on.

It drives me crazy.

Sometimes I give up, retire to my office, and look longingly at the rays of sun sneaking through the blinds. Often I dig in my heals, announce that we're leaving in 30 minutes, and harass all 5 members of my family until they cave. Then I drag them grumpy and whining OUT, somewhere, anywhere, because we're going to get out and "have fun as a family if it kills us."

And by the time we actually arrive somewhere, I think we're teetering on the verge with kids fighting and everyone in a general state of rebellion. I begin to regret the "push" and those last words, "if it kills us," because it's feeling awfully close.

But then the car stops. We park. I bellow at everyone to open the doors and get out. Feet find the ground. Legs start moving.

Then all of the sudden, we're transformed into this other family, the fun one, the one who loves being outdoors. The kids run and play and explore forging their own paths through the woods and searching for rocks and bones and what ever else they can find.

We always find something new. Today it was a constant stream of Canadian Geese migrating in from the north, resting here, on the water and in the fields on their way further south. They glide effortlessly, feet down as they approach the water and land so lightly, it seems they won't even make a ripple, then alight again together.

I find peace behind the lens and zen in moments of snap happy contentment.

The dog finds a stick or two or three and rediscovers her love for water as long as her feet can touch.

We watch the sunset across the Patuxent and feel the temperatures dropping around us.

I couldn't get them to leave the house and now I can't get them to go home.

But we load up in the car anyway because there isn't much daylight left and even the geese are coming in for the night, off of the water and onto the land where they'll huddle together for warmth in the thousands and create music with their honking.

And someone in the family will almost always admit that it was a good idea to go out and I'll smile and nod knowing that next time I'll have to push just as hard to get them out the door.

Festival of Light

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 18:15:00 +0000

There's something completely wrong here. It's not the candles nor the faces. It won't be captured on film. It's a feeling that melted away this final night of Hanukkah, the only night that we celebrated this year.

Each year I plan. I make lists and find recipes. I paint my house with intentions and dress myself in enthusiasm. For Hanukkah, for Christmas, for all the things we'll do together to celebrate this beautiful season. Christmas for my faith, Hanukkah for the tradition of my grandparents and the enduring truth it represents - another of God's miracles.

Every year I try to get ahead so we can relax and really enjoy the true "reason for the season." The focus should be about that. We all know it, so why is it so hard to do?

There are parties and errands, cookies to bake and recitals to attend. There's just too much "stuff" to do like I'm hiking up an icy slope, two feet forward, 3 feet back, falling farther behind the faster I run.

This year I managed only the last night (thank goodness there are 8). We gathered together in the living room with our menorahs filled. I could only find one box of candles at the store this year, so we only had enough candles for one night anyway.

I told my girls the story of Hanukkah and the miracle of the oil. Elise filled in details she'd learned in class and showed us how to dance the Hora. We lit the candles and watched them burn. It was happy and peaceful.

There is no work when the candles are lit. It's a time of joy and celebration. It's a gift to relax, to sit, to take in the beauty of the lights.

But it's the last night and I'm sad that it took us so long to settle down and find the time. I'll start the year with resolve. I'll again make lists and find ideas. But somewhere in that flurry, may be I just need to sit, to light some candles, to remember God's miracles and His blessings, to listen intently to His plan, and not to work again until the last candle has gone out.

Photo(s) of the Day: Christmas Dinner

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 04:50:00 +0000

Local Christmas decor in Calvert County Maryland.

So, new in Maryland and with our families on the opposite coast, we headed over to Ken and Sarah's house for Christmas dinner. They graciously invited and we were so happy to accept and be a part of the celebrations that are always animated and never dull. Amazing food, friendly people, and just the right amount of wacky.

KJ and Mikey sing: "Faaaaaaall on your knees..."

Singing brings out the joy in people. I'd sing Christmas carols year 'round if my family would endure it. I've checked. Apparently, I am alone in this feeling. :(

This Christmas I got my baby holding/cuddle quota (and so did T).

Aunt Sarah and Uncle Ken have the phenomenal ability to pick out the most perfect gifts.

Merry Christmas

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 00:46:00 +0000

Merry Christmas means sleeping past 5am. Six is a real treat as is the permission to shower before the gifts are opened.

Christmas is letting the less patient members of the family go first so they can be happy and content and less likely to steal every one else's toys.

Christmas is smart. Books are a carefully disguised adventure wrapped in a dust jacket.

Christmas is fashionable yet utilitarian (and best if it can fit a book or two).

Christmas smells good and looks great in pink ear muffs.

Christmas is active and adventurous. An archery set and special time with dad.

(While mom has "A Christmas Story" quotes streaming through her head.)

Christmas can be delicious. (Which is why January usually isn't.)

Christmas is all sort of hugs...

... and generosity (and the joy of watching someone opening the thing that you carefully picked out)...

... and family.

Christmas is love.

Merry Christmas from our home to yours!

Christmas Eve

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Sat, 24 Dec 2011 22:43:00 +0000

Before.

Christmas Eve is a time of peace, love, joy... yada yada yada. I imagine myself curled up on the couch in some magical pajamas that are soft and cozy, not too warm, but warm enough, and make me look like the size 6 I once was. May be I'm sipping cocoa or a hot cup of tea with rum. My feet are up and I'm reading my favorite book and listening to Christmas music on the 24-hour radio station. The kids are all playing together happily as I cough, sputter, choke, and wake up from the dream.

Christmas.

It's beautiful, really. I do stand and refect on the true meaning of Christmas, usually while doing dishes or stirring something on the stove. The kids have been building legos with Kirk. I made a cake for tomorrow. Tiara's taken it upon herself to paint chocolate rose petals to decorate the cake with.

The legos are finished, the cake is finished. Kirk moves on to rum and coke. I move on to gingerbread and painting cinnamon ornaments with the girls and cleaning up.

The lego star fighter thing zooms through the air. Arianna plays on her itouch. The time goes.

I think somewhere along the way the idea of a magical Christmas got lost in the flurry of activities that I think that I have to do in order to make it magical so that by the time it's all said and done, I'm exhausted and the kids may have had fun, but would really have played a board game or done something crazy.

Kirk had the right idea with the legos. The girls all helped. They had fun. I went crazy, but they made a memory. Who cares if it's dimpled plastic. Legos are cool.

One tradition holds true. One present on Christmas Eve.

That's our only tradition for this night. Usually we open something that isn't from "mom and dad." This year I had new pajamas under the tree for all the girls so that they would be cute and comfortable on Christmas morning. Procrastination meant that all the cute PJs were sold out at the mall, so younger girls had matching sweats. Cute still, and practical.

The girls posed and wrestled and Elise fell on the presents and we all laughed.

The cat hugged Santa Bear.

Mrs. Claus undercooked the gingerbread to make up for overcooking it last time. To her overly tired mind, it sort of worked. Santa drank some coffee and munched on part of a gingerbread moose.

Stockings were filled. Santa left his treasures, unwrapped per tradition, then responded to the notes left by Luci requesting a photo of Rudolph.

Then it was done. And in my sleep deprived state, instead of gazing on the beauty in my living room and thinking of something beautiful and poetic, all I could think of (and giggle) is that it sort of looked like our fat Christmas tree got the runs.

Yeah, I'm not proud.

But there it is. Our beautiful living room on Christmas Eve and our tree "runneth under" with gifts.

Santa's been here. ;)

Photo of the Day: The Bubble Nest

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 21:13:00 +0000

In a weak moment I said, "yes."

Elise has been occasionally feeding the dog the past year in the hope that her spurts of "responsibility" would convince me that she should have her own pet. Four girls, a dog, and a lazy cat should be enough, I think, but here's my youngest daughter giving me that look that she's about to outgrow, but hasn't quite yet - that look that melts a mom and makes her say "yes" when she knows a better answer is out there like "no," or "not now" or "when you have your own house."

If she had wanted a ferret or a bird, it would have been easy. But she wanted a fish. A relatively easy, relatively cheap, fairly benign, fish.

We settled on a Betta and after much deliberation at the pet store between employees who couldn't agree on whether he would be fine in our little tank with one or two other fish, we left home with this one double-tail mail Betta that Elise named Sonic.

This was a couple months ago. He's been happy living in our little glass bowl, swimming towards me when I approach because, like all the other critters in this house, he knows who feeds him.

Today he made a bubble nest which is interesting, I suppose, and educational, in some way, but we'll leave the education there.

I sort of feel bad that he's made this thing that's supposed to attract a female. I sort of feel sorry for him that he's waiting for something that will never come.

But the instinctual fact remains that male Betta fish will kill the female Bettas after they lay their eggs in said nest. It's also known that the males will eat the eggs and babies as well. It's a wonder this species exists in the wild.

So here's Sonic the Betta who will build a nest, but leave it empty.

The girls want a female for him regardless of the probable consequences.

This is one moment that "the look" or not, it's quite easy to say "no."

Photo of the Day: Morning Moon

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 12:17:00 +0000

If anything could make me a morning person, it's this. The lingering moon, the creeping sun, the change of light across both sky and land, the pinks and blues behind the dark silhouettes of trees. Unfortunately, the vibrant pink left while the moon was behind a cloud and chances of me being up this early again are fairly nil.

Photo of the Day: Buzzards

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 21:08:00 +0000

Reminiscent of the Beatle's-style crew in Disney's jungle book, these slouchy fellows gather in trees and on rooftops here, usually where there is something dead nearby. A turkey buzzard flew towards me the other day with a strip of fresh red meat hanging from his beak. I was driving or I would have snapped a picture. Flustered that I'd missed such a great shot, I contemplated how great it would be to set up a chair near a dead dear and watch the action, but then, that sounds pretty morbid, doesn't it?

Turkey vultures (buzzards) appear here in Maryland with the changing seasons and the increase in roadkill. Hunting season's in full swing flushing deer out into the open and onto the streets. These ugly fellows are the clean-up crew. They hang out in groups, awkwardly large in the tall slender trees around here. With a wingspan of 5-6 feet, it's pretty clear that you're not looking at a giant crow.

Photo of the Day: The Dog

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Sun, 18 Dec 2011 21:10:00 +0000

Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole. ~Roger Caras

Photo of the Day: The Mailbox

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 15:17:00 +0000

Exhibit A: A beautiful bit of local culture, a bough of green atop my mailbox. Marianne taught me how to make this today by starting with bits of white pine and working my way up with other greens including magnolia leaves and sprigs of holly.

If I were from Maryland, I would have a wreath on every window and door of my home. May be I'll "go local" next year, but this year I have a nice swag of green on my front door and this coordinating mailbox topper wired tightly so it will last the month.

I've been told that I must have it gone by Valentine's day. That's a good goal. ;)

Exhibit B: Guilt is a loaf of bread in the mouth and a torn wrapper on the floor. Guess who else will be making a New Year's resolution list in a couple weeks. Meet my dog, the klepto-glutton.

Rum Balls

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 13:51:00 +0000

I'm back! For some reason my annual rum balls took a hiatus these last six years. (Ok, so that's sort of a lie. I did make them once, but they never actually made it into the mail, so my dad, who really loves these things, didn't get to enjoy his usual Christmas treat.)

Back in the states means faster shipping, so I took a few minutes to make a batch. It literally just took a few minutes.

I started making these over 10 years ago. One year I got fancy with liqueurs and toppings making at least six different kinds to ship, and there were all delicious, so feel free to experiment, but don't ignore the original. There's no replacing it, especially when made with good rum.

Rum Balls

Inspired by Epicurious

Ingredients:

1 cup semisweet chocolate chips (about 6 ounces)
3/4 cup super-fine sugar (normal granulated is ok)
3 tablespoons light corn syrup
1/2 cup dark rum
2 1/2 cups finely crushed Nilla wafer cookies (about 10 ounces)
3 T. cocoa powder

Directions:

Melt chocolate in a glass bowl in a microwave at 50% power just one minutes at a time, stirring between minutes until melted.
Whisk in sugar and corn syrup, then add rum.
Mix in vanilla wafers and blend well. It will be thick and difficult to stir.
For each rum ball, scoop 1 t. of mixture and roll into a ball. Roll in cocoa powder to coat and place on a cookie sheet or pan to chill.
Cover and chill overnight or up to 5 days.

Variations: Substitute rum with other liqueur and cocoa powder with new garnish. The possibilities are endless.

Peppermint Schnapps/Crushed peppermint candies
Amaretto/Roll in Slivered almonds or press an almond half on top
Bailey's/Chocolate sprinkles
Coconut Rum/Toasted coconut
Mix in chopped nuts and dried fruits for more combinations.

Non-Alcoholic Version:

Instead of 1/2 cup rum, mix in a combination of juice and extract or Torani flavored syrups to create your own non-alcoholic flavor combinations.
Substitute 1/2 cup Nutella for half of the chocolate chips for a hazelnut flavor.

Photo of the Day: Perseverance

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 05:35:00 +0000

Success seems to be largely a matter of hanging on after others have let go. ~William Feather

There is a lot to be learned from the perseverance of a squirrel. This little guy fell several times before success, but now knows how to jump vertically up, then position himself hanging upside down by his toes, and gather nuts even while the feeder is spinning. Sometimes I feel like I'm hanging by my toes and spinning. I'm not quite as graceful about it though.

The Jackhammer

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Tue, 13 Dec 2011 04:41:00 +0000

I just realized that I don't have my ring on. It's wierd. No rings, no bracelets.

Yesterday I took off my wedding ring for the first time since I put it on almost 14 years ago. I've had babies and surgeries and that ring stayed on. Sometimes I was just too puffy and sometimes I just didn't want to take it off.

Yesterday I didn't have a choice.

I did because I had to if I wanted to sit and read in that icy room with the jackhammers hammering away. I did because my daughter needed me. She was scared and I was too.

I didn't get much reading done. I watched her feet. They moved a couple times and I worried that may be her head may have moved too and she'd have to start over, but she didn't. She did great for 20 minutes of jackhammers and buzzing and vibrations that shook me, so I can't imagine what they did to her. She did great as they injected her with dye. Her eyes teared up and I stood there rubbing her leg and talking her through it. Shots scare her and she wasn't prepared. Ten minutes later we were done and leaving with a little disk full of pictures.

It felt invasive at first. Strange, it's just a picture, but it's my daughter's brain. And we looked together, both sort of quiet at first, but soon we were laughing and making jokes. It was like a great ink blot test looking to see what creatures we could find in the curves and shadows of her cerebral cortex. She was feeling nauseous, but we could still laugh. I count laughter as a success. If we can laugh, then things are ok.

Next week we'll see one doctor and two weeks later we'll see a specialist. And then may be soon after we can find a cause and a solution for the migraines that are coming weekly and lasting as long as 5 days.

My daughter wants her life back - a sense of normal and a moving on. I want to see her fly and would like to throttle this thing that's clipped her wings.

We've done parties and day trips. Life marches on no matter what lurks in the background and we march with it no matter what gunk seems to be stuck to our shoes. Some days it's slow going with the weight that we carry and some days we're the ones carried. There's faith and that faith makes a tremendous difference.

So here we are. My absolutely perfect daughter was absolutely perfect until 6 months ago and has been struggling with one thing after another ever since to the point that she now has a teacher come to our home a few hours a week. It's humbling. It makes us grateful for each moment of health we have and grateful for kindness of nurses and tenacity of doctors who will keep trying until they figure things out.

I need to get my ring back on. We're doing ok.

Photo(s) of the Day: Gingerbread

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 03:30:00 +0000

Gingerbread 2011

Keeping with tradition, we made gingerbread today from the mold that I bought 14 years ago and have been using ever since.

Breaking it, we made three houses instead of our normal one.

Tiara had her own house which he painted with watered down frosting and a paintbrush. Elise and Luci shared one that they topped with marshmallow "snow, " and Kirk and I shared another that we themed red and green unintentionally. Arianna elected to create a forest of trees that were eaten first, thus never photographed (my bad).

2008

We shared the day with friends who behaved like we did eating candy as if we were picking strawberries. One on the house, one in the mouth, and so on.

2006

Someday I'll get organized enough to find all the photos from years past. It would be a fun evolution to see. My favorite was the one with Santa stuck in the chimney with a large red jawbreaker for a derriere and jelly bean legs.

The Moose began in Germany from cookie cutters I bought there.

2004

The Pizza

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 03:30:00 +0000

Meet Elise.

Who's rainiest days can be made sunny simply by the ringing of the doorbell and a hot slice of pizza.

For whom Pizza is the perfect food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Cold or hot, plain or not. She's not picky when it's pizza.

Unless there's a shortage and then you don't want to get caught in the middle. She's ferocious and hungry.

There was no pizza delivery service in Spain. We missed this. Lazy Friday pizza nights and happy children = both good things.

The Greening

noreply@blogger.com (Tiffany T. Weber Stahlbaum) — Wed, 07 Dec 2011 04:23:00 +0000

The oldest garden club in Calvert County, this historic group began in 1936 for the purpose of conservation, the study of horticulture, and the promotion of artistry in floral and landscape design. They continue to be a busy group each year with workshops and projects in and around the community including the annual greening of the Prince Frederick Courthouse square, the Calvert County seat.

This powerhouse lady is the one who roped me in and I'm so thankful that she did. Today was the first day since moving here that I felt like I fit in.

I showed up at the old Christ Church just after nine to find the room already buzzing with activity. Tables were heaped with piles of green as ladies gathered together working on various projects. Some tucked boughs of magnolia into an enormous grapevine wreath that was made by one of the members years ago. It would go up on the new courthouse.

Christ Church, congregating since ~1672.

Others wired sprigs of various greens into little bunches that another group of ladies layered together onto a long rope that would be draped along the brick entry to the courthouse square.

Some tucked greenery into wet floral foam to be hung from lamp posts. As each was finished, they brought them outside and went to make another.

I was assigned to wreaths which was great because they were already made. (They know not to put a beginner on a challenge.) My job was to wire a large pre-made red ribbon onto each double sided wreath. Behind me two ladies tucked sprigs of boxwood between the artificial fruit of the Della Robia. It was once made of real fruit, but real fruit doesn't last as long. Some would rot and fall and that's not what you want falling on the magistrate's head as he walks out of the courthouse. Real is preferred, but there is a time and place for artificial even in a garden club.

It's been a long time since I've worked with a group of women like this. It was in Germany that I was last active in women's groups and it felt good to be out and doing something productive working alongside such fabulous people. They all have stories and beneath the humble appearance and bright green garden club aprons, they are all accomplished women.

Many came from military families and from more difficult times when communication wasn't as good. I listened to stories and learned.

Lucy told me that the best way to make a kissing ball is to use a potato. I've never made a kissing ball, but perhaps it's time to try. This is "the south," in many respects and I'm up to learn these customs too.

When the work was done, a few men came to gather the wreaths and swags and take them into town. Though the garden club ladies would put up many of their creations themselves, they've hired people to climb the ladders and put up the more difficult pieces.

Women are multifaceted creatures. Each one here is accomplished in some way, yet they all have a penchant for plants and, it seems, a gift in the culinary arts as well.

This morning when driving here I'd listened to one of my favorite talk radio hosts rant about the lack of Christ in Christmas - the banning of nativity scenes from public places and watering down of Christmas in schools. These are moments I worry that what I've come home to after six years abroad is not what I left. I worry that the moral fiber of our country is lost.

And then we all stood. Christmas music played lightly in the background. We all bowed our heads. And before we gathered to eat, we prayed. This is the country I'm proud of and while it may be hard to find lost in the news and negativity, it lives here in these women. There's still hope.

We gathered around a train of tables crowded with foods hot and cold, sweet and savory, delicious and mostly comforting with little diet food in sight. We raved about Janet's coconut cake and these amazing little ham rolls that were so good I had to have another and ladies asked around until they found out who made them. We all want the recipe.

When lunch and a short meeting were over, we all dispersed.

I headed to into town where the men had already begun to wire swags to lamp posts and put wreaths up high on the buildings. It took three of us each to get the long ropes of green out of the van and drape them carefully along the brick. They were wired on by running the wires through hooks hidden on either side of the wall, then over and under the greens themselves. The rain came down and the garden club ladies kept working until it was done. At the end of today, we'd have a "little bit of Williamsburg" right here in Prince Frederick.