Alas, I forgot my camera-computer cord, to upload pictures while we are here in South Carolina. Shoot.
But I must say that the 12 1/2 hour drive down has been completely worth this...100% clear blue skies (until a thunderstorm sprang up last evening, when we were already inside making dinner). The beach was busy over the weekend, but yesterday was much less so. There are also colorful people to people-watch and strange tides to fight against whilst walking in the water. Typical to me, I've started a shell stash. I can't help myself (though perhaps I should seek intervention); I love finding shells.
Tommy, Tracy, and Calli were here with us three stooges for Saturday evening-Tuesday morning. Then Leslie, along with the Edwards gang, headed back up to NC, while Kyle and stayed here at the most relaxing and delightful beach cottage known to man. He asked last night if we could buy it and move here. It would be nice.
But nothing about this is realistic. Beach for hours a day. Sleeping for 11 and 12 hours a night. (Seriously...we have been, and it's been wonderful.)
But isn't that what vacation is supposed to be about? Escaping reality? And we are, quite well, thank you.
Hop you all back home are doing well. :o)
12 August 2009
26 July 2009
Week away
I have just spent the most delightful week away from home. It was jammed full of fun and different adventures for me.
Who wouldn't love this sweet little face?
- Blueberry picking with my sisters, mom, and nieces. Grand total of 50 lbs. Les and I nabbed 25 of those for our baking pleasure.
- Movie out w/ Kyle: Star Wars (awesome).
- Cook out at the farm with the nieces, sisters, mom and dad. Complete with watching the girls chase chickens for a very long time.
- A baby shower for my sister-in-law. Being a part of the production team for something like this at the Gottschalk house is always a treat. This year's main event: The 11-hour cake.
- A boat ride in extremely windy conditions, but fun nonetheless as the 2 littles got to swim in the lake with their life jackets and noodle-chairs.
- Finally today, a completely NEW experience: the Indianapolis Indians. Leslie, Kyle and I headed down this afternoon for a game. It was the most perfect baseball day -- puffy, billowing clouds and blue, blue sky. We sat in the sun, which was fun and drenching at the same time. My only sun from this past week came from today. It was pretty fun, despite the sad showing of the Indy Indians.
Having WAY too much fun.
Who wouldn't love this sweet little face? 13 July 2009
A new hobby?
I've discovered that I love creating things in the kitchen. I won't do it blindly, but if I have a recipe, it's inevitable that I'll follow most of it and then do my own thing towards the end.
Last weekend we had friends over for dinner. I wanted to make something new--which seems uncharacteristic, but I was getting really tired of the old standbys.
I found a recipe for spinach and ham lasagna with white sauce and I knew that was the dish. As Les and I had been talking about what veggies were available on the farm, I gave her a call about some basil (for something else) and asked about spinach. Turned out, she had beet greens, which taste exactly the same.
I made the lasagna according to the recipe, substituting beet greens for spinach, and then adding in some broccoli and mushrooms for substance. It was a hit.
Since Leslie has been talking about basil so much these days (the farm is overflowing, apparently), we both wondered about making pesto. I love pesto, but hadn't had it in a long time and found out in my research that nearly ALL pesto has some sort of nut. That, in and of itself, excludes it from my diet. Unless we start messing with the recipes.
Les tried her hand at it today -- making two batches -- one for me, nutless, and one for her, with nuts. She also brought over some zucchini and a tiny misshapen yellow squash. As the pasta was cooking for dinner, I decided to saute some onion with the zucchini and squash. When it was almost done, I threw in some leftover mushrooms. I tossed the pesto with the veggies and pasta and voila! a new dish was born. It was GOOO-OOOD.
I never would have guessed myself a cook-type. I never had any interest. But it turns out, it's really fun and making stuff up is phenomenal!
Tomorrow I get to try my hand at the Amish Friendship bread. I've had it stewing on my counter for 10 days. I found a blog that listed the innumerable varieties that you can make, simply by changing the flavor of pudding, or adding cream cheese, different spices or fruits or toppings. Sounds awesome. I'm so glad it's the gift that keeps on giving, so that I can try out as many different kinds as possible. Sweet!
Let me know if you want some. It'll be in my freezer.
Last weekend we had friends over for dinner. I wanted to make something new--which seems uncharacteristic, but I was getting really tired of the old standbys.
I found a recipe for spinach and ham lasagna with white sauce and I knew that was the dish. As Les and I had been talking about what veggies were available on the farm, I gave her a call about some basil (for something else) and asked about spinach. Turned out, she had beet greens, which taste exactly the same.
I made the lasagna according to the recipe, substituting beet greens for spinach, and then adding in some broccoli and mushrooms for substance. It was a hit.
Since Leslie has been talking about basil so much these days (the farm is overflowing, apparently), we both wondered about making pesto. I love pesto, but hadn't had it in a long time and found out in my research that nearly ALL pesto has some sort of nut. That, in and of itself, excludes it from my diet. Unless we start messing with the recipes.
Les tried her hand at it today -- making two batches -- one for me, nutless, and one for her, with nuts. She also brought over some zucchini and a tiny misshapen yellow squash. As the pasta was cooking for dinner, I decided to saute some onion with the zucchini and squash. When it was almost done, I threw in some leftover mushrooms. I tossed the pesto with the veggies and pasta and voila! a new dish was born. It was GOOO-OOOD.
I never would have guessed myself a cook-type. I never had any interest. But it turns out, it's really fun and making stuff up is phenomenal!
Tomorrow I get to try my hand at the Amish Friendship bread. I've had it stewing on my counter for 10 days. I found a blog that listed the innumerable varieties that you can make, simply by changing the flavor of pudding, or adding cream cheese, different spices or fruits or toppings. Sounds awesome. I'm so glad it's the gift that keeps on giving, so that I can try out as many different kinds as possible. Sweet!
Let me know if you want some. It'll be in my freezer.
02 July 2009
Hope...
Hope: to not give in to despair and cling to a dream
Since I was probably 12 years old, I have had one particular dream that has gotten me through a lot of discouraging times.
You see, I have terrible vision. I got glasses for the first time in second grade and my eyes continued progressing into myopia at such a steep rate that by the next year I had hard contacts. The goal was to allow the hard contacts to prevent such quick myopic transitions. If it worked, it was hard to tell. Today, my vision is a -13.5 in one eye and -11.5 in the other, both with increasing astigmatism. That makes me substantially more legally blind than most. My eye Dr. used to try to encourage me by saying that contacts can correct up to -20, but that isn't so encouraging anymore, considering my eyes just changed a whole number in one year.
The dream, a gift really, to a visually impaired little girl, was given to me by my eye Dr. "You can have LASIK. It can fix your vision, even vision as bad as yours." At the time, my vision was bad, but not terrible. I was thrilled and began saving for this procedure from that day on.
Well, things got in the way, of course. College and grad school. I had to use money for those things. But, after I got my first real job, I continued building my savings for one ultimate purpose--not a house, not a vacation, but to SEE. To finally see the clock when I wake up, or through the window, or, more recently, the face of my husband in the morning.
A few years ago, I had my first consultation. I knew I couldn't get the consult without having the money in hand to continue with the surgery. But I received devastating news that day. My vision was too advanced and my corneas too thin for the surgery. "You are not a good candidate for LASIK," he told me. I thought I would faint.
I cried all the way home. I cried all day. It was the death of a dream. I know this may seem dramatic, but I haven't been able to see since I was 7. That'll be 20 years this September.
In a cruel twist of fate, Kyle, the man I married, had bad vision too. But he was able to have LASIK and has been known to make comments about how life-changing it has been for him. Sometimes just knowing that is so frustrating. My dream didn't seem insurmountable, originally, and yet now...
The only possibility of corrected vision, for me, is a more intensive surgery--the implantation of a contact lens. Sounds insane, but could be awesome. Kyle has encouraged me to pursue it, and so after two years of nursing my heartbreak at the death of my dream, there is a little hope. They told me two years ago the surgery would cost $10,000, money that I did NOT have in hand. But the information I received today says it is only $7,000 (for both eyes).
There are two different types of ICL (implantable contact lens) surgeries. One puts the lens between your cornea and iris. This is a rigid lens that can be seen from the outside, if you look hard enough. The other surgery puts the lens behind your iris and the lens is more flexible and not detectable, except during an eye exam when they look back into your eye with the bright and painful yellow-blue light.
Whereas LASIK is a very quick procedure and recovery can be nearly instantaneous, the implanted lens, as you can imagine, takes more time to complete and recover from. However, I have a first-hand success story from which to glean information. A woman I work with had this surgery done several years ago, and, in her words, "it has changed my life".
I needed this hope to continue, since sight is such a precious gift. I have prayed since I was young for a day when I can wake up and see without glasses or contacts. Maybe in a few years, maybe in a decade, but I once again believe it could happen.
I think I'll start saving up my pennies again.
Since I was probably 12 years old, I have had one particular dream that has gotten me through a lot of discouraging times.
You see, I have terrible vision. I got glasses for the first time in second grade and my eyes continued progressing into myopia at such a steep rate that by the next year I had hard contacts. The goal was to allow the hard contacts to prevent such quick myopic transitions. If it worked, it was hard to tell. Today, my vision is a -13.5 in one eye and -11.5 in the other, both with increasing astigmatism. That makes me substantially more legally blind than most. My eye Dr. used to try to encourage me by saying that contacts can correct up to -20, but that isn't so encouraging anymore, considering my eyes just changed a whole number in one year.
The dream, a gift really, to a visually impaired little girl, was given to me by my eye Dr. "You can have LASIK. It can fix your vision, even vision as bad as yours." At the time, my vision was bad, but not terrible. I was thrilled and began saving for this procedure from that day on.
Well, things got in the way, of course. College and grad school. I had to use money for those things. But, after I got my first real job, I continued building my savings for one ultimate purpose--not a house, not a vacation, but to SEE. To finally see the clock when I wake up, or through the window, or, more recently, the face of my husband in the morning.
A few years ago, I had my first consultation. I knew I couldn't get the consult without having the money in hand to continue with the surgery. But I received devastating news that day. My vision was too advanced and my corneas too thin for the surgery. "You are not a good candidate for LASIK," he told me. I thought I would faint.
I cried all the way home. I cried all day. It was the death of a dream. I know this may seem dramatic, but I haven't been able to see since I was 7. That'll be 20 years this September.
In a cruel twist of fate, Kyle, the man I married, had bad vision too. But he was able to have LASIK and has been known to make comments about how life-changing it has been for him. Sometimes just knowing that is so frustrating. My dream didn't seem insurmountable, originally, and yet now...
The only possibility of corrected vision, for me, is a more intensive surgery--the implantation of a contact lens. Sounds insane, but could be awesome. Kyle has encouraged me to pursue it, and so after two years of nursing my heartbreak at the death of my dream, there is a little hope. They told me two years ago the surgery would cost $10,000, money that I did NOT have in hand. But the information I received today says it is only $7,000 (for both eyes).
There are two different types of ICL (implantable contact lens) surgeries. One puts the lens between your cornea and iris. This is a rigid lens that can be seen from the outside, if you look hard enough. The other surgery puts the lens behind your iris and the lens is more flexible and not detectable, except during an eye exam when they look back into your eye with the bright and painful yellow-blue light.
Whereas LASIK is a very quick procedure and recovery can be nearly instantaneous, the implanted lens, as you can imagine, takes more time to complete and recover from. However, I have a first-hand success story from which to glean information. A woman I work with had this surgery done several years ago, and, in her words, "it has changed my life".
I needed this hope to continue, since sight is such a precious gift. I have prayed since I was young for a day when I can wake up and see without glasses or contacts. Maybe in a few years, maybe in a decade, but I once again believe it could happen.
I think I'll start saving up my pennies again.
30 June 2009
Observance of the day
You know it's going to be a special sort of day when, upon exiting one's vehicle, a Japanese beetle flies into one's hair and stays until one finds it an hour later at one's desk.
I can hear it trying to crawl out of the trash can scratch, scratch, scratch.
How did it not strangle to death on my nappy hair?
I can hear it trying to crawl out of the trash can scratch, scratch, scratch.
How did it not strangle to death on my nappy hair?
28 June 2009
A Summertime Treat
Tomorrow, June 29th, is Leslie's birthday. She began celebrating with her first b'day card on Friday afternoon, continued through Saturday evening dining with the Indiana Gottschalk Crowd (where Phoenix was dearly missed), and carried over even to today, when I baked her a Strawberry Rhubarb Crumb-Crust Pie. Oh dear, was it delish.
I began searching last week for a recipe and discovered this gem on allrecipes.com. Great site! I spent at least an hour reading over the cooks' reviews and thus made many of their adjustments to the recipe. So, I'm including below the delight in which we partook this afternoon, complete with vanilla bean ice cream and the film Australia. (Great flick, by the way.)
Ingredients:
3/4 c. sugar
3 Tb. flour
1 Tb. corn starch (for thickening)
1 tsp. vanilla extract
3/4 lb. fresh rhubarb, cut into 1/2 inch pieces
1 pint fresh strawberries, halved
1 9-inch unbaked pie shell (I used a deep dish one, worked well.)
Topping:
3/4 c. flour
1/2 c. packed brown sugar
1/2 c. quick-cooking or rolled oats
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ginger
6 Tb. butter (or slightly less)
Directions:
1. In a large mixing bowl, add the sugar, flour and vanilla. Gently fold in rhubarb and strawberries. Pour into pastry shell.
2. For topping, combine flour, brown sugar,spices, and oats in a small bowl. Cut in butter until crumbly. Sprinkle over fruit. Bake at 400 for 10-15 minutes (if very soupy, do extra 5 minutes). Reduce heat to 350 and back for 35 minutes or until golden brown and bubbly.
Cool on wire rack.
Hope you all enjoy it!
I began searching last week for a recipe and discovered this gem on allrecipes.com. Great site! I spent at least an hour reading over the cooks' reviews and thus made many of their adjustments to the recipe. So, I'm including below the delight in which we partook this afternoon, complete with vanilla bean ice cream and the film Australia. (Great flick, by the way.)
Ingredients:
3/4 c. sugar
3 Tb. flour
1 Tb. corn starch (for thickening)
1 tsp. vanilla extract
3/4 lb. fresh rhubarb, cut into 1/2 inch pieces
1 pint fresh strawberries, halved
1 9-inch unbaked pie shell (I used a deep dish one, worked well.)
Topping:
3/4 c. flour
1/2 c. packed brown sugar
1/2 c. quick-cooking or rolled oats
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ginger
6 Tb. butter (or slightly less)
Directions:
1. In a large mixing bowl, add the sugar, flour and vanilla. Gently fold in rhubarb and strawberries. Pour into pastry shell.
2. For topping, combine flour, brown sugar,spices, and oats in a small bowl. Cut in butter until crumbly. Sprinkle over fruit. Bake at 400 for 10-15 minutes (if very soupy, do extra 5 minutes). Reduce heat to 350 and back for 35 minutes or until golden brown and bubbly.
Cool on wire rack.
Hope you all enjoy it!
22 June 2009
A barrage of thoughts...
I've been trying, for days, to develop a good post. I want to entertain, to educate, to encourage with my words here. But it's been a dry spell--creativity is far from me.
My mind is constantly churning thoughts, what-ifs, and scenarios about today, tomorrow, next month, and the next few years. I hate not knowing where I'm going, or what road I'm really even on, and that's precisely how I feel these days. Lost. Wandering...aimlessly.
I know our plans for the next year, even next few years. I know that I'm starting school again a year from now, that it'll take me three years to finish, unless I can bully my way through by cramming my days and nights with classes (like I did with Master's degree #1). I know that we won't be out of debt until the end of next summer, but that this summer's salary will pay for next summer's schooling, so we can make that fly. I know that in doing school this way, I'll be partially reimbursed, and that will remain during my entire 3-year part-time student, full-time employee status. I know that if we move, if we relocate so Kyle's days aren't as exhausting and long, all of this could change. That if we bought a house somewhere--here, there, anywhere--it would or could or may change all these plans. I also know how much can change in a year.
I became engaged a year ago. Now I've been married for 9 months. How'd that happen? Where did the time go?
I was reading over the archives of a friend's blog, someone I haven't contacted since college, but who writes well and, at least in college, shared many appreciations with me, for literature, music, and art. She and her husband had made plans to move to a country in Africa, and as the time neared for them to leave, the organization with which they were going switched their destination. She was lamenting not returning to a nation she loves, and yet remained excited for the simple fact that they were still moving to Africa. A week or so later, the organization actually cut them off. For whatever reason, they were no longer going. Her posts were so full of life, vitality--anger, disappointment, anticipation, almost grief at times. Yet they were so trusting, retaining their desire and ability to trust God would understand their hearts, their wishes to be abroad. I believe they are now somewhere in Southeast Asia. Their path had to change in order to get them to where they needed to be, a different country--a different continent, actually. And it's not like their journey is finished, is it? They might end up back in Africa, the exact country they wished to land in the first time around. Maybe the timing wasn't right on the first pass. Maybe it will be later on. Or maybe they'll love SE Asia more.
I contemplate these things constantly. Where am I supposed to be? What am I supposed to be doing? This? Am I to be here, to be librarianing? Is my restlessness legitimate, or is it just my nature to live unsettled, to long for something different, something better, something fresh? The possibilities are pretty much endless, and I could spend many sleepless nights mulling over what we should or could be doing or going or being. But that's not productive, is it?
I know this year is bound to be tumultuous. And, truth be told, we've adjusted to married life rather well, but that's not the issue anymore for me. Kyle is as much a part of my life now as I am. He's that central to my existence. But I feel imbalanced in myself. Internally. I can't pinpoint it, but I do know that it's there. The scales are tipped, but I don't know which way, or why, or how to fix it. Frustrating, as you can imagine.
I haven't been running as consistently as is needed these days, and I'm wondering if my mental imbalance isn't just a way of telling me to hit the pavement again -- every day -- to do something healthy for my body, which incidentally brings my mind to a better state of being. But what if it's not?
See what I mean? Always questions...never resting. I need to get away from here.
My mind is constantly churning thoughts, what-ifs, and scenarios about today, tomorrow, next month, and the next few years. I hate not knowing where I'm going, or what road I'm really even on, and that's precisely how I feel these days. Lost. Wandering...aimlessly.
I know our plans for the next year, even next few years. I know that I'm starting school again a year from now, that it'll take me three years to finish, unless I can bully my way through by cramming my days and nights with classes (like I did with Master's degree #1). I know that we won't be out of debt until the end of next summer, but that this summer's salary will pay for next summer's schooling, so we can make that fly. I know that in doing school this way, I'll be partially reimbursed, and that will remain during my entire 3-year part-time student, full-time employee status. I know that if we move, if we relocate so Kyle's days aren't as exhausting and long, all of this could change. That if we bought a house somewhere--here, there, anywhere--it would or could or may change all these plans. I also know how much can change in a year.
I became engaged a year ago. Now I've been married for 9 months. How'd that happen? Where did the time go?
I was reading over the archives of a friend's blog, someone I haven't contacted since college, but who writes well and, at least in college, shared many appreciations with me, for literature, music, and art. She and her husband had made plans to move to a country in Africa, and as the time neared for them to leave, the organization with which they were going switched their destination. She was lamenting not returning to a nation she loves, and yet remained excited for the simple fact that they were still moving to Africa. A week or so later, the organization actually cut them off. For whatever reason, they were no longer going. Her posts were so full of life, vitality--anger, disappointment, anticipation, almost grief at times. Yet they were so trusting, retaining their desire and ability to trust God would understand their hearts, their wishes to be abroad. I believe they are now somewhere in Southeast Asia. Their path had to change in order to get them to where they needed to be, a different country--a different continent, actually. And it's not like their journey is finished, is it? They might end up back in Africa, the exact country they wished to land in the first time around. Maybe the timing wasn't right on the first pass. Maybe it will be later on. Or maybe they'll love SE Asia more.
I contemplate these things constantly. Where am I supposed to be? What am I supposed to be doing? This? Am I to be here, to be librarianing? Is my restlessness legitimate, or is it just my nature to live unsettled, to long for something different, something better, something fresh? The possibilities are pretty much endless, and I could spend many sleepless nights mulling over what we should or could be doing or going or being. But that's not productive, is it?
I know this year is bound to be tumultuous. And, truth be told, we've adjusted to married life rather well, but that's not the issue anymore for me. Kyle is as much a part of my life now as I am. He's that central to my existence. But I feel imbalanced in myself. Internally. I can't pinpoint it, but I do know that it's there. The scales are tipped, but I don't know which way, or why, or how to fix it. Frustrating, as you can imagine.
I haven't been running as consistently as is needed these days, and I'm wondering if my mental imbalance isn't just a way of telling me to hit the pavement again -- every day -- to do something healthy for my body, which incidentally brings my mind to a better state of being. But what if it's not?
See what I mean? Always questions...never resting. I need to get away from here.
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