God wants you to bling

I think I just found my new all-time favorite quote. Rhonda says it is a good message for the Christmas season.

"My God is a God who wants me to have things. He wants me to bling. He wants me to be the hottest thing on the block. I don't know what kind of God the rest of y'all are serving, but the God I serve says, 'Mary, you need to be the hottest thing this year, and I'm gonna make sure you're doing that."
-- Mary J. Blige

Overheard in our house earlier today...

"So, you know how I broke the salad spinner when I let Buddy lick the pancake batter out of it and he ran away with it and tried to eat it?"

"Yeah."

"So, well, I really hate not having a salad spinner. It makes washing lettuce so difficult. So I tried something new."

"AMY! What did you do?"

"Well, um, I put the washed salad in a paper bag, stapled it shut, and then put it in the dryer on 'no heat.' "

[incredulous look] "You are crazy."

[pause]

"So, how'd it work?"

"Well, the good news is that the lettuce is dry. But I guess that damp paper bags don't do well on tumble dry, so the lettuce is kind of all over the inside of the dryer."

Welcome Winter Snack Tree of Peace

As mentioned and documented in my last posting, we cut down a tree in our woods the other day. We brought it inside and it warmed and filled our still-bare walls in our partly-unfurnished living room. The strangeness of the tradition in which we go out into wintertime and kill a tree and bring it into the house as a way of celebrating renewal and winter make me think a lot about David Sedaris' story "Six to Eight Black Men" in which he laments the bizareness of Dutch holiday traditions. (By the way, this is so funny and worth listening to that I spent the better part of an hour tracking it down online. There are some bizarre versions on You Tube, but you might be better downloading this episode of "This American Life" to avoid odd video montages.)

Anyway, embracing the strangeness of cutting down a tree and bringing it into your home, we decided that the tree should be a "Welcome Winter" tree, since that seemed to be the real purpose of dragging this pine tree through our house and giving it a month of post-mortem bliss. Besides, we were slightly embarrassed about having to admit to putting up a Christmas Tree on November 17th.

So it was known as the Welcome Winter Tree for almost a whole day. But then we decided to decorate. The branches of the tree are spare and supple, and we decided that popcorn icicles would be the best way to go. We set about adorning our tree with freshly-popped popcorn strung onto 12-inch piece of thread. The effect was very pretty and simple; it is an old fashioned looking tree. However, it was within minutes that we realized our oversight: Buddy loves popcorn and could in no way resist the temptation of a whole tree laden with swaying strings of dangling popcorn. We watched in amazement as the dog circled the tree, sniffing heartily, while occasionally standing on his hind legs and trying to steal a snack. We soon realized that we had created a very wonderful, phenomenal thing in the life of our dog: a Welcome Winter Snack Tree.

Our friends the Gieblers came by a few nights later and were amused and delighted by our story of the evolving tree name. David informed us that we had a White Pine and after they left we looked up White Pines in our naturalist guide. I read out loud to Rhonda about the history of the White Pine, and its history in the logging and lumber industry in the North Woods. The book then went on to explain the importance of White Pine in the Iroquois Nation, explaining that the Iroquoi refer to it as the Tree of Peace. I looked at Rhonda and said, you know what this means don't you? " She smiled and said, "yeah, we now have a Welcome Winter Snack Tree of Peace."

Thanks

Our friend Lauren is in town between a trip to China and Thanksgiving with her family in Indiana. Her short layover is mostly about eating, walking in the woods, and making things for future eating. Later today we will eat a made-up holiday meal we will call Thankslauren. As the sweet potato rolls bake, let me regale you with a photographic list of things we've done.

We canned our own tomato sauce:



We cut down a Welcome Winter Tree (formerly known as Christmas Tree) in our own woods:

And we spent hours in front of the fire:




Most of these photos were taken by Lauren who is a professional photographer.

victim of our frugality

we are on a pretty tight budget. We are living on one salary while paying a mortgage and a ridiculous amount of student loans. So, it goes without saying that we have to watch our pennies. anyone who knows us well will testify to the fact that living within a budget is harder for me than it is for Rhonda. (You may recall an earlier entry in which she-who-is-less-thrifty splurged on a vintage chip and dip set.)

Living on a budget means making a series of choices. This much I have learned. We cannot have it all, and in fact, we cannot have many pretty, shiny things that might attract my eye. We have been trying to find a balance between living comfortably (heat at 68? No way! too high!) and living within our means. This means that we can no longer afford to take Buddy to the groomer regularly. That usually runs 40-50 bucks per visit. Instead, we decided to do it ourselves. But we had the added hurdle of buying good clippers; we tried the cheap ones and they were crap. Expensive clippers can cost hundreds of dollars. So, we settled on taking Buddy to the amazing Marinette Farm and Garden store where you can wash and clip your dog in their facility. Less messy than doing it at home. And it only costs 15 bucks.

Today we went to give Buddy a much overdue cut and wash. It took us an hour and a half of coaxing, distracting, and immobilizing to give the damn dog a haircut. It is really hard. And despite the professional grade equipment, these non-professional hands did not render a show-worthy 'do. In fact, Buddy looks like a raggedy little dog that no one wanted. Poor, neglected dog left to fend for himself in the great North Woods.

Rhonda was very encouraging throughout the whole experience, saying things like "its really not SO bad, He looks fine, etc. " It was an hour or so later, when Buddy was dry and fluffy, that I took a look at him from the front. I almost fell out of the kitchen chair laughing as I realized that we had cut Buddy's front legs entirely different lengths. It now looks like we have a little disabled dog whose left leg is atrophied from all of the time spent starving in the woods. Or, perhaps it is a war wound. The great budgetary wars of the Lesbinger household.

snow

it started snowing about an hour ago -- first snow of the year. We went outside with the dog and looked up into the sky to watch the tiny flakes descend.
it was beautiful.

I am sitting at my desk watching a ladybug. My home office is "temporarily" -- meaning at least for the next six months-- located on the front sun-porch. This is an east-facing room, long and narrow with some wicker chairs that were left behind by the previous owners. Much to everyone's surprise the room is well heated; in fact, it is the warmest room in the house. Even warmer now than before thanks to the additional insulation added by Rhonda and family as they rennovated the master bedroom above. So, I am sitting her watching a ladybug attempt to regain full mobility after being partly squashed by my left hand just a few moments ago. The squash was accidental though inevitable. Apparently every home in Northern Wisconsin is annually invaded by thousands of ladybugs.

They are said to bring good luck. They eat aphids. But they also end up in everything: doing a backstroke in my tea, landing on food, dying in the windowsill, drowning in the toilet, dancing around light bulbs. The other night Buddy was alone in the bedroom while we sat just feet away in the tv area. He was growling and then barking at something we couldn't hear. I went in to investigate and found him sitting with his face inches from the lamp, barking at the silly ladybugs who were vigorously flying back and forth between the light bulb and the shade.

mellingers

Rhonda's parents left this afternoon. I am forever indebted to them for insulating, re-building, drywalling and mudding our rather large bedroom. Rhonda and her dad bonded over this project (one night working until 9:30pm) and all three of them worked tirelessly for six days in a row. The last morning, while Rhonda and her dad did last-minute things, her mom taught me how to make and can apple sauce. We had a really nice visit, and we never be able to repay them for all of the hard work.