Entries from April 2008 ↓

Operation Strawberry By the Numbers


  • 2 adults
  • 5 kids
  • 6 buckets
  • 45lbs of strawberries
  • 40lbs of sugar
  • 10 boxes of pectin
  • 2 1/2 cups lemon juice


  • 3 cups strawberry salsa
  • 1 strawberry shortcake
  • 4 qts frozen strawberries (margaritas? Yes, please!)
  • 5 1/2 GALLONS of jam
  • 1 utterly destroyed kitchen
  • 1 exhausted Heather

Who wants toast?


The other day, innocently peeling my navel orange, I discovered its unborn twin.

Carry on.

Disconnected Thoughts

Driving home I heard the German proverb:

Patience is a bitter plant, but it bears sweet fruit.

I’ve struggled through my whole life believing I have no patience, praying for patience, wishing I had patience.  Never did it dawn on me that being patient did not mean feeling a sense of peace while waiting.  I was under the assumption that patience was an emotion rather than an action.

This realization is somewhat disappointing.

Yesterday morning Ivy and I were interviewed by Shaine Mata on his BlogTalkRadio Show.  You can download the file here.  I ended up having a lot of fun and hope to do more.

Full of Awesome and Win pt 1

In a strange ironic twist, I spent the weekend of CREATE South almost completely disconnected from the net.  There was no wi-fi in my hotel and I could not connect to the makeshift network at the conference itself.  This was definitely a benefit in some regards, but not having our power point was a little frustrating.

My first true public speaking appearance is over.  I completely forgot to pick on Joan as I had planned.  I was going to ask her to lead folks in the chicken dance, as she so truly appreciates mediocre speakers who try to  improve their appeal by humiliating audience members.

I thoroughly enjoyed meeting Ed Cone and hearing him speak.  He reminded me of a cross between Steve Carell and a dear friend of mine Fr. Bart.  I appreciated his comment, at dinner, about parenting becoming easier as the kids become self-sufficient.

More to come.

I Said

Get down from there right now, young lady.


A commenter on Babbledog:

damn. y’all built it up and it was so disappointing. all that coordination and potential used to…. end hunger? nope. get rich? nope. raise the awareness of some critical cause? not at all. it was all used to make a zombie flick (and from appearances a bad one). i’m not impressed.

Truly, is there such thing as a good zombie flick?  I laughed my butt off at Shaun of the Dead, but zombie movies in general are campy and fun.  Isn’t that the appeal?  :: Go ahead, insert rants from fans of Night of the Living Dead here::

No matter how “badly” the movie turns out, it cannot be any worse than My Boyfriend’s Back.

That isn’t the point.  Does every venture have to be world changing to have a net effect? No.  Each positive endeavor may only serve to make connections that facilitate future events.  I went out on a whim, met people, played a bit part, and had a fabulous time.  Playing a tiny walk on role in a short film is nothing in the grand scheme of things, but even played badly it was a huge leap of courage for me.

At this stage of my life I spend nearly every waking moment either working or molding three very needy barbarians into what I hope become acceptable and contributing members of society. Please don’t hold your breath.

Y’all, I am tired; deep down in the bones tired.  The kind of tired that a few hours of uninterrupted sleep will not fix.   It is a hungry form of exhaustion; the kind that makes you say to hell with everything.  When I should have been hurrying home I decided, “No, I’m going to sit on this porch with these people and laugh about nothing for a while.”  Those hours, no one needed me and there were no deadlines.  No, Dan didn’t save the world by coordinating a campy zombie flick, but I valued the experience.

(HT Dan Conover Photo Credit Geoff Marshall)

Skipping Church

I played hooky to be in a zombie flick.

It’s All About Me

If I can’t talk about myself, what is the point of having a personal blog?

Those of you closest to me know how shy I can be.  Most everyone else probably assumed I was a work-a-holic or hermit. I used to purposely take any shift that would eliminate the possibility of my having to deal with people in a social setting.  People have asked, but you were a waitress, didn’t you have to be outgoing?  As far as I was concerned, my customers weren’t individuals.  They were just a part of my job.  The more polite and friendly I appeared to be, the better I would be paid.  They didn’t see me as a person, either.  I was just someone who brought food and made sure everything was fine every so often. Everyone is the star of their own movie, there are only so many memorable parts in each film; I was perfectly content with waitress #92309854 in most of those films.

The past few years have been a period of great change.  Was it motherhood?  Honestly, I don’t think so.  If anything, that drove me further inside myself for a time.  Perhaps part of the change was moving back to my home, where I felt safer.  Whatever the cause I began to peek out of my shell and began to meet some people who are leaving a profound mark on my life.  Vicky and Shelley are the first women in my church I recognized as individuals rather than “church people.”  They serve as role models in my walk as a wife and mother, as well as in my faith.

In the world of blogging Dan and Janet have not only given me a well deserved kick in the butt on occasion, but opportunities and guidance as I work to change from a hobbyist to professional writer.  I cannot thank them enough.

Yesterday, several zombies milled around aimlessly, a camera was in my face, and I was not shaking with fear.  I was far from perfect, but I was there. Willingly. In college, I left my public speaking class in tears, leaving all of my belongings behind , to throw up when the professor brought in a video camera.  I called a friend who retrieved my coat and books (it was freezing) so I could go home.

Saturday I’ll be speaking at the CREATE South Conference.  These steps are miles from the girl who picked up shifts to avoid social obligation.

Parent Hack: Swiffer?

Who can afford all those disposable cleaning products?

Not us.