I love dinner parties

My college writing professor and his lovely wife came for dinner tonight. It was a little bizarre – in school he was my mentor, my elder, my authority. But tonight, sitting in my living room, we turned into friends. We enjoyed hearing each other’s stories, and I especially loved seeing pictures of their now very grown children. Two of their four children were born when I was in college (Yes, I felt sufficiently old)

Listening to him tell his stories, I remembered why I loved his classes. He made me want to write. He made me want to be a great writer. And he told me the only way I could write well was to write with utter honesty about what I believed, what I loved.

Generally I was too afraid to write that honestly, so I never became a star writer in school. Don’t get me wrong; I enjoyed writing for the newspaper and yearbook and there were times I felt sparks of inspiration. But too often I would squelch it and write about something more, well, safe.

I’d do much better in school now. I’m too old to care about safe.

As they were leaving he noticed our school room and our three PCs. He said he felt like a failure because he didn’t convert me to Macintosh computers. Oh, no, dear professor. I love Macs, and have ever since he taught me how to use one my freshman year when I tried out for the newspaper staff. But I married an engineer who thinks Macs aren’t real computers, so I’ve had to go the way of the PC.

Considering said professor may be reading this, I would very much like to find a creative way to say what a grand time I had tonight. Perhaps if I were writing on a Mac it would be coming more easily…

Everyone's Back Home

Last week was quiet around here. Michael and Amy spent the week in Mississippi with a group from our church. They were helping with some post-Katrina clean up. It seems impossible to be believe there is still so much to do considering Katrina was nearly three years ago but the kids assured me there were damaged trees, houses, buildings and cars as far as the eye could see. And their group wasn’t even in the hardest-hit area of New Orleans.

When we signed the kids up for the work trip we were told anyone under 14 needed a guardian to go with. Sean couldn’t take the week off and I couldn’t go because I needed to take care of Rebecca. (Look, that’s the excuse I’m sticking with. I know what it feels like in the South in June. There was no way I was going on a work trip to southern Mississippi in the middle of June where air conditioning was not guaranteed. No. Way.) So I asked Sean’s dad, Chuck, if he’d be willing to go along as Amy’s guardian. In a nanosecond he said yes, so the kids not only spent last week working with folks from church, they got to spend a week working alongside their grandfather. Chuck, by the way, can work harder than anyone, even folks 30 years younger. The kids have seen their grandfather work hard before, but what they saw last week blew them away.

Here’s a portion of the report Chuck emailed us when he got home to Atlanta last Friday:

The kids really did work hard. On Monday about fifteen of us repaired and scraped the siding on a big old summer cottage (probably 70 years old) and completely primed it. On Tuesday about 12 of us completed the final coat of paint and trim around the windows and did the porch floor and steps. It was hot, but there was a very big old tree that provided shade for cooling periods. Others finished the drywall in another small house and primed it for painting (Amy did work there on Tuesday)and others did some wiring repairs in two other houses (Michael joined them on Tuesday). On Wednesday, five of us (including Michael and me) helped another team spackle nail holes and put the first coat of paint on a new house (it was finished by the other team on Thursday). Amy and a large group took down a large tent on the camp grounds. On Thursday, our whole team worked at a new church where the outside of the building is done and studs have been installed inside. A group worked with the wiring and installation of lights in the ceiling and most of us worked on the outside cleaning up the building trash and cleaning the lawn (raking ups sticks and weeds for two burn piles) and cutting down a lot of wild landscaping. It was about a three or four acre lot and it was hot and not much shade! The kids did pretty well, but it was good that it was the last day – they were shot.

Both Michael and Amy said the work was hard but not overwhelming and the housing situation was nowhere nearly as bad as Boot Camp last year. Each said the other was a good worker and we were glad to hear that positive report.

Michael said by the end of the week everyone on the team was calling Chuck “Grandpa." And Michael and Amy both said they were thankful Grandpa went; they were happy to have him meet their friends and they were happy their friends thought he was as fun as they do.

Even now Michael and Amy can see how special it was for their grandfather to spend his week working with them; I know they’ll look back on this week with great affection for the rest of their lives.

Man, my kids have some great grandparents.

No More eBay Buying for Me

I’ve been perusing eBay lately, buying and selling. Selling is quite easy – lots easier than I anticipated. So far I’ve only sold a few school books and one coat but each transaction went smoothly, and I’m happy to say I have a 100% positive rating. Of course, I only have nine feedbacks, but at least they’re all green.

A few weeks ago I was at a brick-and-mortar store looking for some horsey stuff for Amy and Rebecca. I immediately thought, “I bet I can find this for less on eBay.” I came right home and found exactly (I thought) what I was looking for at a fraction of the store’s cost. I put in a bid, won the auction and received the riding crop today.

Can I tell you how incredibly disappointed I am?

The listing said the crop was brand new. If flaking leather (can leather flake?) and a water-damaged handle can be considered new then the description was perfect.

I quickly requested a return code and the company will offer me a refund, I’m sure. Only after I contacted the seller, however, I realized that by the time I paid shipping back to the company the shipping costs would be more than I’d paid for the actual crop.

Now the question is what kind of feedback do I leave? The order came quickly, so that’s a plus. Of course, the order is a piece of trash, so that’s a minus. I suppose I’ll go with neutral.

I should have bought the crop at Tom’s. And I think I’ll stick to selling.

Mmm, mmm, good!

Mango Chutney Sauce

1 clove garlic
1 small onion, sliced
1 (9 oz) jar mango chutney
3 tbsp Dijon-style mustard
3 tbsp orange juice
¼ cup light brown sugar
½ ground cloves


Combine all ingredients in food processor; process until smooth.

The recipe calls for it to be spread on ham, then baked for 90 minutes, which is what we did. It was yummy on the ham, but I think it would work well on pork and chicken, especially on the grill.

Quick word of caution: if you’re feeding people with sensitive palates, go with the sweet chutney instead of the hot. Sean and I liked the hot but Rebecca did not!

My-er, #2

I couldn't pass up the chance to share with you a response I received concerning my first Meijer post. I am withholding the author's name, although I honestly think he needs his own blog because he is consistently funny in a P. J. O'Rourke-kind of way. And the world needs more of that kind of funny:

Christy,

Thank you for supporting our locally owned grocery/general merchandise vendor. I hope you enjoy browsing the selection of Chinese manufactured goods and salmonella-laden produce.

Over time you will surely find Meijer to be a competent supplier of at least average quality products. Congratulations for joining me in a thriving, proximity-driven-demand relationship with Meijer where we have the privilege of exchanging U.S. currency for food.

If your Meijer's layout is similar to ours the attached will expedite the surrender of funds.

P.S. Chutney should be in aisle 10.

And the Employee of the Year award goes to...

When Sean told me we were moving to Michigan I decided right then I would not shop at Meijer (pronounced my-er). I saw it as a uniquely Michigan store (although it is also in Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and Kentucky) and I was going to make not shopping there my own private protest.

After we moved I realized the closest Kroger was a good 15 minutes away, and the Wal-Mart Super Center was 5 minutes more. Meijer was right in our town, a mere five-minute drive. But I didn’t care; a little extra time in the car was worth it for my cause. And for the first two years I drove the extra miles to Kroger and refused to shop at Meijer.

I don’t know if you noticed, but gas prices have spiked a bit lately, and I’ve begun to think more about my driving, trying to combine trips to save gas. And as a result of this automotive introspection I re-evaluated my staunch opposition to the big M and decided I had to give it a try. I consoled myself with the money I’d be saving in gas, swallowed hard and drove to Meijer, full grocery list in hand.**

As soon as we walked through the doors Rebecca picked up a Meijer meal planner and asked if we could make the Ham with Mango Chutney Sauce pictured on the front of the card. I had all the ingredients at home minus the ham and chutney so I said yes.

Big mistake. Who the heck knows where chutney is? I figured it had to be around the jelly/jam section. We spent quite a bit of time looking up and down each shelf. We didn’t find mango chutney but we did discover several types of orange butter and orange honey – who knew?

After looking for a good 20 minutes up and down several different aisles including the very lovely fresh market section Rebecca asked if we could ask someone. We found an employee named Tracy and asked if she knew where to find the chutney. She radioed away to someone and was told chutney could be found directly above jams/jellies on aisle 7.

I knew it wasn’t there, but I’d just been told by a very official-looking, blue-shirted Meijer employee that it was indeed on aisle 7. So Rebecca and I wheeled our buggy back to aisle 7 and discovered the only thing above jams/jellies is air. The jellies go all the way up to the tippy top of the shelves.

I apologized to Rebecca but let her know I had already spent entirely too much time in Meijer and I was done. We’d go to Kroger to find the chutney later.

As we walked to the check-out lanes I saw Tracey and let her know the chutney wasn’t there; she instantly reached for her walkie-talkie to help again but I said, “Please don’t worry about it; I’m done shopping for today.”

So on Rebecca and I went, loading up the conveyor belt with our goods and just as I was about to swipe my debit card up runs Tracey with mango chutney in hand. She said, “Bar-b-q sauce and ketchup aisle!” Talk about above and beyond. I thought customer service like that was a thing of the past.

I may not like the thought of shopping at Meijer, but let me tell you, Tracey earned my business yesterday.

Rebecca and I are making Ham with Mango Chutney Sauce for dinner tomorrow night. I’ll let you know how it turns out.


**In the interest of full disclosure: there have been times I’ve run into Meijer for milk or the like. This was the first time I’d gone with a regular, weekly grocery list.

Doctor's Visit Update

I spent all day Friday lamenting the long wait we were sure to encounter at the orthopedist’s office. I wrote a zillion blog posts in my head, naming the doctor and his staff, berating them for double-booking and then not offering one single, “I’m sorry,” or an explanation for the extended and intolerable wait time. I imagined myself writing the AMA, the LSJ, the AAOS and any other lettered association or newspaper who would let our fair doctor know how entirely rude and unprofessional it is to make an appointment, only to ignore his patient for over two hours.

And then my phone rang.

The doctor’s receptionist wanted to let me know the doctor was running a bit ahead of schedule and if we’d like we could come in now we could be seen right away. Two hours before our scheduled appointment.

To say I was stunned is an understatement.

When we saw Dr. D. he explained that Wednesday’s are the worst days for his appointments because that’s when he comes off call. He apologized for our delay and was glad we could come in early and, FYI, Fridays are his best days for staying on schedule.

You have no idea how thankful I was I never posted the rantings rumbling in my head.

I still think it’s unacceptable to make patients wait two hours. However, I understand stuff happens, but when it does, it is completely wrong not to call the patients ahead of time and let them know. It’s also offensive for the doctor or his/her staff to not apologize for an extended wait. But our orthopedist and his staff went a long way on Friday to mend the fences four hours of Wednesday wait time had broken.

But believe me; I’ve already rescheduled our next appointment from Wednesday to Friday.

Fool me once...

I fancy myself a patient person (when not in traffic). And when I go to a doctor’s office, I understand that occasionally things come up and can delay the doc. After all, I don’t want said doc racing through my appointment, so I’m willing to cut him/her some slack and patiently wait a few minutes. What I’m unwilling to do is wait two stinking hours.

Let me rephrase: I was willing to wait two hours for Amy’s orthopedist’s appointment. It was our first visit and Amy needed a cast so I didn’t have much of a choice. The writing was on the wall, however, because there’s a permanent sign posted by the check-in window that states, “Our doctor is a specialist – delays of up to two hours can occur.” Even though I’d seen that sign I figured it had to be an occasional thing, so, being the patient person I am, I waited, Amy got her cast and four hours after our scheduled appointment time, we left.

But when we went back for our second appointment this Wednesday we were told that again the doctor was running two hours behind. Our appointment was set for 3:15; at 5:15 I calmly and quietly inquired as to the estimated length of our wait time. I was told there were four patients ahead of Amy and I could expect her to be seen in an hour or so. I, again calmly, explained that I had a prior commitment and if they could not guarantee we’d be done by 6:15 (three stinking hours after our appointment!) then we’d have to reschedule. The receptionist looked at me and said, with all seriousness, “Can’t you cancel your plans?”

Um, no, crazy lady. I was scheduled to help clean up our church’s kitchen after others had been there to feed 40 people. And my commitment was a full four dadgum hours after Amy’s scheduled appointment! So no, I could not just cancel my plans.

What I wanted to say was, “I know you don’t know who I am, but I have a blog that is read by up to 20 whole people a day, and some of them actually live in Lansing. If you don’t get me in now I intend to publish your doctor’s name and let everyone know he is never on time.”

Instead, I calmly said, “No, I cannot cancel my plans. Please reschedule our appointment.” To which she said, “Friday, 5:00. But I cannot guarantee he’ll be on time.”

No kidding.

So today, at 5:00 we’ll be at the orthopedist’s office and let me tell you, I fully intend to wait and wait and wait. Thankfully I have a good book.

Not (necessarily) safe for work...

I don't know how I found this site, but after spending nearly an hour reading it I feel it is my duty to pass it along: http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/ Oh. My. Word. I had no idea so many wackjobs were really out there.

When your family comes home tonight and wonders why dinner wasn't cooked, just tell them you had to peruse all the previous notes. All of them. Which is why your butt fell asleep an hour ago and why you didn't notice you'd wasted your entire afternoon reading the rants of crazily frustrated folks.

Here are a few samples:

What I'm Thankful For Today

If you don’t go to our church I feel badly for you. Actually, if you live in the Lansing area and don’t go to our church I don’t understand you – it is that good a church. But I feel even more badly for you if you’re not in our small group. Really and truly, I deeply hurt for you. Because our small group is, for lack of a better word, amazing. Amazing. We have people from all walks of life, all different ages and stages with kids ranging in age from in utero to 14 and we have a blast.

We got together tonight for a cook-out. The kids (well, most of them; the youngest grew a bit weary towards the end) did a great job playing together and sharing. When I say that the kids got along well, please understand we’re not talking about four or five kids. We are a very prolific group and between the six families we have 20 kids with two more on the way. Thank goodness for a great big backyard to play in, and a general spirit of helpfulness among the little people.

With the kids occupied by a swing set and endless bubble juice, the adults were able to sit around the kitchen table and chat. We’re still getting to know one another, well, except for the cousins in our group. C. and J. grew up in the church and it appears they know everyone in the church and are usually somehow related to them. Seems we can’t have a conversation without one of them saying, “He’s my uncle,” or “She’s my mom’s cousin twice removed.”

I’m so thankful we were invited to join this group. They are a great bunch of fellow sinners, calling each other to learn more of God’s truth, love God’s word, live what we learn, and love each other, our families and our world as Christ has loved us. These are the people I want walking alongside me as I stumble through the sanctification process. And even though I don’t know any of them terribly well, I know I could call any of them at 2 am if I needed to. What a gift.

Random Thoughts

*Father’s Day was quiet, which was not bad at all. We began our day at church where Sean got to play piano and we heard yet another terribly convicting sermon by Kevin. Michael and Amy were gone so Rebecca celebrated Dad for all three. She drew the most precious card for him.



*The Bucket List wasn’t horrible. Jack Nicholson just scares me. I mean, since I saw the cover picture of The Shinning it’s hard to see a picture of Jack (yes, we’re on a first-name basis) without seeing his eyes bugging out. But it’s hard to not love Morgan Freeman, especially after seeing him as God with Steve Carell in Evan Almighty.

*Rebecca’s at vacation Bible school today so for the next two hours and 15 minutes I have the house all to myself. That is a wonderful thing.

*I am jealous of my son. My mom took him to New York this weekend where they saw Mary Poppins, Stomp and The Phantom of the Opera. I’d have skipped the NBA store, but would have died to do everything else. Being the grandmother has got to be fun. Glad my kids’ grandparents turned out to be so cool.

*I pick Amy up from camp today. Is it horribly wrong to say this was a wonderfully peaceful week and I see it ending at 2:15?

Just call me Eeyore

I have been in a lousy mood for several days now. This is unfortunate timing because it has, quite possibly, been the most stress-free week in recent history. Amy’s away at camp (that factor alone caused my stress level to plunge 90%), we’re not doing any school and my calendar was clear. I should be living large but instead I’ve been moody and grumpy and it’s not even the time of the month when I can get away with that.

Sean took Rebecca to a car show this afternoon so I had a bit of time to myself. I went on-line to hear a few shows of Steve Brown Etc. that I’d missed. As I was listening to his most recent offering I scanned the list of future guests and lo and behold I saw my pastor’s name: Friday, 06.27.08 - Guests: Kevin DeYoung & Ted Kluck - Authors of Why We're Not Emergent (By Two Guys Who Should Be).

I got so excited for them to be on Steve Brown’s show that for a few minutes I forgot my crummy mood and actually felt happy. I emailed Kevin and Ted, told them how excited I was for them and that I’d be listening. My spirit lightened tremendously.

After finding that bit of good news I went on Ted's blog and laughed out loud at one of his posts; it seemed my mood was finally turning.

Then Sean walked through the door and showed me the movie he picked out for our in-home date tonight: The Bucket List with Jack Nicholson (yuck) and Morgan Freeman. I know he only picked it because Morgan Freeman plays Batman’s gadget go-to guy... And before anyone berates me for not appreciating that my husband went to the trouble to get a movie, let me assure you this is not the first dud he's picked out. He is in serious danger of losing his Blockbuster privileges. (Don’t even get me started on the 3 ½ hour-long Jack and the Beanstalk he picked out for family night. Even the kids said we should shred his video card after that disaster.)

I can feel my mood slipping again…

Jumping to conclusions = Bad

Several years ago my parents gave Michael a subscription to Sports Illustrated Kids. He has always loved mail time (probably because my biggest outing when he was a baby was to the mailbox) and when he gets a magazine in the mail he is one happy camper. When Michael turned 14 he asked my parents to up his subscription from SI Kids to SI. I was uneasy about it for reasons beyond the swimsuit edition, but that was certainly a major concern.

So my folks cancelled SI Kids and ordered him SI; he has loved it. He is a huge basketball fan so the last few issues have been right up his alley. And for the most part I haven’t had too many complaints about inappropriate advertising or language. Now that he’s received a couple of copies I’ve stopped guarding him like a hawk and have let him have his magazine.

A few days ago he ran to get the mail and came back in with SI. As usual, Michael sat right down at the kitchen table to pour through it. I was upstairs changing sheets when I heard a gasp and Michael exclaim, “Oh my word, look at that bathing suit!” His words didn’t register until I heard Amy gasping and exclaiming her disbelief at a bathing suit. And then it hit me: they’re looking at Sports Illustrated!

In the 3.6 seconds it took me to fly down the stairs and into the kitchen I was mapping out a plan for Sean to talk to Michael about lusts of the flesh, and I was going to chat with Amy about modesty issues and the like. But when I rounded the corner and saw what they were looking at all my plans flew out the window.

Here’s the picture:

For the record, the picture was taken at a press release for the new Speedo suit. And to say we all had a good laugh is an understatement.

Busy, busy, busy

Lots going on today… first thing this morning I put Amy on a bus and sent her (with one of her favorite buddies) to camp. She’ll be gone until next Monday. A week is a breeze compared to the five weeks she was gone last summer, but still, I could feel a teeny lump in my throat as I tucked her in last night. Even though having her around these days is, well, trying, not having her around means we are missing an integral part of our family. I do miss her, but I must say it’s been nice to be minus the drama over that last several hours.

After seeing Amy off I raced to the orthodontist’s office because it was finally time for Michael’s braces to come off. Yeah, yeah, yeah! He had to wear them a few months longer than anticipated, so to say he was more than ready to have them off is a major understatement. The orthodontist gave him a mug full of gum and Twizzlers and Starburst and microwave popcorn, all the treats from which he was to abstain. Michael went the full 2 ½ years without chewing a single piece of gum. I was very proud of his willpower and dedication to doing what the doctor asked.

One down, two to go.

Look at those pearly whites!

Always wear your wrist guards

Mother’s intuition is a strange thing. I’m pretty good at listening to mine and when I do, I’m rarely disappointed. When I don’t, well, that’s when my daughter breaks her arm in a freak scooter accident and I don’t take her to the doctor for a week, eliciting this response from said doctor: “Why, exactly, didn’t you take her to get it x-rayed when this happened?”

Like I didn’t already have enough guilt.

Of course I didn’t come up with a reply until, well, now, so here it is: "I had a very good reason for not noticing her broken wrist; I was a little obsessed with all the blood on her other arm, nose and lip. And even though I thought Amy was favoring her right arm a bit she didn’t complain of it hurting, plus all the people around convinced me it wasn’t broken. So there, Ms. MD. Thank you very much."

Her wrist is set in a hot pink cast. I opted to get a waterproof cast lining so she can shower and not worry about getting it wet. Plus, she’s going to camp next week and the waterproof cast means she doesn’t have to miss out on the water activities.

The waterproof cast is going a long way to assuage my guilt, but I’m sure this will just be one more thing Amy can talk about in counseling. The session can be titled: “I broke my arm and Mom didn’t notice!” Ah, good times…

GM News

With these new announcements it's clear to see how providential Sean's move from Doraville (which is closing later this year) to Delta Township was. Here's the latest:

GM today announced a range of strategic initiatives to aggressively respond to growing demand for fuel-efficient vehicles and to economic and market challenges in North America. Rick Wagoner, GM chairman and CEO, made the announcements here as part of the GM annual meeting of stockholders:

-- A new global compact car program for Chevrolet, a next generation for the popular Chevy Aveo, and a high efficiency engine module for the U.S. market.
-- Funding for production of the Chevy Volt extended-range electric vehicle.
-- Addition of third shifts to Lordstown and Orion, which build hot-selling Chevy and Pontiac cars.
-- Cessation of production at four plants that build pickups, SUVs and medium-duty trucks.
-- A strategic review of the Hummer brand.

Wagoner said. "Higher gasoline prices are changing consumer behavior, and they are significantly affecting the U.S. auto industry sales mix."

Oshawa Truck Assembly in Canada, which builds the Chevy Silverado and GMC Sierra, will likely cease production in 2009, while Moraine, Ohio, which builds the Chevy TrailBlazer, GMC Envoy and Saab 9-7x, will end production at the end of the 2010 model run, or sooner, if demand dictates. Janesville, Wisconsin, will cease production of medium-duty trucks by the end of 2009, and of the Tahoe, Suburban and Yukon in 2010, or sooner, if market demand dictates. Chevrolet Kodiak medium-duty truck production will also end in Toluca, Mexico, by the end of this year.

A week away

We spent last week in Atlanta – it was most definitely Hotlanta for a few of the days. I did not mind one little bit coming back to the relative coolness of Michigan. I’d forgotten what it’s like to get out of the shower and break into a sweat thanks to the humidity.

I saw some friends whom I miss like crazy; it was good to catch up. We celebrated my nephew’s graduation from kindergarten. He wore a cap and gown, processed in, then he and his fellow graduates serenaded us with great hits like Father Abraham, Who Did Swallow Jonah, the Noah song and seven others – no joke. They sang for thirty minutes! We spent a day and night with Sean’s sister and her precious family. Those kids are growing like weeds. And we ate at Chick-fil-A four times.

But we’re back in the cooler climes of mid-Michigan and I must admit I was ready to get back. I didn’t want to miss a second Sunday at our church, I was ready to open the windows again, and, as much as Georgia will always be home, this crazy place has grown on me. There is so much to like here. I’ve already mentioned the weather, but, please, let me mention it again. In Atlanta I was constantly sweating; from April to October I was one big puddle of sweat. (And this whole glistening things is stupid; I don’t care how fancy a Southern belle you are, you don’t glisten in Atlanta’s heat. You sweat. A lot.) And holy cow, the traffic there is out of control. I don’t know if I could live there again and face all those cars. If it were only the highways I could handle it, but the side streets are so congested and they’re full night and day. I definitely appreciated Lansing’s less-than-crowded thoroughfares after spending a few days on North Atlanta’s.

So it is good to be back. I can’t bring myself to say “home” because that just feels wrong. How do you have two homes? But it is good to be back, it was good to be in church and it was good to have friends who missed me. That sounds a lot like home. Even if I don’t call it that.

I'll never get enough of that yummy Chick-fil-A goodness!