Don't drink the starch.

They say blogs are supposed to be about one topic, be it weight loss or parenting or organizing your life.  I don't do that.  I dump my brain's contents out and let you sort through the mess.  

I'm sorry about that.  Well, no, I'm not.

I got up this morning and my wrist is still bothering me.  I always hit the gym in the morning so I put an ACE bandage around my wrist for a little extra support.  I got a few "What happened?" and honestly, I wasn't ashamed to tell them. 

I over quilted last weekend. 

Hi, I'm Dena and a quilter.  Actually, I'm one step away from hoarder-level status fabric and pattern whore.  I've been quilting for about 10 years.  I went through this phase where if it sounded interesting, I'd take a class.  

Cake Decorating... fun... gained 8 pounds in a month... had to quit.

Bikram Yoga... too expensive... threw up behind a dumpster more than once... had to quit.

Skiing... too much traffic and let's get real, I was born on the beach.  This downhill nonsense is scary when you're old enough to realize that you can break bones.

 

Quilting.  Cue the heavens opening up and rays of sunshine casting their gloriousness upon my face!  

That took and I quickly began my love of a great hobby.  Fast forward years later and some friends and I are making a regular habit of going on Quilting Retreats.  Capital Q and Capital R.  Ha ha ha, you say but I think there's no better way to unwind than to get out of cell phone range, take my makeup off, change into some yoga pants, get my headphones on, feel the rhythmic drum of my machine running and quilt until I pass out.  It's better than sex... wait... um... strike that but it's definitely up there.  Really, it might just depend on the day.

Sadly, though, for reasons beyond the scope of this post, our retreats have been getting less frequent (life, babies, people not quilting anymore) and I needed some new blood.  Luckily, my friend, Katie, planned one at the right time.  I didn't know anyone going but I'm not exactly the shy type.  I loaded my iPod and quilted... and quilted... and quilted.

Not really.  Quilting is the act of sewing together (preferably with a fabulous pattern) three layers.  A top, a back and batting, which is the stuff that keeps you warm.  I like to quilt but I LOVE to make the design-y tops.  Not sure if it's the architect in me but I love bringing color and texture together and seeing what I can make.  And if it keep you warm... that's love. Real squishy love.  Fuck this rom-com, fairy tale ending love... a quilt is love.

I sewed for hours.  I broke for meals and sewed for more hours.  Here's some of my finished work from that weekend:

How about staring at this view all weekend.  See, now you get me.

This was a mystery quilt.  I just had the binding left to do.

This was my foray into Homespuns.  It was an experiment with a fabric I don't work with often.  I won't be repeating.

This is an original design.  I paper pieced it because that's a technique I love.  There could have been more contrast between the colors but you live and learn.

This is a One Block Wonder.  It's all constructed from a single fabric.  Crazy, right?

Another original work of mine.  I was testing the pattern.  There's still some more to finish.

A quick little quilt for Sarah.  She loves this book.

A table runner kit I bought.  I forgot I even had it.  Told you I was entering hoarder levels.

Our workspace.

Found this in the room.  Not sure, where your quat is.

But wait, then a few weeks later, there's a spot opening up at our usual place and though it's 100% last minute, 4 of us are able to go.  One ducks out quickly which leaves this huge area for 3 ladies... and we sew and we sew.  Here's some of my finished work from that weekend:

Adding the applique from the previous retreat.  I'm sure this is where I overdid the wrist.

Finished the top.

Another kit I forgot I'd had.  It looked much better than the original picture on the kit.

Extra fabric from the first pigeon quilt means that baby sister gets her own.  No sharing required.

A Christmas table runner.

 

So I sewed with abandon and didn't want to come home yet.  (Even though, I have a kick-ass husband who let's me ditch town for a few days twice in a month!)  See, the next best thing is making new friends.  From that first retreat, I walked away with some new lovely ladies in my life and who doesn't need new lovely ladies?  All interesting and all inspiring.  

At the second retreat, we had a guild next door and the ladies invited us to eat with them.  They were a rowdy bunch and I liked them immediately.  They talked about quilts and books and traveling and all sorts of stuff.  Of course, I was angling to invite myself to more retreats.  

They make their own starch and maybe were taking a shot of it too...  *devil grin*   Maybe I should start making my own starch too.  Seems like a great way to go through life. 

The Transfer

I went to lunch today with my ladies.  We were rolling into naptime for the littles when we all left and I thought "I'm rocking the timing"!  It's because I kick ass.

Driving home, I see the Little One starting to fall asleep and we're 10 minutes out.

"LITTLE ONE, WAKE UP BABY!"

"Sarah, please help me wake Kate up."

"LITTTTLLLEEEEE ONNNNEEEEE, WAKE UP!!!!!"  "LITTTTLLLEEEEE ONNNNEEEEE, WAKE UP!!!!!"  "LITTTTLLLEEEEE ONNNNEEEEE, WAKE UP!!!!!"

Then the music gets louder.

If she falls asleep now, I'll never get her transferred to her crib for a long nap.  

"LITTLE ONE, GET UP!"

Then the concrete truck pulls out in front of me.  Then more red lights.  Then a tow truck with car in tow and now it's starting to rain so naturally, everyone starts driving really slowly.

At this point, I'm using the mom arm to reach around the back of my seat and pull on poor Little One's foot.  There's crying.  There's screaming and I think, "Please don't fall asleep!"  It's abundantly clear that I no longer kick ass.

We get home.  

I get her to her crib and say "Are you tired?"

She shakes her sad little face, "yes".  The sad little face I made cry.

I lay her into her crib and kiss her so gently on the head.

I tip toe out and shut the door.

Someone's wide awake. 

Ben & Jerry's threw us a party. No lie.

So this article comes out about when Ben and Jerry's introduced their new core flavors and my little circle of girls is all "ooh...ahhhh... that looks so good".

One of my favorite, fabulous ladies says "great" and invites us all over to her house for a night of pajamas, Rock Band and ice cream. Girls Night In! Whoop whoop.

She didn't know how much ice cream and which flavor so she buys 2 pints of each flavor. It's 10 pints and we're thinking it's a ridiculous amount of ice cream but let's take the obligatory selfie shot because how often are you playing with that much ice cream?

A few days later, we're sitting around having a conversation about Twitter and how it's nice to be able to contact companies for both good and bad reasons.

Someone says to me, "Did you Tweet Ben and Jerry's?"

"No, where's my phone?"

I send them this:  "Girls night in celebrating @benandjerrys core flavors #mykindofparty"

They favorite and retweet and respond and I'm thinking I'm pretty hot stuff.

A few days later, I receive a message from Ben and Jerry's corporate that says "We love that you had a party featuring us and we want to know if we can be invited to the next one."

"Ok, sure.  Why not!"  Of course, I'm assuming that they mean buy more ice cream.

"Ok, send us a place and where to be."

Ummm... I'm speaking to a random stranger on the internet so how about no?  This is how I end up like a Dateline story.

They apologize for frightening me and explained that they appreciate their customers and would like to cater a full sundae party for my next GNI. Well hot damn! Next thing I know, I'm getting flavor requests for headcounts and allergies and the whatnot to give to the local franchisee . 

Naturally I had to choose all the obscure flavors I wouldn't normally buy.  

So we had a Ben and Jerry's party!

...and it was obscenely ridiculous and I'd do it again.

In.  A.  Heartbeat.


(Super special shout out to Ben and Jerry's and Ben and Jerry's Denver!)

I just went for a lamp and a picture.

I went to IKEA with the baby on Thursday.  I went for a new little lamp and a picture so not a huge trip.  No one was buying a couch.  In and out in 30 minutes... no problem!

It's a long drive to our IKEA and I thought it opened at 9.  Well, according to the website it opens at 9.  Really, it's 10.  Luckily, the Little One falls asleep in the car and I've got a Kindle so we're golden.  Way to be prepared.  I kick ass!

The store opens, the Little One's awake and I get her out and the poor thing is in dire need of a diaper change.  We go in and immediately head for the restrooms.  I come upon the family restroom first and since those are my personal favorites, being private and all, don't mind if I do!

Get her pants off, undo the onesie and reach in my bag for the stuff.  Got the wipes.  Check.  Diapers....ummmm...  I do not have a single diaper.

Ugh but I notice a diaper kit machine right next to me on the wall.  Like those tampon dispensers you see all the time.  They're $1.00.  4 quarters please.  Grab my wallet.  I have 3 quarters and it only takes quarters.  Ugh.

I put the Little One's clothes back on.  Poor thing and I walk up to the cafe for change.  The girl can't open the register without a purchase or a manager or some unholy reason so she offers me a quarter from her pocket.  I offer her a dollar for it and she balks.  Seriously, how nice is that?!?

Back in the family room and I put in the quarters.

First one... plink

Second one... plink

Third one... plink

Fourth one... KERPLUNK.

You've GOT to be kidding me so I'm banging on the machine and pulling the knob and generally starting to think that this is far from the original plan.  The machine has now eaten my money and I have no diaper to show for it.  Alas, I see the machine has two locks and the bottom lock is undone on the cover.  I can see into the machine and I can see that there's diapers in there.  I stick my hand in there and can't even begin to come close to reaching it.  No, I didn't get my hand stuck in there but I was close. 

There's a sign on the wall that says if I have trouble with the diaper kit machine to go to the play area.  Back on go the pants.  The Little One's utterly confused and I'm not thrilled.

So I go to the play area like the sign says and wait in the world's longest line.  OK... maybe not but there's 2 families ahead of me and there's forms to fill out and rulers to measure kids and rules to review and kisses and hugs so Mommy can go look at a headboard and buy a candle.

I get up to the front and the girl in the nicest way possible tells me that the Little One is too little to come in the play area.

"I understand but I'm out of diapers and long story short, it says to come and ask you."

"Oh, let me look."

Searching...searching... searching.

"Looks like we're out of diapers."

 "Can you call maintenance?"

I wait and apparently, there's not a diaper to be found in IKEA.  I said "Do you have a key for the machine?  I see that there's diapers in the machine."

Oh.  My.  God.

In all this while, I'm scanning the front doors for a mom with non-potty trained kid to walk by and I'm asking.

"Pardon me..."  "Excuse me..."

There's a lot of people walking through the door but it takes me 20 minutes to find my angel and she gives me a Pull-up.  She apologizes for it having Lighting McQueen and Mater on it.  I love her.  Real love.  The love of ages.

I go back to the family restroom and change poor Little One who's butt is a new shade of "I'm going to need some Aqualox."  All is right with the world again.

Since we're here.  Why don't I pee?

So there I am.  Door's locked.  Pants around my ankles.  Feeding my Candy Crush addiction.  The Little One's dry and clean and happily wandering around our private little abyss.

No stalls.  Just us.  You know the drill.

She goes over to the door and grabs the lever to open the door. 

"Little One, no!"

The door gets unlocked but not opened.  I'm still on the toilet.

All of the sudden, this older lady comes in with what is obviously her grandkid and is "ooh...I'm so sorry!"

In this situation, one might assume she would back out immediately and apologize profusely.  I would have. Instead of backing out and shutting the door... she STANDS THERE!!!  Door open to the front of the world's largest IKEA and starts explaining that she didn't know there wasn't stalls in the family restroom.

I say "that's alright but can I finish up alone?"

She's obviously completely flustered and says "Oh, sure..." and she CONTINUES to stand there with the door open herding her little one into the room with the Little One and I. 

All fucking four of us are in there and I'm on the toilet.  I say "Um, can you get out or I have to call security and tell them there's a pervert in the bathroom?"

She say "Oh, um...I don't want to reopen the door."

"That's fine.  My dignity went out the door already."

I finished up, washed up and told her to have a nice day.  

..and then I bought a lamp and a picture.

Lasagna Soup

This is a recipe I found in a cookbook and adapted it to my taste.  It's a super easy, cold weather favorite.  Everyone I've passed it along to seems to like it so we're putting it in a place for safekeeping. 

While this is the original recipe below.  My adaptations are these:

-I don't use the oil.  The sausage is fatty enough.

-I use less sausage (1 pound only) and broth (eyeballed but I like this soup thicker).
-I add some spinach or zucchini.
-Also, I'd be lying if i said I didn't use more cheese. I mean really?  Let's get honest about cheese.

You can do it on the stovetop or in the crockpot. I've done both.

It makes a lot so I do the noodles separately since they get gross in leftovers...

Lasagna Soup

Yield: 8 servings

Ingredients for the soup:
2 tsp. olive oil
1-1/2 lbs. Italian sausage
3 c. chopped onions
4 garlic cloves, minced
2 tsp. dried oregano
1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
2 T. tomato paste
1 28-oz. can fire roasted diced tomatoes
2 bay leaves
6 c. chicken stock
8 oz. mafalda or fusilli pasta
1/2 c. finely chopped fresh basil leaves
salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

for the cheesy yum:
8 oz. ricotta
1/2 c. grated Parmesan cheese
1/4 tsp. salt
pinch of freshly ground pepper

additional cheesy yum:
2 c. shredded mozzarella cheese

Heat olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add sausage, breaking up into bite sized pieces, and brown for about 5 minutes. Add onions and cook until softened, about 6 minutes. Add garlic, oregano, and red pepper flakes. Cook for 1 minute. Add tomato paste and stir well to incorporate. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes, or until the tomato paste turns a rusty brown color.

Add diced tomatoes, bay leaves, and chicken stock. Stir to combine. Bring to a boil and then reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes. Add uncooked pasta and cook until al dente. Do not overcook or let soup simmer for a long period of time at this point, as the pasta will get mushy and absorb all the soup broth.

You may even want to consider cooking the noodles separately, and then adding some to individual bowls before ladling the soup over them. This would be an especially smart move if you are anticipating any leftovers. Right before serving, stir in the basil and season to taste with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

While the pasta is cooking, prepare the cheesy yum. In a small bowl, combine the ricotta, Parmesan, salt, and pepper.

To serve, place a dollop of the cheesy yum in each soup bowl, sprinkle some of the mozzarella on top and ladle the hot soup over the cheese.

Original recipe from 300 Sensational Soups by Carla Synder

Jumping in with both feet.

I'm so late to the game.  Like, seriously late.  Years late.

I'm jumping in.  There's a blog now.  Mainly, it's a place that I can drop my weird stories and hopefully give a friend a laugh or two.  I really have come to believe that weird sh*t happens to me for the sole purpose of repeating it and watching people giggle.

I make no promises about writing as I've never been much of a journal-er but I have good intentions.

So please, if I've ever given you a giggle... send me a like or comment.  

If you remember a story I should add here... let me know.

(I also don't write code so putting this simple blog together took days!  Yay me!)