Sunday, August 28, 2011


Birthdays are fun. Today is mine.
I like planning parties for other people, but not so much for me. I really prefer a nice quiet simple birthday. And by simple, I mean I want lots of nice quiet little things sprinkled through out the entirety of my birthday month.

Cory is such a sucker/sweetie about it. And really, its his own fault. I was never this way before he got involved in the birthday planning. You see, if I say I want something within a 6 month period of a gift giving occasion (read: Anniversary, Birthday or Christmas. (read further: it's ALWAYS within a 6 month period of one of these occasions)), he'll say "Why don't you just wait and ask for it for your birthday/Christmas?" And so I do.

And so I end up asking for a million things, and Cory will say, "Well, okay. It is for your birthday, after all."

This was not my intention, really. But sometimes things just work out.

We both like using occasions as an excuses to get what we really want. It works for us.

 Maybe some people would find it sad that I tell Cory exactly what I want, then get on the internet and order it for myself while yelling out to Cory, "I'm buying my birthday present!"

But I don't feel sad. I actually feel the complete opposite of sad. I get what I want, I'm never disappointed ( I very rarely let myself down), and when it gets here I get to love it and hug it and rock it to sleep...

Would you like to meet my precious?

Oh you glorious bag. How do I love thee? Shall we count the ways? 1) Your pretty color matches my favorite pair of flats exactly. 2) You look so chic. 3) You come with two straps. 4) You have lots of pockets. and 5) You're really a camera bag.

That's right. This bad boy has effectively solved the issue I was having regarding bringing my other precious out into the world. Our camera came with it's own very nice, very big, standard issue black bag. A bag that wouldn't fit into my purse. So, if I wanted to bring the camera, I had to carry two cumbersome bags around. Annoying.

Also, I felt the black bag sent a message along the lines of: "Expensive technological equipment inside. I would be an excellent choice for mugging, if you felt so inclined."

Safety first, right? I needed the bag. So Cory told me I could have it. So I got it. And I love it.  And it was my official birthday present.

I also got some shelves this month. I've planned on getting them since we moved in, but I got them this month so in our house that makes them a birthday present. Cory complained less than usual as he put them up, seeing as how it was my birthday month. And that, my friends, is truly a gift.

I looooove these shelves. They sit over my desk, and hold crafty supplies, and books, and knick knacks.

A lot of knick knacks. I have a problem.

Even on top of that, he wanted to celebrate yesterday! He said, "We can go to the mall and get you some new clothes for your birthday!"

Ummm...who are you? Where's my Cory?

We went. It took me four hours to find one shirt I liked. I don't think Cory will ever go with me again. 

So, Happy birthday to me! 22 years and still going strong. 

Now, you'll have to excuse me while I go eat some cheesecake.

P.S. On an unrelated note, ever since we watched The Music Man with my parents Cory has been randomly shouting, "Not one POOP outta you!" It's hilarious. And awkward sometimes. Also, it should be known that his favorite song from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is "Toot Sweets." I'm sensing a theme here...

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Cooking Up a Storm

A while ago I found a copy of my Mom's classic Betty Crocker Cookbook at Goodwill. My mom got hers as a present from her mom, and it's the cookbook we grew up with. It pretty much tells you how to do everything. Here's an excerpt from the front pages:

Its been tested people. By Betty Crocker herself. It's one of my most favorite cookbooks. Many a dinner has been loosely based on one of these recipes. (Very loosely.) And every time I see it I'm hit with the urge to put on an apron and cook something.

Speaking of cooking something, we made some homemade pizza with our friends Chris and Kendal the other night. Kendal made the most delicious dough from scratch. Scratch! She's awesome.

Chris broke out the ol' Chuckie Cheese skills, and taught us how a real man rolls out pizza dough.

He makes it look so easy!!
And then we spread on the toppings.
Kendal's side vs. Chris's side.

Pepperoni, onion, bell pepper, and mushroom.
Pretty much anything goes over here.
Dinner was delicious, and it reminded me, yet again, of how much I like cooking things. 

A few weeks ago I bought a five pound bag of green apples. I wanted some apples, but buying a few single apples was just as expensive as buying a whole five pound bag! So I bought it.

Turns out, that was a little excessive. Also turns out, Cory doesn't eat apples.

The combination of our newfound Betty Crocker confidence, Chris and Kendal's homemade pizza inspiration,  and half a bushel of leftover apples made for what some would call, The Perfect Storm. You know, if you liken kitchen experimentation to a storm. Which, over here, we most definitely do.

I told Cory we could make some apple empandas. When he asked what an empanda was, I told him I wasn't sure, but I think its kind of like an apple turnover. When he asked what an apple turnover was, I told I thought it was kind of like a hot pocket and apple pie had a baby.

Finally, we were on the same page. And so I looked up "Apple Pie" in the good ol' Betty Crocker bible, and very loosely came up with this.

Then we took a four hour break to have Sunday dinner at Cory's parent's house. So...yea. The lighting is significantly worse from here on out.

We broke out those crescent rolls. Ready to bake is how we decided to go here. We'll go real home made next time. Maybe.

I love the "pop" of the crescent rolls. Always have. Cory wasn't expecting it though, and when the tiny explosion happened he was very concerned. "Are you okay??" he asks.

My method of filling was, haphazard at best. Plop some apple slices down, roll up the dough, and call it good.

Cory was not having it. "Haphazard" is not how he rolls. The sounds of general consternation were unceasing from his end.

I thought it was going swimmingly. I got excited about one of the more perfect of my little apple-crescent balls o' happiness, and said, "Ooo, this is gonna be a cute one"

Cory holds up the mangled, oblong pile of dough and apples with this disgusted look on his face.

He says, "Lindy. I don't think these are going to be as cute as you think they are."

But, they totally were.

They taste alright too. 

Sunday, August 14, 2011

An herb update and rose colored dishes.

My herbs are growing!! 

The basil sprouted about five days after I planted, and is really taking off:

And the parsley has finally decided to make a showing.

The chives have yet to make an appearance. I haven't given up on them yet though.

When I was in Utah in June, we hit up the DI. It was awesome. I found this little pink cup.

I bought it (For like, fifty cents) and told my mom I was going to start collecting pink depression glass. She told me that sounded nice.

Then a few weeks ago I was thrifting with my girl Kristen, and saw this little beauty:

I bought it (Ninety nine cents. Sold.) My collection was moving right along!

A few days ago, my mom called and asked me for my address. I gave it to her.

This showed up a few days later:

My mom mentioned my fledgling collection to one of her friends in North Carolina, and then when her friend was thrifting in Minnesota, she saw the little beauties above. She bought them and mailed them to me!

I jumped and squealed and maybe even did a little dance in the kitchen when I opened the box.

Cory says that "now I'll never win."

That's right. Filling up my house with junk has now become a national pastime. Coast to coast, baby.

Now it's a real collection.
If you're first response to this is, "That's nice, but WHY, Lindy?" You should know that it would look
really cute in a baby girl's room. Yes, the one that doesn't exist yet. 

Its kind of fun to have a specific "thing." I've never really had one before that I know of. Well, some people would count random ceramic animals as a thing. Then maybe I have two "things."

But sometimes they overlap.


It won't always be this way

Note: I wrote most of this post last week while I was working through some work frustrations and general dissatisfaction with current events, but thought it ended up a little too sappy for the public. But I changed my mind. I feel like most people that read my blog can probably relate, so I clicked publish today.

Sometimes I find myself longing for the future. This magical time that I've built up in my head that is going to be so awesome and happy.

Sometimes this is when I'm sitting at my desk at work for the 9th hour that day, staring at a computer screen and silently screaming at the e-mails pouring in: "I DON'T care about your problems; I have a graduation to help plan! And phone calls to answer...and degrees to post..."

Sometimes I get a little tense.

And then I comfort myself with the phrase  "It won't always be this way."

There is no trash receptacle in front of our apartment building. For some reason they skipped our  building. We have to walk quite a ways to get to one. Taking the trash out is Cory's designated chore, and he doesn't relish the long solitary journey. When our trash bag reaches its limit he alluringly calls out: "Want to go for a walk?" So, I put on my pants and he holds me in one hand and a stinky bag of garbage in the other and we take a walk. To the dumpster.  And then I even recycle sometimes.

And I get a little wistful when I realize it won't always be this way.

Sometimes I go to bed at 10:30 PM, and sleep for 8 hours straight. No interruptions. Just me and my pillow. Doing what we do best. All night long.

And I get very, very nervous when I realize that it won't always be this way.

When we drive down the road together, Cory likes to hold my hand. He sneaks his over to my lap, and gets frustrated when I'm holding anything "in his spot." So I put down whatever I'm holding (unless its breakable. then he just has to suck it up and deal.) and hold his sweet, sweet hand.

And I hope it will always be this way.

Cory's noticed something about me. Its a huge character flaw, really. I'm always, and I mean ALWAYS dreaming and scheming of what I want to do next. I show him pictures of shelves we can build, the garden we can plant, clothes I want to buy, places I want to travel, and crafts I want to do with the money we don't really have.

"Lindy," he says,"Why can't you be happy with what you already have?"

It's a problem. I've acknowledged it and I'm working on it.

I blame fabulous blogs and Pinterest. Enablers!

Also, I must say, we both acknowledge that generally I'm very easy to please--just give me some garbage and really, I'm happy. Thrilled even.

But nevertheless, I accept the challenge you didn't know you issued, Cory. I will be happy with what I have.  I will make do.

(Starting right after you put up those shelves over my desk.)

 I'll probably still be scheming, dreaming, and have a million little projects around.   But, I will allow myself to just enjoy this stage for what it is.

This blissfully quiet, and relatively responsibility free time. We're working towards our goals--graduating debt free, saving for a Europe trip, our very own house someday, a new car (oh to dream), and maybe even a baby or two (or three or five) down the road.

Take the time we have now to work on ourselves, our habits, and our relationship.

Because it won't always be this way.