{remodeling thrills} Day Two.

Day two.
Picked out carpet. What I wanted I couldn't have, because our rooms are 14 feet wide {and carpet is 12 feet wide} so we HAVE to have stuff that hides the inevitable seams and not the pretty stuff with the pattern in it that I had my heart set on. But I'm OK with what we picked. I just hope HGTV understands, you know, when they come with their film crew, that what we chose wasn't THE most fabulous carpet there is. It was just ordinary carpet, like everybody else's. 

Like everybody else's. Sigh. I hate those words.

Pulled up old carpet, and lemme tell you... when the carpet is 40 year old, two-inch-thick shag, {literally. two inches.} there is some stuff underneath. Which ends up all over you, in your hair, and up your nose. Don't ask me how I know about that last part...

Yeah. That's dirt where the carpet used to be. Lots. And lots. Of dirt.

Bought a shop vac. After seeing what was under the carpet we knew we needed 1) a shop vac or 2) to burn this house down. It was a tough decision.
 
Toilets delivered. It was like Christmas. And at the rate we're spending money on this house, the new toilets may very well be our only Christmas gifts. Our girls LOVE to get toilets as a gift anyway...
 
I have a plethora of decorating ideas about almost every room but the Master Bedroom. But what to do in the Master Bedroom? Searched "glamorous bedrooms" on Pinterest, and saw lots of mirrored headboards, and I don't get it... 

I mean, is it just me, or does a mirrored headboard spell H-E-A-D I-N-J-U-R-Y? And I like to read in bed and I ain't tryin' to lean up against GLASS. Please. Or at least I used to like to read, and then I got an iPhone. But I don't want to lean against glass to play Words With Friends either. Master bedroom decorating suggestions appreciated...

Michael is installing our new toilet in the downstairs hall bath. Amazing. He can fix ANYTHING. 

For the tenth time he asks where we are putting that freezer, that freezer left behind by the sellers? The answer is still the same... In your shop. It's like maybe if he asks me enough times I'll forget and say, oh baby, lets just keep that big monstrosity freezer in the house because we do NOT want to clutter up your sacred Man Cave with a freezer, of all things, where it would take up valuable TOOL space!

False. He's getting the freezer. I let him win the couch thing, after all.

Update: The freezer is in the game room. I helped Michael put it there. DAGNABBIT! HE ALWAYS WINS, and not only WINS, tricks me somehow into helping him do it... 

I'm reading: {remodeling thrills} Day Two.

Blackberries. Yummy, Lucious Blackberries.

Blackberries are my FAVORITE fruit ever.

It's not quite blackberry season, but it shouldn't be much longer... and believe me, I'll be bringing home my share!

I posted a great easy and HEALTHY recipe for Blackberry Cheesecake Crunch over at Modern Alternative Kitchen, and it's Trim Healthy Mama approved! Click here to check it out! 

{Oh, and isn't that photo INCREDIBLE?!?! My fantabulous husband ROCKS at food photography! Yeah. He's pretty much awesome at everything...}
 

I'm reading: Blackberries. Yummy, Lucious Blackberries.

{Remodeling Thrills} Day One.

We didn't get too far on Day One, and that's mostly because we spent hours frolicking around our new house like baby lambs in a field of daisies, making snow angels in the thick shag carpet because this is OUR house {OURS!} and its JUST PERFECT AND BEAUTIFUL, and talking nonstop for hours about our heartfelt visions and dreams about the FUN, pure THRILLING FUN of transforming this diamond-in-the-rough into a dream estate that HGTV will most likely want to film for its own series because its so dang PERFECT (you know, once we get done)...perusing Lowe's, looking for tools, and getting distracted by the treasures the homeowners left behind. 

It's exciting stuff... I was enamored by a box of old children's books that ALSO included a tiny pair of baby sandals from the 1960s and (AND!) some vintage bird prints from 1942; Michael dove off headfirst into the treasure trove that is his shop and found tons of really cool Mad Men props. I mean, can you BELIEVE the former owners left so much cool stuff behind?!

So while we should have been doing something useful, we were all LOOK!!! THEY LEFT US SOME OLD TUPPERWARE!!! OH MY GOSH ISN'T LIFE GREAT?! There is NOTHING that can go wrong and we're gonna live happily ever after in our cool new house! 

*big happy sighs... 
 

I'm reading: {Remodeling Thrills} Day One.

One Thing I Know About My New Kitchen...

I'm gonna be honest... about the ONLY thing I ever remotely miss about the old Blue House is the kitchen.

That's because I designed it.

After years of tearing out magazine pictures, I knew I wanted a vintage-style kitchen with white subway tiles, a farmhouse sink, and a pale aqua ceiling. I drew out how I wanted it, and got the kitchen of my dreams.

It was beautiful and perfect.

Click here to check out my former kitchen... Pretty, right?

I don't miss anything about life in that house, that chapter is closed and I'm not looking back, but I still love the design of my old kitchen.

I can't WAIT to get moved into our new house. The kitchen is new, with brand-spankin'-new Ikea cabinets. Not what I would have chosen, but it's all new and clean and I'm so incredibly thankful.

But this antique milk glass light fixture from the old Blue House? It's been carefully stored since we remodeled that kitchen in 2006, and it's coming with me.

I'm reading: One Thing I Know About My New Kitchen...

{Michael Cooks} Homemade Nutter Butters.

I know I might have lead you to believe that Michael actually made these cookies, because, you know, I called this post 'Michael Cooks.'

He didn't.

But I'm all Trim Healthy Mama and stuff, and have all these new blog followers who came here for the THM recipes and whatnot, and so making cookies out of white sugar doesn't sound AT ALL like something *I would do. You KNOW me. You can trust me to ONLY make healthy stuff.

{Mostly.}

So that's why, if you see something not so healthy here, it had to have been Michael's idea. I did make these for him, after all. I mean, no... you can't prove I made these, and if I would have made these, hypothetically, they would have been for Michael. So, Michael cooks. The end. Stop making a big deal out of it. Gosh.

But I'll be honest... I do love peanut butter. ALLLL things peanut butter. It was a wicked craving during my first pregnancy in 2001, and its never faded. TCBY Peanut Butter Shakes? OOOOOhhhhh baby.  Braum's Peanut Butter Cup Ice Cream? YES. And of course Nutter Butters.

Of COURSE homemade is ALWAYS better. They taste better. There are no chemicals or preservatives. They aren't five bucks for a measly package that's gone in one blink.

If you're a peanut butter lover like me, you've GOTTA try these.

Unless, of course, you're a Trim Healthy Mama, and then you're gonna want to stop reading right about now and come back after I wrestle control of this blog back from Michael and his sinful recipes.



Start with a good peanut butter cookie recipe. I LOVE this one, because it makes SOFT cookies. That's on account of the four sticks of butter.  

Blame Michael.

I like to use my Pampered Chef scoop so all the cookies will be uniform.

And of course one of the unchangeable laws of the universe is that peanut butter cookies MUST have a criss-cross design pressed into the top with the tines of a fork. Look, I don't make the rules. 

These cookies are delicious enough in and of themselves.

Peanut buttery, buttery goodness. Sweet, and slightly salty.

Bake them a short time so they don't get too hard. Soft cookies are the best. Which is the main reason these are leaps and bounds better than store-bought.

Beautiful... Michael took this picture below. He's really, really good at food photography. That, and thinking up really sinful cookies...

Then there's this FILLING.

Yes, please. Are you kidding me? Shut the front door. I am literally in love with this. I am SOOOO doing this. Nom nom nom. 

Oh no. WHAT HAPPENED?! I'm sorry. I just got drunk on this peanut butter filling and spewed all of the most Annoying and Overused Pinterest Phrases, RIGHT THERE IN ONE PARAGRAPH.

PLEASE forgive me. It won't happen again.

Ahem.

But this filling... use your Pampered Chef Easy Accent Decorator to pipe it in there between two cookies.

And there you have it. I got three marriage proposals from Michael's coworkers the day I sent these to his work. THREE! Feeling lonely? Stock up on some butter and make these today.

Click here for these cookies on Pinterest.

Homemade Nutter Butter Cookies
Ingredients
2 Sticks (1 cup) butter, softened
1 cup peanut butter (I like crunchy for the cookies)
1 cup sugar
1 cup brown sugar, packed
2 eggs
2 tsp vanilla
2 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder (make sure it doesn't have aluminum, so your cookies will be healthy...)
1 tsp sea salt (I like Real Salt)

Filling
2 Sticks (1 cup) butter, softened
1 cup peanut butter (creamy works best for filling)
4 cups (1 box) powdered sugar
1 tsp sea salt
2-3 tablespoons milk


Directions
For the cookies... Preheat oven to 350*, then...
1. IN a large mixer bowl, cream together butter, peanut butter, and sugars until light and fluffy, about two minutes.
2. Add eggs and vanilla and mix well.
3. In a small mixer bowl, stir together your dry ingredients: flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Add this to your butter mixture and mix well.
4. Using a scoop or two teaspoons, form dough into 1-inch balls and place them on a baking stone (or cookie sheet) 2 inches apart. Using a fork, press down slightly to make a criss-cross pattern; I found that rocking the fork back and forth works best since this dough is so buttery.
5. Bake 10 minutes or until edges are slightly golden; remove from oven and allow to cool on your stone until cookies flatten themselves slightly (they'll be puffy when you pull them from the oven).
6. Transfer to a wire rack and allow to cool completely.

Meanwhile, make the filling:
7. IN a large mixer bowl cream together butter and peanut butter until smooth.
8. SLOWLY add powdered sugar, 1/2 cup at a time, unless you want to wear it; add your salt. Slowly add milk until your frosting is a spreadable consistency.
9. Spread a tablespoon or two of filling onto the bottom of one cookie, then press another cookie to form a sandwich.
10. Pick out your wedding dress, baby. The proposals are gonna be rolling in.

I'm reading: {Michael Cooks} Homemade Nutter Butters.

Happy Birthday Annie!

My sweet Annie is seven years old!

She's my hilarious, nutty, quick-witted child who keeps us laughing ALL the time.

Plus she pretty much knows all there is to know about the Bible, and about dancing. Her words. She's brilliant AND talented, is what I'm trying to say.

But then she says stuff like "throw upping" when she's sick and "hicking up" when she has the hiccups, and it's just so dagdum cute that I hope she never learns the right way to say some things.

She LOVES to make up scary stories to try to scare US, and ends up scaring herself. First there was the story about a woman who had her head tied on with a ribbon, and when her husband untied the ribbon, her body fell off. 

And then there was the one about a ghost of a little girl, and to REALLY drive the point home she snuck around the corner moaning 'liiiiiiiiiittttttle giiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrl.......' in a creepy ghost voice. It backfired on her when she creeped her own self out.

She does love her Bible study, and playing school, and often combines the two, teaching her imaginary class in her bedroom all about the Bible. She's told them John 3:16 is the most important verse in the whole Bible, and talked to them all about what happens when you die.

I can't imagine what big things are in store for her future, but I KNOW it will be big time fun, whatever it is, for this Jesus-loving, dance-mastering (she thinks), hilarious little comedian.

And I'm so, so thankful that she's mine. Thank you, Lord, for the past seven years.

I'm reading: Happy Birthday Annie!

Hair Envy.

I wouldn't say I have the worst hair in the world. 

No, because there's that woman who works at WalMart who has twelve hairs on her head and a full beard on her face. I know you've seen her.

She makes me feel better about myself.

But my hair, while not that bad, is hard to deal with.

In fact, I was telling my mom about this blog post this morning and she reminded me of how as a child, my hair was THE WORST of her three daughters, and how hard it was to fix, and to cut, because it was like plastic Barbie doll hair. I had to have store- bought hair cuts, while she could cut the others' at home, because they had decent hair that could be cut in a straight line.

I'm sensing a home hair cut gone awry judging by those bangs.

I know exactly what she means because Annie has that same slick plastic-y hair that slips and slides around (compounded by half a dozen cowlicks) that makes it pretty dang impossible to style or to be constrained by a ponytail holder. I'm sorry, Annie; it will be better 30 years from now, but you'll have to pay good money for it... ask me how I know.

And then mom told me about that time when I was three and pilfered a pair of scissors and cut my own bangs -- diagonally, which made her JUST SICK. I am quite sure that it did, because I know how slowly my hair grows and how excruciatingly looooong it takes to overcome a bad hair cut. 

But that wasn't the last time I cut my own hair. From 1984 to 1987 I thought the more bangs you have, the better. If your hair looks like a flock of seagulls, then job well done. Mullet, I believe, is the official name for this disaster.

Yeah, I did that myself. I mean, I had watched my hair being cut many times, and it didn't look that hard. I distinctly remember making one cut, then I had to even it up, and make another one, even it up, and so on, until I had bangs clear to the back of my head. Heaven help. 


Things got better in high school with the invention of the spiral perm. 

This was our church directory picture, circa 1989. I remember my dad taking one look at this picture and with a huge sigh, saying he couldn't wait until hair styles changed. I was shocked, because, I mean, truly, was there ANYTHING more BEAUTIFUL than a spiral perm?!!

Hot rollers.... staple of high school hair.

For senior prom, I rolled, teased, sprayed, teased, sprayed, teased. Oh, it was gorgeous. It could have withstood gale force winds.

Isn't it weird how my date was headless?! 

Hair continued to get bigger, but sadly, this was the best I could do. This was my senior picture...

What... you think THAT'S big?! Oh no, honey... with my extra fine blonde hair, I never could get more than an inch or two of height, and that was with six hair products and half a can of hairspray, holding the sides out while I dried the hair spray with a hairdryer.

My sister, with her good hair, had me beat by a mile...

Sorry Betsy. I had to.

Then there were these girls, from the back of my yearbook. The pinnacle of hair excellence, right here. THIS explains massive inferiority complex in high school, because I could never, ever compete with these girls and their hair.... (and I'm still jealous).

In my college days came the 'grunge' thing... you know, flannel shirts. I wore flannel shirts and hiking boots to go out. THAT was 'dressed up.' It seems so strange now. And suddenly straight hair was acceptable again.



After college I thought my long hair made me look really young {it did} and I wanted to be  treated like a grown-up instead of a kid. I wanted to look like a business woman {Romy & Michelle, ahem}. I cut my hair. I wore pumps and bought suits from Casual Corner. I still got treated like a kid. 

1996. My 'grown-up' look.

My hair got shorter and shorter. At the time, I thought I looked good. Then I look back at pictures and snicker at myself... 

My hair looks like a stiff, sprayed-up football helmet.

The 'Meg Ryan' look.  

What is this?! I look like a bottle brush!

shorter still.... 

And then it happened. I was addicted to hair cuts. Until that day in the stylist's chair, when she told me she wanted to make my hair 'close to my head' in the back. I said, "Sure! Yeah! I don't care. Whatever." and promptly buried my nose in an InStyle magazine and paid no attention as she gave me this... 

At a formal event in Hawaii.

As it turns out, 'close to your head' means 'one-quarter of an inch long.' I left in tears.

The haircut was phenomenal -- never before or since have I gotten that many compliments on my  hair -- but it wasn't me. I'm traditional, dangit. I like long hair on women. And skirts. And cooking in an apron and staying home with the children.

It took years for that stuff to grow out. YEARS. And it's not as long as I want it to be now, but it's getting there. Thank goodness for those prenatal vitamins...

My dream hair? Voluminous waves like these. Long, flowing voluminous waves like these... 

(I can dream, can't I?)



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I'm reading: Hair Envy.