- Oregon Culinary Institute‘s newest chefs
I believe it was Claire Dunphy who said, “If Haley never wakes up on a beach in Florida half naked … I’ve done my job.” I’m no Claire Dunphy and Tonton’s definitely far from a “Haley” minus the love of beanies, but I like to think I’ve done an okay job too.
My son. He says things to random strangers like, “How many smiles have you had today? Well, here’s one for you.” and he does things like walk with me down a Walmart aisle at midnight in search of active bacteria just because it means he gets to spend time with his mama. I love my son. I miss him dearly every day of my life without him.
Sometimes, when it’s really quiet and no one’s around I get these visions of a little four year old lying in his plastic blue car bed waiting for me to wind up his lullaby toy so he can fall asleep. It wasn’t that he couldn’t wind it up himself or that I couldn’t sing. Those memories are happy and sad and I still have trouble not wishing I could turn back time when they hit me.
I know he’s too old for words of wisdom from a mom who made more mistakes than dinners, flew off the handle so many times he had to ride the proverbial bike of life without them and mistakenly posted winky faces instead of smiles on his Facebook page to his utter embarassment, but here they are anyway cause that’s how I roll
1. Keep stopping on your way to anywhere to take pictures of beautiful things and share them with the world. That majestic flower in the middle of downtown Portland was famous for a day because of you.
2. Don’t stop smiling at people, especially the ones who may not smile back. Sometimes they just don’t know how. It’s true.
3. Follow your blips. You have the best happiness radar you could ever hope for and you’ve used it time and time again to lead you to what makes you want to put on a beanie and ride the bus to “work”. Oh, and never let work become “work”.
4. I love you are words you can use when you are happy, sad, disappointed, furious, lonely, bummed, perplexed, mesmerized, scared and at a loss for words. Use them often, like salt.
5. Remember that there is nothing you can do to separate me from you. Yeah, it’s that simple.
6. Finally, in the words of your very own chefs, always “Bring it!”
I walked in and saw three large tubs in the foray at Russ and Kanae Quinn’s. We were there for Love Languages with our awesome group of Marriage Encounter friends. I assumed that the roof was leaking or that Russ and Kanae were cleaning their floors, so I didn’t really think to ask why Russ and Jun had these great big silly grins on their faces. Then they told us they were going to wash our feet. This is how we opened our fourth Love Language: Acts of Service.
Serving your spouse might not be the easiest thing to make into a habit, especially if the things they enjoy don’t exactly make it to your favorites list. For some, it might mean doing the dishes without being asked or being your husband’s golf caddy on a hot sunny day. Acts of service however, are just that. They are actions, not intentions. You can tell someone you love them, you can even feel it deeply and genuinely, but it’s important that you show your spouse how much they mean to you by doing things that fill their love tank.
So many things I gotta say, I gotta gotta say, I gotta gotta say, gotta say, gotta say, gotta say, gotta say! I bet you sang that when you read it, ha ha. Then you know that feeling when there’s just too much to say that you don’t even know how to start? My cup literally overflows, I’m feeling like that right now, I’m so happy and so tired and so overwhelmed, but completely in awe of the blessings that have come our way.
Prepping for Hope’s trip to Stanford for the Junior Statesmen Program has been both thrilling and super duper time consuming. Wayne and I are amazed at the outpouring of support from friends and family. The lunch sales and comedy show were successful and fun. Usually things like fund raising take so much out of you that you can’t enjoy the moment, but not this time! This time we laughed, danced and had a fantastic time with people we rarely get a chance to visit with because of our busy schedules. Thank you Congressman Kilili Sablan and Dr. Rita A. Sablan, our Commissioner of Education, for your support and the opportunity to send Hope to Standford University for the summer! Thank you Jay Sanchez and Dr. Dave Khorram for your time, kindness and willingness to share in the experience. Thank you to my Honey for always keeping me focused on the “can do” especially when I’m tempted to look at all the barriers that stand in the way.
Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there who truly make time to nurture their children and guide them in the right path. To my daddy, who will always be the first man I ever loved, my hero and my the standard to which I always strive to meet. Thank you for trying to be a mom and a dad and for blessing my life with moms who have each made my life richer. Thank you for never focusing on negatives and for letting me love who I want to love without barriers. Thank you for loving all our children and teaching us that family is more than blood. Thank you for my sisters and brothers who I could never imagine life without and for always being my biggest fan. I love you so much!!
To my Honey: You make the dawn of each new day something I look forward to because you’re in it. You make each evening a soothing and tranquil moment because you are in it. You make everything I do worthwhile because I know you will be always be there to experience it with me. If other men like you exist, they are a rarity and I am eternally grateful that I have the rest of my life to love you. Happy Father’s Day to you my love. Thank you for making our children a priority and for always doing what you can to instill family values no matter how unpredictable things can get. You are an amazing father, I love you!And, finally because you know I’m going to, a recipe for the best brownies in the world! The original recipe can be found here.
1 teaspoon of your favorite instant coffee
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/2 cup(s) all-purpose flour
1/2 cup of unsweetened cocoa
1/4 teaspoon of baking powder
1/4 teaspoon of salt
1 cup of sugar
1/4 cup(s) trans-fat free vegetable oil spread
3 large egg whites
For filling: white chocolate chips, cream cheese frosting or walnuts. Heck, be adventurous and add all three
1. Combine all dry ingredients by sifting them into a medium bowl.
2. Combine all the wet ingredients and slowly mix in the dry ingredients.
3. Pour into a greased glass baking dish and bake for 20 – 25 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. Let cool for about ten minutes or until you can no longer stand it, cut into squares and enjoy!
Today I went boonie stomping, gathered flowers, picked fruit, played cards, cooked alongside my husband, baked a pie with my daughters and savored life.
What usually happens when we rent dvds:
Honey: What do you want to watch, my love?
Me: Anything honey, you choose.
Honey: How about (insert movie name here)?
Me: Sounds good to me.
Fifteen minutes later.
But! This weekend I actually stayed awake for three (count them) three movies! I can read three books at a time. I can even cook three dishes simultaneously, but I’ve never managed to sit through three movies, EVER. Well. . . I almost watched all of them all the way through. That counts, right?
Martha, Marcy, May, Marlene
There’s a reason she can’t decide who she is, it’s because she’s a total wreck THANKS.TO.PATRICK! I couldn’t finish this one, it made me want to take a shower every half hour. It made me want to avoid projecting my anger on people by displacing my anger on inanimate objects instead, like making voodoo dolls. Big life sized, photo enhanced voodoo dolls that I can lay on my driveway.
Favorite quote from the movie
Patrick: I don’t blame you for not trusting people.
LOVED it. Would totally do it, too. Maybe not by foot, maybe if there were a nice air-conditioned van. The weirdest thing about The Way is how Martin Sheen and Emilio Estevez look totally alike. It’s creepy.
Did we forget to tell Charlie that? Buen Camino!
Crazy – Stupid – Love
Ryan Gosling. Oh yeah, the review, right. Ryan Gosling and some other people talking to Ryan Gosling.
Favorite Quote from someone else in the movie that wasn’t Ryan Gosling
Who says that?? Not Ryan Gosling.
- “You don’t choose a life. You live one.” (dameswhodish.wordpress.com)
- Making “The Way” His Way | A Catholic World Report Interview with Emilio Estevez (insightscoop.typepad.com)
- The Cult of Marcy May (mraybould.wordpress.com)
I’m not even gonna lie, I have no love for spiritual abusers even though God tells me to love because He loved me when I was a worthless sack of unbelieving junk. I despise them with an anger that seethes through every burning particle of breath in my being. Everybody else can come to my campfire and sing Kumbaya, but religious hypocrites? I wish they would just disappear. Like “Get your own planet because mine is taken by real humans” disappear. Like “Isn’t there a one-celled organism on the bottom of the Marianas Trench you can go save” disappear.
“So there’s this thing I’ve seen play out all around me, from all of these bruised souls that have accidentally become a part of this sisterhood we shouldn’t have been born into. It’s a sly fox, this condition, and it leaves you licking your lips and asking for more. It’s an addiction in and of itself, because of the adrenaline, and the fucked up neural pathways that formed long ago, and the fact that regardless of the proof, the pudding is what you’ve been told to eat.” ~ Raising Zoeyjane
I spent decades finding God and losing Him, like a toddler forced to dance a drunken waltz. Don’t stand there and judge me, you have no idea. No clue. No right. I know my scripture, raised up my hands until they ached with longing and fear, heard the tongues, twisted them up in my head trying to separate my own wheat from the chaff. I sat on the steps of my faith, afraid to be counted, and afraid to be damned.
It scares me, this uselessness, this inability to prevent or intervene. I can only watch and guide, pray and believe, hope and claim. My fear is like a mother who hands her child the car keys and watches her drive off for the first time. On a scale of one to ten, it’s a twenty. Billion.
I found Him and lost Him, but He never lost me. So this is not about God or my faith. This is about the vomitous rage that regurgitates every time I see a self-fucken-righteous hypocrite take advantage of those who don’t know any better than to believe. Those who have no choice but to depend on them. Those who wrap their hopes around them because they don’t know any better how unsafe they are there. I want to tell these people whom I love everything I’ve learned about spiritual abuse; inject them with the venom of lies long enough that they’ll seize with awakening. I want to tell them not to be a victim and not to be a saviour and that only God can heal and that you should never try to be God and that no man . . . no man is God.
I want to, but I can’t because it isn’t my dance to join. I want to, but I can’t because if they don’t get pinned in the crowd and stumble on their faith and drink the lies that make them choke and squeeze their eyes and swallow hard and trip on disappointment they’ll never get up from the floor and find Him standing there at the back of the room by the exit.
“The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today
Is Christians who acknowledge Jesus with their lips
Then walk out the door and deny him by their lifestyle.
That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.” ~ DC Talk
It sucks, but I can’t dance this one for you. I love you. Remember always, my love, how precious you are. You are precious and beautiful and fearfully and wonderfully made.
- ‘”Time to Stop Arm Wrestling and Start Shaking Hands” (step-on-a-crack.com)
Honey came up with this great idea. I went along with it because he proposed to start. This year he would plan our anniversary and next year it would be my turn. We had a $25 dollar gift limit and a house full of kids. It was our 3rd year together and we’d never had enough time to actually celebrate before. It was just part of parenting, we told ourselves. One day we’d do something big, but for now we were going to do everything we could to enjoy each other. So, at midnight, after the kids had all been in bed, he gave me my roses and we exchanged our gifts. We stayed up late, laughing and talking, watching old videos we’d made, remembering our honeymoon. We were going to sleep in the next day, the kids promised they’d take care of everything. What more could we ask for? Ha ha, we forgot how early two 7 year olds could wake up and how hungry they could get. Sunday morning started with breakfast for 7, followed by lunch for 7 and dinner, (which I prepped during lunch) so we could both take a little two hour nap. I was feeling under the weather; what started off as an upset stomach later revealed itself to be more than just that. As I got ready for our romantic outing I was already feeling nausea, a headache and dizziness. Stomach flu. Then we got to the restaurant.
When Honey he said he’d be in charge of all the plans this year, I assumed we’d get away for dinner and just have some quiet time. I completely underestimated him. We were greeted at the lobby by our waiter and escorted to a private gazebo, where champagne awaited us; the beginning of an amazing evening.
I sat there stunned, listening to how much thought he put into our night. I felt guilty for feeling sick, I can’t believe I actually considered asking him to stay home. He would have though, for me. He would have foregone the entire dinner just to make me feel comfortable, and even though he was the one who put the whole thing together, he thanked me for “toughing it out” so I wouldn’t disappoint him. He listens to me. Everything about our celebration reflected what I’d said in passing conversations, things I didn’t know he caught. Like how he ordered my favorite dessert instead of a cake, and how he knew I wouldn’t want to be surrounded by people after a long week at work. He picked our menu based on what we both liked. He personally saw to it that our surroundings reminded us of Bali, where we exchanged our vows. Sunset, palm trees, the clear calm water flowing from a stream. Just the two of us, for a little while at least. It was perfect.
Love is patient, love is kind.
Like all the times I change my mind right after making up my mind and instead of being furious you pause…to wait for me to say “I’m sure this time.”
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
Like when I complain about people at the intersection asking for handouts and you stop anyway to put money in their jars because if it weren’t for God’s grace it could be us standing at that intersection.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Like when I mess up and say something mean; or I doze off in the middle of a movie; or I say I’ll wash the dishes but don’t and you still kiss my forehead before I fall asleep.
Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.
Like all the times you have every right to defend yourself, but you don’t because you’re better than that. And all the times things that bring you to your knees keep you there…in prayer.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Like when you get bad news in the morning, but you’re still smiling all day. Like when a business venture goes sour and you have a plan B. Like when you say you’ll do something and you really do. Like when you say it’ll be okay and it really is.
Love never fails.
Like when you tell me you’re not perfect, but you love me and for me, that’s as perfect as it gets.