Amy the Mom

Morning Glory

Okay, no, they're not morning glories, they're perennial hibiscus.  I was thrilled to find these in the grocery store parking lot garden center earlier this summer, and I got two for the price of one.  Like morning glories, their blooms are spectacular in the morning, but wilted and faded by evening.  It's hard to believe such a tropical looking flower can survive the bitter cold of Minnesota, but gardening is nothing if not an exercise in optimism.

How to humiliate a teenager

1. Arrive at the theater just ten minutes prior to showtime of The Simpsons Movie on opening night.
2. Snag the last four seats in the theater, right next to "the popular kids" from your teenager's junior high.
3. When one of "the popular kids" greets the teenager with a "Hi Alex," begin to grill your teen with questions like, "Who's that?", "Is that your friend?", "Is that someone you could bring home after school?" and "Where does he live?"
4. Ask your teenager if he wants anything from the snack bar.  Keep asking until he tells you through clenched teeth that he's "not hungry, stop asking. Gawd!"
5. Return to seats after having blown $20 on two medium drinks, a medium popcorn and a "box" of Skittles. 
6. Offer popcorn to teenager until he grudgingly accepts a handful, if only to make you shut up already.
7. Laugh loudly at nearly every scene in the movie, even though the teenager sinks further and further into his seat each time you snort obnoxiously.
8. Ask teenager if he wants some of the Sprite from the cup that you're holding.  When he replies affirmatively, watch as the quart sized "medium" beverage begins to slip from your grasp, and as you tighten your grip realize the pop is being displaced and is now forming a sugary tidal wave that will land in the lap of your teenager and the girl in front of him.
9. Whisper loudly to your tweens that you need ALL of the napkins NOW.
10. Attempt to blot the offending liquid from your son's CROTCH, all the while apologizing loudly to him and the girl in front of him. 
11. Keep mouthing "I'm sorry" to him for the next hour and make the "sorry face" with a trembling lower lip so that he understands that you understand how embarrassed he is.  Stop only when he shoots death rays at you with his eyes.
12. Once the movie is over and he announces that "We need to leave NOW!", ask him if he minds staying for the credits, because you're sure you'll miss something funny if you leave too soon.  Again, dodge death rays and sheepishly agree that it's time to go.  We'll wait for the DVD, heh heh.
13. Once you're in the parking lot, wince as he tells you that not only were the most popular kids at school next to him, but behind him and in front of him as well-including  (of course) the girl who got the worst of the Sprite in her hair.  S.H.I.T.
14. Offer to throw yourself under the wheels of your SUV as the ultimate act of contrition. 

Silver Lake

Shortly after Steve and I began to date, he took me to his cabin.  He told me how much he loved it up there, and wanted me to see it and let him know what I thought.  I believe it was actually a personality litmus test he was subjecting me to, determining if we were a real match.  If I had turned up my nose at his rustic abode, I suspect I may not have made the final cut.

The winter of 2004 was bitter cold and the snowfall had been significant.  I hopped into his huge 4x4 pickup, and we lit off for Northwest Wisconsin.  The cabin is about an hour and a half north from our current home and sits behind cornfields.  You come around the bend of a rough and bumpy dirt road and you're greeted by 100 year old pines and massive oaks and birches.  The cabin sits at the bottom of a steep hill, and looks out over a 60 acre spring fed lake.   

When I first gazed upon it, the lake was buried under snow and two feet of ice.  But walking out onto the deck of the cabin, I recognized it as a place I had long dreamed of-literally.  From the time I was a young girl, I had a recurring dream of a cabin where you could look off the deck into clear water and see the fish swimming below.  Mind you, I had never been to a cabin, but this dream was vivid and real. 

Steve stood beside me and told me that in the warmer months the water was crystal clear because the lake was spring fed and had a sandy bottom and an abundance of fish.  He asked me what I was thinking, and I told him I thought this was a very special place.  The wind blew through the pines, and if you've never heard whispering pines, you're missing something special.  It's probably one of the most soothing sounds on earth, the lullaby that rocks songbirds to sleep.

By the time we returned in the spring, Steve and I had decided we would spend the rest of our lives together.  I walked out onto the deck and looked at the lake below.  There were bass, and sunnies and schools of minnows, all visible in the clear water not far from the deck footings.  It was just like my dream.  I was in love with Steve and his peaceful up north getaway.

At sunset, the loons begin their haunting calls.  The stars that are evasive in the city skies are vivid and brilliant over the cabin.  It's impossible to capture so much that is wonderful about Silver Lake, but I think the sunsets say it all.  Spectacular doesn't begin to describe their beauty... 

   

And they call it...puppy love

Fresh Brewed Iced Tea

I despise bottled iced tea, or the fountain drink that most restaurants serve.  When I ask a server if the eatery serves fresh iced tea and they bring me Brisk, I'm tempted to throw it in their face.  I don't want that sugar laden crap.  It couldn't be easier to make, and it's really not that time consuming either.  I did have some luck with Mr. Coffee's Iced Tea Maker some years ago, but for some reason, it didn't work as well with the hard water we have in the Twin Cities.  The downside to that is that you better have a mighty powerful ice maker in your fridge, because you'll need it if you make more than a couple pitchers a day-which I do. 

Growing up, we always had fresh iced tea on hand, and we drank it by the gallon out of plastic Rubbermaid mugs.  When my mom wanted a refill, she would shake her glass with the long slender spoon in it, causing this annoying cacophony of ice, plastic and metal.  The daughter closest to her in proximity would have to fetch more. 

I've tried many types of tea bags, from generic to pricey imports, but I keep coming back to Lipton.  I don't like decaf, but if that's necessary for you, theirs is as good as anyone else's.  I use 5 tea bags-and this works if you're using the automatic maker as well-and place them in a small pan with 4 cups of ice cold water.  I bring it to a boil over medium heat, and once it's done boiling I let it steep and cool for an additional ten minutes.  I then fill a 3 quart pitcher about 1/3 of the way with ice cubes, then pour the tea over the top-don't discard the tea bags yet, though.  I run cold water over the tea bags in the pan, and fill the pitcher with that water.  I like my tea (and my coffee) strong and dark (like my men, har de har).  This makes a nice dark amber hued tea, if you like yours weaker, just add clear water after pouring the tea over the ice, and you could even back off one of the bags.   

Prepare a tall glass by filling it halfway with ice.  Add 1-2 packets of Sweet n Low sweetener right over the ice.  To me, Sweet n Low is the best choice for iced tea-it dissolves easier than sugar or any of it's artificial competitors and and it doesn't have any aftertaste.  I go back and forth over lemons and limes, it really depends on my mood and what I'm serving, but a fresh wedge of one is a must.  Squeeze that over the ice and sweetener.  Add the fresh tea, and also, a sprig of fresh mint.  You really should grow your own during the warmer months.  You can't kill it, but you should keep it in a pot, otherwise it will overtake your garden.  To my mind, the best variety is Kentucky Colonel.   It's sweet and has big thick leaves that release an abundance of flavor when crushed with a spoon and ice.

Keep a pitcher on hand all summer.  Even guests who have sworn to me that they don't like iced tea love this beverage.  If you enjoy an Arnold Palmer, simply use half lemonade and half tea.  And if you don't know what an Arnold Palmer is, don't feel bad-neither did I until I moved to Minnesota.  I finally mustered the courage to ask when I was at a business lunch with a friend.  It's simply fresh iced tea and lemonade, which Mr. Palmer supposedly invented.  I "invented" it myself when I was ten and had no idea who in the world Arnie Palmer was, it just seemed a logical combination.   Whatever, some old golfer gets all the credit.   

If you want the best "Arnie Palmer" I can't help, I haven't mastered it yet.  So, go to Starbucks and order a Venti Black Shaken Iced Tea with Lemonade with two packets of Sweet n Lo.  My dear Aunt Gwennie used to make iced tea that tasted exactly like this, and sadly, that recipe died with her.  It was bliss.  Once I find a tart lemonade that matches the Starbucks brand, I'll post it here, because it makes the drink. 

Beef Sirloin Kabobs

Growing up, this was standard summer fare at my parent's home.  This was the dish we'd roll out for company during summer months.  My sisters and I snagged more than one boyfriend with this meal-we had them wrapped around our pinkies after they licked their plates clean.  Best of all, there's really no cooking prowess involved, other than marinating meat, threading it on skewers and grilling it.  As simple as it is, though, it's a real crowd pleaser. 

The secret is the marinade.   Adolph's Meat Marinade is all you use.  Well, that and some cold water-just follow the packet instructions.  Simply cut a boneless sirloin steak into large cubes (about a half pound per person), poke them with a fork on two sides, and marinate for at least 15 minutes, but not more than an hour.  The other secret is mushrooms.  If you don't like mushrooms, that's fine, omit them and use your favorite kabob vegetables like zucchini, red pepper, Vidalia onion, etc.   I like to use the medium white mushrooms, remove the stems and marinate them with the steak.  They turn out so tender and flavorful after bathing with the sirloin, they're irresistible.  I've had guests fight over the 'shrooms, folks.  No lie.  Cook the steak to the degree of doneness you prefer.  I might even baste the meat with the leftover marinade.  I know, I know, e coli, health risks, scary, scary.  But, I haven't lost anyone yet and I make these a LOT. 

Serve this on a bed of long grain and wild rice with the veggies on the side and you've got a pretty easy meal that will have your guests thinking you slaved over a hot grill all day.  Let them think that.  You can even enhance that belief by misting yourself with water and dramatically wiping your brow while you turn the skewers effortlessly.  What?  It just makes your guests feel extra special that you'd go to all that work for little old them.  Milk it, honey, milk it. 

For desert, go with a peach or berry cobbler.  Why yes, a little homemade vanilla ice cream would be scrumptious with that!  Let me tell you, if you roll out the homemade ice cream after those kabobs, your guests might hoist you upon their shoulders and parade you around the patio for the bounty you have laid out before them-or they'll at least do the dishes, which to my way of thinking is the most wonderful gesture there is.  Oh, I'll protest halfheartedly, but I love the guest who already has their sleeves rolled up and gives me the "talk to the hand" gesture as they're filling the sink with suds.    

The luckiest day of the century?

So, I cobbled together this wedding over the course of the previous week, making sure that it remained stress free and didn't interfere with the busy work schedules of either the bride or the groom.  By Saturday morning, the only concern I had was obtaining the rings...well, I knew Steve's would be easy, but I didn't think I could locate one that would coordinate with my engagement ring's unique setting. I decided that I would have one custom made at a later date. 

Once again though, I discovered that procrastination sometimes results in super deals and serendipitous results. I found a perfect band, on clearance, IN MY SIZE within minutes of our search.  Steve and I were in and out of the mall in less than half an hour.  Sweeeet. 

I'd ordered my dress from Coldwater Creek on Thursday, and wonderful people that they are, that frock was on my porch by the time we got back from the mall.  It fit perfectly, and was the best choice for a scorching summer day.  Another score!

The rest of the afternoon went off without a hitch.  Steve's courier service was kind enough to comp us a limousine for the evening, and Scott the chauffeur delivered us promptly to the church. The ceremony was exactly what I wanted.  Mark did a beautiful job writing simple and meaningful vows that echoed what was in our hearts.  More than a few tears were shed by both of us, and we stopped to embrace a couple times during the service.

After the service, Scott got the limousine cooled down and we all piled in and toasted with champagne.  I had provided sparkling juice for the kids, but Alex took a sip of the hard stuff and declared that it tasted like he threw up in his mouth.  Drew asked if we could pick up his girlfriend so we pointed the driver in her direction...and here is where the only glitch of the day happened.

After retrieving Leeanna, I asked Scott if he could drive around the Lakes area of Minneapolis.  For those of you unfamiliar with the Twin Cities, there is an area south of downtown Minneapolis with several large lakes, public gardens and beautiful (and pricey) architecture.  In my cartoon bubble, there would be some photo opportunities for us there.  We were about a block away from the Lake Harriet Bandshell, when Scott opened the little divider and said the limo seemed to be having problems and he thought he should turn off the air conditioning.  I was sitting directly behind him, and when I turned around to ask him if we should pull over, I saw smoke pouring in through the vents. 

I pointed this problem out to him and he replied, "Oh no. You're right."  I didn't think he sounded sufficiently terrified, but I'm not up to speed on car issues.  Whenever I've had auto trouble, I've taken my vehicle to the repair shop and tried to self diagnose.  "I think it's the alternator," or "I believe a belt is loose," or "Maybe the water pump?"  It's never any of those things, and I'm sure every mechanic who has listened to my layman's predictions has returned to the garage and mocked me ferociously.  Steve and Chris however, do know their cars.  They ordered everyone out of the vehicle and we all retreated to nearby picnic tables which, mercifully, were located in total shade.

 

The boys all rushed to the woods, and relieved themselves.  Steve and Chris leaned over the motor and declared that it was simply overheating because of the outside temperatures, the weight of the cargo and the slow speeds we were forced to drive around the lakes.  I shrugged it off-what the hell else could I do?  The limo was free, so bitching about that would be the height of rudeness.  The heat wasn't so bad in the shade, so we just sat and talked and watched the roller bladers and pedestrians. 

After a half hour, Chris and Steve decided we could drive to Bobby & Steve's Auto World, which has mechanics on duty pretty much all the time.  We didn't make it there before the gauges began to go wonky and we had to stop at another gas station, this one in the Morningside neighborhood.  Another half hour of waiting, waiting, waiting.  At this point, Mario was starting to devolop heatstroke, and was fixing me with his very intense "I better get my way right now or I'm going to have a meltdown" look.  He was also reminding me every five seconds that "I told you we should go right home after the ceremony."  I was beginning to lose my shit on my wedding day. 

Again, we decide to attempt to reach Bobby and Steve's.  Blessedly, we make it, and everyone makes a dash for the air conditioned comfort of a 24 hour gas station/cafe.  Steve begins to buy the kids all the junk food that I consistently scratch off the refrigerator shopping list.  Mario (who has now been revived with Arizona Iced Tea) has an armful of beef jerky, Drew is loading up on Red Bull and Cheetos, and Alex and Annelise have handfuls of candy bars.  It's determined that we'll be here for at least an hour so Madeline orders up some broasted chicken for all of us.

So, only hours after exchanging wedding vows, Steve is cracking jokes about how this is the Groom's Dinner and I'm eating buffalo chicken fingers because I realize it's the first solid food I've had all day.  After an hour and a half, we are able to return home in the limosuine sans air conditioning.  It was a steamy, but blessedly short ride.   

Regrettably, the other wedding pictures did not turn out very well.  Scott the limo driver was handling my camera, which he switched to movie mode for some reason.  So, every shot of us taking our vows is a dark and blurry mess, because of course the flash doesn't work in movie mode.  Once we were done, I righted the camera, but then Madeline's camera flash was going off at the same time and we all have these silver orbs where our eyes should be. 

Seriously, this was the best picture of the lot...and that's not saying much.  At least you can tell we're happy.   

Also, I have got to lose some weight.  My God.  My bathroom mirror must be like the funhouse variety where you look taller and slimmer.  I mean, I know I've put on weight, but when I look at myself with clothes (and spandex support garments) on, I think I hide the girth pretty well.  Apparently not!   

 

Bershon from old Polaroids

Before I wrap up the wedding story, I'd like to take you on a walk down memory lane...

I recovered a scrapbook from my preteen years.  My kids could not stop rolling on the floor in total hysterics at the pictures of me in my youth.  "That CAN'T be you mom, it just can't!"  Because, just like I thought when I was their age, my children believe that I've always been this old. 

Let me indulge you in some trivia:

• I think you can pick me out of this photo, the middle girl is my sister, Jenny.  Betsy is my youngest sister.
• The picture was taken on my parent's front porch, prior to my cousin Holly's wedding.
• The dress I'm wearing was exactly like one my friend Beth had (she comments on this site as "Redhead".  I coveted it, and begged my mom to purchase one for me at Higbee's.  I loved that dress.  It was terrycloth.  I'm now embarrassed by it.  It looks like I hemmed a couple of bath towels together and cinched the waist.
• I believe I was 11 in this picture-12 at the oldest.  I stuffed my bra that day with cotton balls.  Aesthetically, I think I did a pretty good job.  Ironically, mere months later I found that I had become one of the most well endowed girls in my class. 
• Love the unibrow.

This is me sleeping, I believe my parents captured this on Christmas Eve.  I think I'm 11 here, also.

• Yes, that was a Bee Gees poster behind me. Thirty square feet of Brothers Gibb.  Their sibling Andy Gibb adorned the opposite wall.  I'm pretty sure I also had one of those kitten posters that said "Hangin' in there" somewhere in the room as well.
• On the bedpost is a gingham check sun visor and a baseball mitt.  The mitt was my dad's, I never played any organized baseball growing up.

I'm 12 here, it's obviously Christmas morning. (translation of the apron: You can complain because rosebushes have thorns, or you can be grateful because thorn bushes have roses. Wow.  That Ziggy was pretty profound.)   

• I still make that face ALL THE TIME.  It's my taaaa-daaaa! face. 
• That was my first apron, and I suppose my mom's hint that "It's high time you took over the domestic responsibilities in this house, young lady."
• How about those booties?  I already had comically large feet by this point, and was wearing a size 10 shoe.  Thankfully, my feet never got any bigger.

This is a photo taken after my return from Camp Whitewood.  I'm tickled that it's still around and hasn't been turned into a suburban enclave. 

• As I review these pictures, one thought keeps recurring, "What the hell happened to my chin?  When did that nice jawline disappear?"
• Betsy and I are proudly displaying the rock art and ceramic creations that I produced.  I kind of wish I still had the rock frog, I did a pretty good job on that. 
• I was in the domestic division of 4H.  We focused on sewing and cooking skills. 
• Camp Whitewood lasted a week.  I went with my best friend, Heather.  I cried on the bus for the first hour because I'd never been away from home that long.  I was an incredibly picky eater, and was mostly terrified that I'd starve. 
• I didn't starve and I loved it.  I returned the following year.
• I believe I snuck that jaunty bandanna and cowboy hat out of the house without my dad's knowledge.  They both belonged to him, as he and my mom were entrenched in their square dancing phase at that point.
• Nice mom jeans.

 

Oh, bravo, Amy, bravo.  The ultimate bershon.  This was my sister Jenny's birthday party, and I turned 13 mere days after this photo was taken. 

• I was absolutely put out that I couldn't be at the Massillon Tiger football game and had to hang around with 11 year olds. 
• Once again, the Tiger jersey I'm wearing?  Cribbed from my dad.  Why was I constantly stealing from my dad's wardrobe?  I'm going to have to bring this up with my therapist next week.
• I created that hair ornament with my own little hands.  Orange and black yarn and a Goody barrette. 
• Betsy was attempting a Bershon, but she was just 9, and only manages to look a little bored. 

At Last....

To all our friends and family,

While this may seem anticlimactic, Steve and I finally wed on July 7, 2007 at 5:30 in the evening.  After three and a half years together, we didn't want any excessive pageantry, or the guilt of whittling through a guest list and excluding anyone who is special to us.  Even though we planned to marry sometime this year, this was a spur of the moment decision made during late night pillow talk.  I spent less than a week putting things together.   

We were joined by our children, Drew, Alex, Mario and Annelise.  Steve's mother, Madeline, and brother Chris also looked on.  Mark Bellows, pastor of Hope Community Church and a friend of mine, performed the ceremony.

For those of you who didn't know, Steve and I met on the Internet, and our first meeting was a blind date.  Steve had made up his mind that we were meant to be upon conclusion of that initial date; I needed another before I was convinced.    

From the beginning, Steve has not only accepted my children, but loved them as if they were his own.  For that alone he has my undying devotion.  Not only did Steve embrace my litter, but so did Drew, which I think is miraculous, given that he was 13 at the time, and there were three of them to potentially annoy him and disrupt his life.  My kids took immediately to their "big brother" and there's never been any friction between them.  Since my trio doesn't have any grandparents within 850 miles, Madeline has filled that role admirably from the first day she met them.  Chris has done a great job as the "cool and fun" uncle.   

I find it difficult avoiding cloying sentimentality when trying to describe what Steve means to me.  The years following my divorce were rife with sadness, loneliness and an absolute deficit of anything resembling self esteem.  Once I met Steve, he brought joy into my life again, he needed me as much as I needed him, he helped nurture my soul and showed me all that I had to offer.  I discovered the person I always wanted to be, buried deep beneath the debris of my battered heart.  The person I was four years ago is virtually unrecognizable to me today. 

I don't think I understood the true meaning of love until I met Steve.  He's the hardest working man I have ever known, he's brilliant and talented and yet humble and unassuming.  He has shown me what unconditional devotion is, he always has my back and he has given me the family centered life that I always wanted.  I think one of his biggest accomplishments though, was managing to stop me from taking myself so damn seriously all the time.  He's halved my wrinkle potential by pointing out my tendency to furrow my brow in irritation and to get me to just lighten up already.

I'll post pictures and details later this evening, but here's a few to tide you over.

And introducing Mr. and Mrs. Steve Harrison and family!  This picture was taken shortly after the minister started to introduce us as "Steamy Harrison"...a Freudian slip if ever there was one.  The temperature nearly reached 100 today and Steve was absolutely drenched.  It also led to some trouble later...

          

      

4th of July Brownies

When asked to bring a dish to any summer time picnic or potluck, I usually go with my old standby, Beacon Hill Brownies.  When I was a teenager, I tried this recipe that was on the inside of Baker's chocolate squares.  No one ever brought another package of instant brownie mix into the house again.  You would expect brownies with half a pound of butter and three cups of sugar to taste good, and you'd be right.  These are the most fudgie, dense, wonderful brownies ever.  You absolutely must follow the recipe exactly, or go buy one of those boring dry mixes...loser.

Beacon Hill Brownies

8 oz unsweetened chocolate squares
1 C butter (2 sticks)
5 eggs
3 C sugar
1 TBSP vanilla
1 1/2 C flour
2 C walnuts (TOTALLY optional.  Personally, I'm against nuts in brownies)

Preheat oven to 375.  Melt chocolate squares and butter over a double boiler or in a microwave on LOW power stirring at two minute intervals.  Be careful with your chocolate, if it seizes-that's where it forms tight clumps that can't be broken down-you're screwed.  You'll need to start all over again with new chocolate.  Once that mixture is melted, set it aside and let it cool slightly.  The next process takes ten minutes, so it gives the chocolate the perfect amount of time to cool.

Mix the eggs, sugar and vanilla on HIGH speed for ten minutes, scraping down the sides only a couple times.  You really must have a stand mixer for this step, if you're dealing with a hand mixer this will be a workout.  You won't be having any meaningful conversations during this ten minutes, thanks to the whine of that machine.  Don't approve any garbled requests from family members, you'll end up promising to purchase a car for your eleven year old or something else regrettable. 

When the ten minutes is up, do one last scrape down of the bowl sides then add the chocolate mixture on low speed.  Add the flour until just blended.  If you're adding nuts, fold them in now.  Spread mixture into a greased 13x9 pan.  Bake for approximately 30 minutes, but start checking at 25 minutes by inserting a toothpick into the center.  If it comes out clean, it's done.  Don't over bake these brownies! 

You don't have to do this next step, but it will insure perfect brownies.  I am a gadget freak, so I have every conceivable tool in my kitchen for any procedure called for in a recipe.  People, I own a truffle shaver.  Guess how many times I've used that device?   NONE.  But you never know when someone's going to unload a pile of white truffles on my counter, and I want to be ready when that happens. 

Where was I?  Oh!  Gadgets.  If you make cakes and brownies, you really should get some Magi-Cake Strips.  This is what the package looks like, it's not a standout marketing effort.  But, if you want perfect baked goods, you must have them.  You soak the strips in cold water and wrap them around your baking pan.  The result is level and evenly cooked cakes.

Back to the brownies...they are best enjoyed with an ice cold glass of milk.