Born To Run

I followed Ron (in my car, are ya kiddin' me??) on his run last Monday. He's going to run the Sound to Narrows again this year, so he wanted to do the course again...a refresher course, of course...C'mon, that made you smile a little bit, right? I do not understand what runners get out of running. I mean, yer talkin' to the girl who took a psychology class to get a needed P.E. credit her Senior year! I'll admit though, that I enjoyed observing his perfect form as I trailed behind him. The morning sunlight cast just enough shadow to beautifully define his calf muscles. The definition would disappear then reappear with each step, placing his landing foot directly under his body. His stride was even and rhythmic and he unknowingly kept time to the beat of Mindy Gledhill's Feather in the Wind, that was playing in my car. We leapfrogged part of the way. He would run ahead and I'd stay behind a bit, watching him. Then I'd drive ahead and park and wait for him to throw in, through the back window, the pungent article of clothing he'd removed as his body temperature acclimated to its environment. Occasionally he'd stop for a quick swig of Gatorade, then be off again. Between miles six and seven is the steepest part of the course, uphill. I fully expected him to slow down or stop or gag and throw up but he kept moving. I drove on past about two blocks and parked half way up the hill. I wanted to see the expression on his face when he was running up the Mt. Everest of the course. Determined was his look, but he had a smile for me just the same. "This is the worst part right here", he said, pointing to the road. Even the Honda was reacting to the gravitational pull of that hill. I'm happy to be his "support team", but I swear I'll never "get" it.

A couple posts ago I had the flag I made out of an old fence. We got it hung up and there was a gigantor space between the top of the flag and the ceiling. So I made this sign using all the scraps (literally) I could find around my art room and the garage.

I bought these alphabet wall stickers (for my grand kids to use) at Dollar Tree. They are what I spelled "America" with.

I used my Cricut machine to cut "the beautiful", but I didn't have any vinyl (grr) so I found a roll of contact shelf paper in my closet and fed it through the machine. Worked like a charm!

I painted the scrap board white, then adhered the stickers, then painted the board black, then I pulled the stickers off very carefully using a straight pin. It's not exactly one of those cool subway signs, but it works....Oh, and the white boarder is done with detailing tape. At least I think that's what it is. I found it in my "adhesive's" drawer, and I can't figure out what else it could be, so that's what I'm calling it. :)

The other night I was in the mood for some ice cream with really good carmel sauce. I found a recipe on pinterest that had a bajillion pins on it, and it didn't look complicated at all. So I made sure I had Heavy Whipping Cream and all the other ingredients, and set out to make it. It called for lots of stirring time. Like 25 minutes worth. Well we were skyping with one of our kids, so Ron and I took turns stirring and visiting. It wasn't getting very "golden brown" looking, but I figured it eventually would. And it took forever to thicken up...but the recipe did say it required time...we kinda lost track of time because of our skyping, and before we knew it we had... dust. Yeah you heard me. Like instantaniously, our "carmel sauce" had turned to dry, sweet, dust. What the hay?? It was the weirdest thing I've ever ever done in the kitchen! The likes of which Alton Brown or Bill Nye the Science guy have never seen! Determined to have my sweet tooth satisfied, I switched gears from carmel sauce to fudge sauce. This recipe is from Dorie Greenspan, off of Pinterest, and it is not only delish (like, forget the ice cream-I'll just have a dish of this stuff, delish), it is super easy too.

Getting a little jump on summer decorating

The awesomest man in the world is married to the luckiest girl in the world. Our neighbors were getting new fencing all the way down the back of their subdivision,(wonder how much their HOA fees went up this year), which backs up to the road we drive on everyday. Me, being the junk hound that I am, and my hubby, being the best partner-in-crime ever, took the 'burb' down and loaded up a few sections of what they were tearing out. Ron is so good to be the "Dean" to my "Jerry", the "brawn" to my "brain" (HA!), the "meat" to my "potatoes"...Wait. What?? I couldn't do some of the silly things I get to do, if I didn't have such a supportive, "sure we can do that!", kind of husband. I sure love him. He helped me turn this fence from this:

... ...

To this. Though he wasn't too sure when I asked him to hang it for me, inside the house, he went along with the task & I think he kinda likes it.

The color green, in all its many hues, tints and shades is my favorite of all the colors in the rainbow. My love affair with this luxuriant pigment, may have stemmed from the time Christine Emery's mother took us to the Dole Pineapple factory and let us pick out a little treasure to take home with us. We were six, and Christine was mean, bossy, "assertive" by nurture, and she chose name tags for both of us...not really what I would have chosen, but I learned at an early age not to look a gift name tag in the mouth..err whatever. Christine's name tag was red and my name tag was green...and did you get the part where I said they were NAME tags? Well, Christine decided she wanted the green one and I should have the red one. Now I'm no rocket scientist, but shouldn't I have the one that says Kathy, seeing as though that's my name?? I remember looking at her mother thinking, aren't you going to intervene here? When Mrs. Emery figured out what little Miss Bossy Pants was up to, she made Christine give me the green name tag that read "Kathy", and that tipped Christine's apple cart...or should I say pineapple cart...such weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth the likes of which Polynesians hadn't witnessed previously or since. Having won that little victory may have been what started my prodigious liking for the color green. Isn't it weird that I would remember that story? The End.

Friends are the chocolate chips in the cookie of life

I've blogged about my insanely uber-talented friend, Becki. Last weekend we had our pre-ward conference adult dinner/social. She was asked to be in charge of it this year. I know what a monumental (heavy on the mental) task it is because Ron and I did it last year. Becky enlisted her husband and kids (she has such a great family) to do everything from soup to nuts. The dinner was fantastic (pasta, warm bread sticks, "Olive Garden" salad, all kinds of desserts), and they even put together an Italian soda bar. They just did an awesome job. My assignment was to set the tables, and Ron got some guys together to do a guitar sing along, to Kermit the Frog's "Rainbow Connection". I know it sounds corny, but it was actually a really fun, sweet song to sing. So, the Blackners do all this work (Becki pulled it together even though she was sick). Then tonight, what gets delivered to my front porch? Warm, fresh baked chocolate chip cookies! Not only Yumm to the "O!", but look how CUTE they look! And wait. She's thanking ME?? That girl! She doesn't do anything if it's not beautiful! ...and I'm the lucky recipient of her talent and generosity! 'Scuse me while I go pour a big glass of milk!