hypothetical letter from a blog reader

Dear Jenna,

What the heck? Where have you been? For the first week, I thought you must have had a carbon monoxide leak in your home or something. But, then I saw that you're still out there commenting on blogs. So, you're alive, but you're not blogging? C'mon?!

What have you been doing??? I mean, in this time, you haven't even had a bloggable conversation with Miles and Avery? What about a picture? No?

What kind of mother doesn't even have some good blog-worthy pictures?

Whatever you do, please, please, please, do not make me look at the word "mousecapades" ever again. That's just rude. No. It's more than rude. It's a form of torture.

If you ever, EVER, want me to enjoy your blog again, you're going to actually write something interesting. Or, give me a link. I could take a link. It's gone that far. Just link me to something funny or provocative or inspiring.

No pressure.

With deep concern for your floundering blog,

A. Blog Reader

mousecapades

So, this was a bad winter for mice apparently. We had some? one? a colony?

They were absolutely driving me mad. We tried the freakishly scary snap traps. Snap traps are just as scary as having to cut the blue (or was it RED???...no...maybe it's the YELLOW???) wire to dismantle a bomb. You hold your breath, say a prayer and slowly as possible release the lever. It either ends in a "phew" or a yelp.

We tried the sticky traps. They collected dust and the random food that Miles tossed on them to attract the mice.

Oh. And, by the way, we did put peanut butter on the snap traps. I did NOT put a wedge of swiss cheese on there. I know better.

I tried "spin traps". And also an "easier" snap trap that you pinch like a clothes pin, but it doesn't snap except when it catches a mouse (which is NEVER). I also used a "sure-fire" mouse attractant which supposedly works better than peanut butter. It didn't.

But, despite all these traps around the house, the deposits of mouse poop kept coming.

So, I got out my trusty laptop and Googled "homemade mouse traps". One site suggested this homemade trap which included a bucket of water and a plank-like tipping thing. If only I had a five gallon bucket and 15 hours to make it.

But, it probably wouldn't have caught a mouse anyway.

We even saw that mouse on several occasions.

Probably the most memorable mouse moment was when our dear Makoto still lived with us.
I remember it like it was yesterday....

She was in the dining room studying quietly. The children were long in bed. And I finally found my way to my room, snuggled in, turned off the lamp and--DANG IT--I heard something maneuvering its way through the register! CREEPED. ME. OUT.

I whispered frantically, "BRENT! It's in our room! The MOUSE. I heard it!"

Faster than you can say "squeak", I jumped up, turned on the lamp, threw a pillow to block the crack under the door. Brent covered both vents with Calvin's Institutes (they have been used more as props than anything over the years). Oh, we were making a ruckus. I was squealing and shouting "Brent! Over there!" We were jumping on our bed to scare the mouse out from under it. The bed is on casters, so I started pushing off the wall to move it. We made some unusual noises.

oh. Did I mention that all Makoto knew was that we just went to bed? She had to be a little unnerved wondering...

Finally, I eked out, "Makoto!" "Makoto!"

no response.

Again, but just above a whisper calmly, "Makoto?"

"Yes?" she answered timidly.

"The mouse is in our room. We need something to trap it." I had resumed my frantic whisper.

Now, this got confusing, because even though she'd lived in our home for two months, she couldn't quite figure out where we kept a plastic bowl. So, I had to exit to fetch something to trap it with while Brent stayed on guard.

Now, I know you can't really trap a mouse with your bare hands and a bowl. But, how were we going to sleep that night knowing it was there. (And WHY? What was in there to attract it???)
Anyway, friends. We got tired. I got to the point where I could imagine the mouse crawling on our bed without feeling an adrenaline rush. Eventually I fell asleep.

But one day, I set this up (like a 9-yr-old).




I know. You're jealous of my engineering skills. Drool on.




The next morning, I caught this:




I know. Good thing I didn't mix any D-CON in with those Cheerios.



Epilogue:
About a month later, I went upstairs and found a dying mouse shivering on the carpet. Even though it was barely moving in place, I was pretty freaked out and shaky. Brent transported it outdoors and that was the short and happy life of that mouse. So, it died of old age or D-CON. Not sure which. Doesn't matter. It's gone. But, I'm sure I'll see its cousins next winter.

andie was right.

In the comments of the last post, Andie rightly guessed that I'm an ENFP. Here's the link to take a brief myers-briggsish test.



Now, go get yourself tested!!!

are you so relieved??

(that I finally turned OFF the autostart on my playlist?)

and in other news...

my favorite outfit. wish it came in my size. thank you, makoto!!!

let your light shine...

Have you ever done some random act of kindness and, when thanked, wanted to give God the glory verbally, but refrained because it would sound too contrived? Or held your tongue, because it might give the impression that God needs people to work to gain him glory?

Is it a cop out to just do the deeds and pray that God would receive the glory that is rightfully his?

...let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.

ebony and ivory

That's what I sang to Jillian as I made these cookies this morning. Except, I changed the lyrics to...

E-bon-y and I-vor-y
That's the way that a coo-kie ought to be....

Here's the recipe for Chocolate White Chocolate Chip Cookies

1 c. butter
2 c. sugar
2 eggs
2 tsp. vanilla

mix these together in a large bowl.

2 c. flour
3/4 c. cocoa powder
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt

blend these together in a medium bowl and gradually mix into butter mixture.

Lastly, and super importantly, stir in a bag of white chocolate chips.

Bake at 350 for 8-10 minutes. Cool on baking sheet for five minutes before transferring to wire rack to cool completely (if you can wait that long before you completely devour them, washing them down with ice cold milk).

And for you listening and viewing pleasure, the original...




Am I the only one who sung songs like this in my elementary music class??

good toilet reading?

Jillian peruses CJ Mahaney's Cross-Centered Life.

a friend's review of Granny Donuts

Lee left this comment this morning. (I'm linking you to his profile, since he writes on a few blogs.) He totally cracks me up. And he knows a good fritter when he tastes one.

So, now you don't have to just take my word on it...

"I patronized Granny Donuts this morning. When I walked in, I was greeted with a hearty "Good morning!" The guy behind the counter then asked, "Are you usually in this early?"

Wow! I thought. Does he read my blogs? Is he on Facebook? How does he know who I am? Then, of course, it dawned on me that I must remind him of someone else. "This is my first time here," I replied. (I almost blurted out, "Jenna sent me!" but I'm not a name-dropper, so I refrained.) "I was just on my way to work and thought I'd stop by."

A quizzical look crossed his face. He smirked and pointed to the "22 continuous years" sign on the wall. I chuckled nervously, and he reassured me, saying, "That's OK."

I ordered an apple fritter and a cup of coffee. The downside is that the coffee isn't anything to write home about. It certainly wasn't the worst -- I mean, it wasn't church potluck bad, just not great.

The fritter, on the other hand, was probably the best I've ever tasted. Crispy and sweet on the outside, soft and rich on the inside. Just the way apple fritters are supposed to be.

So, in summation, I give Granny Donuts two sticky thumbs up. Sure, the coffee isn't the best, but it isn't bad with a sweet lump of fried dough.

If, however, you insist on complementing your doughnuts with really good coffee, I'd suggest swinging by the Starbucks drive-through at the corner of Robert and Thompson, about a half-block north. But I refuse to be held responsible for what happens if you walk in with that Starbucks cup."

the pursuit of doughnuts

It was one of my first questions to my realtor: "Where can you find the best doughnuts in town?" I've been asking around for three years. We left The Donut Palace in St. Louis, MO with the confidence that amazing "Mom and Pop" doughnut places are everywhere, especially in a big city! But, no. After a few years, I asked Molly who gave me the sad news that she had already been on this quest and that "you can't find a decent donut in the Twin Cities".

The seemingly futile search came to an unexpected and delightful end a few weeks ago, when the boys and I stumbled upon Granny Donuts in West Saint Paul. (yes, Granny, as in not possessive). Once we walked in, we knew it was the place. Bear claws, Bowties, Bavarian Cremes, Raised, Cake, Apple Fritters and more beckoned us with their sugary deep-fried promises of earthly satisfaction. (And, yes, I shared this good news with Molly already!)

So, if you find yourself in the Twin Cities and hankering for doughnuts, get your bad self to Granny.

miles adds to the bible and sums up his bro in one convo

Miles: Mommy! Listen to my new "Bible" verse I just made up.
Me: Ha! You want me to put that on your blog?**
Miles: Yeah.
Avery (under his breath): I wouldn't do that, Miles...
Miles: That's because you are are a "keep it in" not a "let it out".



**Don't worry, I'm not letting my kid think he's divinely inspired, or anything.