Do This More Often

Last night I did something really crazy: I invited a few of my favorite friends for dinner. My husband was overnighting it with the Scouts, tomatoes and basil were "on", and we girls had things piling up that needed to be talked about. Miracle of miracles, schedules cleared and at 7:00 we sat down at my dining room table, looked at each other increduously, and I, for one, started giggling inside.

As we passed bowls of salad and spaghetti Pomodoro, and ice-cold Izzes, we started catching up on a blossoming cupcake business, back-to-school supply deals, high school soccer try-outs, family vacations, and youth symphony. Dipping our garlic Pugliese led to dipping into deeper topics: family challenges, teenagers, where we each would like to be in a few years' time, and dream jobs. We soon side-stepped the deeper topics to share some of our most embarrassing moments EVER. This had me confessing aloud, hands pressed to my cheeks, while my friends roared.

After Natalie's homemade blueberry compote over vanilla ice cream, we watched the pre-recorded Brian Williams' Rock Center special on Mormonism. Having brilliant friends is really great, thought I, as we hashed through our likes and dislikes of the show.

Things I learned last night: women appreciate a pretty table and real napkins, girl talk is so necessary, Julie still makes the best salad around, women need to get together more often, and nothing is more cleansing than laughing really, really hard. Most importantly: with the unexpected twists and turns that life inevitably takes, having caring friends who believe in one another and champion one another is one of life's richest blessings.

Next time, your house???!

From Empty to Joyful in Thirty Minutes

So late this afternoon, I was driving home feeling a little bit empty and sad: daughter was off to a BBQ with friends and then the hometown football game, and doctor / bishop / handsome husband would soon be home from work to gather up his gear and set off for an overnighter with the Venture Scouts. I was going to be home alone with not much on my agenda: I had chosen what I thought was "the best" from a bunch of less-than-interesting movies at the local RedBox, and had brought a can of pumpkin in from the food storage with which to make a couple of loaves of pumpkin bread. Big thrill. Humph, and humph again.

Now it's nearly four hours later, and guess what? I've had the most wonderful evening by myself! And there's still a little more time before I pick up an SUV full of soaked-from-the-rain, excited teenagers ... so here I am, with you, to share what I learned tonight. Here's how I went "from empty to joyful" in thirty minutes flat.

1. Come home to quiet house, greeted by faithful Doodle, look around and see a bit of a mess. This I know about myself: I am not happy in a bit of a mess. I have two options: schlunk down into the mess and stay there for the evening, or take a few minutes to tidy up. Hey, I'm worth it!! Ah, Choice #1, taken by the horns and conquered. Tidiness it is.

2. Turn on all my pretty lamps as dusk closes in, and open the sliding door: cozy light inside, soft rain falling outside, fresh air creeps invigoratingly into my downstairs.

3. Light my incredibly yummy Beanpod (apple cider) soy candle. Instant Fall-in-a-Jar. Feeling better already.

4. Push "play" on my kitchen Bose: Jim Brickman's "Beautiful World" CD fills the room. Song 1 is "Simple Gifts", which always makes me feel at-one with the Shakers and all that is autumnal. Hum along, then sing along heartily: "'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free, 'tis the gift to come down to where we ought to be. And when we find ourselves in the place just riiiiiight ... 'twill be in the valley of love and delight."

5. Give the Doodle an unsolicited tummy rub. Kiss the top of his brown nose. Unless you're a dog lover, you WILL NOT get this. That's okay.

6. Start making a single serving of homemade hot chocolate on the stove. (2 T. cocoa, 2 T. sugar, dash of salt, 1 cup milk. Heat 'til steaming, and add 1/4 t. vanilla) Turn burner off when the call comes to be at the Crossroads for my daughter: grab the car keys, run to shuttle two cute 13 year-olds from making cookies at Kylie's to the BBQ at Mia's. Home again.

7. Finish hot chocolate, pour into my favorite striped mug, and spray a huge puff of whipped cream on top. Because I can.

8. A friend who never fails to inspire me phones. We talk for 16:38 minutes, and she tells me about her extraordinary experiences from last night. I feel as excited for her as if it happened to me. How I love having noble, Christlike women as dear friends.

9. Make a nest in my reading spot in our living room / library: soft blanket, new book, slippers, good reading light, move the candle in close ... start Ron Clark's The End of Molasses Classes -- 101 Extraordinary Solutions for Parents and Teachers. Oh my goodness. Amazing from page 1. If you are a parent, or a teacher in any sense, or a lover of young people (or all three), you will LOVE this book. Worthy of a blog post all its own. I have Brooke to thank for turning me on to this amazing educator who thinks out-of-the-box and accomplishes miracles with youth.

10. Handsome husband is home! Spring from my cozy spot to be at his Crossroads. Perch on the arm of the sofa in his office while he packs his stuff for the overnighter. After a grueling week of doctor and Church responsibilities, he is lighthearted and happy! This is a man who loves to "throw his pack together", grab a sleeping bag, change from work clothes to play clothes, and go make a difference with a bunch of young men. We catch up on the news of the day: an unexpected, sweet phone call from our daughter's History teacher, his report on this week's surgical procedures, update on phone messages from ward members ... all the while either he or I is/am running up and down the stairs, gathering his skull cap or his North Face gloves or his thick socks. Husband has transformed from doctor to outdoorsman, and after a quick smooch and a big smile, he's off to meet up with the priests' quorum. Feeling SO GOOD that I took the time to connect with him before he left. Love this man.

11. Read another chapter in Ron Clark's amazing book. Marking favorite words and phrases and whole paragraphs.

12. Start dinner for myself: one perfect, beautiful tenderloin steak slowly pan-fried in a tad of olive oil and herbs (then sliced thinly), a cup of fresh, steamed broccoli with lemon juice, and a small goblet of fresh-pressed apple cider.

13. Grab my inspiration notebook because suddenly the heavens have parted and phrases of illumination are coming fast and furious. Jot as fast as my hand can move. I have been praying lately about what my life needs to be about right now, where my time needs to be spent. I am brought back to C.S. Lewis' analogy of A LIFE as compared to either a cottage or a palace, and suddenly see exactly how that applies to me. My direction for this next phase of life comes in little snippets of light and whispered promptings. I am writing. I am getting it. I am joyful. I know what my next move must be, and it is exciting.

14. Eat dinner slowly, taking breaks to continue writing in my journal. Feel grateful that I took the time to be quiet tonight, rather than glueing myself to the TV. The Spirit needed to be able to get through. Feel the need to blog RIGHT NOW, after weeks of feeling less-than-inspired and so un-bloggy.

15. Grab my little camera, take an awkward photo of my reading spot (so you can have a visual image as you read), log onto blogspot, and type, type, type. The words pour out, and thirty minutes later, here I am typing this period. That one there.

One lesson from tonight: the emptiness and the poor-me feelings high-tailed themselves out of here the moment I made the CHOICE to set my stage to have a wonderful evening. Another lesson, re-learned: in order to hear the still, small voice of the Spirit, we need to make time to be quiet.

Well, my sweet followers, I have about thirty minutes 'til I'm on carpool duty again. Start that dumb movie? Nope. I have just enough time to get a couple loaves of pumpkin bread in the oven, then I get to hang out with the world's coolest teenager. Be back soon...

"Biggest Loser" Magic - Week 30

Here's me at 9:00 this morning: stretched out on the sofa, half-laying/half-sitting, pillow behind my back, blanket covering me, thick "Life is Good" socks on my feet, big, slouchy green cardigan on, glasses perched on my nose, and mug of hot chocolate in hand. Got the picture??

I had recorded the season opener of MY FAVORITE TV SHOW, "The Biggest Loser", and was perfectly settled in to fall in love with this season's new contestants. I was grinning like a fool as the show began, and downing the cocoa as the opening music rolled.

Now here's me 45 minutes later: no blanket, cardigan or socks. Hair back in a headband. Contact lenses slipped in during a commercial. Water bottle alongside me as I stretched on the floor. I was still grinning like a fool, but now I'm doing leg lifts and lifting small hand-weights and getting all inspired. Yep, within two program segments, I was in, hook, line, and sinker. The Magic of the Biggest Loser was working on me in record time.

I finally had to go and get a little box of Kleenex, too, because along with all the grinning, I was also crying like a baby. Unabashedly crying for these strangers who were, before my eyes, grabbing hold of their lives and makin' changes fast and furious-like. I was inspired beyond belief, and took to scribbling little nuggets of inspiration in my notebook between sniffles, leg lifts, and eyes trying to stay glued on the big-screen.

Do you watch this show?? Do you love it like I do?? Does it motivate you to get off your behind and start becoming the person you know you can be?? It sure does for me, and was JUST what I needed, as I am waffling in Week 30 of my Excellent Experiment with nothing impressive to report.

If I had to put my finger on THREE THINGS about Biggest Loser that I absolutely love, they would be:

1. It is riveting to watch (through the magic of television condensing and editing) real people change their lives in front of my eyes, in the 1 hour and 45 minutes it takes to watch the first episode. Every fiber in my chubby being is yelling, "If they can do it, then I CAN TOO!"

2. I love the emotional pieces that emerge as the first weeks progress for the BL contestants. A feeling of family begins to form, as everyone is working together toward challenging personal goals. As people beging to feel that they are not alone, they get more confident and start to become their best selves. As they get emotionally strong, their physical bodies start to change. I love the power that comes from watching the contestants build one another up in love and support.

3. There are little priceless gems that pop out during the show (that you might miss if you're not looking for them). For example, new trainer Darvel (I think this is his name) was working with one guy who just hadn't made the mind-switch yet. Darvel said: "Focus is all you need, and the weight will come off!" The guy soon bought in to the power within himself, and at the week's final weigh-in, the weight had come off, to the tune of something crazy like 20 pounds. (I have to remember: these results are NOT TYPICAL in real life!!)

Well, as soon as I clicked off the TV, I changed my plans for my noontime, threw on my running shoes and socks, leashed up my Sugar Doodle, and was out the door to run for the first time in weeks. It was MUGGY, I was soon drenched, but it felt TERRIFIC to be back at it. And I took a totally new three-mile loop through the country, llamas, goats, cows, dogs, mosquitos and all. Because darn it, my new motto is: "Life begins when you take your first step outside of your comfort zone!!" I've been trying this out the last couple of days, and I'n believing it!!

Thank you, Biggest Loser, for the cleansing 90-minute cry, the motivation I needed to get moving, and the awesome feeling that is mine now that I'm back from that run. Right here, right now, is where the rest of my life begins, and I'm excited!! And did you hear that I'm to be a Grandmommy come March/April??! Even more incentive to get my act completely together ... a sweet little baby to love, and to be an example of good health for!!

As I was running, this thought kept playing over and over in my mind, visual image and all:

"When you feel inspiration start to lift you, PICK UP YOUR FEET and fly with it! Then, behold the miracles!"

How often do we feel little promptings of inspiration, but are afraid or doubting or lazy, and root our feet on the comfortable ground?? As the closing music on BL exulted: "I'm on the edge of glory!!" (Thanks Gaga) We just need to trust inspiration, pick up our feet, and lean into it!

Another thought came to me as my feet were pounding the road: what if we started a private group on facebook for like-minded women who want to get fit and healthy and need some of that feeling of "family" or "team support"?? Whether you know me personally or not, we could meet every day on this group page and encourage one another by posting inspiring things and cheering one another on. What do you think??? Would this be something that could help you? I know it would be a boost for me! If that little prick of inspiration is saying "Ooohhh, I kinda like that idea..." I encourage you to message me on facebook (Macy Wright Sorensen), and let's get it started!!

Love to you all, and let's use this Back-to-School time to get Back-to-Health-and-Fitness!! We're "on the edge of glory"!!

Lessons From Girls' Camp

Fun "Where's Waldo?"-type game: Can you find me in this photo from Skit Night? Bonus points if you can find my daughter! Hint: we're both smiling. :)

If you haven't been to Girls' Camp, then you haven't really lived! (slight exaggeration) If you HAVE been to Girls' Camp, then you know exactly what I mean: 250 young women, ages 12 to 18. 50 uber-talented adult women leaders filling a variety of positions. A Church ranch dedicated by an apostle. Four days of 85 degree weather. A perfectly-cool lake with a big dock. Cabins where campers sleep by ward. Outdoor survival skills classes. Wild and crazy Skit Night. Trail of Truth presentation in the woods after dark, with flashlights only. 16-18 year-old girls capably serving as Youth Camp Leaders. Oh-so-delicious food. Crack-of-dawn classes. Really loud morning and evening roll-call cheers. ("Hey E2?" "Hey what?") Tutus and Harry Potter glasses and stick horses and colorful bandannas and braided hair and bulky camp necklaces and sherbet-colored camp T-shirts everywhere you look. New friendships. Old friendships. And the highlight: Testimony Meeting around our ward campfires with our bishops, where the girls begin to connect their camp experiences with profound spiritual lessons that they can take home.

Transporting the young women away from civilization, cell phones, ipods, computers, TV, popular music, fashionable clothes, and all the "comforts of home" may seem like a recipe for disaster. Actually just the opposite is true. For these four days, in this beautiful setting - in the middle of a forest on a hill next to a lake - lives can change and miracles can happen. God is present everywhere you look: the stars shine brighter, the air is fresher, the sky bluer, and the trees that surround you become like comfortable friends. We quickly forget to care about mascara or cute shoes or boys or the carpool, and become enveloped in all that is Girls' Camp.

I wanted to share a few of my favorite camp memories with you, while they are still fresh in my mind. I HOPE that you'll find some little glimmer of goodness here that will apply in your own life. Following each memory, I've included a "lesson learned" from it. Come with me for a few minutes as we go back to Zions Camp in Belfair, WA...

1. Our ward had the wonderful opportunity to bring three new Beehives (age 12-13) with us to camp this year. One was a newly-baptized member of the Church, and the other two were not members. As adult leaders, we were concerned that our "longtime" girls would invite "the newbies" into their friend circles during the week at camp, so we spoke with a few of our YCLs and encouraged them to look for ways to befriend these sweet new girls. The rest, as they say, was history ...

ALL of our young women enveloped the new girls in love, and a buddy magically appeared for each of them at every turn during the week. The following questions became our girls' modus operandi: "Wanna come swimming with us?" "I need a buddy to walk to the showers with ... will you come with me?" "Can I braid your hair?" "Let's go to the archery class together!" "Come sit by me at dinner!" "Have you checked your Secret Sister pouch this afternoon?" "Hey, sleep in the bunk next to mine!" The love in our little campsite, from the beginning to the end of the week, was so thick that you could FEEL it. Our new girls' countenances radiated with acceptance and confidence, and they were soon giggling, hugging, blossoming, and joining in with the best of them. I wouldn't be surprised if lives on both the giving and receiving ends were changed.

Now, six weeks later as we're home again in our regular routine of school and Church classes and activities, the closeness of real friendship remains amongst all our girls. What is the lesson for me? When we "get out of ourselves" and focus on others, we experience incredible, almost tangible, joy. When it becomes "How can I help make this situation better?" rather than "What's in it for me?", we can change lives. Others' and our own. Thank you, young women of the E2 Crew, for teaching by your actions.

2. In the middle of free time one hot afternoon, we four ward leaders were standing outside our cabin chit-chatting. All of our young women were off swimming, crafting, throwing knives, shooting arrows, on the R.O.P.E.S. course, or enjoying time with friends in their cabins. Suddenly, we looked up, and there were three stake leaders sauntering into our camp with sly smiles on their faces and something in their hands.

Was it a prank?? Oh, no it was not ... they were delivering icebox-cold, homemade CHOCOLATE / SALTED CARAMEL CUPCAKES to us leaders, just because!! One beautiful, perfect cupcake with a drizzle of caramel on the swirled frosting, all nestled in its own little white box, for each of us! Let's just say amidst yelps, and "OH. MY. GOSH.es", we devoured those delectible little cakes of yumminess right there on the spot, still standing. I think I even nibbled (rodent-like) off the left-behind chocolate crumbs on my cupcake paper after I turned it inside-out.

What's the lesson here?? Any ideas??! Well, for me it is this: never underestimate the power in delivering surprise goodies to people. Seriously! And there is something to be said for delivering one perfect little serving, too. It says: you are special and you are WORTH IT and I took the time to make this just for you. Thank you, stake, for spoiling us hot, sweaty, dirty leaders with a little bit of loveliness. It made a difference.

3. This year I was asked to be the First-Year Certification Leader. This means that it was my job -- with my able assistant and friend Holly -- to oversee 15 YCLs (16-18 year-olds) in their teaching 60 First-Years (12 year-olds) such skills as how to extinguish a fire, how to tie three kinds of knots, how to perform the Heimlich Maneuver, how to tie a cravat bandage, among other things.

We had a couple of pre-camp meetings with these older girls where they chose their topics to teach, and they assured us that they would be prepared at camp to fulfill their assignments. Our counsel: teach the information in the Camp Manual in a fun way, and let the girls demonstrate their knowledge back to you. What actually happened at camp was a tad different from what we'd expected.

A few YCLs came prepared to teach excellent demonstrations with visual aids and games and handouts. Some YCLs were not as prepared, but were able to pinch-hit on the spot ably because of their own personal experiences with the skills that they chose to teach. Other pairs of YCLs with no preparation presented their topics ... well, interestingly. But hey! Just because I had never thought of teaching the principles of outdoor sanitation in a Harry Potter-like English accent doesn't mean it's not effective, right? And just because my idea of showing the contents of a (very) basic (6-item) First Aid Kit didn't include using an aged relative's EXTENSIVE three-tier kit from the 1960s (outdated??) doesn't mean it wasn't another good way of doing it, right??! And reading STRAIGHT OUT OF THE MANUAL paragraph after paragraph, well, at least all of the material is being covered, right?!

What did I learn? You know, it just takes all kinds. I think that in that big group of 60 first-years, there really was a teaching style for everyone. (I, for one, will never forget "Hermione's" steps for disposing of trash in the campsite! And I totally remember the contents of a Basic First Aid Kit!) I also re-learned (sigh) that it is far better to gently offer "constructive suggestions" in patience and love, with an arm around the shoulders, than in clipped, abrupt sentences that show my frustration. I tried both and proved this, for sure. And ended up having such a love in my heart for ALL of these YCLs.

4. One of the coolest blessings of camp this year, for me, was being there with my 13 year-old daughter. We camped in the same site, but I gave her a wide berth as far as parental hovering went, as she's still figuring out that I'm as awesome as I tell her I am. Nevertheless, I LOVED watching her do her thing and experience Girls' Camp.

On the last night, my daughter and I were in a big group of girls that were rotating through the dark, wooded, outdoor stations of Trail of Truth with the aid of a few flashlights. She got separated from the girls that she was with, and as she turned around with a frightened look on her face, I happened to be right there. She grabbed on to my arm and linked hers through mine, and we walked through the rest of the activity together. We quietly shared our observations, and at the end of the trail she hugged me and told me that she was glad I was there for her. Then, she saw her friends, and was off into the darkness.

If you are a mom of a teenaged girl, you probably get the significance of this moment. Let's just say, it was the highlight of my week. Lesson learned: just BE THERE FOR YOUR CHILDREN. You never know - when they'll know - that they need you.

5. Every morning at 6:45am, our Ward Camp Director ( my dear friend Beth) would have the fixings for hot chocolate on the camp stove for us as we sleepily headed off to our Early Morning classes. I loved this little luxury, and felt cozy inside as I settled onto a log bench down the trail in the little amphitheater Wednesday morning for Dawn's "spiritual" class.

For the next hour Dawn taught, and we girls and leaders discussed, the idea that "all things bear witness of Christ". It was a beautiful experience, sitting there amongst the towering pine trees, with the sunshine peeking through, girls wrapped in quilts from their cabins, birds singing, scripture pages shuffling and being read from, and the distant strain of the young women Instant Choir preparing "Walk Tall, You're a Daughter of God" for that night's fireside.

That morning, I really GOT the concept that Dawn shared with us. Evidence of Christ is everywhere around us, particularly in His divinely-created beauties of nature, and in the God-given talents of others who so freely share them. I made a little promise to myself that morning on the bench, with camp mug in hand, that I would try to continue to look for Christ more purposefully when I returned to "normal life". And guess what? I have. When I open my spiritual eyes and really SEE, it is true. He is all around me.

6. Every night at camp, I would lay on top of my sleeping bag in my bunk and in those few minutes before I was "out like a log", I would have this repeated thought: "Okay, tomorrow I will try to be a little more like Beth / Lorri / Holly..." Let me tell you why:

First of all, we were privileged to camp under the leadership of Beth, our Ward Camp Director. Not only is Beth my dear friend, but this woman runs a TIGHT SHIP at Girls' Camp. She can unload and set up camp (with the help of our young women) in what seems like ten minutes flat. She breezes about with an air of authority while at the same time has such a love for all of the girls. In her non-nonsense way, she can address squabbles (usually between sisters) quickly and directly and have everyone leave happier and like they feel they've been heard. She is, in a word, amazing. The rest of us adult leaders pity the woman who, some year, will replace Beth as the WCD ... she is an institution.

And then there's Lorri. Lorri is a RESOURCE FOR ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING. You want to know about natural remedies for female problems? You want to know how to make a flowered headband? You want to know how to make bread, start-to-finish in an hour, or how to set up a blog? Lorri's your gal. She has such a command of the Internet, and through her years of research there, has become pretty much a walking source of Knowing How to Do Stuff. Couple this with the fact that she shares her knowledge so freely and happily ... Lorri doesn't know the meaning of the word selfish. She loves to help you figure something out. Plus she's super laid-back and has a wickedly-dry sense of humor, and is happiest quietly contributing behind the scenes. Yep, she's a Girls' Camp Keeper.

And Holly. Holly and I ended up doing many of the same things together this summer: Ragnar Relay with our husbands, all the pre-camp preparation for Camp then camp itself, a week at Lake Coeur d'Alene together with our families, then helping our young women train for their Walk to the Temple. With anyone else, it might have gotten to be a tad much, but we kept looking at each other toward the end of the summer and laughing, "Hey, and I'm not even sick of you yet!!" Holly is, in a word delightful. And lovely. Girls of all ages are drawn to her because of her gentleness, her constant smile and laugh, and her love of jumping in and participating in everything. And, there's this other thing about her ... she has this uncanny ability to always look clean and fresh as a daisy ALL WEEK LONG at camp. I don't know how she does it!! What a talent!

All in all, an intense study of female greatness for me that week.

Other things that really touched me: seeing my bishop-husband in action with the young women (he always prepares something "out-of-the-box" that leads to something spiritual), serendipitous talks on the path / picnic table / dock with fabulous women from around the stake, pushing myself to earn the Mile Swim bead, quiet conversations one-on-one with young women that just sort of "happened", the raising of the American flag so touchingly each morning, singing and more singing ... and the best part, seeing our ward young women try new things and blossom and make spiritual connections and grow.

Ahhh, the miracles of Girls' Camp. My three camp necklaces are re-hung in the back of my closet, my hoodie is folded on the top shelf, and my mess kit has found its place back in the garage, until (hopefully) next year...

"What's for Dinner Tonight? And Tomorrow Night?" - A Weekly Template

(Turn your head 90 degrees to view photo. So sorry. Can't get the image to rotate!)

Hey girls! Look what I found that is already making my life a little easier! It's a simple, no-frills Weekly Menu Plan template. If you like the one you see here, you can go to organizedhome.com and print a bunch off. Estimated time it will take you to do so: 30 seconds. If you like the idea, but aren't sold on the style I've chosen, Google "Weekly Menu Template" and behold the possibilities.

What are the benefits of posting a Weekly Menu Plan on your fridge or bulletin board? After nearly 25 years of married life, and trying all different ways to stay organized in the "family meal department", I would submit the following:

1. Knowing in advance WHAT IS FOR DINNER TONIGHT (and tomorrow night) is hugely freeing! Forget about those panicked moments that occur between 4:00 and 5:00pm when you realize that you forgot to buy the main ingredient for the meal that you were planning in your head. Forget about the frantic trip to the grocery store to get "something, anything" for dinner. Imagine answering calmly, when your child yells -- while peeling off soccer socks and shin guards two rooms away -- "Mom, what's for dinner?": "Why, BBQ salmon, rice pilaf, and cold watermelon chunks, dear!" Freedom indeed.

2. Having a lower total grocery bill, week to week. If I don't have a weekly meal plan, I am making a run to the store every other day, just picking up enough food to get us through a few meals. Without a list to consult, I am buying on a whim. Gee, that ($7.99 lb.) specialty pasta salad in the deli looks good and fast. (Toss it in the cart) I didn't have time to make a dessert for the missionaries' visit tonight ... I'll just grab this box of ice cream bars. ($5.99) In my experience, if I'm shopping without any point of reference, I'm spending way too much at the store.

3. My family likes to be able to look at the posted Menu Plan and anticipate the good dinner that will be prepared that night. "Oh, yum. I love Spaghetti Pomodoro!" I might even get an irresistible offer like "Can I help you chop the tomatoes?"

4. It is a joy -- yes, that's precicely the word I'd use, joy -- to prepare dinner when I know that I've got everything I need to make a delicious, balanced meal. Chicken taken out of the freezer this morning to defrost in the sink? Check? Yummy (and cheap) homemade salad dressing made between carpool shifts? Check. Apple Crisp cooling on the rack for our at-home family movie night? Check. It is on these days that I remember how much I really do love to cook.

5. It's so much easier to write out a grocery list when the menus have already been planned. I'll know exactly what I need and what I don't. Because I know my neighborhood grocery store so well, I can be up and down the aisles in a breeze, gathering needed items. If I'm creating menus as I'm shopping, I'm doubling back to get forgotten items, and constantly organizing in my head to see if I have what I need.


What do you think?? What are your secrets for preparing delicious dinners for your families, in the easiest manner possible? How do you keep your cooking interesting and tasty and as stress-free as possible??

Bringin' Back Succotash - Three Recipes and Week 26

(BLOG POST ALERT: Be aware that there are THREE delicious summer recipes posted below, and --finally-- an update on my Excellent Experiment, even further below!)

Yep, I'm bringin' back succotash. Which begs the question, "Was succotash ever really here?", or perhaps the more pressing, "What in the Sam Hill IS succotash?" When I grandly introduced it to the fam tonight at the dinner table, my husband couldn't hold himself back from channeling his inner Sylvester the Cat: "Thufferin' Thuccotash!" he spontaneously erupted, surprising even himself, I think. My thirteen year-old just looked confused.

Turned out, though, this fresh and minimally-prepared side dish was a big hit. Succotash by definition is: "a simmered dish, primarily consisting of fresh corn kernels, together with lima beans (I didn't use these but substituted diced fresh zucchini)and tomatoes." And so, I happily offer up my EASY version of this southern favorite. It was unanimously delish. This is a perfect solution if you've got a couple of cooked ears of corn left over and/or if a friend has bequeathed you a fabulous zucchini from her garden. Each bite just bursts of fresh-fresh summer flavors.

Fresh Succotash

2 large ears of raw corn, kernels cut off (if using cooked corn, see note below**)
2 medium zucchini, large-diced
2 medium tomatoes, large-diced
2 T. extra-light olive oil
1/2 cup purple onion, diced
2 cloves fresh garlic, minced
salt and pepper to taste

In large frying pan, heat oil on medium heat. Add onion and garlic and saute for 2-3minutes, or until onion just begins to soften. Add raw corn and zucchini chunks, and continue to saute for four minutes or so, until just al dente. Add tomatoes and salt and pepper and cook another minute. If possible, serve in a white serving bowl on the table because the colors are so beautiful!

**If using pre-cooked corn, add at the end with the tomatoes.


Let's move on to Summer Recipe #2! My friend Holly introduced us all to this heavenly fresh peach pie a couple weeks ago while our families were vacationing together at Lake Coeur d'Alene in Idaho.

As is tradition, we always stop in Thorpe, WA on our way eastward to buy some local produce for our week at the lake. A must: a big box of fresh peaches. Halfway through the week, we started to panic because we needed to use the last third of the box quickly ... Holly saved the day and effortlessly whipped up this dessert. We cooks clamored for paper and pens to take down the recipe before we'd even swallowed our last bites. It's THAT good.

FREE BONUS: You need to know that Holly is pretty much the sweetest, nicest, kindest girl I've ever met. I'd like to think that when I make this "sweet" pie, a little bit of Holly-ness rubs off on me, and therefore you, too.


HOLLY'S FRESH PEACH PIE

1 - deep-dish (frozen) pie crust, baked
6-7 large, ripe, juicy peaches (or 9 medium - you want them heaped up in the middle)
3/4 cup sugar
1 T. lemon juice (this is the magical ingredient that prevents browning of cut fruit)
3 T. corn starch
2 T. butter
dash salt
few drops pure almond extract (this is the secret to the pie ... don't omit)
Fresh, sweetened whipped cream

Peel and slice peaches in large bowl. Pour sugar and lemon juice over fruit. Stir gently, cover, and let set at room temperature for 1-2 hours. (This is called macerating, when the fruit + sugar + room temp = release of delicious juices)

Pour contents of bowl into colander over a large glass measuring cup. Add enough water to the peach juice to make one cup. (I haven't had to do this, as the peaches have produced exactly the right amount of juice) Pour cup of juice into small saucepan, add corn starch, and cook slowly over medium heat, stirring constantly, allowing to slowly thicken. Cook until shiny and clear.

Remove from heat and whisk in butter, salt, and almond extract. Fold into peaches and heap into baked pie crust. Cover with plastic wrap, and chill thoroughly. (My advice: make this pie early in the day so it can refrigerate for a good 5-6 hours. The pie will really SET, and the pieces will serve much more nicely this way.) Serve with healthy dollops of fresh whipped cream.



SUMMER RECIPE #3. You may already be a master at BBQing ribs. I wasn't, but I am now thanks to my friend Jeri. Just a couple of her simple tips will help earn you rave reviews when you serve these to a hungry crowd. Try pairing these ribs with succotash (above), your favorite homemade potato salad, and pitchers of fresh strawberry lemonade. And Peach Pie for dessert, of course. The perfect summer feast!

JERI'S RIBS

4-5 lbs. country-style (bone-in or bone-out) pork ribs, defrosted
2 bottles of your favorite BBQ sauce

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a disposable, deep, heavy-duty aluminum baking pan, pour a good amount of BBQ sauce into the bottom and spread around. Line up ribs next to each other in a single layer. Pour the rest of one bottle of BBQ sauce over ribs and distribute evenly with brush. Cover tightly with heavy-duty aluminum foil, and bake for 2 1/2 to 3 hours.

Preheat grill. Remove cooked ribs from pan and arrange on a serving platter. Open your second bottle of sauce and generously douse them once again. Transfer ribs to grill and cook just long enough to "finish" them: they are already cooked thoroughly, now you're just giving them slightly charred edges and that wonderful grilled flavor. While grilling, thoroughly wash and dry your serving platter, then transfer finished ribs back and serve with extra BBQ sauce on the side and lots of napkins. They will fly outta there, guaranteed.


And now, faithful friends, do any of you even remember my Excellent Experiment that I've been testing since February??! I had such great success those first few months by incorporating a new healthy way of eating and moving, and had (have) thirty less pounds to show for it. Now, as I come to the end of a summer full of exciting adventures and all of the good foods that go along with them, I have had a solid course in MAINTAINING the weight loss. (My Experiment is only half complete, though, and I'm glad I gave myself the target date of December 25 as my long-range weight-loss date. I will need these fall and early winter months to lose the next thirty pounds.) But back to MAINTENANCE ... here are a couple things I've learned this summer:

1. If I am looking for exercise opportunities during my week, and taking them, I have found that I can eat just about anything I want if I am careful about portions. That is key. In between training for and running the Ragnar Relay, preparing for the Young Women 20-mile walk to the Seattle Temple (next Saturday!), swimming and earning the "mile bead" at Young Women Camp, and climbing Mt. Peak with varied groups of friends including my daughter, I have also indulged in my share of ice cream cones, chocolate chip cookies, BBQ ribs (above), and peach pie (also above), et.al. It is so good to know that, when I get to my target weight, I have the skills I need to maintain it while still enjoying, in reasonable portions, lots of delicious foods with my family. Once again, PORTION CONTROL IS A KEY.

2. You know, I guess there really is no #2 or #3. Good, regular exercise and portion control are the answers. There's not much more to say on this subject of maintenance. Big surprise??! Healthy diet and regular exercise (and prayer!) are, after all, the magic answers we women search for. Figuring out how to tweak these things so that they fit into our individual lives, and then DOING THEM, is the challenge.

When my daughters go "Back to School" in a couple of weeks, I will be going "Back to My Own Early Posts" on beginning a weight loss effort. (February, March, April) I will jump in with the things that worked before, and keep my spiritual eyes open for new avenues to experiment with, and I will expect success!

So girls, almost time to get-er-goin' again ... hope you'll stay tuned and, better yet, join me in the months to come! Let's feel fit and healthy (and look great) by Christmas, what do ya say? How about THAT for a Christmas gift to ourselves??!

(I'm not above offering a good bribe, either, if you'll stick with me. Look for another chance at winning something cool in a give-away -- in exchange for one of your happy comments -- in my next post!)

Love to you all, and be back soon. :)

"I'll Be Seeing You" - A Tribute to My Dad

My earliest memory of my dad is of him breezing in at the end of a day's work from Traveler's Insurance Company, dressed in a dark suit and tie and smelling of Old Spice After Shave Lotion. I also vividly remember sitting sideways on his lap while he talked to me in Mandarin Chinese or sang a few bars (in his tenor voice) of "How Are Things in Glocca Morra?" or "Danny Boy". Dad was a soft-hearted, soft-spoken, intelligent, funny, 6'1/2" wonderful man who was proud of his English/Irish heritage, his Pittsburgh, PA roots, and his "legs like a racehorse".

I was fascinated at an early age by my dad's name: Henry Franklin Dannals Nelson Wright. What a name! He was named after a maternal uncle, Henry (Harry) Franklin Dannals, then his mother threw in the third middle name, Nelson, for good measure, and to ensure that posterity remembered the most-likely claim that they were direct descendants of Lord Horatio Nelson, the 18th-century English Admiral. Dad signed his name "Henry F. Wright" (with his signature curly "F"), but everyone knew him throughout his life as Harry, or "Big Hare".

Some of my random, snapshot-like memories of my dad include:

*He usually wore golf pants and shirts when he was dressed casually. His pants, especially, were in loud colors: firetruck red, grass green, turquoise, or bright yellow, with an occasional shade of khaki out of deference. His closet was a literal rainbow of golf pants. I don't think he ever owned a pair of jeans. Plaid Bermuda shorts, most definitely, but never jeans. He loved to buy his suits at Silverwoods For Men, or later, at Nordstrom, and carefully chose ties that would complement the patterns in his suit fabrics. Dad loved clothes and was careful about his appearance.

*I never remember Dad cooking anything in the kitchen, except for on a rare Saturday when he would "fry hot dogs" by splitting them down the middle and frying them open-faced. He would put the open hot dog bun alongside in the pan, and grill it, then top his dogs with sauerkraut and mustard. I ate mine this way, too, even at age seven, just to be like my dad. Dad was a competent bread-winner for our little family, but I don't believe he ever did any physical work, or chores, around our home. My organized, strong, and particular mom took care of everything inside and outside of the house. Looking back, that's hard to believe, but somehow it worked for them.

*Dad worked hard all week long, and then enjoyed his TV time in the evenings and on the weekends. I remember watching many episodes of "The Big Valley" or "Murder She Wrote" together, and Saturday afternoons were usually dedicated to Pittsburgh Steelers / Los Angeles Dodgers games or PGA Golf tournaments, after he himself had been "on the links" early that morning with his foursome. Mom and Dad loved to watch "anything English" on PBS, too. Dad enjoyed sitting on the back patio with a glass of iced coffee, listening to the birds sing, and "communing with nature". And, lucky for us, he was always game to go out for breakfast or a nice dinner.

*As a little girl, I remember running to Dad's bedroom closet to get his navy corduroy slippers for him when he got home from work. He would stretch his long legs out in front of him, and I would do the honors of changing his footwear from day to evening. He really loved this, and I loved it that he loved it.

*I always was HUNGRY to know details about the Wright / Dannals side of my family. I never met any of his relatives in person (until my wedding weekend), and desperately wanted to know about the "other half of me". Because of a somewhat sad and neglectful childhood, Dad kept most of his early memories to himself, but every now and then he'd divulge a little pearl of a story. I filed these away in my memory, though many blank spots remained.

*As an older teenager, I worked at my dad's company in Burbank, CA in the summers as one of the switchboard operators. I loved this job, mainly because the elevator opened all day long right in front of our long desk, and I would catch glimpses of Dad emerging from the elevator with a variety of people. I soon realized that Dad was JUST THE SAME with Sam the company janitor as he was with Joe the in-house CEO. This became a model for me to try to live up to, one I still think about and try to honor.

*When I brought my handsome tennis date (later to be husband) home to meet my parents, I remember Dad giving me an exaggerated "two-thumbs-up!" behind my date's back. This began a warm ten-year relationship between my dad and my husband, up until Dad had his debilitating stroke on September 11, (our own 9/11) 1996. After that, visits were a bit one-sided, but my husband continued to have a soft spot in his heart for my father.

*On the morning of my wedding, I came out into the family room to find Dad in his terry-cloth robe standing in the middle of the room, staring pensively off into space while Anne Murray crooned "I'll Be Seeing You", and then "Can I Have This Dance?" Dad LOVED Anne Murray. He told me that day that it was one of the happiest days of his life.

*Our oldest daughter had a special relationship with Dad. They would snuggle up next to each other on the couch to read or watch TV together, and Dad would gently tease Claire. She would giggle and always answer, "Oh, Papa!" Dad was more affectionate with our daughter than he ever was with me, but that was okay. I loved it that they enjoyed their own special bond.

*My mother was the best thing that ever happened to my dad. Having grown up in a difficult home environment, Mom gave Dad a real fighting chance at having a healthy family life. She stuck with him through his years of alcoholism and his several-pack-a-day cigarette habit, both of which he quit "cold turkey" when I was a young teenager. She kept a beautiful, clean home, kept Dad's clothes clean and pressed, cooked healthy meals for him, and just generally supported him from the home front so that he could enjoy the successes that he did in the surety bond business and elsewhere. I think Dad would've agreed that his secret weapon was most certainly his wife.



And then, when his years of physical addictions caught up with him, Dad had a major stroke while at the office, and instantaneously went from bidding jobs and meeting with contractors to laying in a bed, paralyzed on one side and without the ability to speak. He remained there for the next 15 years of his life. My mom selflessly cared for him at home with the help of nurses, dedicating her whole life to keeping him as happy and comfortable and clean as possible. She left nothing undone for Dad all of those years, and has said that she actually grew to love him even more deeply than she did before. I am positive that they will have a joyful reunion on the other side some day, when Dad will be able to finally vocalize his thanks and devotion to Mom for all of her years of service to him, from the beginnings of their 50-year marriage until Dad's final hours.


"Legacy" has been defined as: "anything handed down from the past, as from an ancestor or a predecessor". I have contemplated what my father's legacy to me, and to his granddaughters, might be. Three facets come to mind:

1. LOVE OF WORDS: Dad was a very literate man. He was educated in History and Far-Eastern Affairs at University of Pittsburgh, was very well-read, devoured the morning newspaper and worked crossword puzzles for fun. He had neat and precise cursive handwriting, and to him, words were interesting and funny. He relished in finding just the right words to describe something. When he did, he'd often repeat his clever phrases over and over for days, just to get a laugh out of "his girls". Dad was a gifted conversationalist, especially in a one-on-one setting. He had a wide vocabulary, and expressed himself well. He also excelled at learning Mandarin Chinese at the Army Language School in the 1950s during the Korean War.

2. LOVE OF PEOPLE: As evidenced by the little story of Sam the janitor (above), Dad enjoyed all people no matter what their station in life. I remember when Garth Brooks' song "Friends in Low Places" was released, Dad used to chuckle about that being "his song". (Mom would roll her eyes.) This was interesting to me because I would have described Dad as an "elegant, cultured" man, but he really didn't see himself that way. Which, I guess, was part of his charm. Dad would "work the room" at parties (per my mother), slowly moving from group to group, patting people on the back, shaking hands, asking them about themselves, and quickly connecting with them. In larger conversation groups, Dad would tend to sit back quietly with a grin on his face, and just absorb all of the goings-on, then throw in an occasional, perfectly-worded, funny or insightful comment. No matter what my age, my friends, both girls and boys, loved my dad. After his stroke, people "came out of the woodwork" to let my mother know what a difference he had made in their lives, most often as a GOOD LISTENER and DEVOTED FRIEND.

3. LOVE FOR ME: Though Dad wasn't particularly demonstrative with me (in word or action), I always knew he loved me. He was rarely critical of me, and I can't really ever remember him disciplining me. He would take me out on Saturday morning "secrets" as a little girl, which usually meant sitting together at the counter at Howard-Johnson's and ordering Cokes in a cow-shaped mugs. Sometimes, on special days, we'd go to my school playground where I would demonstrate my latest acrobatics on the bars or basketball moves or hopscotch tricks. Sometimes I would be his "ball girl" on the school field behind our house, and would chase down his golf balls for him. It didn't really matter what we did ... just being together was the point.

The biggest evidences of Dad's love for me came especially on two days in my near-adulthood life. On the afternoon I was baptised into the LDS Church (at age 19), Dad was there leaning against the back wall and through eye contact and a big smile and little nods of his head, let me know that he supported me in my decision. Then, on the day my husband and I were married in the Los Angeles LDS Temple, he uncomplainingly waited outside with my mom while his only child was married inside. As my new husband and I emerged from the temple, I burst into tears (see photo above) when I saw my dad, the only time I cried on our wedding day. In Dad's quiet and supportive way, he allowed and even encouraged me to choose and follow my own path. All that he required was that I give everything to whatever I embraced. I will be forever grateful for that, and have tried to live my life as a tribute to his confidence in me.


As my larger-than-life father slowly withered away over the last decade-and-a-half, I have grown increasingly grateful for the Gospel of Jesus Christ and my sure knowledge that Dad's impaired physical body would soon be shed for good, and that his spirit (with all its optimum capacities) will move joyfully forward, awaiting resurrection, into his next phase of existence. Dad finally gave up the fight on July 20, 2011, and the world and I will never be the same.

I often picture my dad moving, dancing, talking, laughing, and singing where he is now, and this thrills me. My own challenges become overseeing Dad's temple work so that he will have the opportunity to accept the fullness of the Gospel, and living the best life I can so that I can rejoin him in heaven someday.


I read the following little analogy at my Grandpa Doc's funeral years ago, and I still love it and am comforted by the sentiment, even the veiled doctrine, that it expresses:

"We are standing on a shore. A large sailing ship is about to pull out. Friends and relatives of ours are standing on the deck above, waving goodbye, throwing streamers, calling to us, calling our names. And we call to them and to each other: "Look, there's Grandpa...there's Uncle Joe...there's Dad!" A bell sounds. The ship begins to move away.

"We stand silently, even sadly, for a very long time and watch as the ship sails further and further away until, finally, the mast is just a vertical pencil line on the horizon. Then it, too, goes down, until we can no longer see it. And we gasp and cry, "Oh...he's gone."

"But gone from where? Gone from our sight, that's all.

"For at the very moment we gasp, "Oh, he's gone!", another on another shore is jumping up and down, laughing and yelling and pointing excitedly out to sea crying, 'Look! There's Grandpa! There's Uncle Joe! There's Dad!'

"Their ships have truly gone home. There is another shore, another dimension in which they have already begun to live."

Dad, I miss you. I miss our Monday evening (while Mom was at work) phone calls, where you would ask all the right questions about my life. I miss your smile and your chuckle and your compliments. I am grateful that you are my dad, that we have the chance to be a family forever, and I can't wait to see you again. Imagine, you will be able to run to me, and to call me "Mace", and sing to me again! This time, though, I will ask YOU all the questions: "What were you thinking about during those long years when you couldn't walk or speak??" - "What do you think of your beautiful granddaughters?" - "Can you believe the depth of love and service that Mom happily gave to you all those years?" - "What do you think the purpose was for your long physical struggle?" - "Isn't it great to be together again???" - "Dad, are you proud of me?"

I love you, Dad. And I'll be seeing you.