Making do

Vacuuming was on my list of household chores to get done today–but my vacuum didn’t seem to be working properly.

My first thought was to check the beater. It often gets clogged with a combination of hair and thread (that’s what I get for being a quilter with long hair.) Sure enough, I was able to extricate a handful of fibers from the beaters.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t enough to get the vacuum working. So I checked the next item on my troubleshooting list: the bag. The bag was STUFFED–so much so that dust and gunk was backing up into the hose. Gross!

That’s what I get for relying on the “change bag” light on the front of the vacuum.

I took the bag outside to empty it–and ended up ripping the bag. It’s a disposable bag, but I’ve already emptied and reused it several times. I was kinda hoping to keep using it indefinitely. But no such luck.

Torn vacuum cleaner bag

Of course, I didn’t have a replacement bag handy–why would I if I wasn’t ever planning on needing it? So, rather than running to the store (I’m putting off getting gas until tomorrow and I never like to get too far below a quarter tank), I made myself a new bag.

It’s simple really.

Just grab a paper bag, cut the top off and fold and duct tape the remaining top together.

Homemade vacuum cleaner bag

Now that you’ve got a bag approximately the size of a vacuum cleaner bag, cut an x on the bottom of the bag approximately the size of the vacuum cleaner’s hose inlet. Pull the cardboard square off the old bag, duct tape it over your x, and attach the hose inlet.

Walla!

Vacuum cleaner with new bag

My newly refashioned vacuum cleaner works great!


Thankful Thursdays: Small Advances

Today I’m thankful for the small advances, the little things that indicate I’m closer to finished than I was a week ago.

  • My bathroom is clean, truly clean, for the first time in months. I cleaned the mirrors! And the floor! And got out the big guns for the bathtub and toilet. It feels nice, really nice.
    clean bathroom
  • My room is tidy, or at least almost tidy. That is, the only stacks are books–no papers, laundry, reusable shopping bags, trash, or stuff that belongs elsewhere.
    Clean Bedroom
  • The dishes are done–for now. I’ve been Susie Homemaker lately–but I do the dishes just as I’m dirtying more. This time, my counter-top is clear. Well, clear until I have dinner tonight (turkey-corn chowder, yum!)
    Clean Counter-top
  • My quilt is almost half done. I enjoyed several hours of good quilting time this morning–and made considerable progress.
    Quilt Progress
  • I’ve had a call back on my job application. Unfortunately, she called while I was driving at the very end of the workday. So, I didn’t end up talking to the HR person–but she wants me to call her back tomorrow. That certainly sounds promising.
  • I’ve got some leads for my continued genealogy search. Since I started doing family history, I’ve had a big blank spot for my Grandma Menter’s family. I knew that her maiden name was Williams and that her mother’s name was Clara. Not exactly the most promising information. But Dad dug out some boxes for me to look through on Sunday–and I found out that Clara’s maiden name was Washburn and that she had a brother named Frank and a sister named Minnie. I also learned that my great-grandfather (Clara’s husband) was named Albert H and had a brother named Walter. Definitely the best leads I’ve had in genealogy for a while.

And I’m thankful that God is always at work around me, developing my character to match the assignment He has for me: that I might be perfect, lacking nothing, and that I might have hope.

“My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.” (James 1:2-5)

“And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us.” (Romans 5:3-5)


Which reminds me

I just thought of something to say. Really.

I’m going through Experiencing God, an awesome Bible study, at my church–and God revealed something to me today.

I was complaining to God this morning when suddenly the first principle of Experiencing God popped into my head: God is always at work around me. And then it struck me that I should be asking myself “How is God at work in this situation [that I’m complaining about]?”

And so I’ve been working on being aware today, asking myself where God is at work. And that got me wondering, “Hmm, I wonder how God is at work in my roommate’s life?” Which got me thinking, “Hmm, it’s been a long time since I talked to my roommate.” Which got me thinking, “How can I know how God is working in my roommate’s life–and how can I join God in what He’s doing in my roommate’s life–if I don’t talk to my roommate?” Which inspired me to Facebook my roommate asking if she’d like to do dinner and movie tonight.

She accepted and we enjoyed Cornbread and Chipped Beef Gravy and 101 Dalmatians. We didn’t have a “deep” evening–no theological discussions, no heart baring. We just enjoyed each others’ company.

I didn’t discover what God is doing in Casandra’s life, but I did discover something that He’s doing in mine. He’s showing me that whatever He’s doing, I want to join Him–and whatever I join Him in, I want to do it with my marvelous comrade beside me.


Bleh.

What do you say when you’ve got nothing to say?

What do you say when you have plenty to say but not enough time to say it in?

What do you say when you’ve got plenty to say but not enough energy to say it?

What do you say when you’re tired of starting every blog post with “I”?

What do you say when you’ve got a hundred thousand one sentence thoughts that you’d love to share–but none of them is really worth wasting the time or space to say them?

I think I’m going to just rejoice that blogging is not my life, Christ Jesus is.


Don’t let me leave the house

Do me a favor please?

Don’t let me EVER leave the house wearing fleece socks again.

I was feeling a bit better, was assured that I’m probably not contagious any longer, and wanted to see my little sister’s musical performance tonight.

I changed into a longer skirt, put on a decently nice sweater. Then I thought, “Why bother changing my socks? It’s just a high school music show. It’s not like anyone I know will be there.”

Famous last words.

“Not anyone I know” turned out to be the president-elect of the Nebraska Dietetic Association, the graduate chair of my department, and the director of the Union College PA Program (for which I act as a professional patient).

I’ve never been so mortified in my life.

Never again.

Friends don’t let friends leave the house wearing fleece socks to ANYTHING!

Please be a pal and remind me if I forget.


Dork Mode

“They” say that form follows function–and I tend to agree. But sometimes functionality is far from “formal”. Sometimes, it’s downright dorky.

I couldn’t decide what to wear this morning. What should I wear when I’m still not sure about seeing people? What should I wear when my stomach is still roiling but I just CAN’T wear pajamas for yet another day?

Warm, I thought. So I put on a pair of leggings. I pulled a dress over top.

Ugh, I thought. But I was too cold to take the dress off. I pulled a skirt over top that.

Oh my, I thought. And I gave up on trying to look nice. Fleece snowflake laden socks complete the ensemble.

It’s not like I’m planning on seeing anyone anyway. Why not go into full dork mode?


Back in Time

I just finished uploading all my old weblogs onto the new WordPress format. It’s been interesting re-reading my reflections from years past.

In March of 2005, I reflected on a great invitation. In May, I wrote of revival and desiring God. In June, I spoke of hope: “If faith is what enables us to step out when God says “Go” not knowing where our destination will be; then hope is what enables us to relax as we take the step, certain that whatever we may encounter on the journey, the end is beyond our wildest dreams.”

Re-reading these posts re-awakens in me a longing. A longing to accept the invitation, to see the face of God, to rest in hope. It makes me long to be a Jacob generation. It makes me desire that the story of my life bring Him honour.

It seems this is my story. Something whets my appetite and I chase after God. Then I get busy or sick or tired or whatever, and I loosen my grasp. I give up wrestling, I escape unscathed.

But that’s not what I want. I want to enter the King’s courts, no longer making light of His invitation. I want to see the King’s face, and reflect His glory. I want to hope in God in this next stage of my life instead of freaking out about jobs and houses and husbands. I want to wrestle with God until He blesses me, not letting go except that He touches my hip and leaves me with a limp. I want my story to be His story.

Why, O why, can I not seem to translate want into action? I used to be able to, didn’t I? I feel like I did. But now I spend my time looking back with sorrow, unable to hope for the future.

Why are you so downcast, O my soul?
Why are you so disturbed?

Put your hope in God.
For I will yet praise Him.


One sick clan

When I started throwing up last night, my first thought was to panic. You see, I teach a food lab—and I was afraid somehow I’d managed to have a case of food poisoning in my lab.

This morning, relief (from my anxiety, not from the ickies) came in the form of an e-mail from my aunt. My cousin and another aunt had the throw-ups last night too.

The e-mails just kept pouring in. My cousin Danny has it. A cousin and uncle have it. Penny’s e-mail intimated that Alice, Sarah, Byron, Adam, and Sharon had it before the funeral.

So apparently we all got it at the funeral.

The sick counts keep rising. I added my name to the roll. Then Daniel added his. An addendum reports that Joshua has it too. Martha wrote that she hasn’t thrown up yet but stayed home because she’s feeling icky. Dad wrote in that Tim and Grace both have it. The last report has come from my aunt in Illinois. Her husband and son have it too.

Basically, we’re one sick clan.

If you think of it, pray for us as we recover. And pray for protection for my grandparents and mom (who is currently staying with Grandma and Grandpa). The last thing they need is this nasty little stomach flu.


Bean Porridge Hot

Laura Ingalls Wilder writes of playing “Bean porridge hot” with her sister in The Little House on the Prairie. She says that the song was true. “No supper was so good as the thick bean porridge, flavored with a small bit of salt pork, that Ma dipped onto the tin plates when Pa had come home cold and tired from his hunting. Laura liked it hot, and she liked it cold, and it was always good as long as it lasted. But it never really lasted nine days. They ate it up before that.”

Soups are like that, I find, which is one of the reasons I love soup so much. A good soup or stew recipe is good the first time, and good the second time, and stays good all the way to the last drop.

I’ve recently found a winner in the Better Homes and Gardens New Flavors from your Crockery Cooker Cookbook.

Beef Cider Stew

This Beef Cider Stew was good when I tasted it the day I made it, good when I had a bowl a day later, and is still good on the fifth day. I doubt I’ll make it to 9 days. Give this fantastic recipe a try!

Beef Cider Stew

Ingredients:

  • 1 lb beef stew meat, cut into 1 inch cubes
  • 1 Tbsp cooking oil
  • 4 carrots or parsnips, sliced
  • 2 medium red-skinned potatoes, cut into chunks
  • 2 onions, halved and sliced
  • 2 apples, cored and cut into chunks
  • 2 stalks celery, chopped
  • 2 Tbsp cook cooking tapioca
  • 1 cup apple cider
  • 1 cup water
  • 2 tsp instant beef bouillon
  • ¼ tsp dried thyme
  • ¼ tsp pepper

Instructions:

  1. Brown meat in hot oil.
  2. Place all vegetables in crockpot. Sprinkle tapioca over top. Add meat. Combine cider, water, and spices and pour over meat.
  3. Cover and cook on low for 8-10 hours or on high for 4-5 hours.

For my own part, I rearranged the instructions a bit. I prepped all my vegetables in the crockpot the night before and moved my precut stew meat from the freezer to the fridge. That way, all I had to do before I left for work in the morning was brown the meat and dump it and the cider/water/spice mix over the top of the veggies (and turn the crockpot on, of course). Easy as pie–and just about as delicious!

What about you? Do you have a favorite soup or stew recipe that you can eat hot, cold, or many days old?


Reading the Aa (Verna Aardema)

Reading My Library I’ve been working on my own quest to read every book in Eiseley Library since September 5, 2006. I’ve been doing it in a remarkably unsystematic way. But when Carrie at Reading to Know decided to read the picture books in her local library and record it at Reading My Library, I was struck by her system.

Not that I’m ready to give up my haphazard approach to the library entirely. But for the picture book section, Carrie’s approach seems incredibly sensible.

So, I went to my library and got every picture book by the first author in the alphabet–who just happened to be Verna Aardema.

Aardema’s signature is retelling folk stories from different cultures, primarily African cultures but with the occasional Latin American culture thrown in. She includes a lot of onomatopoeia, particularly for the sounds animals make.

I was not universally impressed with Aardema’s writings. While none of the books were bad, per say, few of them were really anything special. While the stories were vaguely amusing, most had little point. Silly things happened, the end. I tend to prefer stories that either have a plot or a moral. The majority of Aardema’s stories had neither.

There were two exceptions, however–and those exceptions were pretty exceptional.

Bringing the rain to Kapiti Plain book cover

Bringing the Rain to Kapiti Plain was featured on Reading Rainbow in one of its earliest episodes–and the book certainly deserves it. Bringing the Rain to Kapiti Plain tells of a plain suffering from a drought, and a smart young cow-herder who brought the rain to Kapiti Plain. The book is told in a sing-songy manner that builds an additional line with every page. So when one page starts with “This is the cloud all heavy with rain, that shadowed the ground on Kapiti Plain”, the next page builds with “This is the grass, all brown and dead, that needed the rain from the cloud overhead–The big, black cloud, all heavy with rain, that shadowed the ground on Kapiti Plain.” And so on and so forth. This is a well written, enjoyable tale that is a delight to read.

Koi and the Kola Nuts book cover

Koi and the Kola Nuts is a second jewel from Verna Aardema. Koi is the youngest son of an African chieftan. When his father dies, his brothers get all the inheritance. All that’s left for Koi is one Kola tree. So Kola harvests the nuts from his Kola tree and sets off to make his way in the world. He meets a variety of different animals in various predicaments and has compassion on them, offering them his Kola nuts to solve their problems. When Koi finds himself vying for the hand of a neighboring chieftain’s beautiful daughter, the friends he has won for himself certainly come in handy!

Koi and the Kola Nuts is a story reminiscent of Aesop’s “The Lion and the Mouse” but with fun twists of its own. The story reads like a cross between a traditional fairy tale (where a boy tries to win the hand of a princess) and a fable (where animals teach a moral) with a little Biblical spice added (Koi’s situation at the beginning of the story reminds me of Jacob and Esau receiving a blessing from their father Isaac). Add in Aardema’s characteristic onomatopoeia and you’ve got a winner of a story.

Now, between Aardema and a couple of other authors, I’m done with Aa-Ab. Next up? I don’t know. I guess I’ll just have to see!