The Cheater's Guide to Cross stitch

I had a picture that was okay, but nothing very interesting given to me by a relative when they cleaned out their office and switched jobs.  I would love to replace it but had nothing of a size to fit the mat/frame so it hung on the wall undisturbed until I found my cross stitch, with which I had had a dubious flirtation, to quote Spock, in my relative youth.  I had made one large piece (which had taken years) and gave it away in college to a beloved teacher, otherwise I had only dabbled in the art.  Going through a forgotten corner of a forgotten closet I came across a Monet, albeit not a painting but a barely begun stamped cross stitch aida clothe with one of his 'water lily' designs upon it.  About eight years ago I thought it would be fun to try it again, though I had never done a 'stamped' pattern before, I fell in love with the colors and the design and bought the kit, only to discover that the stamped one was even worse than the true 'counted' cross stitch as now I not only had to count little tiny boxes but most were an absurd kaleidoscope of colors which quickly induced a seizure, a migraine, or very possibly both.  So 7.5 years ago it got put in the box of unfinished cross-stitchy things and was soon forgotten.  There was also a partially finished Amish type sampler that will remain so indefinitely unless one of my kids gets a freak to finish it one day, but the Monet was still pretty, if barely stitched, it seemed a shame to let it molder in that box.

It also fit perfectly in that frame, with a little surgery on the mat, and yes I will call it surgery as I used a scalpel to cut the mat, one of these days I will invest in an exacto-knife.  I ironed my Monet (how many people can say they've done that?), enlarged the opening in the mat, and voila!  I now had a very pretty, pseudo embroidered picture.  You have to look really close to see that the whole thing isn't actually stitched.  So if you like the look of cross-stitch but haven't the knack, the patience, or the time, you can invest in a 'stamped' kit of your choosing, throw in a few stitches if you'd like, or just frame the picture and call it good, just don't enter it in any embroidery contests!

In-laws and Out-laws

When it comes to family, I'm still an amateur.  I grew up in a fractured, abusive home and had little conception of what a normal, healthy marriage or family looked like until I was in the middle of my own.  Enter the in-laws, a concept that has frustrated and confounded people since the Dawn of Time.  I always dread a visit either to their house or them to ours, but am still trying to figure out why.  Usually I love company, and they aren't bad people, but for some reason I dread the very thought of our next interlude.  I think I've finally figured out the mystery, at least in my own case, I'm afraid most everyone else will have to unravel their own enigma for themselves.

When they see my son, their only grandchild, they fall upon him like ancient pagans their god.  They wrest control from us, his parents, and place it lovingly at his feet.  Not only does this turn the social order of our house upside down, but it also nicely divides our little family into them and us.  We follow my son from room to room (and as a toddler, he is a perfect little dictator) as some sort of entourage, with them oohing and cooing adulation with every breath he takes.  We could sit in the living room by ourselves and let them do their thing, but that seems quite antisocial.  They were fine before the grandson came along, we could actually have a conversation and they took some interest in our lives, but now, he is the reason they live and any interference with that is met with complaints of how intolerant and insensitive we are to their feelings, how little they get to see him...

As an abused kid without a real family, I've come to adore quiet, happy family life, and I resent when other people come in and upset the proverbial apple cart.  Why can't they be part of our family, join the harmonious whole, rather than divide and conquer?  I lived my whole life with an 'us versus them' mentality when it came to family life and I hate seeing it take root anew in my own little nest, I feel a stranger in my own house.  Grandma went so far as to say that it is 'her right to coddle…'  Wait a second!  We are the parents, stop right there!  You have no rights save those we grant you.  I am unwittingly forfeiting control to her as much as they willingly forfeit it to the conquistador of their hearts and reason!  But he is not in charge, nor is she, I am!  Too bad you can't put the in-laws in time out…maybe things will be a little better once I figure out I'm not a doormat and my feelings matter too, albeit it must be done in a respectful and thoughtful manner so as not to hurt them or drive a wedge between us, but somebody needs to be the adult.

Who needs TV?

Modern folk often wonder how people survived before TV.  The answer is simple: they had kids.  You never know what your small tyke is going to say next, and usually it is pretty amusing, except when it is in public and then it's just embarrassing.  At least the plot lines were a whole lot more original!

Sympathizing with Super Man

"You're good at this," said the lady with a teasing smile, "did you go to school for it?"

I just hefted my garbage sack and threw in the soiled plates and cups, returned her smile, and went on to the next table wondering what they'd think if I told them I had a doctorate; they'd probably have a good chuckle at the irony, I know I do.

I love being an incognito doctor, posing as just another stay-at-home mom or the quiet little wife of a small town pastor.  For some reason people equate my career with my identity, as if I have no interests or personality outside of the office.  They can't fathom that I'd rather talk about anything else than their cat's chronic vomiting issues.  Do plumbers or engineers or brain surgeons have this problem?  It's not that I don't like cats, or my job, it's just that I have a life outside of work and would much rather talk about other things, like just about anybody else whose work is not their life and vice versa.  So I pretend to be a nobody, just another Joe-Smoe, completely uninteresting and dull.  But it is rather priceless to watch the surprise when someone discovers my secret, at which point I flee the room as they approach at the run to get my opinion on corn in dog food.

I completely understand why Super Man chose the unobtrusive Clark Kent as his alter ego.  He couldn't just be himself as the superhero, all they saw was the man in the cape, whereas Clark could actually have a life, relationships, and talk to people without them getting all weird.  I wonder if celebrities wish they could doff the fame and just be nobody for a while?  We're all trying to be celebrities on social media, to make our lives interesting or attractive to others, but why?  Who cares?  If you enjoy your life, isn't that enough?  Do you really want people to gawk and gape and stare as if you were some sort of sideshow attraction?  As for me, I'll just don my Clark Kent glasses and vanish happily into the milling crowd.  Are you done with that plate?

Mint Brownies

Use this as a topping on your favorite brownie recipe or to dress up a box mix; covers a 9x13 cake pan worth of brownies.  It is both pretty and delicious!

For mint cream:

Beat together 2 cups powdered sugar, 1/2 cup softened butter or margarine, 1 tbsp water, 1/2 tsp mint extract, and 3 drops of green food coloring.  Spread over cooled brownies.

For Chocolate topping:

In a microwave safe bowl melt 1 cup chocolate chips and 6 tbsp butter, stirring every 30 seconds until smooth.  Cool slightly and spread over mint topping.  Refrigerate until firm and store in the fridge.

Peanut Butter Fudge

I don't know where my mother found this recipe, but it is a family favorite for as long as I can remember, though I've made a few alterations for convenience and personal preference: namely leaving out the candied cherries and adapting it to the microwave.  It freezes well and makes a big pan.

2 1/2 cups white sugar
3/4 cup butter (use the real thing!)
2/3 cup evaporated milk
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 cup creamy peanut butter (I've had the best luck with Jif)
1 7oz jar marshmallow cream
1 tsp vanilla
1 12oz bag M&Ms

In a large microwave safe mixing bowl combine sugar, butter, milk, and salt.  Microwave on high for 8 1/2 minutes (may take more or less time depending on your microwave) stirring every 2-3 minutes, watching that it does not boil over.  Remove from the microwave (will be extremely hot, use oven mitts) and stir in peanut butter until melted, at this point it may or may not look really creamy and wonderful.  If it has a weird curdled texture, don't worry, it will still taste great, I think it is just that some of the oils separate from the peanut butter, which didn't happen with the Jif but I've seen it with other brands.  Stir in the marshmallow creme and the vanilla and mix until blended then add the M&Ms.  Pour into a 9x13 inch cake pan and allow to cool.  Cut into squares and serve or freeze.  I keep mine in the fridge so it is more firm when eaten.  If it doesn't set properly, increase the microwave time with the next batch, and stick this batch in the freezer to improve consistency.

Philosophical musings not worth the effort

The in-laws have left, the christmas paraphernalia is safely sequestered for another year, and there are no lurking holidays more dangerous than Groundhog's day to be dealt with in the near future so it must be time to hibernate.  Except that's not really an option, which seems a little speciest to me, just because I'm not a skunk doesn't mean I couldn't use a 'long winter's nap,' but that's a whole other post.  Everyone seems to be bracing for the cold front moving in, but it is January on the northern plains so I'm not sure what everyone is so excited about; this happens every year.  Yes it may get down to -14F one night and the windchill will dip to -30, but compared to other places I've lived, that is almost tropical (I've seen a three week period where the high was -14 with wind chills in the -50's).  Did I mention I walked to school in it, up hill both ways?  I'm not that old, at least I hope not, but then I predate the internet, wait, did the world even exist before the internet?  Maybe I'd best just stick to complaining about the weather...