...and it's a King Cake baby!

Having lived in Southeast Texas most of my life and New Orleans, too, I have to admit that each year when Mardi Gras approaches, I get excited. Not that we participitate in it anymore, but childhood memories die hard. I remember going to the New Orleans Mardi Gras parades as a child in the early 70s and sitting on my dad's shoulders as I watched the bands and floats go by. We used to go to annual parties decorated with purple, gold and elaborate food, my favorite being the king cake. I wasn't real sure at the time what the grown-ups were doing, but I was always having fun playing with the other kids.
Now I can walk into any grocery store and king cakes bombard the bakery aisles. Our extended family buys several king cakes every year, and the person that gets the 'baby' buys the next cake- this is our standard procedure around Mardi Gras time.
This year is extra special because we get to welcome a new baby boy into the family shortly after Mardi Gras. The dear sweet couple is busy nesting and preparing for their new addition to the family (believe it or not, I'm nesting, too). This is the mom's first child, and as every expectant mother does, she has her set of normal fears. But I just had to share her dream with you (thanks for her permission). I remember having strange dreams while pregnant, so this one doesn't seem too far-fetched to me. I mean- weird dreams and worries- no wonder.

Anyway, the expectant mother dreamed she gave birth to...the king cake baby! And when she tried to nurse it, the little one fell down her shirt...and she couldn't find it. Oh my! Every mother's worse nightmare, or close to it. I'm just grateful she didn't swallow the little peanut.
I only wish I could reassure her that everything will be fine, but sometimes we have to learn these things for ourselves. I LOVE YOU (you know who). I'm off to buy a king cake now.

Most of the time...

Most of the time I love Saturdays. I say most of the time because sometimes Saturdays can get hectic with the kids' schedules, or Pete might get called into work on a Saturday. But most of the time, Saturdays are the only day during the week that I get to sleep in. Not only do I get to stay in bed as long as I want, but Pete cooks breakfast on Saturdays. His pancakes are the best, I might add.

Not only do I get a reprieve from breakfast, but Pete usually grills on Saturdays as well. His hamburgers are out of this world, and most of the time he makes homemade coleslaw (the best ever) to go with the meal.

Last night we had hotdogs and sausage on the grill with the coleslaw. I was preparing the buns when I noticed the coleslaw didn't have any tomatoes in it. Sometimes Pete purposely leaves out tomatoes, but I really like the added flair the red brings to the dish (not really- I just love tomatoes), so I asked him about it. He said if I can find a tomato in the fridge, I could add it. I knew we had one, and after searching vigorously for a few minutes, I found a Roma tomato. I diced it up, but the small tomato didn't seem to be enough. I looked in the fridge again and saw a baggie with a pickle, ONE slice of tomato and some lettuce (I keep handy for the kids). I grabbed the wee little slice, chopped it up and dumped it in the coleslaw just as Pete came in with the meat.

As we were eating, Pete gets this bitter look on his face and says, "Who added pickle to my coleslaw?"

I could not believe that one little slice of tomato with probably not even a miniscule amount of pickle juice on it could make a difference, but apparently it did. But, Pete got over it...at least until lunch today.

Splurge Prayer
by Laurie Kolp

Now I sit me down to eat;
I pray this splurge won’t cause defeat.
If I should gain a little weight;
I’ll know the Key Lime pie was great.

The New ME
by Laurie Kolp

My window brings me
great comfort...

through the glass
and beyond the
smeared pawprints,
I see hope-
blue skies,
green grass,
blooming flowers,
hungry birds;
promises of spring,
new birth,
new life,
new attitudes,
new goals;
breaking through
the gray, dark days
of winter's wrath-
the new me
I'd like to be...

my window brings me
great comfort.

Drum roll, please...

Here's our chicken! I have Pete so enthralled in the whole thing, that when he came home from work to find the chicken on our porch eating birdseed, he knew he'd better get some pictures. I was at the school with the camera in my purse (I have not separated from it since this started), so Pete had to find his work camera and put his clever hunting skills to work in order to capture these photos. I am sure Pete looked much more suave sneaking around our neighbors' yards silently like he knew what he was doing, as opposed to my impatient dash to get the picture before I lost the chicken!

Then when we got home after school Pete greeted us at the door and said he had a surprise for us on the computer. Voila- there was the chicken. I could not wait to fill you in. Any ideas for a name?

My chicken chase

If you passed by and saw me running around like a chicken with its head cut off this morning, it's because I practically was. I was chasing THE chicken...that came back...with my camera. Please forgive me for looking so crazy, I'm really not (yet). You probably saw me leave my car running halfway in my driveway, halfway in the street, door open, camera in hand and ready to go. I'm sure you saw me dash through my neighbor's yard, pause for a minute and then take off running again. You might have also seen me sneak up to the house two doors down, tiptoe up to the front door and very quietly stoop beneath the bushes. Next, I'm sure you saw me take off full speed, camera in the air trying to snap a picture before the poor, scared chicken finally flew off. SIGH. I'm going to get a picture of that sucker if it's the last thing I do. So please be patient with me.

P.S. We do not live in the country. In fact we live in the middle of the city on a busy street, which makes this whole thing so bizarre!

A wild "chicken" chase

I don't know what it is about our front flowerbed, but I do know it is the source of a lot of interesting stories. This one definitely tops the cat story.

I was pulling into the driveway this morning with Katie and Nicholas and Dunkin' Donuts in tow. My eyes were instantly drawn to a bird under the bird feeder. This was not a cardinal, nor a dove or even a crow. This bird was HUGE and it was plucking away at birdseed with a squirrel right next to it.

We all sat in total amazement staring at the strange bird, not a word coming from our mouths. When we finally opened the car doors, I thought the bird would fly off, but it just stood there unfazed. We got out of the car and just stood there, too. Pete finally came out to see if we had gone crazy, and I pointed frantically to the bushes and whispered "LOOK," my finger waving nonstop. By that time the bird, or CHICKEN as I soon found out (I thought it was a rooster) was waddling to the next yard.

Pete stopped and talked to a neighbor who was staring at the chicken, too. He said others had spotted the bird roaming the neighborhood lately. Sam's theory is that the bird is a Mardi Gras chicken to be caught and made into gumbo. Nicholas wanted to catch and shoot it so we could have chicken for dinner.

By the time I had my camera, Mr. Chicken was long gone, which I told Pete was good because I had never gotten so close to a real chicken before and that I was a little "chicken" about the whole thing. Plus, I did not want to go on a wild CHICKEN chase. Pete got in his car to try and find the chicken so he could take a picture for me, but he had no luck either. So if you find a chicken running around town completely lost, it probably is.

But Pete did share a chicken story with me. His father and step-mother lived in a house in New York next to a fraternity house. One morning, Joan woke up and found a baby chicken in their front yard. They ended up turning this chicken into a pet and kept it for years (in a cage in the backyard). They later found out that the fraternity had had a scavenger hunt the night before the baby chicken was found, and one of the items was a farm animal. Either nobody found the chicken, or they just decided not to keep it.

I'm not sure I could eat a chicken I found in my yard, but I know I couldn't keep it as a pet either. The dogs would go crazy...

Suicide
by Laurie Kolp

Suicide is…
a permanent solution to
a temporary feeling.

Suicide takes…
a piece of our hearts
that nothing can replace.

Suicide leaves…
loved ones lost
forever wondering why.

Suicide causes…
shattered memories
that truth can never erase.

*I have lost a very dear friend to suicide, a brother to a friend, and now a father to one of my children's friends. I only wish we could stop the pain, prevent the damage and help those suffering so nobody else would have to go through the agonizing pain that those left behind have to deal with for the rest of their lives.

Cat on the prowl

Okay, so I'm sitting at the computer going through my nightly activities when a horrible sound fills the room.

Is it the kids? No, they're sleeping.

Did Pete turn on the radio for his shower? I think not.

Then I hear the loud sound again and recognize it at once. I am drawn to the big window at the front of our house and take a look. Sure enough, there it sits- all cunning and majestic- right under my precious birdfeeder. You guessed it- a cat! I stare at the big orange tabby staring back at me and quickly close the curtains. Then I slowly open the curtains just enough to take another peak, and the cat is still there looking at me.

I rush to the back of the house to grab my hero before he steps into the shower, but Katie stops me. She heard the cat, too. In fact, she said she heard two last night right outside her window, which is where, I might add, my birds live. We dash to the front window to look out and this time I pull open the curtains far enough for both of us to see the cat.

The cat looks at us for a minute and then dashes off to the bushes in front of Katie's window.

"Awww, how cute. Can we give it some water?" asks Katie.

Are you kidding? All I can say is that tomorrow morning my cardinals better still be there to wake me up. I like cats, but I love birds.

Another miracle...

A blessed ACTS sister from my church had this to say, and I simply could not pass up the opportunity to share it:

"When I first saw pictures of Haiti after the earthquake and (that) the people who were still alive would soon be dying if somehow food, water and medical supplies were not brought in quickly, I thought of the miracle that Jesus performed with the 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish. If only we had Jesus here. If only someone could start passing around the little food the Haitians found, and it would be multiplied enough to feed everyone.

Didn't Jesus tell us that we, the followers of Him, would also do these things, in fact, even do greater things! (John 14:12)

Jesus was one person, yet He fed thousands. We, as the Body of Christ, can also feed thousands, and I am encouraged and made stronger in faith, as I see the outpouring of humanitarian relief to the Haitians. I just heard on the news that the USA citizens have donated 210 million dollars, even though our economy is suffering and people are out of work. This is more that double what our government offered, which will also be paid by 'the people'. So, in effect, we are doing what Jesus said we could do!
God bless America and God bless Haiti."

God is all around us. I hope we can all take a minute from our busy lives to witness His grace everywhere. I know I am much happier, peaceful, and content when I do! I hope you can feel His love, too. God bless.

FLAME
by Laurie Kolp

I watch the flicker of the flame
mesmerizing and methodical,
dancing to the melody
of my heart.

The warm soft candle’s glow
arouses and awakens
emotions I‘ve had
torn apart.

Yet I feel the light
comfort and console
as I close my eyes
and start to pray.

The warmth, the glow,
and ease of emotions
uncovers new hope-
this is God’s way.

The Cub Scout Pinewood Derby was today. I'm pretty sure it washed away any leftover grief Andrew had from yesterday's spelling bee because he got second place in his den, second place overall and first place in the open class race. Pete got third place in the open class (a race at the end that anyone can compete in). Pete should feel proud, though, because of the twelve cars in the final competition, he helped build the three cars that placed.

Nicholas was disappointed that his car did not place this year, but he got an award for the "red-hottest car." Andrew generously gave one of his second place trophies to Nicholas, who won't put it down.

The boys had a great day at this annual scout event and Katie and I enjoyed watching the races. It is always refreshing to see good sportsmanship being used. As far as I'm concerned, everyone who participated is a winner.