Who is wearing the pants?

You know your day is going to start well when you spill half a cup of coffee in your lap as you are pulling out of the driveway, and you don't really have time to change before you leave because you are supposed to be at a press conference 110 miles away in two hours.

I was pretty crabby about it at first. I mean, it WAS hot coffee that seeped and soaked into my pants and more. (This is the literal version of sitting in the "hot seat," by the way.) But once my coworker, Sandy, and I got down the road a ways, I was able to start making a few jokes about it. By the time we made it to the press conference, I was semi-dry, I could stand and air myself out a little and I am happy to report that the press conference went off without a hitch. (I may have been emitting a strong coffee odor, but if I was, everyone was keeping it to themselves.)

Several hours later, I'm back in the office, reliving the spill and aftermath with a "this is SO typical of you, Dawn" smile on my face.

And I'm very happy that I chose to wear black pants for this particular event.

Man, I'm dying for a cup of coffee right now.

Dawn

We ate ears

Have you ever wondered why they call them "ears" of corn? Well, I really didn't, until I wrote this headline. Then it got me thinking.

So, of course, I had to "google" it. Take your pick (hee! hee!)....

Answer.ask.com

Pantagraph.com

Wiki.answers.com

But whatever the reason, we ate those ears, and man-oh-man were they tasty!! Pair 'em with some beans, and slow-cooked ribs and you have yourself a pretty outstanding meals.

The ears were harvested slightly earlier in the day from our meager garden (corn, pumpkins, a few carrots and exactly three onions) and shucked by my 8-year-old daughter and yours truly, (Incidentally, I employed the best shucking method as suggested by Ochef, and I didn't even realize it at the time: Ochef Q&A on shucking. Once shucked and desilked (as much as you can desilk) I put the ears in a kettle of cold water with about a tablespoon of sugar, heated them to boiling and boiled for just two minutes, then left to rest for another 10.

They were done just right and we had no trouble polishing them off in short order.

But now I want more, and there are no more ready. At least we can look forward to another eating of the ears in a week or two.

Dawn

Lily Moon

I took this picture two evenings ago, not expecting much. But I kinda like it. Of course the moon doesn't look nearly as big and cool as it did with the naked eye (as opposed to the clothed one, I guess) but it still has a nice quality to it that makes you look twice.

I love these clear evenings when the sun is setting and the moon is rising and the horizon goes from a bunch of brilliant yellows and oranges to blues and pinks. It just makes me sigh, happy to be part of the wide open spaces we call North Dakota.

Dawn

The lilies will have to wait

I started the morning reading a blog from Ree Drummond about her Kewpie Doll son. And I just read a post on Rasmussen by Susan Estrich about Leaving Home and suddenly, I am struck by the "bookend" nature of these two posts from entirely different people. Why did I start the day with one and finish the day with another? Were the cosmos once again trying to remind me of something?

Obviously, I took it that way. Because right now, I am struck by just how much I love my children, and at the same time realizing how little time I have before they are off looking to spread their wings and do their own thing. So the moon over lilies will have to wait (besides, I forgot the camera!).

I spent the noon hour at an open house at my daughter's school so she could meet her third-grade teacher.

Third grade. My baby is in third grade. It seems like just yesterday she was writing, "I luv yoo, Mom" on little notes. Now she only wants hugs and kisses when "the general public" is not looking.

My newly minted teenage son stands a good three inches taller than me and worries about that nasty stuff that I worried about at his age, like peer pressure and bullies and feeling like you are the weirdest person in the world. At least he still feels like he can talk to me about it. I cherish that, because I know it is not always the case.

My office is filled with pictures, mostly drawn by my daughter, of barns and pigs and R.V.s and flowers and butterflies. But, there is a pretty artsy stick T-Rex blowing bubbles that my son drew when he was five. I had the presence to write it on the paper so I would remember how old he was. I look at it and smile through tears.

My babies are growing up. And all I can do is hope that I'm there to help them on their journey with love and patience and kindness, and maybe just a little bit of an attitude!

And I just can't go without sharing the T-Rex blowing bubbles...
























Dawn

After a rain

I have seen a lot of things more recently that I have been compelled to photograph. Maybe it's the waning summer getting me all emotional or something, but I have been struck by the beauty of very simple things lately.

Like the waterdrop on this leaf.




















My photo doesn't really do it justice, but I noticed it, sitting under the table on the porch and it was just so simple and cool and unexpected and inspiring. I mean, how do you look at something like that and not wonder how it happened, how it got there, what forces it took for that little leaf and that drop of water to be in just the right place at the right time to create such a simple little treasure?

Or, maybe I'm just weird!

Tomorrow, moonrise over lilies!

Dawn

Gag reflex

I was watching an episode of Mythbusters the other night and watched as two guys gagged as the lady in the group was melting earwax. They wanted to determine if earwax would burn like a candle. As they wretched and nearly upchucked, she watched in amused silence. I laughed so hysterically my son called down from upstairs, "Mom, are you okay?"

That got me to thinking. Either they edited out her gags to make the guys look "wimpy" or she has a tougher "constitution" than the guys. Of course, being of the female persuasion, I assumed it was the latter.

It takes a lot to make me gag. In fact, the last time I actually remember gagging because of something nasty was when I was about 13 and I had to clean up some cat poo in the basement. I ended up gagging and throwing up right on the cat poo.

I'm much.....much older and have had to clean up a bunch of nasties and haven't even so much as felt an "urp."

So I have this theory: I think woman, overall, have stronger stomachs than men, and I think the reason for this is because we have so much "gaggage" to deal with on a regular basis.

That's my deep thought for Friday.

Hope your weekend is gag free!

Dawn

The sun has set, not long ago

For the past couple evenings, the sunsets have been pretty spectacular on My Two Acres. My little camera doesn't do the magnitude of her (is the sun a she or a he or is the jury still out?) beauty justice, but you get an idea, anyway.

That's one thing about wide open spaces that I think I would really miss: incredibly awesome sunsets.




















And by the way, "The sun has set, not long ago," is the first line of "The Going to Bed Book" by Sandra Boynton. My son just loved that book when he was little. I still love it.

Happy sunsets and happy memories to you!

Dawn

Silver linings

I'll let the picture do the talkin' today!



























Dawn

Let's give the trousers a chance

Have you ever wondered how an urban legend starts? I mean, I remember hearing the one about how you shouldn't throw rice at weddings because if birds eat the rice it will kill them.

If you haven't heard this one, the explanation for why it kills them is that the rice swells up inside the bird's stomach and blows it up.

It sounded plausible.

So I stopped throwing rice at weddings.

For years, I didn't throw rice. Then I read -- in a reputable book -- that the whole blowing up birds with rice thing was a bunch of hooey.

I was duped! But it made a certain amount of sense. So I believed it, without question.

How many things do you take as fact each day that are absolutely false? Or that might have a grain of truth, but have been retold and added to, so what was once simple information has become the reason for the end of the world as we know it?

Here's one about canola oil that just makes me mad....

www.snopes.com/medical/toxins/canola.asp

People are always looking for the smoking gun, making leaps when they should be taking baby steps, and are quick to believe that someone is trying to do them harm, usually out of greed.

It seems people are even starting to believe that about farmers.

I quote from a study done in Illinois: "Extensive research from April to July showed the Illinois farmer is still held in substantial esteem by the public. But research also showed consumers have reduced trust in modern farming techniques and profound doubts about how their food is produced." Read the whole article here: Illinois farmer image campaign announced.

Seems they think most of their food is raised on "corporate farms" and we all know the negative connotation of "corporate farms." But the truth is, most farms are still owned by families. Granted they're bigger than they used to be, but bigger doesn't make them bad.

I'm glad to see farmers and ranchers and farm organizations work together to clear up these misconceptions, because there seem to be more and more of them all the time, and unless we set the record straight, and keep at it, it will only get worse.

Farming is tough enough the way it is. We don't need to add a bunch of misinformation to the mix that makes it tougher to provide our food and fiber.

So the next time you hear something bad about agriculture, please ask questions and do some checking before you log it as fact.

As Winston Churchill once said, "A lie can travel halfway across the planet in the time the truth is still putting on its trousers."

Let's give the trousers a chance, shall we?

Dawn

Top five signs you're gettin' old

These are simply personal observations; things I have experienced, recently, that remind me I'm not a spring chicken any more...

5. Your dentist sends you a "how to make your smile look more youthful" brochure after your last visit there. (Can we say dentures, anyone?)

4. Your chiropractor makes jokes about your advancing age as you shuffle into the room because you hurt your back.

3. You hurt your back leaning over to put something in the refrigerator.

2. You look under your bifocals to see things up close.

1. You hand the thing you are trying to look at up close to your 13-year-old son, because you just can't make out what it says.

But you know what? I'm not complaining about any of it. Okay, I may be complaining a little about my sore back. But on the upside, I get to lay around on an ice pack this evening and have my kids pick stuff up off the floor instead of me.

Age DOES have its advanteges!

Dawn

A piece of cake

My son turned 13 today, and wanted a red cake to celebrate the event.

After determining that I wasn't going to be able to take the easy way out and find a box mix, I frantically called my mother last night to get the family red cake recipe. She couldn't find it, but suggested that I contact my aunt, Pam, who has become the resident red cake-making guru of the family.

So I did, and I have to tell you, under her expert advice, my first attempt at Red Cake turned out amazingly well. Oh, it was messy and I had a few crumbs in the frosting, but overall, I'm pretty happy with the results.






















I don't know if I'm giving away any family secrets, but this is really good cake, and if I can make it and have it turn out on my first attempt, better bakers could make it pretty awesome. So I'm going to share.

Red Cake
Cut wax paper to fit two cake pans. Grease the bottoms of the two cake pans. Place the wax paper in the greased pans and then grease and lightly flour the top of the wax paper.

Cream:
1 1/2 cups white sugar
1/2 cup Crisco
2 eggs

Cream a very long time. Until is is "super creamy."

Add 2 1/2 cups cake flour
1 cup buttermilk
1 oz red food coloring
1 oz. water
2 tablespoons cocoa
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon of soda in 1 tablespoon of white vinegar.

Mix well. Divide and put into the two cake pans. Bake for approximately 30-35 minutes at 350 degrees, or until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean.

Frosting
In a saucepan on medium heat, gradually add 1 cup of milk to 5 tablespoons of all-purpose flour. Stir until thickened. Place in refrigerator to cool.

Cream 1 cup sugar, 1 cup room-temperature butter and 1 teaspoon vanilla. (And once again, cream until you have a super-creamy concoction.) Mix with cooled flour/milk mixture.

Once the cakes have cooled, cut each cake in half, so you have four layers. Frost each layer. (Do not frost the sides, just the top of each layer.)

It's good stuff. I promise it's worth the mess! Especially for your new teenager. Heavens knows the teen years are tough enough. A family-tradition comfort food seems like a perfect gift.

Dawn

P.S. THANK YOU, Pam!!!

Reading FAIL

There is definitely one way in which I never want my children to follow my example: Reading. Yep. I have exhibited, to use the hip term, reading FAIL. (I am not hip, but I like to pretend I am hip in my mind.)

I used to read. Vociferously.

The teen sleuth, Trixie Belden? Had every single one of those books. I remember some of them being VERY hard to come by. And when I finally got them? I pretty much thought I was ten feet tall and bullet-proof.

I wanted to BE Trixie and read those stories over and over, always picturing myself the sleuth that solved the mystery.

Then something happened. I grew up and found that I never seemed to have time to lose myself in a book. Too many of life's interruptions seemed to interrupt me.

My kids both still can lose themselves in books. I hope they always take the time to do so, even when they are all grown up and think everything else is more important.

Stamp out reading fail! Lose yourself in a good book.

Your mother in spirit...

Dawn

Epiphanies

Do you ever suddenly realize some things about yourself? I have had a couple of epiphanies the last few days for some reason. Maybe people, or the cosmic waves, or whatever it's all about, have been trying to tell me these things for a long time. But finally, for whatever reason, my brain has allowed the concepts to actually connect and make an impact in the gray matter between my ears that seems to be getting grayer all the time.

Here are just a few:

Just because someone asks me a question doesn't mean I have to know the answer. In fact, it's probably better for all involved for me to say once in a while, "I don't know," and leave it at that.

I can ask for help and get a positive response.

I am not patient behind the wheel unless I have Pink Floyd or The Police tunes cranked.

I don't trust other drivers to be paying attention.

I'm pretty brave in a go-cart when I know there is no way I can tip it over.

I am a magnet for funny little boys (no older than three) who want to chase me in the swimming pool, pretending to be sharks.

I am more afraid of the pain that COULD happen when you fall off a bicycle and you can't catch yourself because your foot is entombed in some contraption designed to keep your foot from flying off the pedals -- than I am of having my feet flying off the pedals because I'm going too fast.

20 miles per hour down a hill on a bicycle is kinda creepy.

I'm big on "eyeballing" stuff and figure, "Hey, if I can't tell it's crooked, it's really not crooked."

People who live in towns or even in suburbs haven't really lived until they have constructed their very own fort in a grove of trees or built a ramshackle raft that barely floats.

As a former farm girl, it's very easy to write "barley" when you mean "barely."

Having your son say, "I'm just like you," when you tell him about your days building forts and making swimming holes for frogs, feels really, really good.

A kiss blown and a wink from your daughter makes everything right in the world.

I'm sure I will have more of these epiphanies, but there is only so much my gray matter can take in any given time period before I get all teary and "brain lubricant" starts to leak out my nose.

And heaven "nose" I need all the help I can get with that gray matter stuff!

Dawn

Fairy-schmairy

Back on "oops, today is the day those taxes are due day" I shared that we had a fungus among us, or rather our lawn did, called "fairy ring."

Then we got some rain and for a long time, those rings didn't show up. But the hot, humid weather has really reminded us just how infested the yard has become.

Horticulture expert Ron Smith says the disease will eventually run its course, but in the meantime -- unless you want to dig up the whole yard, remove the infected soil and replace it with sterile soil -- there are a few things you can do to mask the symptoms; fertilizing, core aerating and watering, but not too much on the fertilizer or water.

So yesterday, my husband aerated the soil and I went around yanking out the toadstools that line the rings and started watering. In 90+ degree heat.

Someone please remind me how wonderful fairies are, will you?

Dawn

The great petunia takeover

I absolutely LOVE petunias. You plant one, and you have flowers all summer long. You also have a bunch more at the end of the season than you did at the beginning.

Take these petunias.

I planted the red ones. The rest just grew from seed from last year.

To be honest, I'm tickled pink....

and red.....

and purple.....

and white.

Dawn

Conehead

When it comes to word association, I sometimes find that my associations can be slightly...... well, for lack of a better word, weird. Or maybe not. I'll give you an example. You tell me.

The other day, I took a picture of the blossom of a purple coneflower in my wildflower bed.

When I reviewed the picture, the first thing that came to mind was, "Hey, it's a conehead" which then got me to thinking about the "Coneheads" skit that appeared frequently on Saturday Night Live ("We are from France.") many years ago. Before I knew it, I was googling "Coneheads" and reading transcripts from the Coneheads skits.

And it all started with this simple picture.





















So, the next time you hear the word "conehead" will you think of me? We can only hope!

Dawn