Gobble, Gobble! (aka, Fa Ra Ra Ra Raaaaaaa, Ra Raaa Raaa Raaaaa)

With only one day off of work for Thanksgiving, who wants to spend it cooking and cleaning?   Well, Rip probably does, but I would certainly rather not.  Let's let someone ELSE handle all that dirty work!

So we were OFF to Knollwood!  An 11:00 am lunch reservation for 4, please!

They had little crafts at the tables. . .

Just LOOK at that awesome spread.  I promise you, we wouldn't have had all that food at our house!

Then after a few hours back at the house for naps, we headed out to buy a Christmas tree!

(Um, wouldn't have been necessary if Rip hadn't gone POSTAL on our old one.

But whatever.  It was old, anyway.  He's entitled the occasional outburst.)

And since we were out, and had already done two unusual things on Thanksgiving Day (lunch out, followed by shopping), we decided to REALLY go for broke and eat dinner out.

At IHOP!

Fa Ra Ra Ra Raaaaaaaa,

Ra Raaaaaa

Raaaaaaaa

RAAAAAAAA!

It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!

We went to the PUMPKIN PATCH as a family!  "Nana" (aka Christina, or sometimes ChristinaBobina) came to Indiana to visit, so a festive trip to the local pumpkin patch was in order.

Actually, it was a pumpkin FARM.

Well, actually, it was a CUCURBIT farm.  I had to ask my mom what that was, and then I looked it up just to confirm.  Just so you know, it's "a member of the gourd family."  So, squash, pumpkins, cucumbers, and watermelons would count.  But there were no watermelons.  Just a whole buncha pumpkins.  Not sure how often anybody needs to know how to use the word "cucurbit," but it's certainly a good conversation starter.  Or stumper!!  Tee heeeeee!

(P.S.  Mom was totally right on about the definition.  How do moms always know this stuff?  Kudos to you, Mom!!)

Both of the boys were almost as excited about the wheelbarrow as they were about the pumpkins.  Although I think Mason would have liked to take one of these 400 pound beauties home!

Sadly, while we each chose a pumpkin, we never managed to get them carved.  I was SO excited about my three cute little white pumpkins. . .I had big plans to paint them.  But somehow, we juuuuuuust couldn't get around to it.  Maybe we'll make pies out of them for Thanksgiving.

SHOWDOWN SUNDAY!

We are a blended family. . .






Rip comes from a long line of Aggies, and I am a proud Boilermaker who bleeds black & gold.


What are the chances this would happen?



This is a BIG day for the Ray family. . .BOILER UP! GIG 'EM AGGIES!




(Will one of us have to sleep on the couch tonight? We shall see!)

G is for Giving

Remember my brilliant idea to do "alphabet activities" with Mason? Ummmmm. . yea. Remember how the last activity I posted about was in, I dunno, like October?

Okay. . .so clearly I'm not the best about keeping up with this. But we DID get through the letter "G." In December. I suppose this is a bit (a lot?) delinquent, but I figure it's better late than never. I'll try to be better with "H!!!"

Before Christmas, we took Mason to pick out a child from the "angel tree." Before we had kids. Rip and I used to make an annual event of shopping for children in need. Always one boy, one girl. This year, we wanted Mason to "run the show," so we let him pick. It was so heartwarming to see him deliberate, then choose one name from the tree. He chose a preschool-aged girl who asked for a "Little People Playset." He was so excited to shop for her and pick out something he thought she'd like.

Even though it was for a girl who probably dreamed of the Little People Happy Sounds House, Mason just KNEW she would want the farm. He was very insistent, so we let him select the farm.

I think the most special moment of the experience was watching Mason pay for the gift. We give him $1 in assorted coins every week, and he must divide it into "spend" (50%), "save" (40%) and "give" (10%) piggy banks. After the whole year, he had $4 in change in his "give" bank. Which he proudly carried around WalMart in a Ziploc bag, then gave to the cashier like a champ.

He was so proud that we didn't let him see us secretly slipping the cashier our credit card to pay the difference between his $4 contribution and the cost of the farm!

As soon as we got home, we talked about what we had just done, and asked him if he knew why it was important. I almost cried when he said "some little girls and boys have parents who don't have very much money for food or presents. We helped them have a Christmas, too." Oh, what a sweet boy!

And of course, we practiced the letter "G." G is for giving!

Grand Saline, here we come!

Oh, how I love, love, LOVE to scrapbook. You'd think I could get it done at home occasionally, given that I have a scrapbook room and all, but it's just not that easy with two curious "helpers" on my trail all the time. One of whom seems to enjoy eating paper. It seems that the only way I can get any scrapbooking done is to LEAVE TOWN!

So, about twice a year, Lara and I meet up and spend a long weekend at one of these (delightful) B&B's to scrapbook. Initially, we went for two nights. We've now started going for three nights, and we're hoping to start going for (gasp!) FOUR nights next time.

These retreats are the absolute best. We show up, promptly get our piles of stuff we'll never use necessities set up, change into our jammies, and get to work.

You know what else is so great about scrapbook retreats? They FEED YOU! I'm not talking about sandwiches and chips. I'm talking about hot breakfast casseroles, homemade waffles, roasts, delicious veggies that smell like Thanksgiving. . .it's better food than I've ever prepared in my life for sure! AND (I know. . .there's more?) there's always a massage therapist on site at least one of the days.

Here's the little "barn" where we eat. . .fitting for Lara's antics (see her on the far left?).

And here's the pile of pages I got done! We're talking about a big ol' stack of pages. Like 35 of 'em! Now if I could just find the time to actually get them into the albums. Back to reality, I guess!

It would certainly be easier to get the finished pages in albums if I could get that cook and massage therapist to come to my house, huh??!!??

Filled with Love

When Mason was born 4 1/2 years ago, we received a very special and unique gift in the mail from my friend Lara's mom, Ellin. She sent a big, beautiful, old, heavy Mason Jar, filled with scrapbook embellishments. It was so perfect and thoughtful! (It's the one on the far left in the picture below.)

Ellin is a big antique shopper, and she loves to find and purchase special items for her home and for others. Over the years, she has sent me several wonderful things. All have a "spot" in our home, and I treasure each of them.

We liked the Mason Jar idea so much, Rip and I decided to continue it. We purchased one Father's Day weekend when Mason was four months old, which expanded the collection to two jars. As something fun, we decided to fill each one with little trinkets that were memorable. . .Hot Wheels from Rip's childhood, board game pieces from mine, old Fisher-Price Little People, jacks (because they reminded me of my Gramma and Grampa). . .the list goes on, but each jar's contents were carefully selected for a reason.

We have jars now from so many. . .Aunt Bonnie and Jack gave us one after their visit last year, my dear friend Kim gave me one from her mother's collection, my mom has found several at antique shops here and there, Ellin has found and sent several more over the last few years, and Rip and I pick them up when we want to mark a special occasion. Additionally, we've received "contents" for the jars from so many people, too. Stacy (aka "Aunt Stacy" to our kids) gave us her grandmother's button collection for one jar, and Rip's parents gave us a sterling rattle and brush from Daryl's childhood, plus a ring that was Rip's when he was a baby for another jar.

Before any jar goes on the shelves in Mason's room, I put a little card inside that tells the story of where the jar came from, and why we filled it with its particular treasures.

I want Mason to know that each jar was filled not just with old, worn dime store toys or junk from the attic, but instead, filled with love.