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Hello, Bacon Jam

The kids are out of school and it was a good time to explore our fair city.  It was also a good time to sit in a lot of traffic.  Funny how those two things go together.

First, we went to the World of Coke.  Everything is decorated pretty for Christmas and we had a good time.  We especially liked drinking all the weird flavors of drinks from all around the world.  However, when I am in Djibouti and Italy and Uruguay, I will especially careful about what I drink because I tasted some nasty stuff from those places.  We even drank Gingerbread Coke, the special flavor of the month.  It smelled and tasted just like it sounds, but there were no gingerbread chunks floating around in it.  Go figure.

And then, we finally found a place to eat.  Yeah! Burger.  And it is a very yummy place.  I finally got to try something I have wanted to experience:  Bacon Jam.  It is caramelized bacon in a spreadable form and it makes your food taste really, really good.  That little flavor made me very happy about the green bean bundles I am fixing for Thanksgiving, because caramelized bacon is a wonderful party in my mouth and I love it.  Also on our lunch plates:  fried pickles.  So, so good.  Yeah! Burger gets a thumbs-up from me.

As the rain settled in and my roaming around the Virginia Highland area drew to a close, I was just happy to spend a day with my family and I was happy to have Bacon Jam.  It was all good.

The Pictures

Here are some photos of our fun little party.  Some of our book club came, but in total almost 100 church people were a part of the event.  The race pictures are a little lacking, though, because I was laughing at everything :)

The Box-Car Children

Another wild and wacky church party was on our agenda Saturday.  This one was very creative, very inventive, and pretty funny.

Burnt Hickory's Corrugated Car Show was very fun.  People could make a car from a box, enter it in the show where the favorites won a trophy, and then there were the races.  Children of all ages would sit on skate boards and race their box cars to the finish.  And it was hilarious.

Some cars were incredible in their details.  Some designers dressed up to go with their cars, like Roxy.  She dressed as a hippie to go along with her VW van corrugated car.  And the best part was the racing, where everyone cheered for their favorites.

Scott and I enlisted our elementary age book club to make a vehicle, but we made a ship instead of a car.  The Dawn Treader, from the C. S. Lewis book, won a second place trophy.  Yeah, it was that good.

We could not be the Ghost Busters, though.  That car was hilarious and absolutely perfect.  Plus, they played a theme song and dressed up as Ghost Busters.  They even got their octogenarian mothers to dress up and play with them, too.  That group was the best.

My Favorite Things

So, my week has been kind of cruddy due to a malfunction of my sinuses, not to mention too much to do and not enough time to do it.  Blah blah blah, heard it all before from someone else, I'm sure.

My solution for today is to remember my blessings.  My favorite things, if you will.

1.  I love eating at Panera Bread with my girls.  When it gets a little chilly outside, we go in for soup and salad, or mac and cheese for Roxy, and we sit in a relaxing, warm restaurant and enjoy a meal with no rushing to get finished, no animosity, just us girls enjoying a favorite place on a quiet evening.

2.  I love elementary school music programs.  Today I watched Roxy sing the sweetest turkey songs in a room filled with every grandparent that could attend.  Roxy got to play the xylophone on one song and she could not have been prouder, or more perfect.  And then I went back to her wonderful classroom and watched Roxy be a fabulous assistant to her teacher by taking care of all of the music selections for the class. Roxy is a responsible girl and she rocks at her job, and I think her teacher appreciates her for the same reasons I do.

3.  I love good progress reports.  Darby did a good job and I am pleased that I don't have to be a meanie and get her in line.

4.  I love lifting my daughter's spirits.  I pulled Darby out of school for an hour or so (spirit lift) so we could see Roxy's program.  Roxy was so excited that Darby got to come (spirit lift) and she got to show Darby off to all her friends, some of whom remembered Darby from when she would broadcast the news every morning in her 5th grade year.  That was two years ago, and Roxy's buddies remember her!  Wow.

5.  I love Jimmy Fallon.  I watched his show from last night before Roxy got home from school.  He makes me laugh.

6.  I love my quilt fabrics.  I have been working on it today and I am thinking I will love this quilt.

7.  I love having a day filled with my favorite things, even if I have to do it all with massive amounts of tissues and coughing and medicine.

I Spy With My Little Eye

Reality Check for a Tweenager

My dear daughter, the one who always, absolutely always, has to take pictures of herself every day, is officially in the age range where you can no longer tell she is twelve.

I blame it on the Davis genes.  If you have ever been to the Davis family reunion, you would understand just how small and insignificant you are and how tall and significant the Davis' clan is.  If you are a petite, you could not be a Davis or have that gene.

Petite feet are nonexistent in this house, thanks to the Davis gene.  This girl on the left needs a 10 now.  Not to mention the Little One not pictured, who now can wear a ladies size 6.  GAAK!

All three gals in this house are in serious need of wardrobe rehab, which I can blame on the Davis Gene.  When will the growth spurts end?  Darby is larger than most adults in my small group, which is quite literally a small group when you think about it.  As far as my wardrobe rehab goes, I have issues due to the absence of Dr. Pepper and the introduction of cardovascular exercise.  I can't keep my britches on anymore and it is starting to make me a little bit nutty.  But the Davis gene will keep me looking like a fabulous plus size model, being that plus size is anything over a size 6 (and I am way over that notch but still happy with my shrinkage:)

So, as far as the reality check goes, Scott got to deal with that one tonight when a comment was made by a trainer at the local YMCA.  Darby was getting set up to work out on the machine when he asked her age, and then was surprised that she was only 12.  I would have been horrified by a comment that aged me, but this girl was slightly impressed with her ability to confuse a member of the opposite sex.

She is just a baby!  A tween age baby!  If any of those big, hairy boys at the Y try to hit on her, Scott will lock her up on the third floor of our house and park himself outside on our front steps with his new gun and a box of shells, contemplating exactly who he will shoot first and whether or not he wants to seriously maim anybody.  And I will cower inside, knowing that she is beautiful and may be getting noticed by big, hairy boys that want her phone number.  Yikes.

An Intellectual Halloween

This was the year of the book nerd.  Roxy wanted to be Nancy Drew, the girl detective.  Her purse has many compartments, containing everything a young sleuth needs to solve mysteries:  binoculars, magnifying glass, fingerprinting equipment, spare change, pad of paper and pen.  This gal is prepared.  And she was a very cute, uber-preppy detective, and hardly anyone actually knew who Nancy Drew was.  Who are these clueless people?  Don't they know anything about children's books?  Don't they know that Nancy Drew was the big thing in the 1950s?

So, maybe Roxy is a throwback to another generation, one where the girls dress modestly, where they think and write and serve others.  As opposed to the pop tarted girls we saw in the naughty witch costumes, the Major Flirt costumes, and all the sexy kittens that come straight out of the Frederick's of Hollywood catalog.

She won a special prize at out small group Halloween party:  Most Intellectual Costume.  Her buddy in the top photo won Most Original.  She was Orange.  She even smelled Orange because they dyed her hair with Kool-Aid, which made her a living, breathing Scratch and Sniff being.

I think my eight year old rocks.  And I hope she will share some good candy with me while I take a small sabbatical from my diet.