Quotidian: daily, usual or customary;
everyday; ordinary; commonplace
With only a few weeks left, we finally put up the
under-the-counter curtains we had made-to-order back in the beginning.
Why, oh why, didn’t we do this earlier?
(This question is becoming our commonly-wailed lament.)
Apple pie-crisp: it didn’t taste as good as I thought it would.
Chocolate cakes don’t come out of the pan in Guatemala.
The closest I get to processing food: roasted tomatoes to store in the fridge.
They go well with macaroni and cheese, beans and rice, eggs, whatever.
Baked French Toast
Baked French Toast
To make it truly a breakfast fast food, I assemble and bake it the day before and leave it on the counter overnight. In the morning, I pop it in oven, turn it to 350 (ish), and let it heat
for 15-20 minutes. It’s on the table ready to eat before 6 am.
Bonus: it warms up the house on these chilly mornings.
Before drying clothes, check pockets and remove crayons or you will regret it.
After a day of preparation for first communion:
happy with her plastic rosary and “soy misionerola en la Verapaz” pin..
(Not that she’ll have first communion, seeing as we’re Mennonite and all.)
The swirly eye designs were not a part of the theological study, but the idea for the cross?
(Also, notice the new earrings. Less than a month after getting them pierced,
she’s switching out earrings like a pro.)
Can you tell what movie we’ve recently watched?
Hearing my 7-year-old bust out with (a paraphrase of),
“You think I’m embarrassed to go home to Starla at night?”
makes me over-the-top proud. I’m educatin’ ’em right.
They found it in the driveway and are keeping it in a container to wave under unsuspecting noses (both people and dog). The fumes were so bad my older son had to take a series of hits
from his deodorant stick to clear his nasal passages.
Slain by fermented bug odors.
High in the nispero tree: singing her heart out,
oblivious to me and my camera and the whole wide world in general.
Will the family miss the dryer?
I like that question. Maybe Donna just means "the crayon-y dryer." Or maybe not.
Plus I like the flip-flops.
No, we won't miss the dryer. I am so incredibly glad we bought one for our time here (so, so, so glad), but we have no need for one in the states.
I like the flip-flops, too. Ha.
Once I had a gum mishap. I was digging gum out of my pockets for a month. (Mom taught my sister and I to do our own laundry when we were about seven. She warned us about gum and I kinda forgot.) But, crayons are better than gum. Crayon breaks off. Gum just stretches.
Crayon doesn't break off—it melts. All over the load of white school uniform shirts. Wax stains galore.
But melted gum? That would be dreadful!
Oh no– we had the crayon mishap here once. It was orange. There are still remnants of it left in the dryer that are there permanently. (That stripe of orange doesn't come off on clothes anymore, thankfully!)
Michelle @ Give a Girl a Fig
I often wondered why you hadn't covered up the under the sink area. I am such a weirdo about my surroundings I'd have had to do it right off the bat…it looks marvelous. And those tomatoes? They look delicious!
And less than 4 weeks? Now I DO feel like an idiot.
I'll give you a clue: Deb.
Okay, since no one guessed it (I'm disappointed in you all!), I'll have to tell: Napoleon Dynamite.
Suburban Correspondent–the first time I tried to change out the earrings, I was vividly reminded of my first tampon-insertion event–sweating and short of breath. Q.
[in case you find it helpful for the clearing of crap!]