The other evening I settled into the Amish rocker, drew the computer onto my knee, and clicked over to Ted.com. As soon as the speakers started making noise, the kids surrounded me (and soon husband, too). Thus awkwardly assembled, we together watched several talks*—one about focusing sound, another about illusions, and yet another about buying second-hand clothes.

The talk about thrift shopping was delivered by a color-and-fashion loving woman who had traveled to the Ted Dot Com place (wherever that is) with only seven pairs of underwear and then spent the week thrifting for clothes and photographing her daily outfits which she then used to illustrate her talk. One of the nuggets I gleaned went something like this: if you think you look good in an outfit, you do. If you don’t think you look good, you don’t. I’m not sure I completely believe that, but the gist of it is probably mostly true.

In any case, I decided to go thrifting for clothes.

Now let me say this: I hate shopping for clothes at thrift stores. It requires absolute concentration, abundant time, and lots and lots of Fabric Touching. I hate Fabric Touching, especially fabrics of the stale, stained, and stinky thrift store sort.

But I like the idea of thrift shopping for clothes (I already love thrifting for everything else), and that color-and-fashion jiving Ted woman done did go and get me all pumped up.

So on Saturday I arranged myself a block of time and plunged in cart first. I attacked the racks like a woman possessed, pulling off anything and everything that interested me, no matter how mildly. I even sifted through the wedding dresses and evening gowns! The sign on the changing room door said there was a three item limit which I promptly disregarded (because how in the world are you supposed to mix and match with only three things?)—I had well over 30 items tossed hither and yon. When I finally resurfaced, gasping for air and hair all disheveled, I was shocked to realize I was completely out of time.

And money. I spent over fifty bucks (which is a heck of a lot of money to dish out in a thrift store), and this is what I got.

1. A slinky black fringe dress.

I dig this dress. It’s super comfortable and makes me feel like Pocahontas in a heels-and-evening-gown sort of way.

2. A short stretchy black dress.

But I’ll wear it more like a tunic top, probably with leggings and boots. It’s a good first layer to any number of combinations.

3. A long brown sweater.

I spied this right as I was getting ready to leave and had to ask for the changing room key yet again. It’s soft and warm and will go well with a pair of skinny jeans and cowboy boots, neither of which I have. (But that is just a minor inconvenience.)

4. An old Navy fleece vest.

Because I wanted a fleece vest and I love dark blue.

5. A light-weight blue denim shirt with brown rope belt.

I’m not sure I’ll actually wear this, but I decided it was time to try my luck with the belted look. And the shirt itself is so comfy. Maybe paired with a brown skirt and those cowboy boots I don’t have?

6. A Lord of the Rings Princess Dress.

Just look at this dress, people! It has poofy sleeves! A fitted waist! A twirly skirt! (I tested it in the changing room.) I kind of doubted I’d ever wear the dress but the little girl inside of me forced me to buy it anyway, and when I got home my little real-life little girl stole it right out from under my nose.

I haven’t told her yet, but I think it’s destined to be hers.

7. A red jumper.

Because every homeschooling mom needs a jumper dress, right?

Um, no. Real reason: because it’s super-soft (I’m realizing I have a thing for soft clothes) and has funky little metal hook-y thingies for fastening the shoulder straps. Not sure what to wear under it—a white blouse?—but I’ll probably pair it with some boots. Those cowboy boots…

8. Workout clothes.

Short, flow-y black pants for belly dancing or for bumming around the house, and a cover-up shirt for the same.

9. A black corduroy skirt.

All-purpose. Warm. Sturdy. And the belt loops have character.

10. A little red velvet dress.

I’m not a fan of the Christmas Look but kind of doubt I’ll have any other option when I put this number on. I should probably just stick a candy cane in my mouth and get it over with. Giant jingle bells around my neck would provide a nice accent, no? Ho-ho-ho.

11. A gray lacy-like sweater.

It has the potential to dress up many an outfit.

12. A red tee.

Nothing much to say about this, expect that I’m beginning to realize I’m drawn to red. (And black, but I knew that already.)

13. A black tank.

It fits really well—no gaping around the arms. (I hate when shirts gape around the arms. Makes me feel insecure and socially inept.)

14. A black purse.

It’s almost exactly like the one I have now, but bigger so I can carry more junk, yay!

So to summarize: I bought a bunch of winter clothes at the beginning of summer and half of it isn’t what I’d normally wear but I’m really excited about it anyway.

Next step: to accessorize with flair. I’m thinking hats, scarves, chunky jewelry, and lime green tights.

By any chance, is this new behavior pattern indicative of an early onset mid-life crisis?

*I love this website. It’s made up of a lot of quality talks delivered by people passionate about what they do. Informative, inspiring, fun, etc. (Note: not all talks are appropriate for Little Eyes. Use discretion.)

This same time, years previous: cold-brewed iced coffee and cold-brewed iced tea (I’ve been making the coffee a half-gallon at a time), cabbage apple slaw with buttered pecans, sour cherry crostatas, how to freeze spinach, strawberry margarita cake, and Swiss chard rolls

Mr. Handsome crunched his truck out the driveway and I woke up just enough to register that I had a splitting headache. When I woke up for good a little while later, I lay quite still for a few minutes trying to recall what was on the agenda for this particular Friday. Ah, right. Another blank day. Yeeeesssss.

Next thought, Hm, what do I want to cook today?

And then, Oh dear, how am I going to occupy the kids?

By the time I had dressed, tiptoed downstairs, and started my coffee, a plan was brewing. This day I would be extravagant. I would be generous. I would have fun with my kids.

I informed them of my plan over breakfast (fresh sourdough bread straight from the oven, granola, left over baked oatmeal). First there would be jobs, then an art project (with paint!), then we’d make ten-layer bars, and then a science movie. I was pumped; the kids were agreeable.

After a flurry of sink, toilet, and shower scrubbing, dish washing, and toy picking-upping, we settled down on the kitchen floor with bottles of tempera paints, old newspapers, watercolor paper, and masking tape.

The idea is one of my pinterest finds (if/when you want to join, I’d be honored to send you an invite!), and the kids thought it was super-cool.

Then we made the pan of candy-like bar cookies. (Recipe also from pinterest, but I’d heard about it years ago.)

They’re not my favorite and the kids mostly didn’t like them (which cracks me UP), but we made them together so they served that purpose at least.

While the bars baked, we watched a National Geographic movie about Africa’s Stolen River. Animals died and got eaten and there were too many drawn out setting sun scenes, but it got us through till lunch: cheese and spinach sandwiches, tuna for some, and salad and roasted beets for me.

And thus concludes our Friday morning.

How did you pass this particular June morning?

When we were up in Pennsylvania last week, Sister-in-Law Kate made us an enchilada feast. Three giant pans of ‘ladas equals a feast any time, any place, anywhere, don’t you agree?

Actually, I’ve never really been an enchilada fan. Sure, I liked them, but I didn’t need them. I preferred to serve my beans straight up, tortillas on the side for scooping. The wrapping, saucing, baking, and cheesing required for enchilada-ing just seemed like extra steps I didn’t want in my life.

That’s all changed, now that Kate fed me her enchiladas. It’s not like her enchiladas were fancy or anything—just ground beef and beans wrapped up in tortillas and smothered in a sauce—but the sauce! Oh my word! I couldn’t get enough of the sauce—sweet, spicy, rich, creamy. Deeply and profoundly comforting, that sauce was.

So yesterday, after a volley of emails with Kate, I made the enchiladas for my houseful of hooligans, I mean kids.

Or maybe I do mean hooligans. Just look at them.

The night before yesterday afternoon (when I made the enchiladas I’m telling you about), all the kids were outside running around when it suddenly got really quiet. Mr. Handsome peered out the window to see what was up and reported that all the kids were ON THE ROOF OF THE BARN picking mulberries. Out he went to order them down to the ground, and a little later they appeared in my back yard waving foam swords and looking like messes on legs.

(Which reminds me of a nugget I gleaned from pinterest: the definition of boy: “Boy, n. 1. noise with dirt on it.”)

So anyway, I fed these stinky, tired (’cause they were up till midnight, picking-sour cherries-to-help-them-stay-awake, the sillies), mulberry stained boys (plus my younger kids, too) these enchiladas for lunch. They were mighty happy about their lunch. And so was I. I had thirds.

This is not a complicated recipe. Unlike other recipes I’ve tried, there is no frying of tortillas and then dipping them in the sauce prior to rolling, thank goodness. Simply put a layer of sauce in the pan, top with the filled tortillas, and then smother them in another layer of sauce.

And just a word about this incredible sauce: I’m pretty sure it’s the butter that makes it sing. Or maybe it’s the beef broth? Perhaps the chili powder? Really, I’m not sure what it is, but the combination of a rich roux thinned with broth and flavored with tomato sauce and chili powder is enough to leave such a taste sensation that enchiladas will be your new favorite comfort food for years to come, hallelujah.

Kate’s Enchiladas
Adapted from my sister-in-law’s recipe

Make these with store-bought ingredients or all from scratch—you can’t go wrong either way. (Though I am partial to the toothsomeness that comes from homemade flour tortillas.)

Also, this recipe, aside from the sauce which yields enough sauce for one 9 x 13 pan of enchiladas, has no real measurements.

For the sauce:
5 tablespoons butter
½ cup flour
1 ½ cups beef broth
2 cups tomato sauce
1 tablespoons chili powder
½ teaspoon salt

Melt the butter in a saucepan and add the flour. Whisking steadily, add the broth. When the mixture is thick and bubbly (keep whisking!), add the remaining ingredients and heat through.

For the enchiladas:
*some ground beef that’s been fried up with some chopped onion and green pepper and a sprinkle of salt
*a couple cups of cooked, drained beans, black, red, or pinto—add these to the meat mixture
*a stack of flour tortillas (I made a double batch and had some left over)
*3-4 cups grated, good melting cheese (Monterey Jack, cheddar, provolone, Colby, whatever)
*optional garnishes: fresh cilantro, sour cream, green onions, chives, fresh tomatillo salsa, black olives, etc.

Spread half the sauce in the bottom of a 9 x 13 pan.

Fill the tortillas with some meat-and-bean mixture and some of the cheese. Roll them up and place seam-side-down in the pan on top of the sauce. Repeat until the pan is full. Spread the remaining sauce over the enchiladas.

Cover the pan with foil and bake at 350 degrees for 20-30 minutes or until the sauce is bubbly and the enchiladas are heated through. Remove the foil and sprinkle with the remaining cup or two of cheese. Bake, uncovered, for another 10 minutes.

Serve with the optional garnishes.

Note: these can be assembled ahead of time and frozen. Simply thaw at room temperature and then bake. Leftovers keep well, too.

This same time, years previous: my boy children, old-fashioned vanilla ice cream