molasses cookies

Have I mentioned that my middle son is back in the desert?

He's about half way through his deployment, and I can't wait for him to come home this spring.

In the meantime, I send him cookies!


We've discovered that his all time favorite chocolate chip cookies are a no-go. It can take anywhere from a week to a month for a package to make it into Junior's hands, and even vacuum packed, the chocolate chip cookies are not at their best when they arrive.

However, my sister's molasses cookies are another story. They are still soft and chewy even weeks after I send them off.


Spiced with lots of cinnamon, cloves and ginger, these cookies are a perfect fall treat.

I have big plans to fill them with pumpkin ice cream, as I think they'd be out of this world as ice cream sandwiches.

(Just to clarify, I would not be sending the ice cream sandwich version overseas.)


Molasses Cookies

1 and 1/2 cups melted butter - recipe calls for shortening, but I'm a butter believer
1 and 1/2 cups sugar
2 eggs
1/2 cup molasses - I use the dark, full flavor version
4 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon salt

I usually soften my butter in the microwave to an almost, but not quite melted point.
Cream butter and sugar, then add eggs and beat until light and fluffy.
Add molasses and mix until blended.
I usually sift the dry ingredients together into a bowl and then add them to the mixer in batches and stir until everything is just combined.
But sometimes I'm not very Martha and don't sift anything but just dump all the dry ingredients into my mixer and then say bad words as the flour goes flying all over my kitchen.

Four cups of flour is a lot of flour to add all at once.

Either way, they always turn out perfect and delicious.

Except for the first time when I made them with no sugar. They were not delicious that time.

Chill the dough for a couple hours, and then roll the cookie dough into balls. Roll the cookie balls in granulated sugar and place on a ungreased cookie sheet. Do not press the cookie balls down. They will flatten out into perfectly round cookies as they bake.

Bake at 375 for 8-10 minutes.

I've made them from all different sized cookie scoops, as I'm always trying to maximize the amount of cookies I can fit in a flat rate postal box. The smaller cookies are usually done the eight minutes and the largest can take up to eleven minutes.


So are there any other cookie shippers out there? If you've got a recipe that travels well, I'd love to hear about it.

Have a happy Tuesday!

misty watercolor memories

Perhaps a better title for this post would be, "How to torture your children and make them cry right before they get on the bus.....two days in a row."

But my blog design doesn't allow for lengthy titles, so we'll go the Streisand route.

Back in the day, I went through a brief black and white photograph hand tinting phase.

Which naturally led to a brief let's make our own Christmas card featuring our precious boys phase.

Before school one morning, we staged the perfect warm and loving scene, where-in we pretend that our grade school aged children are decorating our front entry with the help of our adorable toddler.

Totally believable scenario, yes?

We were in a rush, we only had a few minutes before the school bus came, and as a result, the first photo shoot involved both crying and threatening.

I cried, they threatened.

With high hopes that my children possessed the ability to repress traumatic memories, I ran with them to the school bus, glowing with the knowledge that my mission was accomplished.

"Have a wonderful day, boys! Mama loves you! And if your teacher asks you why you're crying, just tell her you fell down while you were getting off the bus! Mama loves you!"

This was going to be the best Christmas card in the history of the world. I just knew it.

I took the film to a one hour photo, and in the following one hour, they lost the negatives.

Awesome.

Never one to give up on a dream, the next morning we lovingly awakened our adorable children with the news that we would be repeating yesterday's fun-filled photo shoot.

Yay!

Having learned from the previous day's disaster, we bribed with ice cream and candy this time, (hence the gleeful look on my baby's face), and while some eyes may have been a little on the misty side, I don't think tears actually fell.


Awwwww. Doesn't that picture just warm your heart?

"Meeeeeem-ries, light the corners of my mind........
....misty water color meeeeem-ries, of the way we were."

"Scattered pictures, of the smiles we left behind.....
....smiles we gave to one an-uuuuuh-ther, for the way we were."

Have yourselves a Merry Pretend Happy Family Christmas Card day!

the big day

The knot is tied.

The deal is sealed.

The relationship status on two Facebook accounts has been changed.

It was beyond perfect.

While I happily played the part of mother of the groom for most of the festivities, I did manage to get my camera out here and there to capture a few moments of the big day.


The goat cart wedding altar....


The happy couple....


A beautiful wedding party....


The handsomest groom on the planet.....


All my fellas.....


The gorgeous, gorgeous bride and pretty blue flowers......

It was the wedding they dreamed about.

The weather was perfect, the food was amazing, and we even had our very own wedding crashers. Every wedding needs some crashers, right?


We met wonderful new friends and family, and every last one of them is a keeper.

Good, good people.


It was a whirlwind, and I'm pretty sure there were a good three days where I didn't speak a coherent sentence, but we all had the time of our lives.


The bride and groom say it was all they hoped for, and what can be better than that?


Nothing could possibly be better than that.

(A good percentage of these photos were hijacked over the shoulder of the wonderful wedding photographer. She was kind enough to say she didn't mind and I tried not to be too obnoxious. Her work is beautiful and we all can't wait to see how she captured the day.)

the final countdown

Four more days!

the week in words

Within the last week....

My hubby flew to New York, hung out with the groom and bride-to-be, had a ton of fun without me, ate dinner in Times Square, went for a ride in a Coast Guard boat, enjoyed authentic New York pizza pie, saw an amazing fireworks show, went water skiing, blah, blah, blah.

Did I mention he did all this without me?

Doesn't that seem so very, very wrong?

But, there was a catch.

After all that fun, my hubby and the groom hopped in a truck and pulled a big, heavy trailer from New York to western Montana in two in a half days.

As in, they left New York on Sunday morning, and were at my house on Tuesday afternoon.

If you are at all familiar with the geography of The United States of America, you know that this is no small feat.

It's plum craziness.

Did I mention that I am so very, very happy that they did that part without me?

The very same time they were blazing a trail across the country, my middle son was making his way across the world, and I got to pick up my very tired and very hungry soldier at the airport on Monday night. We went straight to the closest restaurant where he ordered more food than either you or I could even think about eating and made it disappear in record time. I'm always impressed by just how much food my boys can put away.

Impressed and sometimes a little appalled.

As Junior was plowing his way through plate number three, the manager of the restaurant came over to say that an anonymous diner had already paid for our dinner and dessert if we wanted it.

(We all of a sudden wanted dessert.)

While there is certainly a downside to wearing the same Army uniform for three days as you take five different flights to get home from the desert for your two weeks of leave, the upside is that there are wonderful people who buy your dinner, and other wonderful people who come up to you and thank you for your service while your mama stands beside you obnoxiously beaming with pride.

(The obnoxiously beaming mother probably belongs in the downside part of that scenario.)

The diner was already gone, so we couldn't even say thank you. My son really wanted to say thank-you.

He also wants to thank all of you for your support and your prayers. It really means a lot to him.

And me.

Okay, enough of that mushy stuff.

The last few days have been filled with Pinochle games, ultimate frisbee, (two frisbees already went into the pond), and the construction of a zip line.

Yes, you heard me.

A zip line.

A zip line across the pond.

Because no reunion of the Meadowbrook Farmboys is complete without a trip to the emergency room.

Speaking of the Farmboys....



Yes, Junior Number Three cut off his curls. I'm still so mad about it I could spit, but he somehow seems to think he should have some form of say over his hair. And his clothes. And his life.

Kids these days.

The Bride flies in on Saturday and we all can't wait to see her.

Dear Bride-To-Be,
Please hurry!
I am over run by testosterone once again.
I need you!
Love,
Meadowbrook Mama

hold on to sixteen

Hold on to sixteen, as long as you can.

(I was sixteen when that song came out.)

(Please don't do the math.)

(Pretty please.)


My baby.

In a few weeks, he'll be a senior.

In a few weeks, he'll be seventeen.

Say it ain't so.


I have found the key to getting my boys to pose for pictures.

Can you guess?

A cute girl. And seriously, could this girl possibly be any cuter?

When a fella gets double-teamed by the cute girl and the mom with the camera, he stands no chance.

It worked with his big bro, and it worked again yesterday.


Adding a vintage soda to the mix doesn't hurt either.

Junior loves the vintage sodas.


Life is good.

Summer's coming.

School's almost out.

They have plans for picnics and swimming and ice cream.

(He has plans to make her play Nazi Zombies on the X-box, but I think for each game she plays, we should get a photo session in exchange.)


Hold on to this time, kids.

Real, grown up life is right around the corner.

It will come soon enough.

Just. Hold. On.

a garden confession

I have something to tell you. There's really no way to soften the blow of what I'm about to say, so I'm just going to spit it out.

I planted my zinnia seeds last weekend.

I planted a lot of zinnia seeds last weekend.

I planted a shocking number of zinnia seeds last weekend.

Can you tell I'm stalling?

Okay, are you ready?

I planted one thousand, one hundred and ten zinnia seeds last weekend.

There, I said it.

1110 zinnias.

Eleven hundred and ten.

Eleventy ten.

I am a sick person.

I truly don't know how it happened. How can there possibly be that many seeds in those little packets? I just kept opening packets and planting seeds. I didn't count the holes in the seed trays as I was planting. I didn't even think to count the holes. About three quarters of the way through my seed packet stash, my guess was coming in around five hundred, and even that was pretty alarming, but when I did the final count (I finally did the seed tray count....seven across and fourteen down...ninety-eight per tray), I about fell off my chair. I'm using the wedding as my justification, but deep down I know I passed ridiculous a good six hundred zinnias ago.

Keep in mind the seed tray holes are very small and the zinnias will have to be transplanted into bigger pots while still in the greenhouse. Then I have to find a home for them all out in the gardens. That means I have to handle 1110 zinnias two more times.

Houston, we have a problem.

I wonder how many days it will take me to plant them all. I wonder if I have room to plant them all. June just may find me setting up a roadside zinnia stand, peddling my extras to passersby.

Actually, I think I'm going to look at it as a challenge. I'm going to find a place for each and every one of those zinnias if it's the last thing I do.

Please. Send. Help.

Truth be told, I'm a bit embarrassed by my zinnia numbers, so in an attempt to distract you from my zinnia gluttony, I'm going to totally switch gears and try to tug at your heart strings just a bit.

Just yesterday, I said my goodbyes to my middle son. He's heading off to a very hot place, very far away.

Then, last night I had a great talk with my oldest. He's getting out of the Coast Guard in three months, planning his wedding and he and his bride-to-be are mapping out the next phase of their lives as a married couple.

They're all grown up. I'm loving my grown up boys.

They are extremely cool people.

But, occasionally I miss these little fellas.

A lot.


I found these photos just a couple days ago. We had just moved into a house that had no grass, and each and every day was spent in their version of little boy heaven. They each got a hose that was turned on with a trickle of water, and they spent hours and hours playing in the mud.

Simple days and good, clean fun.

Then I found this picture and it made me laugh to see that even though it was taken five years later, the expression on my younger son's face is pretty much the same.


Of course I can't leave out my youngest....my baby. My 6'4" baby. Look at those curls and those cute little bunny teeth. Fourteen long years ago.


"Sunrise, sunset.

Sunrise, sunset.

Swiftly, fly the years.

One season following another, laden with happiness and tears."

*

*

*

Did it work?

Did you forget about the zinnias?

tie a yellow ribbon

Dear Department of Defense,

So, it has finally come down to this.

Back in September when I first got wind that Junior Number Two was going to be deployed, I really wasn't too terribly concerned.

For one thing, my way of dealing with worrisome subjects is to swiftly scoot them to the back of my mind. That makes plenty of room for the fluffy bunny, sweet baby chick, rainbow and butterfly thoughts to live up front. Oh, I know those pesky thoughts are back there....they pop to the front every once in a while, and niggle and nag a little from the back row, but generally speaking the rainbows and bunnies have the dominant spot. Now you may be tempted to go all Dr. Phil and want to chat about the psychological ramifications of that way of thinking, but that's not what I want to talk to you about today.

The second reason I didn't immediately start to dither was the assurance I'd been given that deployment orders are known to change with the same frequency as Lindsay Lohan's hair color and incarceration status. Why get my knickers in a twist about something that very well may not come to pass.

Thirdly, the deployment wasn't scheduled to happen until Spring, and back in September, Spring was still a very loooong way away. A lot could change before then. Perhaps the bunnies, rainbows and butterflies would all head on over to the Middle East and work their magic there. Problem solved.

It could happen.

Last? In my mind, Junior Number Two still looks like this.


And everybody knows you can't send a cute little baby overseas.

But.

Last week I became the proud owner of my very own yellow ribbon pin. It's just a little pin. A subtle, little yellow pin. But when my husband placed it in my hand, that's when I finally acknowledged that this is going to happen.

For real.

Oh boy.

Now, don't get me wrong. I wholeheartedly approved of Junior's decision to join the National Guard, knowing full well he would be deployed at some point. And I have the utmost respect for all our men and women in uniform, and I was proud to the point of sinful pride when I attended his graduation from boot camp. They told us we were joining the biggest family in America. I am proud to be a part of that family. I get a lump in my throat whenever I ponder all the wonderful men and women serving our country and the huge, huge sacrifices they make on my behalf every single day.

The fact that Junior volunteered for this particular deployment just fits in with a slightly alarming pattern I've noticed around here for the last couple years.

You see, my mama princess bubble was burst years ago when it became clear that these boys of mine were actually going to have the nerve to lead their own independent and somewhat dangerous lives. My dreams of my oldest becoming a quiet country veterinarian, or my middle son becoming a mechanical engineer quickly went poof in a cloud of testosterone fueled smoke.

My hope now firmly lies in my youngest, whose aspirations to become a waiter in Hawaii sound better and better with every passing day.

But back to the subject at hand.

It has finally sunk in, Department of Defense. This is happening, isn't it. I reluctantly acknowledge that the sweet little baby pictured above has grown into the man you see here.


A man who will serve you well.

He always has been and always will be in God's hands, but for now, you're going to be playing a major role in his life.

Please take good care of him.

And make sure he drinks plenty of water. I've heard it's hot over there.

Sincerely,
Meadowbrook Mama

Oh, and p.s. I don't know if you read my blog or not? Anyway, if you do, then you know we're having a family wedding here this summer. If by some slight chance you get a bee in your bonnet and want to just pop Junior home for a quick visit around the end of July, that would be awesome! I don't want to put you out or anything, but just in case you don't have anything else going on right then, I thought I'd mention it.

three guesses

I have news.

Big news.

Good news.

Actually, it's about the best possible news, and I'm going to let you guess what it is.

(It won't be hard, I promise.)

Here's a hint....


(photo by Suzi Q via Style Me Pretty)


Another hint....





And, one more....if you need it.




(All gorgeous inspiration boards from Magnolia Rouge)


Now, pop over here, and the story will be complete.

But hurry back, because my friends....we need to talk.


It's true. There's a wedding on the horizon.

My first born is going to be my first married!

Can I get a squeal of delight from my invisible friends?

My boy has found his girl.

She's perfect for him.

She's perfect for our family.

I can't imagine anything more fulfilling as a mom. To watch my son get ready to start his very own family with the girl of his dreams....what could possibly be better.


But wait! There's more.

The wedding is going to take place this summer, right here at the farm. A small family wedding by the pond.

(Feel free to squeal once again.)


I absolutely can't wait to see what they come up with for their special day. I can't wait to do my part to make their dream wedding become a reality. I'm ready to be their worker bee.

One thing I know for sure...the Bride has fabulous taste. I've seen The Dress and it's gorgeous. We've chatted about colors and flowers, cakes and decorations. This girl knows what she likes and it's going to be beautiful.

Oh, and all these dreamy photos? They are just the things that caught my eye whilst perusing a few of the many gorgeous wedding blogs out there. Wedding trends have certainly changed since I got married many, many years ago, and all for the better as far as I'm concerned.

My friend Jen brought this next group of photos to my attention a long time ago. My reaction when I saw them? I told her I was headed to the courthouse to divorce my husband just so we could get married again.



(Photos from the Style Me Pretty blog.)

But, the things that catch my eye? They're not important.

This day is theirs.

And boy, is it going to be fun!

kiss the girl

About a week before our oldest came home for his Christmas visit, we had a little text conversation.

Ma ~ Are you going to let me take pictures of you and that adorable girlfriend of yours when you come home next week?

Junior ~ I was wondering when this was gonna come up....it will be on a case by case basis....don't push your luck though.

Ma ~ Well, just fyi, whether or not you get peanut butter pie or prime rib or a bed for that matter is also on a case by case basis.

Guess what.

I got my pictures.

And it was fun!


I think it helped that there were a few smoochie shots scattered throughout the day.

But the real deal sealer was the fact that the aforementioned adorable girlfriend/smooch recipient also wanted these pictures, and seriously, what fella could say no to that.


It's going to be really hard for me to resist the urge to gush, because mom or not, I think these two are so stinking cute.


See what I mean?

Cute! Beautiful! Handsome! Adorable! Gorgeous!

(Done gushing.)

(More smooching.)


We had hopped in the car to find some snow and a hill for these next shots.


This was my son's idea - I had never seen it done before and it was hilarious and very fun to do.


Very Gulliver's Travels.


Then back to a very muddy farm for a few more pictures.


True to form, as we were walking back toward the house after my claims that we were done, I found about eight more perfect spots for those last perfect shots. After the seventh time saying that we were done, and then the seventh time saying, "oh, just a few more shots over here!", I knew I was really pushing my luck.

But I just pulled out the old tried and true.

"Junior? Can you please kiss that pretty girl one more time?"


Okay ma, if you insist.

the purge - an update

Last week, I had a reader ask how the purge is going, so I thought I'd give a quick update on my progress.

Back in January, I began the process of sorting through my closets, cupboards and drawers with the goal of getting rid of anything that didn't have a place in my house. Part way into my closet cleaning venture, the devastating earthquake hit Haiti, and I made the decision to give any money I made to disaster relief. If you're new around these parts, you can read the first part of the story here, and part two, here.

Having a cause and the opportunity to do something for people in dire life or death need really helped my resolve. Knowing I could either keep something I would probably never use, or sell it and perhaps make a difference in a hurting persons life, kept me motivated.

I actually made pretty short work of things, and have been, for the most part, done for about six weeks now. I couldn't be happier with the results. Between my local flea market, which took all of my nice but not vintage/antique items, a back alley vintage tablecloth deal, and an antique store in town that took the rest, I was able to make a $2400 donation to Compassion International's Disaster Relief Fund. Yes, you read that right. Two thousand four hundred dollars. I told you I had a lot of good stuff!

I still have a handful of things, some of my nicest things, that I'm not quite sure what to do with. I've been tossing around the Ebay idea, or maybe trying to sell them here on the blog, but so far, I haven't come up with a plan. I'll keep you posted and let you know when the perfect solution presents itself.

Now, because I can't do a post without pictures, here are some I came across while cleaning off my hard drive.

I have always had a love for miniature donkey's. We had one living down the road years ago, and much to my children's dismay, we had to stop and talk to him every single time we passed by. As in roll down the window, stop the car, and ask him about his day. He was the cutest thing ever, and one day I will have one for my very own. His name will be Donkey, and he will be kept company by my pot belly pig, Petunia. I very well may need a miniature goat or two as well. We'll see.

Anyway, while visiting my sister a few years ago, she took us to visit a newly born baby miniature donkey....can you even imagine the cuteness? Amazingly enough, the baby donkey quickly took a back seat to a very friendly llama (or alpaca, I can't remember which,) (those of you who know, please set me straight,) named Olivia.

Olivia made a bee-line for my youngest and was very, very determined to give him a smooch.


He fought it for a while, but after a serious stare down....


.....he gave in.


Best friends forever.

this boy

This one's my youngest.


My baby.

Much to my dismay, he's growing up too fast.

Literally.

The other day I noticed I was looking up a bit more when talking to him. So, we got out the tape measure. Six foot two and three quarters. Actually, it was more like nine tenths, but I wasn't ready to admit that. That was a couple days ago, so I'm sure he's reached six three by now. Ridiculous.

Fifteen years old.


He's got a job at the local pizza place, and loves it.


It's tough being a teenager these days. Really tough. But he's doing a great job at being a good kid.


He's decided, once again, to hunker down at school. That's a good thing. Every single conference for the last five years has gone exactly the same way. "Mrs. Meadowbrook....your son is a pleasure to have in class. He makes me laugh. I enjoy having him as one of my students. He's a good kid. I just think there's a chance he's not living up to his full potential."

Well, yes, yes it's hard to live up to your academic potential when you're busy living up to your "life is good, let's have some fun" potential.

Baby of the family, anyone?

Here's his "I am a straight "A" student" look. Let's visualize.


He's a clown.

He's full of it.

He's funny.


He's a schmoozer.

He tells me he loves me in front of his friends.

He's a good kid.

Yes, I said it. You're a good kid, junior. Dad and I are proud of you.

Now go do your homework.