Excellent holiday present OR device for improving your child's vocabulary OR tool for preventing inadvertent goat-cheese eating

This is a silly post. Just a filler, I suppose. I am as busy as the rest of you and there’s no time for serious thought, actual research, or clever re-writes. I didn’t want the entire week to go by without some kind of post from me. Nevermind, that I haven’t posted to my other blog in over a month (for shame). Busy time.

I like to keep this blog practical. My other blog is where I do the majority of my musing. Like you, I’m struggling to find perfect presents for everyone on my list, so I must share with you the REALLY FUN item I stumbled upon while tasting chocolate olive oil (Yes chocolate! Amazing on ice cream for the truly decadent soul I’d like to be) at one of my favorite local York shops. This may be old news to those of you who shop as a sport, but for my once-a-year serious attempt at shopping, this was a new discovery.

Wine glass pen markers! These lovely pens came in a pack of three (gold, silver, and green) for just $10. Quite the deal, I must say. They write on glass, china, porcelain, etc. and wash off with simple soap and water. I tried washing the glasses in the dishwasher, but it didn’t really work. You actually have to run a washcloth over them but the marks come off as simply as the package proclaimed.

The packaging suggested you could use these lovelies to mark glasses and mugs at your next party or label the cheese plate so no one eats goat cheese unsuspecting, but I found a better use – improving my children’s vocabulary!

The Blessing of a Broken Dishwasher

Our dishwasher broke at 1pm on Thanksgiving Day. We had just cleaned up the lunch dishes. The dishwasher was crammed full and it was time to run it and clear the decks for some serious sidedish prep craziness involving all the cousins, my mom, and myself. Now what?

Every year we host Thanksgiving for my family. My cousins arrive from New Jersey and Ohio. My little brother and his family fly in from New Mexico. My parents travel over from Lancaster, and long-time friends from Germany come up from Maryland to celebrate. Everyone contributes to the meal. We’re a family of foodies, so it’s a busy, crazy, loud, happy day in my kitchen. And the dishwasher is a critical piece of the pie (so to speak).

 

My husband and my brother, both engineers, analyzed the situation. I headed to the barn to saddle horses

and take some of the kids on a trailride, confident that my superman-fix-anything-hubby would have everything sorted out by the time I came back.

We had a cold but beautiful ride and I arrived back ready to jump into negotiations over oven time and temperature, pan distribution, and a million questions that began with, “Where is the….”. Instead I found my cousin elbow deep in suds. No dishwasher and 21 for dinner.

I’m sure you’re all thinking the same thing.