where all the old riding horse toys go

Saturday on the way home from the girls' soccer game we took the scenic route. (I'm sure I've mentioned here before that I truly am married to Back-road Bob) If you're not in a hurry, it's really the most therapeutic way to drive home from a loss.  We saw some really pretty flowers, 

an awesome brick house

(I'm thankful for a husband and kids who tolerate my need to brake for photos)

and apparently the place where all discarded riding horse toys go when they are no longer loved.  Such a weird sight!  A perfectly rural neighborhood of rolling hills, manicured yards

and this:

a playdate with Uncle Dub

The last time these two were together, Moriah requested a playdate.

She wanted Uncle Dub to come to HER house.

(who wouldn't?)

On Mother's Day, we drove to Moriah's house in Connecticut.

They had a GREAT afternoon together.

a note about POPS

Sweet Mesquite has been working HARD this year.

 She loves her music.

She put in many, MANY hours leading rehearsals as Section Leader for the flutes.

The end-of-year concert happened May 10th, and our flutist performed in two ensembles (Concert Band and Jazz Band).  She was presented the Director's Award for Concert Band in recognition of her talent, commitment, enthusiasm and leadership.

Congratulations Mesquite!

Sunday in Connecticut

Mother's Day

 I was happy to be able to spend part of Mother's Day with the best mom in the world.  AND happy that the lilacs did not disappoint.  They seem to show up every year just in time.  MMmmm.

I am spoiled. overwhelmed. LOVED.

what NOT to add to your soup

I made some dee-licious soup last night.
Chicken soup.
Homemade.
Except here's the story about when I should have listened to that little voice in my head:

I save things.
I'm not as bad as I used to be.  I have some clutter, but saving food just makes sense to me.  Freezing stock after you boil meat seems like a simple way to have a tasty starter on hand when you want to make soup.  I made this baked ham at Easter time.  THREE days it took me to make ham for a crowd.  It was a pretty tedious process, but the ham was tasty.  I strained the stock after boiling the meat, and put it in the freezer to use for later.  Later came yesterday.
In my head I thought You're making chicken soup.  You might not want to use ham stock for chicken soup.  
I tend to be a bit of a bully in the kitchen.  Plus I was in a hurry.  I ignored that little voice; went right on and used the frozen ham stock.  It worried me a tiny bit that there was the use of MUCH vinegar in the boiling process for that Easter ham.  But I forged ahead.  I carefully chopped veggies, minced garlic and added shredded chicken.  "Mmmmm... this smells good!" One of the kids said when they came home from school.
I relaxed about the vinegar.
It was a crazy night (they usually are at our house) so I dished four bowls of soup, put hot biscuits on napkins and ran out the door to soccer practice.  The other four were headed out the door to youth activities at the church.  When soccer practice was over, the youngest hopped in the shower while I fixed his dinner.  He came hungry to the table, and gobbled up the soup.
Again, I relaxed another notch and thought Phew. The vinegar must have boiled off enough that it tastes pretty good.
In case you're wondering why I didn't sample the soup, I'll disclose that I'm having a tooth problem.  Standard protocol apparently.  I was afraid to put anything in my mouth, so I abstained.
Morning boy never said a word.  I hesitantly asked "Sooo... how was the soup?"
"It tasted sort of spicy. Did you put barbecue sauce in it?" came the reply.
Then I started to worry.
We cleaned up, and I hurried to tuck myself into bed with a book before the rest of the crew came home.  I was happily reading when I heard them come in.  I waited for the feet to come tromping up the stairs, but instead I heard cupboards open, and then the sound of cereal being poured into bowls.  Eventually they made their way up, the girls piled on the bed and Mr. Dub slipped into the closet to change.
"Boy, that was some soup!" he said from the closet.
I looked at Rooney. "Was there a hint of sarcasm in his voice?" I asked softly.
She tipped her head. "Mom." she countered. "We just had cereal for supper.  WHAT was in that soup?"
Then Dub emerged.  "Yea... what'd you put in there... Mop n Glo?"
There was talk about dumping bowls of soup out the window while they were driving on the highway.  They wondered if passersby might have thought there was some intestinal rebellion happening in our vehicle.  I laughed so hard I counted it for my weekly abs workout.

Here's what I learned:
When you boil ham in water and vinegar, the stock should NOT be used for a chicken soup base.  It MIGHT, however, do a bang-up job on your floors.  Leftovers anyone?