Make Canned Biscuit Sugared Donuts - Day 223 of 365, Tutorial Tuesday

I think my family is probably getting tired of me pushing them.

I feel like I have some experience with the I don't feel well enough to do anything feeling. When I see someone in the family with that feeling, I've been trying to make them do things. Not something big, but just something. I know how important it is to have a purpose when things aren't going the way you'd like. I know what it is like to get up in the morning and not want to get out of the pajamas. I also know sometimes it's mind over matter. That despite how terrible you feel, you can do at least one thing you can be proud of. One thing to prove you were here. One thing to look forward to. If you asked me at the beginning of this project if that were true, I wouldn't have believed you. Even now there are days where I'm not sure I can do it.

But I do know the power of the one thing.  For the last several months my one thing has been the picture of the day. But I think the greatest contribution I've made is the sewing for others. It's the thing that gets me out of bed, the thing I look forward to, the thing I'm most proud of.

I want others around me to experience the power of the "one thing". So yesterday, when my husband was home sick and wanting some attention and I was in the middle of piecing a kids quilt, I made him wind a box full of bobbins for me. And he was happy he was able to contribute. Happy he learned something new.

It's like the fried pies and my mom. Trying out different recipes and different doughs gave her a purpose. Something to work on, something to think about, something to look forward to. Last week I made her do the tutorial, and this week she's doing a tutorial again.

This week is donuts. Quick and easy donuts made out of canned biscuits.

Click on the video to get the directions:

Day 222 of 365

As I worked through my day at home today, it hit me. My life has changed and I don't know if it'll ever go back to the way it was before.

I realized it when I was sitting in the office chair, at the dining room table, while eating. For every meal and every single time I sit at the dining room table I have to use the padded office chair. Ever since I hurt my back two years ago the straight back wooden chairs that go with the set - the ones that everyone else sits in - are too hard on my back. I tried putting in a seat cushion once but it didn't help.

I realized it as I took a shower. When I had my knee replacement a year and a half ago, I had to have a shower chair. When I started using that shower chair, I noticed it was easier to take a shower. Not just because of the knee issue, but because of the back issue. I'm unable to stand but a few minutes and bending over is rough. Using a shower chair allows me to take a shower without as much back pain as before.

I realized it when I used the bathroom on the elevated seat. It was suggested I use one when I had the knee replacement, and again it seemed to help keep the back a bit calmer. I tend to delay my restroom trips at work (I know, it's a bad practice) because it hurts the back getting up.

I realized it as I was sitting down and shaving my legs. Long gone are the days of standing and reaching.

I realized it as I squeezed the toothpaste with the heel of my hand.

I realized it as I was tying my shoes. At noon. It took me that long to get my fingers to be able to work.

And I realized it as I was having difficulty grasping the pen when I was writing a note to include in my box for Stockings for Soldiers.

While my body has required me to make adjustments that a 46 year old should not have to make, I still can sew on my machine.

80 stockings are now finished and ready to go out the door tomorrow.

I have to think that despite my grumblings about my body, those troops who will be receiving these stockings have bigger issues to deal with than I do.

Day 221 of 365

I've never been one to ask for help. I imagine most people are that way. Too afraid, too embarrassed, too proud. Too concerned about trying to be independent.

I've tended to be independent. I left home at 16 and was in college by 17. And being married to someone with a disability who doesn't drive forced me to assume an even greater level of independence. I've been the one driving us everywhere despite ice, fog, and blizzards, and the only one who pumps gas. I've been the one who uses the drill and the saw every time they are needed. I've been the sole lawnmower fixer and weed eater repairer. I've been the house painter, the bill payer, the checkbook balancer, and the tax preparer. The tech support person.   Every "assembly required" thing in this house was put together by me, along with anything requiring tying whether it be a rope, a shoestring, or a dress tie. And 99.99% of the pictures taken over the last 28 years were taken by me.

Over the years, I've gotten my husband to do more things here and there without help. He now uses a can opener by himself. He's gotten a nice collection of clip on and zip up dress ties. Just last week he learned how to text, and this week I showed him how to pay bills.

Recovering from three surgeries in less than a year required me to finally start asking for help. Both my daughter and husband had to pitch in more than they'd ever had before. It was a welcome (and necessary) change for me. But since then, I've again been holding back on asking for help.

25 more Christmas stockings for Stockings for Soldiers. Independently. All by myself. I probably should have asked for help in getting to 80. I might just do that pretty soon.

Day 220 of 365

I'm not a big comfort food person. I didn't grow up on casseroles and I'm not into mac and cheese. I don't even remember too many of my meals growing up.

As I think back on my childhood, it had two parts. Pre-divorce and post-divorce. Up to 3rd grade and 4th grade and on.

My parents divorced when I was a kid. A few months before my eighth birthday, we packed up the house in San Jose and moved about 80 miles away to live with my grandparents. We left the old house behind and I left my old life behind. I have few memories of the pre-divorce years, and the memories I do have revolve around the pictures I have from back then. Mostly birthday parties. The only food memories are birthday cakes, grilled cheese sandwiches, and fried eggs. (I'm sure my mom cooked, I just don't remember it.)

I remember some foods from when we moved in with, then moved next door to, my grandparents. Those fried pies from earlier this week. Tacos. Okra. Homemade pizza with Little Smokies on them. Sourdough bread. And fried chicken and mashed potatoes.

I still use the same homemade pizza dough recipe and sometimes still use Little Smokies. Tacos occur frequently in our dinner menu. I still like good sourdough bread. Fried chicken and mashed potatoes? Probably the meal I remember that's the closest thing to comfort food. We make chicken here at home, but bake it instead of fry it. I still love mashed potatoes.

But I have another meal that feels like comfort food. I imagine it was in my childhood somewhere, yet I don't remember who made it (mom, grandma, or great-grandma?).

Chicken and dumplings. Nothing better on a cool fall day.

Day 219 of 365

My husband has his funeral all planned out. He knows who he wants officiating, where he wants it held. I would suspect it'll be a full place on that day.

He's a popular teacher, well known in the community, and is someone who never shies away from visiting with students who have long since graduated. He might not see someone for 20 years but still recognizes them right off the bat and is able to strike up a conversation. I made fun of him for years because no matter where we went - including out of state - he would see someone he knows. Now it's no longer funny. It's expected. And he never forgets a face.

Being I've never been a social person, that's a skill I don't possess. Even people I should recognize, I don't. I imagine it comes from being engrossed in work and not people. Getting good grades and being smart has been my claim to fame. But I always compare myself to other people. When I do that, someone is always smarter, nicer, friendlier, more patient, better dressed. The one that bugs me the most is when I say to myself, "She/he is a better person than I am."

I say it a lot. I look at the qualities in other people and I see so much that I lack. It's not so much about being a perfect person, but wanting to be a better version of myself.

Right now the one thing I can turn to as proof of becoming a better version of myself is my sewing for others. I'm not sure why, but kids and soldiers (and kids of soldiers) have been the focus of my sewing.

Today, Stockings for Soldiers. 30 more stockings done.

Day 218 of 365

The abrupt change in our weather has signaled an abrupt change in my thinking.

Weather wise, it was 90 earlier this week and here today it appears the temperature might not get out of the 40s. Just a few minutes ago the weatherman said with the wind we have we have windchills in the 20s right now. Quite a shock on the system.

Another shock on the system happened yesterday. Something at work made me realize I've been putting myself last.

One of the biggest draws to taking this job was that it was part time and I had some flexibility in my schedule. That it would leave me time to recuperate in between work days, give me some down time to regroup. For some reason when I started back working, I thought I'd focus on work the days I was there, and my days off would be clear-headed and not about work. It hasn't quite worked out that way, and part of that is my own fault. I've fallen into the work is more important than anything routine. But yesterday's incident gave me the wake up call I needed.

A change of attitude on my part was in store. And that change of attitude came in handy today.

Our big, huge shade tree that keeps our roses shaded in the mornings and our back patio cool in the evenings has slowly been dying off. Every summer while sitting on the patio we talk about how thankful we are for such a tree. How heartbroken we would be if anything ever happened to the tree. We love that tree.

So a few weeks back we had a tree company take a look at the problem and they decided it might be some type of stress. Fast forward to today when we had that same tree company come out and prune the dead stuff out. When trimming up in the trees, bad news was delivered. It appears a fungus has overtaken our tree. There is no cure. And within 4-5 years our tree will be dead. I remember a few years back when we had to remove our big, beautiful front yard shade tree. I loved that tree so much I almost cried the day it was cut down.

If it wasn't for my new attitude change today, I would probably upset at the thought of losing this backyard tree. I am upset, but it's something I can't influence so it's not worth my worrying about.

That's what I realized at work yesterday. I can't change anyone else, I can't change the situation, or the amount of work, or who should do what. My limited amount of energy doesn't need to be spent on any of those things.

My energy needs to be spent on being happy. It's in my hands. It's not dependent on anyone else. It's not dependent on good luck or bad luck. Not on money or things. Not on cold weather or warm weather. Not on a job or on a tree.

My happiness belongs to me.

But being happy when my husband wants me to eat some freshly picked-from-the-garden kale? I'm trying to be happy on that one, but I'm not sure I can get there.

Day 217 of 365

I've learned quite a bit in these last few days.

Did you know that:

• If you grab the end of a shower curtain the wrong way you can get a big papercut?
• If you sew Christmas stockings for hours and hours you'll be using your foot pedal a whole bunch, and then your foot will be cramped up for several days making it difficult to walk?
• If you take off your wedding ring because your hands are achy and swollen, you'll never be able to get it back on again?
• The one and only time you don't have your camera close by is the day a coyote runs out of a cornfield into the middle of the road, waits for you to stop the car, then just stands there, daring you to do something?
• If you get overworked and can't keep your head on straight you could forget a friend's birthday? And that the only way you finally remember is because the friend tells you days later? (Sorry, Jan.)
• When you take curtains down from the west-facing window behind the computer and don't get around to putting up new ones because you haven't bought a new drill, the sun will shine in your eyes in the late afternoon and evening? And that the best way to keep the sun out of your eyes so you can keep typing is to wear a baseball cap you found behind the door?
• The white you see on the slice of bread in the morning isn't necessarily freezer burn? When lunchtime rolls around and you're eating that sandwich made from that bread it might taste a bit weird? And only after the sandwich is eaten does it occur to you it was not freezer burn but mold?
• When you have a spiky haircut and your hair starts falling out because of the medication you are on, people can see right through to your scalp everywhere? And if you decide to grow your hair out so people don't see your scalp so much, you'll still keep losing hair just as much but now you'll be leaving it behind everywhere?
• Cats are like teenagers? They wind up somewhere they have no business being and car keys are sometimes involved.

Fried Apple Hand Pies from Canned Biscuits - Day 216 of 365, Tutorial Tuesday

My mother made me do it. To be honest though, I made her do it.

On Day 183 I was celebrating my half-way mark. Half way to my journey of wherever it is I'm going.

On that day, my mom and daughter were here and we did some food-related activities. Picked tomatoes, bell peppers, and jalapenos. Made salsa. Baked zucchini bread, banana nut muffins, and fried some pies. Fried pies. A leftover from my childhood.

When I was growing up, we lived right next door to my grandparents. I spent all my days afterschool at their house and my grandmother used to make fried pies. I remember her electric skillet sitting on the counter as she fried them up.

I've never made them myself. I didn't even know how they were made - I just remember some type of fruit was involved and that they were delicious. So when my mom moved back to Idaho and I knew she was coming over, I wanted her to teach me to make fried pies. So on Day 183 I got a taste of how they were done.

If she only knew what she was in for.

Since I started these tutorials, I've been looking for things I've made or baked to show off. Except I'm not a fried pie expert. So I sent my mom on a mission. In between the time she made them at my house a while back and this week, her task was to find the best combination of crust and filling. She used small canned biscuits, jumbo canned biscuits, and pie crusts. She fried some, she baked some. She tried a dried peach filling, a dried apricot filling, and a canned apple pie filling.

She's researched and taste tested and is ready to unveil her recipe. It uses a bit of oil, a can of jumbo biscuits and a can of apple pie filling.

So today's tutorial is my mom showing us all how to make fried apple pies, just like her mom did.

 

  Click on the video for directions:

Day 215 of 365

I've heard you are either an Elvis person or a Beatles person. You can like them both, but you always like one more than another.

I'm a Beatles person. When I first discovered music in the 70s I was listening to Paul McCartney and Wings and John Lennon so I became interested in the Beatles. My memories of Elvis were not positive back then. By the time I started paying attention he had let himself go and was not very attractive. It wasn't appealing to watch him perform.

But years later I'd heard so much about Graceland that it went onto my bucket list. When we did our cross country trip a few years back it was one of our must-see places to visit. Stepping into the mansion was like stepping back in time. Same carpet, counter tops, and furniture, all in 1970s color scheme.

Only then did I appreciate Elvis more for what he had done than for what he had become. I started to like Elvis more. Over the past couple years I've even bought some Elvis fabric. Until yesterday I had no idea of how I was going to use it.

As I was cutting up all those stockings for Stockings for Soldiers, it occurred to me I might use some Elvis fabric. I was second guessing whether it would be a good choice. But Casey Kasem helped me decide. Last night I was listening to a repeat of his show from 1977. A year I remember well. How can someone forget when Leif Garrett and Shaun Cassidy had hits in the top 40? This repeat show mentioned several times about Elvis' death. (He had died just a few weeks earlier.) As I heard them talking about him again and again, I remembered the importance he played in music and sewed up those Elvis stockings.

11 more down.

Day 214 of 365

I don't know what it is about sewing that makes me enjoy it so much.

In my lifetime I've tried cross-stitch and counted cross-stitch. Candlewicking and crewel work. I've tried tole painting and scrapbooking. I've made wall hangings, pillows, padded picture frames, and Christmas ornaments. I've painted a garden scene on the side of our shed and I have scrapbooks full of pictures.

But I always come back to sewing.

Somehow attaching pieces of fabric to make some type of creation is relaxing. I love visiting fabric stores, I love buying fabric, and I love sewing the fabric. And these past few months the best type of sewing for me has been sewing for others. Sewing for those I don't know has given me a purpose.

If it wasn't for sewing for others, I couldn't throw numbers around like these. Since March 5th I have made:

• 17 kids quilts sent to either Quilts for Kids (for sick kiddos) or Operation Kid Comfort (for kids of deployed soldiers), and one to another organization
• 14 presentation cases for Quilts of Valor (for veterans)
• 2 quilt tops - one for a soldier, one for a diabetes auction
• 24 turtle pillows for The Painted Turtle Hole-in-the-Wall Camp (very sick kiddos)

57 items.

Now I get to throw some new numbers around:

• 4 more kids quilts to be done for Quilts for Kids. Two need to be quilted, two more kits are on the way.
• 5 more sets of pictures (which will equal 5 more quilts) for Operation Kid Comfort are headed my direction.

And a new project.

Stocking for Soldiers kicks off October 10. Stocking for Soldiers sews Christmas stockings, fills them with goodies, and sends them to troops in Iraq and Afghanistan. While I may not have the goodies to fill the stockings, thanks to my fabric stash I have plenty of Christmas fabrics. They provide the pattern, I make the stockings. At least 80 stockings worth. (I still have more fabric, but stopped cutting at 80.)

5 down and 75 to go.

Day 213 of 365

Today was a biggie. Two biggies. They might not seem biggies to most people, but they are to me.

First one - my husband sent a text message. He's made very few calls on the cell phone before (maybe a total of 4 or 5), but has never texted. Ever. He's not big into technology. While I have a certificate in teaching technology, he thinks computers are more trouble than they're worth.

But as we sat waiting for the next biggie to start, he asked me to teach him how to text. He didn't have a clue about what buttons to push or even how to find where to write a text message. He now knows how to read a text and reply to a text. He was quite proud (extremely proud) of himself. He texted me all afternoon even though we were sitting right next to each other, and he even fired off a couple to our daughter.

The second biggie was about us, and especially me. Over the past couple years, I have been pretty much home-bound. But I've gone to the movies with friends, with my husband, and even by myself during these last couple months. I made it to a concert just this past week. I feel like maybe I'm starting to be part of the outside world again, and today nudged me a bit closer.

Last Saturday on Day 206 we had gone out to eat, and when leaving the particular establishment (Buffalo Wild Wings), lots of Boise State football fans were pouring in to watch the game. We've never gone anywhere to watch the game but our own house. Never went to a bar or tailgate party. Nowhere. We've always watched the game alone. But when we saw all the fans last week and saw all the TVs in this particular place, we told ourselves we'd visit during the next afternoon BSU game. (When I made that commitment I didn't know it was going to be so soon.) But late this morning we went in and left about 4 hours later. Had some appetizers and later a lunch/dinner combo. We (even me) had a great time watching the BSU football game with a place full of Bronco fans.

2 biggies. And 63 TVs full of Boise State football.

Day 212 of 365

My mind has a bazillion things going through it right now and I just realized I haven't given the update on my second chance day (Day 208).

The second chance for Merle Haggard? He and Kris Kristofferson went back and forth on songs, and both of them forgot some lyrics. Last time when I saw Merle, his intoxication was the obviously the reason for his poor performance. This time, once he started the song again he got it right. But they both look old (because they are). It gives hope that even at that age, you can still contribute and have some life left in you.

The second chance for me? Finally making it to a concert again? Well, here's how it worked. We had seats in the third row. The third row in the orchestra pit. Since the third row orchestra pits seats aren't permanent seats, nice padded chairs were brought in. Comfy seats, lots of legroom, plenty of space to move and adjust, up close to the stage. My body made it through just fine. I don't know if there is another concert in the near future, but this one worked out well.

The second chance watermelon didn't turn out so well. Whenever we've grown watermelon in the past we've always winded up picking them too early. Despite when we plant them, they usually get hit by the frost before they are ready. But after looking at them carefully, we found one of the biggest ones out there. The one with the creamy yellow underbelly. Stuck it in the fridge, got it nice and cold, and cut into it for dessert.

It was pink. Not just pink, but light pink. I thought by chance it could have been a different variety and gave it a taste. Uh, no. So the big, beautiful, green striped watermelon had to go bye-bye. We still have several growing in the garden, so the second chance plants will just have to give us a second watermelon before the first freeze.

Pumpkins before the first freeze? Quite a lot, including this one. From hanging on dearly to my pea fence as a green pumpkin on Day 184 to a hanging on dearly to my pea fence as an orange pumpkin today.

Day 211 of 365

Every time I go to the doctor I feel like I'm digging a bigger hole for myself.

Today was the rheumatologist appointment and I had a couple things I wanted to find out about. The first one was about another medication - one for my back. On Day 190 when I was at the pain clinic one of the only acceptable options for me was an anti-inflammatory medication that I could use sparingly for a few months to provide some temporary relief. When the pain clinic doctor gave me the prescription he cautioned me that the use of this drug will cause an increase in the side effects of my methotrexate (the chemotherapy drug I take for the rheumatoid arthritis). So I hadn't taken that anti-inflammatory yet, hadn't had any temporary relief from the back pain yet. I wanted to check with the rheumatologist first. His answer today?

No. That medication is not something you should be taking.

The second thing I wanted to find out about was something to relief the miserable pain, stiffness, and swelling of my hands. My hands have always been the first to go. When I'm starting to have a flare-up I notice it in my hands first. I've given up crocheting. I've given up hand quilting. I squeeze toothpaste with the heel of my hand. I mostly wear slip on shoes. I can't grasp things, hold things, or balance things in my hands.

And now since my entire day at work is spent typing away (and I have several days of those in a row each week), my hands aren't getting better. In fact, they are getting worse. A lot worse. So I asked about some braces I can work in.

His answer? Yep, that might be a good idea. Except...

If the hands are getting worse despite the aggressive drugs I'm taking, we need to take a closer look. There should be no reason, even with the excess typing, that the pain, stiffness, and swelling should be not getting better and it especially should not be getting worse. So another ultrasound has been ordered. And if the results show the hands are the same or worse than before?

Another treatment. Just about the last option. An expensive option.

On Day 15, I started an expensive treatment. A $500+ a shot once-a-week treatment. Over $2,000 a month for one injectable medication. (Thank goodness for some insurance help.)

But this new, last ditch effort medication? Three starter doses, then doses every eight weeks (or could be more often). Each dose is a 2 hour IV. I have to sit in the infusion center for 2 hours at a time. But the cost is the worst part.

According to the nurse, around $10,000 a treatment. That's ten thousand dollars for each one of those IVs. Thirty thousand dollars right off the bat for the starter doses. $10,000 each time after that. I don't know what insurance covers, but imagine not all of it.

If that won't make a person depressed, I don't know what will.

So here at the end of the day, I'm retreating to my sewing room and am going to fold some fabric. Some bargain fabric I got this week. Perfect for kids quilts, and perfect for a different project I have coming up soon.

Day 210 of 365

I've always wanted to own a children's bookstore. Like Meg Ryan in You've Got Mail. I kept the idea in the back of my mind until I saw the movie. Since her business went under in the movie, I figured it might not be the best career move so I dropped the thought completely. Then I wanted to be an author. A children's book author. I have a couple rough drafts of stories I've worked on over the years, but haven't moved on either of them.

But something happened last week that made me think I might pick up those rough drafts again. I went to see the movie, The Help. By myself. Yep, I finally I made it to the movies.

I had watched the movie a while back with my husband, but since then I've read the book. I wanted to go back and see the movie again after reading it to do some comparisons between the two. The first time I saw the movie, I was engaged in the story of the lives of the maids. But when I watched it this time, I picked up on something else. The writing. If you haven't seen the movie or read the book, it's about people telling (and writing down) their stories. It occurred to me that I'm doing something similar. Nothing as grand or forward thinking or controversial as what's portrayed in the movie, but still my story.

Some days when I sit down to write the blog, I'm having a bad day and it is prevalent in my writing. Other days I've had some time to think things through and wind up telling stories (all true) about my life. I wonder if I tell enough of these stories I'll feel like a writer. Maybe I still have some of my own life stories to tell. Maybe someday something I say will have importance in someone's life besides my own.

They say if you want to write, treat it as a job and practice it every day. All day long during my real-work job I do nothing but formal writing - reports, plans, grants, and lots and lots of editing. At home, my writing is more casual with the daily blog. I'm getting tons of writing in - both formal and informal - so do I want to write even more so I can finish one of my books? I don't know.  Finishing a project that has been gnawing on me would be a nice thing to have complete.

Maybe my own rose garden's version of Charlotte's Web is a sign.

Make Chocolate and Candy Covered Caramel Apples - Day 209 of 365, Tutorial Tuesday

I've always tried to rationalize what I eat. Especially the not-so-good stuff. It's like those articles I read called Eat This, Not That. It spotlights different restaurants' choices and suggests which one is better than the other. Not that they're good for you, just that one is better.

My most frequent (and flawed) which choice is better thoughts:

• I'll eat a bigger dinner and then I won't want a sugary dessert.
• I'll eat a sugary dessert and then I won't want to eat a big dinner.
• I'll eat a fruit filled danish instead of a doughnut. At least I'll get some fruit in.
• I'll eat fried zucchini to get in some vegetables. Never mind that they're slathered in bread crumbs and fried in oil.
• Let's have green pepper and onion pizza instead of pepperoni. Must be healthier, even with all that greasy cheese.  
• Might as well make homemade french fries - they have to be better for you than restaurant fries.
• Caramel apples can't be that bad for you. They're made with apples for goodness sakes!

I'm not sure I can count today's picture and tutorial in the healthy department. Yep, there are apples involved. But they also have caramel. And chocolate. And Butterfingers.

They may not be healthy, but they are unbelievably tasty! Click on the video below for the directions:

This recipe is featured in Valentine's Day: 14 Ways to Say I Love You with Desserts. Pick up your copy today!

Day 208 of 365

I'm not a musically inclined person.

The most difficult class I took in college was Music 101. The second most difficult class was another Music class. I think I must be tone deaf or something, because when we had to distinguish between the different notes, I couldn't hear the difference. When other people listen to music they make comments about a particular instrument in the song, but I can't hear it.

But I like listening to music and even prefer it over TV. Don't know what I'm listening to, but I do listen. My tastes have changed over the years, though.

I started out in high school being into pop music. Then I shifted to rock. AC/DC, Foreigner, Rolling Stones. The Rolling Stones had a farewell tour in San Francisco when I was a teenager. I couldn't go, but listened to the SF radio station play each song as the Stones were playing it in the stadium. Being it was a farewell tour, I knew I'd never get to see them for real.

When I was a teen, I moved to Idaho and turned country. Barbara Mandrell, Willie Nelson, Conway Twitty, and Merle Haggard became listening staples.

Since then, I've listened to all types of music with no particular favorite. I've been to dozens of pop, rock, and country concerts and enjoyed Journey (my first concert) as much as I enjoyed Conway Twitty, Sting, The Monkees (oohh, Davey Jones), and The Rolling Stones (yep, saw them live in concert about 25 years after that farewell tour I missed).

But one concert - specifically one performer - has left me disappointed, and I never forgot it. Merle Haggard.

He was one of my favorite country singers and I got the chance to see him in concert not long after I moved to Idaho. But once I saw him on stage, my opinions changed. Merle Haggard was under the influence of something. Alcohol, maybe? Stumbling around the stage, slurring his words, forgetting his lyrics. The worst concert I have ever been to.

I decided right then and there I'd stop listening to him, stop buying his music. And I did. Every time his song came on the radio, I wasn't interested in paying attention.

But it's been almost three decades since that concert. It's finally time to give Merle Haggard a second chance. I'm also giving myself a second chance.

He gets his second chance tonight, after work. My husband and I are going to see Merle Haggard and Kris Kristofferson in concert in Boise. As for my second chance - after giving away my Elton John tickets back on Day 37 (Marcie told us about the concert and sent us a picture on Day 39), it's time to try and get myself back to a concert.

I hope it all turns out well. I know the second chance I gave my watermelons worked out well. The late cold weather in the spring (like where the tulips were covered with snow on Day 58) made for dead watermelon plants. I purchased new ones later in the season and hoped we'd get watermelons before the first fall frost.

The second chance watermelon are ready to be picked. Let's hope the watermelons are tasty, Merle Haggard is good, and I can make it through a concert again.

Day 207 of 365

I have been a bit confused about something.

For some reason I had difficulty posting my videos straight to the blog. I should have pursued the issue more, but decided to try and see if I could get them to work through YouTube. When I started putting them on YouTube then posting them from there to the blog, I was able to get them working with no problems. Based on your suggestions (thank you!) I've been filming my tutorials for Tutorial Tuesday beforehand. I either film them over the weekend or on Monday. Then I edit and upload them to YouTube. From YouTube I post them when Tuesday comes around. It was all working well.

Except something weird started happening.

I started getting comments from people about my videos. Comments on Sundays and Mondays, before I ever had the video up on the blog. I also started getting e-mails from YouTube about people "subscribing" to my videos.

So here's what I've figured out so far. All my videos I've uploaded are collected together on a "channel". My channel. People can view the videos on my channel, and (I think) if they "subscribe" they receive notification when I post a new one (even though it's not on the blog yet).

So some folks (don't know if they're blog readers or not) are getting the first look at the tutorials. So it's only fair for me to give you the channel info - just in case you're wanting to be one of those first-look folks. My channel is the debp33 channel. (I must have signed up under a different log-in than DebzDays.) And if you're not a YouTube person, I'll still be posting the tutorial on the blog on Tutorial Tuesday.

It's small potatoes, but as of right now I've had 19 people view the channel and 1,782 people view the videos. Wow!

Speaking of numbers, have you noticed the map on the right side of the page here? Over 9,000 visitors to the blog so far. Another wow!

The third and best wow of the day? The picture of our Orange Dream rose, of course.

Day 206 of 365

I used to be embarrassed about where my degree is from. At the time I was attending, the university had both lackluster academic and athletic programs.

Before my time on campus, the football program had seen some success during its junior college days in the 1960s and then later saw success in the 70's with a record-breaking quarterback. (A quarterback who, after graduating from college, happened to have worked in my school district for umpteen years.) In 1980 a national championship was won. My husband was working with the team then, and has his own championship ring to prove it. And his championship football team picture and his Letterman's jacket is hanging on the wall downstairs.

Then for the next 15-20 years the university's football team was competitive, but didn't come close to great successes seen in the past.

As students we went to lots of games. We lived just a block from the stadium, walked to the game, and never worried about not being able to get tickets. Not great seasons equaled easy-to-obtain student tickets. Once we graduated we mostly stopped watching the games, and every time alumni conversations came up I kept my mouth quiet.

But now people are proud to have graduated from Boise State, home of the blue turf, ranked number four in the nation as of today.

Even those who don't have any connection to the university are decked out in gear, buying up tickets, and clustered around TV sets everywhere on game days. Just late this afternoon my husband and I had gone out to an early dinner and found fans streaming into the restaurant as we left. (My husband certainly noticed and we made plans to be in attendance at the joint for the next afternoon game.) The grocery store was packed with fans, decked out in their blue and orange, buying up snacks last minute.

It has even impacted us. One of my daughter's classmates and husband's former students/players is a star defensive tackle on the team. I noticed my husband had his alumni shirt on today. We listened to the pregame as we were driving home.

Guess I've jumped on the bandwagon, too. Not too much - I don't have any blue and orange clothing yet.

Today's picture is orange, though. But not a happy orange picture. One of our monarch butterflies somehow met a not-so-pleasant fate and the results were evident on my gravel path.

Day 205 of 365

All my titles at work carry a certain amount of respect with them, but it seems my personal projects don't.

At work I have three job titles/descriptions attached to my name.  On Day 106 the first job came. On Day 184 I took an additional position. Then just this week I was offered an another additional job at my same school. Three job descriptions attached to my name now and some new responsibilities.

This is definitely going to be my last add-on position. When I signed this new contract yesterday, I told the gal this would be the last one I would sign because I needed time for my charity work. Why did I say charity work? It sounds like I'm working in a soup kitchen or blood bank. What if I had said I needed time for blogging? That would have been an even bigger mistake - being a "blogger" carries with it a certain negative connotation.

So just how do I describe my personal projects? I don't. When asked what I do when I'm not at work, I usually just respond with I do a lot of sewing. As much as I'm proud of what I do each and every day, I can't figure out a quick and easy response.

I write, I photograph, I document. I quilt and I sew for sick children and children of deployed military personnel. Through my videos, I teach people how to do quick and easy projects.

But it's more than that. I'm part of my own personal growth project. A project that is keeping me moving forward on most days. A project where I find ways to deal with the pain and frustration of injuries and rheumatoid arthritis. A project that prevents me from being lazy and forces me to make the best of each day.

Okay, I admit it - I really don't know how to describe what I'm doing.

I can describe today's picture, though. Sunshine-y.

In other news - we have a 200th Day Giveaway WINNER!

The random number generator picked comment number five. Number five was Pam who wrote, "Debbie, You always amaze me with your talents and patience.GOOD JOB!" So Pam, use the "Contact Me' button at the very bottom of this page so I can send the goodies your way. Congrats!

Day 204 of 365

This isn't a cooking show, mom.

Words uttered from my daughter more than once. When she's home we work on building her repertoire of recipes. And the details, information, and expressive language I use when teaching her how to cook and bake sound like a cooking show to her, I guess. When she says, This isn't a cooking show, mom, it's a signal to me that I'm giving her too much information. But now she's even getting it when she's not home - by watching my tutorials. Just yesterday she let me know I use my "teacher voice" in them. Whatever.

Yet...

I was flipping through channels yesterday and came across Guy Fieri's Big Bite on the Food Network. I have watched his other show, Diners Drive-Ins and Dives where he travels around the country, focusing on small restaurants and the foods they cook. But this show, Big Bite, is a show where he's cooking different things in his kitchen. My husband has watched the show many times but I always skip it.  But this time I left the channel on it. (And it wasn't because of his hair - oh, I do love his hair. For many years I had short spiky hair, dyed with blonde highlights, but never dyed like his. I wish I would have been bold enough to go as blonde and spiky as he does, but I never got there.)

As I sat there watching Guy grab things from the fridge and cabinet, talking about techniques and why he uses what he uses and what could be substituted, I thought, Oh my gosh, that's me. When I do tutorials, I add all that extra chit-chat into the video. But since I'm trying to keep my videos just a few minutes in length I wind up editing all that extra conversation out. Leaving it all in would probably make for an entertaining cooking show or sewing show, but I'm not sure the world needs another one of either.

According to my daughter, one thing that doesn't get edited out is that "teacher voice". As I thought more about what my she said, was she implying the "teacher voice" was a good thing or a bad thing? (You can bet I'll be asking her on that one.)

One thing that is a good thing is my picture of the day. The Canadian Geese were flying around on my early morning walk this morning. I was patient, hoping to catch them flying over the river. They weren't cooperative, so an orange morning sky background will have to do.