Thursday, December 20, 2012

A "Brobee" for Madysen

I'm going to start this blog post by answering the question that is (most likely) first and foremost on your mind;
                   
This is a Brobee. 

Don't feel bad if you didn't know what it was. I didn't really know either until about the first part of November. This little guy is a character on my niece Madysen's favorite show, "Yo Gabba Gabba". If you, your children or grandchildren have never watched it, take my advice; Don't. 
It's a pretty silly show, with lots of funny little monsters who run around and sing. Now, granted, they do teach them things about manners, etc, but the way they go about it is nuts. 

Anyway, Brobee is Mady's favorite, so as her 3rd birthday grew closer, November 29th, Brittany came to me asking if I could make a Brobee cake for her party. I'd been taking a cake decorating class for the month of November, and I was kind of anxious to do something on my own, but I wasn't sure if I was up to this kind of challenge. 
Brittany and I sat down and Googled "Brobee birthday cake" and guess what. Apparently this is one popular little monster. Tons and tons of cakes were out there, so after looking through about 100 pictures, we picked out some of our favorites and started brainstorming. Brittany decided on the basic design, then I added a few  special touches of my own. Once the draft design was drawn, I studied it for a couple days and then got to work. I decided to bake it at the music store because it was that much closer to Brittany's house. hahaha



My first thought was to make the cake itself green. Then, when we sliced into it, he would have the Brobee stripes. So we did that. This is the batter before it was baked........


.....and after. 


Awesome right? Now, I have to apologize for the lack of pictures as I describe this next section. It took me a long time to decorate this little guy, and once I got on a roll, I didn't take time out for pictures. 
As for the main design of the cake, I have to give all the credit to Brittany. She told me exactly what she wanted. It was then my job to figure out how to make that happen for her. She wanted Brobee's face to be a lighter shade of green than his body. Check. That's not much of a problem. Just a little extra food coloring.
As for the Brobee "horns", I thought if I made some flat sugar cookies, I could just ice them with red icing. The trouble was going to be getting them to stand up on his "head". Coffee stirrers to the rescue! I baked the cookies with the stirrers already inside, then I used more to prop them up on his head. 

Brittany also wanted a flat cookie laying next to the cake, similar to the shape of the Yo Gabba Gabba sign.

However, instead of saying "Yo Gabba Gabba!", she wanted it to have a big M on it. So, more cookies to shape and bake, but at least this time I didn't need to stick wooden coffee stirrers in them. hahaha 

When all was said and done, I was SO happy about how everything turned out. 



I think the birthday girl even liked her cake. 


And.......I was right. It looked pretty awesome when it was cut.  


 So, all in all, I have to say that my first solo cake turned out pretty good. It even tasted good. Which goes a long way on a cake resume. Happy birthday, Mady. Ninny is happy you got your Brobee. 

Friday, November 16, 2012

Being a bachelorette stinks!

The original title of this post was going to be "28 days......a glimpse into the life of a Walmart widow"
But I got to thinking it might be a little too dramatic, and since my writing skills are on the 0-3 range, I opted for the current title. That way it saves disappointment.

Dan has received a promotion at work, and is now an Assistant Manager at one of the larger Walmart stores in the area. I'm so very proud of him. He definitely deserved it. However, I'm not so sure about this whole training business because it is the reason that I've been having to live alone.

My past living history is a simple one. I lived in my parents home until I was 21 and then I got married.  From that point, I have lived with my husband and have never been alone. Except for a time or two when he would have to work overnight or the time that he went to Nashville for 4 days to play music. During those 4 days I think I cried almost constantly until mom would look at me and tell me to "straighten up and calm down". (I'm still confused as to how I go both up and down at the same time, but mom knew best.) I remember being miserable the whole time and only going home to sleep. I was offered my old room at my parents house, but declined saying that I needed to learn to be alone. I've always been glad that I did that, and I think mom and dad were too.......even though they never said anything.
So now, it's not just 4 days.......it's 5 days and 5 nights per week for 4 weeks. Talk about culture shock!

I have to say that the first week wasn't that bad. Essentially the days went by pretty fast and I would spend the evening time with my dad. I was always home by 8:30 to 9 and could relax in my own home (in Dan's recliner) and watch whatever I wanted on TV while snacking on things that maybe I can't eat when Dan's home........like bananas. (I didn't eat bananas in his chair. I'm not cruel!) I didn't really worry if I kept the dishes done, or if I did laundry, because it was just me. I knew I'd get around to it sometime before he came home. (Not saying that my house is always spotless when Dan's home, but I like to have it cleaned as much as possible) I only use half the bed, so it's really easy to make up the next morning. Plus if I was asked to stay late at the store, or if something came up where I couldn't be home at a reasonable hour, I didn't worry because supper would be late. I'd just catch a bite on the run, or have a bowl of cereal when I got home. All of these things were pretty cool the first week, and I really didn't mind those first 5 days. JUST....the first 5 days.

When Friday of that week rolled around, I got up extra early, cleaned everything up, made a lemon pie and put some soup fixings in the crock pot. I have to say everything looked and smelled great. Like a home. I left the store early just to come home and do final preparations and enjoy my singleness in a clean house. The only problem was, I couldn't enjoy being alone. I was looking too forward to that yellow Nissan turning in the driveway. Once it did, everything was complete. I felt like me again. We had a good couple of days together.....then Sunday came.

Now, my brain didn't really want to start processing week 2, because, as I've said, 4 days is all we've ever been apart up to that time. After we'd made it that first week, my brain kept saying that was all there was to it, and he was home to stay.  So after church that night when I came home to an empty house again, I think my brain was thinking Dan was hiding in the closet or something. I kept going through some of the same situations I have about mom right now. Looking around for them........starting to say something and realizing they're not there.......saying "I'll need to ask them about it tonight".......etc.
I'm very fortunate, because I can still talk to Dan. All I have to do is text him and he'll answer me. I can't do that with mom. So, I think that thought helped me through that 2nd week. If I would ever get down and start feeling sorry for myself, I would try and remind myself of that very fact.

In spite of all the trouble I had those first couple days, week 2 still wasn't really bad. By this time, I started feeling really lonely when I went to sleep. So, I piled all the pillows on Dan's side of the bed, just so there would be a person sized lump there. And I turned on my TV every night to sleep by, so there would be noise in the room. Both of these things helped me SO much. I was actually able to sleep at night instead of "cat napping" all night, and I desperately needed sleep. I had a terrible cold and felt just plain awful. For the first time in my life, I wasn't living with someone to take care of me. Growing up was pretty much the only option. I mean, dad was there, but he's never had the caring touch that mom or even Dan has had when I was sick.
I lived in a fog for a couple days and really took advantage of not cooking or cleaning. I just plain didn't feel like it, so I didn't do it. I think it was Thursday of that week before I started getting over my cold enough to feel human again, which was great. I talked to myself like crazy trying to not get too excited about Dan coming home that weekend. I didn't want my brain going through what it went through before, so I kept telling myself that we were only half way done with this whole training process. Even as I was saying it, I knew my brain wasn't buying it, so I got just as excited as ever. The only trouble with that was neither one of us had a very good week; Can we say grumpy?

2 weeks of motel life with a stranger is not something that Dan can accept very easy. I can't blame him, I wouldn't be able to handle that at all. I feel like I'm too personal of a person to just move in and live with someone I've never met before. I think he'd only managed to get about 10 hours sleep for that whole week he was gone, so he did NOT feel like talking about his experiences from that week. I think Friday night I fell asleep about 8:30, had an auction on Saturday that I had to leave at 5 AM for, didn't get home until after 6 that night, fell asleep again sometime before 9, and then it was Sunday again. Plus Dan's "sidekick" wasn't riding with him this week so Dan wanted to leave at noon. We really didn't see each other that weekend, and I think that's what made week 3 so hard.

Week 3 was the one where I nearly broke down. Everything seemed twice as hard as it normally did. I felt myself drifting into a fog and I really didn't want to see anyone or do anything. I think if I had been able, I would have stayed at home every day......in bed.....with a big bowl of pudding or something. I would have sunk into a super bad depression and probably spent most every day in tears. Monday and Tuesday drug by.....and Wednesday wasn't so great either. It was one of those weird moments when you do lots of stuff, thinking that you're killing all this time but in reality it only took you ten minutes. I hate that. Where is that super speed when you need it?
When I reached the down hill slope (Wednesday night), I could finally start perking up again. Then, I would start rationalizing; "I've only got two days and two nights left! Well, really, it's only one day because he'll be coming home Friday.....and really it's only one more night because it's already night now........so one day and one night....." This would go on for a while. I'd try to think of how I could arrange my schedule so I could be home when he got there, etc. I'm pretty sure that week 3 was the hardest for both of us.
I would try to remember what it was like when we were dating and would only see each other every one to two months.....and only for a few hours. At times that would help, but otherwise I was pretty much left to my self pity.
That weekend went much better, although I was working again on Saturday, but it wasn't as late and I didn't fall asleep so early.

Now comes the final push. Week 4. I actually thought this would be my toughest week. I pictured myself sitting at home, bawling my eyes out, pining for my husband who couldn't be there. (OK, so I can be dramatic. lol) Truth is, it wasn't like that at all. It was more like the first week. I was home a lot more because dad was spending more time with Russ, but it was still nice. I would pop in a movie, or watch an episode or two of a series I'm currently interested in on Netflix, eat snacks, sit in the recliner........things weren't all bad......but it wasn't all snacks and tv either. I was empty inside.

Finally, we reach the end of our journey. Today is Friday.....at the end of week 4. I feel as though I'm a better person for going through this experience with as little discomfort as possible, and I'm proud of both Dan and myself for handling it as well as we have. But truth be known, I wouldn't trade him for anything, and I'm so very thankful that my "bachelorette" days are over. They really do stink.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Proverbs 31 Woman


PROVERBS 31:10-31

10 Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies.
11 The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil.
12 She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.
13 She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands.
14 She is like the merchants' ships; she bringeth her food from afar.
15 She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens. 
16 She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard.
17 She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms.
18 She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night.
19 She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff.
20 She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.
21 She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet.
22 She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple.
23 Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land.
24 She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant.
25 Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come.
26 She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.
27 She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness.
28 Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.
29 Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.
30 Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised.
31 Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.

People can interpret bible verses so many different ways. I know of some that would probably read this and say "Ok, to be a virtuous woman I have to make all my own clothes for me and all my family, spin my own wool, grow a vineyard, never touch any makeup, and be perfectly kind to every single person I meet. I don't necessarily see it that way. Let's talk a little more about this.

 

I was recently reading a post on Facebook, entitled;

"10 things NOT found in Proverbs 31".

I was intrigued, so I read it. It goes like this;

10 THINGS NOT FOUND IN PROVERBS 31


1. Her coffee table never has dust on it.

2. Many have eaten off her kitchen floor.


3. Better Homes and Gardens just did a photo shoot in her living room.

4. She does all of the housework herself while the kids play Wii.

5. All of the words that flow from her children’s mouths are blessed.

6. All of her children are straight A students, musical geniuses, and all-star athletes.

7. Her hair is always fixed perfectly and her make-up is artfully applied.

8. She does not touch make-up or hairspray because it is vain and the art of Satan.

9. She never makes a bad decision.

10. She is classroom mom, PTO President, the bearer of orange slices at soccer games, and the church committee queen.

I can't really say why, for sure, but that really slapped me in the face. Was it because it was wrong? No. It really doesn't say that in Proverbs. I think what really got me was the fact that I was trying to be.......this person. The "NOT found in Proverbs" woman. Let me explain. 
Ever since my mom passed away, I've been wanting to be perfect. OK, not perfect in every way, but a perfect wife. I wanted to get my house in perfect condition, keep everything put away, always have nice meals cooked to perfection, wonderful desserts (home made at least once a week), the yard all landscaped and kept mowed all the time, and basically just everything........perfect. 
I thought if I could do that, I would be someone that mom would have been proud of. I would be the type of woman that she was. 
Now, after re-reading that last sentence, it gives the impression that my mom was perfect......and she was. As my mother, she was perfect. Was the house always clean? No. Were there always 3 home made meals a day? No. Did she always think before she spoke? No. But she was perfect? Yes. 

"11: The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil."

"12: She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life."


"28 Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her."

My dad has said many times that he couldn't have been more blessed to have had my mom because she was a "virtuous woman". I never really thought too much about that when I was younger. Mom was just......mom. She did her best to make sure her family was taken care of. She paid the bills on time, kept the house as best she could (until she was too sick to do it anymore), cooked, took care of all of us, and so much more. But now as I've grown, I say she was wonderful.

"15 She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens."

"20 She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy."

"26 She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness"


OK, so there are lots of ways to interpret these verses, but I can say that mom always took care of her household. She didn't always get up before dawn to make dad breakfast, but he was still taken care of. Maybe mom didn't volunteer at a soup kitchen every weekend, but I can guarantee she never let anyone go hungry in her presence. And her words were always spoken with wisdom, even if it didn't seem kind at the time.

"30 Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised."

Verse 30 says it all. "A woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised." This is what mom was all about. She feared God and was a servant to Him all the days of her life. That is what made her a virtuous woman. That is what she wanted from me, and what would make her proud. It doesn't really matter if nothing is perfect, because I can still be a virtuous woman by trying to do my best. By trying to be what God wants me to be and by following Him, fearing Him, and serving Him. 
This doesn't mean that I won't fail. That I won't still try and have things perfect, even though I know that it's next to impossible to do, but now I realize more than ever that the first thing on my list should always be fear God and put Him first. 

Thanks, mom. You have taught me the true meaning of being a true Christian wife and mother. 
I pray that I can be just like you. 

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

With broken heart.

This blog has been coming for a while.  As in......about 2 1/2 weeks.

I've not been able to bring myself to write it, even though I know it's something that needs to be done.

See, my wonderful mom......the one that I have talked about so much on here......the one that I loved to pieces.....my best friend.....the one that I was so sure was getting better.........she passed away on August 30th. I can't begin to describe how much I miss her.

At a time like this, I've heard it's really easy to get mad at God. I've heard it, but I'm not mad at God. Confused? Yes. Sad? Extremely. Do I feel like I'm in a bad dream? Absolutely. But can I change it? No.
Therefore, I could never be mad at God. He has blessed me beyond compare, and on top of everything, He gave mom to us longer than He could have. If we think about it, He could have taken her way back in 2007 when she lost her arm. We were fortunate enough to have her for 4 1/2 more years.

I don't want to ask why, but I can't seem to stop. We know God sent us the herbal tea she was on, and we truly thought it was working. She had every single sign and signal that the tea was working to break up her cancer. But it didn't. I can't say that it didn't help her at all, because I saw that it did with my own eyes. She was strong right up to the very end. She was alert, her memory was amazing, she had an appetite........just so many things that were a true blessing to her. But it just wasn't enough to completely heal her.......here. I think it did make it easier for her to slip out of this world and go home to Heaven, though. And there, she is completely healed. Whole once again.
I really try not to question, but sometimes I can't help it. I feel like we prayed and prayed and prayed to keep her here, and yet she's gone. There are times that I feel like it's my fault. Like I could have done something more to keep her, or that I didn't take good enough care of her, but then when I think about it, I'm still left at a complete blank, because I don't know what I could have done that would have changed anything. I know dad blames himself, too, and so does Russ. I think it's just normal when you love someone like we loved her.......like we still love her.

I have many, many good and wonderful memories of mommy in my lifetime, but her last days are etched in my memory and I can't seem to stop thinking about them. The look on her face as she was at home and gasping for breath, the way she turned blue before the paramedics got there, the way that I saw the color come back to her face once they put the oxygen on, how limp her body was when they put her on the stretcher, and most of all, the sadness that engulfed me when the doctor at the hospital told us that mom could never breathe on her own again, and the best thing to do would be to let her go in peace. Her lungs were so full of the cancer, she would never be able to get rid of it all. There was nothing that could be done.
We were in the room with her as she took "her last step of faith" as our preacher said at the funeral. We were crying, making sure we all said that we loved her, hugging her, kissing her, and just being there. She would have wanted it that way. I know she heard us, and knew we were there. At that time......she was ready to go.

That's the comfort I get. Knowing that she was ready to meet God. And not only that she was ready, but that she had prepared for that moment over 45 years ago when she was saved. I know that she's in Heaven right now, and that is my comfort. Knowing that I'll see her again one day......that's even more comfort.
In all reality and honesty, I wouldn't bring mom back to this world to be sick like she was for anything. No matter how much I miss her. See, I'm grieving now, but I'm not really grieving for mom. Mom doesn't need me to be sad for her. She's extremely happy! She doesn't even know that I exist. There are all kinds of people that say "Well, she's looking down on you now." But she's not. I accept this fact, because I know how Heaven is. If my mom looked down and saw me sitting here crying the way I do every day, she wouldn't be happy. She'd be so sad, and she would miss me, and she would want to come back and try to comfort me. Then she would cry. And there are no tears in Heaven.

Most days, I'm OK. I go to work and I try to occupy my mind with other things, and most of the time I can get through the day. But then.......it will get to be about 2 in the afternoon, and I'll think "I think I'll text mom and see what she's up to." And then I just stop. I just stop whatever I'm doing and realize that she's not there. Then I have to try and talk myself out of thinking the whole thing has been some awful dream. It's all I can do to keep from slapping myself to try and wake up.
I would give anything to talk to her again. Just to ask her things. Maybe silly things......or recipes that she's told me a hundred times that I never bothered to remember, just because I always thought I'd be able to ask again. Now I can't.

I have wonderful support. First of all, God is there and I pray all the time for help. I know He comforts me and will continue to do so. And Dan is the best husband I could ever ask for. He's been there with me through everything and I couldn't ask for him to do more. Dad and Russ are great as far as being there for me, and I try to be there for them too. It seems we all have bad days at different times. Another blessing from God. If we were all down at the same time, it would be completely miserable. But this way, we're able to remind each other that mom is so much better now, and that we shouldn't begrudge her that just because we're selfish.

Dad started back to work this week, and I began my new day to day. Before, when mom was well, I was always at her house by 8, and that was our time to visit before work. Now, 8 rolls around and I feel as though I need to be doing something.......but there's nothing. So, I'm throwing myself into my housework, sorting through things that we never use to send to auction, doing some baking, and just trying to establish a new normal. It won't be easy, by any means, but I have no other choice.

I have a strong feeling that I will never get over wanting to talk to her, or see her, or spend time with her, even though she's gone. I'll never stop having that feeling of needing to call her in the middle of the afternoon just to see how she's doing. I'll never get over the feeling of an empty space at church on Sunday or the lunch thereafter. I'll never stop thinking about asking her to ride along with me every time I go somewhere. And every time I go to cook something, I'll second guess myself and turn to ask her if I'm doing it right.
That's what a big influence she was in my life. And I never want her to leave me completely. I'm thankful and blessed to have had her for the 25 years that I have, and she will forever live on in my heart.

I love you mommy. See you soon. 

Thursday, August 23, 2012

The Anniversary Edition

Allow me to tell a story. Why? Because I'm feeling sentimental today. See, today is my 4 year wedding anniversary.

I love my wedding band set. Dan did a good job. 


My story may seem a bit long because I want to tell every memory that I can squeeze in, because most every one of them sticks out in my mind......just like it all started yesterday instead of 8 years ago.


My story starts one day in 2004, when my brother told me that he was looking for an acoustic guitar player for his bluegrass gospel band. He told me how his band needed better balance, more drive, and just a solid sound in general......and it wasn't happening while he was playing guitar. He needed to be playing mandolin. So, the search began.
Honestly, I don't remember what time of year that was. I just know that a few days later, a fellow musician (a fiddle player, to be more exact) came in to the music store. He asked Russ how the band was coming along and Russ explained his current situation. The fiddler spoke to Russ about a young man he had met just that year. His name was Daniel O'Callaghan and he picked a flat-top like nobody's business, was 21...........and was a Mennonite. I wasn't there during this conversation, but Russ told me later how he had argued with the fiddler. How he told him that Mennonite people didn't play music, but had finally just shut up about it and arranged to meet the young man.
When the day came that "Daniel" was supposed to come up for an audition, I couldn't help but be excited. I was loving what Russ was doing with this band. I had just started getting into the bluegrass sound at this time, and the the fact that my brother was attempting to form a real bluegrass touring band was intriguing to me. Plus I was 16 (almost 17) at the time and there was supposed to be a 21 year old male musician coming around that evening. Why shouldn't I be excited?
Later that afternoon, I was teaching a fiddle student, when I needed to accompany them on one of their songs. I didn't have a guitar in the room with me, so I decided to borrow one from the wall out front. I picked a Martin acoustic that we had. In fact, it was the only Martin we had in the store at that time. After I grabbed it, I headed back in and finished up with my lesson. As I was right at the end of the lesson, I overheard Tyler talking to someone, explaining how a section of a song was to be played. He was here! I strained to listen, but I wasn't able to hear anything that he played. When I finished up with my student, I came out of the teaching room, I looked all around, but I didn't see anyone different. I thought maybe I had made it all up and he wasn't really here yet at all. No, he was here......in the bathroom. I stalled around a little, wanting to get a look at this guy before I left. I had tried and tried to imagine what he looked like since the minute I knew he was coming, and I'm afraid I had built up quite the story in my mind. I knew he wasn't a Mennonite because of playing the guitar, so I wasn't worried there. I had imagined him to be......"the one". I thought maybe we'd see each other and fall instantly in love. Then we'd date, marry, and live happily ever after. You know, teenage girl fantasies. Finally, the bathroom door opened and he walked out. He was.....not what I expected. He was just about my height, painfully skinny, and he wore these huge glasses. He was just wearing plain blue jeans, and a green long sleeved shirt. Hmmm. I shouldn't have built him up inside my mind. I just had a feeling that he was going to be something special, but I guess I was wrong. This wasn't going to be the man of my dreams. And it wasn't love at first sight. I mean, after all, he didn't look or act like I was expecting him to, so I just shut him out.....or tried to. Unsuccessfully, I might add. For the next few months, I thought about him quite often, and I was excited to go to any Mount Zion show just so I could see him. He was so quiet, and I was pretty backward when it came to men, so we never talked. But I could sit in the audience and look at him, all the while trying to figure out what exactly I was feeling for him.

This is what Dan looked like about a year into our relationship.
I would have loved to have found our first picture together, just so you could see how much we've changed. 


By June of 2005, through a series of Mount Zion shows, practices, and family events that happened during the time that "Daniel" was staying with Russ, we had actually started talking to each other a little. The more that I talked to him, the more I liked him. He had a really good sense of humor, he was sweet, kind, super smart, and the fiddler was right. Not only was he an outstanding guitarist, he was an all around amazing musician. I also learned that he hated being called by his full name, so that stopped immediately. From that point, he would forever be "Dan".

I remember one June night that year when we all gathered at mom and dad's (then my home as well) to watch a video of Russ and Skyla's recent trip to Alaska. Dan and I sat next to each other on the sofa, completely an accident of course, and ended up making fun of that video all night.
(Now, Russ and Skyla are reading this, I'm sure, and I do want to apologize for us doing that. It's not something we originally planned to do, but you gave us so much material to work with. "Here is our room.......here is our bathroom......here is our ironing board....." We just couldn't help ourselves.)
It's still one of our great memories that we feel helped bring us together, and we still laugh about it today.
I believe it was the next day at the music store when Dan and Tyler started playing a little song. They had just written it, and Tyler suggested writing words for it. I, however, suggested it be an instrumental and how it should be named after me. A day or two later I received an email from Dan telling me about how my song should have a "dreamy and imaginative title......like "Nikki's Song". Being the dummy that I was, I took that as a compliment, and thought that he must really like my name. I came to find out later that he was being sarcastic. Oh, well. Sometimes we girls have to imagine compliments.
By the time July came around, we were chatting on a semi regular basis. He had asked me to be in a show with him and Tyler and we would form an acoustic trio of contemporary christian music. The "Acoustic Worship Experience", also known as AWE, would debut at the Garden Show in Mansfield MO in August, so we spent a lot of time working on songs for that show, and just generally getting to know one another.
My 18th birthday was July 23rd 2005. I was in town early that afternoon when my cell phone rang. It was Dan asking me to have mercy on him and come to Russ's and pick him up. When I asked why, he replied with just two words; Alaska video. Apparently Russ had company and was planning to show them the dreaded video that very afternoon. I agreed to come pick him up, and we decided it would be a great time to practice for our upcoming show. I had asked Dan to be at my birthday party a few weeks prior, so he would have been over that night anyway. I told him I was to have a Rascal Flatts cake, made in to the shape of the "dead dog" that was for so many years their logo. I told him that if he came to my party, he could have any piece he wanted. He said he wanted the little "x" eyes. I knew he was joking, but I never forgot that. At my party that night, I served his piece of cake first, before I even got one of my own. I'm sure you can imagine the look on his face when he received a piece of cake with 2 x's on it. After the festivities were dying down at the house, we decided to take a drive to the "Louisburg Picnic". A yearly event that always falls on or around my birthday. It's almost like a county fair, and it's just about 12 miles from where I live.
That's the night it happened. That's the night that we officially became "us". We were already a couple before that, but it was never really noticed......by us. Everyone else knew, but we were in completely oblivious.
We were watching the band perform on the stage, when this girl who was probably about my age got up to sing. One of the band members introduced her as "the most beautiful girl in the world.....inside and out.". I just kind of sat there making a face, when Dan scooted closer to me. I smiled and so did he. Later on, when that same girl started to come out in to the audience, I leaned closer to Dan and started teasing him about how some chick was after him. Then I said "Well, she's not getting you while I'm here!" and I reached out my right arm and linked it through his left. The first time we ever touched, and neither one of us wanted to let go. We held hands the rest of the night, and much of the next day, while traveling to and from church. Our official relationship wasn't determined so much that day, as it was the following Monday on the phone when we talked for 3 hours. That was the start of many.....MANY.....long conversations we would have over the next 2 years. Living apart was pretty awful, but I think it made us appreciate the time we were able to be together all the more. We talked about anything and everything, including that first day when I met him at the music store. He openly admitted his annoyance with me for "taking the only decent guitar in the place" away before he even had a chance to play it. I hadn't even seen him there, so I guess the love at first sight that I had planned on hadn't happened with either of us. I don't think that actually exists anyway. Love is something that develops and grows the longer you're together. But I guess that's a discussion for another time.

Even if I did have time to tell you every event that happened in the 2 years following that fateful night, I probably wouldn't. Let's just suffice it to say that we had a lot of good times, some bad ones, we fought, we made up, we went out, we ate in, and Dan ended up moving to Buffalo to be close to me on December 30th 2006. On my birthday in 2007, I was turning 20 and it was our 2 year anniversary. We had planned to spend the entire day together, starting with breakfast. I arrived at his apartment about 7:30 AM, if my memory serves correctly, and went inside to take his gift. I had actually thought we'd eat first, then come back to open the presents. I had only thought this because I knew Dan's stomach. See, he may have been painfully thin when I met him, but after being around me, mom, and our amazing cooking skills for 2 years, he had grown into a healthy boy. (And he actually grew in height as well, and is now a couple inches taller than me.) But when I went in, he wanted to open our gifts first. I thought it odd, but wasn't going to refuse. He gave me several things, including an MP3 player, and when I thought we were all done, he stepped over to his computer desk and picked up an envelope. He said there was "just one more gift" he wanted to give me. I somehow knew what was in that envelope. When I opened it, I saw I was right. It was a gold band with a single diamond on it. Right next to it was an empty taco sauce packet from Taco Bell. Now, if you've never seen one of these, they have clever sayings on them, such as "Ahhhh, we meet again." and "I see how you look at other sauces."
This particular one read "Will you marry me?" You may think this an odd way to propose marriage, but I loved it. It was completely Dan. I was in shock for just a few seconds, and I remember asking "Are you serious?"  I also remember Dan being so nervous that he replied with "NO! Not serious at all! This has just been one big, expensive joke!" I can laugh about it now, but at the time, I felt a little guilty for even saying what I said, even though I didn't really mean it. I knew he was completely serious. And I was thankful.
He was the one for me, and I knew it. I said "yes" and we both cried. We waited for a few weeks before setting the date for the wedding. I actually remember setting the date for August 23rd 2008, on August 23rd 2007. I knew it had to be a 23rd of the month when we were married, because that was our number, and we wanted to wait at least a year. It just worked out.

One of our engagement pictures.
Wedding picture! 

Thus our marriage began. It may not have been "love at first sight", but it has grown and blossomed into more than I could have ever hoped for. I've never once regretted being married to Dan. He's absolutely the best, and I couldn't have picked anyone better to share my life with. He is my rock, my strength, and my best friend. He's always there for me no matter what. We've had rough spots.....we've fought.....we've both said or done things we regret.....but we still love each other with all our hearts. Through all this sickness with mom, he's been there, standing beside me, holding me up because I was too tired and emotional to handle it by myself. I've been at mom's every day, and most every night, making it so Dan has to take care of himself. He does a wonderful job, but I miss being his helper. I miss my house. I miss going to sleep with him by my side. I miss him waking me up as he leaves for work. But this too shall pass, and I will be home with him again. Until that time, I just brag on him to everyone, telling them what a wonderful, understanding, considerate person that he is, and I mean it. He truly is the best, and I thank God every day for sending that not so skinny anymore, never was a "Mennonite", guitar player into my life.

This is us today. We've changed......just a bit. 

Thank you, Dan O'Callaghan, for everything you do for me, everything you are to me, and everything our life will be. Most of all, thank you for loving me the way you do. I love you more today than I ever have, but I'm sure I'll say the same tomorrow and every day for the rest of my life. I couldn't live without you, and I just wanted to take this opportunity to make sure you know it. 


Monday, July 30, 2012

Time to do the diet thing.

Alright, so I've been bad. I missed my goal of posting a blog every week. Shame on me.
I won't go into a lot of detail right now, but I do have a good excuse. Mom's pneumonia didn't go away, so we took her to a specialist. He said that mom's problem wasn't pneumonia at all, but the tumors in her lungs had grown. A lot. He said they were stage IV and there was nothing they could do and we should just call Hospice. 


That was over 2 weeks ago.


Since that time, she has started an herbal treatment and a very strict diet......and she's gotten a bit better every day. In a few months, I fully expect to be writing next chapter of her story in "God's Miracles----Part 3". I hope you all will come back and read that. I wish I knew when to tell you it would be, but everything is really slow right now. 


Meanwhile, I need to post a blog. So, I thought to myself "What's going on in my life right now that's different?" This diet! When mom started her treatment, dad and I promised her that we would be with her every step of the way. Although we can't take the tea that she's on (because you have to have cancer), we are following her diet to the letter. 


It's in no way a "fun diet". I don't know about you all, but I have never enjoyed dieting in any way, shape or form. I love to eat too much. Pizza......pastas......breads......sweets.......you know. All the stuff that tastes awesome but is't good for you in the least. 
Let me tell you a bit about me and the way I liked to eat. First off, you should know that I was a caffeine addict. Seriously. A year ago, I was drinking 3 or more 44 oz Dr. Peppers per day. I would drink about a glass of plain water once a week.....maybe. I thought it tasted horrible! I ate out for breakfast every morning, and some of my favorite things were McGriddles from McDonalds, Monster Biscuits from Hardees, Breakfast pizza from the convenience store, and Breakfast Burritos from Sonic. I got one of those things every morning. EVERY morning. Not because I don't know how to cook, and not because I don't like to cook, it was because I craved fast food. Mom and I would catch breakfast on the way to the store, so that put me eating breakfast about 9:30 AM, which was good, because my caffeine headache would have kicked in by 10. Then usually for lunch, I'd grab some tacos or a cheeseburger, and it was never at lunch time, because I wasn't hungry at lunch. It was at least 1:30 or 2 before I'd eat. Supper time came and I'd get home about 6:30 and either start cooking or eat, depending on whether or not Dan had started it. Normally we'd have some kind of meat, and either rice or noodles.
Now, I loved this diet. Loved it. I felt like I was eating all this wonderful stuff that I loved and I had nothing to worry about. But........in the 3 years that Dan and I were married, I had gained 30 pounds. I reality, that's only 10 pounds per year.......0.83 pounds per month......0.03 pounds per day.......Anyway. It's not a lot......but for an woman in her early twenties, it's a lot. Plus, I would wake up sick every morning. That was the main reason that I didn't want to eat until 9 or so. I seriously felt like I would throw up every single day. People would tell me that it was the way I was eating, but I paid them no attention. I was constantly warned about the trouble of drinking so much pop every day, but I ignored them. 

It really hit me about the first of the year about how much that I had gained and how that was probably really the cause of the problems I'd been having physically. So, I made a "resolution", if you will, that I would gradually ween myself off caffeine and I would only eat out once a day. And that's what I did. After that, I only had one 44 oz caffeinated pop per day for several weeks. Then, I went down to just one 44 oz pop.....period.....for several weeks. It was hard! And I had lots of pop cravings. But, I was determined and stuck with it. Then it went down to a 32 oz once per day and stayed there for a few months. 
During this time, mom got sick and we stopped eating out so much, and eventually we didn't eat any fast food at all. What surprised me about this, was the fact that after a couple weeks of eating no fast food at all, when I did decide to have a burger or something, it tasted pretty bad. And honestly, when I ate a McDonalds burger, I got sick to my stomach.....while I was eating it. That had never happened before. Something else that changed was that I wasn't sick every morning anymore. I was hungry within 15 to 20 minutes of waking up, and I wanted my meals on time. I was even being hungry between meal times.
I gradually went down to a 20 oz soda per day, and only ate fast food about once a week.....maybe. That wasn't an all the time thing. Just once in a while when neither Dan or I felt like cooking, or we wanted pizza. That I can remember, pizza was one thing that never got old or tasted bad. 

After mom had the brain surgery and started recovering, we ate a little more fast food than we had been. Not a lot, but a little. And when she got sick with the pneumonia, there were very few things that actually sounded good to her, so we'd give her whatever she wanted. Mostly, it was Chicken McNuggets from (of course) McDonalds. While I didn't eat them every time, I did eat more fast food than I had in several months. I started becoming sick again, though only on days that I had eaten fast food the day before. 
By now we're closer to the current time.........when the strict diet kicks in. Almost three weeks ago, when mom was told she had Stage 4 Lung Cancer, we heard of an herbal treatment that has worked for many people. The only catch is you have to completely change the way you eat for it to work. And I do mean completely.
When she agreed to take the treatment, I made her a promise that I intend to keep, and I have done it so far.

Here's the diet:

The "don'ts"
  1. No meat.
  2. No sugar. (That is white refined sugar. Honey is alright, so is a sweetener called "agave"
  3. No dairy. (The exception to this rule is you can have straight from the farm goat's milk)
  4. No breads.
  5. No nuts (except almonds)
  6. No jams, jellies, condiments or salad dressings of any kind. (except the "Bolthouse" brand)
  7. No flour. 
  8. No soda
  9. No artificial sweeteners of any kind. 
The "do's"
  1. All the vegetables we want. (Organic is best.) 
  2. Certain fruits are OK, but nothing high in sugar. (Pineapple, Strawberries, etc)
  3. Organic or Cage Free eggs are fine.
  4. Organic brown whole grain rice is great for this diet.
  5. Organic oatmeal with goat's milk, sweetened with honey or agave is wonderful for this.
  6. Lots of water.
Now then. Does anyone see the issue here? There is no pizza or chocolate cake on this list. How will I ever survive?

I'd like to say right off, that, I'm sure some of you out there read this list and are saying exactly what I said when I got it; "Yuck." I never said that to mom. I am always reinforcing the fact that we have good reason for doing this, and it won't stay like this forever. We don't intend to go back to eating as unhealthy as we were before, but it will be more like normal than it is now. I've never been a big vegetable eater, anyway, so if we couldn't have eggs.....I probably would starve. Of everything, I think the thing that I was most resistant to try was the goat's milk. Milk is something I've always been very particular on. I like Hiland brand. End of story. So when dad told me he was going to buy goat's milk.......I wasn't very excited. I had pretty much decided I would just do without milk until mom was cured and thing would go back to normal. But when dad brought the milk home and we tried it, I was shocked! I couldn't believe it was so good. After that, things started getting a bit better. However, I do miss the bread.....and the meat......and the cold cereal......and the....oh, never mind. It's awful how when you're on a diet everything looks good. It's kind of disgusting......and annoying all at the same time. Sometimes I dread to even watch TV because the commercials make me hungry. And walking through the grocery store? Forget it. I have to keep repeating to myself what I'm in there for, otherwise I'll catch myself looking at something and thinking "Oh, that would be good!". I'm weak. I've been that way ever since I was 13 and went on my first diet. I've always been chunky, and sometimes just down right fat, but I've never had the restraint to keep myself from eating all the foods that I love. I will, however, make it through this time. Because I'm not doing it to loose weight (even though I am losing some), I'm doing it to keep my mom. And that is my strength.

As an aside, if anyone has any vegetable only recipes, I'd love to hear them. We're running out of ideas! lol 

Friday, July 6, 2012

Learning to wait.


Lamentations 3:22-25
It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not.They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.The Lord is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in Him.
The Lord is good unto them that wait for Him, to the soul that seeketh Him.



Isaiah 30:18
And therefore will the LORD waitthat He may be gracious unto you, and therefore will He be exalted, that He may have mercy upon you: for the LORD is a God of judgment: blessed are all they that wait for Him.



Isaiah 40:31
But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.


Psalm 37:9
For evildoers shall be cut off: but those that wait upon the LORDthey shall inherit the earth.




I really like those verses. Mainly because we've spent so much time lately waiting on the Lord.
Mom's pneumonia is slowly but surely getting better. We knew it would, but we had no idea it would take as long as it has. In reality, she's only been on her antibiotics for two weeks, and the doctor says it could take a month to 6 weeks before she's back up to par, and even then she could still be weak and winded. The Lord has been with her, and will continue to be with her through the recovery process. I sometimes wonder why she had to get this illness right after the things she's been through with her brain surgery and all........but I try not to question. It's for a reason, and one day maybe we'll know. Until then, I have to learn to "wait". After all, His ways are above my ways, and His time is not my time. So, what can you do? PBW. Pray, Believe, and Wait. As I've said before, we're not people who believe that you just pray once and then you're done. 1st Thessalonians 5:17 says "Pray without ceasing", and there are many days that I am in, what seems to be, constant prayer. It's not out loud, but I pray from my heart. My true desires are there, and God hears me. 

  • "Please, Lord, just make mom better." 
  • "Please, Lord, help Dan and Dad at their jobs today."
  • "Please, Lord, send some business our way if we're meant to keep this store."
  • "Please, Lord, help Skyla at her interview today."
  • "Please, Lord, get rid of Russ's headache because he has tons of stuff to get done."
Maybe some of you think praying for headache relief is silly. I don't. A hundred thoughts like that per day run through my mind. I'm sincere. I just want what's best for my family. They mean everything to me and I just want them to be happy and healthy. The praying is the easy part. The believing is harder, but all it takes is the tiniest bit of faith and it grows and grows. The waiting is the hardest part of the process.......but I must admit that my impatience is an inherited trait. 
Dad gets extremely nervous while waiting. When I talked to him last night, he admitted this fact, and said that sometimes he couldn't understand why Jesus made us wait. Back in Bible times, almost everything was immediate. He said "God never changes, so sometimes I wonder why miracles aren't still immediate?" I responded with "I know some of them still are, but Dad, Jesus also let some people die just so he could show his power and raise them from the dead.........we really don't want that happening now, do we?"
He agreed with me, said that however the Lord wanted to handle things now was just fine with him, and we changed the subject.
Mom is patient........most of the time. Though this pneumonia has really drug a lot of her "good nature and temperament" to the point of screaming on most days. I think sometimes if she would actually scream, it would help her to recover faster. I know what it's like to be sick, but I don't know what it's like to have something that makes it; impossible to go outside because you can't breathe, a two person job to get you to the bathroom, and you so tired that you want to sleep but can't because you have insomnia. I guess it's just miserable, and I can't blame her for complaining.
Russ, on the other hand is probably the worst of us when it comes to the patience department, especially when he's worried. I can understand that as well, because he feels as though if someone's sick, they need care as soon as possible, and there's not a moment to waste. Sometimes that just can't happen, and he doesn't understand why. He couldn't understand why mom wasn't better after 2 days of antibiotics. After 2 weeks, you can imagine what he's thinking. At least the past couple days mom has shown improvement. I would have Russ AND dad jumping down my throat if she didn't feel better. 
And what could I do? I could take after my husband and lecture them. That's about it. Being married to Dan for 4 years has taught me a thing or two about psychology, human thought processes through asking simple questions, and the art of a good lecture. 
My parents tell a story about me a lot. It's the story of when I was born. Mom and Dad were married not quite 2 years when Russ was born. When he was about 2-3 years old, they wanted to have another baby, so their kids would be close in and grow up together. But they couldn't get pregnant. It went on for years and they were beginning to face the fact that it wasn't meant for them to have another child. Mom had always wanted a daughter so she prayed, and prayed, and prayed. Nothing happened. Their only son was about 16 years old and mom had some female issues that worried her so she went to see her gynecologist. Her cycle had been terrible and hadn't stopped, and after an exam, the doctor told her the news. She'd had a miscarriage. It was heartbreaking for her. I don't know what she went through that day, but I know it had to be hard. Not long after that when Russ was about 17, mom's cycle stopped altogether. She was scared because of the previous miscarriage, and perhaps there was something wrong with her. She suspected everything except what was actually wrong with her; Me. 
They couldn't believe it. Their son was graduating high school and mom was expecting me. Mom never wanted to find out from the doctor what she was having. She knew that her prayer had been answered and she would have a girl. And obviously she was right. If you can't already tell, the reason for this story is I think that was a huge lesson to them about patience and waiting on the Lord. 
Something that is so hard to realize about waiting, is the fact that we can't see the future. I mean, if I had been born back when mom and dad first wanted me, there's no telling where I would have been when mom lost her arm. Or when the brain tumor hit? It's amazing to think about. I'm not bragging on myself by any means, but I am glad that I'm here close to help when they let me. I like my little comfy house, I love my husband, and I am incredibly blessed.
I think about that sometimes when I'm having trouble waiting. I can't change the past, I don't know the future. All I have is the present. And I'm not guaranteed that. So, we trust in the Lord.....and we wait.

Friday, June 29, 2012

Rants, Ramblings, and a Recipe!

I don't have much on the schedule for a blog post this week. So something with the 3 R's is always good.

I was originally just going to post a rant on how I currently feel about doctors.......but I don't want to just dwell on the negative right now, because that's way too easy to do. You see, right now, mom has pneumonia. Not good. The worst part was how she was diagnosed. She'd been not feeling well since Memorial Day, and when we took her to her normal doctor, they said she had bronchitis, gave her some sulfur drugs, a shot, and sent her home. She had a terrible cough, and, pardon me for being graphic, had coughed up a bunch of icky yellow/green mucus, and once or twice it had been laced with blood. Now, we explained all that to the doctor, and she still said bronchitis. She said she couldn't hear pneumonia in her lungs and mom didn't want an X-Ray. After 10 days of the sulfur drug, mom was still sick, but she said it wasn't near as bad. The cough, however had not let up. After about 3 days of being off the sulfur drug, she was worse. So we tried a different doctor at what they call "Urgent Care". It was the only place open besides the hospital on a Friday night after 5PM.
I don't know God's plan, but I know everything has a reason. There is a reason mom got sick, and there is a reason that this particular doctor saw mom on the night in question. But I doubt I will ever know the reason.
I hadn't gone with mom and dad that night, because they said there was no need. Mom had been told by countless people that she had  pneumonia, and after doing some research with my good friend Google, I had come up with the same conclusion. We were in hopes that another doctor would give her some medicine that  would actually clear it up, instead of just holding it back for a while. After the doctor saw mom, she said an X-Ray was necessary, and BEFORE she even found out the results, she came in and proceeded to tell my mom that she didn't have a virus, or pneumonia, or anything else.......her lungs were completely covered in cancer.
As I have said in my past posts, we are aware of some small tumors in mom's lungs, and she has an appointment in August to have them looked at, but this? No one was expecting. You can imagine the pain and shock that mom and dad were feeling at that time, and after hearing this story, I was upset that I had not been there with them. Anyway, this doctor was completely rude, and after she found out the results were indeed pneumonia, she didn't even offer as much as an "I'm sorry for putting you through this". Some doctors can be such scum. Thankfully we do have mom on 2 strong antibiotics now, and she has finally (after a week) started showing some improvement. Thank you, Lord! The final straw that made me not like this woman in the least happened the following Monday when mom went back for a follow up. Apparently this was not necessary (even though the doctor said it was), and the doctor was mad mom was there. When she got done examining mom, she said "Well, I'm still not convinced it's pneumonia". Boy, did my mom tell her the what for! Go mom! All I have to say is, what kind of a doctor does that? Not a very good one.

Thus ends the rant section of this post.

As for the rambling, I'm good at that. Just ask my husband. One of the big differences between us is the way we describe our day;

Me: "So, how was your day?"
Dan: "Eh. There were some good points, but it was still a rough one." 
Me: *waiting* *waiting some more* "Ummm.......OK, would you like to elaborate on that a bit?"
Dan: "Not really." 

End of discussion.
Reverse roles.

Dan: "So, how was your day?"
Me: "Oh, you know. About the same. I went over by to check on mom and when she fell asleep, I ended up falling asleep and I was afraid I'd get to the store late. I did get to the store late, but not because of that, it was because I had to follow some guy that apparently doesn't know how to drive because he was weaving all over the road and wouldn't go faster that 40 miles per hour, and after I got to the store Russ had to leave and help Skyla with some real estate stuff so I was there by myself and this nut-job comes in and decides to tell me his life story! I just kept standing there saying "uh huh, uh huh" but he didn't get the point."
Dan: "Uh huh." (Yes I'm aware of the irony)
Me: "So after an hour......an HOUR.....that guy finally walks out and I was ready to strangle Russ by the time that he got back. Then I had to make the virtual tour for the property that Skyla just listed and my computer kept freezing up.......I really need to clean that thing......and when I finally got it done I was 15 minutes late for my student, which of course threw me behind on all the rest of them. And then I get to hear the famous whine of "Why do I have to do it that way?" and "My fingers hurt". Sometimes I wonder why I even bother. I'm just glad to be home."
Dan: *nodding* "All right then." 

There are several hundred variations on that conversation, but it's pretty much that same conversation every day. Sometimes I don't know how he puts up with me. But he does, and I am grateful.

Alright, I guess that's enough rambling, so on to the recipe!

I've wanted to post this bread recipe for quite a while now, because I am a flop when it comes to home made bread. Seriously! But this bread worked for even me, so I know someone with bread making skills could do wonders with it. My dad makes the best bread in the entire world, no joke. He makes it out of a start that he got from another man about 4 years ago, who got his start from a man a year or so before that. So we just call it "man bread". Dad will not give the recipe or the starter to a woman because he wants to carry on the tradition. Oh well. This way I just get to eat it and don't have to bake it. lol OK, rambling again. Sorry.

The ingredients are as follows:

 2 cups warm water
3 tablespoons sugar 
2 heaping tablespoon or packet of yeast.
2 tablespoons butter
5 cups Bread Flour
2 tablespoons of salt 
Mix warm water and sugar in a largish mixing bowl. Sprinkle yeast over the top and let sit for about 5 minutes.
 Add the butter, 4 cups of flour, and the salt. Stir this together until it begins to hold together. Pour a cup of flour onto the surface you intend to use for kneading. 
Knead until it holds its own shape well, 3 or 4 minutes. Let the dough rest while you grease a bowl for rising. Return to your dough and knead a further 3 or 4 minutes until it's smooth
Roll the dough into a ball and place in the greased bowl.
 Put the bowl someplace warm and cozy. I like to put mine on the floor in front of my patio door, especially if I'm making it int the afternoon/early evening. This makes for a pleasant environment for the bread, because it's so nice and sunny. It recipe says to leave until it's doubled in size, but I let it rise for an hour.
After an hour dump the dough out on a floured surface and punch it down. Knead the bubbles out and form into two loaves. Place the loaves into lightly greased bread pans. Return to the floor.
 
Let them "rise" for another hour.
With the loaves sitting in the oven, turn it on to 350 degrees and leave them in for 45 minutes.
  Since your oven is probably different than mine, you should knock on the tops with your knuckles to check for a hollow sounds. That means they're done!
I always coat the tops of my bread with butter and cover with waxed paper and a towel. This way it softens up the crust. 

What I like about this bread is not only the taste, but how easy it is to make. Plus it is still fresh the next day, unlike a lot of home made bread. 
I hope you enjoy it, and feel free to post a comment about how your bread turns out if you decide to try it!