How to Pin to a Blog post

I've gotten into the world of Pinterest with a vengeance.  Unfortunately, there's one thing that frustrates me enough that I decided to write a blog about it.

How many of you have clicked on a friend's pin only to find that the link goes to a general blog rather than to the actual post that caught your friend's (and subsequently your) eye?

Here are a couple of steps to ensure that you pin the correct information so you don't send your followers on a wild goose chase.

You're perusing a blog and you find a post that you want to pin.  DO NOT: Click on the address bar and copy the text into your pin box.

Step one:  Click on the title of the blog post. This text is usually a larger, bold font at the top of the post you're looking at.
Note: If you've been looking at pages and pages of a particularly well-loved blog and you don't want to lose your place, right click on the title of the post, and open the page in a new tab.

Step two: Highlight the URL and copy the direct link to the blog post

Step three: Paste the address in the "Add a Pin" box on pinterest.  If you've been doing this wrong for a while, you might notice that suddenly you have a lot less photo's to click through to get to the one you were trying to pin.

You can try the steps right now, but if you found this link on Pinterest, most of the steps will already be done for you.  To practice, click on the title of the blog (Me and My Gals) at the top of the page.  This will take you to the front page.  If it's been a while since I wrote this post, you'll have to search for it or scroll through the blog to get back to the right post.  Then follow the instructions.

I hope this helps clear up some confusion.

Happy Pinning.  

Christmas Math

Here's an epiphany I just had while my children were discussing the "Twelve Days of Christmas" song.

What object did the true love receive the most of?

My 14 year old math genius son answered it in less than a minute and was able to prove his answer.

My 9 and 8 year old daughters just listened as he explained.

Here's how to use it as a math lesson.

For younger kids, you can start with the correct number of objects for each day.  To make it really simple here are some Coloring pages of the objects in the song that you can print out (laminate if you are OCD like that) and use.  Or you can use different colored candies, or manipulatives, or you can get really creative and glue the pictures to clothespins or Popsicle sticks and have them put them in order each time you sing the song.

http://www.londonderryimages.com/Londonderry-Hometown-Online/Coloring-Books/Christmas/17897313_Pkg4tq#!i=1119318377&k=vp898

Now, you'll have to remember to print out or cut out the correct number of each item to represent it properly.  Once you've sung the song, have your child count each item and find out which object is the correct answer.

When they get a bit older, you can use the song to explain Multiplication.  This is doing quick Addition based on groups of the same number of objects.  You can also point out that the song has a repeating pattern.  For instance there are the same number of objects from the first day as the last.  1x12=12x1

Once they get to higher math, you can have them write algebraic equations to represent the number of objects, or use a cartesian plane to chart the curve.  Day one: P=D1, Day two T=D2 or for the purposes of charting Object=Day x Number of ojects (O=D1, 2, 3, etc)

Anyway, that's just my two cents.  Hopefully this will make math a bit more fun for your kids, and not ruin the Christmas tradition for them.  :)

Vanilla Orangeade

Can she do it?

Can she post a recipe without turning it into a life changing story with a good moral at the end?

Let see....

Vanilla Orangeade
(Possible Christmas gifts for lucky friends)

Ingredients
1 cup Fresh squeezed Orange juice (I used about 5 oranges)
1 cup vanilla syrup
4 cups water

Mix it all up and put it in a pretty jar

Well I guess the difficult part of this recipe is squeezing all the oranges.


Done.  :)

Accidents Happen

I'm convinced that a five day fast lasts about two weeks.

I started on Saturday.  I have not eaten anything since.  In order to maintain the fast I have been drinking fresh sqeezed lemonade, made with maple syrup, and sprinkled with cayenne pepper.  The pepper actually isn't bad.  It's only a tiny bit, and as long as it doesn't sit too long it's masked by the strong lemon flavor.

Today is my last day.  I almost gave up, but my competitive instincts kicked in yesterday when my personal trainer said he'd never done the full five days.  Growing up with a bunch of boys has honed that competitive instinct in me. I embrace it when I know it will have a positive effect.

Today I broke down.  No. I didn't eat anything, but I cried.  I'm pretty passionate about food, and I really enjoy cooking.  I miss sitting at the dinner table with my family.  I really miss entertaining myself with munchies.  I could really go for some Nutella dipped Bugles right about now.

Here's how it all went down.  Since today is my last day, I used my last lemons to make my last tiny pitcher of lemonade concentrate.  I realized as I finished squeezing the lemons that I had run out of maple syrup the day before.

No worries.  I put the lemon juice in the fridge and went to Whole Foods.  I figured as long as I was out I might as well pick up the veggies I need to make the vegetable stock I'll be eating tomorrow to ease myself back onto solid food.

As soon as I got home I finished making the concentrate.  Two cups of sticky sour sweetness, ready to be mixed with water as I'm ready for it.

Then I started on the vegetable stock.  Any good cook knows that really good vegetable stock is a long process.  If I waited till the morning, it wouldn't be finished until around lunchtime.  I got the stock simmering. Then I went to the fridge for a shot of concentrate.

When I looked inside I noticed that one of my shelves wasn't on the bracket properly.

Have I mentioned that lack of food causes extreme fatigue and can dull common sense?

I fiddled with it.  Sorry, but I'm one of those people who can't leave well enough alone.  Before I knew it I was grabbing the glass jar of French Lemonade as it came tumbling toward me.  My only thought, avoiding broken glass.

Well I saved the French lemonade, but the cold trickle soaking through my jeans alerted me to the fact that my special, non French, maple syrup infused lemonade hadn't fared as well.  The little plastic pitcher had tumbled out and the lid had popped off, spilling every bit of the concentrate.

I actually said, "Crap!" out loud.  This got my kids attention because Mama doesn't use that kind of language.  My teenage son jumped up from his video game and came over to take a look at what could be so horrible as to induce such expletives from his mother.  To my utter shock and awe he said, "I'll help clean it up."

There are plenty of moments during parenthood when you wonder if your child will ever learn manners, or kindness, or any of the virtues you try so hard to instill.  Then there are those golden moments when you think maybe, just maybe you're getting through after all.  He cheerfully mopped up the mess the best he could while I went up to change out my sticky pants.

I could feel the tears coming as I walked upstairs and realized I was very hungry and I needed those calories which were spread all over the kitchen floor.  They were really welling up by the time I realized I was out of lemons.

This is one of those rare moments in life when you realize God really is love and you're the object of that affection.  I texted my hubby and asked if he could come home early, and by early I mean about an hour and a half before he usually does.  Within moments I had an answer, "Yes."  

Have I mentioned that I have an amazing husband.  Don't hate me.  He stopped by the store on the way home and bought me more lemons.  Then he sat with me a while and listened to me decompress.  Then he got up and made dinner for the rest of the family.

So, even though I had a rough time, even though I almost quit, God turned my mini catastrophe into a moment of bliss.

Not to mention, my kitchen really did need to be mopped.

Out of the Box

I'm creative.  I'm not going to feign humility here, nor am I saying that I'm more creative than everyone else... I just know I am creative.  Creative people are famous for thinking outside the box.  Unfortunately many of us suffer from a malady I will call economic deficit disorder.

Because we don't have a lot of moola we are forced to find ways to use our creativity to pay the bills.  Usually this means performing menial tasks, or using our creativity in a way that has been historically proven financially sound.  (And by the way, spell checker, "moola" is a word.  I looked it up on dictionary.com)

I spent most of my day hemming pants and taking in the waistbands of clothing other people designed, rather than creating dazzling new boutique fashions worthy of a New York catwalk.  Okay.  I don't really want to design "those" types of clothes.  But my point is, I spent my day doing alterations and it was pretty boring.

I'm sure there are tailors out there who love alterations.  I'm sure they just can't wait to clock in at the beginning of a day and spend their hours ripping seams and re-attaching buttons.  It's just not my cup of tea.

All that time in front of a sewing machine, even if it is mundane, makes me stop and think.  I mean really think. Creatively.  Because I'm not doing anything particularly mind boggling, I have all that time to think of other things, and today those other things centered around climbing out of a box created by perceived economic necessity.

In his book, Quitter, Jon Acuff stresses the need to keep your day job.  Seems a bit backward for a book about starting your dream job.  He has a point though.  If you're too quick to jump into the work you want to do, that pesky "economic deficit disorder" hits hard and fast.  Pretty soon you aren't doing the work you love, you're taking on whatever work you can find just to pay the bills.

At a recent writers conference, and in Steven King's book On Writing, I was reminded not to become a writer for the money.  This makes a lot of sense because I've noticed that I spend an awful lot of time writing, and I still haven't gotten paid for it.  I'm sure if I was doing it for the money I would have quit by now.  (Side note: I highly recommend Mr King's book, but I have to warn you that he has a potty mouth)

God has really been challenging me lately to think outside the box.  A friend of mine is the owner of a private film company.  She makes commercials for local companies and does audio-video recordings of special events.  She once told me that her clients often criticize ideas that took her hours to come up with, because it's easier to criticize than create.

It would be simple for me to pull up numerous images of a Gaultier original.  I know I have the talent to use those images to make a knock-off.  I could probably even alter it a bit to fit an average size figure.  But, that knock-off would never be as priceless as the one Gaultier designed.  Why? Because he created the original.

I love designing, and I love writing.  They are two of my favorite things to do.  With either one I can study the works of others and try to use the established pattern of success to make some money.  If I do, I will most certainly be proud of my achievements, and I will never be famous.  I'll just blend in seamlessly with all the other folks who make a living playing copy-cat.

Or, I can start blazing my own trail, think outside the box, and dabble in the unknown.  There will be no guarantee that I will make one red cent.  I may even die before anything I've created becomes valuable.  There's not even a guarantee that anything I make will last that long.

So now I have a challenge, for myself, and for anyone who's willing to try it.  Start thinking outside the box.   Welcome critique.  Prepare to be ridiculed.  Van Gogh certainly was.  Don't just sit and copy everyone else's stuff.  Embrace that thing inside you, that reflection of the God who made you.  You may be pleasantly surprised at the results.

Frenchie's Does It Again

If we could bottle the charm of an eight year old girl we could have every nation in the world at our doorstep.

Like any good parent I want my children to be able to handle the money God gives them.  I used Dave Ramsey's suggestions about saving for their first car and decided to apply it to bicycles.  I thought that if I could get them to save up half the money for a new bike and then match their half, then later on they would understand the concept of saving up for a car.

I tried it with my son, and it didn't seem to be working.  The bike he wanted was priced around $300.  I don't know if he felt overwhelmed or just didn't catch the vision, but it took him several years to save up the money.

Since all of my children are too young to get a job, I knew I would need to offer opportunities to make money.  I made up lists of things they could do to clean various rooms of the house and assigned dollar amounts to them.  I offered to pay $1 for doing a load of laundry on their own, without prompting from me.

I would have given up on the idea if it weren't for my daughter, Hannah.  A few months after I talked to my son Hannah wanted in on the deal.  She was learning to ride like her big sister and was growing tired of waiting for a turn on Deborah's bike.  As I did with my son, I took her to Frenchie's and she found a bike that was priced around $100.  Unlike her brother, Hannah was motivated.

As an example, one day I told all three of the older kids that I would pay them $5/bag for cleaning up hedge clippings.  They had to completely fill a black landscaping bag.  My son didn't bother to try.  My older daughter filled one bag and then gave up.  Hannah filled about four bags and would have filled more if there had been more clippings to clean up.  

Within three months she had saved up her $50.  Unlike her siblings, she was motivated to earn.  I kept my end of the bargain and paid the remaining amount.  As a reward for her hard work I even paid for a little bell to be put on the bike.  The bell broke that afternoon when she wiped out for the first time.

Fast forward two years.  She's eight now, and I noticed the other day that her legs are getting too long for her old bike.  It's a great bike, very well made, but it is just too small for her.  I suggested that she start saving up for a new one.

I knew how hard she had worked to save $50 the first time around.  I knew the bigger bikes cost more money.  I didn't want her to be frustrated because she would have to save up a lot longer.  I prayed and asked God to take care of the situation.  If she needed to build the character to understand that replacing old things is a fact of life, then that would be up to God.  If He wanted to reward her diligence then He could provide the right bike for less money.

Hannah's birthday was last week.  She told a few people that she was saving up for a bike and would appreciate money instead of normal gifts.  Among her friends, her grandparents, and a wonderful lady at our church she made about $38.

Today I took her to Frenchie's to price out her new bike.  This way she would have a goal, rather than just being ambiguous.  We decided to take a look at some used bikes this time, since I knew it would be a bit cheaper that way.  She singled one out and asked one of the clerks how much it would cost.  I was surprised when he asked her how much money she had.  She proudly pulled her money out of her wallet.  $38 plus one gold dollar coin.  The man told her to save her gold coin for a rainy day.

I knew she would need a bit more than $38 to buy a bike so I pulled five $1's out of my wallet to add to her stash with the intention of paying the difference regardless.  She walked with the clerk to the cash register and to my surprise returned a moment later with three $1's to give back to me.  The clerk had charged her $40 even.

I told him how thankful I was, and how I our family had already bought three bikes there and would definitely be back the next time we needed one.  He told Hannah that if any thing went wrong or got broken she could bring it back and they would fix it.  Hannah mentioned that she had a bell on her old bike that was broken.  As if giving her a bike for $40 wasn't enough, he went in the back and found a bell to put on the handle bars.

Oh, and among the used bikes I found this beauty... I guess it's time for Mama to save up for a new bike. ;)

 

Unopened Gifts

I receive hundreds of gifts every day.  Most of them remain unopened.  On Christmas Day I am not so ignorant.  A physical package placed before me is much harder to miss.  As it is, these gifts don't come wrapped up in boxes, with shiny ribbons.  They are intangible, but more real than most people realize. 


My observational skills were a bit more awake than usual today.  This morning I counted several.  


1) The warmth of my toddler pressed up against my back as I woke.  She had another nightmare last night and came to sleep in my room.  She shifts against me like a kitten and I dare not move lest she awaken and the moment pass.  


2) The ability to imagine.  This gift was passed on to me by my parents, wise as they are.  I was able to lay in bed and conjure up pictures I can only hope to transcribe someday.  For now they are mine to do with as I please.


3) My husband's arm wrapped around my waist, his lips pressed gently against my hair.  I know too many with broken homes.  I dare not take this gift for granted.  


4) The technology provided to me allowing me to touch others with my writing.  If I were to use pen and paper I doubt anyone would ever see this list or share this thought.  


5) Cool peppermint leaves immersed in my cup of water.  It's hard enough for me to keep plants alive in my yard.  For some mint is a weed, for me it's a spark of hope that perhaps I'm not completely void of gardening skills.  


The longer I think, and the more I open my mind the more gifts I realize are at my fingertips.  Air to breathe and air conditioning to cool it.  The roof over my head, and all the objects that fit under it.  My children, their personalities challenging me to always be more than I thought I could be.  


Ann Voskamp, the author of "One Thousand Gifts" said this, "I want to see beauty. In the ugly, in the sink, in the suffering, in the daily, in all the days before I die, the moments before I sleep.”  Her insight is itself another gift to be opened.  I read her book over a year ago.  I forget so quickly.   

I will start again.  I will observe.  I will let no gift remain unopened.  I will unwrap each one as it is given to me, savoring the contents, keeping them forever in my heart.

Luke 11:13 -  "If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him."