Paul's Seven Year Old Pictures

I'm still a newbie to photoshop and haven't figured out exactly what looks good and what looks great. I took Paul's seven year old pictures today and came home and played around with a few. Here's what I've come up with so far.

Paul's Birthday

Paul recently started wearing glasses. At parent teacher conferences his teacher hinted strongly that she thought he needed them. The first time he put them on, he exclaimed, "Wow, I can see the back of the store!" Poor kid, I wonder how long he's been that blind.

On December 14th Paul turned 7. He had breakfast in bed and after school we went to a new bounce place that opened in the mall. After dinner, cousins and grandparents came over for cake and icecream. Paul constantly cracks us up with his interesting observations of every day life--he definitely doesn't come up with stock answers. He is my most mild mannered child. He doesn't pick fights with his siblings and he still enjoys giving his mom hugs and kisses.

He's been a great middle child, plays well by himself and is a good example as the oldest brother. He's really looking forward to next year when he can get baptized, go to scouts, and get a knife(well, we'll see about the last one).

My favorite overheard conversation this week:

Luke: (in sing song voice) Paul is a baby. Paul is a baby.

Paul: says nothing.

Me from the other room: Luke are you being nice? Those don't sound like nice words.

Paul: It's okay, Mom. He meant rock star baby. Right, Luke? You meant I was a rock star baby, right?

Luke: (sensing a way out of trouble) Uh, ya. Rockstar baby.

I don't know where he got it, whether it be lyrics on the radio with "baby" in them, or what, but baby is now a compliment in our house.

A Tale of Toffee

Every year around the holidays my mom made the most delicious english toffee. The house smelled buttery and homey and when she finished, she'd place the crunchy toffee chunks in festive Christmas tins by the fireplace and in the kitchen. It hit me two weeks ago that in eleven years of marriage, I have never tried to make Mom's (inherited from her mother-in-law) toffee. I bought a candy thermometer for .52 cents at Kohl's thanks to a ten dollar off coupon, called my mom for the recipe, and was ready to go.

Step One: Add all the ingredients to a pan and bring to a boil.

Mistake I made: Using too small of a pan and walking away from the pot before it came to a boil. Next thing I know there's sugary syrup all over the top of the stove. I move the pot only to have it drip on the burner and instantly turn to a charcoal hockey puck. In a less than brilliant moment, I moved the pan to another burner, turned it up on high, and started to clean the mess, not even realizing my pot was still too small. Result: Another boil over and another layer of syrup on the stove and yet another burned hockey puck.

In the process of cleaning up the second spill, my hand slid over the hot burner. Here is my second degree burn a couple days later:

Step One (Again): The toffee was all but gone from the pan now, so I started over with a bigger pot.

Step Two: As instructed by my mom, I put the thermometer in and waited patiently for the sugar to reach hard crack.

Mistake: Uh, the recipe actually meant soft crack, not hard crack. What should have taken forty-five minutes, turned into over two hours. By the time I realized it wasn't getting up to hard crack fast enough, it had gone past the lovely golden brown color it was supposed to be.

Step Three: I actually got right the first time. I grated all the walnuts and chocolate, put down one layer, topped with the toffee, and sprinkled more chocolate and walnuts on top. Then I had to wait not so patiently this time for the chocolate to set. Isn't it lovely?

Unfortunately it doesn't taste as good as it looks. The whole afternoon resulted in a burnt stove, a burnt hand, and burnt English Toffee. The kids can't even be bribed to nibble on it. I have still managed to consume more than is good for me, despite the semi unpleasant after taste.

My next brilliant idea is to wait until next year to try this again.

Choosing a Christmas Tree

Christmas Tree--I couldn't get this photo to move, so see below for our trip to the Christmas tree farm. Paul's reindeer. He added red crackles to the eyes to make it look realistic, he said. It looks like a reindeer who drank too much coffee to stay up all night and haul Santa's sleigh. Makes me laugh all the time. I've been doing this holiday flip chart countdown thing and it gives suggestions for photo shots every day. Here's something that looks "warm" to me. And below is my holiday symbol.

Paul

Luke helping Dad measure the tree

Jarom

Elyse in the trees On December 1st, we drove to a Christmas tree farm to choose a tree. 46 degrees, no snow on the ground--a beautiful day to choose a tree. But when it's not so cold outside, it takes twice as long to make up your mind. In years past, we're all so cold it takes about ten minutes. This year we were there for a good forty-five. Once we finally had it thrown into the trailor, we enjoyed free hot chocolate next to a wood burning stove inside the shop.