How to . . . what?

It's been about two months since I abandoned my community garden plot, and I've really missed it. Along with having a lot of squash, I also planted some sunflowers with the intent of trying to make my own sunflower seeds. When I felt like the sunflowers should be ready, I picked a few and looked up on the internet (a librarian's best friend) how to roast them.

Thanks to the University of Minnesota Extension Service, I learned that I had picked my sunflowers a little early, and they needed some time to think about if they really wanted to be edible.

Here are the intructions I found:

HOW TO HARVEST AND ROAST SUNFLOWER SEEDS: If you're growing sunflowers to harvest the seed heads, whether for human or animal consumption, don't cut the heads until the green disk at the back of the flower has begun to turn yellow. At this point the seeds will mature properly if left on the head and kept in a dry, well-ventilated place. After the ray flowers have fallen off, cover the head with a cheesecloth or paper bag to keep birds away until you cut it and bring it inside. Seeds are ready to store or eat when the disk at the back of the flower has turned dark brown. You can easily remove the seeds by rubbing two heads together, or just rubbing your palm over the seeds.

Who knew?

pre-soak - and still a little green

After I let my flowers sit for a while and turn brown and get ready, Matt and I pulled all the seeds out, washed them, and soaked them in a salt water for a night. That's not easy because sunflower seeds float. Again, who knew?

The next day I put them in my dehidrator to try out (I learned from a second batch, san-dehidrator, that this was a very good choice.) Then, when I came home from work, I toasted them for about 5-7 minutes in my 350 degree oven.

post-soak

Yum Yum! They actually turned out really well. I gave some to my friend who really likes seed and she said they are the best she's ever had.

"He's Got Some Dough!"

Wednesday, I was thinking all day that the weather is perfect for making doughnuts. (Wednesday in Idaho Falls the temp was 19 F with a feel temp of 50 F.) To my surprise (I'm still always surprised when this happens) and excitement, Matt called me up Wednesday night to ask if we could make doughnuts Thursday! =) Can I just say we're M.F.E.O.!!!

So Thursday, Matt picked me up and we went to get "ingredients." (I was not prepared for what was about to happen!) As we drove to the store I naively questioned, "what do we need, I have flour; I have yeast," each time, looking at him to see if that is the ingredient he thought we were missing. "Do we need eggs? No, we have LOTS of eggs; I have milk . . . wait, I don't have milk. We need milk." He smiled. I thought for sure we were going to the store for milk.

We walked in and went straight back to the dairy section, right past the milk, and over to the biscuits. He asked me what kind I wanted. I was so confused! He said, "Haven't you ever made biscuit doughnuts before?"

Nope! I had no clue that was possible. I don't even consider canned biscuits to be made of real dough. Don't ask me why. It just seems fake to me, and because of that fact, in a last ditch effort to save "homemade doughnut night" I suggested that we pick up some yummy pre-made pizza dough as well.

We were at a place where you bag it yourself, so at the check out, as I walked down to the end to bag, Matt put 5 cans of biscuits and one bag of pizza dough on the belt. "Wow! that's a lot of dough," said the lady at the register. Then she turned to me and laughed, "He's got some dough." I smiled and winked and said, "I know. That's why I like him." She went on about the dough, because honestly, it was a pretty funny joke (at the time), and then we bagged and ran.

Back at home Matt heated oil and cut holes. I steered clear (because bad things happen when I stand by Matt & hot oil at the same time . . . but that's another story) and carved more pumpkins. About 5 minutes later, Matt handed me the most perfect looking doughnut I've never tasted! And it was good. It didn't even taste like biscuits. I was impressed!

Not only does he have some dough . . . he knows what to do with it!

Here's what you will need to repeat this adventure for yourself:

1 can of any kind of biscuits

1 pot of cooking oil

1 large round bottle cap

cinnamon-sugar in a bowl.

paper towel

medal salad tongs or a slotted spoon

Here's what you do:

Heat oil. Mix cinnamon-sugar in a wide mouth bowl. Open the biscuits and reshape them on the counter. Use the bottle cap to make a hole in the middle of each biscuit. When oil is hot enough, drop each piece in and cook until golden brown. Remove with tongs or slotted spoon. tap on paper towel. Cover with cinnamon-sugar. Eat!

If you decide to try my idea and use pizza dough, just make the doughnuts and then let the dough rise in a low heated oven before frying.

First gift of the season!

Our "season" has started a little early here. Thursday the stroytime children told me it was snowing outside, and Saturday was an ugly mess of rain slush. Sunday morning was beautiful though. These pictures don't show the beauty of it very well, but I woke up to an inch or so and pretty white flake still coming down. It feels like Christmas Morning.

I also woke up to this:

Matt came by to give the first gift of the season . . . and what a gift it is. There is nothing more wonderful in life than the feeling you get when you give and recieve thanks. Sister Hinckley once said, "If you don't have anyone to thank, look at your toothbrush and say, 'Thank you.'" I have so very many people to thank!

By the way, if you haven't heard, Matthew and I are engaged and getting married here in Idaho on Dec 13th. =)

Raging rivers and calm lakes

About two weeks ago, I went hiking with friends up to Palisades Lake. Some of us went to the Lower Lake spot and some the the Upper Lake spot and one beyond. We all registered though.

Here we are chillin' on the way back and documenting the fun.

Here's the raging river. There had been so much wonderful water this year that the river overlapped onto the trail and we had to ford a little way. That was so much fun.

How does your garden grow?

Apparently one of the benefits of community gardening is shared veggies. I had no idea, so I was pleasantly surprised yesterday, when my neighbor gardener shouted out to me, "Sarah, do you like radishes?" Well I love radishes. They are some of my favorite things. So, I said so. "Well, good. ours are ready to pick and only my husband likes them. Help yourself." When I hadn't "helped myself" by the time they were ready to leave, she asked me to come over and take a tour of her garden, then pulled some radishes for me . . .

and cut some lettuces . . .

My garden is doing alright, but isn't as far along as hers, but I hope when my potatoes come up they will be nice enough to share.

Oh, the joys of gardening.

The long awaiting story of my trip to Taylor Mountain

Off on the southern side of Idaho Falls, you can sometimes see a hazy cloud around a very green and inviting foot hill. The hill is called Taylor Mountain, and my friend's mom told me once, like an old wise woman from a fairy tale, "No good can come to someone who goes up to those parts . . . Especially at night!" Que dramatic music. Taylor Mountain all of the sudden became Witch Mountain in my mind.

Well, one Friday night, way back when, I went shooting with one of my friends and he decided the best place to go was Taylor Mountain. He knew some people with land up there . . . So we went, during the daylight hours, of course, and had a grad time shooting pistols and pictures. I couldn't figure out how to get my target up here, so you just have the pictures, but here they are! Not as Witch Mountain-esq as I would have hoped, but beautiful.

A broken down fence next to a rambling brook.

A lovely little water fall on that same brook. There were a few of these. It was a great brook.

A hill with a rock on it. That rock has a tree growing out of it. Isn't it amazing how trees can grow almost anywhere.

And the aspen forest. So beautiful, so green.

Here is my personal favorite, the Mountain Blue Belle, is what they call this, I think. It looks a little out of place here, but I'll take a Blue Bonnet (the Texas state flower) any way I can get it. See Lorraine, I found one this year. :)

Sunburn Adventure AKA Snow Shoeing

Last Saturday, I went Snow Shoeing in Kilgore, Idaho at "The Crater," a little ranch with a big name. There's only one way to get to The Crater this time of year, and it's not the way we went at first.

These are my friends, Jonathan and Alisa, who came on this little adventure with me. We are standing at the end of the road that runs by the St. Anthony sand dunes (hwy 33). Well, not exactly the end of the road, just the end of the plowed road. There is a five foot mound of snow blocking the road behind us.

This is how beautiful the day was. Mountains, clouds, and nothing but white snow in front of us (and hopefully a little cabin where we can stop and have lunch). The snow was even fresh. It had fallen while we were driving. But, no worries, the sun came out as soon as we found the ranch gate.

I'm not going to lie. I'm really out of shape and we walked for what felt like forever, even though it was only about a mile and a half. Jonathan went on cross country skis, and he went up every hill he could find so he could ski down. Alisa and I just went around most of them.

Ah! we made it. It looks way different in the snow. The whole time I was thinking, "I hope I'm in the right place." But even if I wasn't, who would know? There was no one else for miles.

A few words about my face

This post is brought to you by Pond's dry skin cream. Pond's keeps my 28 year old face looking 18. Pond's is the reason a boy who is still in High School walks over to the library during his lunch break to ask me out. Pond's skin cream is the reason this comic strip is so true and so funny to me.

Pond's is also the reason I feel okay about getting a horrible sun burn on Saturday that has turned into dry flaking skin and the whole left side of my mouth and chin (yes I said and chin) turning into one big fever blister. Mom and Lorraine, if you were wondering, it's starting to heal and feel much better now, even though it's still really gross to look at. I'm excited for the next 5 days to go by. Thanks to Pond's (and a few cold sore products) I'm going to make it.

P.S. there will be no pictures posted of my unfortunate looking face, so Don't even think about asking, Mary.

Feeling Ordinary?

This past week I have been feeling very ordinary, less than ordinary even. I've been feeling down right lacking in skills an abilities. Today, I had a little time off work, so I'm trying again to bake bread (something I've never figured out how to do), and as I was doing the dishes and thinking about how unimpressive I felt, this thought came to mind.

"The work of the world is done by ordinary people who have learned to work in an extraordinary way.”

I'm so grateful that I was one of those people who always went to the firesides in college, and that I got to hear President Hinckley say that. He must have known that lots of us feel ordinary sometimes and we need to be reminded that it's not how we feel, but what we do that really makes the difference.

I'm grateful for the Holy Ghost, too, and the power he has to help me remember things that I've heard a long time ago because I need to hear them again.


Now, back to bread-making. I found a book in the library that I hope will help me.

To Do: hair cut!

Friday night, I went to a dance, and, just like at every other stake dance I went to in my life, the one thing dominating my thoughts was my hair. I really didn't like it. I needed a trim. So, on my Saturday To Do List I put "hair cut," right after "shower" and right before "laundry." I was excited about this one. I jumped in the shower and got all clean and then got dressed and took out the scissors, and, for the first time since I was 5, I cut my own hair.

I'm sad to tell you that my hair-cutting skills have not improved much. What can I say, I'm a librarian, not a stylist. So, I laughed (that's the important part), got out some bobby pins, pinned up my way too short bangs, and went out to do some laundry. For the next three weeks, I'm going to have one look. I'm pretty excited about it. All my bangs are pulled up in the middle of my head with four bobby pins.

My roommate says she can even things out for me in about three weeks.

Yicks! Double yick if you count that I have no make-up on under my "only wear at home" glasses.

But I don't know. It might take two months to straighten out this mess.

Home Sweet Home.

Each Tuesday night I try to get off early so I can be fed and ready for the night's weekly branch activity. I go with one thought in mind . . . "who can I meet this week?" and I'm not talking about eligible bachelors. Every week, I walk it to blank stares. Every week I meet some people and learn some more names. Every week I say good bye at the end of the night and hear the sound of one lone cricket trailing after me as I receive a stare filled send off. The next week I try again.

You'd think after a month (and a few dozen new conversations) I wouldn't be feeling so stared down, but I'm still wondering if these people know my name, or even care. And more importantly, I'm really wondering if they know each other's names, or if I just moved into the 1st Singles Branch dedicated soully to meeting the spiritual and social needs of Zombies between the ages of 21 and 30.

Okay, I just made it sound really bad. I've actually cracked some of these tough nuts and have made some new friends, and no one has tried to eat me . . . yet. But beyond that, I'm fishing for advice.

I'm not going to be giving any talks or lessons anytime soon, but I see something here that has to change, or even I will get tired of trying to meet people and get sucked into Zombie Land. (I can only imagine how less social people fell.) What can I do as a normal member to promote friendship and fellowship among branch members who don't know anyone and don't care.

Victim!

Plagiarism (n.) [pley-juh-riz-uhm, -jee-uh-riz-]

1.	the unauthorized use or close imitation of the language and thoughts of another author and the representation of them as one's own original work.

2.	something used and represented in this manner.

Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006

You know, no one wakes up in the morning and says, "I'm pretty sure someone is going to steal my original thought or idea today." It's just not something you think about. You don't send out an email and thinks, "Oh, Gosh. I hope someone doesn't cut and paste this and then erase my name and put his own at the bottom."

Plagiarism is one of those little evils that catches you when you're least expecting it. I stand before you today, a victim of plagiarism. I now know how it feels to see my words and thoughts with someone else's name attached. It's a bitter sweet feeling, something smashed between "That dirty rat." and "Wow, I guess he thought he couldn't have said it better." And although I know that anyone I would steal the original thoughts of would probably never read what I have written, those mixed and confusing feelings will forever keep me properly paraphrasing and documenting any piece of writing that is not my own.

Somebody Got Married!

It's my brother. Eric is married! I have pictures to prove it. I know some of you other unlucky ladies might be diluting yourselves into thinking that it's all just a dream, but it's not. My big little bro married beautiful Callie 4 days into 2008, and I love them both so much, I can't help but be happy.

Aawhh. . .

Swing Your Partner

At Williams wedding, Mary told us all about "Dance by Change."

Dance by Chance is an off-beat program of dance where chance takes charge. CHANCE determines the audience members’ admission price as they pick from a deck of cards at the door. CHANCE determines the dances on the program as audience members spin a wheel to determine the dances that will be performed. CHANCE adds a comic flair to the show.

It sounded like so much fun and really made me want to dance so much that when and opportunity came, I didn't think about what I was really getting myself into. . . . .

Last night I went to a "Practice" where we sat around for 45 minutes to define square dancing, then realized we were putting something silly together for a skit. I threw out some moves (literally flung them out there) with the help of my dancing friend Tom, and 5 minutes later we had a "routine."

Now all we have to do is number the different parts and have the audience roll the dice! "Square Dance by Chance." If you're in Idaho Falls for New Years come by my party for a little show.

"What is that Thing"

"On the Fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . ." FIVE TIMES THE SCREEN! Four letter words (like "love" and "hugs"), Three book ends, Two snow-filled gloves, and A Book about a girl who can't see.


This is the new television that was just delivered and set up at my apartment, compliments of my roommate and her need to watch movies in style (and wide-screen). The remote control that came with this puppy has a touch monitor. All I can say is, "It wasn't my idea."

It will make movie nights a lot more interesting. So, grab some popcorn and get ready for the best show you've ever seen in a two bedroom rental.

Here's a side shot by the Christmas tree.

And here is the Christmas Tree, in all it's green and blue splendor.

Poor Santa

"On the Fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . ." four letter words (like "love" and "hugs"), three book ends, two snow-filled gloves and a book about a girl who can't see.

Last Friday, I went to a dinner party. I came with one friend and left with three. Santa actually arrived during the party and my friend sat on his lap to tell him what he wanted for Christmas. I think Santa said, "Ho! Ho! Ho! Kid, Santa . . . Can't . . . Breath. Santa was played by another one of my friends, about half the size of the first, if you couldn't tell from this picture. There's nothing more fun than letting the biggest guy in the room tell Santa the Christmas wishes of everyone in the room.

Ho . . . Ho . . . Ho! Merry Christmas.

So It's been a week

On the "Third Day of Christmas my true love gave to me. . ." Three bookends, Two snow-filled gloves, and A book about a girl who can't see.


This week a lot has happened. I moved in officially by pulling out the bookends, making a menu for the month, and getting Christmas Cookies from my neighbors. I also saw a friend who just moved back into town, ended my last class to officially graduate from institute, and wrote a letter to Santa. I've cried once, almost cried a few times, and realized somethings about my leadership style (or lack there of) that I hope have something to do with making me a better future mother. You never know. They might just make me less critical of and more empathetic to weak managers I'll meet later on in life.

The first snowball of the season

On the Second day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . two snow-filled gloves and A book about a girl who can't see.

There's only one glove in this picture, but the other one was close at hand and at one time, not long before this picture was taken, filled with snow as well.

This is actually the second snowball of the season. (I don't mean to misrepresent.) The first one was made and thrown. It was beautiful, and it was for my brother who is in Minnesota and can probably make his own snowballs now. But, just for fun, Dan, that first one was for you.

You're our only hope!

Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to be a princess. Not just any princess thought, I wanted to be Princess Leiah from Star Wars. I've always wanted to say, "You're our only hope." I've always wanted to shoot a lazer gun across a bridge way that won't extend, half hiding behind a wall. I've practiced saying, "Could someone get this walking carpet out of my way," just in case I was ever stuck behind a "walking carpet." I even took on the role of Leiah in elementary school recess games.

I've dreamed of the day I could have the perfect hair, the perfect dress, and those great boots, to dress like her, and I was so excited to see a little girl in a white sweat suit and sheet get-up, and little bunches of hair on either side of her head at Trick or Treat storytime. So excited that I ran out that night to get everything I needed for this:


Don't worry. I'm not going to go any farther than this. Remember, it's Halloween, the time when everyone should be what they've always dreamed.

Wednesday or Monday!

Today I dumped an entire cart of books on the floor! I'll be so very excited when this day and week are over and I can go hang out in Boston! Fall colors here I come.