Christmas Gift Mis-Adventure

I tend to get hare-brained ideas for "fun" gifts come Christmas time.  Usually they work out.  Okay, they've always worked out, but some years go smoother than others.  I can't really remember the last time one went as awry as this one.

Somehow I got it stuck in my mind that it would be fun to make ice cream for everyone. The ice cream that Jay made for my book release party was a huge hit, so I thought, "why not?".  We have two ice cream makers, so of course I thought it would be a breeze.  Our Cuisinart is amazing, and while I had never used the KitchenAid ice cream maker attachment, I assumed it would be amazing as well. 

Once I settled on gourmet ice cream for everyone for Christmas, I started looking for containers to put them in.  Sweet Bliss Containers had what I was looking for and more! I happened to run across a sorbet recipe that I *had* to make.  So instead of one gourmet flavor, we were now up to two that we were going to make for everyone.  I made the list of people who were going to receive the ice cream and came up with ten families/couples.  Not bad.  Essentially twenty quarts of ice cream that Jay and I were going to have to crank out.

No problem.

However, we're procrastinators who were really enjoying being off of work and we didn't get around to starting the ice cream until Monday evening about six o'clock.  No problem.  We had twenty-three, well, make that twenty-two hours before we actually needed the ice cream.  We were ahead of the game.  Right?  It only takes twenty minutes in the Cuisinart to make a batch of ice cream, so I assumed the KitchenAid would be about the same.

We started with our bases.  We thought we could made a base, set it to cool, start a second base, then put the first batch in the ice cream makers while the second batch cooled, and start our third batch.  It worked out perfectly.  In my mind.  In reality, it didn't work at all.

Cream cheese vanilla ice cream and Chocolate Aztec sorbet base

First batch in my beloved KitchenAid.  I was very, very disappointed to say the least.  The KitchenAid ice cream maker sucks.  I'd be really pissed about it if I'd spent any money on it, but it came as part of our rebate when we bought our mixer (which I love and can't believe I lived without it for so long).  If all we had was the KitchenAid one and I had never used the Cuisinart, I might like it.  But we have the Cuisinart and it's worth every penny.

Save your money.  Buy a Cuisinart instead.

Jay's batch went into the Cuisinart, which worked like a champ.  For the first batch.  After that, we were just asking too much from it.

I love this ice cream maker.

Once we realized that the bases weren't cooling fast enough to go into the makers, we tried to cool them faster.  It was 19*F outside and we still had some snow left, so out the bowls went.  We were hoping to cool both the bowls and the bases.  After an hour, we brought in the bowls and started them up again. It was a nice thought, but didn't work.

Our outdoor cooling area.

After spending hours trying to get our first batch cooled and packed, we gave up and spooned all of the base into the ice cream containers.  After all, the machine is not necessary for making ice cream; it just helps to cool everything to the right consistency.  With the decision made to not use the ice cream makers, we cranked out the rest of our bases and put them in the containers, then packed them into the freezer and crossed our fingers.

The worst part of my "let's make cool stuff for Christmas" ideas, by far, are the dishes.  Gah!  I hate doing dishes.

Man, I hate doing dishes.

We finally fell into bed about one a.m. and hoped that our freezer would be up to the job of hard-freezing twenty quarts of ice cream.  When we rolled out of bed the next morning, we had chilled soup.  We stirred the soup, recapped the containers, and crossed our fingers again.  We consulted the gift list and realized we only absolutely had to have four sets of ice cream for Christmas Eve.  Everyone else we would see on Christmas Day, so that bought us almost twenty-four additional hours of freezer time.

Finally!

We got lucky and managed to eek out our first four sets just in time for Christmas Eve.

Whew!

Making Christmas Gifts

And they're wonderful and fabulous and it's killing me not to post about them right now.  But if I posted what I was making, and how I was making it, then everyone would know and it wouldn't be a surprise.

I come from a large family. Two brothers and a sister doesn't seem that large, but you add in parents, aunts/uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews and it gets big fast.  So many, many years ago, I started making gifts.  I've made Irish Cream (yum) a couple of years running and bococcini (I think that's how it's spelled - I'm feeling too lazy to look it up right now) plus stuff I don't even remember.  This year, I came up with something different, thinking it would be fun.  However, Jay and I are procrastinators and we didn't even start the gifts until about six o'clock this evening.  We've got ten sets to make and things aren't moving as quickly as we'd like.  Yikes!  That's what we get for procrastinating.  (Also explains why I'm blogging about pretty much nothing right now.)

I do have faith we'll get it all done by tomorrow night and, by God, people better LOVE their gifts!

Once everyone's received their gifts that we're slaving over, I'll get a post up complete with pictures.  Until then, keep your fingers crossed.

Hunted Lyon

I've been more scarce than usual.  And that's really, really scarce.

But I have a good excuse.  Really, I do.

You see, my NaNoWriMo goal this year was to have the novel I've been working on for four years finally ready for publication.  At some point, I had to quit mucking around and just do it.

So I did.

I'm excited about this book.  It's been a labor of love and I've learned a lot about myself in the process.  Namely, that I am who I am.  I can't imitate other authors.  People will either love my writing or hate it, but it's me.  The more I tried to be someone I wasn't, the more I hated the book. I dropped the pretenses and - viola! - I love the book.   I've learned to appreciate (even more so) authors who can paint pictures with their words, for whom flowery descriptions flow from their fingertips onto the page.  I have an editor who makes my writing much less clunky, but who doesn't try to change my "voice", for which I am forever grateful.

I'm blessed to be married to an incredible graphic designer who comes up with drool-worthy covers.  Heck, even if you hate the book, you have to love the cover.

I'm also blessed to have a daughter who is a total BA and was willing to become the "face of Stacy Lyon".  Note: Ashinator can, and does, shoot.  Rifle, shotgun, pistol.  Ambidextrously.  Don't mess with GunDiva's daughter.

Barring unforeseen catastrophes, HUNTED LYON will be available for purchase from Amazon on Sunday, December 1.

Halfway There

Back in September, I got all excited about the opportunity to take an online class based on The Walking Dead and immediately signed up.

The first week was The Foundation of Survival.  I struggled a bit with this class, because I don't buy into Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs.  I just don't.  I've seen too many people move ahead in life despite not having fulfilled one of the "basic" needs.  For example, I had a homeless student who spent time in and out of the hospital with brain infections.  She graduated, got healthy, and bought her first home.  According to the Hierarchy, she shouldn't have been able to focus on her education if she was unable to meet her basic and safety needs.

Week two was Public Health and Diseases.  Finally something I was comfortable with!  I loved this section, but I'm hard-pressed to put my finger on just why I loved it, other than Public Health has always fascinated me.

Evolving Society was week three and I was caught by surprise.  I didn't think I would like this, but after listening to the lectures and then watching the examples given, I started looking at the show in a whole new light.

Shoot me now!  I mean it.  This week was even more painful than the Maslow week.  Gah!  Social identities.  Bleh.  I made it through.  Barely.

But only because I'm looking forward to next week's class: Modeling A Zombie Outbreak.  Yes, there will be math involved, but it goes hand-in-hand with the Public Health issue of outbreaks, which makes me happy.

We're Officially a Writing Family!

Back in August, I published my first book.  It was a long time in coming, as the stories contained in it spanned nine years.  I was overwhelmed to hold my book in my hand when it arrived in the mail.  I thought nothing could ever come close to that feeling of accomplishment and pride in my work.

But then, Jay finished his children's book.  When I finally got my hands on his proof copy and got to look at the vibrant colors in the illustrations and run my fingers over the characters I have loved for almost five years, well, that feeling was even more profound than when I held my own book.

I watched Jay bring his characters to life and to finally get to hold the book in my hand - it has to be similar to holding a newborn after watching your spouse go through pregnancy and labor.  I couldn't stop picking it up and flipping through it.

If you have small children, you have to buy his book, not because my hubby wrote it, but because it's just so beautiful.  In most children's books, the artwork supports the story, but in Jay's book, the story supports the artwork.





You can find it on Amazon now or Barnes and Noble in a couple of days.

Leaving the Nest

Monster, my youngest, has marched to the sound of his own drummer for a long time.  Sometimes, doing so has gotten him into trouble (and not the "you're grounded" kind of trouble, I wish it was that) and, being a firm believer in natural consequences, I've tried not to fix things for him.  If he was smart (or dumb) enough to get himself in the predicament, he should get himself out.  He's realized that maybe some choices he made years ago are still having some repercussions and that maybe those choices weren't the best.

He has also realized that if he continues on the path he's on, nothing good is going to happen for him.  Being an impulsive soul, he came to my office the other day and told me he wanted to start fresh.  He wanted to leave Colorado and start over some place where not everyone knows his past mistakes.  At first I was upset and accused him of running away from his problems (ok, I still feel that way a little bit), but then as we were talking, he came up with a plan that I could get on board with.  Not that he needed my permission, seeing as how he's eighteen.

I thought back to what I did at eighteen and realized that moving away from home wasn't nearly as bad as getting married, which is what I did.  And then at twenty, twenty-one, and twenty-three I popped out three kids in a row.  Looking back on that, I realized moving away to start fresh wasn't so horrible after all.

I hope he can truly make a fresh start out in Kentucky.  He has moved in with a friend's parents, who were kind enough to tell him he could live there for two months while he looked for a job and a place to live.  I don't know these people, have never met them, and kind of get the feeling they think they're "saving" Monster by offering him a place to stay.  At one point that would have bothered me, people thinking that they could "save" my son when I couldn't, but it doesn't any more.  If they think they can control him and get him on the straight and narrow when I couldn't, more power to them.

Tuesday was moving day.  Monster packed his suitcase and backpack and Jay and I took him to the airport.

I don't care that he's eighteen and old enough to do this by himself, it was still hard to let him go through security by himself.  As I was standing there, watching him wind through the line, I worried about all of the things I should have told him or taught him about navigating the airport.  I worried about if he'd find his gate and board on time.  I worried about all sorts of things that were out of my control once he stepped into that line at the airport.

But mostly, what I saw as I was watching him go through security was my little boy.  The one with the big heart who could make us all laugh and warm the hardest heart.  The one whose favorite Jimmy Buffett song in the whole world is Jolly Mon.

Almost Famous

Or as close to almost famous as I can get.

Momma Fargo interviewed me over at her blog.  Hope on over.  Anyone who leaves a comment will be entered into a drawing for a copy of my book.