Truffles!

Dustin and I had dinner with new friends last weekend and, after an amazingly delicious homemade ravioli dinner complete with winter vegetables, salad, and bread, we were served homemade truffles. Did you know you could make truffles at home? I most certainly did not. It was just one of those things that someone else made and you paid for.

But no more! A good friend and I decided to try our hand at the ancient and revered art of chocolate making (we used pre-made chocolate. Sorry, we're just not cool enough to roast and press our own chocolate... yet... Hey, Sarah...! ;) ).

These beauties are what we ended up with after several hours and ounces of chocolate. We now know what mud-pie making is really training children for.

Note: The tray was full when we were done, but Sarah was entitled to her half. :)

Dream Log

No weight, just weird.

My dad and I were driving along a country road and I was looking up stuff on my laptop (on the Internet, don't ask me how I had access on a country road). I was at a site that looked much like Hulu.com and found some episodes of the evening news (because in dream land they decided the news wasn't exciting enough and turned it into an action adventure series). They had some mini-commercials comparing two of the actresses and I clicked on one labeled Needs to Learn. Apparently it was universally agreed that the in station news anchor wasn't nearly as cool as the ground woman who, in this TV Action series, in addition to giving the news also helped solve the mysteries. Woohoo. So I clicked on Solving a Problem and watched a short clip of an episode.

The ground woman stepped out of a military jet with a clip board and began interrogating people. She stopped by an army medic who was looking at a dead soldier and quizzed him for details. He was indeed dead, the medic rambled off a bunch of stuff I didn't understand, and then, poisoned. The woman looked concerned and asked if all of them were the same. The man nodded. Her eyes grew wide and said something to the extent of, "How can this be?" as the camera pulled back and showed that they were standing in the middle of a field covered in the bodies of dead soldiers who looked as though they had simply fallen asleep.

I was unsurprised when I looked up from my laptop to find my dad and I were driving right by that particular field and could see the jet and the mounds of bodies. We also saw thousands of people dressed in stereotypical 'savage' type clothing and carrying spears come running towards the jet. Above them was a large grey cloud and behind it was a light that reminded me of when you close your eyes for a really long time and then open them, there's a bunch of little white 'explosions', except these explosions were black. My dad asked me if I though the jet would escape and I said I did, it was mostly air tight so if the cloud had poisoned the soldiers they should be fine and I was pretty sure the last bit of the episode had shown everyone standing in surprise and then running into the jet. Dad pointed out that we might want to pick up our pace a bit, just in case the hoard of people saw us and changed targets. I was all for that.

Then I was with Dustin and he was driving an abandoned school bus. He swerved around children who were trying to poke our wheels with spears. It's strange, trying to live and not kill your enemy at the same time. Some how, seven or so of the children became normal? were normal? I don't remember. They were normal children of the crazy people so we picked them up and headed toward the nearest city (we figured there would be enough people there that could defend themselves, provided we all didn't get poisoned). I began talking with them and asked how this had come about. They didn't know. One minute their families were fine, the next they were donning animal skins and fashioning spears. There were no histories of mental illness, their families were well educated, no they didn't want to go back, their families would just spear them. They didn't really think we would live either but were willing to give it a shot. Another reporter knocked on the bus door and Dustin let her in. She asked if he wanted to stay somewhere safe and he said no, he didn't think the spearmen would be able to take Hilliard. She nodded and then came back to speak with one of the children. That's when I noticed that six of them were under the age of seven, the seventh was at least fifteen, I wondered why that might be but never found out. I encouraged the reporter to interview the children, they were the only 'inside' information we had. She agreed to do so.

I woke up and wondered what was going to happen, I wandered to the bathroom pondering the cloud and the black explosions. When I came back to bed, Dustin lifted up the covers for me. As I climbed in I asked, "Where's Hilliard."

"Um, west."

"Oh, okay." I had been pretty sure it was an actual place.

Snippets

For those who wonder what happened to the lengthy dreams, I'm still dreaming. However, they are in short snippets and shift often to other unrelated snippets and are harder to remember and, quite frankly, not that interesting.

Dream Log

This dream was about children. Lots and lots of children. No weight.

I don't remember it very vividly but my first memory is a big gathering of people. A lot of people I didn't know, but a few that I did, and some people that I knew very well in the dream but now that I'm awake I can't place for the life of me.

We were all playing a card game. Bob Wickham (sp) was there with his western neck tie and Yanna (Sp), both from my old church. Yanna kept trying to sit with her mother but her mother kept moving chairs or disappearing all together. I went back and forth between the game and watching the children. A little boy named Oliver found a way to light fire so I taught him how to stomp it out while it was still small. And there was a woman, a dear friend, who I don't know. It's very frustrating because I know I know her, but I can't find her anywhere in my head. She was very pregnant, eight or nine months.

The next bit is very blurry, I remember trick-or-treating, I remember an African American woman with her very small son. There was a man with them, her brother or husband, I never found out. They had died but were happy because they continued to live without the poverty and fear they had had before. She never said but I got the impression they had lived somewhere inner city. Her son was very sweet, he shook my hand and smiled, which was strange because he was not even a year old.

I got in a car with my mother, I think. And someone else was in a car following me. I think we were friends, I think we were traveling together, I'm not sure. I forget how it happened but we got into an accident. Nothing big, just bumped bumpers, but we were all pulled over anyway. The police man wasn't very nice or thorough. He never asked me what happened (not that I could have told him anyway), he just asked me for a bunch of papers and then told me to get out of the car and lay on the ground with my coat and keys. He did the same to the other car and soon, my dear friend's husband was lying next to me. I asked how everyone in his car was, he said he wasn't sure. He was very quiet. A woman came over and sat with us and asked how many were in the accident. I said we weren't sure (maybe there was a third car, I don't remember), but at least four and a half. She laughed and asked how we could have half a person. My friend finally got out of the car, yelling at the police man (which was very out of her character) and walked into the hospital we happened to be in the parking lot of.

I was suddenly very worried and very afraid. I didn't know how it had happened, but I was fairly sure I had caused the accident. The woman said she understood the half now. I started to cry. I told the woman that I really hoped nothing had happened to the baby. My friend desperately wanted a child and she'd already had three miscarriages. Her husband remained silent. If this one died, it would be my fault.

Dustin called me. I woke up crying.

Dream Log

Hm... maybe I should start naming these dreams. But they don't really feel like they're named. Oh, well. I should also probably starting marking the ones that have 'the weight', that 'this is important' feeling, just so I don't get confused later. Hm...

Alright, then, this is 'I promised him I'd pay more for you' and it didn't have 'the weight'.

My husband and I were on some sort of vacation with my parents. It was 'some sort' because it felt like we were there for my dad's business but the accommodations were amazing. It was an absolutely beautiful five star hotel, complete with huge bathroom. Also, Dustin and I kept hopping back and forth between 'married' and 'not yet married', which was weird. Apparently one of the guests took an interest in me and decided he was going to marry me instead. Sorry, I have no idea what his name was, it never came up, so he's just 'this guy'. He was very suave and had dark hair and was slender... just picture a millionaire's spoiled brat and you've got him.

I went to the restroom for a few minutes and pondered with pity how much work it must be for the poor housekeeper who had to clean it everyday. A brief intermission. When I returned to our room Dustin asked me about this guy who had decided he was going to married me. I told him this guy had been following me around but I wasn't at all interested in him. Dustin gave me a very weighing look, not a 'I'm weighing you' look but a 'I'm thinking very hard and you help me focus' look. "Good," he said, "Because I told him I would pay more for you."

In the dream, Dustin had bought me from my father, in our married/not yet married state. I don't know the exact amount of money that had been agreed upon but it was something with six or more digits. It hadn't been paid yet because Dustin would't have the money until he'd worked for a few years, so until the amount was paid I wasn't officially his. So, this guy walks in, finds out I'm not paid for and then threatens my... betrothed, I suppose. I never did find out exactly what was said but I was under the impression that life was threatened and some how Dustin managed to be willing to pay more for me. This guy had left Dustin with the understanding that he would be hanging around to 1) make it really difficult for him to make enough money and 2) take me when Dustin couldn't pay up.

We ran. I don't know whose car we took but it wasn't ours. Ours doesn't go that fast. But this guy followed us, needless to say, the millionaire's kid's car went really, really fast. We decided we couldn't out run him so we turned around and went to this guy's school. He attended this massive, gilded university. Apparently, we attended, too, because we knew the layout of the student housing and some students recognized me. I left Dustin, two of my brothers, and my sister at which ever house this guy lived in. I wasn't sure what they were doing, I was slightly afraid they were going to kill his car but I didn't say anything. I wasn't interested in marrying him so whatever they did, so long as it worked, was fine by me. My job was to be a decoy.

So I wandered down the street looking sweetly around, trying my best to act exactly how I would have acted back in the room full of my father's highly paid clients. This guy found me wandering around and acts all sweet and suave. I tell him I'm lost, it's such a big place, and I'm trying to find a certain building on campus but I can't seem to find my way through student housing to campus. He smiled and said he'd be happy to walk me but first he needed to stop by his house, I some how convinced him I was really late so he reluctantly agreed to walk me to class first. I don't really know what we talked about on our walk to campus. It was mostly me being in awe of him, the campus, the houses, whatever. I was pretending to be from some small country town. Smiling and sweet, and hoping my husband wasn't going to get himself killed.

We kept seeing electric company signs through out the neighborhood, I knew that Dustin and my siblings were pretending to be workers so no one would question why they were running all over this guy's house. This guy seemed really confused by them and slightly suspicious, but I kept being sweet so he kept walking me along. We finally ended up at the building I 'needed' and this guy just walks in and sits down in the middle of a history lecture. No one chided him for his very rude behavior and I noticed some fearful looks in his direction. He motioned for me to sit down and I smiled and whispered, "But, I'm late for art."

I went outside and looked at the landscape. To my left stood the campus. The entire thing was made of white marble. It was beautiful and awe inspiring. To my right was hill country. Green with trees swaying. It was beautiful and peaceful. The class must have ended because this guy came out and stood by me. I made some comment about the city being amazing, but it didn't look the same with him standing there. It was dreary. Then I pointed to the hill country, which had some how become desolate in just the moment I had looked away. I told him where I was from was more like the hill country and that the city was so strange to me.

We walked toward campus, I still had 'art'. He suddenly started to walk the other way and I knew he was going back to his house. I pouted and suddenly I was warding of this guy who had interpreted my pout as an invitation. I laughed and explained that country folk didn't do that. That I didn't kiss random people. He looked confused and then asked if I was interested in men. I think I responded with, "I'm a woman. But I don't just do that." And wondered why on earth not kissing men left and right was equated with being lesbian. He didn't seem satisfied and I was beginning to wonder how much longer I could distract him without getting into serious trouble.

Dustin appeared beside me, kind of. This guy and I were standing on the sidewalk and Dustin was in the street, there was some kind of rail in between. I had my back to it and Dustin was leaning his stomach against it from the other side. Dustin told this guy that he had fixed this guy's electronics, that was a some odd dollar amount job, and this guy no longer had any claim on me. I wasn't sure if revealing that I had been tricking this guy would be the best thing at the moment so I continued being sweet and smiley. They argued back and forth, this guy never letting go of my tightly held wrist. I kept leaning back on the railing, wishing I could just slip through the bars to Dustin, but I wasn't sure if this guy would let me go, even if I made it through. They kept arguing, I kept pushing. I closed my eyes and then opened them to look at the ceiling.

I heard Dustin breathing next to me and smiled. I'd made it through. Dustin had won.

Connecting

I had a conversation with a friend this weekend and what I realized how true what I said was after I had already said it (strange, I know.)

For those who don't know, I am the oldest of a fairly large motley crew. I have three brothers and a sister. The oldest boy is already attending college, the next one down is a Junior in HS and starting to look seriously at various options, and the youngest brother and my sister are Sophomores. Also for those who don't know: yes, they are twins; no, they are not identical; yes, we get that question fairly often. When I left home, none of them were even in HS yet.

Now, this is the normal course of life. Children grow up, children leave home, and, in our culture, children may never bother to come back. I've seen it happen with my extended family. We've seen both sides an average of every two years. I really want more for my siblings and me. I've been so excited watching us all grow up these last four years. We're not a malicious family (which I have been shocked to observe in other friend's families) or very competitive (at least not against each other) so we get along pretty well.

But they'll leave soon. They'll all go off to college or vocational school or where ever. Will they come back? Will we still be a family? or just the people you send letters to on the holidays?

Now, over the years I have learned exactly why parents are constantly telling the older children to set a good example. What I do, as the oldest, is very persuasive. It shows what is acceptable or, at the very least, what can be gotten away with. So now I am trying my very best to stay connected to them. To be home for the big events. To call to play games just because. To show that I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. To show that I think they are important. That we are important. The whole time silently asking, when you are gone, will you come back home, too?

Will my example be enough? I most surely hope so.

Which is why I am so very excited about this Halloween party and why I was so very upset for the few days when I thought we wouldn't be able to do it. Mom said we could do it next year. But next year won't be the same. Next year we'll all be different people. Next year, Allen could actually be gone and Phillip starting to pack. Next year John could have decided on what he'd like to pursue in life and Valerie could have a personality change (for the parents of teenage girls, you know how that goes) and already had her first boyfriend. Next year is too late. It needs to be now. It's this year that Dad is trying to reconnect, this year that he's had a change in values. Next year mom won't be willing to throw a party like we are this year because they will be gearing up for two in college and the ever ready reason of 'we don't have the money' will be all too convenient.

But it is this year. And we're going to decorate the house like no one could have believed, we're going to pull out all the stops (at least I am), we're going to provided an environment to do what everyone in my family loves to do (theatre), and we're going to pull in every last close friend we can find. Because we're a big, creative, family. And for now, we're friends. And hopefully this event will help us stay that way. Perhaps it will be a precedent, perhaps it will only be a memory. But if it is a memory, it will be a good one. One we can all look back on and say, yeah, my family did that.

And hopefully, when they leave, they will come home again.

The Trip

Okay, so I totally lied about posting stories from our trip to Maine. But here are some pictures: :)

Philadelphia, PA. The Liberty Bell, from the back. It was bigger than I expected, smaller than Dustin expected, go figure.

Philadelphia, PA. Dustin needs a hat and cane.
Somewhere, PA. This is a bridge that crosses the highway, pedestrians only. On one side is the river and on the other side is where they keep all the boats. It was kind of weird to stand in the middle and watch all the cars go under your feet.
Princeton is the prettiest place. Even the people are pretty, in a non-model way, but they dress well.
My boy. :) Some lake in RI.
New Port, RI. This is a monument to a Dutch nautical navigation school, the first discoverers of America.
New Port, RI. Dustin took this picture, I like it.
New Port, RI. This is at a wildlife preservation. I'm standing in front of solar panels that supply 15% of the preservation building's energy. Portland, ME. The Portland Headlight. It was windy but beautiful.

Diana's Baths in Maine are very beautiful. They are made up of a series of waterfalls that fill (or filled, as the actual baths have now decayed) the man made baths pictured below.
The water in the baths was crystal clear and icy cold. We lost feeling in our feet after about 20 seconds. :P
Somewhere in New England. I don't actually know what this is called but it regulates the water flow, Dustin was checking it out.
The Strongs on vacation :D
No, this is not in Ohio. I think it was in Vermont. But a little taste of home.
Niagara Falls are huge. Duh, but no kidding, huge.
Niagara Falls, NY. This little guy is a harbor seal waiting for lunch. He kept looking a the visitors and then at the door to the exhibit. Apparently the seals are fed by trainers at 10 AM and then visitors at 12 and 2 PM. He just didn't' know whose turn it was.
Niagara Falls. An abbreviated version of our trip. We have over 100 pictures and just as many stories but they're not getting typed out :P

Ouch

I am out of shape. Ow. I've been doing a workout video and today's day three. I am sore, in pain, and very much aware that my muscles are out of shape. They're not as strong nor as flexible as they once were. Everything hurts. I reach up to get a plate out of the cupboard and I twinge in my arm, back, and side. Dustin hugs me and my back and shoulders complain. I climb into bed and my legs, back and arms all inform me that they really don't want to.

But with all the pain, it's still nice. I sweat way more than I should and when I'm done I smell. I was surprised that sweat was nostalgic for me. I used to be on a competitive gymnastic team and at the gym 9ish hours a week during the school year, more in the summer. The gym always smelled like sweat and chalk. So when I was lying in a stretch and breathed in lots of sweat smell, I was annoyed for a brief moment before I was in Texas East gym and wondering why the sweat smelled strange. Then I realized: there was no chalk to make it smell dry, this was wet sweat. I smiled and just breathed it in and wondered how many people would think I was weird because I like the smell of sweat.

Today was easier than yesterday, yesterday I got to do the workout in spite of the pain, today it still hurt but not quite as badly.