there's no place like gnome.

I’m finally blogging again and I’m blogging about mice.

Mice.

Because they are currently living in my kitchen. Under my sink and in the drawer beneath the stove. Even on top of the dishwasher. Stupid mice.

I noticed their … um, evidence … a couple weeks ago and began setting traps under the sink. The total so far is five. Five mice has been caught and killed under my sink. (And you know how many I’ve had to touch or remove? None. I’m pretty lucky to have a church member who had come to fix the dishwasher, a boyfriend who is nice, and a pest control guy around.)

So right. The pest control guy, Ed, comes to the church every month to check traps and deal with pests such as mice and bugs and the like. He came today and I snagged him to walk over to the parsonage with me. It was from Ed I heard dreadful tales.

Did you know that mice can crawl through the smallest of holes? His measure? A ballpoint pen. If he can fit his pen through an opening, a mouse could fit. How disturbing is that?! Creepy mice contorting their bodies. Eww.

They also love pet food. Here I’m practically inviting them to come stay with me because of Mabel’s food that sits in her dish. That food isn’t for you, mice.

Ed set a few more traps and investigated the basement. He plugged up a few potential entry spots on the outside of the house too. Thank goodness for Ed.

Here’s hoping the end of the problem is near. Though Ed also mentioned something about how mice usually come by the dozen …

… since I’m certainly not present here lately. Hopefully I’ll be back soon.

How was your Sunday? Mine was filled with both fun and slightly eclectic occurrences. It started by looking outside and seeing this:

Good morning, indeed.

In worship, the kids and I sprinkled the congregation with water in remembrance of baptism. In Sunday school, I led the kids in more splashing of water and some good old follow the leader.

Following worship, I caught a bit of the Packer game (My family would be proud.) before heading to Dave’s to help him put up drywall. (Say what?) It’s true. I learned how to put up drywall. He saved the last piece for me to do (nearly) myself with his guidance. Check that off the list.

Then we retreated back to the parsonage where we began deconstructing the wingback chair I bought to reupholster. We did a bit before becoming frustrated with an innumerable amount of tiny staples. We took a break to watch a few YouTube videos about what exactly we’d gotten ourselves into. It will be a project for sure; a project more difficult and time-consuming than drywall.

We drank some of this (a hard cider we made and uniquely named back in November) and called it a night (after we both participated in winding some floss on floss bobbins for my next cross stitch project). It was a good Sunday.

Cross stitching was one of my very first adventures into the crafting world. My mom taught me to cross stitch as an elementary schooler. Well, guess what? I’m doing it again. I feel like cross stitch, much like quilting, is experiencing a modern resurgence. And I’m jumping on board.

So far, it’s just really bossy, telling us to GO. But soon it will say something much nicer. I bought the pattern off of etsy – a place where you can buy lots of ‘modern’ patterns.

What do I like about this return to cross stitch?

First, it is much, much, MUCH cheaper than quilting. Pattern, thread and cloth cost me well under $10. Second, it’s highly transportable and can be done nearly anywhere. Third, it’s got snark.

Snarky cross stitch. It’s a thing. It’s fun to see something completely snarky or random cross stitched in pastels with flowers. (ie ‘Damn, it feels good to be a gangster’ or other things I would never write here or hang in my own house.) It’s fun.

I wouldn’t be surprised if from now on, I always have a quilting project (or six) in progress along with a cross stitch project of some kind. It is, after all, Downton Abbey and Bachelor season; I need something to keep my hands busy while watching!

How did you ring in the new year?

I ate Mexican food and played Just Dance on the wii. Dave and I created a list which I entitled ‘Dave and Lindsay’s 2015 List of Awesome.’ He thinks the title needs works; I think it describes the hope for 2015 perfectly: awesome. We created a list of things we want to do in the new year (camp, take a trip, try new recipes, learn to play chess, etc.). Then we watched the latest Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie and I fell asleep, waking only briefly to say happy new year at midnight and then falling back asleep. #partyhard

Yesterday, as I reflected on the year past and the year to come, I pulled out my found poetry supplies from the journeying class I took a couple summers ago on Madeline Island. And, as one would say about found poetry, a poem found me. Here is my new year poem:

Happy New Year, friends! Here’s hoping it’s the best one yet.

Quilt finish, that is.

I delivered quilt #4 (5? 6? I’ve lost track.) for 2014 to its new family today and met baby Amelia – a precious, adorable five day old peanut. Amelia Kay was born to my college besties, Joe and Amanda. I’m so thrilled they live in Northfield now; I’m only and hour away from a baby to cuddle. (And dear friends.)

2015 is on tap to be a crazy quilt year. I have six baby quilts to finish in the first half of the year. I love it. Here’s to happy crafting in the new year.

It is here.

I hope this day and the next couple find you with those you love.

It’s been a busy few days leading up to the holiday, as I’m sure it has been for you too. Last minute shopping and wrapping. Grocery shopping and worship planning. Christmas cards were not sent … again, I had high hopes that the time would present itself and it. did. not. I love and appreciate all the cards from you I have received – they have brightened my days.

Last night was my favorite candlelight service and this morning a Christmas Day service. From there, it was the second year I didn’t/couldn’t head home to Wisconsin for the holiday. With Thursday being so close to Sunday, the drive and stress about the weather both seemed too much. I am super sad to not be home with family but have been savoring a long day of pajamas and relaxing. (Brunch and lasagna too, with a hospital visit in there for good measure.)

Merriest of Christmases to you!

I’m not baking any cookies for a couple reasons. First, I am gifted enough sweets to feed a dozen of my closest friends. (Come on over!) I feel little need to add to that delicious pile.

However, I am also not baking cookies (or anything for that matter) because my oven is out of commission. Because this happened on Sunday night –

See, with a dog in the house, sometimes I hide/keep food items in my oven. You know, things like plastic cutting boards. And then, sometimes, after a week of non-use, I turn on the oven to bake bread and forget to remove the food items.

Opps?

It was my own darn fault and luckily the flames were small. I caught it early and the fire extinguisher was nearby. I’d never used a fire extinguisher before; good thing they are user friendly. And good thing I don’t have a bird. I just learned that the plastic fumes would have been super bad for my fictional bird. It could have killed Chirp. (That’s what I named my fake bird. Oh, and I should credit that information about birds to Mister B.B. – a resource in bird-lore and many other things.)

So I am not doing any baking. I still have a little more plastic cutting board to scrape off the bottom before it can be used again. I also continue to vacuum and wipe up the fire extinguisher dust that covered the kitchen (including inside the fridge because, you know, I was putting away groceries when I suddenly realized I needed to check the oven). From this time forward, you can bet I check the oven every time I turn it on.

And that, my friends, is my dumb Lindsay move and why I’m not baking Christmas cookies.

Thanksgiving was two weeks ago and I haven’t told you about the annual Thanksgiving Day Bake-Off held at the Danielson gathering. Cousin Connor and I have chosen a theme and hosted this bake off for eight? nine? years now. It seems that though Connor and I lose a bit of steam each year in the planning of the event, the rest of the family won’t let it die. This year our theme was cinnamon & social justice (Don’t ask.) and I won by default since Connor decided to not actually enter a dessert. Mine was an apple dump cake with protest signs. It was quite delicious, if I don’t say so. #pinterestwin

I also baked a bunch of mini pumpkin pies for the boyfriend’s birthday. (His request.) And wouldn’t you know – the BBQ (boyfriend birthday quilt) was finished on time and loved by its recipient.

After thanksgiving, Mama Leanne came to stay with me for five nights. We shopped and completed projects and she helped me get ready for an open house I hosted at the parsonage. We explored the surrounding area, including a stop in the cutest, smallest little town named Stockholm across the river in Wisconsin. They have a well-known pie shop; you betcha we stopped.

I hosted an open house at the parsonage and the next day was my birthday. Dave treated me to dinner in Rochester and then we stopped outside of Hayfield to take in a Christmas lights display that has quite the reputation. Lights set to music; you tune your radio to a certain station when you drive in. It was pretty darn awesome. After the lights, we ate cake that Dave baked. He baked me a cake. A cake with dinosaur sprinkles. What more does a girl need?

(This post is quickly becoming all about food.) Last night, Dave and I finally made a dish we have talked about making FOREVER. Fresh spring rolls with peanut sauce. Thank you, Pioneer Woman, for a delicious recipe. It was pretty splendid. Dave’s creeper skills are also pretty awesome.

Life just seems to continue moving at a pretty constant/busy/insane pace in all aspects – work, creative, and personal. It’s mostly all good things but phew. I’m holding out for a few days of rest after Christmas. (And to think Christmas Eve is two weeks from today! Cue freak out.)

Hey guys. So, can we just forget about the fact that I haven’t blogged in, like, forever? For no real particular reason, it has seriously been forever. Okay. Moving on. (I will mention that it feels good to be back. Maybe it will become a semi-regular habit of mine again. But don’t hold your breath … )

It’s my birthday today. I’m 31.

Last year, when I turned 30, I joked that I was having a third-life crisis. That feeling of doom and gloom surrounding life and what I thought it should be and wasn’t propelled me into a pretty great year. They are saying 30 is the new 20 …

In the last year, I –

Learned that red hair highlights are so me.

Bought a church pew. Because why not, right?

Tried lots of new things. The boyfriend thing, the motorcycle thing, the bicycle thing, the geocaching thing, the gardening thing. I love and will continue in all of those adventures except the motorcycle deal.

Traveled to Ireland! (And Glacier National Park. And Pennsylvania.)

Became at home and happy in this call and parsonage.

And you know, lots of other things. Lots of other good things. 30 brought a year of crying exponentially less than the year of 29. Let’s raise a glass to that.

And while the glasses are raised, here’s to a great year of being 31.