PEARL WINNERS!

Dear Friends,

Thanks for all your support with this fun fundraising endeavor!

Winners were picked via random number generator (Okay, I would have had this done this morning, but I seriously spent ALL DAY thinking it was Monday, again. Oh, stop it. You've done it, too.) and it's always anguish for me because I want you ALL to win!

Winner time!

The gorgeous strand of WHITE pearls goes to none other than the illustrious:

BRITTANY KJAR of New York!!!

(send me your addy, kay?)

And the lovely strand of PINK pearls goes to the brilliant and lovely:

NAE of Orem, UT!!!

I'm very excited for you both, because you are both totally and completely deserving and awesome and will so totally ROCK these.

Thanks, again, everyone!

(Aren't giveaways fun?!)

If you didn't win and would like to order a strand, Tori said that she could extend the deadline for today, only - so shoot me an email if you'd like to order! (Limited Supply on the Pink, just to warn!)

Win a Strand of Freshwater Pearls

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I love pearls. To me, they are classic, simple and lovely.

There’s something about a strand of them hanging about my neck. Or peeking coolly from my ear when I brush my hair from my shoulders. 

They are my favorite. A day I get to wear pearls is a good day.

I love the interesting irregularity of a strand of freshwater pearls. The way they glint, more subtly than a diamond. Understated and self-assured. Like a classy woman. She makes her presence known without showing off.

This is why I’m so excited to be able to offer two of my lovely readers a 50+ inch knotted strand of freshwater pearls! I know, right?! Best. Giveaway. Ever!

One in white…

One in Pink…

Not only do you get to have one of these beauties of your very own (retail value of $100!), you get to help my very charming, very deserving cousin go on Ballroom tour.

Meet Tori.

All proceeds (Giveaway included, so enter one and all!) from these pearls go directly to helping Tori go on Ballroom Tour.

I went on Ballroom Tour when I was in High School. It is a BIG DEAL! A great adventure, a wonderful learning opportunity, and a ridiculous amount of fun. She has to go. So lets get her there, shall we?

To enter to win, leave a comment telling me which strand you’d like. And, because we’re trying to get this girl on tour, you get an extra entry for each share (facebook, twitter, blog post, google+, instagram?, vine? Or heck, just email your best friend!); just come back and leave a new comment for each shared entry.

Enter to win a strand for yourself, but consider, perhaps, a strand for your Mother or Grandmother? Or (elbow nudge to the husbands) your beautiful wife? Remember that Mother’s Day is next month – and what better way to honor the great women in your life than by presenting them with a symbol of their own power and purity?

Right now, and because Tori’s dad is in the jewelry biz and is incredibly generous, you can order a strand of the white pearls for the low low price of $25 each. That’s ¼ of what you’d pay in store. You can get a strand of the pink pearls for $30.

Yes. Yes, I’m serious.

You have until the 15^th of April (that’s Monday, people!) to let me know how many you’d like to order.

Tori will even gift wrap on request (even if you’re buying a strand for yourself, because who doesn’t like to open a pretty box?).

Out of state readers – we are happy to ship anywhere within the United States for an additional $2.50.

So count up your birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, weddings, and just-becauses (and, of course, the Mothers in your life!) and let me know how many you’d like by April 15^th (MONDAY!). Stepperthemighty at gmail dot com.

Giveaway ends Monday, April 15th at midnight and will be announced Tuesday.  

GOOD LUCK!

(The opinions herein are mine in truth. I was not finagled, bribed or in any way coerced into sharing this sweet deal with you except that, well, I like you. And also, Tori is an excellent babysitter.)

How to Slice a Grapefruit, a Pineapple, and an Apple and Still Have Time to Eat Them!

Mom and Dad came for Gyoza and Games the other night. I like to serve grapefruit with gyoza because A) it's a wonderful flavor contrast and B) grapefruit aids in digestion and helps keep the body from over-absorbing salt (as in, say, soy sauce!). Plus, grapefruit is just one of my favorites, ever.

"I love the grapefruit!" my Mom said, "what a treat!" And after enthusiastic murmurs of agreement circled the table, she added, "it must have taken you forever to slice and peel all this."

"No," I said. "I don't peel it, I cut it. And that makes getting all the bitter peel and skin off a lot easier and quicker."

"You'll have to show me," she said.

Well, it's not very often that my culinary-capable mother doesn't already know a trade-trick, so I couldn't help but feel a bit of misplaced flattery. And - this grapefruit trick really does make the fruit so much easier to manage - so I decided I'd share the trick with everyone.

And, while I'm at it, I thought I'd share how to cut a Pineapple (which has been known to intimidate my sister-in-law) and the easy way to slice apples without one of those pushy-downy apple-slicer thingies. Because the methods for all three are fairly similar (and can also be used on the illusive kiwi and the unruly watermelon!).

STEPPER'S QUICK AND EASY GET AT THE MEAT OF YOUR GRAPEFRUIT (WITHOUT THE BITTER PEELS OR SKINS) QUICKLY BECAUSE "AIN'T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT" METHOD:

Begin with a delicious and fragrant grapefruit that you may or may not have purchased from Costco or Macey's because they have the best ones. Give her a good scrub before you operate.

 Cut off the top and the bottom (where the navel indents are) of the fruit. Try to cut just deep enough that you're past the skin beneath the peel, but not deep enough that you're cutting away too much of the meat.

 Now you can stand the grapefruit up on one of the sliced edges, and she won't roll away from you. Now, too, you can see where the meat meets the skin/peel. Take your scalpel, and with a steady hand and much precision, slice along the membrane, separating the meat from the skin.

Like-a-dis!

See that beautiful exposed flesh? Are you blushing?
Do it some more.

TA DA! Your grapefruit is now not only freed from the rough and bumpy peel, but also from the bitter skin! Now you just have to free it from the skin that encases it from within. Slice her in half...

 Now you'll be able to see very easily the meat of the fruit, and you can remove it from the skin. Use your fingers, and gently pull away the piece from the skin...

Then pull the skin away from the next piece...

Rinse and repeat. Here's your rewards from just one grapefruit:

 Pretty sweet, right? And that took maybe half a minute, once you get into your groove.



NOW, ZE STRANGE LOOKING THICK-SKINNED LADY PINEAPPLE AND HOW TO GET AT HER WONDERFULLY SWEET AND TART HEART OF GOLD:

First you pick your lady. You want her to be fragrant when sniffed, have a slight give to her underbelly and leafy mane that surrenders easily when pulled. I have always loved Costco's pineapples - and you usually can't beat the price. Plus, they are usually PLUMP little vixens.

Give her a scrub in your sink.

 Once she's ready, chop off her head.

 Chop off the bottom, too. Now you can stand the pineapple up securely. Just as with the grapefruit, now you can see where the juicy flesh meets the tough skin. Slice down along that meeting place, separating the skin from the flesh.

 Don't worry about it being perfect. Pineapples are nobby, and will leave behind pocked barbs as you slice away the skin. Just get the bulk of the skin off for now.

Then, when she's bare, you can groom her (using your knife to go over the outside, again, cutting away the remaining nobs and barbs).

 Then cut her in half, lengthwise.

Lay each half down, and cut again. Now you have four wedges.

 The core of the pineapple is tough, and unedible. Luckily, you now have easy access to it! When you stand a wedge up, you can see the white-ish core at the corner of the wedge. You can see where the white stops and the yellow begins - and can easily cut it off.

 The cool part about is step - besides having just the deliciousness of the edible parts of the pineapple remaining - is that you now have a flat surface to set your 4 wedges on for easy slicing.

Slice them lengthwise first, getting at least 4 "lines" of pineapple out of each wedge. Then you can slice them horizontally, creating pineapple squares.

You've conquered the pineapple - now enjoy your spoils!

HOW TO SLICE AN APPLE WITHOUT ONE OF THOSE PUSHY-DOWN APPLE-SLICER THINGIES:

Choose your apple (points if it's a Fuji), wash your apple. Slice your apple in half.

Then slice it in half, again (kind of like the pineapple wedges):

Then set each quarter onto it's side so the middle core part is exposed. Slice it off.

Now you've got those lovely flat edges, again, for non-rolling slice action!

So slice!

Slice away!

Put them together, and what do you got? Bippity, Boppety, BOO-tiful FRUIT SALAD!!!

(Okay, this is just sliced apples and satsumas -
but you can imagine the deliciousness of the
pineapple and grapefruit, added, here!)

He's All Grownz Up!

TWO!

So far, Hank has requested the Birthday Song two dozen times.
He's had 2 burgers (his favorite)
and a handful of letter cookies from Trader Joes (the boy loves cookies).

Breakfast in bed was a hoot (and he demanded the birthday song no less than 6 times while we stood around him watching him eat).

Wyatt chose his birthday balloons (we're celebrating with family on Sunday).
Daphne chose what kinds of cookies to make (for Sunday, and because cookies are his favorite - and his first word).

Tonight, we are taking him out to dinner and to the local toy store.

...but...

...I don't have a baby, anymore.

Shapes in our Toast

Over breakfast of eggs, oranges and marbled rye toast with cinnamon sugar, the kids and I found shapes in our bread...

Wyatt found a digger...

He sees diggers in the clouds, too.

Daphne found a "unicorn watching the stars shooting!"

My Little Pon-eeeee!

And I, of course, found a wizards hat.

"GRYFFINDOR!" says the Sorting Hat.

I thought all three were significantly and appropriately matched to those consuming them.

In other news, I spent a wonderful evening last night with my fellow behind-the-scenes peeps of the upcoming Story@Home conference (end of this month!).

If you are into stories - especially true stories about actual people - especially especially true stories about actual people who are RELATED TO YOU - I highly recommend this conference. I went last year and was inspired right up onto Cloud Nine, leaving me giddy for a month. It's for geneologists, storytellers and bloggers alike. Even if you're only telling the (completely true and compelling) tale of your breakfast toast.

Febru-Wary!

February is a heavy month.

I can't quite say with exact honesty that I hate February. It seems a bit reckless to lump an entire 28 days into one steamy pot of antagonistic feeling. But I will say that February puts me on edge. I begin to get that anxious feeling toward the end of January, and feel an immense relief and lightness of load come the first of March.

On the first of February this year, my Grandmother left us mortals to go on to bigger and better things. While I am pleased that she is freed from the physical pains and limitations of this world (and she seemed to have more than her fair share of these), my world is a more hollow place without her fiesty spirit roaming these battlegrounds.

Her funeral fell between the anniversaries of the deaths of Bill's mother and father.

Then last week, we learned that Bill's aunt Hollie lost her battle with the same Cancer that took my Mother-in-Law. Her son is getting married later this year.

And a 6 year old girl in my community passed away unexpectedly and without known cause.

I think the Grim Reaper must have been born in February. 

This is not to say that the month is devoid of all Joys.

Aunt Gloria is doing better than her doctors predicted would be possible. The graft is taking. We are warned there will be ups and downs, but right now is an up, and we're grateful. She was able to come to Grandma's funeral.

Two of my brothers-in-law celebrate their birthdays within days of each other. I really like both of them, and am inspired by their willing attitudes (they are always helping me out with the heavy lifting - often literally!).

I hosted Book Club and got to talk about one of my top 10 stories of all time: Ender's Game. We had Mexican food. There was cake.

We had dinner and a Downton-Abbey-a-thon with the always-a-good-time Terry family.

My long-time friend Mikelle came for dinner and games, and brought us pizza and a giant bag of High Chews. Bill declared them to be his favorite. Mikelle "forgot" to take the bag with her at the end of the evening. 

It was my turn to teach Joy School, and I had an absolute blast with those kids. And Daphne got to participate, which made my heart sing! 

And, of course, Valentines Day. I gave Bill a book. He gave me pearls. The kids were generous with their sticky candy kisses. We put them to bed and had a date in our basement. We ate Cafe Rio and watched a fantastically compelling Western.

So the Month is not an entire loss. I won't hybernate through it - though at times I was sorely tempted.

But the next time February rolls around, I will be treading softly.

And possibly be covered in bubble wrap.



(a shout-out to Chim, who compelled me to start blogging, again. Thanks, dude!)

Saving Gloria

Gloria with her youngest daughter, Kelene

Dear Reader,

I wrote this post days ago, but hesitated to be so forthright with something so personal that my aunt and her family is going through. I questioned whether it was my place to share this story, even to ask for your prayers to be added to ours, kind reader. What was my opinion in the scope of something so large? But today, the day of the actual transplant, my cousins have shared the story through various social medias, and so I would like to do my part. I beg their forgiveness if I am in any way not as gentle in my treatment as I feel in my heart. And I wish them all to know how much I love them. Thanks for listening.

Stepper


Mom had forgotten her phone that morning, so she was there when Shawn and Rischelle came by around lunch time to pick up Kale. Kale and Wyatt and Daphne were sitting at the swinging bar stools, deep in the world of Play-Dough. I began helping with the clean up, praising their creative inventions in hushed tones while I listened to my mother and her brother and sister-in-law talk.

About Gloria.

My Aunt Gloria could not have been better named. A strong woman full of grace despite having suffered much should be named for Glory. And growing up, I always felt my aunt was glorious to behold. Straight shouldered, slender but tough, blond hair always expertly styled in a modern cut that highlighted her fantastic cheekbones. She came to family birthday parties, dinners and holidays and sat on our couch with legs crossed at the ankles, quiet and smiling. Her laugh is the one I remember when someone was funny. She was gorgeous and mysterious. My whole life, she was this. Even as I aged and graduated from sitting at the kid table and the terrible secrets of adulthood that the grown ups only discussed when “little pigs with big ears” couldn’t hear turned out to be not so much terrible and exciting as they were difficult, complicated and often depressing, my Aunt Gloria remained untouched by my newfound cynicism. Faced with immeasurable loss and too much grief for one heart to take, my glorious aunt remained a white pillar candle, burning stubbornly against the dampening dark of her difficult life, holding her family together. She was still quiet strength. Fortified femininity.

Even now. Even when faced with terminal cancer.

Shawn, Rischelle and my sweet mother stood in the space where the kitchen and the family room meet, talking about Gloria’s prognosis. It struck me as I moved about, picking up bits of play dough off the counter and floor, that I had never heard them talk like this. Like siblings who grew up together, talking in comfortable and loving terms about their big sister who was in very grave trouble.

I felt like I was trespassing on holy ground.

I hadn’t heard anyone discuss her situation in such straightforward terms, before. For her entire two year battle with the disease, every time I had asked about her my questions were met with vague ambiguity. Her condition was hard to understand – even for her doctors. The first clue I had about her condition having worsened was before Christmas, when over the phone I asked my Mom how Aunt Gloria was doing, and after a sorrow filled pause, my mom quietly said, "not so good."

But here, among siblings, there was no kind avoidance. No sugar coating. No brave face – even though my feeling is that I’ve never seen a braver bunch, my mom and her siblings – just honesty.

My aunt was dying.

Without the treatment, this disease would take her life. With the treatment (a bone marrow transplant from Shawn – who was a miraculous perfect match – to Gloria), her chances improved to about 40%.

Well, I don’t know all that much about transplants or percentages, but to me, 40% isn’t good enough.

There’s also the chance, Shawn said, that the transplant itself could kill her.

This soon to the procedure, the doctors felt they needed to lay it out straight. My aunt has terminal cancer (which I wasn’t so concretely aware of before hearing this conversation). The treatment is dismal. Her chances seem too dismal for my liking. Yet my beautiful aunt remains radiant.

And Shawn acts like giving his bone marrow (and the grueling process before and after the procedure) is nothing. And I suppose for a brother to have the means to give his big sister a chance at life may feel like a no-brainer. But he is our family hero. The tender messages Gloria’s children have sent to Shawn thanking him for his gift catch at my heart.

Of course we hope and pray for the miracle. I can’t think of a more deserving bunch. But at times like this, when so much is at stake, I am so grateful for my faith in the gospel. In times like these, this kind of knowledge gives the comfort that is so desperately needed. The understanding that otherwise fails.

And the family unity that sees us through, no matter what.

 

See Gloria's official blog here.

Coming to Utah - a Picture Collage

Snuggled into the back of Cousin Matty's truck for the trek to the airport. We owe Matty a severe debt of gratitude for being willing to give up his whole day to be our chauffeur. Severe debt of gratitude.

We're used to being a spectacle. People were openly gawking, laughing in delight, and asking us for rides. What you don't see: Me pushing Hank in the stroller laden with the rest of our gear.

Waiting for our flight

The very first thing we did. The very. First. Thing. Daph ended up coming in 15 minutes later crying with frozen red legs. Seriously. It took forever for them to stop being red and cold. Poor little skittle.

The next thing - COUSINS!!!!

On my way to Eagle Mountain to visit my sister

the Brave Little Toaster was willing to try it again.

I was eager to get to Chic-fil-a because one of the things I missed most while living in New York was the incredible customer service at places like this. 

Yes, mom was feeling indulgent.

And a BRAND NEW COUSIN!!!

Here we are

I realize it's been over a week - but let this be the official decree: WE MADE IT.

The McCrery Clan has landed in Utah.

Bill has started his new job, we have found a house to rent (we move in on the 22nd), and I got a whale of a head cold.

It's snowing. AGAIN! I love it, and the kids are obsessed.

My little niece Kaylee is beautiful, and I get to see her EVERY DAY since we live in the same house right now - which is a very nice contrast to seeing her NOT AT ALL EVEN ONCE while I was living on the other side of the continent.

The kids LOVE living at Grandma's house, again, and every time we leave to run daddy to work or to run an errand, they beg to go back.

Driving a car is weird.

And get this - I took the kids to Jiffy Lube to do the safety/emissions on the van, and they had FRUIT SNACKS and a little kid table and books and movies. I almost shed an actual tear, it was such a beautiful sight! It's nice to be in a place that makes room for kids.

Did I mention I have a horrible cold? It bowled me over yesterday evening, and now I'm a miserable sack of disgusting mush.

So.

I'm off to wallow.

Matty and Nicole

Yesterday while we were having our last 'meet-dad-for-lunch-during-his-work-break' meal at Schnippers (because Bill is done with Local Projects, NOT because we are done with Schnippers!), Bill's cousin Matty texted to see if we had plans for the evening.

Matty is a Long Island firefighter. So you have to say his name Mad-DEE!

We hadn't seen Matty, yet - and so we enthusiastically wondered if he and his lovely fiance' would venture the long trip to the tip of Manhattan for dessert and games and general cousin hanging outy-ness.

Dessert and games it was!

Lizzie is in town and staying with us for the holidays, and Meredith made herself available last minute on a Friday Night (thanks, girl!). We ordered burritos, played a new card game called "Maybe" (which I'll have to get the rules for, 'cause that's definitely one to bring home to my card-playing family), ate too much cake and ice cream and laughed harder than I have laughed in a good long while.

It was clensing.

At one point, it threatened to be a bit too clensing. Matty and Nicole are hilarious together, and matched with Lizzie's wit, it was nearly too much for me. There was one point when I had to really concentrate to keep from, you know, losing it.

(I've had three kids. Leave me alone.)

I had SO much fun with these cousins that weren't even mine until I married the coolest man ever. And get this - next week, Matty and Nicole are going to let us come hang with them on their island. Show us their favorite digs. Their new house. And...

...Matty just may have suggested a tour of his firehouse (where the commemoration banner for his winning a medal for saving a woman's life when he dragged her from her burning home still hangs on the walls, I'm told by his proud and doting fiance') which just might end with a ride in his rig.

That's right, folks.

A Long Island firefighter is taking us on a ride IN HIS FIRETRUCK.

Wyatt's head is going to explode.

And now I go to give my man a haircut. Happy Weekend, everyone!