Testerone in the Garage, Estrogen in the Volkswagen

I have heard men complain about living in a house full of women, (meaning a wife and

one or more daughters), like its one drama event after another or he easily gets

overruled by the females in the house. Well I'm here to tell you that living in a house full

of men is no walk in the park either. Whether you're up against estrogen or testosterone,

you're sure to be in for a fight at one time or another when they decide to gang up on

you. Take for example what was referred to as "that goofy Bug" less than a year ago.

What was dorky at one time quickly gained popularity in my house of guys. My husband

has spent the better part of this winter restoring our 79 Super Beetle. Since it is

supposed to be my car, I felt I had somewhat of a say in how the restoration would

occur and what the end product would look like. It started out being pretty cut and dry to

me. The car would be the original color, keeping it as much original as would be

possible. My husband was good about respecting my wishes since, again, it is my car.

Enter my two teenage sons. What started as a pretty straight forward hands-off

restoration became me with bloody knuckles, hanging on to my classic car for dear life. I

should have picked up on the fact that I might be in for a bit of a challenge when, before

the car even went to paint, the stick shift handle had been replaced with a 8 ball. My first

battle was for the fenders. I noticed on Facebook that my older son had posted a picture

of it without the fenders taking a vote on wether or not it should become a "Baja Buggy."

When the fenders were put back on I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I went out in the

garage to find a race car style steering wheel where my classic VW steering wheel had

once been. This was after Tom and Sammy had outfitted it with a stereo and speakers

that could rock out a Hummer. The only reason there isn't an amp and subwoofer is

because the electrical system wouldn't support them (and don't ask me what those

things are, because I really don't have any idea). Most recently Sammy informed me

that he would be driving it as much as possible this summer. Um...I don't think so. Tom

assured me that its still girly, just with a few male touches. And I guess I can put up with

all of the testosterone filling the garage because I know how happy it makes them. So

when the snow melts and I'm on my way down the road in my awesome VW convertible

I'll say my usual morning prayers, thanking God for my wonderful boys.

The finished product: My fully restored '79 Super Beetle

Catching Up!

Wow, Where has the winter gone? I didn't realize that I had gotten so far behind! Here are my January and February columns. I'll post March as soon as it gets published in the local paper. Enjoy!

The Lost Cooking Lesson

This is my first attempt at Mom Hovie's Pasties. It almost looks like I know what I'm doing!

I think that a big fear that people have when they lose someone they love is that as time passes that the memories will begin to fade. About two and a half years ago we lost my mother-in-law to cancer. She had a short battle from the time we found out until she passed. I was lucky in that I had a really good relationship with her. Not a lot of daughters-in-law are quite so fortunate, I’m told. She was a very giving person and we became great friends in the 18 years I knew her. I think about her all the time whether it’s when I’m lying on the couch with my head on one of the throw pillows she made, or if I’m putting on one of the many coats or sweaters she had given me over the years. I have so many wonderful memories of my time with her and I cherish them all. My mother-in-law was an outstanding cook and my only regret is that I was never able to have her teach me how to make pasties. If you don’t know what pasties are, they are a Cornish meat pie that can actually be held, sort of like a Stromboli. Pasties became popular in the UP because the Finnish loggers would take them into the woods for their lunch. Being both Cornish and Finnish, my mother-in-law was a great pasty maker. She would bring us pasties that were ½ the size of dinner plates. Tom and I would split one for dinner and freeze the rest. I can still see her coming in the door with an armful of foil-wrapped pasties, ready for the freezer because she only made them once or twice a year and wanted to make sure we always had some on hand. I buy pasties from time to time from Glen’s or Oleson’s and I even tried to make some from a recipe I got in Munising last summer. Tom and I just looked at each other as we ate them because they weren’t even close to hers. I thought that was the end of it. Then I was going through my recipe box and found an old yellowed note card that said “Mom Hovie’s Pasties.” I had completely forgotten that she had given me the recipe! Tom and I were excited when I showed him that we were going to be able to reproduce his mom’s pasties. We got the ingredients and I felt like she was there with me as I carefully pinched the dough of each one, giving me one more thing to add to my cherished memories and reminding me that the pain of losing a loved one is eased by those memories (recipes) that they leave behind.

Time to Relax

I am one of those people who always has a lot on my plate. I can easily become overwhelmed if I am not careful. For the past two years I have been working towards earning my Master’s Degree through online courses. If you have ever completed any type of online class or program, you know how much time these classes can consume because they require an incredible amount of writing, not to mention all of the reading that goes along with post-graduate coursework. Spending 2-3 hours a night and 6-7 hours on the weekends doing classwork had severely cut down the amount of time I had to take care of my responsibilities as a working wife and mother. I figured out a way to make it all work, but what I couldn’t fit in was my crafting time. I would plan projects in my head and sometimes even go buy the stuff to make these projects, hoping that I would get to them in the short time between semesters. Last year I learned to crochet beanie hats and could whip those out in a couple of hours, but once classes started up again, they would be put to the side. Fast forward to December of 2012: graduation. Although I won’t participate in commencement until May, I was finished with my classes and could join most of my colleagues as a holder of a Master’s Degree. When I finished I found myself confronted with all of those projects, not only the ones I had bought stuff for, but new ones that were found on You Tube or Pinterest. In my desire to dive right into my passion for creating, I was a bit overwhelmed with the multitude of projects that lay before me. What would I do first? Knit socks? Learn to crochet Granny Square scarves? Sew new patchwork Christmas stockings? Make jewelry? I am also seriously behind in my scrapbooking and my card collection is sparse at best. I really never imagined that something that I found so enjoyable could be so stressful. I tend to think chronologically, so I decided that since I have been collecting sock yarn the longest that I would start with knitting a pair of socks. When I get tired of knitting, I head downstairs and make some jewelry or work on a sewing project. My challenge is to not let something that I enjoy so much become something that is a chore. I also don’t want to be that person who has 6000 started projects, but nothing finished. And most importantly, I really shouldn’t take on anything new until I have tackled some of these projects. Although quilting looks like it might be fun.