Tupperware Party at My House

Since a few of you have asked how the Tupperware party went last night at my house, I'll give you my version of how it went down. 

I'm sure the Tupperware lady was horrified to learn that the amount of sales made at my house didn't really excite me much either way!  I told her, just like I've told everyone else, that I didn't have the party to make lots of sales, I just needed an excuse to have people over to my house.  Apparently I'm tired of not socializing.  Hey, stranger things have happened.

Before the Tupperware lady arrived, I had two guests; I wasn't even dressed in my party attire yet, which consisted of my infamous black and white Adidas track pants and a dirty t-shirt.  I pull out all the stops when it comes to entertaining! 

My darling sister-in-law was supposed to be here at 1630 to make her new dip recipe, but arrived after the first two guests and before the Tupperware lady.  She had my Mom with her, which totally made my day!

My niece was the next to arrive and I hardly recognized her!  I had seen her just a few days prior but then she was dressed in "work outside" clothing and now I think she may have been wearing makeup!  She's gorgeous!  Anyway, her husband sent her with strict orders to come home with MORE Tupperware!  Have you ever heard of a husband doing that?! 

From then until the end of the party, guests came and went.  Some stayed a while, some bounced in and bounced right out again.  Neighbors from down the street walked over; it was awesome!  I loved every minute of it. 

My two nieces were here with their girls, Kev's babysitter was here with her girls, and so on. 

No tale of a party would be complete without the menu, would it?  Snickerdoodles, Chocolate Snickerdoodles, and Chocolate Chip Cookies.  Made by yours truly, of course.  Interestingly enough, it was the Chocolate Chip Cookies that kept on disappearing, while enough remained of the others to bring to my son's today.  Those Chocolate Chip Cookies are always a hit, no matter how they look, no matter how crisp or chewy they are.  Every time I make them, they just disappear as if by magic.

I had planned on making Dad's Oatmeal Cookies, too, but sort of ran out of time in my day because the Snickerdoodles had an unfortunate mishap that required fixing in order to be edible.  They blended together in the pan into one large cookie, something I've never had a problem with before.  Rather than start all over, I used a heart-shaped cookie cutter and cut the dough into heart shapes.  They were still as delicious as only
Snickerdoodles can be, but they likely looked a little bit suspect to the guests. 

Luanna made a chip dip of refried beans, sour cream, guacomole, lettuce, and cheese.  It was absolutely divine! Its only downfall was that there were olives on it.  I accidentally ate one and thought I might die from the taste of it.  Yes, I'm exagerrating, but only a little.

All in all, the evening couldn't have been any better than the way it was as it was absolutely perfect. There will be more parties at my house in the near future.  Epicure, Pampered Chef, Passion Party, Norwex, etc. 

For those of you in the area, just come on down and join me. 

"How to Make a Living Without a Job"

This is a book I bought way back in December 2009, read it once, packed it for moving, and just read it again this week.  This book gives me hope that it is possible to be a SAHM for Kev sometime before he starts school.

As much as I love my chosen field of work, I have found something that I love even more than being at work, and that is being with my sunshine. 

Far from suggesting that people should all be born rich and not have to work, this book suggests that we all have our own talents and niches and that being our own bosses provides happiness in ways that working for corporations cannot. 

It also suggests that one can have multiple different ventures going on consecutively to provide variety.  Sounds like that idea might work for someone with ADD!

Usually its the activity in life that makes us feel the most alive that is the one that we could be financially successful at.  

I'm not quitting my job tomorrow, in case any of you are concerned about that.  Not nearly; I'm actually flat broke right now. No danger of me tapering down to casual employment until I've got some backup income coming in. 

Before that happens I need to brainstorm all the things that I enjoy doing, and then try to devise a way to make money from one of those activities.  Wow.  That's no small order. 

If any of you are "joyfully jobless" as the author refers to those who follow her advice, please tell me how you did it and what you do.

Clutter

It’s 2010, what could anyone possibly be doing with a 1991 Sears catalogue? Or three identical seminar textbooks from 1984? A two foot high stack of church periodicals? A bagful of mismatched gloves and mitts?

This particular home has long held an oppressive energy for me every time I walked through the front door, and now I know the reason. In every nook and cranny there are “treasures” from another era, piled haphazardly or stuffed into plastic bags, strung together by cobwebs put in place years ago..

This type of clutter makes me sad, because the person in question is very dear to me and I was not truly aware of the issue until yesterday.

The air in this residence is heavy and stale and somewhat musty. While doing some heavy duty cleaning yesterday, with several windows open and a fan on, I found mold on the walls and areas where moisture had made the drywall bow out in a convex fashion.

If its true that the state of one’s residence mirrors that of their mind, this is a very sad reflection; the owner of this home has dementia and has likely had it for longer than we suspect.

Taking matters into my own hands I entered her home and told her I was there to help her clean. “Oh?”

I emptied the contents of two closets onto the floor and witnessed her discomfort rise with each item that hit the floor. “I can’t give that away!” “I got that from someone special but I can’t remember who.” Many times I reassured her that I was going to put everything back when I had washed the walls and the floors of the closets; it was not my intention to throw out anything without her consent. Its possible I repeated these words ten or eleven times in the first hour alone.

As we progressed in our (it did become a team effort) sorting through of items, surprisingly many were thrown onto the thrift store pile. Every time she asked “What should I do with this?” I pointed to that pile. When she came across an item that needed to be kept, she didn’t ask. When she found something she wanted to share with her sons, she didn’t ask. Perhaps she needed permission to part with items or perhaps she needed direction, I don’t know which.

Nearing the end of my time there yesterday, I could sense her rising anxiety level, and cut my efforts somewhat short. Together we drove to the thrift store to empty my car of her donated belongings, and then to a recycling depot.

Through heated discussions on our drive I have begun to catch a glimpse of her bewilderment and sense of betrayal, perhaps even abandonment.

My heart truly goes out to her as she feels everyone in her world is against her. There are many negatives in her mind, and very little positive. The woman that was once there is merely a shadow, her essence having been replaced by the clutter in her mind.