Things have been all aflurry (yes, I totally just made that word up) at our house as of late. On those busy weeknights when we need a quick dinner but don’t want to (would not ever, in fact) resort to the drive-thru of a fast food restaurant, we opt for sandwiches. This is my go-to recipe for a tasty, wholesome loaf of bread with a ton of flavor. Most recently, we opted for spinach artichoke grilled cheese sandwiches and they were divine. The fact that this is a bread machine recipe makes it all the simpler to make. Enjoy!
Combine cottage cheese, water and butter in small saucepan and heat until just warm (120 degrees). Once warm, add mixture to bread machine pan.
Add remaining ingredients to bread machine pan in order listed, being careful to sprinkle sugar around perimeter of bread machine pan on top of flour. Prior to adding yeast, form a shallow well in the center of the flour (but don't go all the way down to liquid) and pour yeast into the well.
Program your bread machine for the dough setting and start it.
Once the dough is complete, remove from the bread pan and shape into a loaf. Place in a well-greased loaf pan. Place it in a warm, dark place and allow it to rise for an hour. Tip: I allow my dough to rise in a closed oven with a bowl of hot water.
Brush top of loaf with egg white and sprinkle with sea salt.
Bake at 350 for twenty-five minutes or until golden brown.
For the past six weeks, Jeff and I have been super busy with a major redecorating project. Normally, redecorating projects fall squarely on my shoulders, but this one required at least three major building components and so I recruited help from my handsome husband. I am doing a big unveil of the new spaces within the next few days, but today, I wanted to give you a sneak peek at my new dining room shelves and offer a really great giveaway.
Two months ago, my formal dining room looked like this.
When we first moved in nearly eight years ago, I was all about the Tuscan and I felt as though this design accomplished that look. But my tastes have changed a bit over the years and I felt it was high time to update and refresh. You’ll notice the potted plant sitting on the ledge there. That new pot was the very first purchase I made when I decided to redecorate the space; it provided inspiration in the way of color.
Today, my dining room looks like this.
Those fabulous floating shelves were one of Jeff’s building tasks. And while I wish I could say that they were simple as could be, those stinkin’ shelves were most definitely some trouble for us. In the end they turned out beautifully, so we won’t focus on what happened in the meantime. I will say, though, that styling them is driving me nutty because I really want to do their beauty and functionality justice. This picture was taken on Sunday morning and already I’ve changed the accents I’ve placed. I’ve no doubt that I’ll continue to change it until I get it just right. One piece that I know is staying put is my Micah print from Red Letter Words. Isn’t it just lovely?
Red Letter Words offered me a print for review purposes and let me tell you that I had trouble narrowing it down to just which one I wanted. Dee Kasberger, the artist and designer behind Red Letter Words, has a virtual storefront filled to the brim with gorgeous art prints that are every bit as beautiful as they are inspirational. Available in a wide variety of colors, Red Letter Words offers prints with scripture, song lyrics and other uplifting sentiments. You can even order a custom print for something totally unique.
I chose the Micah verse because I think it so perfectly and succinctly stated. Beyond the words, though, the print itself is a quality piece. It’s printed on a sturdy, heavyweight canvas. The color is vivid so that the white letters don’t get lost on it. The “texture” gives the piece character and depth. Truly, I love it.
Red Letter Words has graciously offered to give a 12×12 canvas print to one of my readers. You may choose from any of her designs; custom prints are not included in this giveaway. Should you win, I just know that you’re going to have as much trouble as I did choosing which one you want!
To enter: leave a comment telling me which print you’d choose if you won and why. I will choose one lucky winner on Friday, May 24th. Good luck! For the rest of you, Red Letter Words is offering a 20% discount if you use the code spot20.
I have officially begun the countdown to the last day of school. Because it means the end of my having to come up with creative packed lunches every. day. of. the. week. I think I quite possibly look forward to the end of the school year more than the kids do. But with the end of the year comes the time to show appreciation for those who’ve helped make our school year a success. For our family, that includes bus drivers. I thought I’d share one idea for a cute and inexpensive way to express gratitude for the drivers who ensure a safe trip to and from school each day.
It’s as simple as buying an insulated cup and a $5 (or more) Jamba Juice gift card. Slap this handy dandy bus driver appreciation gift printable on the cup you’re as good as done. Easy peasy, right? Enjoy!
If you ask her what I most remember from my childhood, she might tell you it was that I grew up on Lucky Charms and Taco Bell. Or that I mostly made due with Levi’s when Guess was plastered across my wishlist. These are the zingers I tease with. But buried layers beneath are the tender truths of how I came to be.
Ours was a family woven tight with threads of belonging. Like wagons on a pioneering prairie we circled, room for each. No gaps.
Put to music, our chorus would ring: one of us.
Not once did I doubt my place. I never wondered if I was loved. If I was enough.
I always was, in spite.
Forced to choose but one as most prized of the gifts she gave me, most assuredly I’d choose roots.
She gave me the gift of knowing who I am. Where I come from. A place I am always welcome to go home to.
And if anything has shaped who I became, it was who I started as.
I borrow Cassie’s words, Mom, when I thank you for growing me. Love you.
You see that buff chick in the jeans and brown tank top? I am woman. Hear me roar.
Ever since Torri’s car died a slow and miserable death last week, she’s served as a bad luck charm for the friends willing and able to chauffeur her to and fro. After school yesterday, one of her work friends volunteered to drive her home. She got in the passenger seat and he turned the key in the ignition and …nothing. Nada. It wasn’t happening. He ended up having to call his dad for a ride. And then this morning, as Torri awaited her ride to school, she answered the phone only to listen as her bff, Jenna, blurted that she was stuck at the gate (to our neighborhood). She had paused there to punch in the gate code when her car died. And refused to come back.
Jenna accepted our offer to help push the car to our house as a short-term solution, so off went Torri, Jayce and I. We found Jenna right where she said she’d be and sure enough, the car was stalled. Between Jenna’s two able-bodied (female) passengers, and Torri and me, we were able to fairly easily get her little Chevy aveo a rollin’, but only once I answered affirmatively when Jenna asked if she should take off the emergency brake. As an aside: Jenna is a dear, sweet little heart, but she’s every bit as blonde as Torri.
I assumed a pushing position at the passenger side door so that I could offer assistance as Jenna steered toward our house. We were on a (slow) roll, but then Jenna’s steering wheel locked up and she didn’t know why.
“Put your key in the ignition,” I told her, through panted breaths as we heaved the car inches forward. She did. In fact, she turned the key and the car purred to life, only for a second before sputtering right out again. “It sounds like it might be out of gas, Jenna. Do you have gas?”
“Oh yeah,” she cheerily answers, pointing at the gauge in her dash, “it is out of gas.”
In any case, we got the steering wheel unlocked. And we were ready to roll again.
At about this point the gate was quickly swinging closed. “Stop!” I said, to the pushers behind. “Torri, go back and punch the gate code in again.” She did so and the gate went obediently swinging open again. We pushers resumed our pushing, but suddenly the car fought back something fierce. “One, two, three,” I ralleyed. The pushers heaved in response but still, the car wouldn’t budge so much as a fraction of an inch. “Are the wheels up against the curb?” I asked, thinking maybe Jenna had steered us straight into the curb where the gate keypad is housed.
“No,” Jenna answered, puzzled.
“Did you put the emergency brake back on?” I asked.
“No,” she answered.
“And you don’t have your foot on the brake, right?”
“Oh,” she came back, sheepish. “Oops.”
Blonde. I told you.
“Let’s try this again,” I said. “One. Two. Three…” And the car eased forward. We made it through the gate without trouble. It was only a minute before some guy in a passing minivan yelled out an offer to help. I couldn’t help but smirk on the inside as we thanked him and passed. Girl power. We got this.
Luckily, we live downhill from the gate. As we approached the slope, I offered Jenna instructions through seriously gasping breaths. “We’re going to let … go at the … hill. When you get to our… turn …. take it, and let the car … roll as far up as it will …. go. Then put the brake on… before the car …. rolls backwards… Got it?”
After the incidents with the gas and the steering wheel and the foot on the brake I figured it was best to err on the side of over explanation. “Got it!” she answered.
We approached the hill and let her rip. We were too winded to run behind so by the time we made it ’round the corner I was pleased as punch to see that indeed Jenna understood my directions. We only had a little further to go–uphill unfortunately. But even just us girls managed that and gratefully dismissed the painter guys who were working at the neighbor’s house when they offered help. I’m telling you: girl power. We got this.
And we did.
*Torri is taking part in the one second project, in which she takes a one second video every day for a year and then combines them in the end for one whirlwind six-minute movie of her life. This was today’s one second {only it was actually three}.
I'm Darcie. I was a teen mom long before MTV made it the next big thing. In the 18 years that have passed since, I've gone on to build a life bold and beautiful here in Tucson, Arizona. Along the way, I bagged myself a rocket scientist hottie husband and penned a couple of books. In addition to being a minivan chauffeur, cupcakeaholic and wine sipper, I like to think of myself as a rebel with a lifestyle blog; my posts reflect on the ups and downs of life as a mother to four, including one daughter who rocks three 21st chromosomes (or has Down syndrome, in layman’s terms). My passions include handcrafted food, inspired travel and back-to-basics living. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance.
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