The results are in! The homemade laundry detergent works beautifully! It took a small grease stain I had on my shirt out (with no pre-treating) and it got Mark's work clothes clean! And it smells good! So those of you that were wanting to know how it worked, I definitely recommend it! The only thing I might do differently is add more lavender essential oil...I like to smell it on my clothes.
Let me know if you try it, and tell me how it works out!
Friday, March 30, 2012
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Steve
The night I was cut from the FHS basketball team my senior year also happened to be the night that Mom went on her first date with Steve. From that point on, they were pretty much inseparable.
Mom had dated around a little bit before Steve, but never anyone seriously. She was enjoying herself, after having been separated from my dad for about two and a half years at that point. It was nice to see her doing things for herself.
I don't remember the first time I met Steve, but I'm sure we were all a little shy around him at first. I do remember that Kyle didn't really like him initially, but that really had nothing to do with Steve, and more with the fact that he didn't like Mom dating. :)
Steve was instantly part of our life. He had two girls of his own, Autumn and Lauren, but their mom pretty much kept them away, so we didn't see them as much as I'm sure Steve would have liked to. Steve is a big man. He's about 6'4" and 280 pounds, and good-looking. He has a loud voice, and a great laugh. He has the biggest heart of just about anyone I know, other than my mom, and he is big, gruff, teddy bear. Steve likes to read, play softball, sleep late, cook, hunt, fish, and spend time with his girls. He cusses like a sailor, and it's hilarious.
I took to him immediately, and so did Katie and Kacie. Katie and Kacie were six when my parents separated, and my dad had been sort-of in and out of our lives after that. He was sick a lot too, so we didn't get to see him much. So Steve was sort-of a father figure for my sisters. They were nine when Mom and Steve started dating, so they were still very young and hadn't seen much of my dad in three years.
Steve was so funny. He loved to do things with us and Mom. He took us fishing and camping, and four-wheeler riding. He was a fantastic cook and would make these awesome meals for us. He had this one meal, which he called River Gumbo, that I STILL think about, and I probably haven't eaten it in four years. He came to our sports events, sometimes took the twins to different practices, asked us about school and our grades, and just loved us. He didn't expect anything from us, just for us to be respectful of our mom.
Mom was truly herself around Steve. She didn't have to pretend, or do things differently. She could me moody, and Steve would just call her on it. They laughed a lot. Mom took up gardening again, after her and Steve started dating, and they even planted a vegetable garden for a few years on Burningtown.
Steve was with Mom when we found out our dad died. He hugged us, and told us he was sorry. I think he felt as helpless as my mom did. But he helped us through our grief. And what sticks out most in my mind, was that he was just there. There for us, no matter what we needed. I don't know how many men would do that.
Steve stuck with Mom through her cancer diagnosis, and helped with the kids and around the house. I was in college at that point, and so was Tommy, so that made things a little harder. Steve asked Mom to marry him Christmas 2008. They had been together four years at that point. He asked us all if that would be ok, and we said yes! Mom wanted a Fall wedding, and at that point, her cancer was in remission. They didn't get married in 2009, and shortly after Christmas, Mom's cancer came back. She died five weeks later.
I don't remember a lot about the day my mom died. It was so traumatic, and so crazy, that I just don't remember much of anything. But I do remember thinking, how are we going to tell Steve? We couldn't get a hold of him right when it happened. He was working somewhere where there wasn't good cell service, so it took us a couple of hours to get word to him. I just remember, after he finally got to Nanny's, we all went running up to him and hugged him. And he just kept saying, "I'm so sorry." He was crying, we were crying...it broke my heart to see him, thinking of what he just lost.
Steve stayed at Mom's with the kids until school was out in June, and they moved in with us. He didn't have to do that...he really had no obligation to us at that point. But he did. He stayed when he didn't have to. I will always be grateful for that.
Steve had a rough childhood. His dad did the best he could, but Steve had step-mother who was not nice to Steve or his brother. He joined the military, got married young (to a woman who is so evil, I couldn't ever imagine someone like Steve marrying her), divorced, and just had to deal with a lot of shit from him ex-wife. There's more to Steve's life than that, but I don't feel it's my place to divulge everything. Just take my word that Steve didn't have a lot of support growing up, or during his marriage.
When he found my mom, Steve changed. He became a better person. And so did my mom. They were good for each other. When Mom died, a little part of Steve died too. You can still tell now, even though it's been two years, and he has a new girlfriend. Steve just isn't back to his old self yet.
I'm writing this because I saw Steve today. We ran into each other at the grocery store. It's the first time I've seen him in two years. We hugged, and talked, and hugged again before we parted ways. He said "I still love you, Meg." And I told him I love him too. Because I do. He was a part of our lives for eight years. Eight years that he made my mom happy, and helped to take care of us.
Not many men would date a woman who had five kids. Not many men would go through all the crap that Steve has had to, and still be a good person. Not many men would continue to pursue seeing his kids after their ex-wife tried to poison them against him. Not many men would continue to love us when he didn't have to anymore. But Steve is not just any man. He is special, to me, and to all of us, and I am so thankful that he was, and is, part of our lives.
I hope Steve knows how much he means to me, and how much we miss him and love him. I also hope he knows that we are so thankful that he was with my mom, and made her happy. I love you Steve!
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Dad's Birthday
Today is my dad's birthday...or rather, would have been his birthday. He would be 48 years old today. My dad died almost 8 years ago, at the age of 40, from complications due to alcoholism. I miss my dad everyday. It's funny, how someone can be gone for so long, and yet they still cross your mind...like, I should call and tell him something, or buy that for him...things like that.
But I'm not writing this post for it to be sad. I am writing it to celebrate the person that my dad was. He was not perfect. But he was my dad. I worshiped him. When I was younger, I thought he was invincible and that nothing could stop him. He always seemed so tall to me. He was about 6'1", but he seemed taller. He was a physically fit person, for most of his life. He had a love for sports that I have never seen matched in anyone else.
People tell me, when he was in high school, that he was a fantastic athlete. He was a superstar football player, and a pretty good basketball player. That was still obvious when I was growing up. I think he became a teacher so he could be a coach. Although that is not necessarily a good reason to teach, he became an industrial arts teacher (think wood shop) and was very good at it. We often moved when I was growing up so that my dad could get a new or better job coaching football. He coached a lot of sports, basketball, baseball, softball. But football was his love. And his players loved him. I mean LOVED him. Like I did. We always had football players at our house. I particularly remember this in Florida, when I was in middle school and at an appropriate age to appreciate these boys in my house. It got awkward when I actually started high school, and those same boys, who I of course had crushes on, wouldn't treat me as anything but a little sister-type, because I was Coach Peck's daughter. (Which I must say, really sucked then) :)
My dad was a people person...and he was also a rule breaker. But people seemed to be okay with that. Dad had the sort of cockiness that appeals to people. He could disarm people with his charm and his smile (much like my brother Tommy, for those of you that know him). This opened a lot of doors for him.
My dad had a great sense of humor that could also be considered a little sick. He was good at memorizing jokes and he had a great laugh. His whole face would light up. To give you an example, my freshman year of high school, I took my dad's class. The entire class was boys, except for me, which I was perfectly happy with. A few weeks into the semester, a new kid was put into our class. He was an Hispanic immigrant, most likely from Mexico, and he spoke very little English. His name was Ricardo. When my dad would call roll, he would say "Retardo" and Ricardo would answer "Here." My dad literally did this every single day for the entire semester. And he cracked up about it, every single day. Ricardo, and most of the other students never really heard what he said. But me and one other guy, named Mike, did. And we would laugh too.
Many times, between classes, Dad would stand in the doorway of his classroom and pass gas. That way, when students entered, they would be "welcomed" with Eau de Peck. It was hilarious. Anytime he had an opportunity to play a trick on someone, he did. One time, we tied a dollar bill to a piece of fishing line in class, and laid it out in the hallway. Then we all crowded around the window in the door to watch as people walked by, and tried to pick up the dollar. Dad would jerk it just out of their reach. And they would reach for it two or three times before they realized someone was playing a trick on them. It was so funny when they would look up and see the whole class watching them! Dad got the biggest kick out of it, of anyone. We did that an entire class period one day.
Dad wanted all of us to play sports. Most of the memories I have with my dad involve sports in one way or another. He watched ESPN all the time, and I remember sitting on the couch listening to it for hours, sitting with him. He would get me, Tommy, and sometimes Kyle, when we lived in Durham, and we would play hot box. This was always so fun! Sometimes we would play two-on-two basketball in our driveway. My dad's friend, Mr. Holt, would be on my team, and Tommy on Dad's team. It was always a blast, but Dad would get mad if me and Mr. Holt beat them.
Exercise was important to Dad, so therefore, he made it important for us. He would make us ride our bikes sometimes, and have to make a loop and get back to the house within a certain time. He would throw us endless pop flies, and we had to catch them. If we caught it, we did 5 push-ups. If we missed, we did 10. He wasn't mean about it. He was just trying to teach us.
I could go on and on. I wish my younger siblings had more memories with our dad. That's something I feel sad about, that they didn't really know him. They don't have tons of stories and anecdotes that they experienced with him. I guess, really, you could argue I didn't know him either. But I have always felt a special connection to my dad, and I still feel it at times.
I don't know if he said it to my other siblings or not, but Dad always told me I was his favorite. And even if that's not completely true, I still carry that with me. He gave me a nickname when I was very small (in fact, I don't remember a time when I didn't have that nickname). It was Mugsy Bogz. Dad usually just called me Mugsy. No one, not even my mom, used that nickname for me...just Dad. And it's just as special to me now as it was then.
Every year, on Dad's birthday, and my anniversary, I reflect on him and all the craziness that surrounded him. Although he wasn't perfect, he always made me feel loved, and he gave me my sense of discipline, hard work, and humor.
One time, my Nanny (Mom's mom) told my Grandma (Dad's mom), that I "had too much of my daddy in me." I don't think she meant it that way, but I take that as a compliment. My dad was well-loved, a hard worker, outgoing, handsome, funny, and smart. So I hope I am like my Dad...I couldn't have asked for a better one.
But I'm not writing this post for it to be sad. I am writing it to celebrate the person that my dad was. He was not perfect. But he was my dad. I worshiped him. When I was younger, I thought he was invincible and that nothing could stop him. He always seemed so tall to me. He was about 6'1", but he seemed taller. He was a physically fit person, for most of his life. He had a love for sports that I have never seen matched in anyone else.
People tell me, when he was in high school, that he was a fantastic athlete. He was a superstar football player, and a pretty good basketball player. That was still obvious when I was growing up. I think he became a teacher so he could be a coach. Although that is not necessarily a good reason to teach, he became an industrial arts teacher (think wood shop) and was very good at it. We often moved when I was growing up so that my dad could get a new or better job coaching football. He coached a lot of sports, basketball, baseball, softball. But football was his love. And his players loved him. I mean LOVED him. Like I did. We always had football players at our house. I particularly remember this in Florida, when I was in middle school and at an appropriate age to appreciate these boys in my house. It got awkward when I actually started high school, and those same boys, who I of course had crushes on, wouldn't treat me as anything but a little sister-type, because I was Coach Peck's daughter. (Which I must say, really sucked then) :)
My dad was a people person...and he was also a rule breaker. But people seemed to be okay with that. Dad had the sort of cockiness that appeals to people. He could disarm people with his charm and his smile (much like my brother Tommy, for those of you that know him). This opened a lot of doors for him.
My dad had a great sense of humor that could also be considered a little sick. He was good at memorizing jokes and he had a great laugh. His whole face would light up. To give you an example, my freshman year of high school, I took my dad's class. The entire class was boys, except for me, which I was perfectly happy with. A few weeks into the semester, a new kid was put into our class. He was an Hispanic immigrant, most likely from Mexico, and he spoke very little English. His name was Ricardo. When my dad would call roll, he would say "Retardo" and Ricardo would answer "Here." My dad literally did this every single day for the entire semester. And he cracked up about it, every single day. Ricardo, and most of the other students never really heard what he said. But me and one other guy, named Mike, did. And we would laugh too.
Many times, between classes, Dad would stand in the doorway of his classroom and pass gas. That way, when students entered, they would be "welcomed" with Eau de Peck. It was hilarious. Anytime he had an opportunity to play a trick on someone, he did. One time, we tied a dollar bill to a piece of fishing line in class, and laid it out in the hallway. Then we all crowded around the window in the door to watch as people walked by, and tried to pick up the dollar. Dad would jerk it just out of their reach. And they would reach for it two or three times before they realized someone was playing a trick on them. It was so funny when they would look up and see the whole class watching them! Dad got the biggest kick out of it, of anyone. We did that an entire class period one day.
Dad wanted all of us to play sports. Most of the memories I have with my dad involve sports in one way or another. He watched ESPN all the time, and I remember sitting on the couch listening to it for hours, sitting with him. He would get me, Tommy, and sometimes Kyle, when we lived in Durham, and we would play hot box. This was always so fun! Sometimes we would play two-on-two basketball in our driveway. My dad's friend, Mr. Holt, would be on my team, and Tommy on Dad's team. It was always a blast, but Dad would get mad if me and Mr. Holt beat them.
Exercise was important to Dad, so therefore, he made it important for us. He would make us ride our bikes sometimes, and have to make a loop and get back to the house within a certain time. He would throw us endless pop flies, and we had to catch them. If we caught it, we did 5 push-ups. If we missed, we did 10. He wasn't mean about it. He was just trying to teach us.
I could go on and on. I wish my younger siblings had more memories with our dad. That's something I feel sad about, that they didn't really know him. They don't have tons of stories and anecdotes that they experienced with him. I guess, really, you could argue I didn't know him either. But I have always felt a special connection to my dad, and I still feel it at times.
I don't know if he said it to my other siblings or not, but Dad always told me I was his favorite. And even if that's not completely true, I still carry that with me. He gave me a nickname when I was very small (in fact, I don't remember a time when I didn't have that nickname). It was Mugsy Bogz. Dad usually just called me Mugsy. No one, not even my mom, used that nickname for me...just Dad. And it's just as special to me now as it was then.
Every year, on Dad's birthday, and my anniversary, I reflect on him and all the craziness that surrounded him. Although he wasn't perfect, he always made me feel loved, and he gave me my sense of discipline, hard work, and humor.
One time, my Nanny (Mom's mom) told my Grandma (Dad's mom), that I "had too much of my daddy in me." I don't think she meant it that way, but I take that as a compliment. My dad was well-loved, a hard worker, outgoing, handsome, funny, and smart. So I hope I am like my Dad...I couldn't have asked for a better one.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
My Students, On an Average Day
I love, love, love my job. I love teaching high school history. At the school I am at now (which I LOVE!), I mostly teach ninth and tenth graders, and the occasional eleventh grader. My freshmen are always fun and tend to love my classes. My sophomores tend to get lazy and a little apathetic (and I promise, that's not just at my school), but by the time they are eleventh graders, they turn into great kids again.
But being a high school teacher, I hear a lot of things everyday that most people probably would never hear in their lifetime. So I thought I would compose a list of things that I hear on a daily basis, for your enjoyment. Some are funny, some are crude, and some are just downright weird. But if you want to know what is going on with the newest generation of high school students, this is your place!
"When I focus, I breath loud."
I will try to periodically update these "quotes." One thing is for sure, there is never a dull moment with high schoolers!
But being a high school teacher, I hear a lot of things everyday that most people probably would never hear in their lifetime. So I thought I would compose a list of things that I hear on a daily basis, for your enjoyment. Some are funny, some are crude, and some are just downright weird. But if you want to know what is going on with the newest generation of high school students, this is your place!
"When I focus, I breath loud."
"What, are you a two cent whore?"
"Dylan, shut up."
"Oh, by the way, me and my hamsters? We’re bros."
"I'm gonna be a complete nerd and say that the light saber cut Darth in half."
"I hate you."
"The tribe has spoken."
"I plead the 5th."
"Dylan, I said shut up!"
"I think God gave me bad handwriting for a reason." "Why?" "One, God didn't want me to write. Two, I'm supposed to be a doctor to write prescriptions."
"You are making me feel stupid. I'm getting out of here."
"What happened to the super Congress?"
"When anyone in my family gets married, we give them a lamp."
"DYLAN! SHUT UP!"
::in a silly, high-pitched voice:: "The British are coming! The British are coming!"
"My battery died." "That's what she said."
"Actually, true story. Gatlinburg is where 'Gatlin' came from."
"I have 57 kids. What do you expect?"
"I'm going to walk over there very slowly."
"Helium is not flammable."
"Isaac, there is no good way to tell a girl her face looks like meatloaf."
"Did you take your medicine today?"
"Isaac, there is no good way to tell a girl her face looks like meatloaf."
"Did you take your medicine today?"
I will try to periodically update these "quotes." One thing is for sure, there is never a dull moment with high schoolers!
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Conquering the Polar Bear
Almost all of my close friends around here either have kids, have one on the way, or are trying to have kids. My two closest friends currently have five kids between them. Beth has three girls, Emily, Nebraska, and Norah (who are twins), and Lacy has two boys, Rowdy and Gradynn. Lacy and Beth are sisters-in-law...Beth is married to Lacy's brother Billy, and Lacy's husband's name is Greg.
We spend a LOT of time with them, and I love them and their kids dearly. They are some of my favorite people in the world! We never fail to have fun...especially when we can shoo the men away to go outside or over to Mark's shop, if we are at our house.
Emily and Rowdy were born within 8 days of each other, and are currently 2 years old. These are two of the funniest kids I have ever met, and they both have enough personality to fill an entire house. The stuff that comes out of their mouths absolutely cracks me up. I'm sure once their siblings are old enough to talk (Nebraska and Norah are right at 3 months old, and Gradynn is about a little over a month old), we will never get a word in edgewise!
This past Thursday, I invited the whole gang over for dinner. Rowdy and Emily were wound up and acting like their crazy, silly, little selves. I love it! After dinner, they were getting a little bored, so I got some toilet paper rolls I had been saving for another lady, and gave them to Emily and Rowdy to use as binoculars (which they proceeded to call either "oculars" or "oggles"). I asked them what they saw and Rowdy looks down my hallway and exclaimes "I see a polar bear!" Where he got that, I have no idea, but it was hilarious. He then says, "He's gonna eat me!" At this point, Emily comes running at me with a complete look of terror on her face. She was scared to death of that imaginary polar bear! Rowdy yells again and says he is coming closer. I told them we would have to scare it away!
Emily did not like this idea, so I picked her up and walked over to where Rowdy was standing, looking at the "polar bear." I looked at Rowdy and said, "We have to roar at him to scare him away!" I then proceeded to demonstrate the roar. It was loud and filled with hand gestures. Rowdy proceeded to copy me in my roar. I wanted Emily to do it, so that she would no longer be scared of the polar bear. After Rowdy and I roared a few times, I told Emily to do it. She took a HUGE breath and roared so loud I think it shook the kitchen cabinets. I was impressed! I then proclaimed, "We did it! We scared away the polar bear! Yayyyyy!" Not only had we scared the polar bear, but Emily had overcome her fear!
In my naivety, I thought the game was going to be over. We had effectively scared away the polar bear. (If you know 2 year olds, you are laughing at me right now, because you know that it's not over) I had just sat back down in the chair when Rowdy yelled, "The polar bear's back!" ::groan:: And of course, they can't scare it away without Meghan! So I go back over there, and we roar again....and again. When Rowdy said the polar bear was back for a third time, I said, "Let's shoot it!" So we break out our thumb-and-pointer-finger-guns and proceed to shoot the polar bear about 20 times. "Woohoo!" I yelled, "We killed it! No more polar bear!" I sat down again, and Rowdy and Emily yell, "It's back, it's back!" Curse that darn polar bear. Why can't it just die? So we shoot it again...and again...and again. Are imaginary polar bears like cats? Do they have nine lives? Apparently, they do.
Thus, our game continued until Billy walked in. I said to Emily, "Tell Daddy about the polar bear!" And so Billy had to scare the polar bear, then shoot the polar bear, and I was relieved of my polar bear fighting duties. Whew!
There is never a dull moment with those two! And I am amazed that, as little as they are, how smart and creative they can be. I didn't know 2 year-olds could make up imaginary polar bears and play for an hour on something they completely made up. It really is amazing to me!
Shortly after our polar bear game, I was nominated to the be a "horsey", so Emily and Rowdy could ride...I'm sure you can imagine how that went!
We spend a LOT of time with them, and I love them and their kids dearly. They are some of my favorite people in the world! We never fail to have fun...especially when we can shoo the men away to go outside or over to Mark's shop, if we are at our house.
Emily and Rowdy were born within 8 days of each other, and are currently 2 years old. These are two of the funniest kids I have ever met, and they both have enough personality to fill an entire house. The stuff that comes out of their mouths absolutely cracks me up. I'm sure once their siblings are old enough to talk (Nebraska and Norah are right at 3 months old, and Gradynn is about a little over a month old), we will never get a word in edgewise!
This past Thursday, I invited the whole gang over for dinner. Rowdy and Emily were wound up and acting like their crazy, silly, little selves. I love it! After dinner, they were getting a little bored, so I got some toilet paper rolls I had been saving for another lady, and gave them to Emily and Rowdy to use as binoculars (which they proceeded to call either "oculars" or "oggles"). I asked them what they saw and Rowdy looks down my hallway and exclaimes "I see a polar bear!" Where he got that, I have no idea, but it was hilarious. He then says, "He's gonna eat me!" At this point, Emily comes running at me with a complete look of terror on her face. She was scared to death of that imaginary polar bear! Rowdy yells again and says he is coming closer. I told them we would have to scare it away!
Emily did not like this idea, so I picked her up and walked over to where Rowdy was standing, looking at the "polar bear." I looked at Rowdy and said, "We have to roar at him to scare him away!" I then proceeded to demonstrate the roar. It was loud and filled with hand gestures. Rowdy proceeded to copy me in my roar. I wanted Emily to do it, so that she would no longer be scared of the polar bear. After Rowdy and I roared a few times, I told Emily to do it. She took a HUGE breath and roared so loud I think it shook the kitchen cabinets. I was impressed! I then proclaimed, "We did it! We scared away the polar bear! Yayyyyy!" Not only had we scared the polar bear, but Emily had overcome her fear!
In my naivety, I thought the game was going to be over. We had effectively scared away the polar bear. (If you know 2 year olds, you are laughing at me right now, because you know that it's not over) I had just sat back down in the chair when Rowdy yelled, "The polar bear's back!" ::groan:: And of course, they can't scare it away without Meghan! So I go back over there, and we roar again....and again. When Rowdy said the polar bear was back for a third time, I said, "Let's shoot it!" So we break out our thumb-and-pointer-finger-guns and proceed to shoot the polar bear about 20 times. "Woohoo!" I yelled, "We killed it! No more polar bear!" I sat down again, and Rowdy and Emily yell, "It's back, it's back!" Curse that darn polar bear. Why can't it just die? So we shoot it again...and again...and again. Are imaginary polar bears like cats? Do they have nine lives? Apparently, they do.
Thus, our game continued until Billy walked in. I said to Emily, "Tell Daddy about the polar bear!" And so Billy had to scare the polar bear, then shoot the polar bear, and I was relieved of my polar bear fighting duties. Whew!
There is never a dull moment with those two! And I am amazed that, as little as they are, how smart and creative they can be. I didn't know 2 year-olds could make up imaginary polar bears and play for an hour on something they completely made up. It really is amazing to me!
Shortly after our polar bear game, I was nominated to the be a "horsey", so Emily and Rowdy could ride...I'm sure you can imagine how that went!
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Laundry
I am on a mission to save money (heck, who isn't?). I tried the whole coupon-ing thing, and while I admire those who can do it, I don't have the time to follow through with it. I have tried waiting for sales at the grocery store, or Wal-Mart. I have tried buying in bulk at the Super Wal-Mart or the Super Ingles in Clayton. And while those things do help, I am still not seeing the savings I want.
A few weeks ago, while I was trolling on Pinterest (which I do almost every free second of every day), I found this idea of making your own laundry detergent. This is something I have heard of before, thanks to the Duggar Family (yes, I watch their show), but I never thought about doing it myself. So I did some research online about homemade laundry detergent, and found that it is compatible with front loading washers. After all my research, most of the detergent recipes were similar, so I decided to stick with the Duggar's recipe. I figured, if they can wash 21 people's laundry with it, and keep their clothes clean, I can do it for my family!
Part of my reasoning for doing this is I want to save money on things I don't like to spend money on. I mean, a thing of Tide High Efficiency Detergent is $20. I go through one of those about every month (sometimes more often, depending). So, I'm spending over $240 a year on name-brand detergent. Silly!
I went and purchased all the things necessary to make it. In total, it cost me a little over $8 to buy all the ingredients. EIGHT DOLLARS! And this recipe will do 680 loads of laundry. If I do one load a day, this detergent will last me almost TWO YEARS!
I haven't tried it yet, so I will keep you updated on it. I should run out of my last bottle of Tide in about two days. We'll see how it goes!
Now, if only I could find an easier way to actually FOLD my laundry!
The Duggar family recipe is here http://www.duggarfamily.com/content/duggar_recipes/30455/Homemade%20Liquid%20Laundry%20Soap-%20Front%20or%20top%20load%20machine-%20best%20value.
A few weeks ago, while I was trolling on Pinterest (which I do almost every free second of every day), I found this idea of making your own laundry detergent. This is something I have heard of before, thanks to the Duggar Family (yes, I watch their show), but I never thought about doing it myself. So I did some research online about homemade laundry detergent, and found that it is compatible with front loading washers. After all my research, most of the detergent recipes were similar, so I decided to stick with the Duggar's recipe. I figured, if they can wash 21 people's laundry with it, and keep their clothes clean, I can do it for my family!
Part of my reasoning for doing this is I want to save money on things I don't like to spend money on. I mean, a thing of Tide High Efficiency Detergent is $20. I go through one of those about every month (sometimes more often, depending). So, I'm spending over $240 a year on name-brand detergent. Silly!
I went and purchased all the things necessary to make it. In total, it cost me a little over $8 to buy all the ingredients. EIGHT DOLLARS! And this recipe will do 680 loads of laundry. If I do one load a day, this detergent will last me almost TWO YEARS!
I haven't tried it yet, so I will keep you updated on it. I should run out of my last bottle of Tide in about two days. We'll see how it goes!
Now, if only I could find an easier way to actually FOLD my laundry!
The Duggar family recipe is here http://www.duggarfamily.com/content/duggar_recipes/30455/Homemade%20Liquid%20Laundry%20Soap-%20Front%20or%20top%20load%20machine-%20best%20value.
So, the other day...
"So, the other day" is something I say a lot. For those of you that were lucky enough to be raised Southern, you know what it means. Or at least, you know the context it could be said in. When I say "So, the other day," it can mean yesterday, last week, last month, or last year. Usually, if I start a story out with "So the other day" it means I can't really remember when something happened, just that it happened.
To give this story a little context, I guess I should tell you about our house. We bought this house two years ago, shortly after we got married. We got a fantastic deal on it, but with that fantastic deal came fantastic amounts of "fixer-upping" that needs to be done. So we've been plugging away on trying to turn our little house into a decent-looking home. It's nothing fancy, just a little country house on about two acres of land.
So, the other day, my brother Kyle and I were talking about the upcoming renovation of mine and Mark's kitchen. I was talking to him about what was going to change, including the back splash, flooring, and counter tops. We were talking about the exorbitant costs of granite counter tops. (That's what Mark and I really want, but that's not what Mark and I can afford. Plus, we figure, we're not going to live in this house forever, so we don't want to spend thousands of dollars on something temporary. We just want to make it look better).
I was showing Kyle this laminate counter top that we found that looks almost exactly like the granite that we wanted. And Kyle said, "Just go with the fox granite. It won't matter in a few years anyways." I immediately start cracking up because I thought he said fox on purpose, instead of saying faux. Then Kyle says, "Oh wait, I mean faux, not fox." And I said, "I thought you meant to say that on purpose!" And he looks at me and was like, "No, that was just my own stupidity." Then we really start cracking up.
Kyle does this to words a lot. Which is part of my this is so funny. My brother and I have the exact same sense of silly humor, and does my younger sister Katie. We laugh at stupid stuff. And this is just one example of that. I'm sure there will be many more!
To give this story a little context, I guess I should tell you about our house. We bought this house two years ago, shortly after we got married. We got a fantastic deal on it, but with that fantastic deal came fantastic amounts of "fixer-upping" that needs to be done. So we've been plugging away on trying to turn our little house into a decent-looking home. It's nothing fancy, just a little country house on about two acres of land.
So, the other day, my brother Kyle and I were talking about the upcoming renovation of mine and Mark's kitchen. I was talking to him about what was going to change, including the back splash, flooring, and counter tops. We were talking about the exorbitant costs of granite counter tops. (That's what Mark and I really want, but that's not what Mark and I can afford. Plus, we figure, we're not going to live in this house forever, so we don't want to spend thousands of dollars on something temporary. We just want to make it look better).
I was showing Kyle this laminate counter top that we found that looks almost exactly like the granite that we wanted. And Kyle said, "Just go with the fox granite. It won't matter in a few years anyways." I immediately start cracking up because I thought he said fox on purpose, instead of saying faux. Then Kyle says, "Oh wait, I mean faux, not fox." And I said, "I thought you meant to say that on purpose!" And he looks at me and was like, "No, that was just my own stupidity." Then we really start cracking up.
Kyle does this to words a lot. Which is part of my this is so funny. My brother and I have the exact same sense of silly humor, and does my younger sister Katie. We laugh at stupid stuff. And this is just one example of that. I'm sure there will be many more!
Here it is!
For quite some time, I have been wanting to create a blog. Mostly for your typical reasons...it's a way to preserve little memories that we can go back to over and over. A way to catalog my life. I love to write and I haven't written much in a long time. I guess, in a way, a blog is sort-of selfish. It allows me to write down any thought that crosses my mind, or any event that occurs in my life. But I want to do this because I think people should have a glimpse of my family life. They will make you laugh, and cry...and think. They challenge me every day. So I hope they do the same for you.
But mainly, I created this blog to reach out to others. As this blog progresses, I'm sure my story will unfold. I've been through a lot, but I also have gotten through it. And I hope that can help other people!
So wish me luck as I start this blog! I'm excited and I hope you enjoy it!
But mainly, I created this blog to reach out to others. As this blog progresses, I'm sure my story will unfold. I've been through a lot, but I also have gotten through it. And I hope that can help other people!
So wish me luck as I start this blog! I'm excited and I hope you enjoy it!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)