The Dinner Exchange

    I don't want to throw around the word genius, but I am pretty sure that I am one.  The problem is getting others to buy into my genius.  What am I talking about?  So yesterday I was talking about making my own natural cleaners.  As usual I got off on one of my tangents about wanting to make meals from scratch, but not having time.  I realize that it sounds insane to say that as a stay at home mother I'm never at home, but unfortunately it's the truth.  I am always at the kid's school, or driving the kids to appointments, or who knows what.  By the time it's nearly time for dinner I'm either exhausted, or I have run out of time to make dinner.  I end up making hot dogs and a veggie tray and feeling guilty.
    At Christmas every year, thousands of women participate in cookie exchanges.  Why?  Because it saves them time making a lot of one kind of cookie and then just swapping with other cookies.  Usually these exchanges involve a get together of some sort.  At the end of the night those women made 5 dozen of the same cookie, but leave with 5 different types of cookies.  Why could this same principal not apply to meals?
    Here's where my genius comes into play.  I've read about women who rent a large church kitchen and all get together to make massive quantities of food that they all take home with them.  In theory this sounds great, but now start to think about it.  That means that there are a ton of you under foot.  If you are like me and have the gift of gab, then you will not accomplish as much.  What if instead you made several lasagnas.  It's not really that much more work to make 5, I mean you just increase you time slightly.  So you make Lasagna, Betty Sue makes meat loaf, you get it.  You arrange a day to make the exchange.  You spend a few hours in your kitchen one Sunday afternoon, but you take home a weeks worth of meals.
    I think I'm going to see if anyone I know wants to try this.

Here we go again kids... I'm asking you to hit the button below to vote for me.

Gabe's Friends

    I received a beautiful email from a friend today.  This friend also happens to be the mother of one of Gabe's best friends.  She emailed me to tell me that her son Matthew and their other friend Ryan had been talking about Gabe last night.  They were discussing what he would have been like if he'd had the opportunity to grow up.  It made me smile.  Poor Sandra was worried that she would upset me, but good for her she decided to share it with me and take the chance.  For that I say thank you.
    Gabe died at the age of 9, a little more than a month before his 10th birthday.  The grief felt like panic attacks.  It was like an excess of energy that I just could not get rid of.  How could this happen to me, terrible things happen to people on t.v., not to me.  I had such great hopes and dreams for my first born.  He was smart, and funny, and had only ever had three antibiotics in his life, he was as healthy as a little horse.  Because two people were driving too fast and not watching paying attention to the road, because a deer ran out onto the road and I braked, because unknown to me there was black ice, my beautiful little boy would never grow up, never reach his full potential.  He died, and everyone would forget him, like he never existed, this was my terror.
    Gabe died December 24, 2004.  I remember that in the nice weather a little boy kept riding his bike back and forth in front of our house.  Nearly every day that was not a school day, here was this little kid.  I didn't pay much attention, other than to notice that there was a little boy.  After about a week of this I began to get curious.  I made some excuse to go outside.  The little boy was Gabe's friend Ryan.  "Hi Ryan."  "Hi Mrs. Lindsay".  He came off of his bike.  "Would you like to come in Ryan." a little nod of his head.  That was the start of my comfort.  I think that Ryan missed Gabe so much he wasn't sure what to do with himself.  What a brave boy to come to the house.  He did what many adults never would.  From that day, I would see Ryan.  I would make sure that I had an abundance of treats in the house.  Maybe if I gave him enough candy he would keep coming by.  Ryan became my living link to Gabe.  I'm not sure if Ryan will ever know how much this meant to us.  I no longer had to wonder what Gabe would be doing, I would just ask Ryan.  Then their friend Matthew came by on occasion.  A few years on Gabe's birthday Ryan, Matthew, and Adam came over.    There could be no greater gift that they could have given us, and I'm sure they didn't even know it.
    The boys are all 16 and 17 now.  They have discovered girls, and cars.  On occasion they still stop by.  I don't know if they will ever know the gift that they are to us.  They are still good friends to our son, even after he is no longer here.  There are no words that can properly express our deep gratitude to them.  They are keeping a part of Gabe alive, they are relieving my deepest fears.  Gabe will not be forgotten.  Thank you Sandra for telling me that the boys still remember Gabe.  Thank you boys.

Bella Ever After Boutique

    Once upon a time there were two girls, one blonde, one brunette.  These two pre-teen girls were best of friends.  You would be hard pressed to find one without the other.  When they were not together they were on the telephone.  They even called each other's moms, "Mom".  For their formative years they shared their every hope and dream with each other.  The biggest dreams were loosing weight and finding boyfriends.  They agonized over their weight.  They made pacts, tried strange fad diets.  In the end they conquered their weight, and began to look like the girls that were hidden there all along.  Many hours they spent nearly in tears talking about boys.  "Why doesn't Paul notice me.  Doesn't he know that I need to be his girlfriend?  Why doesn't he know that we would be PERFECT together..." (Note from older self to younger self, boys are afraid of strange girls.  You were a strange girl.   It will take until university before the boys will notice your quirkiness and appreciate it).
    They spent a summer when they were sixteen smoking menthols (don't tell our moms).  Man did they looked cool leaning against that bridge.  "How do I look?"  " Oh you look really hot when you smoke like that!"  Thankfully they never really got the hang of smoking, although menthols were a great idea for breath.  They had some really wonderful times together.  The blonde was exactly who a preteen/ early teen's best friend should be.  They went off to high school and slowly, very slowly began to drift apart.  The brunette drifted away from her old group of friends to find a band of misfits.  They were great and amazing people, but they were misfits. There was a comfort in being surrounded with like, being accepted for your "quirkiness".   Eventually the Blonde and the Brunette just stopped being friends.  There was no big fight, no cruel words, it was the silence, the slow distancing ended their friendship.  In life we have friends who come into our life, give us exactly what we need at that snap shot in time, and then we part when we have learned that life lesson.  But this is not the end of this fairy tale.
    I know enough of the cleaver fairy tale stuff, you know I'm talking about my childhood best friend.
We grew up, that's what kids do.  I thought it might make me seem very cleaver to do the "fairy tale" thing because I ran into Tammy Latchford (you know the blonde) a few months ago, and she told me that she was opening up a boutique called "Bella Ever After" (do you see now why I thought I ever so very cleaver?)  Turns out that dirty little rat has managed to keep the weight off and looks at least 10 years younger than I do!  I promised to take a trip to Stirling to see her shop.
    Yesterday Christopher found himself with a rare day off.  We could do our usual waste the day away, or we could be spontaneous.  We decided to pack Elly into the car and go for a drive.  We headed to Stirling to see Tammy's store ( I had to promise my husband a trip to the cheese factory).
We walked into the store and were greeted with a big smile from the store owner (a.k.a Tammy Latchford).  Her shop is beautiful!  It was also pretty busy, which I was glad to see.  In the half hour or so that we were there no fewer than 10 ladies came in.
    Here is what I like about Tammy's philosophy, "empower other women".  Most of her products are locally made by local women.  She is not just selling ladies pretty things, she is supporting her fellow woman.  I like that.  I also liked that all of the products were reasonably priced.

  I will also say that she has an eye for detail.  The displays are lovely.

I would not dare take my girls into Tammy's shop, because we would leave without mortgage money.

By and large my favourite items that she carries are the ones above.  Apparently they are made by two local ladies.  I could hear my girls begging for them in my head as I looked.  If only they made them with hibiscus flowers... hint ... hint maybe in red (a certain fairy tale brunette is renewing her vows next year, and that would look rather fetching in her dark hair).

Tammy even has a little area for the men to rest their weary, bored legs, and manly magazines for them to look at while they wait.. hopefully patiently.  In this picture my husband is standing in for Elly's table.  They were both very patient and well behaved, thank you Elly and Christopher.

Here she is Tammy herself posing with my favourite items (wasn't that nice of her).  She has a lovely shop and I truly wish her the best of luck with her business.

If anyone is interested in Tammy's store, she's at 21 West Front Street in Stirling, Ontario (also known at the moment as HockeyVille).  She was very cleaver in picking her location because she is just down from the Stirling Festival Theatre.  You can also have a peek at her website at 

bellaeverafterboutique.com

    Incase you didn't already know the end of at least the brunette's story, eventually she lived happily ever after.  She and Prince Charming are renewing their wedding vows next August.  He accepts her strangeness and loves her either in spite of it, or because of it.   It's nice when a story ends well.