Step One: Get boxes of empty applesauce jars located and unpacked. Reminisce about how long it’s been since you’ve used ALL the jars you have.

Step Two: Buy new lids. Buy more new lids. Buy a few extra just to err on the optimistic side that you’re going to get your hands on your apples this year.

Step Three: Visit the orchard with friends. No Ida Reds, so you pick a few Empires and Golden Supremes and go home and can two and a half jars. Vow to not can any more unless they are Honeycrisp or Ida Reds.

Step Four: Watch for Ida Reds. Hope for Ida Reds. Pray for Ida Reds (since Honeycrisps are either gone or way too costly.)

Step Five: Sing a song of thanksgiving as you pick bag after glorious bag of Ida Reds at a beautiful Michigan orchard.

Step Six: Pick a few more, just in case. Wonder how many apples you need to have enough applesauce for a year. Pick a few more just in case. Pick a few Empires just to try. Pick a few more. Pick a few more.

Step Seven: Stand agast at the check out stand when she announces you’ve picked 145 pounds of apples. Thank goodness they are cheap at the orchard! (Silently wonder if you left your mind in PA.)

Step Eight, Nine, Ten, Thirty-six, Fifty-eight: peel (by hand) every apple. Cube and cook with special Top Secret Recipe, can 3-4 jars per cooked batch. When cool, start stacking jars in the closet. Start to wonder if you’ll ever eat anything BUT applesauce.

Step, Well, Whatever We’re On Now: Put the last batch of apples in the pot, process the last needed batch of strawberries to be added later, wash the last remaining jars and stand and wonder how on earth did you come out with EXACTLY the right amount of apples for EXACTLY the amount of jars you have from five years ago.

Now, applesauce anyone?

My second mom recommended this book to me awhile ago and I was fortunate enough to find it at the library when I picked up Sparks’ latest.

Girl in Hyacinth Blue traces the path of a painting as it passes from hand to hand, touching lives as it goes. Each chapter reads like a short story in and of itself, with a unique narrator adding to the understanding, perspectives and dimensions of the painting. Vreeland takes us through the lifespan of the painting back even to the origins and the subject herself.

Art History was one of my favorite classes in college. You wouldn’t know it now, as I’m not all that fond of museums and I find many pieces of art to be too artistic for me to understand, but it was because of the passion of the professor that I enjoyed my college requirement so much and it is with a similar passion that Vreeland spins this tale for us as we all fall in love with the mysterious painting.

This book is a unique read. I enjoyed seeing how a simple painting of a simple girl wearing a simple expression could affect so many people in so many ways. I loved how it changed people and how it changed their lives; of the people that would forsake everything else just to keep the painting for the joy it brought to them. Of how people could relate so intensely to the girl they knew so little about. I truly found myself swept away.

I highly recommend this read – my step mom and I read many of the same books so I had no doubt her recommendation would prove to be a good one and I highly second the suggestion.

Friday evening we spent at my sister’s. LM enjoyed hanging out with the cousins and we all enjoyed some pizza and some down time after our busy weeks. When we arrived back home, LM sat quietly on the couch not doing anything – a rarity for my boy. I asked what he was thinking about.

“Nothing.”

With my motherly intuition tuned in, I replied, “I don’t believe you. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

I decided to make a game of it, hoping to extract whatever was causing him so much deep contemplation.

“How about we play 20 Questions and see if I can guess it?”

LM agreed, chuckling despite his pensive mood.

1. Is it an activity? NO
2. Is it about a person? Yes
3. Is it about a specific person or just people in general? (LM asked me to clarify the question. I said, “For instance, I could just be thinking about when I might have another great date, or I might be thinking about when I might have a great date with Tom Brady. Oh, he said, sort of a specific person.)
4. Are you thinking about seeing if D or E can play with you tomorrow? NO
6. Are you thinking about your George or Bird? NO
7. Are you thinking about kids at school? NO
8. Are you thinking about your dad? NO
9. Are you thinking about your grandparents? NO
10. Are you thinking about Eli? NO (he laughed and reminded me that Eli is not a person)
11. I guess I don’t need to ask if it’s about Jonah, then, huh? NO
12. Are you thinking about W, your best friend in PA? NO
13. Okay, LM I’m running out of ideas, can I get a hint?

LM left the room, I thought the conversation was over and I wasn’t going to find out what was on his mind. I decided to drop the topic and make a mental note to try to bring it up another time. LM returned to the room a few minutes later and flew a paper airplane into my lap and then ran into his bedroom.

After spending an evening playing with George and Bird, laughing, eating pizza, fighting and reluctantly leaving, LM’s paper airplane contained the following message:

“One word: Brother”

Oh, LM, if only it were so simple to give you one.

Last week LM made a portion of his room into an office. He has paper, an adding machine, pencils, calculator and an in box. All the things necessary for good office management.

Seeing the “In” box, I was prompted to write him a letter – I hate to not play along. It’s not as if I can leave it up to his siblings to engage in his playfulness.

“Dear Sir: I would like to meet with you at your earliest convenience regarding a top secret topic that shall not be discussed in any way on paper. I am available most evenings, however, this Thursday I have a prior obligation that is of the utmost importance to me (LM’s school Open House). Perhaps, if your busy schedule would allow, we might meet on Friday sometime after 7pm? Please let me know if this would work for you. I appreciate your urgency and confidentiality in this matter. Best regards, Ms. Mom”

“Ms. Mom: Thank you for your letter. I am available on Friday, at 8 o’clock. This is the ONLY TIME that I am available on that date after 7pm. I am sorry if this is an inconvenience to you. If you need to re-scedual, please notify my appointment manager, Eli on Howls (our nickname for the dog), or send me a reply. Thank you. LM, President.”

“Mr. LM: 8pm on Friday evening will suit me just fine. I appreciate your temily and professional response and attention to this matter. As I previously mentioned, the topic for discussion is highly sensitive and must remain strictly confidential. I will fill you in on any pertinent details at our meeting. Until that time, I would wish only to know what your billable rates might be and what methods of payment are acceptable. Please let me know. If you have anything further to ask or need any other information before Friday, please do not hesitate to contact me. I may be reached through my personal assistant, Jonah v. Whale. Best regards, Ms. Mom, CEO, COO, CFO, CMO, UFO, VCR, PhD of the Mother Institute of Parental Influence.”

We had our meeting last Friday, and discussed LM’s current list of chores and had a discussion about raising his allowance.

This week, the following letter appeared on my bed.

“Ms. Mom: I have heard that you have recently made a batch of your locally famous apple sause. I was wondering if it might be possible to obtain a jar of it for personal reasons. Please respond at your earliest convineance to discuss delivery. Sincerly, LM, CEO and President of Kid ConFed Org.”

“Dear Sir: We at MomsGreatFoods.com appreciate your inquire into our fine selection of homemade products. We are currently producing our seasonal specialties: applesauce and strapplesauce. While we would love to provide you with a fresh batch for your personal enjoyment, we are well aware of the desire of our competitors to obtain our Top Secret recipe. While we in no way mean to suggest or accuse you of trying to obtain this secret recipe, we must nontheless remain cautionary in our response. After conferring with my Director of All Things Confidential, Mr. J. Cat, we have decide to extend to you and your company the invitation to enjoy fresh applesauce during Sunday dinner at our headquarters in Southwest Michigan. We hope this agreement is favorable to you. We look forward to seeing you around 7pm tomorrow evening. Best regards, M.s Mom, CEO, CFO, Head Chef, MomsGreatFoods.com”

“Ms. Mom: Thank you for your prompt reply and the invataion to your dinner, wich we accept. However, though I understand your caution, I can assure you that I have nether the motivation nor the means to discover your seceret recipe, wich, mind you, you have already shared with me. I wish only to acquire ONE jar of your Ida Red applesause (TM). Thank you for your time, LM, CEO and President of Kid ConFed.”

“Dear Sir: I hope that you enjoyed your sample of MomsGreatFoods.com seasonal strapplesauce this evening at our Midwest headquarters. I am aware that a list of ingredients was shared with you; please be assured that knowing the precise proportions and cooking methods is critical to producing the best strapplesauce (strawberry applesauce) ever produced in this household. I am, therefore, unable to share that information with you at this time. I have, however, checked with my Assistant of Production, Mr. Joe Nah, who took inventory of our supply and noted that with the purchase of more than 145 pounds of apples from the orchard and the production of over 20 quart-sized jars of sauce, he assures me we will have more than enough to meet the demands of our clients. I can, therefore, at this time, extend to you ONE jar of MomsGreatFoods.com 2007 Strapplesauce made with Michigan Ida Red apples. Please accept this gift on behalf of all the employees of our company. We hope to continue to build and grow our business relationship with you for years to come. Best regards, Ms. Mom, CEO, CFO and exhausted Head Chef of MomsGreatFoods.com”

So this temping thing, if nothing else, is at least allowing me to sample jobs I know I’ll never want on a permanent basis. Last week I worked in a law firm as a “Legal Assistant”. Not having ANY legal background whatsoever made this a particularly interesting assignment, but I learned a few things and that’s what counts right? Here’s what I took away from that experience:

1. I am so glad my divorce was so amicable and that we used a mediator instead of dueling lawyers. Reading an email from a woman trying to put herself through college who was agast at her $15,000 lawyer bill, as she tried to understand how she had to pay $220 an hour for her lawyer to try to recover $3000 from her ex husband, well, it had me furious for her.

2. I don’t want to work in an office where all the clients are mad. This law office specialized in divorce and employment law. Everyone was either breaking off a relationship (at great financial cost) or was recently fired.

3. I’m not a coffee drinker but I would have had to become one if I stayed any longer. They had the COOLEST coffee maker from Green Mountain – it made individual cups of coffee in all different flavors. Even me, a non-coffee drinker, could make a client a perfect cup o’ Joe!
4. I’m sure there’s a reason for legal-ese, but I don’t know what it is. Can’t we write up a complaint without “wherefore’s” “hereto’s” and so forth?

Today and tomorrow I’m working at a sales office for a Section 8 apartment complex. OH.MY.

First of all, there are three people in the office and I don’t think any of them have worked there longer than 4 months. The people who used to work there NEVER filed (which is why I’m there). The office people are so amazed with the speed at which I finished work today they aren’t sure what to do with me tomorrow but want me to come back anyway. hey, it’s your dime! What I’ve learned:

1. I’m so grateful that I have at least enough $$ to NOT live in that complex.

2. I’m so glad my complaints thus far have been a loud neighbor, carpet that smells like cat pee and shelves that fall out of the refrigerator and NOT roaches, mice and drug dealers.

3. One of the women in the office, a young, tiny little thing just started working there on Monday. I knew here for all of a couple of hours today when she got up from the desk we were working at and walked into her supervisor’s office and asked if pantyhose were a requirement. Her boss said, no, it’s a fairly casual environment (as if you couldn’t tell that by just looking around) and the girl promptly returned to her desk WHERE I WAS SITTING and reached up under her skirt (not a long skirt, either) and removed her pantyhose. She sat back down and laughed and said she felt remarkably better. I cannot imagine how much alcohol I would have to consume before I would EVER dream of taking off underthings in front of ANYONE let alone a complete stranger.

While I am certainly looking forward to regular, full-time employment with benefits and retirement plans and vacation days, temping has its perks – and not all of them come in paycheck form!

I read Nicholas Sparks’ latest novel, The Choice, in a quick evening read a couple nights ago. I remembered that it was coming out, but then doubted the library would have such a new release. I was delightfully surprised to see that they did and that it was available.

I won’t say much about the book. If you’ve read Sparks before, it’s another good, typical, quick read. If you haven’t read Sparks but enjoy an easy, sweet, romantic, sentimental, moral but not too dry book, try one. I’ve read all of his, my favorites are still Message in a Bottle and The Notebook (the books are better than the movies!)

Now I’m on to a book recommended to me by my second mom called “Girl in Hyacinth Blue”. I’ll give a review when I finish that one.

I was reading a brochure that listed local classes and activities offered by the park district. I noticed a listing for a cheap ceramics class but my enthusiasm was quickly squelched when I saw the class was offered on Wednesdays from 9-noon or noon-2pm. “Do they think that people just don’t work?!” I sighed.

“Yep,” replied LM. “They think only the husbands work and the wives stay home all day.”

“Ahh, a husband,” I said. “Where do you suppose I could get us one of those?”

“At WalMart,” said LM confidently, without missing a single beat.

“They sell husbands at WalMart?” I asked doubtfully.

“Yep. In the furniture section.”

“They sell husbands in the furniture section at WalMart? I’m not so certain I would want a husband from WalMart, but I just can’t believe they’ve sold them there all these years and I had no idea. Are you certain? WalMart? Really?”

LM left the breakfast table and headed to his bedroom. He emerged with his big reading pillow, which he years ago he learned to refer to as a “husband” by his best friend. “Yes, Mom. They sell husbands (reading pillows) in the furniture section at WalMart.”

LM. Oh, that boy thinks he’s soooo clever. Wherever does he get that sarcastic, dry sense of humor from? Oh, right. Nevermind.

Yesterday, I received my first paycheck from the temp agency I’m working for. I commented to LM that it wasn’t much, but it was nice to see money coming in for a change of pace. He asked how much it was for. “$14.52” I answered. LM looked up from his dinner, stunned.

“What?! Do those people pay you like two cents an hour or something?!?”

I had to laugh. “No, LM. This check is for the brief training I went to last week, not for the full week of work I’m currently doing.”

Man, we knew the cost of living was a bit lower in Michigan but two cents an hour?!

We’ve been in the state for what, three weeks and already we’re trying to con them out of money. (What?! Like you haven’t done it?!) We now live in the land of the great dime-back-for-every-soda-can (although I think it’s only if you call it “pop”). LM and I took a sack (Hey! I’m back in the Midwest, I can say ‘sack’ again!) full of empty soda cans and faced the huge mechanism at the back of the grocery store that supposedly recycled the aluminum and spat out a nifty little receipt to give us our deposit money back. Only…some of our cans…were PA cans…that don’t have a deposit on them. BUT THE MACHINE TOOK THEM ANYWAY. So, we made perhaps an extra buck. WOOHOO!!! (Hey, it’s the small things when you’re broke! Besides, I have to try to make up for that ticket I got!)

LM commented tonight that he’s noticed somethings to be different since we moved here. One: there is cultural diversity. Where we lived in PA, well, the only black people were those who had spent too much time at the shore…okay, not quite, but seriously, I think LM went to school with ONE non-white child. Now, LM is the MINORITY.

He also commented that people don’t say, “I was just kiddin’ ” They say, “I was just playin’ ” A big difference in an 11 year old’s vernacular. And they don’t sigh exactly, they do this clicking thing with their mouth, apparently.

I commented that it wasn’t until I was watching Monday Night Football (the game was in Philly) that I realized, “wait a minute, we aren’t in Philly anymore…) That’s why they call me “Flash.”

Other perks? It takes me 10 minutes to get to my job. (I know, I’m temping, but STILL!) There are college kids EVERYWHERE (at the market, there were three men and a cart. The cart contained: four frozen pizza, five loaves of bread and beer.)

Wow, whaddya know, sit down to blog and I post THREE TIMES. And I had nothing to say. Now, go to Newly’s blog and beg for pictures of her itty, will ya?