Over the Ridge

August 17, 2011September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. Brackett4 Comments

The Blue Ridge that is. Last week we took a mini-vacay to Asheville. The best part? Daddy went with us!

All summer the girls and I have been swimming and hiking and biking and camping and beaching and water parking without daddy.

Obviously I’m crazy.

Because it is SO MUCH EASIER to have another set of hands! Especially one that helped make them so I don’t feel any guilt about letting him handle tantrums or bad directions or dirty diapers.

Thank you, Lord, I don’t have to do this motherhood thing alone. And thank you that Joshua has two weeks worth of vacation at his new job, so we got to have this past weekend + two more days AND he’s off for the first day of school on Friday so we can start another baby in kindergarten.

Here’s some of my favorite moments from our trip

(because I know the pictures are all you care about anyway)

For more visual reminders that I have three drama queens and a sweet husband, you can check our our album online. Love that Picasa.

Asheville Trip Aug. 2011

joshua · marriage

What Makes a Marriage

July 21, 2011 Lindsey P. Brackett4 Comments

Originally published July 20, 2011 when we were celebrating nine years. This year marked ten with the promise of many more.

Nine years ago, he held my hand and grinned at me when Dan pronounced us man and wife. Tonight he’s guiding little hands to put together a puzzle.

Nine years ago, the buffet was spread all over the halls of Rosabelle Manor. Tonight we had leftovers and he fed Amelia bits of hamburger.

Nine years ago, he wore a coat and tails. Today he opted for a shirt he never wears because everything else needs ironing.

Nine years ago, I’d have told you that yellow roses and blue delphinium, white satin and floaty chiffon, beautiful music and softly lit candles made the perfect marriage. Now I know they make a lovely wedding, but what makes a marriage is so much more.

What makes a marriage is how many times he got up with a new baby girl (now baby boy!) in the middle of the night. It’s all the many times he’s bought me exactly what I wanted and gone without. It’s the times I’ve heard him singing lullabies or reading for the hundredth time that book about the lost duckling that Annabelle loves so much.

What makes a marriage is all the times he’s taken over when I just can’t handle this messy, chaotic, amazing life we have.

What makes a marriage is all the dark times in the past nine years he’s continued to love me, to forgive me, to desire me when I’m sure no one else could. He’s seen my worst, yet everyday he finds ways to tell me that I’m the best thing that ever happened to him.

He’s certainly the best thing that ever happened to me.

cooking · joshua · sisters

A Monday Menu

June 6, 2011September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. Brackett4 Comments

Disclaimer: Do not read this post if you are in any way opposed to dishes with lots of cheese, calories, and incredible deliciousness.

Here in the Brackett house, we like to cook. And I do mean we. After all, Joshua wasn’t sad when we downgraded our tv package. The “family plan” allows you to keep Food Network.

I’ve been struggling a good bit lately with how to keep us on budget and keep everybody happy. So, this week I inventoried my freezer and fridge and planned a menu for the week that accomodates our family and our two little guests. Well, Audrey’s not little but she eats like a six year old, so the plan works. The other part of my plan is a desire to try some new recipes, spice up the old repertoire and pass these along to other folks who might enjoy some variety among their standard.

Disclaimer #2: The Pioneer Woman is my kitchen hero.

This weekend we thanked Joshua’s dad for all the work he did in our office (pictures, soon, I promise!) by grilling the country style ribs I found on sale at Publix. Which was one of God’s little blessings to make up for me not realizing the ad I had prepared for started the next day and I had already driven the 40 minutes it takes to get to the nearest Publix. But it all worked out, because Saturday night we had this for dinner….

mmmm…..barbecue sauce….

and here’s the grill master himself putting on his secret recipe….all I do to prepare this meal is buy the meat and wash the dishes. Well, sometimes I consent to bake a potato or two.

On Sunday, I decided to give this much heralded yumminess a try.

I think it turned out pretty good myself, although I could have made it faster if I’d actually read the directions before I neatly sliced all my olives.

Rough chop. That’s all. No need for perfection because it all comes out gooey in the end. Then maybe both slices would have been in the picture instead of having been devoured by the starving children before I could get my hands on the camera. Yes, my kids eat olives. By the fingerful. And who wouldn’t eat this?

Seriously, look at the cheese.

You don’t even want to know what all is in this. Let’s just say, I don’t eat olives and I ate this while standing in the kitchen putting on pizza toppings for the rest of dinner and negotiating relations between three quarrelsome little girls. Make this immediately. Olive Cheesebread by the Pioneer Woman. Eat it with a salad if you feel too guilty.

Here’s the pizza we also had. Obviously carbs are not a concern right now. And here’s my cooking tip of the week.

Don’t back pizza on an airbake pan. It won’t cook in the middle but the edges will be nice and crisp.

As you can see, we’ve got several different pizza tastes going on here.

So what follows dinners like these?

Ridiculously happy baby.

And a few rounds of bananagrams with Aunt Audrey. Look at this, she spelled everything right!

So what’s on tap for the rest of the week? A couple of casseroles, a meatless quiche, and a dinner for a sweet family who just got bigger.

birthdays · holidays · joshua

all the way from…

February 18, 2011September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. Brackett4 Comments

On Friday afternoon I started finding all these little bites of deliciousness in random places like my car…my dresser…my suitcase….

Inside this festive bag is a sweet note and my favorite cookie from a little bakery in Wellesley, Massachusetts where my aunt lives. That’s right, he had them imported all the way to Georgia to give me Valentine’s Day and early birthday wishes. The best part is he’ll love me even if I eat the whole box.