July 15, 2014 by gn0mel0ver

Embroidered Doll Dress

I have something I want to say.

“I LOVE THIS DRESS!!!”

Sorry, that was slightly unnecessary. But it is true.

I do.

In, fact, I cannot seem to stop staring at the gorgeous embroidery. As demonstrated in my accidental pose above. It just makes me so happy. I had patiently waited for a sale on the Embroidered Peasant Doll Dress, and when it reached more than 60% off, I asked for it for my birthday.

It is short.

In fact, when my husband took these pictures, he exclaimed, “that dress is RE-E-E-A-A-ALLY short!”

This is coming from the guy that never notices if the entire back of my dress is unbuttoned. I knew it had to be a little too short if he was making a proclamation. I tried not to flashback to all of the bending and reaching I did at the grocery store in the dress, the day before. All of this to say, from this point on I will now be wearing a slip under this dress.

Modesty: it’s ~~a virtue~~ a necessity at my ~~age~~ exercise level.

Anyway, I wish I had gotten a close up shot of the neckline. It has little red stitching with the blue.

In the last two photos, I have a hidden little gnome on my person.

It happens.

However, on the ride home, my husband informed me that my gnome bore an uncanny resemblance to my nemesis…

Elf On The Shelf.

And now he is back in my house. And he is surrounded by his multitude of brothers, because he came in a pack.

And I am trying to not freak the freak out.

Maybe I need to go look at this dress again.

Ahhhhh, here we go. Isn’t that embroidery lovely? It definitely does not in any way remind me of creepy little dudes in red.

And that Scalloped Monogram Bracelet is now on sale at Anthropologie. I own one with my initial and one with my husband’s.

Don’t worry.

I’m simply spinning.

I am not running away in terror.

But I will be watching my back… Just in case.

What do you do about dresses that are too short? Do you wear them anyway? Or do you pair them with pants or a slip? I think this will be cute with tights in the winter, but what color should I wear?

*these photos were edited using the App Afterlife’s Meadow Filter.

P.S. * I shared this on The Pleated Poppy!

July 14, 2014 by gn0mel0ver

THE Room: Summer 2014

I never know what to call this room. Technically it is the Formal Living/Dining Room. But since there is nothing formal about my 1800 square foot house, I try to come up with other alternatives for its name. Let’s see…

The Gnome Room? There are a lot of gnomes hidden throughout this room.

The Music Room? Well, there is the piano that I force my children to play. Hmmmm. They would probably call it “the torture room” or “my mommy is the meanest room”.

We can’t have that.

Let’s move along.

The Art/Antique Room? We do have a lot of antiques in here, including these old industrial spools. And there is a lot of art, but not as much as in other areas of our home. In fact in the Music Room picture, you can see we have just now begun climbing up the arched wall. The kids’ head sculptures will be going up there this week.

The Library?

This would perhaps be closer to the truth, because we do have a ton of books. But I have never seen a library with book shelves that messy. I am sure libraries would disassociate themselves from a room like this.

But it was almost what I called it.

Except.

Well, except when I was putting together this post and looking through the pictures, one theme seemed to stand out. It was rather unexpected. I don’t know what to think about it.

Can you guess what it is?

Yep.

We have a flippin’ Dog Room. What the heck? They’re everywhere. From being there in person to their gigantic mugs on the wall, I think they have claimed this room.

CanIne do anything about it?

Probably not. But it makes me laugh nonetheless.

Do you have a mish/mash room at your home? Do you always wonder what it really is? Have you finally decided on a name? You might be surprised at what the room ruffeals.

July 13, 2014 by gn0mel0ver

Breaking Bread

Gosh. I hope I didn’t really break the bread. I hope I just made a nice easy cut. Sawed it back and forth. Then ate it. Is that worse than simply breaking it? I am sure it didn’t feel a thing.

When I am feeling down, nothing makes me feel better than baking or cooking (and no, I do not think you have to be good at one or the either. That makes no sense at all). Just making something. Forming something from simple ingredients into a wondrous treat makes my whole heart heal.

And if nothing else, it gives me calories to burn while I cry. Or laugh. Or both.

And of all of the baked goods, bread absorbs tears the best. At least, that’s what I’ve been told.

My mother-in-law once taught me her secret to perfect bread. And now I’m telling you. And since she is unaware that this little blog exists, you won’t tell her.

See how that works.

Her secret is substituting whatever liquid the bread recipe calls for with apple juice.

Trust me. It is divine.

But with this recipe having honey, I did not want to do all apple juice and make it too sweet, so I simply substituted a cup of apple juice for the original recipe’s full 2 1/2 cups milk. I very slightly adapted this recipe from Taste of Home.

And I loved it.

It wasn’t broken.

The end.

Oh, wait, I still have to teach you how to make it.

Ingredients:

1 1/2 cups milk
2 packets active dry yeast (1/4 oz. ea.)
2 tsp. salt
1/4 cup melted salted butter
1 cup apple juice
7 cups flour + 1/2 cup to spread on counter
1/3 cup honey

Directions:

Pour milk and apple juice in a microwave proof container

Microwave on high one minute. Stir. If the liquid is still not warm to the touch microwave for thirty seconds more (it will depend on the depth of your cup. I just measured milk to 1 1/2 cups and then apple juice to the very top of a two cup measuring cup. You want your liquid warm and not hot. If it is too hot, it will kill your yeast. My mother-in-law uses a thermometer. I use my finger. Again, she’ll neve’ know. But if you like to be precise, the temperature should be 115 degrees Fahrenheit.

Dump yeast into your mixer. And yes, dump. Not pour. Why? Because “dump” is much more fun to say.

Pour (we can’t get carried away with the other word. It is about to get serious) milk/apple juice mixture in. Stir gently a few times. Let yeast activate for a few minutes (I get impatient. This is usually three minutes for me).

Pour in remaining ingredients. Pour the butter in last because you do not want the hot butter to kill the yeast.

Knead six minutes on your floured surface (or use your dough hook on your stand mixer if you have one. Ditzy me did not realize what that was for until my friend came over and asked me why I just didn’t just use that instead of kneading it by hand. Thankfully my husband did most of the work, because I am a kneady). Form into a large dough ball.

Grease round mixing bowl with butter.

Lay ball of dough in the bowl and then flip the dough once so that all sides of the dough are greased.

Turn oven on to its lowest setting for just two minutes. Do not let it get to a high temperature. Turn oven off. Place a damp dish towel over bowl of dough and place the bowl in the oven for an hour.

Make sure you leave plenty of room above the bowl for the dough to rise in the oven.

Remove bowl from the oven.

Remove the towel.

Punch dough in the middle. (The kids LOVE doing this).

Dough will deflate. Form dough into two loaves (I just rip mine in half, channeling my inner Hulk and just pat that baby into shape) and place into two, greased with butter, 9 X 5 loaf pans.

Place pans in oven to rise for thirty minutes (it will still be warm enough to do this).

Remove pans from oven. Turn oven to 375 degrees. Bake bread for 15 minutes. After fifteen minutes cover the tops of the bread with foil and cook for another eighteen minutes.

Remove loaves from oven. Turn oven off. Remove foil.

Turn loaves upside down onto a cooling rack one at a time and turn over so they are right side up again.

Let cool thirty minutes before eating.

I made the kids and myself a cute little table setting to eat our fresh homemade bread at. We all loved it. It created minimal clean up. And it definitely made the homemade bread feel much more special.

I would say that is not broken at all.

July 12, 2014 by gn0mel0ver

It’s The Little Things: Matryoshka Doll

For my birthday, my family surprised me with this sweet stacking Russian doll. As an outsider looking in, this seems to be just a sweet gift. But there is more to this little doll than meets the eye. Let me tell you tell a little story…

When I was four years old, my mother’s best friend brought her back a Matryoshka Nesting Doll as a gift when she returned home from her travels to Russia. My mother loved that doll. I was fascinated by it. We grew up pretty simply in the country when I was small. And I think that made my childhood special. It left more room for the imagination. I could spend hours on the floor talking to a beetle. It was with great joy that my mother let me stack and unstack her new gift.

The best part about the doll was that it unstacked to the tiniest little doll. It was about the size of a grain of rice. I was obsessed with that thing. I loved (and still do to this day) anything miniature. One day, when I was playing with the doll, the worst thing happened. My mother, unaware that the tiniest doll was sleeping on the carpet on the floor in her bedroom (I know! How could she not realize that?), came in and vacuumed the floor. The small doll was vacuumed up. I was devastated. My mother was devastated. Sorry Mom!

And I never touched that Matryoshka Doll again.

Whenever I spot one of these stacking dolls, I always ask if it breaks down into a tiny doll. No one ever knows what I am talking about. Although, I am sure they are curious as to why I sadly proclaim, “it’s not small enough,” and walk away remorsefully.

Well, my family found this Matryoshka Doll at The San Diego Fair. It has the tiniest doll! My husband and daughter sneakily found it while I was waiting with my son while he got his sculpture made.

I love everything about this gift. The bright colors. The memories it invokes. The secrets it keeps inside. And the fact that my daughter found it for her mother when the opposite was true in our family’s past. Again, sorry Mom!

It’s The Little Things: The Littlest Doll. So happy to hold one again!

Do you own a Matryoshka Doll? Does it hold more than just miniatures of its own self inside? Does it hold memories, too?

Gnome Lover

Stumbling through life while still having fun

Month: July 2014

Embroidered Doll Dress

THE Room: Summer 2014

Breaking Bread

It’s The Little Things: Matryoshka Doll