Strawberry pies forever

I changed the title of my blog. People were making comments about how weird it was...which is kind of true. It was an odd name, and it required a lot of explanation. Plus, I'm afraid it was off-putting. So I've changed the name of my blog. I feel like 'slice of life' is appropriate, as I am a recreational baker with a bit of a specialty when it comes to pies (if I do say so myself).
My dad has actually taken to calling me 'pie-girl', a moniker -like my apron- I wear with great pride! (If only the it came with my own pie-maker in shining armor).

This year marks the second-annual Chambers Family Memorial Day BBQ...and last year all I was in charge of was music, but this year I was on dessert duty! Because strawberries are delicious, and in season, I decided that a strawberry pie would be perfect. Also, there is a strawberry stand bike-riding distance from the house. (A bike ride justifies a hefty slice of pie, right?)

Dad made his 'famous' ribs n' chicken, mom spruced up the backyard and I did my part to make our Memorial day one to remember!

Confessions of a TV-Addict (Season Finales, now what?)

The Curse was broken. Karen confessed. Robin is the bide. Ivy didn't get the part. Rachel went to New York. Nick moved back. Jimmy got Hope. Gloria is pregnant. Victoria is dead. Kragen woke up with a dead hooker in his bed. Wolowitz got married. Jack and Avery got divorced. Andy got his job back. And that is where the writers of the 12 season finales and the 1 series finale (Desperate Housewives) decided to end things.

I watch a lot of TV and I am currently sucked in to 12 different serieses ranging from Glee to Law & Order:SVU, from Once Upon A Time to Modern Family...the list goes on.
I know that TV turns your brain to mush. I know that is makes you more dumber. I also know that I mostly don't care...plus, I watch Jeopardy, so that's got to count for something. I've also found a way to use my TV watching for good. I use commercial breaks as work-out breaks. It's a really good plan. Even my grandma noticed the difference my TV-routine has made. (For the record, that was my 'mean' grandma).

But now I'm afraid. Now that my shows are done until the fall, I'm afraid of falling out of my fitness routine. I need new shows to feed my work-out habit and my TV addiction.

Cat-astrophe

I've spent the last five nights cat-sitting. I have never really been what you'd call a 'cat person', but the past few days have really been a learning experience for me. 

I learned (while scooping kitty litter) that there is very little I won't do for money.

I learned that I'm mildly allergic to cats. Probably. (The watery eyes, stuffy nose and scratchy throat may have been a coincidence...but I doubt it!)

I learned that cats are weird. They will walk all over your face when you're trying to sleep but the second the alarm goes off...bam! there is a soft, warm little ball of fur on your chest, and it's not moving. 

I learned that I will never own a cat. Ever.

Also, the people whose cats I was watching were supposed to be home yesterday afternoon...but they weren't. They decided to stay away longer, and they didn't feel the need to let me know this? Cats and cat people...I'm tellin' ya! Sheesh!

It's all Ελληνικά to me!

Behind every Tattoo is a story...and here is the story of mine:

This is a 'Jesus Pizza'. That is the official and technical term the tour-guide used when I was in Turkey (was that really five years ago?!). This is roughly the shape you would get if you were to write ΙΧΘΥΣ as a stack instead of as a word. ΙΧΘΥΣ (ick-thuss) is the Greek word for

fish. It is also an acronym, ΙΧΘΥΣ stands for: 

Ιησους – Jesus

Χριστος – Christ

Θεου –God’s

Υιος – Son

Σωτηρ -Savior

This acronym is the origin of the oldest symbol of Christianity: the 'Christian Fish' 

This symbol was used by ancient Christians to identify one another. Because so many followers of Christ were being persecuted for their faith, the early church developed this secret symbol to keep the fellowship of believers alive. 

Learning all of this made me realize how much I take for granted being a Christian 'out in the open'. I can wear my cross necklace and carry my Bible and not be killed for it. But these ancient Christians had to create acronyms and symbols to express their faith to one another.  

Not only did this intrigue me, but it stuck with me...and now it's stuck on me!

Drawing a...uh...um...

I have been a presiding minister at Christ Lutheran Church since the beginning of the year. Every other Sunday, I get up in front of the congregation and announce the offering, read from scripture, pray, facilitate confession and preside over communion for two services. I estimate I've done this about 30 times. I think I have gotten it exactly right once (maaaaybe twice). There is one part of all this that really seems to trip me up. During communion I say the following words while simultaneously breaking bread: "On the night in which he was betrayed, our Lord Jesus took bread, gave thanks, and gave it to his disciples saying: "Take and eat, this is my body, broken for you."
I may be fairly new to presiding over worship, but I am not new to church. So, while I've only been saying these words a couple dozen times...I've heard them said more than 1,000 times in my life. You'd think I'd have them down by now.
But I don't.
I always blank at this part...which leads to me standing there like this:

I have really poor hand/brain/mouth coordination. 

Meanwhile as I stand there awkwardly Lion-King-ing my brain decides to take FOR-EV-ER to tell my eyes to look down at my notes. Again, the coordination thing. I'm not good at it.

I'm just amazed (and honored and grateful and flabbergasted) that they let me keep doing this!

Why moving back home was the best decision I didn't get to make for myself.

Exactly a year ago today, I made the necessary move back into my parents' house after the devastation of losing my job. After the move, I felt small, I felt defeated, and I felt incredibly depressed. I didn't have a job, I didn't have a purpose, and I didn't have an ounce of independence. I didn't want to do anything...I couldn't do anything except watch Penelope on a loop all day. I had lost any reason I had ever had for getting out of bed.

A year later...I can say that moving back to Visalia has been the biggest blessing in my life!

Friends- I have a sitcom-like group of people in my life, and I'm not sure how I got this far without them! I have been more social, been on more adventures, and have had some of the most fun I can imagine in this past year: Beach days, mountain weekends, theme parks, 5Ks, Denny's, spontaneous ice cream runs, movie nights, sock golf, movies, mini golf, game nights, sevies runs, you name it! These people make my life better then it's ever been!!

Work- I feel like I have really found my footing teaching preschool. I really feel like this is what I was meant to do. I still get to hang out and help out with the youth, which I love doing...but my heart is that of a preschool teacher. I am so much happier in this career then I was in youth ministry. I get to hang out with children every single day. I get to do arts & crafts, I get to sing silly songs, I get to hold tiny hands and I get to hear things like "Miss Lauren, you look pretty today"...such a self-esteem boost!! I work with an amazing and supportive group of women so I pretty much have the best job ever!

Church- I have always considered my church here in Visalia to be my home. I literally grew up at Christ Lutheran, and the members of that church are my family! Ever since I've been back, I have felt so supported and encouraged. I feel so filled with worship, and ironically...the church that has known me since I was a baby treats me more like an adult and with more respect than the church that I worked for. I have even been honored to serve as a presiding minister, which has been so incredible. I am so humbled to be trusted with such a big responsibility.

It is incredible to look back and reflect on the awful experience of losing my job and see all the good that has come from it. Even though I'm still stuck in my parents' house...I can confidently say my life is about 88% better now then it was in SoCal

So blow the candles out, my dear...

Today is my birthday, and I love my birthday!!

I have gone through a lot over the past year. Moving out of my apartment and back into my parents' house four days into my 25th year led to a rocky start, but 25 ended up being a great year! I met a lot of new people, and I made some terrific friends who have blessed me tremendously! Now I can only hope that 26 is just as (if not more) great.
As amazing as this past year has been, it's still a little hard for me to cope with that fact that I'm nowhere near where I thought I'd be in my life by the time I crossed the threshold from 'early to mid-twenties' to 'mid- to late twenties'. Although, my dad was 39 for several years...surely, I can hang on to 25 for a little while longer.

I want to keep having birthdays, but I don't want to get any older until something changes. I like the birthday crowns, and the birthday wishes, and the birthday blessings, and the birthday dinners...and I love the birthday bikes!

Okay, maybe 'birthday bikes' shouldn't have been plural. I just got the one. But it's pink and it has a little basket, so I think I'm good there!

I did have a great day: my friends surprised me last night with pie and ice cream, my kiddos sang to me today and my parents took me to my favorite Mexican restaurant for dinner! I just want to keep all the fun stuff, but stay away from the birthday blues!

I scream, you scream...

I love ice cream. I really really love it! One of the 'house rules' I had in my apartment was: if you want ice cream, you go get ice cream. (Some of the other rules included staying in jammies until at least 10 on Saturdays and never turning off the TV or changing the channel during a Law & Order: SVU marathon)

But...back to the ice cream thing. I really wanted ice cream tonight. I needed to work on church stuff, but I knew I wasn't going to get any real work done as long as I had ice cream on the brain. So I hopped in the car and drove myself to 31 Flavors. Let me tell you, 31 is a lot of flavors to have to chose from. I narrowed it down to two: cotton candy, and my 'usual' a flavor called icing on the cake. I couldn't choose. I 'eenie meenie miny moe-d', but ultimately, there was really only one right answer: both. Both was good. Both was the best decision I ever made without actually having to make a decision.

My life is exhilarating!