This year marked the first Thanksgiving I’ve ever spent without family—always before I’d either been with my family or Scott’s family, with lots of people around to visit with. I was a might bit melancholy and sad to be missing out on family traditions and good times. In an effort to combat these feelings, I tried to talk Scott into a road trip. I really wanted to go to New York and watch the Macy’s Day Parade. I felt that if we couldn’t be with family, than we might as well be doing something super exciting. Unfortunately, a trip to New York didn’t fit very well into our limited budget.

I went with another great option and invited some of our close friends over for Thanksgiving dinner. We pretended to all be family together and had a great time doing so. Our guests included:

Kelly, Andrea, and Jonas Jeppssen

Jared, Kandra, and Gavin Owens

Joe, Lisa, Calder, Evan, and Nolan Hymas

Scott, Anne, and Mackenzie Bean (unfortunately, Anne didn’t make it in any of the pictures as she was the one behind the camera).

Of course, we were there too.

Between all of us, we managed to make some really yummy Thanksgiving food. Some of it included:

Spinach salad

Stuffing

Gravy

Pecan Pie

And turkey, of course, which Scott spent all morning slow cooking in our back patio (so everything, including my hair, could smell like smoke days later).

Scott served his turkey with great pride and love. I was really good, although Scott and I both agree that it got a bit too much “smoke” flavor.

Evan and Calder weren’t nearly as excited by the turkey though, they were pretty zoned in on watching “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas” and getting an early start on the holiday season.

Lisa, however, thought everything was great!

Kandra and Jared had a good time taking pictures of their sleeping little babe…

Scott Bean thought the food was great,

but his daughter wasn’t sure if it was much better than her toes.

Later, after some couples had left, we settled down to play some games. We had a good time with four-man chess, Balderdash, and Taboo. All in all, it turned out to be a great Thanksgiving. It was fun to have everyone over to our place to celebrate the holiday and remember all the things we are grateful for in this life!

Life in OH-IO, Lonica Stuff | 3 Comments »

I’m grateful for the little life lessons bestowed upon me by my mother.

Particularly, the little lesson that you can’t leave the house in anything that isn’t ironed properly. It has been ingrained in me from a young age that crease marks down the front of a sweater make for unacceptable attire. This means you have to navigate your turtleneck off—and around your necklace—so you can iron it smooth before hurrying out the door in the morning.

Well, actually, my mother didn’t teach me to do my ironing rapidly the morning before you wear the item in question. Everyone knows that all laundry should be completed on Monday mornings, so it’s clean and ready for the upcoming week. It isn’t a Monday morning without walking down the hallway and having piles of dirty laundry sorted and ready to be washed. Once the Monday laundry is done, you have the rest of the week to forget about it and enjoy life, because everyone knows that if it doesn’t get ironed on Monday, you’ll just have to wait until next week.

And since your laundry is clean on Monday, waiting not-so-patiently to be picked up from mom and dad’s bed and put away in your drawers, everyone knows that mothers have to complete all the ironing on Monday night, after Family Home Evening. Preferably while watching an educational television show on Channel 8.

That is, until mother’s children turn about eight. Then it becomes their responsibility to complete their own ironing. Every week. Without fail. Somehow, the dad manages to squeak out of this life lesson. Apparently, being the breadwinner of a family entitles you to a No-Ironing Necessary pass for life. Years later, he visits his grown-up daughter and still has to request to have his new, Go Bucks! T-shirt ironed. While his ironing abilities are no match for his daughter’s, it’s obvious he has the “all items of clothing must be perfectly ironed” lesson thoroughly ingrained in him.

While these lesson might be a bit superficial, there’s more to them.

Essentially, here’s what I learned:

Looking your best is worth the effort, because you are worth the effort.

Finish unpleasant tasks first, so that life can be enjoyed later.

Use your time wisely; take every opportunity to do as many good things (at once) as possible.

Become independent; learn at an early age to work and complete tasks.

Honor your father; it’s not worth giving him a hard time about the fact that he can’t do something you could do at age eight, because he can make more money in a week than you can in a month.

Thanks, Mom, for these and many other life lessons. As Lane, on Gilmore Girls said, “You are in my head! My head! Are you happy now?!?” Miles and time zones away, you are still in my head. And that’s a good thing.

Lonica Stuff | 3 Comments »

I’m grateful for mornings my alarm clock doesn’t wake me.

There’s something so relaxing about waking on your own, rather than having an incessant buzzing wake you in the morning. Especially on cold mornings when you can snuggle deeper into the down comforter and get a few more minutes of napping before your warm toes have to creep outside of their warm cocoon and be assaulted by the early morning cold.

Scott claims his alarm is better than mine. I just want to point out that his is two days and seven hours behind where it should be. Definitely not quite where it should be!

Lonica Stuff | 1 Comment »

I’ve been mulling over how to cook the turkey for Thanksgiving.  Last year, I followed Alton Brown’s brined and roasted version, which turned out well.  This year, I’ve decided we’re going with a smoked turkey, partly because smoked turkey sandwich is one of my favorites at City Barbeque, and partly because it is a good excuse to buy a smoker.  A quick look on craigslist revealed that a second-hand cheapo “bullet” smoker could be acquired for next to nothing.  When I showed up to pick up the item, the sellers said “Oh just take it, you don’t have to pay us anything” and shoved my cash aside.  Although a little battered, it was definitely in usable condition.  Knowing I couldn’t risk untested equipment in a high-stakes meal like Thanksgiving, I did a trial run on some turkey legs.  The 20 degree weather was just an added challenge for my new/old smoker.  The turkey turned out delicious - moist, super tender, (almost like pulled pork) and smoky but not overpowering. Here are some pictures of the process.

Fire up the smoker, fueled by charcoal and large hickory chunks.

While the smoker comes up to temperature and the coals mellow, apply dry rub of freshly ground secret herbs and spices.

Meat goes in for about 4 hours in the 215-235 range, until internal temperature reaches 175 for dark meat.

Rest the meat and consume. The meat should have a distinct pinkish color from the smoke.

Culinary Creations, Scott Stuff | 2 Comments »

I know that this picture has already been showcased on our blog, but it’s one of my favorites. Since my mother denied it placement on our family Christmas card, I figured it could use a little more showcasing in order to soothe its ego. Please excuse my self-indulgence.

I am grateful for a husband who provides. (So I don’t have to.)

Well, he doesn’t provide now. But he will. Some day. He will (hopefully) provide much more than I ever could with my degree in education, which is a relief because I’ve decided that I don’t much like being a breadwinner. Nor am I any good at it. I will happily pass on that role to my husband and continue cleaning the kitchen and sweeping the floors, because, honestly, no one demands that I sweep the floors and clean the kitchen for eight hours straight, five days a week. And that, my friends, makes all the difference.

When I married Scott I always felt confident in the fact that he would take care of us. Money would never be an issue (that is once one of us has a full time job again) because he would provide. My confidence in Scott has been reaffirmed with our recent job hunt.

It seems that ever since we’ve been married I’ve been on a perpetual job hunt. This has further solidified my desire to sweep floors—no one requires a resume, interview, or drug test before you’re allowed to clean your own house. I worked through college. Sought a job after graduation. Spent one glorious year teaching in my dream position. Resigned in order to move to Columbus. Searched frantically to find a job during the summer. Became even more frantic upon arriving in Columbus without a job. Accepted a job with grave reservations. Changed positions halfway through the year. Spent another summer searching once more for a new job. As it is, I currently work in four—yes, that’s four—different jobs. Needless to say, I’m a little sick of hunting for jobs.

With the close of summer, the threat of finding a summer law internship hung over every second year students’ head. You see, summer internships most often lead to a full-time position after graduation. It’s a big deal. A very big deal. I was lucky enough to help Scott hunt for a job. He earned the grades, filled in the resume, and wrote the cover letter (with some editing help from yours truly), but it became my task to compile addresses, print, collate, and mail some one-hundred plus letters of interest to law firms across the nation. I stacked them neatly into our mailbox and breathed a sigh of relief.

Well, it was a short sigh; Scott still had yet to be offered a position.

Over the course of the next month and a half, we were met every day with about seven to eight rejection letters. Little white envelopes chiseled slowly away at our hopes of landing a fantastic job. These were counterbalanced with a few sporadic phone calls and e-mails requesting in-person or phone interviews. All in all, Scott traveled to seven different locations. At each firm he spent a day interviewing with numerous partners, meeting with each one for thirty or so minutes.

As our hopes grew, so did our disappointment. We started to receive the rejection letters from those firms he had already interviewed with. Out of the hundreds we applied to, only one firm—Cox, Smith, Matthews—in San Antonio offered Scott a summer position. This was a position to celebrate; it is the firm Scott was most anxious to work for. They offer the benefits Scott wants, the family life we desire, the salary that makes us sing, and the type of law Scott wants to practice.

While we were happy to accept Cox, Smith’s offer in September, it’s only now that we’ve come to understand how truly fortunate we are. The economy is driving the legal hiring process into the ground. No one—and I mean no one—is receiving offers. In Scott’s class of 200 students, only 25 have currently been offered a position. It is unprecedented to have so few offers. Many of those 25 students, grateful to have any offer, have accepted less than their ideal position. Scott, however, has exactly what he wanted at a very reputable firm.

The thought of our fortune is enough to make me overlook the fact that San Antonio offers little in terms of travel opportunities or changing seasons—at least for now. I’m just glad it was Scott on the job trail and not me. With my track record, he’d have four random, unofficial jobs, but nothing solid. Good thing I’m not the one providing for us over the long haul.

Law School, Lonica Stuff | 2 Comments »