Thrifty Thursday

Patchwork Bird - $1.50, Twig Wreath - $2.00, Hanging Glass Star Candle Holder $5.00

Thrifty Thursdays...a new addition to the blog.  Hausfrau is going to focus on Thrift Store Treasures, Flea Market Finds, and my favorite, Street Treats!

If you ask me about my local thrift shops, I will rattle off their opening days & hours.  I was a trash-picker before it was cool.  My Dad found it rather embarrassing.  He used to claim that it was illegal in our town.  Hah!  Here are examples why I choose to buy second-hand, upcycled, or repurposed goods.

"Luck come in the house, bad luck, get out"!  Translated by my German friend.  Ceramic Plaque $10

Some of the most unique decor in our haus has come rather cheaply, if not free.  Not only is it great for my wallet, but it is also good for Mother Earth.  Keeping things out of landfills is a wonderful source of  inspiration. 

Here is a collection of recent scores:

Milk Glass Easter Chick Cup - 25 cents, Yellow Doily 50 cents

Nepalese Wool Rug $20

European Farmhouse Ladder - a little pricy at $35, but I LOVE it!

Newest Funky chair addition to my Dining room table - 20Euro, (also a bit high).

Entire collection of German Wooden Hearts $1.00

60's School Desk $10.00

I cannot remember the price of either the wall-hanging or the iron candle stand, but they sure make me happy, and fit right in with the wild bathroom we have!

The wonderful thing about Flea Markets - especially in Deutschland, is the photo opportunities. Wonderful scenes appear, everywhere you look.  It is a Photographer's Dream!

LOOK!  My chair made an appearance in the far right of the frame.

That yellow chair in the front is calling out my name!

Fun With Cheerios

                               
http://lets-explore.net/blog/2008/11/cheerio-marshmallow-treats/


Some families do really lovely things with Cheerios.  For instance, they make treats as an alternative to Rice Crispies:
                               

http://www.foodmayhem.com/2008/12/cheerios-marshmallow-treats.html

 Or, they recycle the boxes for nifty crafts, like these beads to make an eco-friendly necklace.




 http://jayfajewellery.blogspot.com/2010/07/recycled-cheerios-box-necklace.html

Not my family.  We, and by we, I mean, mein kinder, play games like stick the Apple Cheerio to the scrotum, for fun.

Two years ago, my husband and I removed several Cheerios from A.M.'s nose, until one was stuck, and irretrievable with tweezers.  Much crying ensued, and nose blowing, and that took care of that annoying habit. 

Lately, the game of choice has become, "put-a-Cheerio-between-each-toe-on-each-foot".  Since my boys are perpetually naked, and since Cheerios are readily available, at any given time on the carpet, the game has evolved.  If I don't vacuum daily, I am afraid that people think I am offering them, or their children a floor snack.  Currently, the copious amount of Cheerios residing in the backseat of my car, is enough to feed a small family in Africa.  Facepalm.

At first glance, I was worried that the Cheerios were entering an orphus.  Luckily, that was not the case.  It would not have been a surprise, as, once, I had to explain to my 3 year old why it was NEVER a good idea to put marbles in one's butt.  Mr. Potatoe Head is allowed to use his arse as a stowaway compartment, not my boys. 

Herzlich Geburtstag!

Happy Birthday, to my stepson, who, today, becomes a teenager.  (Gasp).  It is official, I have known you longer than half of your life, now.  We met, the same day I met your father...a day that changed my life, for the best, forever! 

One of my favorite memories from that summer, was when we were all swimming in Grandmom's pool, and you told Daddy that he was too old to go on dates.  "Dates, were for 17 and 19 year olds".  That he needed a wife, and that, "Rachel, looked good".  My heart melted that I met your approval.

We do not get to spend nearly as much time together as family should, but you are always in our hearts and thoughts.  Watching you grow has been fascinating.  One summer you borrowed my flip-flops, the next, you borrowed your Dad's!  By the next time I see you, you will most likely tower over me. 

When I spoke of an eye twitch that had been aggravating me, for over a week, you informed me that there was no such thing as an iTwitch...iPod, iPad, iTouch, but no iTwitch...I thought you were telling a hilarious joke.  Until I realized that you were serious, which made it even funnier.

Flabergasted by the whipped cream that came on the plate with his, "Rahm Schnitzel".

Now I see where your brothers get their, "Danger Boy", antics from.  Awesome.

Thanks for being you.
Love,
Your Step-Mom,
Rachel

MESSY MONDAY - Mr. Potatoe Head Style

Mess should be a middle name in our family...rather than Michael, Mary, Mathias, or Macon.  It seems as though we have mastered the art of making a mess.   As best as I can, I try to stifle my inner control freak, and embrace the mess.  We make HUGE messes, (when no one else is looking).  Thank goodness we live in Germany, so we aren't getting a lot of drop-in guests.  Often I look around, and think, "WOW!  If anyone saw this haus right now, they would call Child Protective Services on me". 

This week, I chose to focus on Mr. Potatoe Head, because he spent the most time on our carpet.  Repeatedly, he was found on the floor, nanoseconds after he had been put away. My children love dumping playing with him.  Besides, I did not document the questionably colored poop on my Preschooler's foot and the foot stool this morning, because I was too busy throwing up in my mouth a little cleaning up.

When we owned one Mr. Potatoe Head, I would go insane looking for a missing arm, in a crowded apartment...for days on end.  When I found the missing piece, I felt empowered.  Seriously.  Sick, right?  Don't even get me started on puzzles.  In an attempt to cure myself of this twisted fanaticism,  aka - OCD, I purchased an alphabet puzzle from the thrift store with a missing Z.  What was I thinking? 

My MIL went to Disney World, and filled a box, (that wouldn't shut), with Mr. Potatoe Head parts for $20.  That night, when she went to play with him in the privacy of her hotel room, she realized that she did not buy any shoes or hats.  So she went back the next day and filled another box.  Thanks to her, I have 9874162783641829374 limbs, noses, feet, mouths, eyes, ears & accessories.  So I no longer need to obsess about a missing purse or mustache.  Now, I can spend my time obsessing about more important things, like my childrens' boogers.  Wait, I just noticed that we only have one green Mrs. Potatoe Head earring.

One more thing...everytime my 3 year old tells me he is going to stuff a lot of things into Mr. Potatoe Head's heiney, it makes the 47 times I picked up each and every single piece soooooooooooooo worth it.  Heehee.

Hand Stamped Tea Towels Craft

Hand-Stamped Tea Towels - a fun, simple, & inexpensive craft, for Moms & Preschoolers to create together.

Take a tea towel, stamp with fruit, stamps, hands, whatever you desire.  I use acrylic paint rather than fabric paint.  Acrylic paint is cheaper, and frankly, I have an abundance of it.  The way to make it permanent is to heat set it before washing.  This can be done by either ironing it, (under a protective piece of fabric or towel), or to throw it in the dryer for 10 minutes on high heat...(my preferred method)!

 Squeeze out a generous amount of paint onto a plate, wax paper, or a piece of acrylic.  Spread the paint out a bit, creating an even stamping surface.  Use a protective barrier underneath, as some paint may soak through the towel, onto your surface.  Cardboard, newspaper, wax paper are all suitable options.  Be sure to adequately & evenly cover the surface of your stamp with paint.   Foam stamps work particularly well. Press firmly, and gently peel the stamp away from the fabric for a clean image.  If you aren't pleased with the coverage...or one of your stamps turns out to be a doozy...you can go back in with a paint brush and touch up any problem areas.

The sky is the limit, you can decorate clothing, curtains, pillow cases, aprons...your options are unlimited.  We have an apron that I started collecting hand prints on.  It is a fun place to capture the size of their growing hands.  Their name is written along with their age & the date, in permanent marker.  When they are men, and I am a Grandmother, (hopefully), I can show my grandbabies that their Daddies were once little boys while I am wearing my special apron.

Note:  Do not turn your back for a minute, especially after Preschooler has already had a bath for putting paint in his hair.  Be sure your camera is handy!

Bad Influence

What kind of mother am I? I took my kids to a bar one spring morning.  It wasn't even noon, and we were whooping it up in a small, stale-cigarette-smelling-old-German-man-bar.  Except that the Germans don't say the word bar, they say pub - apparently, bar means strip club, my husband (an MP), once informed me.  Although, there WAS, some table dancing, going on, and I am embarrassed proud to say, that both of my boys put on a fine show for the barmaid.  They remained standing on their chairs, shaking their stuff,  rather than on top of the tables, and no tips were exchanged...

F.M. Doing what he does best...Table Dancing.

We were quite the spectacle...double stroller and all.  At a certain point, A.M.'s shirt came off, (surprise), and I thought one of the Herren was going to have a heart attack. There were weiswurst (white sausages), soft-pretzels, french fries, loud music, coca-cola, and apple spritzers.  A.M. wanted chips, that is where I drew the line, "No potatoe crisps for breakfast".

F.M. was trying to give one of the old men some pointers, on the lotto slot machine that he was playing...the man was trying to give him a sip of beer in exchange.  A.M. managed to dismantle a set of blinds, and all ashtrays and candles were removed from the tables, so that F.M. would stop using them as percussion instruments.  A.M. spotted a fake, mounted deer's head on the wall, and proudly stated, "Mommy, look at the puppy".  Everything my boys did seemed to amuse the Frau of the house.  She spoke excellent English, and told me that she couldn't even imagine a life with so much ACTION in it, all day long, everyday...her exact words...my exact life, in a nutshell. 

I didn't understand a lick of what any of the 5 old men were chuckling about, but I think it is fairly safe to assume that the toddler set are not regulars at this hole-in-the-wall-bier-joint.  I wished that I had brought my camera, because A.M., demanded to sit at his own table, (already embarrassed by being with his Mom, I suppose), was a real hoot drinking Apfel Schorle out of a large glass, (no sippy cups available), without spilling.  He liked it so much, that he wanted to take the half-full glass and the soggy paper coaster, home to his haus.  One of my little cleptomaniacs managed to pilfer a set of forged, rather rustic and heavy, cutlery into the diaper bag.  This was not discovered until we arrived at home.  I thought about keeping it as a funny souvenir, or for Hubby to use at work...but then that would be stealing, and what would I be teaching my children?  Taking them to a bar is one thing, swiping silverware is quite another!

At this point in the story, you may be wondering why, exactly, I took them to this watering hole in the first place.  It's down the street from the Auspuff Stein, (mechanic), and we had a 3 hour wait, and their lobby had a lit fireplace, and a pond...yes, a pond, in it.  I figured the bar was the safer option of the two, considering A.M. came dangerously close to falling in/jumping in, to their rather large OUTDOOR pond.  I was busy fiddling with something when the receptionist pointed that out to me.  "Danke", I replied, "I really don't feel like fishing him out of the freezing cold water", "NOR I", stated the Frau.  Much to my dismay, my boys are always flirting with disaster.  Keeps it real I suppose.

We wrapped things up at the pub, and I made sure to leave an abundant tip.  We did drive back a few days later to return the stolen goods.  They were not open, so I "planted" the knife and fork upright in the flower box, perched on the window sill, directly next to the door.  I figured that might add a little spice or bewilderment, to someone's morning, upon opening the joint.  Similar to the morning a mutter (mother)brought her 2 kinder in for some softdrinks and sausages!

You scream, I scream, we all scream for ice cream!

Ridiculously fun summertime, family activity...making homemade ice cream. Several Christmases ago we purchased ice cream making balls for 2 families that were on our list. L.L. Bean sells ice cream making balls in a variety of bright colors, in their camping gear. I wanted to purchase one for our family, but at $49.99 plus shipping, I couldn't justify the expense. Recently, I came across a barely used hot pink,  "Happy Camper", ice cream making ball at the thrift store for 4 bucks! Talk about a steal. LOVE thrift shopping!

We are spending our vacation at home sharing quality time with husband's 12 year old son, from a previous marriage. This was the perfect vehicle for creating gobs of fun, as well as scrumptious ice cream, inexpensively, in the comfort of our own home! YAY!

We decided to start out simple, with a basic vanilla ice cream, to go with our freshly baked apple crisp for dessert. First step was to fill the one end with ice cubes and rock salt. We live in Germany, and do not have much freezer space...so sadly, we filled it up about halfway. Next, we were instructed to fill the innermost compartment on the opposite end, with tasty ingredients listed in the recipe book, such as cream, sugar, and vanilla extract.

U.S. Forces Dairy Products...the only  heavy cream the Military Commissary sells...cracks me up.

Beforehand, I measured out some of the ingredients for 3 year old to pour in to the ball himself. Then I taught 12 year old how to properly measure out liquid ingredients, as well as dry ingredients with measuring cups and spoons. He has taken a real interest in cooking this summer, so this was a fantastic way to involve him in the process. A.M., our 3 year old, was giddy with enthusiasm, shouting, "making ice cream, we're making ice cream", all the while...except that he pronounces it "I Cream", which makes it even cuter.

On to the shaking! The recipe required us to, "have a ball", for 15 minutes. Shaking, rolling, tossing, running, etc, then to open up the ice cream chamber to check the progress, and push the already frozen ice cream that clung to the sides, down into the center, with a wooden spoon....check. Dump out any water and reload with fresh ice and a wee bit more ice cream salt. Yeah, well more ice was going to be a little bit of a problem, being that we had used up all of our measly 2 trays of ice cubes. Hubby and I both thought at the same time to substitute broken up popsicles. Frankly, I was thrilled to do that, because the dang popsicles have been taking up prime real estate in the freezer, and toddler obsesses about them on a daily basis, wanting them for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

A.M. aggravated that we are using "his" popsicles as ice cubes.

Now for 15 more minutes of craziness with the ball. We spent the majority of the time chasing each other in laps around the couch. This is a nightly event that happens after bath, before bed. Everyone gets involved, including the baby, (who is no longer a baby, but a waddling toddler), and the dog, who playfully nips at your heels or your bum to let you know you are not running fast enough for her standards! It always comes as a shock when she bites one of us, but it doesn't hurt too much, and we usually have a good laugh over it.

Please excuse the missing drawer knob, and laundry on the table.  Things like that drive me bonkers.

Hubby will tell you that he had to do all of the work himself. In reality, he hogged the ball. He claims that no one was being active enough. I would finally get a chance with the ball, and then, one of the kids would steal it from me. The kids would get a little lazy with it after awhile, then Daddy would take over again.

At the end of the 30 active minutes, we were delighted to crack open the ball, and discover homemade vanilla ice cream, the consistency of soft serve.  We spooned it onto our apple crisp, took one bite, and were sold. It was divine, and fun, and simple.

S.B., (12 year old), asked if we could make ice cream every night. We took this as a huge compliment, as he is a tough critic.

Next up...cherry ice cream with hunks of fresh, sweet, black cherries, and Kirsch, (a German cherry liqueur that goes into many desserts). Did you know it is illegal in Germany to call a dessert Black Forest Cake if it has no kirsch in it? Crazy Germans have rules for everything! We will not scrounge for ice this time. Instead, we will buy a bag, so we have more than enough!

Don't fret if you do not have access to one of these fancy-schmancy ice cream making balls. You can achieve the same delicious results with 2 coffee cans, or even 2 ziplock  bags!  Your kids will think you are not only the smartest, but the coolest if you include this in your repertoire of fun! Happy shaking!