Works For Me Wednesday - Pizza Night with No-Rise Pizza Dough

When my husband was growing up, Friday night was pizza night at his house. And actually even now whenever we are visiting, Friday night is still pizza night! Talk about a long-lasting tradition!

So we have started having pizza on Friday nights at our house. But as much as I love Domino's, I don't want to spend $15. So I started making the pizza from scratch.

I've been playing around with several different dough recipes and this one is by far my favorite because it is a no-rise dough!

Follow these simple directions and you will be making your own pizza in no time!

No-Rise Pizza Dough
1 Tbsp. active dry yeast
1 cup warm water (105-115 degrees F)
1 tsp. sugar
1 tsp. salt
2 Tbsp. vegetable oil
2 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp. basil (optional)
1 tsp. oregano (optional)

Dissolve the yeast in the water. Add the sugar, salt, oil and spices. Gradually add the flour until you have a nice stiff dough. Knead the dough for about 4 minutes.

Roll out the dough and press onto a greased pizza pan. Bake at 450 degrees F. for about 8-10 minutes.

I then take the crust out and cover it until Dan comes home. Sometimes I do this several hours in advance depending on our plans for the afternoon. When I'm ready, I add the toppings and bake for another 10 minutes or so until the cheese has melted and the sauce is bubbling.

Alternately, you can make the dough and top the pizza and then bake all in one step for about 15 minutes until the whole thing is done. I prefer to go ahead and bake the crust earlier in the day, it gives me a little more freedom.

What could be easier than this? Now you can start your own pizza night!

For more Works For Me Wednesday tips, visit Shannon at Rocks in My Dryer.

The good old days.

On Sunday afternoon, I went outside to check on the kids. They were playing with the next door neighbors and things had gotten quiet - a sure sign that something was amiss.

They had been racing through the backyard with wagons and dump trucks and bikes for almost 3 hours. When I found them, they were just quietly milling around.

Peter was muttering and shaking his fists and looking up to the sky and Caleb was looking down and kicking up loose dirt with his feet.

They looked like two old farmers who had finally given up on their crops and were mad at God for not sending more rain.

I asked what they were doing and Peter replied, "We're mad! We want to old days back!"

The old days? Bottles, diapers, crawling, potty training, I thought. What are they talking about?

"The old days? What do you mean?" I asked trying not to laugh as the dirt was billowing up from their kicks. I even had to duck a few times as their fist shaking was getting mightier and mightier.

"We miss the golf cart and the trampoline."

Ah,yes. The golf cart.

Jacob and Caleb's grandfather brought an old golf cart to their house over the summer and left it for several weeks for them to play with. The kids would pile into it and do lap after lap after lap around the backyard every afternoon.

I got conflicting reports on the whereabouts of the golf cart. Jacob told me his grandpa took it away because his mom said it was killing the grass. Caleb said he took it away because it needed to be repaired.

I'm not exactly sure where the beloved golf cart went but it disappeared right around the same time the trampoline did.

They all seemed pretty nonchalant about both items when they were initially removed, so I was a little confused as to why all the fist shaking and dirt kicking was going on now, a month and a half later.

But then it hit me. They do miss the trampoline and the golf cart but maybe in their own little way, they were shaking their fists and kicking the dirt because they really miss summer.

They miss staying up late and sleeping late. They miss playing for hours and hours on end. They miss the freedom of summer and the hot sun.

So as the late afternoon sun was casting long shadows, they were trying with all of their five-year-old might to tell summer not to go. And to warn fall that they weren't to be messed with.

Don't try to come around here fall, each fist shake was saying. Stay away cold weather, all the dirt kicking cautioned.

Or maybe they really just miss the golf cart and the trampoline.

Baby Gracie Update - Urgent Prayer Request

Please read Gracie's CaringBridge page.

Gracie's mom, Amanda is asking(begging) for your prayers.

A representative from the hospital ethics committee met with them today and told them that the doctors feel like Gracie is dying and that Todd and Amanda are just prolonging the inevitable.

Please read this update and pray for them.

Miracle Monday

It's Miracle Monday again!

This is a really cool miracle that Laura over at Catholic Teacher Musings wrote about a couple of weeks ago. Was it an angel? You decide!

(This is Laura's story and is taken directly from her site.)

"When I was 19, taking a semester off from college and working downtown, I rode public transportation on most days of the week.

My daily trip included both the Metro rail and the bus, and often meant I would walk home alone from the bus stop at night.

Since my surroundings were quite familiar to me, I never really anticipated danger lurking nearby, but one evening it seemed to be.

Immediately after leaving the bus on this particular night, I walked, as I usually did, by a neatly trimmed row of bushes near a fenced parking lot, and I was startled by the gravelly voice of a disheveled and suspicious looking man on the other side of the bushes.

He said he wanted me to wait for him so he could talk to me; instead I crossed the street and kept my eye on him. I saw him climb into a beat up vehicle, and pull out of the parking lot, driving fast towards my side of the street.

He slowed down, honked, then yelled something angrily out his window, so I panicked and desperately looked for a way out, a car, another pedestrian- anything, but of course as stories like this go- no one seemed to be around that could help me in case serious trouble ensued.

I ran across the main road again and considered venturing up a steep hill and into a nearby church to safety while at the same time I observed him speeding up to a U turn area to come over to my side of the road again. I continued to keep watching him- as he continued to keep watching me.

From what seemed out of nowhere, a cab came crawling along the right lane of the highway, and it stopped; I didn't hail it. It stopped.

The sweet faced driver asked in his musical, Jamaican accent, "Do you need a ride somewhere?"
I gratefully hopped in, ducked down, and told him my address.

Okay, I know this doesn't seem that out of the ordinary, but I lived in the suburbs. Cabs just weren't a regular presence in or around my neighborhood. It was odd. Good odd.

And after this kind driver took me to my home, he said that I didn't have to give him any money for fare. When I insisted, he relented, smiled, and charged me one dollar. One dollar.

And so you see, though it may give others pause to hear me tell it, I conclude that I came into contact with a special being that day- could have been just a nice man seeing my duress and wanting to be helpful- but I choose to believe it was more than that."

If you have a miracle to share, it's easy to participate.

Just post a miracle on your blog and link it back here using Mr. Linky below. Please mention "A Mom's Life" and my URL in your post. And if you want, you can use the Miracle Monday button in your post as well.

PLEASE NOTE - when linking make sure to link to your Miracle Monday post. Do not link to the front page of your blog. If you have any questions, email me and I will be glad to help you. My email address is in my profile.

Have a great Miracle Monday!

This edition of Miracle Monday is now closed. If you have a miracle you would like to share, please come back next Monday. Thanks!

Save Lori's House

I was blog hopping tonight and ended up reading this story.

It made me sad. It made me want to hug my kids. It made me realize that we don't know what twists and turns our lives might take. It made me want to help Lori.

Please help Lori if you can.

There's a new sheriff in town.

Every Kindergarten class has one.

One child who won't follow the rules, or pay attention to the teacher or cries whenever he doesn't get his way.

It's Kindergarten so it's bound to happen.

But Peter's class has FOUR of these kids who can't (or won't) listen and follow the rules.

And of course, these four kids are ruining it for the other 19 kids who are just trying to learn to read and write and do a little arithmetic.

Peter comes home every day with tales of Timmy who tells the teacher he hates her and doesn't have to listen to her.

Or tales of Sam who screams and cries all day long.

I thought perhaps Peter was exaggerating just a little. But sadly, no. His assessment appears to be right on the mark.

Last Friday, I had lunch with Peter and witnessed little Sam in action.

He screamed as soon as he sat down at the lunch table and screamed through the entire 25 minute lunch period.

The. Entire. Time.

The teacher couldn't get him to stop. The assistant couldn't get him to stop. Two other teachers tried to get him to stop.

Finally the principal was called. She came into the cafeteria and picked him up and carried him out.

He was still crying when she hauled him away.

For the last couple of weeks, Peter will say things like "I hate school!" and "Mommy? Will you home school me?"

Home school you? Kid. That's my Plan C - right after public school doesn't work out and we realize we can't out afford private school.

Home school is not in the plan two weeks into Kindergarten. (And darn those neighbor kids who are filling his mind with sleeping late and having Mommy as the teacher!)

After lots of fretting and hand wringing, I have realized that Peter's dissatisfaction with school has nothing to do with the screamers and the whiners in his class.

His pleas for Home School and No School come when it is time to go in for bath and bed while it is still daylight and when it is time to wake up while it is still dark. The rest of the time, dare I say it, he seems satisfied with school.

But I'm still worried about the quality of his education. Because even the best teacher can't teach when she is spending 80% of her time taking bananas away from 4 unruly and disrespectful kids.

So against my better judgement, when I was at lunch with Peter today, I asked the teacher if there was anything I could do to help her out.

Seems like not only did I volunteer to listen to the kids read, I am now Room Mom.

Timmy and Sam better watch out.

Beware, all who enter here!

Nothing says Welcome To My Home like a brown evergreen.

So much for the "ever" part.

So much for the "green" part for that matter.

If it looks like this on the outside, there's no telling what it's going to look like on the inside!

An artist, I am not.

Yesterday Sarah asked me to color with her. So I sat down and started doodling.

She loves to direct my activities so she told me to draw a princess. And she was going to draw a princess as well.

My art skills are lacking but I tried my best.

Sarah's princess looks so cute and dainty. (Although her earrings are clearly too large for her face!)

My princess, however, looks more like a drag queen.

Check out the large biceps, the wide shoulders and the manly nose. Even the eye shadow and blush appear to be applied with a heavy,unskilled hand.

Sarah took one look at my princess, giggled and said, "She's not very pretty."

I guess I need to put down the crayons and stick to blogging...

Between Friends

Between Friends by Sandra Bell-Lundy





Ha!

I love this comic strip...Between Friends. It's one of my must-reads every morning.

And I love that today's strip is talking about blogging and clearly, they are referring to Dooce.

I have dreams of making money at blogging some day. But $40,000 a month?

I think $400 a month would be nice...just enough to cover the groceries and a pedicure here or there.

The creator of the comic strip, Sandra Bell-Lundy, also has a blog. She's as funny on her blog as she is in her comic strip.

And please note that she has Dooce in her sidebar.

That darn Dooce is everywhere...but I guess that's the only way you are going to make $40,000 a month blogging.


Sandra...any chance you would put me on your sidebar or at least click on a couple of my ads?

Because apparently, I could use an extra pedicure or two...