This past weekend we went to several yard sales. We don't go very often, and this weekend was the reason why. We had planned on looking for some end wrenches for Jon to use in a project he is doing. Instead, we found a lot of things we did not need. Do we really need three sets of darts with real feathers? Granted, they are real feathers, and we do have a dart board, but no on has thrown anything at it - dart or otherwise - for at least a year. I did get a few good things, like a lamp for my office and a few necklaces.

All the yard sale shopping led us to the conclusion that we need to get rid of some stuff, if only to make way for new stuff. So, we are going to have our own yard sale on Saturday. We have already put together a few things, and I think our pile will grow quite a bit as the week goes on.

Yard sales do make me a bit anxious though. I worry our items are not worth what we think they are, or that people will whisper to each other about how ugly things are, or how many weeds we still need to pull out of our flower garden. Pretty much I am worried that the people who come shop at my sale will be yard salers just like me. I try not too judge too much. For one thing, I am just excited to see all the things people have in their houses. For example, at one yard sale we went to they were selling more than 100 tobacco pipes. And for $5 each, they were making a killing. Some of them were really cool with ornate carving or silver handles. It makes you wonder what other things they collect. My mind goes to snuff boxes and even preserved or mummified human lungs. (Can you tell I have been watching that show Oddities?)

We won't be selling anything as unique as that, but if someone is looking for some good summer reading, a bird cage, a wireless Nintendo controller, a small entertainment center or a homebaked cookie (Moira is running a bake sale) then we've got you covered.

I did something this weekend I am not proud of. I let myself be swayed by what can only be categorized as "fair food". I saw a picture on Pinterest of this cookie- this massive cookie within a cookie- and I had to give it a try. I regret it. It's taken me all weekend to recover from the sugar overload of eating just a half of one of these.

I am putting the recipe here, so I can lure others to do what I did, so I don't feel so disgusted with myself. Basically, I am imploring you all to make me feel like I am not the only one who can be mesmerized by the idea of an Oreo cookie baked inside two chocolate chip cookies.

So go ahead, try it.

Super huge, almost spaceshipish, Oreos swallowed by chocolate chip cookies recipe:

• 1 cup shortening

• 1 cup packed light brown sugar

• 1/2 cup granulated sugar

• 2 large eggs

• 2 tablespoon vanilla extract

• 3 cups flour

• 1 teaspoon salt

• 1 teaspoon baking soda

• 1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips

• 1 package Double Stuff Oreo cookies

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

In a large bowl, cream shortening, brown sugar, and granulated sugar together with a mixer until well combined.

Beat in eggs and vanilla.

In medium bowl mix the flour, salt, and baking soda. Slowly add to wet ingredients along with chocolate chips until just combined.

With a cookie scoop, form balls with the dough.

Place one ball on top of an Oreo cookie, and another ball on the bottom. Seal edges together by pressing and cupping in hand until Oreo cookie is fully enclosed with dough- this will be huge (even more so after it is baked).

Place onto parchment-lined or baking sheets and bake cookies for approximately 13 minutes or until golden brown. Let cool for 5 minutes before transferring to cooling rack.

This photo from http://chef-n-training.blogspot.com/

My youngest daughter plays soccer. She has returned to the sport after an unfortunate incident in 2006. During her first game, of her first-ever season playing soccer, she went in as goalie. Then she got hit in the face with a soccer ball. She sat on the sidelines the rest of the game refusing to play. Four years later, she got excited about it again. She is having a blast. Me, not so much.

I had this idea in my head of sitting on the bleachers with other moms talking about our awesome children and not caring that some of us were homemakers and others were career moms. I thought youth soccer would unite us. It started out this way. I learned all the other kid's names and cheered for them as much as I did my own daughter. I spoke with moms about their child's teachers and we chatted about the weather and laughed at the comedy of errors happening on the field.

Last night ruined all of that for me. Last night, I sat next to a woman I have known for a few years. She is a nice person. I like her, but last night just sitting next to her made me feel fat and ugly. She didn't do it on purpose. She owns a local gym in town. She has an amazing body — you should see her calves (she could break a person's neck with them). She was speaking with one of the moms last night — one who I had several pleasant, uneventful conversations with in the past — and mentioned that she broke her foot during a marathon last week. The same marathon she finished — even with broken bones. She went on to say that she could not stand being dormant and not working out so she was going to teach her pilates class anyway and still do a few spinning classes each week.

So, I know what you're thinking — 'So what, she likes to exercise?' That's the problem. Even with a broken foot and in pain, she gets out of bed every morning excited to exercise and stay fit. I, on the other hand, intend on getting up and go running most mornings. Then, I pull the covers over my head, sleep too long and have to rush to get ready for work. While working I proceed to stuff my face with croissants and diet soda (taking the occasional break to make a batch of cookies). Dang that woman. She made me feel guilty. I hate guilt (when it's my own).

So, what is the solution? I suppose I am going to have to actually exercise every day now. I should probably stop eating junk too, but I'll have to ease into it. And next week, I will show up to every game in my track suit, just to show her that I do exercise. Come to think of it, the closest thing I have to a track suit are the sweats I sleep in. I guess that's better for me. I won't even have to get dressed those days. I'll just wear my pajamas/tracksuit right out of bed and to soccer.

I've wanted a KitchenAid stand mixer for a long time, but I can never get myself to spend the money. Last month, the hand mixer I got for my wedding (15 years ago) broke and I was debating whether to a buy a new one or save some money for the real deal. I decided to save money, but in the meantime I also needed something to replace my mixer. I bought the monster of all wooden spoons.

I thought, why not spend some energy doing it the old-fashioned way, right? It has been okay so far—it has built up my upper arm muscles if nothing else. Today, I realized that my fake KitchenAid is a poor substitute for the real thing.

Two words — Molasses Cookies. The recipe makes a huge amount of cookies, but I haven't made them in a year and I just started to add ingredients to my bowl. I creamed the shortening and sugar together using my wooden spoon and it wasn't bad, but then I had to add the molasses, several other ingredients and eight cups of flour. It was so bad my daughters took turns holding the bowl still while I used both hands and all of my strength to mix it. In the end, I ended up finishing it off with my hands (which, if you ask anyone who knows me well, totally grosses me out).


The end result is deliciousness, but I couldn't lift a cup to my lips for the rest of the day. Who needs a gym? Oh wait, I probably should go to the gym to work off these cookies, or I could just make more. It's a vicious cycle.

This picture does not do them justice.