Rocky is a Sick Raccoon

Closure

2010-02-05T13:13:00.000-08:00

As I'm sure you've already gathered, I've not made this little web diary a priority of late.

Let me sum up: the first quarter of 2009 was a quarter I'd like to punch in the face.

I'm committed to not feeling this same way about any part of 2010.

With that committment comes a need to reign things in a bit, and when I take stock of what had to give, this blog came out on the losing side of the battle.

Those of you in my life already know how crazed things are around here. As this craze is all good craze from now on, you're all a wonderful part of it anyway! And let me take one last opportunity to thank you in blog form.

To those of you who aren't a part of this craze, auf wiedersehen.

This Explains Everything

2009-10-02T08:42:00.000-07:00

At 4:30 am, we hear Tiny Viking calling "DAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDYYYYY."

Like any normal, sleep-deprived parents, we try to ignore it (what? it wasn't a panicky cry, I promise).

It continues a couple more times, and we decide we can't ignore it any more. Lawnboy gets up to see what he wants, and he says "I go bed, Mommy."

Lawnboy brings him into our bed where he proceeds to wiggle and squirm like a tiny marmocet who has just taken a hit or two of meth. I can't take it any more, this lack of sleep, and I say to Tiny Viking, "Were you sent here by evil insomniac Gypsies???"

He pauses a beat, and then responds "....uh, YEAH!"

I hope those Gypsies are happy with our actual child. I'm sure they're getting a lot of sleep. I won't pursue it legally, mostly because Tiny Viking is so damn cute.

Why We Garden

2009-09-29T17:05:00.000-07:00

Growing up, both our families had a backyard garden. My husband's parents' garden was considerably more substantial than my own parents', but nonetheless, by the time we were five, we both knew a carrot was a miracle that happened underground and that those frozen peas in December were a sorry substitute for what happens in June. In fact, gorging on the peas that were always planted by our woodpile is one of my earliest memories.

When we bought our first house, Lawnboy and I were smart enough to close on it in January, which left just (barely) enough time to dig up some of the grass in the lovely southern-exposed back yard, so we could get the babies in the ground by March and April. We learn as we go, and five years later, we can look back on our garden journal and have been able to improve on what we started. We are no longer "on a break" from our friends the Cabbage Family, we have finally figured out the mysteries of those delicate and delicious plants. We know to rotate everything, and we know that if the tomatoes have blossom end rot, they aren't getting enough calcium.

But why do we keep doing it?

Because sustaining our lives with some dirt and tiny seeds are the closest we could ever get to understanding the meaning of our existence. Because our kids deserve to know that potatoes don't come in mesh bags, and that while onions may rot, leeks are with us all year round. Because every time we watch a seed grow we're reminded of how miraculous and sacred life is. Not just the pumpkin, not our darling baby boys, not the soldiers everywhere, but ALL life. Because it is reassuring to know that we don't have to rely solely on the industrial economy to put food in our mouths. Because there will come a time when our children, or our children's children, might not have a choice in the matter. Because life is about the survival of genes. And we want ours to survive.

Golden Hour by the Lake

2009-09-24T08:23:00.001-07:00

IMG_0248, originally uploaded by lankathi.

Uncle Thane came to visit us in September, and we had a grand time showing him around Seattle. One of our favorite places for a picnic is a little park on Lake Washington, and we were there at the most beautiful time of the day. Fezzik showed Uncle Thane all around our park, and we ended up on the dock enjoying the sunset.

Tiny Viking on Slide

2009-09-21T15:31:00.001-07:00

Long delays! We've been *living* y'all!

Here is the small one at our favorite playground, hamming it up on the syide. Which, in twospeak, means "slide."

More to come real soon - I just configured my flickr account to post directly to the blog, so hopefully that will keep me more motivated to share pics with you.

Pickles!

2009-08-10T07:01:00.000-07:00

I realized that my summer weekends are now a thing of the past. We have two weddings next weekend, and after that we're headed to Montana for a major road trip vacation.

That said, we had a lot of stuff to put up from the garden. The green beans are overwhelming, the cucumbers keep coming, the zucchini is... not quite overwhelming, but I could survive on zucchini alone. I love the stuff. We never have too much.

A weekend full of canning was in order. Here's what we put by (sorry for the lack of pictures, I'll update later).

Seven pounds of scarlet runner beans (canned)
Seven half-pints of blueberry jam
Five half-pints of raspberry jelly
Two quarts of asian-style refrigerator pickles
One quart of half-sours, a fermented dill pickle

This quart-at-a-time pickling is quite convenient. I have never tried to do fermented dill pickles before (our sweet pickles are brined/fermented for 14 days before they are canned). I am excited to see the results. The recipe, from The Joy of Pickling, says that half-sours are "cucumbers still, not pickles - little cucumbers who have died and gone to heaven." I'll let you know our assessment in a week or so.

Pictures

2009-06-16T06:07:00.000-07:00

I'm running out of brains. My only excuses for not posting my usual, pithy entries is that it's been a very crappy spring - broken friendships, grandma's death, having to put down our favorite old cat. By put down, I mean murder (even if it was the kindest thing for him, it still felt like murder).

Anyway, these can speak for themselves for now. And if you haven't already heard, please join us for the Swedish SummeRun - it's going to be held on what would have been my mom's 63rd birthday, and it has been 5 years since her death, so we want a HUGE team this year in her honor. Sign up here.

And now, on with the show! We went for a little walk at the Mima Mounds a couple weekends ago, just after we hit a farm auction (which was more fun than it sounds, at least for me). These mounds are mysterious, and people still don't know how they got here. Some folks say they're a result of glacial melts, some say Native Americans made them, others say pocket gophers (really). Our money is on the glaciers, but what do we know?

Then, for your viewing pleasure, is Fezzik's ATTACK FACE. Click on the picture for a close-up, it's totally worth it. Believe me when I tell you he missed this ball, but the next one was a nice hard line drive. His baseball skills really improved this year, and more importantly, he liked playing. He was a great little hitter! He was one of 2 kids who homered this year, and doggone it, even if it was a result of the other team's incompetence, IT COUNTS. That is all; I'll put my rabid Baseball Mom attitude aside until Fall Ball starts. Thank you.

The Ice Age

2009-06-03T16:19:00.000-07:00

Woke up this morning, on the hottest day in 9 months, to a wee baby with a 101 degree fever.

It's rough trying to work from home when you have a 2-year-old, hot, sweaty kid wanting to be held all day. I am not one to say no to holding my sick baby, either. The not-wearing-pants part is a great benefit on a day like today, 90 degrees in the shade (83 by my laptop...).

So, instead of 8 contiguous hours, I get to break my workday up into little chunks, and work 12 broken up hours.

To tell you the absolute truth, I would much rather have been in the office today, where there is air conditioning. I am a WIMP! When the mercury climbs above 78 I start melting.

We've worked out a complicated compromised schedule for tomorrow, one where Lawnboy gets up even earlier than normal, and I start the day like normal, but come back after dropping off Fezzik at school, and dropping of Tiny Viking the Contagious with his dad before I head to work. Phew!

But air conditioning? Here I come. And I may not wear pants tomorrow either. I'm just warning you.

Busy Week Menu

2009-05-31T21:25:00.001-07:00

We've got after-school stuff going on this week. Here's the menu.

Monday take-out Vietnamese Banh Mi sandwiches (DELICIOUS and $3.25 apiece!)
Tuesday fettucine with peas, shallots and herbs, salad from the garden, wacky cake
Wednesday broccoli and rice casserole, scrambled eggs, spinach salad, strawberry shortcake
Thursday dutch babies, sausages, honeydew melon, raspberries with angel food cake
Friday Empanadas, homemade popsicles (yogurt, blueberries)

Unless our neighbor comes over to barter with halibut for more of our eggs. In that case, all menu bets are off!

Copycat Hike, or How Even Tiny Vikings Idolize Their Big Brothers

2009-05-26T06:32:00.000-07:00

Last weekend was a blast. We hit Folklife to see some amazing belly dancing, we gardened, we dug clams, we started construction of a giant cardboard castle, and yesterday, to top it off, we went for a hike.

We hit the Coal Creek Canyon, which isn't far from our house. At first, we were worried that we'd hear freeway noise the whole way, but as soon as we rounded the first bend, we were enveloped by the sounds and the quiet of the forest. I love living in the Pacific Northwest; the forests here are my idea of heaven.

We only went for just under two miles, but we think that's not bad with a two year old in tow. He ran most of the way, although he got tired at the midpoint and I carried him in the backpack for a while. Most of the time was spent chasing his brother up and down the trail. Everything Fezzik did, Tiny Viking had to try too. Throwing rocks into the creek? Of course! And of course he can throw the big rocks just like his brother. So what if he's just a quarter of Fezzik's age?

What got us rolling, though, was the mimicry. Fezzik missed a shot with his rock, and said "DARN it!" Then Tiny Viking threw his rock, and said "DURR IT!" Fezzik spotted a snail on the trail, Tiny Viking had to stop and tell us all about it. Fezzik booked it up the trail, Tiny Viking followed, arms pumping, saying "bruh-urrrrr, ait up!" (Brother, wait up!).

On the way back down, that snail had been crushed by another hiker. How I love Fezzik's respect for life. We paused at the scene of the crime, Fezzik mourned the death, and Tiny Viking reminded us about how much they both had liked that snail.

We had clam linguine last night for dinner, and while we usually make Fezzik try a bite of any seafood we eat (which happens infrequently, but is always consumed by Fezzik under protest), last night he argued "Mom, I just do not want to eat any living thing." Remembering the sad look on his face when he discovered the crushed snail on our hike, I couldn't argue a case for meat last night. I didn't have it in me. The kid's got morals.

Long Time Gone

2009-05-19T07:02:00.001-07:00

We got back safely from Chicago, and three weeks later, I'm still digesting. Whoa. And, can I just tell you that We Do Not Drink That Much Out Here On The West Coast? Fun, though, even if the weekend is kind of blurry. I vaguely recall naming the trip "Meat-a-palooza." The meat fest started out at Hot Dougs, where I waited in line for 40 minutes to buy a delicious Chicago-style Polish Sausage, all the while refraining from buying a meat-themed t-shirt for my vegetarian husband. Self control! And it ended at Hamburger Mary's, where I had a (what else?) delicious, delicious cheeseburger. MMMMMMMmmm, meat! And I'd like to publicly thank my very generous sister, who was a great hostess. Thanks for letting us invade your space!

I did try rum again, for the first time since that unfortunate incident on my roof when I was 18. I was assured by my sister that this was no ordinary rum we were drinking, but a special, barf-proof, caramel flavored Belizean rum, which she and her boyfriend discovered on their trip to Belize. And you know what? She was right! Delicious!

And the jury is in: I officially like my sister's boyfriend. He's a genuine nice guy! He's funny! He's smart! What more could I ask for? Not much, in my estimation.

My friend Nicole, who now lives in Madison, WI, ventured down to visit us. What fun! We all crammed into my sister's room for a sleepover, and it kind of felt like old times, minus the uncomfortable hide-a-bed bars in our backs.

Sidenote: Nicole and I went to camp together every summer between the ages of 10 and 17. We had a small group of friends who went with us each year, and while Nicole and I caught up in Chicago, we came to the conclusion that the time was ripe for a Camp Cornet reunion. Las Vegas, here we come, this October!

In other, sadder news, my amazing grandma passed away on May 5. While it wasn't expected the way it was when my mom died, it wasn't a complete shocker either. She was tiny and frail and it's ok. I miss her to bits and pieces, but I'm really glad she's not in pain any more. My dad, his sister, Lawnboy and I were all there with her when she died, and it was pretty peaceful. I'm glad we got to be there with her when it happened.

There are more updates but at the moment, Tiny Viking and Fezzik need to get ready for school and daycare. And I should probably think about getting ready for work.

I'll leave you with a yummy spring recipe. We gobbled this up on Sunday night and it's definitely going into heavy rotation for a while. The herbs came from our garden, but our peas aren't quite ready yet. In about a month or so, all the vegetables will come from our garden, including the shallots!

Spring Fettucine with Peas and Fresh Herbs
adapted from Real Simple magazine
1 lb dry fettucine
2 c. fresh shelled peas
2 T. olive oil
6 shallots, about 1/2 cup
1/2 c. fresh Italian parsley, coarsely chopped
1/4 c. fresh mint leaves, finely chopped
2 T. fresh chives, finely chopped
1/4 c. Parmesan cheese (or Grana Padano, or pecorino)
salt & pepper

Cook the fettucine in very salty water until almost al dente. Add the peas and cook for 1 -2 minutes more. Reserve 1/2 c. of the pasta water, then drain and return the fettucine to the pot.

While the pasta cooks, heat the olive oil in a skillet over medium heat, then add the shallots and salt and pepper, and sautee until soft but not browned.

Add the shallots to the pasta, then add the herbs and cheese and stir gently. Serve it all up and chow down!

We're Off to See the Wizard

2009-04-23T10:00:00.000-07:00

Not really. My dad bought me a plane ticket to Chicago for my birthday, and I head to my sister's fair city tomorrow morning!

It seems she's planned a week's worth of eating into 4 days, but who am I to complain about that?

Also, my dearest dear darling friend Nicole is coming down from Madison to visit. Bonus!

Hijinks will ensue, I promise! We've an agenda full of things you can't do with two little vegetarian boys in tow - Whirlyball, a musical, and steakhouses, not to mention uninterrupted sleep. Possibly a walking tour of the city, too, although it's a bit early in the season for that.

Newest Member of the Household

2009-04-20T19:10:00.001-07:00

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you CASSIOPEIA, the cutest house rabbit you've ever seen. In your lives. Warning: these pictures may cause you to die of cuteness. She's CUTE, I tell you!

See?

Are you still alive? Really? You didn't die from the cuteness? Huh.

We're going to call her Cassie for short. Why Cassiopeia? 1. Because it's my favorite constellation, 2. Because getting her was my idea, and therefore naming her is my right, and 3. Because all mammal pets in our house must, apparently, have a name that starts with the letter "c."

The intent was to go to the Humane Society with my friends Jessica and Kate and procure a timeshare rabbit, but they chickened out. This little baby is ALL MINE.

She appears to be a rex, with the short, short, velveteen fur that I'm so fond of. If she were longer-furred, I'd consider spinning the fur and making angora socks, but that's a little while down the road for me. She's 6 months old, and has been hand raised, and loves to be held and petted.

Oh my god, y'all, she's so cute. I'm going to go play with her now, and really, how could you blame me???

A Sad Few Weeks

2009-04-13T07:57:00.000-07:00

Warning: this one's a downer!

It has been a rough few weeks. The highlights (lowlights?), in no particular order:

My 91-year-old great aunt went into the hospital for a bowel obstruction, but now has pneumonia and doesn't want to be treated for it. We don't think she'll make it, and she keeps talking about how she's so tired of living. Which is totally her right, but just sad because we'll miss her.

I "had words" with a dear friend's wife and now it appears that the friendship is over...? There has been no final word on the matter, which is rough. I don't even know what to say about this, other than I'm absolutely devastated.

Our dear old Charlie cat started acting all weird, lethargic and drooley, and we took him to the vet and found out that he either has an abscessed tooth or a tumor, in addition to a thyroid problem and a heart murmur, and requires (expensive) surgery, and because of his heart murmur he may not recover from the anesthesia.

The silver lining:
My sister came to town to see our great aunt. She was here for a bonus week, and it was really wonderful to see her.

That's it, for now.

Fezzik's Spring Adventures, Wherein We Almost Freeze to Death

2009-03-31T07:30:00.000-07:00

I ran into Fezzik's last baseball coach at work a few weeks back. He asked me if Fezzik would be playing ball again this year, and I had to tell him I had no idea.

At the end of the season last year, Fezzik was convinced that he would never take another swing at a baseball as long as he lived. It didn't occur to us to ask him during registration this year if he wanted to play again. He was adamant last year. Because he complained and fought with us about going to practice and games last year, we didn't have the heart to argue with him.

After I saw Coach Mike, I asked Fezzik, in passing, if he had changed his mind about baseball. Would you maybe like to play again this year? The answer was an immediate and resounding "YES!" I emailed the league to find a spot for him and he was assigned to the Rockies. I asked him again if he was sure he wanted to play, and he was still enthusiastic about it.

First game was last night, and despite his lineage and the fact that we haven't played catch or had any batting practice since June of last year, the kid is a bit of a jock. The first time up to bat, he hit a foul ball (contact!) on the first swing, and the second ball that came his way was quickly turned into a line drive right down the third base line. Base hit - way to go kiddo!

He was also excited and distracted by his friends from his old school. I haven't put much effort in keeping in contact with his friends from last year - it's time to change that, especially since they all live in our neighborhood.

I'm glad he's excited to play again. It helps his motivation that he remembered how to hit the ball, too. Even though we froze our asses off while he played, it was a very fun night.

On the Cheap and Green

2009-03-25T10:35:00.001-07:00

We tend to spend a lot of money on food. One of the ways we've been trying to whittle our budget down is by planning our meals.

Meal planning allows us to have a better grasp of what we will need, it helps us to plan to use up foods more efficiently (e.g. before the sour cream turns on us); it saves time - we don't grocery shop nearly as often as we used to, and we don't get home from work hungry, worrying about what to cook. The best benefit is that we've been able to cut back on the "I'm bored with my choices - let's eat out" nights in a significant way. We eat out at least 50% less than we used to. That adds up.

Each weekend, we take 10 minutes to rummage through the cupboards and freezer, and we sit down and plan out what we'll be eating the following week. We've really cut back on what we waste this way, and we're more conscious about using up what we already have.

Win-win!

This week's menu is fairly typical.

Monday: Scrambled eggs with corn & zucchini, corn tortillas, spanish rice and refried beans
Tuesday: Salmon burgers, sweet potato oven-fries, steamed kohlrabi, salad
Wednesday: Spagetti (homemade sauce), salad, broccoli, bread
Thursday: Halibut (from our neighbors' trip to Alaska!), green beans, rice pilaf
Friday: Homemade pizza

Custom-made Cookies

2009-03-15T15:19:00.000-07:00

We have a cafe at work, which doesn't offer up terribly great food, but we eat there from time to time. One thing they do very well is their cookies.

I had a coconut-chocolate chip-macadamia nut cookie there a few weeks ago, and it was delectable. I thought I'd try to replicate it the next time I made cookies.

Fezzik and I did that today. It's not exact, but it's close enough, and the best part is that I used stuff we had in our pantry instead of making an extra trip for macadamia nuts. Admittedly, I think they'd taste better with the macadamia nuts, but in this case, thrift and laziness won.

Kath's Choco-coconut Cookies
adapted from the Ghiradelli Chocolate Chip Cookie recipe

Ingredients
2 1/4 c. flour
1 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt
1 c. butter, room temp
1 c. white sugar (I would use less next time, the standard Tollhouse 3/4 c. would work out just fine)
1 c. brown sugar, packed (again, you could get by with less than this)
2 t. vanilla extract
2 large eggs
2 c. semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 c. chopped walnuts
3/4 c. unsweetened shredded coconut Bob's Red Mill is my favorite)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix the flour, soda and salt together in a small bowl and ignore it until you need it.
Beat the butter with the sugars on medium speed in your Kitchenaid Mixer until light and fluffy. Then keep going a little while longer to be sure. This is the most important step.
Add the vanilla and the eggs (bonus points for using eggs from your backyard flock, like we did!), one at a time, and beat after each just until blended.
Add the flour mixture into the butter mixture and stir until everything is evenly mixed, then add the chocolate chips, walnuts (or macadamias) and coconut and mix again just until combined.
Drop by big tablespoons onto your ungreased cookie sheets and bake for 15 minutes or so, until golden brown. Remove to cool on wire racks, and enjoy a couple while they're still warm!

This One's For Grandma

2009-03-05T19:53:00.001-08:00

Not that she's ever seen this side of the "Internets." Grandma told me a story once, about a Mother's Day when my dad was maybe four years old, when his sister came home from grammar school with a fancy class-made Mother's Day present. Dad apparently felt guilty about not having anything to give his mommy, and promptly went into the back garden and dug up some worms. He took them inside and said, in his sweetest voice, "Here, Mommy, I got you a Mother's Day present too." Now, I need to tell you that my grandma is not a lady you'd consider one with a tough constitution. She's, well, I mean this in the nicest sense, a Priss. Not one to get too dirty, my gram; the best one-word adjective I can use to describe her is "lady." What did she do when presented with a handful of worms? She screwed up her courage, stuck her hand out, and took those worms from her Billy boy, and gushed over them just as she had over Mary Anne's gift.

I doubt anyone has ever called me a Lady, and I don't really mind mucking around and getting dirty, but I have a real fear of worms. I don't know when or how it started, but somewhere way back, I developed not just a revulsion to, but an actual (if undiagnosed) phobia of the bastards. They freak me out. If I could control it, I would, believe me. Don't try to rationalize it - I realize I'm not going to be strangled by a nightcrawler. A phobia is defined by Merriam Webster as "an exaggerated usually inexplicable and illogical fear of a particular object, class of objects, or situation." That's exactly what I have. I appreciate worms, and the work they do to break down my kitchen scraps (and everything else), but I'm not going to rescue them out of mud puddles or pick them up and carry them around in my pockets. Ever.

I've been forced, of late, to start facing my fears head-on, like a real grownup.

Tiny Viking developed a fondness for worms in September, when his own very special grandma was visiting and playing in our garden with him. Now, whenever he sees a worm, he calls out in the cutest little voice, "WORRRRMMMM, wORrrmmm!" And, because I am an exceptional parent (cough, cough), I have done my best to not discourage this little (disgusting) habit of his. I even bend over to examine the little wriggly creatures if he notices them in the driveway. I do not want to instill my irrational fears on my children (see how exceptional I am?!). Still, I get the heebie-jeebies every time it happens, I won't lie to you.

Fezzik, at 8, has not developed an aversion to worms either, unfortunately for me. He went out on Tuesday morning to let our chickens out of their coop, and came back into our kitchen with 2 worms in his hand. I took a deep breath and said in my most nonchalant voice, "hey! what'cha got there?"

"Mom, I think I want to start a worm farm."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I want to grow worms and sell them."

"Well. That sounds like a very good plan. I have one rule, though. The worms need to stay outside."

"OK."

"Starting right now."

Lucky for me, he's a very obedient child. He marched his livestock outside and placed him gently in the dirt. Ugh.

New and Notable

2009-02-24T21:56:00.000-08:00

Couple things.

1. I noticed that I have a blog follower that I don't appear to know! Woot! She is apparently a belly dancer too. Hi Crazed Redhead! You can email me! I would love to know more about you! I'm not scary! Although I use too many exclamation points!

2. Speaking of being a Raqstar! I made my first belly dance costume last weekend. It includes but is not limited to gold fringe and amber beads and tiny brass skeleton keys, because they struck my fancy. I wanted to wear it to work on Monday but the 8-year-old talked me out of it.

Is that over-sharing? Most of you who know me should recall that I tend to introduce myself to groups by saying "It's easiest for me to describe myself using this interperetive dance. If you could just clear the way here, I'll get started." And, for those of you who DON'T know me, that was a direct quote from the first staff meeting I attended at the architecture firm where I worked from 1999 - 2001. Yes. Not. Kidding.

Anywhoodle, I think I'm all amped up on the fact that Crazed Redhead likes my blog, and I don't even know her! Hooray for the tiny world, hooray for the interwebs!

Oh! The Amazing Nana Clara!

2009-02-24T21:40:00.000-08:00

I can't get enough of these videos!

Things You'd Prefer Not to Hear When You Color Your Hair

2009-02-24T07:01:00.000-08:00

"Oh. Um. That's unfortunate."

"But I liked your gray hairs."

"Wow, that's...different."

I guess I won't go with the Rosewood color next time... But for the record, I didn't like my gray hairs. And I like this color! At any rate, it's better than the cherry Kool-Aid I used in 10th grade. Trust me on that one. Also, this will wash out in 6 weeks or less, another advantage over the Kool-Aid.

What can I say? I was bored, and in the haircolor aisle.

Still, it's nice to have friends who aren't afraid to be honest.

Frankie Says Relax

2009-02-15T19:09:00.000-08:00

I'm sort of taking the week off this week, and any work I do will be done from home. I had planned to not work at all, but apparently Fezzik's school district doesn't care that their mid-winter break interferes with major deadlines and activities at work.

Things to do this week (not necessarily in this order):

Plant peas and spinach
Re-grout the tile in the kitchen, then seal it
Make a major dump run
Put a bunch of random stuff we don't need on Craigslist and/or Freecycle
Clean the house, spit-spot, in a manner we haven't done in a long time (cobwebs and dust bunnies, consider yourselves warned!)
Put up the trim around the cabinets in the kitchen
Touch up the paint in the kitchen and on the front door
Clean out the chicken coop and replace their straw in the laying boxes
Hit the library, hard
Have my work friends over for a fancy tea (see above, "cleaning")
Knit a freaking pair of socks already!
Go to a really cool whirling dervish/Sufi lecture at Seattle University
Maybe, if we're lucky, go to the Home Show
Take the kids to the park every day
Kick myself, at the end, for not getting everything done

What am I doing wasting time with blogging? I have things to do, people to see, places to go! I'll report back after a successful vacation. Have a good week!

Inside the Crafters Studio

2009-02-11T11:49:00.000-08:00

James Lipton/Inside the Actors' Studio cracks me up. I do like the idea of a formatted interview. Bloggy friends, please feel free to post and answer these questions on your own blogs.

And now, a word from your host:

What is your favorite word? Epiphany. I like how it looks, I like how it's spelled, and I love the definition.
What is your least favorite word? Turd. My mom banned this word from our vocabularies when I was a kid, and I've got to say, that had an impact. I despise this word.
What turns you on creatively? Beauty. Simplicity. The thought of making something for someone I know will appreciate my efforts.
What turns you off creatively? Complications that arise in the middle of a project.
What sound or noise do you love? The quiet of the woods on a camping trip, and my kids' belly laughter.
What sound or noise do you hate? People speaking unkind words about other people. And repetitive small noises, especially in the car.
Who is your favorite hero or heroine in fiction? Hmmm. Maybe Taylor Greer from The Bean Trees.
What craft other than your own would you like to attempt? Pottery. Hands down.
What craft would you not like to do? I don't like fiddly things like scrapbooking and card-making. They're too precious for me. I appreciate folks who have the patience and desire to do them, they are just not for me.
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? "You were wrong about the whole God thing, but we'll take you anyway. Your mom is right this way."

We Pillaged the Beaches

2009-02-09T06:02:00.000-08:00

The clams weren't showing very well yesterday, but we were able to nab about 6 of them. Lucky for us, we have friends who live near the beach, who love to clam dig, but already have a freezerful. They felt sorry for us and gave us their catch, so we didn't drive 6 hours yesterday for only 6 clams.

We left Ocean Shores at about 5:30, and got home at 8:30. Lawnboy put the boys straight to bed, while my dad and I started cleaning the clams. It only took an hour, and we now have enough clams in our freezer for 6 meals - 30 in total.

I think we'll do it again soon.

We're off to Forage for Food

2009-02-07T14:34:00.000-08:00

Today there's a clam tide, which means we're hitting the road and heading west to the ocean beaches with our (new) rubber boots and our (borrowed) clam guns. Clamming combines my love of road trips, beaches, free stuff, food, and family time. How could we go wrong? I'm trying not to think of the sand worms. Sand worms you say? I don't think sand worms exist.

I was planning to use my old rubber boots, but they appear to have been filled with dirt since the last time I used them. That's what I get for leaving them in the garden/construction/Tonka Truck zone. The dirt has since turned into a concrete-like substance, so I'll have to run to Big 5 this morning to buy some new ones.

Have you ever eaten razor clams? They're delicious.

I've been clamming about a zillion times, but the last time we went, my mom was alive, so it's been at least 5 years. It will be a long day, but there's "free" food at the end, and I'm bringing our pirate ship kite. I'm hoping Fezzik will thoroughly enjoy sticking his hands into a wet, mucky, sandy hole to search blindly for an ugly clam, even though he doesn't enjoy eating them.

When my parents lived in England, we brought Fezzik over to visit in September of 2001, and we brought some frozen clams in a small cooler in our luggage as a hostess gift for my mom. Did you know that a Seattle to Manchester flight is long enough to melt frozen razor clams? Long enough for the razor clam juice to drip over the entire contents of your suitcase? We found that out the hard way. Their whole house stunk like razor clams while we were there, and we never did get the stench out of our suitcase.

Well, I'll report back soon with pictures and recipes!

My Response to: Is Circumcision Wrong? | Momversation

2009-02-01T20:28:00.001-08:00

Steel yourselves, you mothers of men. Then, please watch this video, and then, I'll tell you about it.

Is Circumcision Wrong? | Momversation

Posted using ShareThis

Ok. So. Let me just start by saying BLECH.

Thanks.

Now that that's out of the way, I'd like to over share with you, in my usual manner. Both Fezzik and Tiny Viking are circumcised. We are not (in any way) religious. We chose to circumcise our children at birth. In the doc's office. Without ceremony.

And.

I regret the decision.

If I could do it all again, I'd just, well, not do it that way. I would have said "So what?" to the folks who weighed in on the He Must Look Like His Father side. Do they need to have their dad's nose, his hair color (or lack of hair), his shape, to claim the vast inheritance when we die? No, they, do, not.

I wasn't secure enough in this conviction, with either one, to go with my gut. I even think, knowing what I know now, that given the chance, I'd change it even just for my baby, let him keep his skin, even after we'd screwed up his bro.

But I can't. I can't do any of it again.

Do you want to know the worst part, for me? Come on, I know you do.

The worst part is that this decision, the one I'd change, given a second (or third) chance, is quite likely not the worst regret I'll have, parentally-speaking.

Yep, I said it! I'm going to make bigger mistakes (I probably already have), doing more damage, having more impact, than removing my sons' foreskin.

And you know what? It's ok.

The one thing that makes me angry (not just the mildly annoyed that I am throughout most of it), is that no one mentions the word regret in this video. I think it's disgusting that Daphne hurled the word "mutilation" without thinking that she could hurt some really well-intentioned people. I hate that she tries to make up for it later by saying "Well, yeah, but you *thought about it*." But even more, I am mad that they didn't bother to include anyone who had the (ahem) balls to say "Well, I did this, and it was horrible, and I wish I hadn't done it."

We all have regrets. We're allowed to. That's how we learn.

P.s. Daphne? You're a real piece of work. Best of luck to you, lady.

So, incredibly, boring are we.

2009-01-27T19:20:00.000-08:00

This is an attempt to convince you to stick around, as I have grand plans for more postings soon.

I'm sorry, but we've been sick, and, well, boring lately. Not much going on, other than general business. Nothing exciting enough to put up here.

Except the kitchen. The kitchen is ALMOST ready to post the before and after pics, I swear.

And the basketball. Fezzik joined a team and watching 8 year olds run up and down the court for 32 minutes is highly entertaining.

And the transitioning. The Tiny Viking has moved up to the Transition room. He's almost 2! Weep!

Rest assured I have stuff brewing, so if you could just hold please, until I can nail that stuff down, that would be great.

Ooh, and one of the things I'm trying to nail down is muy muy controversial. Dontcha just love a cliff hanger?

Yours,
Kath

Lawnboy, the Interview

2009-01-12T21:59:00.000-08:00

I have not waxed poetic about my husband of almost 12 years in a while. Dudes, I'm the luckiest nerd-girl in the world. Evidence:

What's your favorite book? I'm gonna go with Guns, Germs and Steel.
What's your favorite song? 'Fool's Gold,' The Stone Roses
What's your favorite movie? First one that comes to mind?"Delicatessen"
Television Show? Nova (like father, like son!)
Favorite Smell? In terms of the memories it evokes, the dry-cleaning chemical PERC (dear god, his parents ran a dry-cleaner's when he was a child. we're all going to die of cancer.)
Favorite Taste? Garlic Naan
Favorite Sound? Tiny Viking's jabbering
What's your favorite instrument? Probably the guitar
Favorite Food? Rice
Favorite thing to drink? Wine, tokay (specifically, my dad's)
What's your favorite animal? cat
What's your favorite thing to do (G-rated)? Read
What's your favorite planet? Earth. It has got life on it.
Where's your favorite place to go? Tuscany is the first one that comes to mind.
What's your favorite imaginary place? At the moment, Kwutunga
What the hell is that? That's here, but not. A subset of Cascadia, it's the Puget Sound/Georgia Basin/Juan de Fuca Strait Watersheds.
Where could I learn more about Kwutunga? Only by talking to me, right now. Maybe one day it will be a book.
Why is it called "Kwutunga?" It's a bastardation of the Salish words for land and water.
What makes you nervous? Lots of things. I guess probably talking about things I don't know anything about.
Specific example? Like a job interview. I don't know what the questions are going to be, and I don't know how to answer them.
What makes you happy? My family.
Who do you admire? Ummm, your mom.
What do you want to be when you grow up? Me.
Not who, what? Fezzik and Tiny Viking's dad
You already are that. Pick something else. Something that you're not already. An author, a writer.

Fezzik, the Bio

2009-01-09T06:53:00.000-08:00

At this moment, Fezzik is on the cusp of turning 8 years old. Thought it was a good idea to capture some snippets of his last few days of being 7.

What's your favorite book? Brisingr
What's your favorite song? The first song in our They Might Be Giants cd that's in my thing that wakes me up in the morning (that would be "Birdhouse in Your Soul" from "Dial a Song" disc 1)
What's your favorite movie? Bionicle 2 (really? not "Star Wars?"..."nope.")
Television Show? Nova
Favorite Smell? They way Rocky and Blankie smell
Favorite Taste? ice cream (vanilla)
Favorite Sound? Mom singing bedtime songs
What's your favorite instrument? violin
Favorite thing to do at school? go to the computer lab and have free choice
What's your favorite game? chess
Favorite Food? pizza
Favorite thing to drink? juice (apple)
What's your favorite animal? king cobra
What's your favorite thing to do? go on Club Penguin
What's your favorite planet? Venus, because of its atmosphere - I like its atmosphere. It crushes everything that comes in, really. Pretty fast.
Where's your favorite place to go? New Mexico, because Grandma Kay and Grandpa Dave live there.
What's your favorite imaginary place? On Bionicle, silly, it is my favorite imaginary place, except someone else made it up: The Great Barrier
What makes you nervous? Well, sometimes, monsters in the dark. Being late is one of the scariest things in the world for me.
What makes you happy? Rocky and Blankie; my Bionicles.
Who do you admire? ...(long pause) the only person I admire is already dead. Leonardo da Vinci.
What do you want to be when you grow up? a paleontologist.

Things I Do

2009-01-08T17:20:00.000-08:00

Auctions.

At this one, I'm taking a particular interest in the wooden file cabinets, I think they would replace our old metal "MASH 4077" green ones nicely, given the opportunity.

Also, the small painted chest. There's a neat looking old dresser and nightstand too. We'll see.

Try going to an estate auction in your area. They're completely addictive.

Craftiness

2009-01-07T13:19:00.000-08:00

I may have mentioned (a billion times) before, that I've been obsessively knitting. I had intended to make Lawnboy a hat (FAIL!), slippers for my sister (check!), fingerless gloves for Fezzik (FAIL!), mittens for Tiny Viking (FAIL!), a hat for my sister-in-law (check!), and various and sundry other random accessories for my other beloveds.

Two out of 40 ain't bad, eh?

The knitting-for-profit thing has taken off, though. I did a craft fair at work before the holidays, and was able to sell a handful of hats. Then, I went to my friend's annual ornament exchange party, and since we were broke, I decided to knit my ornament. I made the cutest pair of tiny mittens you've ever seen. So cute, in fact, that they were fought over at the party, and 2 (!) people demanded to buy some from me on the spot. I dutifully went home that weekend and knitted both pair.

That makes me a PROFESSIONAL KNITTER. Don't get me wrong; I have no delusions about knitting for a living (sigh), but DUDE. I SELL STUFF I MAKE. TO STRANGERS. AND THEY LOVE IT.

(NOTE TO SELF: I need to get the leftover baby hats up on my Etsy store before the weather takes a turn for the warm. )

Meanwhile, I'm struggling with what to call my stuff, and how to handle my varying array of stuff I plan to sell there.

What do you think? Should I have a separate shop for each type of obsession? A knit shop, a soap shop, and a vintage shop? Or is it not as weird as I think it is, to have them combined?

2009 Goals

2009-01-02T12:20:00.001-08:00

Well, hello doves! A friend mildly suggested I get cracking on the ol' blog again. The only inspiration I have is my 2009 goals. They are as follows, for your viewing pleasure. Feel free to benchmark me at the end of the year.

Knit a pair of socks each month, alternating between the boys and myself.
Save enough cash to travel to Chicago and New Mexico to see the families, all of whom I love and miss. This means you, Sis. And you, Dave, Kay, Thane and Aleisha, who remain blogless to date.
Cook every recipe in The Indian Vegetarian, up to and including the eggplant ones. This might be the only cookbook in my vast collection from which I've never even tried a recipe. It haunts me.
Blah, blah, blah, pay off the debts we've re-incurred. This one makes my stomach hurt. But I have a new kitchen to show for it! Stomach pain is wearing off now...
Start funding an Emergency Savings Account. This will come in handy should I (conveniently?) get laid off. Which isn't imminent, but you know, it doesn't hurt to have a plan.
Live well within our means this year. We've laid a good foundation for this, with a grocery budget and everything, and the daycare payment is going down by 56 whole dollars next month! It's hard, yo.
Figure out how to be happy about the tiny, but affordable (and completely adequate!) house we have. I'm getting there. Not there yet, and I'm sure it involves more organizing and cleaning than I've grown accustomed to, but let's see if we can get there this year, shall we? Dude, the neighbors have 8 kids in their little house, and if they can do it, I should be able to fit the 4 of us into these 900 square feet without issue.
Play more with the boys. As in, every single day, play.

These are not too head-in-the-clouds goals, don't you think? And all with nary a weight-loss word mentioned!

Happy New Year, all!

A Random Conglomeration of Awesomeness, a.k.a. An Excellent Gift Guide

2008-12-16T16:39:00.001-08:00

Hurry, folks, time's a-wastin'. By my count, there are 5 more days until Hanukkah, 9 to Christmas.

Were you looking for CHEAP-ASS gifts for your beloveds? Ones that say "Even though I can't afford much, I still think you're worthy of cool stuff."? Look no further, here are four sweet deals for under $20, one for under $30 and one for exactly $40 that was too cool to pass up. Not too shabby.

This poster is about the coolest reference material ever made.

Yarn in beautiful colorways for the peacenik in your life.

A "Rad" tee shirt by rad artist Ray Fenwick.

Foxes in Trees.

A pretty little cardinal pendant, featuring my favorite colors.

I don't know about you, but I feel better knowing that you know about this now.

Fay Four: the Sitar

2008-12-04T07:22:00.000-08:00

Not as exotic as a hurdy gurdy, and every Beatles fan on the planet is familiar with it, but who doesn't love a sitar?

This is Anoushka Shenkar, daughter of Ravi Shenkar, who taught George Harrison how to play. She is incredible.

Day Three: The Hurdy Gurdy

2008-12-03T06:49:00.000-08:00

We saw a hurdy gurdy in action at Folklife Festival a few years ago, and I fell in love with it.

I've always been drawn to gypsy music, starting with Bartok's Romanian Dances in 7th grade, with my youth orchestra. There's something so complicated sounding about the hurdy gurdy. I think it's the drone strings.

Close your eyes, and you might mistake it for a bagpipe. If you're not Scottish, I suppose.

Day Two: The OUD

2008-12-02T06:00:00.000-08:00

My belly dance classes have introduced a whole new world of instrumentation into my life. The oud is very impressive.

Theme Week: Exotic Instruments

2008-11-30T19:39:00.000-08:00

Tonight, at dinner, we were (nerdily) listening to a radio program about Nicola Tesla. At some point, there was a theramin theme song. We asked Fezzik if he knew which instrument it was. Negative. We reminded him that he'd played one once, at the Science Center.

He replied, "Am I supposed to remember every exotic instrument I see?"

Yes, Fezzik, yes you are.

I bring you EXOTIC INSTRUMENT WEEK. Don't forget them, these instruments rule the world.

Day 1: Theramin

Project Time

2008-11-23T09:53:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again, when thoughts turn to cheap but meaningful gifts. Using up what I already have is a plus, too.

Spoiler alert: it's rather difficult to make soap with Tiny Viking getting into everything these days.

Knitting projects have their appeal. I have tons of yarn (if not tons, maybe pounds), needles, and there are a million free patterns on the interwebs. I enjoy knitting, the design element, the ability to customize a gift to a loved-one's personality. And most people appreciate the time and effort put into it (and non-knitters are sufficiently amazed by my skills), so it pays off. I wonder if it's a bit hokey, though, and if the actual item is appreciated as much as the sentiment, or in equal relation to the efforts I put into creating it.

I just finished a headband for my friend Heidi's (belated) birthday. It only took about an hour and a half to make. Then I came home from her brunch, and swiftly made my friend Jessica one that she can use for a wedding headband, if she wishes. Then, after I finished that one, I started on a hat for Fezzik. I finished the hat this morning. Now it's time to find a pattern and start one for Tiny Viking. This is appealing, I must say, but perhaps a bit too difficult for this time of year. And, well, it is ridiculous.

Lawnboy's ever-more hairless pate is in need of a nice forest green watchcap, too. Yarn has been procured, all that's left is finding the right pattern.

I know I'm crazy, and what's worse is that these are just the ones I could mention; there are a dozen or so more ideas floating in my head, what to make for my friends. We'll see if I get my shit together in time to pull them all off. Don't hold your breath.

The Never-ending Coral Maze

2008-11-21T10:16:00.000-08:00

This post is for Brooks and Dave; I hope you already have tickets, dudes:

http://www.phish.com/news/index.php?year=2008#story409

Timing is Everything

2008-11-18T20:29:00.000-08:00

Heh. Right, so the whole family has been running on empty for about a week. I'm exhausted, and I don't know why. I think it's me fighting off the flu (and succeeding, dammit!), but today Lawnboy asked me if I thought I might be, you know, maybe, pregnant?

WHAT THE EFF?! Oh hell no. Lawnboy, have you blocked that trip we took to Dr. Snip? Because even though they weren't my vas deferens, I remember it. Don't get teste with me. (Oh god, I can't believe I just wrote that. It's staying, though. I love puns. Especially dorky ones like "teste.")

Well, this whole post is way more than you needed to know, so I think I'll just keep on going. Here's the deal, the secret behind that question: Dr. Snip told Lawnboy that he doesn't have a green light yet. Something went wrong with that surgery. And he might have to repeat the whole procedure.

If there's one thing that trying to get pregnant for two-and-a-half years taught me, that thing is timing. It's everything. And, since there are only a few live swimmers in any given "deposit" (I'm so sorry, there's no delicate way to put it, and please rest assured I'm blushing right now, prude that I am), we've been mostly careful since his surgery, so the odds are slim to none, so don't get your hopes up.

Although, there's a sick, sick part of me who would really enjoy having another baby in the house. Tiny Viking is not a little baby any more, and holding our friends' baby Sadie last weekend reminded me that I might have agreed to the vasectomy a little too soon. Not that we could afford another child. That's another post in itself, although I'm sure most of you can relate. However, two in daycare almost completely mitigate my salary, so perhaps it's not such a terrible accident after all. Perhaps I'm not hoping I'm fighting the flu. PERHAPS I REALLY AM PREGNANT!

Whoa, is that hormones? Was I just yelling at my audience?!? Time to get an EPT.

Chronic Overachiever

2008-11-11T22:42:00.000-08:00

In my endless quest for attention, I've ventured into the world of online craft and vintage crap sales.

Hooray for the internets, and hooray for me!

I need a better camera, obviously, but that will have to wait for a while. Until, you know, we pay off the kitchen remodel. Unless anyone out there has a Canon EOS Rebel they want to get rid of. Anyone? Anyone? Email me & I'll send you our home address...

So, anywhoodle, go here and buy my thing. There are more things to come. But as you know, I'm busy, so please be patient.

The Shiner

2008-11-05T17:58:00.000-08:00

My boys have not yet broken any bones, or required any stitches. Before yesterday, in my 8+ years as a parent, I'd only been to the emergency room once, for pneumonia when Fezzik was about 2.

I'm not a freaker-outer, so there may have been instances in past that could have been borderline E.R. material. But my usual routine is to slap some hydrogen peroxide (or magic bubbles) and a bandage on their owies and call it good.

Yesterday, while I was in a meeting (at the job that pays me to stay there and do stuff), I got a call on my cell phone from Tiny Viking's teacher. I knew it would be bad when I saw the caller ID, because they NEVER chase me down on my cell phone. I excused myself from the meeting and picked up the call, and found out that Tiny Viking had hit his face on a window sill and required my attention. Immediately.

These are the moments in which I'm glad we pay and arm and a leg to have him onsite at my work. I was able to run to his class and get there while he was still crying. He had a cold wash cloth on his face, and whimpered when I reached out for him. I pulled the wash cloth back to see the damage, and I knew that it wasn't great. Head wounds bleed, y'all. A lot.

After I saw that the cut was pretty deep, I decided to err on the side of caution this time, and take him to the hospital. I felt a little silly, because there were no protruding bones or hanging body parts, but still.

Do you know that they super glue now, instead of stitching? It's so cool! They washed it out, and glued his face back together, and all he has is a little owie and a shiner now. Very dangerous, very mysterious. See?

Victory is Ours!

2008-11-04T22:22:00.000-08:00

Oh happy day!

How Not To Parent

2008-11-03T15:11:00.001-08:00

The budget doesn't have room in it for studio portraits of the boys in their (ADORABLE! CREATIVE! MOSTLY HOME MADE!) Halloween costumes, but do you think I could take a damn picture with MY OWN CAMERA? Nope.

Not of both of them, anyway.

I did capture the Tiny Viking in all his precocious glory. This was pre-pillage, so he's not all tuckered out in his stroller like he was when we went trick-or-treating. Fezzik did the door-to-door stuff. I figured we didn't need any more candy, and the small one doesn't know he missed out anyway.

By the way, the small one will henceforth be referred to as TINY VIKING. Because it's cute. And he's Swedish. And he dressed up as a Viking. And it's much, much easier to type than "The Amazing So and So."

Vocab

2008-10-27T20:30:00.000-07:00

Ten old fashioned terms I'd like to bring back into our daily lexicon:

1. Shenanigans (My boys and their shenanigans!)
2. Snazzy (Brooke, that's a snazzy top you have on today!)
3. Razzle-dazzle (This power point is boring. Let's add some razzle-dazzle.)
4. Houligan (Those houligans across the street are up to no good again.)
5. Trousers (These trousers are tight on me!)
6. Scram (Here comes Steve, we'd better scram.)
7. Meat hooks (Get your meat-hooks off of me!)
8. Unmentionables (I washed my husband's unmentionables with my red shirt, and now they're all pink.)
9. Davenport (Let me move the cat so you can sit down on the davenport.)
10. Drainboard (I left the banana bread out on the drainboad; help yourself.)

Halloween at the Zoo

2008-10-26T07:43:00.000-07:00

We went to the zoo last night for the Pumpkin Prowl, and it was dark and scary for Fezzik, but fun for the rest of us!

We saw this fantastic acrobatics troupe from Portland, Kazüm, performing to The B-52's "Planet Claire." It was amazing.

And the Youth Company from SANCA. No video, but they juggled glowing balls in the dark, and jumped rope (sometimes while juggling). These kids were so composed, even when they missed. I'm always in awe of folks who can pick up and run with it after a snafu, without a hint of poor showmanship. This is the place where we'll take The Amazing So and So for acrobatics classes once he turns two.

Winter Squash Obsession

2008-10-24T08:55:00.000-07:00

This is the best thing I've ever done with a butternut squash. The sweetness of the squash melded perfectly with the roasted garlic. It sounds weird, I know, but if you like squash, you won't be disappointed. This recipe will serve 6 as a side dish, pretty easily.

2 or 3 lbs dry winter squash (Butternut, Blue Hubbard or Kabocha would work well. Use any dry squash, but not acorn or Delicata - they're too wet and won't caramelize enough when you roast it)
6 big cloves of garlic
1/4 c. flour
1/4 c. olive oil
Salt, pepper
Preheat oven to 325

1. Peel and gut the squash, then cut it into tiny, 1/3 inch cubes. You can be lazy and cut the cubes bigger, but the extra caramelization that happens when you cut it into teeny tiny cubes is worth every knife stroke. Trust me.
2. Peel and roughly chop the garlic. You can use more if you are trying to ward off vampires, or if you're my friend Anna. I would use more next time, for sure.
3. Place the squash, garlic, flour and salt and pepper in a mixing bowl, and stir it all together.
4. Oil the bottom and sides of a large roasting pan. The biggest you can find. Then dump the squash mixture into the pan and pour the olive oil over the top. You can use more oil if you're not watching your girlish figure. It's good with more.
5. Bake/roast for 2 + hours, until the squash is golden brown all over.
6. Serve. Don't expect leftovers, but if you can't eat it all in one sitting, it's very, very good hotted up the next day too.

Movie Night

2008-10-23T06:52:00.000-07:00

New drink recipe:
1 part Stoli Vanil vodka
2 parts root beer
Serve over ice

Had my three favorite belly dance friends over to watch "The Belly Dancers of Cairo" last night, and we finished off a fifth of vanilla vodka. Yummy!

Good movie, too (I think).

2008-10-22T08:00:00.000-07:00

It's time for another installment of Things I Own and Love.

My Grandma Bonnie's kitchen timer, from the '40's or '50's. It was one of the three items I claimed from her basement after she died a few years ago, along with her pickle crock and her Staffordshire china dog. There is beauty in the timer's simplicity (and its Bakelite hand).

This timer serves us well. We use it for timing such things as hard-boiled eggs, tooth brushing, time-outs (not often), and clean-up blitzes (not often here, either). Most recently we have been using it to time Fezzik's reading sessions, not because we want to make sure he reads the specified homework amount, but because we want him to have enough time to live a little, too. Kiddo never puts down the books.

Except today, when he strapped his calculator to his belt loop and exclaimed "I know it's weird, but I like doing random calculations."

Awesome Decorating Tip # 42

2008-10-21T16:32:00.000-07:00

I'm no Martha Stewart. But every now and then, I come up with a good homemaking idea.

Also, Halloween is my favorite holiday without presents.

And I like to outfit my home very creepily for this occasion.

This year, to build on the interior creepiness, including my handmade shredded muslin curtains, I've decided to print out old photos, portraits, dageurrotypes, and silhouettes, replacing my usual pictures and prints.

I've found some awesome images online, Victorian funeral portraits and antique autopsy photos. These are too gross even for me. But I really like the idea. You out there, yes, you, without the 7-year-old, feel free to make giant autopsy prints.

Most Important Thing I've Done All Year

2008-10-20T22:04:00.001-07:00

Values

2008-10-18T15:17:00.000-07:00

Overheard at the playground this morning:

Mom 1: You're a shining example. A single mom, with two kids, and no job, yet your kids are still dressed to the nines.
Mom 2: It isn't easy, but I do try to dress them really well. Nordstrom, Baby Gap, you know.
Mom 1: You do a great job of it.

Me (in my head): what does that make me? I'm a married mom, with two kids and a great job. Even so, my kids' wardrobes are about 75% thrifted. Right, that makes me smart.

Please Use Your Earphones

2008-10-16T20:03:00.000-07:00

Actual Conversation With My 89-Year-Old Grandma

2008-10-13T10:59:00.000-07:00

I love my grandma. This will scratch at the surface of how cute she is. [By the way, she's a died-in-the-wool republican; I try not to hold it against her.]

Me: So, Gram, who are you voting for this year?
Gram: Well, I just don't know.
Me: What do you think?
Gram: I think I like O-bah-na [sic]
Me: Yeah? Me too.
Gram: I heard O-banna is a Hindu.
Me: I'm pretty sure he's a Christian, Grandma. [in my head, I'm screaming: NOT THAT IT MATTERS]
Gram: Oh really? I heard he was one of those Muslim.
Me: No, he has been a member of a Christian church in Chicago for years.
Gram: Oh, that's good. I really don't like that MacLaine, though. I just can't stand that MacLaine.
Me: Yeah, me neither. I don't like that MacLaine...

Sunday Afternoon Boys

2008-10-12T13:05:00.000-07:00

The Dark Knight on a Dark Night

2008-10-12T07:50:00.000-07:00

Are you sitting down? Lawnboy and I went on a date last night. Without the boys!

We dropped the kiddies off at my auntie's house, and Fezzik got to ride a motorcycle with his Uncle Otter. He was terrified and even tried to put off the ride, but he came back with a grin from ear to ear, and exclaimed "This was the most fun I've ever had in my entire life!" Yeah, forget taking him to Italy, or Disneyland, a 10 minute ride on a Gold Wing wins. Whatevs.

Lawnboy and I had intended to grab a quick bite to eat and go see "Burn After Reading," but the quick bite took longer than we anticipated, so we were late. The Indian food was worth it, though. We rolled up to the cinema and saw that "The Dark Knight" was playing in 10 minutes, so tickets were procured and we saw the first grown-up movie we've seen in a long time. I can't remember the last.

I'm not a movie buff, but I know my pop culture trivia, and I've heard people bantering the words "Oscar-worthy" about, in reference to Heath Ledger's Joker performance. I was skeptical, chalking most of the rave reviews up to his death, but he did a fantastic job as a deeply scary villain. Aaron Eckhart is great too, as Harvey Dent. Did you see him in "Thank You For Smoking?" If not, you should.

I've enjoyed many a graphic novel, but I am not a huge comic nerd. I like Batman because he has a real story. It's not random, what he does. There's more feeling to it, and it's more real. He's not super-human. I guess I like the realism.

The Week of the Baby Doll Arms

2008-10-09T19:33:00.000-07:00

I would like to lay it on the line for you right now and say that I don't go in for trends. Remember the movie "Titanic?" I don't, because I never saw it. Were you an early adopter of Capri Pants? It took me a good year before I tried on a pair of those puppies. And right now, I'm giving those stupid open-toed boots the stink-eye. I hope I won't have to go on record next year and tell you I have three pair. Which gets me to my point: I didn't read "The Secret," and I don't think I believe in the Law of Attraction.

However, that doesn't mean I don't appreciate coincidence when it crosses my path.

You know how when you first spot someone new at work, and then it seems like they're following you down every hallway? Or how about when you learn the definition of a new, big word? Shortly thereafter, it's on a billboard you pass on your way to work. And in an email from your company's CEO, and then you hear it on CNN the next day. You know what I'm talking about, right?

Well, this week, this weirdness was manifested in the form of baby doll arms. Suddenly they are everywhere. I told you that I was shopping for a unique rack for my sister's birthday. I hit Etsy to see what cool handcrafted thing I could find, but all that turned up was this.

What the?! Creepy! I sent a picture to Sis to make her laugh, and she asked me to please not send her one.

Then, Saturday night? What should appear before my very eyes, but this?! Awesome, but also extremely creepy!

Enjoy the week of the baby doll arms with me, and please let me know if you run into any yourself!

Sissy's Birthday

2008-10-08T16:33:00.000-07:00

My sister recently unearthed my mother's collection of antique beaded and mesh purses. They were weird to me when my mom was collecting them, but now that she's gone, they're one more thing I have around my house that remind me of her and fill me with good memories.

So, we divided them up among us, and she asked me for some kind of vintage-y display rack for her birthday, to show them off at her house. Mine are boxed up awaiting the right house to display them, and also waiting for my boys to get old enough to trust around them. I don't think the purses would win in a light-saber-vs.-mesh-purse battle. I'm just sayin'.

She found some cute racks at Anthropologie, but they looked mass-produced and, well, common. I thought she and the purses deserved more.

So I got her these.

From here. Aren't they cool? They kind of remind me of coral, but they're really tree branches. Muahahahahaha, it's all a part of my Eeeevil Plan to decorate the world in a woodland theme. For Christmas, she's getting a dead deer. Or something taxidermed.

La Cuisine

2008-10-03T13:25:00.000-07:00

The kitchen is coming along swimmingly. Especially when you consider that the labor is free.

That said, all cabinets are installed. The recycled slate countertop option didn't pan out (more on that next week), so I've been trying my best to find an acceptable substitute.

My dad's realtor was generous enough to give us her wholesale secret code, so when we went to the special tile store, we said a magic word and POOF!, everything was discounted by 25%. I found some porcelain tile that isn't my first choice, but the price is right, it's available for pickup today, and I'll have a working kitchen soon. So I DO NOT CARE if it's not slate. Or recycled. Or an old chalkboard.

The in-laws are behaving quite nicely, I must say. No complaints other than that I have to wear clothes to and from the bathroom whether I want to or not. Oh well.

Sunday is the day I should have a workable kitchen, then in the next 2 weeks, everything will be exactly in place as planned. YIPPEE!!!

Things on Etsy That Freak Me Out

2008-09-30T10:50:00.000-07:00

Doesn't everyone need a miniature felted likeness of their beloved pet?

You still have time to get one before the holidays. Click here to zip on over to this Etsy store!

Unnatural Affinity for Swedish Ingenuity

2008-09-25T07:14:00.000-07:00

Did I tell you we're REMODELING OUR KITCHEN???

YeeHAW! It all starts this week, and I didn't have to stamp my foot (too hard) to get my way.

And let me tell you, my way was THIS SINK:

In preparation, I've been stockpiling food in the freezer, hoarding paper boxes from work, and freaking out at having my in-laws in our tiny house for so long.

Love you guys, I really do, but it's difficult enough sharing a bathroom with my own 3 boys. I hope we're all speaking to each other by the time your plane leaves.

I have chosen, for the sake of my relationship with these beautiful people, to NOT take any vacation time during their visit. Grandma Kay has free reign on playing with Fezzik the whole time she's here, and Lawnboy and Grandpa Dave will be fastidious about the kitchen.

That's the plan, anyway. Before and after pictures to follow, I promise!

Things to do:
1. Donate old cabinets to Habitat for Humanity if they'll take them
2. Unpack current cabinets
3. Everything else

My Preciousssssssssss

2008-09-23T13:49:00.000-07:00

I love these stainless steel bottles from EarthLust. We just shelled out half our grocery budget at Kir De Vries on 3 of these pretties. Aren't they gorgeous? So much better than the same old SIGG bottle!

Fezzik has claimed the owl bottle for his school lunches.

The Amazing So and So has already gummed up the shell bottle.

Lawnboy and I are in negotiations over the crow bottle. I foresee another purchase in the near future, as I just don't do backwash. I like my own bottle. Can't you just see Lawnboy with a tree bottle? Me too.

I went to fill the crow bottle up last night and found a tiny pinhole in it, so I won't be using it any time soon. The shop we bought them from was fantastic, though, and is popping a replacement in the mail tout suite, along with a few free sport lids for our inconvenience!

More of My Two Cents

2008-09-19T07:17:00.000-07:00

Economy. The First World's economy is in the can. That's not new news; I'm aware that I'm not telling you anything you don't already know.

Why, though? And what do we do about it?

Obama's economic plan looks like it will effectively bring us back to where we were before Bush and his cronies screwed us over. However, I don't want this country to be back on that track.

I want a new track. A track that we can sustain. A track with different values. An equitable track, where everyone has what they need, including healthy food, reasonable housing and healthcare, but not much more.

The new track will not rely on oil (foreign or domestic). It will bring our food back to reasonable production - no more industrial food products. Instead Real Food from Real Farmers (and our own back yards) will grace every table, school lunchroom, and restaurant. The track won't allow us to buy new luxury cars every two years, or live in 3,500 square foot houses. It won't allow us to have more things than we need. It will, though, put most of us on equal economic footing.

Our obsession with Stuff is killing us. It's robbing us of our health, and our children of their future. We all need to make a decision right now to stop and move in a new direction.

That's the track I want to be on.

If You're Not Scared, You're Not Paying Attention

2008-09-18T11:54:00.001-07:00

Lawnboy and I were shooting the breeze last night and talking about how just plain terrified we are with the state of our economy.

Short of moving to India (Lawnboy's proposal), I'm not sure if there is anything we can do.

Oh, wait a sec! We could vote. Note, Lawnboy thinks that it's futile at this point. I don't, if you were wondering. I can't think that it's futile. I just can't.

Can't embed this video, but please click on the link.

http://my.barackobama.com/economyvideo

If I had a Tattoo

2008-09-17T22:10:00.000-07:00

I'm way too chicken; senior year in high school, Lawnboy, my BFF Desirae, and I drove down to the booming metropolis of Portland with the intent to get tattoos.

Desirae went first. She got a HUGE tribal design on her forearm. It bled. She was tough, but the tears sprang to her eyes nonetheless. My turn came up, and I wimped out.

Whoooooo, she wasn't happy about that.

Also, Lawnboy was too cheap (and I think he wouldn't mind if I told you he was also scared), and he ended up walking away uninked too.

Truth be told, it wasn't just the pain that freaked me out. It was the permanence. I kept thinking that some day, Desirae would regret that huge black mark on her arm. It didn't have much meaning, which bothered me very much. Flipping through the books of flash in the parlor, something rolled through my head: this decision deserves more thought than I've given it.

Fifteen years later, I think I've found the one thing I know I could live with for the rest of my life. It's irrelevant now, because I wouldn't fritter so much money away on something that isn't that significant to me, but it's pretty, and meaningful, and it would fit the bill if I were to find myself in a similar situation again.

One thing, though. I'd also need a waist. Or some hips. Something to make my back more closely resemble a cello.

Love

2008-09-15T19:49:00.000-07:00

I mentioned that we went to a wedding this weekend.

It was beautiful. Set against a backdrop of the sun setting over the Puget Sound, with Victoria, BC's twinkling lights off in the distance, it was like a picture out of Sunset magazine. There was even a doe grazing in the meadow behind the wedding party.

The wedding wasn't a big to-do, but more meaning-filled than others I've been to, officiated by the groom's best friend, with speeches by the grooms' close friends and family.

Yes, grooms. Two.

Big deal, right? To me, not at all.

But to the two of them, it was a big deal, because they, sadly and ridiculously, aren't able to do this legally in our state (yet).

During the ceremony, I found myself fighting back tears. The tears were because I know these two, I have felt the love they have for each other (trust me, it's palpable), and I know what marriage is like. Watching them watching each other was so sweet that I couldn't help but choke up. I am so excited for them to join into a contract with each other and with the rest of the world, a contract that says "I'm worthy of this guy's love." That's something that has helped me get out of bed some mornings.

One of their friends was sitting directly opposite me during the ceremony. He was weeping without abandon, and we made eye contact a few times during the speeches. I didn't get a chance to talk to him until just before he left. He approached me, and said "Thank you. I was watching you during the ceremony and I could tell by the look on your face that you get it. You totally get it. You are a beautiful person. You get it." To which I replied, "What's to get? They are in love, and they're doing exactly what they're supposed to be doing. I'm just glad I could be here to share it with them."

My friend Pete was in the closet when we were in high school. I never actually thought about his sexuality, because he wasn't so far in the closet that he overcompensated, so I just thought he didn't have a girlfriend because he was focused on his goals. (Which he was; I've never met another 16 year old who knows what he wants in a career and ends up there as directly as Pete did. Wow.) Looking back, I still wouldn't pick up on it even though our culture is much more accepting these days. However, I did think that something was missing for him. Because I knew even back then how much I wanted a family, I was worried that he wouldn't have time to find one because he was so focused on a career.

I know now that I don't have to worry about him. He has his family, and it's beautiful. Chris's eyes say it all, even when they're shrouded in $2,000 Cartier sunglasses. They love each other. What is there to get about that?

You might have noticed that I'm raising two boys. My wish for my boys is that they grow up to be kind-hearted, giving people like my friend Pete, and that they're able to find love, too.

Mazel Tov, Pete and Chris. We love you.

Feather Bed Eggs

2008-09-15T07:28:00.001-07:00

We stayed at the Argyle House on Saturday night, and even though I was terribly hung-over (possibly still drunk?) on Sunday morning, we enjoyed a delicious breakfast. Well, the boys did; I enjoyed the fruit and a bite of the eggs, but it was a bit much for me. It was so good though, that I had to find a recipe so I can duplicate it here at home, and try it sober next time.

Feather Bed Eggs
* 4 Slices Thick Cut French-Toast Bread
* 1 1/2 cups Grated Pepper-Jack Cheeese
* 1 1/2 cups Whole Milk
* 6 Large Eggs
* To Taste Black Pepper, Oregano (I'd start with about a teaspoon of dried)
* 1/2 t. Mustard Powder
* Butter

1. Butter 4 small ramekins. Butter one side of bread, and place a single slice with buttered side up in each ramekin. Generously pepper each slice of bread and sprinkle with 1/4 cup of cheese. Beat milk with eggs and add oregano and mustard. Pour over the cheese and bread in the ramekins. Cover and refrigerate overnight.
2. In the morning uncover and place in a cold oven. Set to 350° and bake for 30-40 minutes or until puffed and golden brown. Remove from ramekin and serve immediately.

By the way, the wedding was beautiful. I didn't cry, but it was hard work not to. Tonight, I'll sit down and tell you all about it.

Idiots! Imbeciles!

2008-09-12T22:36:00.000-07:00

We forgot our camera and therefore have no pictures of the fair to share with you.

We do, however, have the list of culinary delights:
1. Krusty Pup corn dog
2. Meyer's Onion Burger
3. Onion Rings
4. Lots of lemonade
5. Elephant Ear
6. Cheese pizza

Now, where did I put those digestive enzymes?

A Fair Day

2008-09-12T08:05:00.001-07:00

We've pulled Fezzik out of school today and intend to hit the fair. I have two measly vacation days left this fiscal year (through September), so I'm bagging a couple of Fridays this month. Three day weekends are very nice. Not as nice as the three day work week I dream about, but I'll take what I can get.

Pictures this evening!

Speaking of dreaming, here's a little video of two dreamy boys singing a funny song. Let's hear it for the erudite ladies! Anna, this one goes out to you!

McSweeny's: An Old Friend

2008-09-08T15:26:00.000-07:00

Who doesn't love a good McSweeny's List?

Case in point: http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/lists/3SuzanneBroughton.html

Glorious Music

2008-09-07T12:15:00.000-07:00

It's Sunday. But you know, I don't do the whole "god" thing.

We keep the t.v. off on Sundays, (obviously) not for religious reasons, but to keep our brains unencumbered and have a peaceful day. We usually listen to NPR until Garrison Keillor hits the air, then lunge for the dial and switch to CD's for the rest of the day.

Those CD's have turned into a time-capsule soundtrack to our lives. Here's one song that defines our Sundays this year. Enjoy, this song is so good it can make me cry.

Today it's making me cry because my dad's best friend Pat had another heart attack last night and is in the CCU. He married my mom's best friend Tyera, and my heart goes out to both of them. If there is any afterlife, my mom is watching over them right now and wishing Pat health and Tyera strength.

Outrage, but With Vengeance

2008-09-06T15:52:00.000-07:00

My girlfriend called last night and informed me that her daughter had brought home a letter from the school district. Apparently, someone in our neighborhood was posing as a school district official, knocking on doors, and asking if any kids lived in the home. He said that he was there to take children to their tutoring session. The smart folks he called upon reported him to the police, who tried but couldn't find him. The police informed the school district of the incident.

Here's the outrage part. Her son, and my son, are in the gifted program, so they do not go to their respective neighborhood schools. The school district chose to send letters home to three neighboring elementary schools, and both of our neighborhood schools were on the distribution list. The school that both of our sons go to, three miles as the crow flies down the street, WAS NOT INFORMED. Neither was the high school, which is outrageous, as many high school children babysit, and the incident happened close to the high school too.

Our district subscribes to a website called SchoolReport.org, which is a website that has the capability to push emails out to registered users, in cases of emergency. Our district uses it as a "pull" resource - meaning parents have to go to the website and read any information posted. Unfortunately, the district has chosen only to use this website for school closure information, so it isn't useful as an emergency notification system. It's set up to use as such, though, and you can bet I'll be at the school board meeting on Wednesday requesting (ok, demanding) that they start using it in this manner going forward.

I took the letter that was sent out to the few schools, and emailed it to our local TV news stations, along with a request that they get the word out that there was an attempted child luring in our neighborhood. As I didn't get a response right away, I figured it wasn't deemed newsworthy; who am I to judge what should be on The News?

However! I got a call on my cell phone this morning from a reporter who was very kind, and who told me "I think this is a very important story, and I'd like to come to your home and interview you if that's ok." EEP! I reluctantly agreed, and she suggested I call other parents who felt the same way, so she could interview them, too. I called my friend, who called a couple of her friends, and three of us are going to be on the news tonight. Along with my neighbor's "Everywhere Bush" (that's a technical news term, the cameraman told us), and anonymous shots of our kids playing on the swing set.

The interview was quick and dirty, and focused on feelings. I wanted to raise my fist and demand ACTION from the police and the school district, but I decided to play it cool and save my vehement protest for the school board meeting. See you there?

It'll Be Between You, Me and the Cats

2008-09-04T20:11:00.000-07:00

Last night, after the boys were snug in their beds. I flipped on the t.v.

Lawnboy came out to the living room and said to me "What in the hell are you watching?"

"ANTM, why?"

"WHY? Why do you watch this crap?"

"It's not crap, it's CAMP, honey. I can't not watch it, it's great. You just can't take it seriously."

"People take it seriously?"

"I dunno. You want I should be watching the Republican National Convention?"

"Point well taken. Want me to pop us some popcorn?"

Long Lost Relatives

2008-09-03T16:57:00.000-07:00

Getting to Know You

2008-09-03T07:11:00.000-07:00

Fezzik's first homework was to put together a small bag of 4 items that could help him describe himself to his new class. Here's what he gathered.

1. The book "Eragon"
2. A drawing of Saphira, the dragon from the book "Eragon"
3. A Bionicle
4. An egg, from our chickens (we blew out the egg and wrapped the empty shell very carefully in tissue, then in a tupperware container)

My ideas, a pictgure of his family, a picture of him in Italy, a Star Wars figurine, were all shot down. I guess we've entered the age where I embarrass him. Yay, that should come pretty easily to me!

Rainforest Swordfight

2008-09-01T18:10:00.001-07:00

Herein you can see how my oldest child doesn't understand the concept of videography, and continues to pose for the camera even though I keep telling him it's a movie. Please forgive me for not understanding the concept of holding the camera steady.

Also, this director's cut shows where same child got his Raptor Arms. At 0:50, watch his dorky dad model the same arm position, except without the two-claw T-Rex customization. Nice.

Note the rushing noise in the background is not a river, but in fact the soothing sounds of swiftly falling rain.

Untitled from Kathi Jenness on Vimeo.

Not What You'd Call Hard Core

2008-09-01T07:45:00.000-07:00

Well, the camping trip was a bust. We headed out to Hoh for what was supposed to be a fun 4- or 5-night adventure. It's late August, for goodness sake, might I remind you. We're supposed to have sun.

My darling husband has wanted to camp at Olympic National Forest for years. Somehow, we kept missing it, mostly because I'm the boss of the whole wide world and I like camping on Orcas Island or in the mountains. This time, I caved, and we've been planning this trip since May.

You locals might be thinking to yourselves "but the Hoh! Why would you do that? It's in the RAIN FOREST."

You'd think that, and you'd be right.

We drove all the way to Port Angeles (maybe 4 hours from our house), before the rain kicked in. On our way to the National Park, another hour and a half from Port Angeles, we might have had the sense to turn around. Nope, though, we soldiered on. We got to the very wet campsite, and donned our rain gear, and set up the tent. Lawnboy kept telling me while he was setting up our new fancy tent that it wasn't rainproof. I kept saying "We'll be fine, Honey," all the while thinking "Man, I do NOT want to camp in this rain, you couldn't light a fire if you wanted to."

Even before he got the rain fly on the tent, the insides were covered in water. We might have brought our rain gear, but we forgot our waterproof pajamas. Lawnboy kept touching base, saying "We can go home if you want." But I didn't want to make another 5 hour drive back home that night, and I thought to myself "We can do anything for one night. We're not going to die from being damp."

Then my genius husband said "Honey, let's go into Forks and see if we can get a hotel room." I said "YES" before he finished the sentence. We left the tents to soak (we brought two tents and set them both up before he had the hotel epiphany), packed the boys into the car, and headed back to Forks, which is about an hour away.

WIMPS! But man, those dry hotel blankets and pillows sure felt good. And the opportunity to dry out our shoes was excellent.

We made a plan to go hiking at Hoh the next morning, and then to head over to the rain shadow after the hike. We were on our way before 9 AM. It was still pouring when we got back to the campsite, and because we had decided to head to Sequim to camp in the rain shadow, which was 2 hours away, we went ahead and broke down camp before trying to hike. Good thing we hadn't slept there, as our fancy big tent had puddles inside that were bigger than the kids' bodies. Lawnboy got all packed up while I kid-wrangled, and aside from being chased by The Amazing So and So with his pet banana slug, "AAAAAAA! LAWNBOY! HELP! HE'S CHASING ME! WITH A SLUG!!!" it was pretty uneventful.

Realizing it was time to head on to the next camp, we decided to pass on the rainforest hike. On the way out of the park, we passed 3 or 4 rental RV's, and devised a plan to check into that for the next time. It seems like a good idea; all the convenience and dryness of a hotel room but still kind of outside. We can go hiking in the rain, then dry off inside our own little camper.

We unpacked at Dungeness Spit in dry weather, but then we realized we'd forgotten a few key items: a pot or pan to cook in, lighter or waterproof matches, a patch kit for our air mattress (which got popped when the boys were "helping" set up camp), and warm coats. Brought the raincoats, but nothing heavy to keep warm with. Dinner consisted of bananas, Lara Bars, tortilla chips and Smores. Hooray for campground nutrition!

At bedtime, it sprinkled a bit. We weren't worried. Our small tent had fared really well in the rain at Hoh, and had already dried out. We snuggled in it together that night, and even though it started pouring in the middle of the night, we stayed dry. The shoes, our only shoes, that were left outside the tent, were another story.

We woke up and donned our squishy shoes and packed up right away. We'd had it. We headed up to Hurricane Ridge, borrowed some matches from another camper to light our stove enough to heat water for the instant soup lunch, went for a tiny 1 mile hike down to a creek, and then got in the car and headed back to home sweet home that afternoon.

This ends our camping adventures for 2008.

Mighty Life List

2008-08-29T09:26:00.001-07:00

Maggie at Mighty Girl has inspired me to write my Mighty Life List. It will be an ongoing project wherein I list all the random, crazy stuff I want to do before I go teats up.

Here goes, in no particular order. Some are much more attainable than others, I know, but it's a list in progress.

What's on yours?

1. See the Aurora Borealis
2. Visit NYC
3. Go to Vermont after mud season, but before summer
4. Actually backpack somewhere with my husband
5. Visit my relatives in Sweden
6. Take the boys on a National Park road trip; Yosemite, Yellowstone, Grand Canyon, I don't care where
7. Work the Farmer's Market Circuit
8. Be successful with the above, and by successful, I mean enough to quit my day job
9. Live on a working farm, not just a suburban tract house with 3 chickens in the back
10. Finish one single home improvement project before starting another one

A Week of Adventure

2008-08-23T08:52:00.000-07:00

After the weekend, we're heading over to the Olympic National Forest for a week-long respite. Fezzik starts at his new school on September 2nd, and we all need a break before we're ready for it. Our big plans for the week include sitting on logs and staring into the forest in honor of our friend Josh, "hiking" (for how well can we hike with an 18 month old in tow, one who started his independent stage early and refuses to be carried anymore), and splashing in the ocean and the hot springs.

School clothes: check
School supplies: check
Appointment for pre- school year/return to work massage: check!
Mental preparedness: in progress

This weekend is sopposed to be relaxing. ...right. Among other things, we're shopping for our camping trip (we're out of marshmallows!), cooking my dad (and his girlfriend, my grandma, and great aunt) a belated birthday dinner, making a batch of soap (BY GOD), finding someone to watch the chickies (have an offer from a friend, think we'll take her up on that), and putting together the last minute school supplies and such. I forgot to mention a possible sleepover tonight, and if that doesn't happen, a definite play date, and we're going to a matinee of THE CLONE WARS.

I was talking about this schedule with a friend last night, and she said "wow, that's a lot. I wouldn't want to live if I had that much to do." How cute, I thought. She's so not ready to have kids. Sorry Jess - but it's true! And I am slightly jealous of your plans for the weekend. Lazing about sounds deeeeelicous! But I have consequences if I do that, so enjoy it now, while you still can!

So here's a quick note to let you know we're not bringing the laptop on our vacation, so please stand by for pictures of our vacation, which will be posted after we return.

Photo from Sol Duc Resort

Unready

2008-08-19T16:26:00.000-07:00

As Fezzik was getting dressed yesterday, I noticed his hair looked particularly dirty. Odd, because his every-other-nightly shower had happened 9 hours before this.

I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach: my little seven-and-a-half year old is growing up! Soon there will be armpit hairs! And worse! I've heard and read the horror stories of early-onset puberty due to the hormones in our food, but I've really counted on us avoiding that because he is a vegetarian, and we don't buy milk with rBGH.

Anywhoodle, I asked him to slap his baseball cap on that greasy mane, and off we went, me with a mental note to make him shower more frequently from here on out.

After dinner, I asked him to jump in the shower, which he did. I told him to wash his hair really well, at least twice.

He came plodding down the hall after his shower, and Lawnboy and I looked at his hair, then caught eachother's eye. Something was just not right.

"Fezzik, did you wash your hair?"

"Yes. Twice."

"Did you wash it with shampoo?"

"Yes, but it didn't foam up very well."

"Did you rinse your hair?"

"Yesssss."

"Did you use conditioner?"

"Nooooooooooo."

"Can you please show us the shampoo you used?"

Plod, plod, plod back to the bathroom, then out to us with this in his hands:

Whoops! No wonder it didn't "foam up" very well! He used the BABY OIL!

I can see how it happened; we use the same brand of shampoo and baby oil. The only difference is the small words on the (almost identical) label, and the pump.

Note to Fezzik: please use THIS from now on!

Lazy Sundays

2008-08-17T20:07:00.000-07:00

Just kidding. I don't get to have those anymore.

Today we were up at 5 because of the flash of light and the KABOOM right outside our window. Then the rain started, and quickly stopped. I was reminded why I can never, ever live in Vermont. I hate muggy weather!

Then I tried semi successfully to get Fezzik to clean his disastrous room. Lawnboy came home, and brought his patience with him - we're so balanced, me with the "DO IT RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME I WILL GIVE YOUR TOYS TO CHARITY," and Lawnboy with the "It's really important to us that you clean your room. How can we help you get it done today?" His way wins, hands down. I suck at motivational speeches.

The Amazing So and So helped me grocery shop for the potluck this afternoon, and we were off to the Wild and Wacky at Josh's parents' house. Boy, do I love those people. I know I only get to see their good sides, but for a huge family, there is no tension, everybody genuinely cares about everyone else, and we feel so welcome with them. Not in the least because although we only see them once or twice a year, every single one of them remembers us, our names, and our kids names. So, thank you Josh, for having an awesome family and letting us be a part of its extension! I wish that your folks (or any one of your aunts) could officially adopt us!!! How many times can I say that without creeping you out? We'll see.

Updates on the chickens: they're messy and they eat gardens. We haven't had time to fence them off yet into their own run, so they're very free range at this point. Lawnboy finished making the coop functional - it's ugly as hell but we can fix that sometime. Priority one is to get the coop moved (it's a heavy sucka) into its permanent location, and two is to fence it off into their own little chicken run. Should happen this week, especially if we want to keep what's left of the veggies in the garden. They haven't touched the ripe fruits - the 7 cucumbers and the crookneck squash are all intact (and now on my kitchen counter), but they've pecked the hell out of the lettuce and the kohlrabi seedlings are officially toast. Oh well, I hope they're worth it. They haven't graced us with any more eggs yet, or at least not in places where we could find them. Should be much easier to know if and when they lay once we have them all fenced off.

Ta for now!

The Egg Mystery

2008-08-14T21:33:00.000-07:00

I found this under the tomatoes tonight; let's all hope it's a sign of things to come.

Lawnboy will be finishing the nesting boxes tomorrow, and I choose to believe that this will put an end to eggs in the garden.

Also, here is Pidgey enjoying her new roost. Not so, the Ladies Orpington. We think they're too fat (the poor dears), and we'll be making adjustments to the coop tomorrow to accommodate their girth. Pidge was not amused when Charlie the Wondercat decided to crawl under the coop and stare up through the wire floor at her. There was clucking, and I'm quite sure we'll hear about it if any predators come harrass these girls. They'll be our watchchickens.

Li'l Dinos

2008-08-14T06:33:00.000-07:00

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you OUR HENS.

They appear to be two Buff Orpingtons and one Rhode Island Red. Pidgey, Starley, and Taloolah.

Within Sight

2008-08-13T17:06:00.001-07:00

We are so close to realizing a dream here. As you know, I've been planning to get chickens for a long, long time now. We've dismantled the dog house in hopes of a fancy chicken coop conversion, and like most of our well-intentioned projects, we came to a screeching halt somewhere between ripping out the floor and actually making it functional. I should mention that this is the Royal 'We' here - and that I shant be responsible for any actual work on said coop. I'm the brains behind this operation, if you haven't figured that out yet.

Shut up, Anna.

The best way to get Lawnboy to finish a project is to force the matter. That is why, when We undertook the dismantling, I had in my head the niggling thought that I would one day come home with a few lovely laying hens, and make him finish the coop over the following weekend.

Friends, that day is upon us.

A girl from work sat down in a meeting today, and said "Who wants to come up to Shoreline and pick up the three stray hens that have been hanging out in my yard for a week?"

Without hesitation, I shouted "DIBS" - as if anyone else was going to beat me to the punch. Such a dweeb I am.

She ran home today to see if they were still there, and they were. Her husband is going to call all their neighbors tonight, and if no one claims them, THEY'RE OURS.

Don't be jealous of this glamorous life we're leading. It's hard to be so AWESOME.

Pickles!

2008-08-10T17:53:00.000-07:00

I've had several nicknames, mostly nice ones, but my favorite is the one I've worked hard to earn.

My uncle calls me Pickle Princess. He is something of a pickle connoisseur, and I know how to make a mean dill pickle.

I love canning and preserving. When we moved back from Tucson, I asked my Grandma Bonnie to tutor me in the fine arts of canning. She always had pickles, jelly or stewed tomatoes going in her kitchen. I was really interested in making jelly, but she told me in no uncertain terms that I was to learn how to make pickles, so that she could have some. I agreed, and an obsession was born.

I've made a few different recipes over the years, but the one I found that wins the taste test every year is Short-Brine Dills, which I've adapted from The Joy of Pickling. I made them today.

Short Brined Dill Pickles
12 lbs 3 to 5 inch pickling cucumbers
1 1/2 c. pickling salt, divided
2 gallons + 2 quarts water
7 1/3 c. apple cider vinegar
1/4 c. sugar
16 garlic cloves, sliced
16 shallots, chopped
40 teaspoons mustard seeds
40 dill heads, plus fronds if you'd like
40 black peppercorns
20 small dried chili peppers
40 grape leaves

The cast of characters:

1. Gently wash the cucumbers, slicing off the blossom ends.

Then, dissolve half the pickling salt in the 2 gallons of water, in a large bowl or crock. Add the scrubbed cucumbers, and let them sit overnight.

2. Drain the cucumbers the next day. Wash and sterilize 20 quart-sized mason jars and lids.

3. In a stainless steel pot, bring the remaining 3/4 c. pickling salt, the 2 quarts water, the vinegar, and sugar to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar and salt.

4. While that stuff is heating up, divide your garlic, dill, grape leaves, mustard seeds, shallots and peppercorns among the jars.

5. Stuff each jar as full as you can with cucumbers, then pour the hot vinegar mixture over the top of them to within 1/2 inch of the rim.

By the way, you'll likely get to your last jar and have tons of cucumbers left over. Start squeezing them, it won't hurt. I always manage to get more into the jars when I go back to get the leftovers in.

6. Close up the jars with your lids and rings, and process them for 15 minutes in a boiling-water bath.

Don't be too disappointed when this happens. I manage to break one jar every single time. I have just come to expect it.

7. Store them for at least a month before you open a jar.

Bonus points if you enter them in your county fair! I'm really going to do that this year, I swear!!!

Socking it Away, in Vinegar

2008-08-10T07:20:00.000-07:00

Today I will be working on my short-brine dill pickles. I should have at least 8 quarts done by the end of the day. I'm taking pictures of the whole procedure and will show you just how I got the nickname Pickle Princess tomorrow.

Trickery

2008-08-09T19:04:00.001-07:00

After-dinner update: This totally worked! I am looking forward to having more help in the kitchen. He even ate the visible kale! It's time to teach him how to use a knife!

How do you get kids to eat what you put in front of them?

This conundrum has been a struggle at our house, albeit not nearly as bad as the horror stories I've overheard. My kids love macaroni and cheese, but they know that we won't serve that them every single night. Or even once a week, for that matter.

I love to cook, and I love to experiment when I do. I have my standards, my easy weeknight meals, the same as anyone else who cooks, the spagetti, the tacos, the tortellini soup. But this working girl likes to get creative on the weekends.

Sometimes when I do that, Fezzik turns his nose up at the plate in front of him. Because we've taken pride in the fact that we don't have particularly picky kids, and we do take credit for that, when he says something is "yucky," my hide gets chapped. Fast.

These days, when we're trying hard to stick to our strict budget, we've been cooking a lot more, and using what I've been pantry-hoarding over the past year. Today, it's lentil soup. This is something Lawnboy and I love, but I don't make very often, for whatever reason. It's been rainy and chilly all day, and I have a cupboard full of nice green French lentils, so why not?

My strategy today was to ask for Fezzik's help in the kitchen. We're currently waiting for the soup to cool down, so we'll see how well this plays out in a few minutes. I hope the effort he put into peeling the carrots, and measuring the spices and broth, will translate into some pride in his soup, and lead him to be excited about eating it.

I hope, also, that he isn't able to pick out the microscopic bits of kale I've hidden in it.

Emma Larson

2008-08-08T20:26:00.000-07:00

Have I mentioned my desire to be a full-time Mom to you?

Note, I didn't say I wanted to be a "housewife." To me, there's a much different connotation to the term "full-time Mom." "Housewife" implies housework to me. Bor-ring!!! But a "full-time Mom" is a Mom with a capital M, the kind who bakes cupcakes every week, who plays Uno with her kids and goes off on Dragon Chases in her back yard with her boys. In other words, the kind who doesn't give a rat's ass if there are Cheerios stuck to her kitchen floor.

When I was a girl, I babysat for this hilarious family, we'll call them the Larsons, because that was their name. Emma was the mom, and she was particularly colorful. I remember looking up the word "douche" in the dictionary after finding her Massengil in their tub when I stuck her two little ones in the bath. I had no idea such a thing existed. My mom, if she'd been a user of such products (she wasn't), would have hidden such a personal item far from the teenage babysitter's prying eyes. I don't think Emma could have cared less! She had LIVING to do! She couldn't be bothered with hiding things or housework, that's for sure.

My mom kept a clean house. Not tidy, all the time, but clean. My sister and I were whipped mercilessly (just kidding, we were nagged) if we didn't do our chores after school. I, on the other hand, well you could say I've never been a neat or tidy person. My cubicle at work is usually overflowing with files and drawings for the projects I'm working on. I've always wanted to be motivated enough to pick up after myself more, but I get distracted. Whatever!

The thing is, I get embarrased by it at times. I WISH I had a clean house. Don't get me wrong; we don't wallow in filth, we're just messy. I scrub the bathroom at least once a week, and we don't let the dishes pile up too long. But if you catch me towards the end of the work week, don't be surprised if I run from the doorbell if you ring. Or if I meet you out on the front step, and don't let you into my house. My mom did a good job of instilling the guilt about a messy house, she just didn't figure out how to get me to clean up instead of feeling guilty.

I wonder what I get from that guilt. Is it better for me somehow to feel guilty, than it is for me to just get off my arse at night and scrub? I have no idea.

In the end, I'm more of an Emma Larson. She was a legend in our house, mostly for those stuck-on-the-floor Cheerios. If I ever run into her again, I'll have to ask her if she ever felt guilty for not being more of a Housewife. And if she didn't, I'll have to figure out her secret.

Ouchey, and a Yard Sale

2008-08-07T18:04:00.000-07:00

Got my first (and hopefully my last) crown today. I had no cavities at my last checkup (huzzah for Tom's of Maine toothpaste and my Sonicare toothbrush!), but an old root canal was starting to fall apart on me. Now my tooth nubbin hurts! The temporary crown is weird! But I love my dentist. The Novocaine was starting to wear off toward the end of the grinding, and she knew it, but she did what I would have told her to do if my mouth hadn't been propped open: she hurried up with the grinding instead of stopping to give me more Novocaine. Hooray for getting it over with!

In other news, the yard sale is almost ready. Waiting on borrowed tables arriving tonight, and just a few things left to price tonight. Wish us luck tomorrow in getting rid of our treasures!

Evangelicals Cause Hemorrhoids

2008-08-06T21:24:00.000-07:00

So the news out of Houston today was particularly surreal.

The next time you're on an airplane and someone flips out, just be glad televangelist Joel Osteen and his insane wife aren't there.

Click the link, and you won't be disappointed; I kid you not - the televangelist's wife threw a fit about a spill on her armrest, and caused this poor flight attendant's HEMORRHOIDS to flare up! You can't make this stuff up!

Fantasy # 412

2008-08-06T16:14:00.000-07:00

I just looked at Fezzik's School Year Calendar for 2008/2009. I zoomed immediately to his vacation dates, so that I can make sure a)I have enough time off to cover his breaks without a babysitter, and b)(more importantly) we can schedule vacations and have fun as a family!

I think my plan for mid-winter break is especially brilliant this year. I haven't broken the news to Lawnboy yet, but I think we need to blow our tax refund on a trip to HAWAII.

There, I said it. Honey? Can we? Pleeeeeease? Because as you well know, the more sun you expose me to in February, the less medication I need the rest of the year. Seriously.

Tornado Update

2008-08-06T06:34:00.001-07:00

Did I mention that I wanted my sister to move back home? I know she loves Chicago, but the city is filled with arseholes.

Yesterday, she went to take pictures of her damaged car, so she could submit an insurance claim, and when she got to her car, the city tree-cutters were there, getting the tree off her car. Which is great, right? Except, they broke her mirror. She wasn't upset about it, because really, what's a broken mirror, when your car had a tree fall on it, but she (politely) asked the city worker how she should submit the claim for her broken mirror.

He YELLED at her, and told her she was stupid to park there anyway, and that the mirror was broken by an act of god, so she should just shut up and get out of his face.

Lucky for her, she has an uncanny ability to remain calm in situations like these. I would be in tears already (I would have been close to tears at the point where I realized I'd have to ask a stranger a question - that's just how I roll), but she is SMART and COMPOSED and she remembered that she had taken pictures the night before, too, so she had evidence that the tree did not knock her mirror off, and she told the city worker that. He continued yelling, and she said "I'm not sure why you're yelling at me - I'm not asking you to pay for this out of your pocket. I'm asking how your employer can reimburse me." He was a maniac, and even still he continue to rant at her about nonsense. They went back and forth for a while, she trying to explain to him that she had simply parked on the street before the storm, she didn't actually wedge her car underneath a fallen tree, and finally she told him "Never mind, I will figure out how to call your employer on my own."

Also - the owner of the property from which the tree fell had come out of his house at this point to see what the commotion was. This guy could be considered her neighbor, although his actions were far from neighborly. Karrie asked him if he could lend her a pen so she could write the city worker's information down, and he told her no! She said, "You can't just go into your house and grab me a pen? Really?" He stood his ground and said nope.

I love visiting Chicago, don't get me wrong. But the next time I'm there, I might have to punch a city employee in the face.

The House Began to Pitch

2008-08-05T06:42:00.000-07:00

My sister lives in Chicago, and while I was out enjoying a night of fire dancing, she had a different kind of adventure.

You might have heard, Wrigley Field was evacuated last night because of the tornado.

Here's the story, as my husband relayed it to me this morning.

Karrie was on her way home from the hospital where she works, on the bus, when her friend Logan, who was staying at her condo, called. Logan was afraid because of the storm. Karrie said "Well, don't panic until you hear the tornado sirens. I'm on my way home right now."

They hung up, and five minutes later, the tornado sirens went off. My sister's bus was tossed around in the wind, and she was thoroughly afraid. She got off the bus, and had to run three blocks in ankle-deep water to her building.

She was safe, but a little shaken. They rode out the storm, and after it was over, they realized that a tree had come down a little farther down her block.

"Karrie, isn't your car parked down there?"

"Oh crap."

They went to check it out, and the 300-year-old tree had come down and hit part of her car, which isn't totaled, but did have some damage. There were other cars in the area that did get totaled.

The moral of the story? One of the reasons I live here is because unless you're ridiculously stupid, the weather here isn't going to kill you.

Sis, I'm really glad you're ok.

Meditation, with Blueberries, a Photo Essay

2008-08-02T18:39:00.000-07:00

My (then soon to be) father-in-law got me a cookbook called "Cookies: a Cookie Lover's Collection" for Christmas in 1996, 6 months before I got married. The inscription says "To Kathi on Christmas 1996, Just a bit of sweetness from a crusty old man to a great daughter. Hope this will stand you in good stead throughout the years trying to keep that hubby of yours satiated. Love, Dave" I haven't yet cooked through the book in its entirety, but I am slowly progressing and would say I've baked at least half the recipes. I have other ways of keeping Lawnboy satiated, but nobody wants to hear about that. I'm just saying that I haven't applied myself to making all the recipes because we've been...busy.

Um, where was I? Yes, the cookies.

Today, our blueberries needed harvesting. I was trying not to make muffins with them, because a)the blueberries are delicious raw, and b)seriously, who needs another muffin? I'm partial to cupcakes. Then Lawnboy and I had a conversation about cheap desserts, and I thought I should bake some cookies. Lo and behold, a recipe for Blueberry Lemon Drops beckoned me and I was able to check one more recipe off the list! I documented the whole thing in photographs for your viewing pleasure. These cookies are quite delicious, nice and tangy with fresh bursts of berries. You should bake them, I mean it.

Blueberry Lemon Drops

2 c. all-purpose flour, + 1 tablespoon for berries
1 c. fresh blueberries
1 c. sugar
1/2 c. butter, room temperature
1 egg
1 1/2 t. freshly grated lemon peel
1 T. fresh lemon juice (don't cheat here, or you'll regret it)
1 t. baking powder
1/2 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt
Oven: 375 degrees

First, go pick about a cup of blueberries. Alternatively, acquire them from your local organic berry farmer. Then, when you get them into your kitchen, stick them into a small, cereal-sized bowl and cover them with about a tablespoon of flour.

Now, go zest your lemon, like this.

And juice it. You can strain the seeds later.

Now you can stick your butter, the sugar, the egg, the lemon peel and juice into your mixing bowl. See?

Beat all that on medium speed for a few minutes, until everything is smooth, light and fluffy.
Not there yet:

Ahhh, here we are!

Now you're ready to add your flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Just dump it right in, like so.

At this piont, stir it all together on low JUST until the flour is all mixed in, and it forms a little ball in the middle. Not too much, now, or you'll make them tough. We wouldn't want that.

Now you can take a rubber spatula and very gently fold in your blueberries, trying very hard not to break them up, but also trying to distribute them evenly throughout the dough. It's a delicate balance, but you can do it.

It should end up looking like this. Can you tell that most of the berries are still whole, and they're pretty evenly spaced in the dough?

Now you're ready to plop them onto your greased baking sheet or your preheated baking stone. I used both, but I like how they turned out on the stone. The well loved, messy-looking stone.

You might be wondering how I was able to get to this point uninterrupted. I cheated. Yogurt, pretzels and a high chair.

All that's left is to put them into your hot oven for 12 minutes, take them out, and let them cool down on the racks. I highly recommend cooking each batch a slightly different length of time, because sometimes it's nice to have a darker, well-done cookie, and sometimes you want a squishy, light one. Note we have both. Also note how much effort it took to keep our dirty mitts off these cookies until I could get a picture of the full racks. Man, the willpower in this house is amazing. Especially when I'm standing by the rack with a hot spatula in my hand.

The cookbook said this would make 2 dozen cookies. I'm stingy and make small cookies, I guess, because I got 6 extra cookies out of this batch.

See how easy that was? For goodness sake, what are you waiting for? Go eat!

More Moneymaking Adventures

2008-08-02T09:13:00.000-07:00

We are having a garage sale next weekend. Dad had one a week ago, and we thought it would be good for us to dump some of our crap on unsuspecting strangers.

I mean, you know, sell our valuable pre-owned items to sharp bargain-hunters.

I cleaned out The Amazing So and So's dresser and closet, and Fezzik decided to part with both pair of his cleats because he's "never playing baseball again." Sorry Auntie and Grandpa, looks like my tall boy didn't like it.

Tackled the linen closet today and I'm embarassed to admit I found a pile of brand-new bath toys underneath the towels and pillowcases. The bath toys were a baby shower gift, 18 months ago. Yay! New stuff! The boys are both currently playing with these new toys.

I should go up into the attic and get down a couple bins of toys we put up there to swap out. It would be fun to watch them play with Lincoln Logs that have been put away since last summer. Although, I'm really hoping that the clouds will dissipate today and allow us to set up the Slip N Slide. I'm ready for another weekend of summer.

Things I Own and Love

2008-08-01T07:10:00.000-07:00

I know you're not supposed to be so attached to material goods, but let's face it, we all are.

I bought my first Green Man, the one in this picture, at Rosslyn Chapel in Scotland. You might have read about that in The Da Vinci Code, but we went before that book was published. Or if not before it was published, before we'd read or heard of it. Anywhoodle, the Green Man I bought there was a cast of one inside the church. Green Men were a pagan tradition that got adopted into Catholicism in England. I just love stuff like that - "Let's convert these heathens. Hmm, how should we do that? I know! Let's just tell them that everything they already know and believe is a part of OUR religion too!"

I went on to start a small collection of them, and when my mom died, I inherited half of hers. The six of them now hang on our walls to protect us and connect us to the trees. And also, to look cool.

Update on Clothesline

2008-07-31T07:41:00.000-07:00

We recieved the clothesline on Tuesday, and of course it rained so we couldn't use it. Fezzik admitted that he thought we were nerds to be so excited about a dumb clothesline.

Not that it phased us.

It stopped raining yesterday, and we load-tested the line. It's up to snuff! I spent some time this morning hanging clothes in the quiet. An obnoxious Stellar's Jay came along and interrupted my reverie, but I didn't mind because those feathers are my favorite color. I tried to get a picture of him, but he was uncooperative.

We've got three loads on the line, and there's room for one more.

Nerds!

The First Shoe Dropped

2008-07-29T20:20:00.000-07:00

I've spent the last month agressively chewing my fingernails for nothing, apparently. My forehead (and now chin) can return to their normal, unblemished state, thank you very much. I can get a decent night's sleep, finally.

You see, I was not laid off today.

Phew, I think.

I was really upset about the handful of people I know who were. Some of which had great passion for what we do. Others of which have families to feed, clothe and shelter. I'm sick about that, actually. I think the bad skin is here to stay for a while.

It was so weird sitting at my desk receiving the IM's from other friends who "made it through" - "Are you ok?" How do I respond to that question? Honesty wasn't the best policy here. I'm glad I was able to maintain my composure enough to say "I'm ok, and I'm glad you're still here."

I used to work for a company that put its people first. Not so much, anymore. We were told to "stay focused" today. We did, on our shock.

Don't tell anyone, but I cracked open the flask I keep in my bottom drawer. It was there in case of emergency.

I feel like this is melodramatic, but it was quite a big deal to me today. If you've been paying attention, you realize that my job is not my life, but the thing is, I do need it. And I'm freaked out about the alternative.

Sweet dreams.

Baby Giveaway

2008-07-28T18:52:00.000-07:00

I've been getting familiar with Naturemoms blog, which has some pretty decent information. She seems like someone I'd like, which is a prerequisite for me to get involved with new blogs. Addict much?

She's having a cute baby stuff giveaway today. All you have to do is leave a comment on her post here: http://www.naturemoms.com/blog/2008/07/28/bloggy-giveaway-natural-baby-prize-pack/. Stacie, Sandra and Scarlet, it was written for you.

Things I Love, but Don't Own and Can't Afford

2008-07-28T07:27:00.000-07:00

News Flash: Etsy is a veritable treasure trove of covetabe stuff. I think this little pillow would add a bit of wonky style to our living room, and pull together all things English in my house: the barley-twist mantle clock and dining table & chairs, the Green Men, and my Spode tea set. Isn't it cute? I've been drooling over the Karen Hilton Designs Etsy store for a year now. Enjoy!