the chatterbox cafe

nothing of importance

2012-01-27T19:08:00.000-05:00

I was just telling the hubby this morning how sick and tired I am of being sick and tired. This part of pregnancy is just stinking miserable. At least I'm not quite as religiously devoted to the porcelain throne as I was the last two times. And I'm eating a slightly wider variety of food. Last two times, I was guzzling Gatorade and chomping Twizzlers and fruit snacks. This time I'm actually able to down a little oatmeal. I still can't eat anything more than once or twice. If I see it a third time, I might just lose it. Third time is not the charm.

And smells... Oh. My. Goodness. I can smell a stray pea that Gunnar discarded on the floor. Onions. Gag. I even saw a bacon commercial that almost made me lose it. Even the thought of smells. I have to stick my head in my turtleneck to mask any potentially scary odor.

Enough about me. Gunnar's second birthday is today, and we didn't really party hearty, but I'm hoping I'll feel better in a month or two to throw some kind of fun little shin dig. We ran by Whole Foods and picked up a lovely little chocolate torte (thanks to me mum) and a little cuppycake in celebration. Gunnar opened his gifts, played with his balloon, and blew out his two candles with gusto. I love this child.

Gunns has grown up so much in the past few months-- talking like a big boy with full sentences, singing songs, imitating his big brother's shenanigans, and entering into the independence of the twos. "Gunn-gah do dat!" He insists that he is able to do anything, and then when he finds out he can't, he cries bloody murder. But he's generally a mellow boy still who often is serious (especially when dancing), yells to announce his presence, insists that we look at him when he's doing anything important (like riding on Daddy the "elephant"), and plays silly echo games with his made up words ("tobby, "odote", "pumbum", etc.)

Sometimes I think ahead and wonder how I'll manage with three kids and two arms. But these two are getting to be a little less maintenance, and hopefully I'll have Gunnar potty trained before the little Bambino arrives.

And just to let you all know... we are doing things the old-fashioned way, which means not finding out whether this kiddo is a boy or girl. I'm actually looking forward to the surprise this time!

the dark days of pregnancy

2012-01-10T07:06:00.001-05:00

I really try to keep thinking of the fluffy, cute little babies that are a byproduct of all this sickness I’m enduring. The first week and a half of sickness was really mild, much easier than with the previous two, where I’d wake up and have to run to the bathroom to throw up. After about 7.5 weeks though, it’s been rough. I have been able to keep some food down, which is an improvement again over the last two pregnancies, but I’ve been so nauseated, I can’t stand the smell of anything, especially anytime the stove or burners are lit. So dear hubby has been cooking for the boys out on the camping stove on the porch. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

I’ve been so drained of energy that it feels like I’m kind of a shadow of what I used to be. When I’m not throwing up, I feel like throwing up. The boys have been trying to help Mommy as much as they can. Magnus seems particularly sympathetic to how I feel, and tries to pat my back or otherwise play doctor. He’s only gotten the flu once, but I think he remembers how miserable it can be. Gunnar, on the other hand, is pretty oblivious to what’s going on—which is good. He just keeps playing and being his crazy self. I’m really thankful to have two healthy little boys. They’re kind of like my trophies for having struggled so hard through pregnancy to get them.

Oh, we did tell the boys that we’re going to have a new baby next summer. Magnus was pretty thrilled, and Gunnar just hovers over my tummy saying “Hi…baby…” I figured it would be easier for Mags to know that Mommy is sick for a good reason, and so far he’s not angry at the baby for making Mommy sick. It’s just “normal” in his mind that Mommy gets sick when she’s got a baby in her tummy. I wonder if he’s got some memory of my pregnancy sickness with Gunnar.

Baby is just about 9 weeks, so he/she already has had a heartbeat for awhile now and has a mouth, ears, eyes, nose, and is the size of a grape. We’ll get to hear its heartbeat in a couple weeks, so that will make it all seem more like a baby and less like a bad case of the flu.

Yesterday I had a really cruddy day. It started out okay, so I attempted to sort some of the boys’ toys (which have kind of blown up around the house since I got sick). But then at some point, I started vomiting and getting a pre-migraine aura (and I seldom get migraines) and numbness in my hand, so I called the hubs, and he came home to watch the boys for me. I’m grateful that his work is flexible enough to allow for this, especially since we don’t live near our families. Anyhow, I threw up at least ten times over the next few hours, and tried to sleep off the headache, which wasn’t successful. So I called in to get a zofran prescription so I could keep some ibuprofen down, and some fluids, because by that point, I was pretty dehydrated. My dear husband kept checking on me the whole evening. I can’t imagine life without him. (Although, I probably wouldn’t be in this situation right now without him either… ha!)

I definitely appreciate everyone’s prayers and understanding right now. It’s not easy, but I’ll make it through by God’s grace. And we’ll get another cute little peanut to snuggle.

captain underpants

2012-01-03T15:14:00.001-05:00

You’ve got people that wear their heart on their sleeve, and you’ve got people who wear their underwear as their outerwear. Gunnar had evidently coerced his big brother into letting him wear some of his undies. They just didn’t go on the right way. But I kind of like the look. It’s almost superhero-esque. Like he’s got everything under control and could save me any moment from a sticky situation.

I think he looks so grown up in the last picture. My baby… How do they grow up so fast?

I guess it’s a good thing we’re expecting number three this coming August!!

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-27T14:26:00.002-05:00

A couple days late, but we’re sending a joyous greeting from our family to yours!

the way the cookie crumbles

2011-12-23T14:55:00.002-05:00

I mentioned that cookie baking this year was going moderately successful. The first batch I made was for a cookie exchange at a friend’s home—what should have been crisp and light Swedish pepparkakor (recipe from my great grandmother) turned out slightly chewy. Saddish. They tasted great with the toasted almonds and the boys didn’t care, but I would LOVE to be able to put out a cookie similar to the ones in the Carl Larsson tins we grew up eating at Christmas.

I next decided to make a batch of caramel topped shortbread. There was a couple line breaks in the recipe that threw me off, and I inadvertently omitted a couple ingredients from the caramel topping so the caramel topping oozed off the top. Nevertheless, they still tasted yummy. That’s what I get for trying new recipes. Ha!

If the oozing caramel wasn’t enough to stop me, I decided to make some super easy, very delicious Swedish thumbprint cookies. But my laziness in measuring the flour (thinking I could estimate sifted flour) made the dough too buttery and they spread flat on the pan. Of course they tasted delicious. They just looked about as good as a 2D version of a 3D movie. Or worse. You decide. :)

I guess if there’s one thing other than recipes (and blue eyes) handed down from the Swedes in my family, it’s stubbornness. I refused to be dominated by my baking mishaps. On to the chocolate crinkles—hubby’s only necessary Christmas cookie. I got back at the kitchen with these…

And the coconut macaroons laced in dark chocolate… mmm…

And a retake on the thumbprints. Along with the cashew brittle (which tasted more like toffee). And the peanut butter fudge (not pictured.)

I am DONE baking cookies (and most of them are out of the house now). Next year, hopefully I’ll be baking at my mother’s house under supervision. :) That or my Gunnar will take over holiday baking. I think he could.

trimming the tree

2011-12-17T19:01:00.004-05:00

We did finally get a tree about a week into December. Growing up, we most often would go out to a tree farm and pick out a real tree. Some of my fondest memories are of Saturday afternoons braving the frigid cold to get the tree. This year the rain we had prevented us from cutting down our own tree, but I’m sure it wouldn’t have looked quite as nice as our purchase from Lowes. Our first tree together was one we cut down, and golly was it the saddest Charlie Brown tree! This one’s definitely an upgrade. The smell of a fresh fir in the living room and the sight of a lit tree makes it look a lot more like Christmas around here, even though we haven’t had a flake more of snow.

The boys and I were impatient to decorate it as soon as it made its way in the house, so we skipped the lights (since we were short a strand), and the boys went to work clumping all the ornaments in a few spots, which I promptly had to rearrange. Since then, the boys have been sneaking ornament moves in at least hourly. :)

Oh, I said we were short a strand of lights. Well, it can't be too hard to find boring old white lights in the stores this time of year, right? I had the hubby look at two stores, then I went to three more before finding the LAST stinking box of them. Every store seemed to be carrying such a huge selection of the LED/solar types of lights, that the plain, old-fashioned incadescent miniature bulbs are becoming a thing of the past. Better stock up on those bulb replacements and fuses!

I even got inspired enough to make a star for the top of the tree. I’m really bad at following instructions or having the patience enough to sew patterns, but it still turned out okay. Although we still have to lop about six inches off the top of the tree to make it look less spindly up there!

Gotta get my fingers back in the cookie dough… Cookie baking this year has been about 75% successful. Oh for my mother’s magic touch in the kitchen!

celebrating light

2011-12-14T19:15:00.000-05:00

    The people who walked in darkness
        have seen a great light;
    those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
        on them has light shone.
    You have multiplied the nation;
        you have increased its joy;
    they rejoice before you
        as with joy at the harvest,
        as they are glad when they divide the spoil.

    Arise, shine, for your light has come,
        and the glory of the LORD has risen upon you.
    For behold, darkness shall cover the earth,
        and thick darkness the peoples;
    but the LORD will arise upon you,
        and his glory will be seen upon you.
    And nations shall come to your light,
        and kings to the brightness of your rising.

    The sun shall be no more
        your light by day,
    nor for brightness shall the moon
        give you light;
    but the LORD will be your everlasting light,
        and your God will be your glory.
    Your sun shall no more go down,
        nor your moon withdraw itself;
    for the LORD will be your everlasting light,
        and your days of mourning shall be ended.

You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.

ode to a rooster

2011-12-13T17:42:00.002-05:00

It was a sad day. The little chick we had lovingly raised was now a full blown cockadoodling rooster, and he had to go. After a call from animal services (due to the incessant crowing), and some aggressive behaviors (which included pecking and charging at Magnus), the beautiful bird’s time had come. I said a prayer of thanks for the rooster with Mags, who was actually quite relieved that would no longer have to run in fear from the bird. I mean that rooster was almost as big as the boys and could have quite easily pecked them blind. Not a chance worth taking.

He never really got a name. I called him Horatio a couple times, but once he started being mean, he became “that rooster”. I didn’t really even like to go into the coop to collect eggs, because I’d turn my back, and he’d rush at me. But he was absolutely gorgeous and did a fine job protecting the hens and being gentle enough with them.

Rooster, I’m sorry that you had to end up in the stewing pot, although your life ended on a very delicious note.

This whole procedure has made us realize how grateful we are for the cycle of life and how important the treatment of animals is to healthy meats and eggs. Our rooster was treated like a king.

Standing at attention among his hens. He was extremely protective.

His eyes were such a lovely shade of orange.

Loved his plumage… so shiny and green.

Thrilled to be able to catch and hold the hens without the threat of “that bad rooster” pecking at him.

first snow!

2011-12-08T22:21:00.001-05:00

Okay, I got REALLY EXCITED yesterday morning when the hubs pointed out that it was snowing outside for all of five minutes. Winter just isn’t winter without snow everywhere, in abundance, covering the earth, and making all things crisp, white, and lovely. Since we get such mild winters here, I gratefully welcome every brief snowfall. This wasn’t much, but the boys got to feel a couple flakes hit them on the nose! Bring it on, Old Man Winter!

Peeking outside… of course you can see the smudged up windows more than the snow :)

Gunns looking happily at the snow whilst Mags is shivering his tushie off in his short-sleeve P.J.s

“Ooh, yeah. It’s snowing. I got the point, Mom. Now for some hot chocolate.”

the advent of advent

2011-12-05T14:54:00.001-05:00

We aren’t going home this year for Christmas (like we have done for most of our married existence). I’m definitely going to miss the snow and Mama’s cookie perfection, but even more the joy of being with my family. Because of this, I’m doing my best to bring loads of holiday cheer into our home! I actually lit the first advent candle on November 30. Never before done around here! I’ve been loosely using this Advent Guide for ideas about passages to read. Sundays during Advent, we light the candles, then every day during December, we pull an ornament out of the advent calendar. I’m always wondering if I can do it myself, so I whipped up this one. Not perfect, but it’ll do in a pinch. :)

Since the ornaments were too time-intensive to remake if broken, I wanted something to keep them safe and organized. I have the best memories of opening the doors to find delicious waxy chocolates in the advent calendars we had as children, so the idea of an advent calendar suited the ornaments perfectly! Magnus looks forward every evening to finding out what’s in the next pocket, so much so that he’s snuck several peeks into the bottom row, and when told not to peek, crunched one of the pockets in his teeth, breaking one of the ornaments. I love super glue. I seriously use it at least twice a week with boys that break everything. My mother used to always say that she could never have anything nice. Now I understand. Life with kids just means broken things… at least the most important things in life aren’t things, right?

What is advent? I think it technically means “coming”. It’s the celebration of the coming of Christmas, but even more specifically Christ. I think there’s something marvelous in preparing for such a special day by filling the days ahead with anticipation. Advent is the past, present, and future all rolled up into one. Every day when we hang one of the symbols on the branch, it reminds us of the waiting that the prophets and saints of old experienced when waiting for the Messiah, and draws us into the joys of waiting for things to come. Which I like because I’m always looking forward to something… though I am getting better at drinking in the moment. Speaking of drinking, I need some coffee.

Oh, I switched from the dowel tree to a branch this year. Too many ornaments on too small of a space!

Next post, I’m hoping to have a few more pictures of other fun things we’re doing to get ready for Christmas. Like cut down a tree… which we still haven’t done because of the rain. What is this dilemma of rain in the winter? Does. Not. Compute. :)

the museums

2011-12-04T16:09:00.002-05:00

Last year when we were out East for Thanksgiving, the hubby and I took the boys downtown for their first trip to the museums. During our bedtime prayers in the following months, Mags almost always asked me to thank God for the astronaut and dinosaur museums, so much so that I got tired of it. :) Because of this, we fit in a quick afternoon visit to both the museum of natural history and the air and space museum, and this time Nana and Pappy came along.

Magnus ran with great enthusiasm to the astronaut museum…

…past the Smithsonian Castle

It’s tough work leading the pack.

Nana & Pappy strolling along.

We’re there!

He was so excited to be there again that he couldn’t even look at the camera.

Staring with mouth agape at the airplanes suspended near the ceiling… it really is a spectacular museum.

Love. the. beard. (Gunnar loved the free Daddy ride until he woke up to see the astronauts.)

I love Gunn’s faces filled with wonderment. So priceless. And delicious.

Mags and his beloved astronauts. I can’t believe he had the self-control to not go hug them.

In front of a bunch of rockets, trying not to pick his nose…

To infinity and beyond!!

I think this was the point Mags got a little glazed over.

I love seeing this. It’s just about my favorite, though we didn’t even get to see the bombers.

Last year, it was Magnus chasing the pigeons. This year, it was Gunnar.

I love this one. So sweet.

Mags knows he’s got it made. Piggybacks are the bestest.

Entering the natural history museum

Magnus observing the ancient, monstrous elephant.

We then rushed into the dinosaur room. ROARRR!!

Gleefully greeting a triceratops…

Counting the number of teeth on the T-Rex…

Checking out the dinosaur models with Nana…

Stopping to see how long the swimming dinosaurs were…

This freaky giant sloth was so freaky deaky I had to take pictures of it again. He’s the stuff of nightmares.

The robotic deep-sea creature exhibit was fascinating for Magnus.

In the mouth of a shark… almost

Did I mention I had poor Gunnar strapped to my back in the Ergo the whole time in this museum? I was too afraid to let him loose in the dinosaurs, lest he pull a Curious George and climb the skeletons. When I finally did let him out in the mammals, he was thrilled.

At one point, he got behind the railing and convinced onlookers he was the worthwhile exhibit. I mean, look at that smile!

“Don’t worry, Gunns. It’s not real!”

Magnus was so convincing, Gunnar wanted a bear hug.

Proof that yes, I was there. No, it’s not a good picture of either of us, but whatever. :)

more from out east

2011-12-04T15:12:00.001-05:00

Darn it! I just can’t keep up on blogging these days! Most of these pics are from either the boys’ visit to the nature center or from the evening that all the family came over for a pre-Thanksgiving meal. And I did come up with one pic of The Man working on the walkway (which was why we were out there in the first place.)

Next post will have pictures from D.C. & the museums. Since we can’t go out and cut down a tree in this rainy weather (isn’t December’s precipitation supposed to be snow?), maybe I’ll post those today and get sort of caught up. :)

fun with nana & pappy

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just a few things…

2011-12-03T22:01:00.001-05:00

…that we’re thankful for this year (among others!)

that thankful time

2011-12-02T17:54:00.000-05:00

What happened to Thanksgiving? The turkey leftovers have been since turned into soup and frozen, the advent season has begun, and I’m already getting cravings for the buttery goodness of holiday baking. We had a pre-Thanksgiving meal with Joseph’s the weekend before, and for the actual day we invited a few friends over for some turkey and the traditional accoutrements.

I thought it might be fun this year to do a thankful tree and string up a few of the things we’re grateful for. Unfortunately I didn’t get it up till a couple days before, so we didn’t have much time to fill up the tree, but the idea is nice and helps get even a kid thinking about what they are thankful for, like…

Tom the Turkey (height: 2’3”, weight: 15 lbs.)

We considered eating this little turkey, but he didn’t like that idea. :)

“And then you baste the bird…” Thanks to Julia Child for the moist bird.

One thing I wasn’t particularly thankful for this Thanksgiving… serving under-cooked whole wheat sweet potato rolls. Now thankful for “learning humility.”

The table and a full plate…

It was like we died and went to casserole heaven. There were even more sides that we couldn’t fit on the island.

Time to eat!

Me little man. (The other one was sleeping and soon woke up in a very cross mood.)

His only smile of the evening was for Violet the golden retriever who waited patiently on the porch while we feasted. Good dog.

The thankful tree

The turkey had so many tryptophans, Gunns slept till 11am the next morning. (See, Mom, I told you he rolled his eyes like Jornie!)

And then he woke to play the classic game of “Hit the cranberries with the turkey drumstick, then eat the cranberries and spit them out.”

sock monkeys & leaf piles

2011-11-28T15:12:00.003-05:00

I don’t know if it’s possible to have more fall fun than the classic leaf pile, especially when you have a grandfather who keeps raking those leaves all the way up to your chin. We were just out for a quick visit with Joseph’s folks for the weekend, and almost as soon as we arrived, Nana popped out the sock monkey hats, which were so stinkin’ cute that we had to give ‘em a test drive in the backyard…

art projects

2011-11-15T19:50:00.002-05:00

I don’t know why I give into the boys’ demands to paint. Maybe it’s all the fond memories I have of eating paste in kindergarten, the childhood joys of tempera painting on large easels, or maybe it’s just a love for both my boys and creativity in general. So I haul out whatever art supplies we need, prepare the project (in this case cutting out tree silhouettes), strip them down to their skivvies (because of course we’ll end up in the tub), and attempt to keep the boys patient as I explain what the general project objective is. Magnus gets it, and usually relishes these little projects. Gunnar, well… his approach, shall we say, is more holistic, more avant garde. Art should be smeared, smelled, tasted, and experienced.

Gunnar IS art. My child looks like an Indian warrior.

Objective: to use fingerprints to make leaves on the trees. I helped Gunnar a lot with this one.

What Gunnar thinks art should look like. Anyone want to put in a bid on the high chair tray? It’s fine art—as fine as some of the modern stuff they slap on walls at the museums.

My enthusiastically well-behaved painter. Well, he did end up with his hands totally red after seeing how much fun his younger sibling was having.

Update: I forgot to thank my mama for the fingerprint art idea. The boys loved it, and now I've got two cute little fall trees on the fridge. I always swore I would never have a fridge all cluttered with junk, but something about mothering demands that a child's artwork be prominently displayed on the refrigerator.

crazy for eggplant

2011-11-14T07:28:00.000-05:00

We did happen to get a few eggplants from the seeds I started last spring. They weren’t perfect—a few brown scars on them—but they certainly cooked into some delish eggplant parmigiana. Eggplant is one of those vegetables that you may think you don’t like until you eat my crispy-crusted, mush-free parmigiana. Wait, did I just say that? Or was it the eggplant talking? Supposedly the eggplant was only eaten in small doses in the middle ages as it had the power to make people rather cuculo—crazy in the head. Which is why I’m bragging absurdly about my cooking, right?

What is crazy is how much I miss my dear Nona. Nona had this inability to see us grandchildren as anything but perfect little angels. Except when we weren’t eating enough food at her house. “You don’t love me! Eat my food!” She would kiss us, telling us in Italian, “Bacio il mio bambino!”, which she would then helpfully translate, “I kiss you my baby.” When my father came to her house for the first time, he won over his future mother-in-law by eating sixteen of her monstrous homemade ravioli. I’d give my right arm for some of those ravioli. Now THAT was food to brag about!

Anyways, garden fresh eggplant is marvelous. No bitterness or toughness at all. But I can’t make you any of my eggplant parmigiana (unless we settle for the grocery store variety) until next summer…

happy apple pie

2011-11-11T17:39:00.001-05:00

Someone particularly special around our house happened to have a recent birthday, and to celebrate I pulled out all the stops and made an apple pie. I know, it’s a pretty average dessert, but when you slice up mounds of fresh, crisp apples, encase them in a flaky lard-butter crust, and bake it to perfection, it makes a pretty nice birthday dessert. Oh, I finally realized I despise adding nutmeg to apple pie. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it, but the pie recipe from one of the cookbooks I received when we were married called for nutmeg, so unwittingly I’ve been ruining all my pies for the past five years. Nutmeg makes apple pies taste like someone’s melted Crayola crayons in them. Why I didn’t realize this before, I haven’t a clue. But this pie was perfect, or so my boys said…

My kitchen helper. He rolled it out, but not to death. (I intervened.)

Mmm… apples…

Fresh from the oven

Give me pie or I shall die!

What a good daddy… sharing his lone candle!

The pieces were almost literally inhaled :)

Happy birthday to my handsome hubs. I love you tons!

camping out

2011-11-01T16:21:00.002-04:00

I love love LOVE camping. The dirt under my fingernails is gross, my hair gets frizzy, and I reek of wood smoke, but there’s something entirely marvelous about being out in the middle of nowhere with no electricity, toilets, and other modern conveniences! With the treetop canopy as our ceiling, the bark of maples and Scotch pine as our walls, and the colorful fallen leaves a fine carpet, it was a house I didn’t want to leave. Although it did seem a bit cold.

We drove into the park as we noticed patches of snow on the ground and freezing rain falling on the van. The hubs, always ever proficient at fire building, set up a tarp to give us a dry place to sit, and got a fire going. He then proceeded to put up our rather large tent with WAY too many poles in the dark. My hero. After roasting some hotdogs, we all crawled into our super huge sleeping bag and stayed pretty warm through the night.

The next morning found the sun poking through the clouds as we all sipped hot cider and hungrily downed eggs and hashbrowns. Camping food tastes so good—there’s just something about all that fresh air that gives one a ravenous appetite. (For the record we had tomato soup and grilled cheese for lunch, lemon-pepper chicken and broccoli for dinner, and pancakes and apple sausage for breakfast the next day. Not to forget the marshmallows! Magnus was enthralled with ~~roasting~~ burning his first marshmallows.) Gosh, I love to eat when I’m camping. Well, anytime actually.

Anyways, we got in three literally awesome hikes around the gorge. The last time we had really done any hiking around there was five years ago. This trip we had two little guys along with us. Magnus did 99% of the walking by himself, but Gunnar’s toddler attention span and lack of stamina left him strapped onto one of our backs. Not to mention, there were some HUGE dropoffs that he could have gone tumbling down.

I took a pile of pictures, but unfortunately the image quality settings got changed on my camera, so they’re not the best. But they’ll do in a pinch… At least you can see how much fun we had over the weekend. I think our boys love camping as much as we do.

love & homegrown tomatoes

2011-10-26T09:56:00.001-04:00

The garden finally put out some tomatoes the past few weeks—not a lot, definitely not enough to can the forty some odd quarts we put up last year—but enough to enjoy some juicy, sweet, vine-ripened deliciousness. I did even have enough to can a few quarts. The chickens (and some other critter) attacked the ripe tomatoes, but the worst thing our tomatoes faced this year was a bit of a late start getting the seedlings going and the fact this year just wasn’t a good one for gardens. Or so I’ve heard…

The greens are doing really well and are not bitter in the least, like they were this summer after baking in the heat. I’ve got to stir fry some of the bok choy one of these days.

The peas are taking off and hopefully will flower and start bearing fruit before the frost, but that should be coming any day, so we’ll see… :)

The sweet potatoes did pretty well, for as late as Joseph planted the slips—we dug them up and just devoured our first baked sweet potatoes last night. YUM!

the very hungry caterpillar

2011-10-24T12:08:00.002-04:00

We were out in the garden the other day when I happened to spot a beautiful caterpillar munching on the parsley. (This caterpillar was smart enough not to devour salami, ice cream, and the likes.) Magnus has only seen nasty white grubs and tiny inchworms so far this summer, so this guy was a big find! I knew he wasn’t a monarch caterpillar, but really other than that, I haven’t a clue about the different species. Evidently he’ll be a black swallowtail butterfly (which were fluttering around our compost last summer). We set him back after watching his orange “horns” pop out a few times—for such a small creature, they certainly can appear rather frightening. I wonder if someday we might even see one build a chrysalis!

fall is here!

2011-10-21T12:54:00.001-04:00

We definitely had our share of HOT weather this summer, but the last few weeks have been gloriously crisp. A few weeks back we got out for a nice walk in the woods with Magnus’s little girl friend London, and the smell of the fallen leaves on the ground just sent me reeling back to the days when Daddy used to rake leaf piles and bury us in them… Most dry days we’ve had lately, we’ve been outside, and one of those, the boys were dressed in their first matching outfit (other than PJs). I had to snap a few pictures of them, and of course neither of them would smile at the camera at the same time. Classic! They stayed clean and spiffy for about a half hour while I took pictures, then the lure of digging in dirt with their hands was too much to resist. :)

pre-schooling

2011-10-19T19:33:00.001-04:00

Now that Magnus is 3-1/2, I figured it’s about time to be a little more intentional about doing preschool stuff together. We’ve been doing a little of this and a little of that—some phonics, math, art, music, and lots of reading. Almost every day, I do a lesson or project in a particular subject. Sometimes he wants to do more, and other times I can’t get him to sit still long enough to finish whatever we’re learning. He’s But he seems to enjoy adding new things to his repertoire—which is the whole point of school isn’t it—a love of learning? I’m trying to give his mind something to keep it busy, but not too much to overwhelm it since we learn so much just in the daily stuff.

I’ve got a pile of different education books that I reference, which I’ll have to list here one of those days I have more time. I kind of just wrote an index of my favorite activities in each book, then figured I could just check the list whenever we needed a project to do. We’ve got a flexible list of goals for the year too, so we don’t leave too many stones unturned.

The math curriculum I found is really simple but comprehensive and teaches counting and other math concepts without a lot of worksheet stuff. Magnus can draw different things, but his fine motor skills aren’t developed enough to be forced to write smallish numbers on lines yet. He’s having fun making big numbers and letters out of beans and tracing them in sand.

He LOVES art and anything to do with paint in particular, so he tried some new non-brush techniques for fun with the tempera paints that Nana sent him. They turned out so marvelous, I hung them on his bedroom wall!

A good number association/counting activity that keeps him busy for awhile because he ends up sorting the beans by color and size afterward.

sugar & spice

2011-10-08T17:46:00.001-04:00

A few weeks ago we had the snips and snails incident. We decided one random September day that we could make up for all that mischief by baking some gingerbread cutouts together. The boys were seriously well-behaved (which is saying a lot for them, because come on, they ARE boys!) and stood on their little chairs next to the kitchen island playing with all our wonderful animal hand-me-down cookie cutters… the elephant, chicken, bear, lion, and duck. It was a cookie parade. The animals marched one by one past our drooling lips… Mmm…

already five

2011-10-01T13:26:00.002-04:00

Happy anniversary to us! Five years and a couple of kids later, we’re just as in love as the day we met, though our love has gotten a little bit more practical. Like we don’t talk for eight hours straight, or we aren’t so sick with love that we aren’t eating, or we don’t take pictures of each other and send them to our friends. Ah, new love… But I like this maturing marital love quite a bit better. It’s trusty and dependable, comfortable like an old sweater, sillier, more forgiving, less apprehensive, heartier, deeper and more understanding than that first love. I LOVE my man.

So in honor of five years, we took a little trip to Indianapolis. We brought the boys with us (who slept most of the ride there), and found things to entertain them while we got to walk and talk and eat delectable nummies. Both of us enjoyed getting out and seeing some new vistas, having no household or work duties, and just kicking back together with a Godiva chocolate cheesecake.

LO
VE

We took a walk along the canal… so peaceful

The next day we ate at a year-round farmer’s market of sorts while the boys napped in the car. They had gourds of all shapes and sizes and lots of other local produce…

They had a plethora of old-fashioned and herbal sodas. I actually found BIRCH BEER. I hadn’t been able to drink a bottle of this stuff since I had it as a child at Sir Ben’s on the Lake. Soooo wintergreen-y good.

And even more delectable was our lunch—salmon in a ginger-citrus glaze on a bed of baby greens and the best smoked pork barbeque EVER. The guy that runs this place has an amazing resume as a chef and certainly perfected these dishes. Drool…

Later that day we went to the Indianapolis Museum of Art, and decided to spend our time walking the grounds of the estate that the museum is built on. Landscaped perfectly with thousands of old trees, it was definitely worth visiting.

More love. :)

Then the morning we left, we stopped by a French bakery that had croissants that rivaled Le Pain Dore in Montreal. Their chocolate-filled were astoundingly buttery.

fun at the fair

2011-09-22T17:22:00.001-04:00

A few days back we met Karen at the seminary’s fall festival. We hadn’t been to one of the seminary’s fairs for a few years, as they weren’t really worth the time, but this one was over the top! With about fifteen different bouncy inflatables for the kiddos, free Chick-Fil-a, free swords, and all sorts of fun things to see and do (including live jousting), this year’s festival was really enjoyable!

Gunnar munching on some Chik-Fil-A

Auntie happily posing. Mags happily eating his first cotton candy.

Mags’s choice of face painting. He makes a handsome tiger, eh?

Saying hello to the horses

The festival (minus the numerous bouncy things which were behind me)

Bouncy love. Magnus could not get enough of these rides…

Gunns woke up from his nap in time to bounce in a tot-sized bouncy house.

what’s growing

2011-09-21T08:10:00.002-04:00

You should see my basil. I didn’t even take a picture of it, but it’s so thick it might as well be an ornamental bush back there. Last year I had Joseph plant a zillion seeds so that we would get enough to make pesto. Well, this year I only planted nine little seedlings in one small area, and that is more than enough. Speaking of which, I need to get busy making the stuff.

It’s pretty rewarding to see so much of our garden come up all from seed. I wasn’t sure what to expect from my eggplant seedlings, but even they’re producing some smallish little aubergines at the moment. I hope we have just enough warm weather left to make them a little larger. Eggplant Parmigiana. Moussaka. Vegetarian curry. Mmm...

We’ve started planting the fall garden. The onions and peas have already sprouted, as have the spinach, lettuce, and bok choy. I’m hoping they love the cooler weather and take off.

The sweet potato slips that Joseph planted have grown thick. I’m curious to see what they will be like when we dig them up.

My herbs (other than basil) didn’t grow quite as thickly or as well as last year. The cilantro just up and died for no good reason, and the dill was scrawny and stalky (pictured below), and took forever to grow. My parsley did all right. I never was able to germinate rosemary.

The jalepenos we started from seed are doing marvelously. We’re freezing them to use in dishes and salsa later on because there’s no way we’re using them all at once. Too H-O-T!

Our green bell peppers this year are lovely. Last year, they were small and a lot of them had nasty worm holes.

Another one of our late summer/fall plantings is green beans. The first harvest earlier in the summer we ate up, leaving little to freeze/can, so when these babies produce, we’ll be in over our heads. Any day now…

good melons

2011-09-18T17:43:00.002-04:00

Thought I’d post some pictures of sweet deliciousness we harvested from the garden. I had planted a couple rows of cantaloupe and watermelon seeds this spring. Due to the cucumber beetles, I had to discard most of the melon plants and wasn’t even sure if any of them would survive long enough to bear fruit. Well, they did! I’m definitely happy that God granted us these warm, juicy, ripe melons to enjoy. Yum.

cluck cluck cluck

2011-09-15T12:20:00.002-04:00

It’s been awhile since I posted any pictures of the dearies themselves. They have definitely grown, though not in height, but most of them have added on a few inches in girth, making them look a lot more like the classic barnyard chicken. I’ll introduce you to most of them…

Meet Pasquelina, the Columbian Rock. She is now definitely a she. We formerly were uncertain regarding her gender due to her prominent comb and waddles. I think she was one of our first layers. Pasquelina was convicted of the crime of egg-eating, caught with the proverbial egg on her face. I think she’s the alpha hen due to some of her dominant behaviors... like being the first to try to squeeze out the door when I open it.

This is Maude. She gave us a scare the other day when she had broken her bottom beak tip and was dripping blood all over the coop and the other hens. It has since healed up perfectly. She’s a very quiet and gentle girl with a fluffy posterior who seems content near the bottom of the pecking order.

This is Dottie, our beautiful Speckled Sussex. This girl happens to be another one of the quieter chickens who scurries away when its feeding time, but sneaks out when she knows its safe. She lays a lighter brown egg.

This is Henrietta, one of the Golden Laced Wyandottes. The other GLW is named Penelope. (So we’ve got a Henny and a Penny!) Both of them are very curious about what is happening around the coop—they tend to peck at my earrings and buttons when bend down to collect eggs.

You already know Daphne, the Barred Rock. I’m guessing she’s going to be one of our best layers in terms of productivity.

Brunhilda, one of the Silver Laced Wyandottes. She’s the one who gave me loads of grief chasing her down back in her wild pullet days. It seems she has mellowed out a bit. The other SLW is Matilda.

And the one you’ve all been waiting for… our handsome Partridge Rock roo! He’s definitely matured into a gentle, but protective rooster. When we come around the coop, he’s aware of our presence but knows we can be trusted. If one of his hens flies the coop, he’ll make a particular cluck that calls them back. This cock crows quite often, starting at the crack of dawn and occasionally throughout the day, but not continually. And he’s a looker, or so the hens think. His plumage is so shiny and iridescent! We still haven’t settled on a name for him and are currently taking anything in the stately and gentlemanly category.

eggs from heaven

2011-09-14T23:40:00.000-04:00

Mrs. Tweedy is quite satisfied with the hens’ current level of egg production. The other day she was alarmed to find SEVEN lovely brown eggs! The girls have been popping those things out like crazy, and I’m thinking that all of them have now crossed the bridge from pullet to hen. We initially had a couple issues with broken eggs—the hubs actually witnessed them attacking and devouring a freshly laid egg, but with their temporary nesting box, they seem to have caught on to the idea of laying them all in a soft, safe place, and the horrific incidences seem to have abated. (Huge sigh of relief…)

Seven eggs in one day. I gave the hens extra goodies that day as thanks for their hard work. :)

Guess which egg is from the store? Yep, the one on the top. (And it’s even a high-quality cage-free egg.) Our yolks are just so much darker.

A dozen of our eggs. Notice the variation in size and color. The eggs are small when they start laying and get larger over time, but the colors seem to stay consistent.

We’ve even had a few DOUBLE YOLKERS. Two yolks in one egg makes for an extra yummy breakfast.

snips & snails

2011-09-12T09:53:00.001-04:00

It happened. The dreaded moment in most every mother's life. My child performed his first haircut, free of charge, and free of parental supervision! Poor little Gunnar provided the locks for Magnus's interpretation of the Barber of L'ville . Gunnar came down the stairs and stood before me. In a state of morbid shock, I noticed very large chunks of his delicious golden hair falling out. I then spied Magnus with the scissors, and proceeded to flip out. What was I thinking?! I mean, I knew this day was coming. I didn't think my children were above this classic reproachful behavior, did I? But all the same, I had just been adoring my baby's lovely sun-kissed long locks, and the scene before me shattered all this.

If I were SuperMom, I would have calmly placed Magnus in his room after gently chiding him for his naughtiness. Instead, I did the whole "How could you do such a thing?" motherly drama routine, then made sure that he realized he must never, ever, EVER (amen!) touch a scissors to anyone's hair (including his own) again. I hope the message sunk in, but the realist in me realizes if Magnus doesn't cut his own, I'll soon be watching Gunnar do the same thing. The good thing is it's just hair, and the strange "layered" look that Gunnar is sporting will soon grow back to normal. It makes me shiver to think of the potential eye gouging or other boo-boos that could have come of scissor play. Scary!

Sigh... the inevitably crazy parts of parenting that in the moment seem so dire, a few hours later seem so much less severe, and several months or years later become hilarious tales of childhood.

The bald spot. It’s all the rage in the fashion-forward GQ, says Magnus.

The good side of Gunnar’s head (post-fix). I attempted to add in some more layers to make the snipping less noticeable.

up north!

2011-09-05T12:15:00.001-04:00

I’ve been intending on posting something the last couple weeks, but with almost 1000 pictures to dig through, the task was just looming large. I finally picked out just a few to share.

The boys did relatively well on the flight up there, so much better (even with a layover) than having to be strapped into a car seat for 15 hours. We got in really late the first night, then spent the first couple days trying to catch up on sleep. I made a point of going into my trusty old hair stylist, as I still haven’t found anyone here than can cut my mane to my satisfaction. The poor guy had to get the floor swept FOUR times while he was cutting my hair! And it’s not even that short now.The boys stayed and played with Grammie while I had a few moments to myself. Ahhh…

Then over the next few days we crammed in a lot of fun! Down to the sandy beach at Park Point for some chilly wet fun! Both the boys must be polar bears as they loved the frigid lake water. Even I went in all the way after a dare from Evan. So. very. refreshing.

Uncle Jornie came over and thrilled the boys with his crazy uncle affections. I think JJ somehow never lost touch with his inner child because he seems to know how to make them laugh like no other. We got to stop by Jorn’s brand new business. Magnus is in the market for a new vehicle, slightly larger than his Hot Wheels, so Uncle Jornie let him test drive an Astro van. My kid is already driving! Actually Magnus had a lot of firsts this trip. He got to pick his first blueberry on a lovely trip up the ruggedly beautiful North Shore. He caught his first fish with Grandpa at the cabin (six sunfish in about twenty minutes!) He drove a big houseboat with Uncle Dave and Aunt Cor on Lake Superior. And he got to drive our vintage runabout at the cabin with Uncle Evan.

That very first sunfish… lucky fish! Magnus was surprised at how pokey the spines on the fins are.

My parents put in lots of effort at making the boys feel at home. They buried dinosaur “fossils” in the sand for them to dig out. Grandpa went digging under all sorts of rotting logs to find worms so Magnus could fish. They got that ol’ 1956 Johnson up and running so we could all get a ride. Gosh, I love the smell of those old motors! My mom had picked up all sorts of lovely toys secondhand so they had lots to play with. Daddy took off the week, so he was available to spend time with us. Grammie and Grandpa blew bubbles non-stop, bought them those nifty “Grow Animal” sponge things to do in the water, threw rocks with them, colored with them, went on the merry-go-round and swings, and even made a batch of cinnamon fingers with Mags the night before we left.

We had a blast on Uncle Dave and Aunt Cor’s big boat, though Gunnar definitely was a little wiggly and would have probably squirmed out of my arms into Lake Superior if he had gotten his way. He kept saying “pool” when he saw the water, which usually means he wants to go swimming. Not the best idea. Magnus surely thought he was a real captain driving the boat up that high.

My Auntie Deb was sweet to drive up for an overnight visit. We were going to drive down together into Wisconsin for some fun at the Mennonite fair, but due to road construction, we decided to skip that, and that day we were able to go out to my Nona’s grave at the cemetery. It’s amazing how much I miss her, and how good it was to have the boys there with us while we grieved. The moment Magnus arrived, he announced that “Nona is going to get up and jump around.” And later as we were sitting near the grave, he asked us, “Is this heaven?” I’ve told him many times that Nona died and went to heaven, so it is perfectly logical that the cemetery could be heaven… especially on such a lovely, sunny day. I then explained to him, that the real Nona was in heaven and that her old body was just buried here. He then proceeded, “Nona is under this dirty old rock?” All these sweet three-year-old insights and their gleeful running among the graves definitely gave both Mama and I much joy!

Sometime in the last couple months, my parents adopted a little dog from my mom’s brother, my Uncle Jan. Her technical name is Autumn, but her spunky little personality has earned her the nickname Muppet (often sung to the Muppet Babies theme song). She was the PERFECT size for the boys, even small enough that Magnus was able to walk her on the leash. The boys loved her, except when she would wake them up with sloppy puppy kisses in the morning. Magnus would use his big boy voice, “Muppy, go away! We are sleeping!”

The weather was PERFECT. Bright blue skies, 70s with low humidity. Such a marvelous break from the hot stickiness that has been most of the summer here. We spent an afternoon at the zoo I grew up going to. We saw the new petting zoo, prairie dogs, llama, cotton topped mandarins, poison dart frogs, wolf, grizzly bear, and that freaky piece of kodiak bear taxidermy that has been there forever and ever. On the way back, we stopped by and visited my great Aunt Arline, still in her lovely old home with all the nifty knick knacks and dolls.

One of those fine-weather evenings, Mama had the marvelous idea of a picnic dinner down at the rose garden. The boys loved running around among the roses and near the fountain, but the mosquitoes were bad even down by the lake, and we packed it up. The mosquitoes were the worst we’ve ever seen in town… forever memorialized as the Mosquito Plaque of ‘11. Before we left, we even fit in a visit to the best toy store in the world, J. Skylark. I could while away hours in there and still not come to boredom.

It was a lovely trip that seemed to go by quickly as always, though we were so happy to come back and see the chickens. And give lots of love and food to my darling hubby who bach’ed it up for a couple weeks.

summertime in minnesota

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the golden egg

2011-08-14T16:38:00.001-04:00

Last night, out of nowhere, a brief but intense storm rolled through town, taking down branches and power lines. Our power went out for maybe six hours, leaving me to fall asleep in a humid house with the boys while the hubs was out all night rescuing homes from downed trees. This morning was clear and the air was cool, so we all sat on the porch eating cream of sprouted wheat and discussing last night’s events. Then the rooster started to crow a bit loudly, and for no apparent reason, so I walked over to the coop with Mags. He told that bird to quiet down while I said good morning to the hens.

The last couple weeks I’ve been obsessively checking for the first egg, and this morning, there it was in all it’s golden brown glory. Our very first egg! Magnus squeezed under the coop (as only a three year old could fit down there) and gently rescued the treasured egg from its plight on the floor. I think the rooster must have heard one of the hens cackling and decided to announce it to the whole neighborhood.

The boys were fighting over who got to hold it, and I was certain that Gunnar’s fat fingers would passionately crush the shell, but the little egg was certainly built well. Whichever chicken popped that beauty out did a fine job! We cracked the egg, the boys took turns scrambling it, and then we cooked it up in the cast iron skillet with a bit of butter and salt. Perfection.

I can’t till we’re in full-scale egg production! Chickens generally start laying from 15 to 20 weeks. Ours are now 18 weeks, so within the next month or two, we should see an increase in eggs before the days grow too short. Hopefully they’ll be happy enough in their insulated coop this winter to keep giving us eggs.

This picture reminded Joseph of Jan Brett’s The Tomten and the Hedgehog. Magnus looks exactly like the naughty little tomten that stole Henny’s egg.

The unwashed egg in some dirty little boy hands.

The same egg cleaned

Gunnar’s attempt at gently handling the egg

Professional scramblers

Small eggs are characteristic for new layers. It’s got a pretty yolk though!

We all had a bite… num num num!

I think God was smiling down at me when I found that first egg… would have been a pity if they had started laying while I was out of town. And yep, the pressure is really on to get those nesting boxes finished, though a few misplaced eggs between now and then shouldn’t matter much as we will still have to train the hens to lay in the nests.

sack o’ taters

2011-08-12T16:27:00.001-04:00

Well, the tops of the potato plants started flopping over a couple weeks back. That means it’s about time to dig the little buggers up. One particularly hot and sunny afternoon—wait, until just a few days ago, the whole summer could have been categorized as “particularly hot and sunny”—all of us took part in the potato harvest. I snipped the tops off, Joseph dug them, Magnus picked them off the root system, and Gunnar supervised and sampled the dirt off of a few of them. Most of the potatoes are Yukon Gold. What we found out this year is that potatoes shouldn’t be planted too deep. They just don’t grow as big. Every garden we plant is a new learning curve. I think these are just about the finest potatoes I’ve ever eaten.

Magnus is actually becoming useful in the garden. He can differentiate between weeds and plants (most of the time), has no fear of getting dirty, and takes great pride in being helpful to Daddy.

Yes. He is for real. This kid has personality.

Note: I love this one. Gunns is my very own little garden gnome. I mean, what could be cuter? Like I’ve been saying, it’s pretty hard to keep clothes on these kids in this doggone heat. And in our fenced backyard, who cares? (Well, other than the nosy neighbor boy who is perpetually climbing over the fence.)

See that mosquito trying to eat my baby? It’s not alive anymore. The muggy days certainly make for some serious mosquito breeding. I go outside for ten minutes and come back in with eight bites.

homemade sauerkraut

2011-08-08T14:34:00.003-04:00

In the same vein as the previous pickle post, here’s the recipe/instructions I use to make the absolutely most deliciousest sauerkraut outside of Germany. It worked perfectly last year and this. Before we left for the beach, I had processed through a good pile of our cabbages, and within a couple weeks, we had a huge batch of kraut. Like more than 25 pounds of the stuff!

I just love how lazy the whole process is. Prep the cabbage. Measure in the salt. Smash it down, weigh it down, cover it, stick it in a cool place, and let it do it’s thing. It’s kind of magical! We ended up canning a few quarts of it due to the fact we have limited refrigerator space, but here’s what it looks like. Just imagine what it tastes like… Crunchy, tangy, perfectly salted. I start salivating thinking about the potential reubens, brats, roasts, Hofbrauhaus soup…

fermented dill pickles

2011-08-08T11:43:00.005-04:00

Last year I did some experimenting in lacto-fermentation to preserve some of the fresh goodness from our garden. Sauerkraut, dill pickles, and salsa were the things I tried, and though each batch was slightly different than the others (due to temperature, spices available, mismeasurement of salt), most of them were a success and lasted through the winter into this spring with no mold. I kept them in the fridge to ensure proper preservation. If I had a temperature-controlled root cellar, that's where they would have been. But alas!

I've had a couple requests for the pickle recipe. Do be aware that these are slightly saltier than your average Claussen-esque deli-style pickle. If they turn out to be so salty that you don't like them, that can be alleviated by a long soak in some cold water in the fridge (for 1-2 days or until they've leeched out a lot of the brine. Just eat the ones you soak as they won't store as long without the brine.)

Most of this has been borrowed from Wild Fermentation. I've made a few changes, but the basic recipe is below:

To make 1 gallon of pickles, you'll need:

4 lbs. garden FRESH (not the waxy store kind) cucumbers
5-6 T pickling salt
3 heads fresh dill
2 bulbs of garlic, cloves peeled and minced
1 handful just-picked oak leaves (WEIRD, but essential for crispness due to tannins)
2 T black peppercorns
2 T whole brown or yellow mustard seeds

Rinse cucumbers. Cut off both ends (or just blossom ends). Soak the cukes for a couple of hours in ice water.
Dissolve salt in ½ gallon of filtered water to create brine solution. Stir until salt is thoroughly dissolved.
Clean either a food-grace ceramic or plastic crock (capacity 2+ gallons), then place oak leaves, dill, garlic, peppercorns, and mustard at the bottom.
Place cold cucumbers in the crock.
Pour brine over the cucumbers, place a clean plate over them, then weigh it down with a jug filled with water or a boiled rock. If the brine doesn’t cover the weighed-down plate, add more brine mixed at the same ratio of just under 1 tablespoon of salt to each cup of filtered water.
Cover the crock with a lid and seal to keep out dust and flies and store it in a cool place (ideal temp is between 65 and 75).
Check the crock every day. Skim any mold from the surface, but don’t worry if you can’t get it all. If there’s mold, be sure to rinse the plate and weight. Taste the pickles after a few days. Continue to check the crock every day.
Eventually, after one to four weeks (depending on the temperature), the pickles will be fully sour. Continue to enjoy them, moving them to the fridge to slow down fermentation.
If you store the pickles in mason jars after their fermentation, the metal rims/lids will probably rust some. If you use plastic lids, they will probably soak up the pickle odor. Just so you know... :)
If the pickles are too salty, do a desalinating brine (soak in water in fridge for 12-48 hours and test). They won't store as long this way, but they may be more palatable for some. Also, if you want them sourer, you can add a little vinegar to the already fermented jars in your fridge.

bootie-licious

2011-08-05T10:25:00.001-04:00

My cousin and his wife are expecting their first baby—a girl! As I live a wee bit too far away to drive to the shower, I had to knit up some love for this little one. We’re so excited to welcome a new cousin into the family!

(Aside: Knitting with two small children underfoot is much harder than one might think. First of all, I haven’t picked up any needles since I knit hats for the boys before Gunnar’s birth. Secondly, balls of yarn are entirely irresistible to toddlers. Gunnar might as well have been a kitten the way he was pouncing and strewing the pink yarn around. Magnus wanted to play poke-your-eye-out with the knitting needles. But I got them done, even though I miscounted rows on the first bootie, leaving it grotesquely larger than the other. Oh yes… keeping track of stitches/rows whilst brokering sibling disputes and doing diaper duty: near impossible. After knitting three booties, the last two turned out just about perfect! I think Nona must have been smiling down at me.)

cock a doodle ROO!

2011-08-03T08:00:00.001-04:00

The boys heard the Partridge Rock crow for the first time this morning! He’s definitely a rooster. Now I’m just waiting to see if the white chicken will be a boy too. It seems like chickens are one of the sneakiest creatures in revealing their gender. I mean, yeah, they do the boy/girl vent check at the hatcheries, which is usually 90% accurate, but waiting for some till 17 weeks to know for certain seems just a bit ridiculous. I had a hunch with this guy early on, but I’m still not for certain with that white Colombian Rock. His/her comb and waddles are even larger than the certified roo! I decided to enlist the help of a few chicken experts online and posted a few pictures. Much to my surprise, most of them said hen (due to the lack of pointy saddle feathers and daintier feet). If that’s the case, I’ll need to come up with a good alpha hen name for her.

I keep checking around the run for eggs because anytime in the 15-20 week age range, these girls should start laying. I keep wondering if I’m missing them-- that they’re blending into the dirt floor or being eaten up before I can find them. Evidently some chickens will peck at their own eggs. Time to get those egg boxes finished up!

The man of the coop. I’m kind of leaning toward Horatio for a name. (Though Joseph's recommendations are "Rooster" and "Dinner".) His feathers are becoming more iridescent blue-green , and he’s got this hilarious white downy bustle.

The bird of undetermined gender (B.O.U.G.)…

Even her eyes are pretty!

Out and about in the driveway. So far I’m thinking Maude for the Buff Orpington. That or Gertrude.

Daphne, Barred Rock extraordinaire

Mags chasing the B.O.U.G. Both of them are sweltering in the heat.

something’s fishy

2011-08-01T22:02:00.000-04:00

I made a big boo boo doing laundry the other day: I washed a towel that had been used to wipe up a miniscule amount of cod liver oil WITH the rest of a load. Without thinking, I made the whole load smell like it had come off a nasty fishing boat. I threw the load back in the washer assuming that enough detergent might get the smell out. Nope. Oxiclean? Nope. Baking soda? Nope. Vinegar? No way. Dish detergent? No how. I decided as a last resort to try sunning the clothes on the laundry line for a couple days. That seemed to get most of the fish odor out of the clothes, but a few items still smelled off, so I soaked the rest of them in a solution of water and Goo Gone, laundered them, and was happy to find the clothes smelled fresh again! Never again will I use a cloth rag to wipe up fish oil, and never again will I contaminate a whole load with one stinky item.

On another note, the dryer has decided to temporarily stop working. I’m sure my dear man will get it up and running soon, but in the mean time I’ve been harnessing the power of the sun and intense heat we’ve had lately to dry our clothes. It’s so hot that within just a few minutes of hanging, some of woven cotton items are almost fully dry! I’ve been enjoying looking out the window at the mosaic of little boys’ clothes and diapers. There’s something to be said for the freshness and goodness of line drying… I think I’d do it more in general if it weren’t for the mosquitoes. And the fact that the convenience of the dryer spurs my laziness.

the plague of the cuke beetles

2011-07-31T19:55:00.000-04:00

Something that has struck me as we’ve been gardening the past couple years is how entirely catastrophic plagues of biblical proportion must have been. We’re not dependent on our harvest like agrarian cultures are, but it’s still a blow to see the plants you nurture from seed fall victim to the appetites of hungry little varmints.

Before we left for the beach, I had noticed a few of my cucumber and zucchini plants wilting. The plants surrounding them looked fine. I googled the problem and found that my issue was bacterial wilt and it was most likely due to some rather cute striped and spotted bugs: the cucumber beetle. They bore holes into the stalk and root system, and the plant is pretty much history. I sprinkled some diatomaceous earth (DE) around the base of each plant and called my mother to ask her to pray for mercy for the garden. (The beetles will attack anything in the curcubit family: watermelons, cantaloupe, squash, cucumbers, etc.)

I’ve had to chuck quite a few plants, but the damage has apparently slowed over the last week. I’m just praying the melons and cantaloupes will get enough time on the vine to ripen!

Some damage to the stalk of a zucchini plant

Cucumber that made it! (Leaves dusted with DE)

The bell pepper plants are getting fuller

Dill is growing, but not quite as weed-like as I’d hoped.

Eggplant, artichokes, and jalepenos (center row) are getting big.

Our very first watermelon!

…and the first cantaloupe!

We’ve got loads of carrots. Some are sweeter than others. We’re learning that it’s probably better to harvest them before it gets to the dead heat of summer.

The tomatoes are bearing fruit. We’re just waiting for them to turn red!

A few sweet potatoes had started to sprout, so Joseph buried them and then planted the slips. Can’t wait to eat our own sweet potatoes.

A freshly picked onion

the beach 2011

2011-07-28T19:21:00.003-04:00

I’ve got about a million pictures of the boys at the beach and had the WORST time sorting through them for a blog post! I might have to split this into two posts. Yep, we made it to and from the beach (13ish hours one way) in the span of about five days. The only minor inconvenience was the fact the condenser on the Ghetto Cruiser developed a hole the size of Texas, leaving us doing the whole trip with the windows down. It wasn’t too bad on the way down due to the overcast skies, but the heat wave we hit on the way back was something else! We had to stop for dinner at a nice restaurant to “borrow” their air conditioning. (Which reminds me why we don’t eat out with the boys at this age. Magnus was “done” eating almost immediately, and Gunnar would not sit still in his booster seat and ate the crayons that came with the menu. Joseph and I swapped turns holding Gunnar while we both forked down the food as fast as humanly possible. End of tangent.)

We did stop for the night halfway at a hotel so we all could get a good night’s rest. SO nice. I can’t imagine busting out the whole trip now that we’ve got two squirmy kiddos. After we left the hotel, we visited with my grandpa for a little while, then finished the last leg of the journey. It was raining when we reached the beach, but the boys didn’t care and ran down to the ocean anyways!

It’s always so nice to spend time with Joseph’s side of the family… we always have good food and fun together! We especially enjoyed being able to spend time with Joseph’s sweet grandparents. I realized I didn’t get as many pictures of family as I had hoped, since I was down on the beach playing lifeguard with the boys most of the time we were there. Last year, Gunnar was a relatively indifferent baby. This year, he was thrilled to be digging in the sand and blowing bubbles in the tide pools. Magnus attacked the waves with the same gusto, though he didn’t perpetually run up and down the shoreline this year. He generally parked his butt on the sand and played sand trucks with London and Lars.

Ready for the LOAD of pictures?

The car ride: Magnus beating the heat

The car ride: Gunnar’s sweaty little scowl.

The classic right-before-we-say-goodbye picture. I think someone needs a nap!

Gunnar’s first dumbfounded look at the ocean. Just woke up from aforementioned nap.

Ooh, water! Run!

Wow. That’s a lot of water.

Get a little wet.

Run around and scream like banshees!

Happy very wet boy on the beach.

Splashing: a good way to get soaked.

Rain: another good way to get soaked.

Not a soul on the beach when we arrived!

The next morning on the beach. Bright and early!

Crab! We were able to catch one of the sand crabs and throw it in a bucket later that day. Magnus learned how to pick them up without getting nipped.

Says the Crowned Prince of Earthiness, “This dirt is subpar to the rich soil at home I am accustomed to. Somebody please dispose of this inedible matter.”

The tide pools are perfect for the kids to play in.

Almost asleep. Beach naps are where it’s at.

Helping Daddy set up the beach umbrella

I actually caught Mags a live hermit crab (which he then promptly lost among the millions of little shells on the beach).

Catching seaweed in the surf

What a grin!

Poor Magnus: lathered in mineral sunblock with a baby hat on. He got a little pink the first day.

Great Mama holding sleepy little Lars

Beach nap #4

Mama and Papa under the umbrellas

Gunns and Nana catching some rays in a tide pool

A few shots of just Gunns: 1. The scowl

2. The nefarious snicker

3. Mildly entertained

4. The social smile

Gunnar has lately been obsessed with shoes, any shoes. It’s pretty funny (and dangerous) when he tries to walk around in sandals three times too big!

Beach tradition of eating at Captain Nance’s

A clear evening on the beach. The boys (especially Gunnar) were dancing in the moonlight.

Conversation with Great Papa

Getting tickled by Pappy

Gunns LOVED the waves hitting him. That’s about as big as his smile gets!

Sand trucks were the hit toy for those in the 1-3 year age group

Nana and Mags having fun in the waves

Auntie Karen and beach nap #10

The boys of summer!

Road sign of the year at one of the places we stopped to fuel on the way home (though I’m not sure that it beats Stinking Creek Dam Road)

the darndest things

2011-07-22T20:13:00.003-04:00

Both the boys are at a really fun age. Gunnar isn't quite into the tantruming twos, and Magnus is now able to communicate not only his wants and needs but all sorts of fascinating and drole observations, some of which I've attempted to record. So many cute things slip by without my remembering to jot them down! Here's a few of Magnus's latest and greatest:

"Mama, I beed a good boy." [He’s been more affectionate lately, switching from calling me Mommy to Mama. I love this kid.]

Me: "Do you want to get Daddy an ice cream cone for Father's Day?" Magnus: "No, I want to get me an ice cream cone for Boy's Day." [Boy's Day? What is that? Somebody call Hallmark and let them know.]

"I got a throat." [Mags says this anytime he has a tickle in his throat.]

"I went to the park last day." ["Last day" is his way of communicating things that happened in the past, be it five minutes ago, yesterday, or six months ago.]

"I'm growing up because I'm putting dishes in the sink." "I'm growing up so I can help you."

After Sunday School I was informed by one of the teacher's assistants that Magnus had stuck playdough in somebody else's nose. That's my boy!

"I don't know what is good about it, but something is." [Referring to the roast chicken skin he was devouring.]

"Daddy you just saved my life!" Mags said in a relieved fashion after Joseph had just killed a housefly.

“I killed the bad, big, giant tormado [tornado]. I saved you and Daddy and Gunnar. I killed the tormado in half with a gun. I don’t know where I got the gun. I don’t know how I did that.”

After eating a strawberry and handing me a small part of the green/white core, “I ate the whole strawberry, Mama. Here’s the bone.”

When listening to some thunder recently, Magnus announced, "Someone must be cracking a giant egg. Or it's an airplane."

When mentioning that Christ will return riding a white horse and wearing a crown, Magnus said, "Jesus is a cowboy!" He then proceeded to sing the doxology.

Gunnar talks and babbles all the time with his cute little words. He’s learning how to ask for help with things, learning how to move the step stool to get into mischief on the counter, and otherwise just being his uber darling self. He still has the big fat tears that roll down his cheeks. He’s so SAD when he cries that it’s almost entertaining to watch! He recently has taken up prostrating himself on the ground, throwing himself backwards when he’s upset. And he scowls like nobody’s business. He even says “EEEW” when he needs his dirty diaper changed. I love my tummy tot!

sunflowers and radio flyers

2011-07-16T21:21:00.001-04:00

Magnus was thrilled the other day to find the very first sunflower. He had helped me plant the little black seeds in the soil just a couple months back and already they are heads above him! I love looking in that part of the yard now that several more blooms are out. That much yellow just screams exhilaration and joy.

Who looks sunnier?

The boys have been playing together a lot lately—Mags not only sharing his beloved trike with his kid brother, but also giving him rides. Gunns is happy as a clam.

Magnus pedals that trike with a fervor. He looks so much like his daddy in this picture.

The first patty pan summer squash (more on the demise of these in the next post…)

First tomatoes are appearing finally!

The onions are pushing up out of the ground

Our first cabbage haul a week ago. One word: SAUERKRAUT.

those darned chickens

2011-07-13T16:43:00.006-04:00

Days exist where I love owning chickens… like today. They’re all happy and properly contained IN their coop (which is closer to completion). Unfortunately there are also days where I have been *this* close to wringing their scrawny necks.

A couple months back now, Joseph let the chickens out to range on the lawn… right before the most torrential downpour ever. I volunteered to save the chickens from their own stupidity. They were standing in the middle of the yard getting drenched. That was one of those days.

Another one of those kill-the-chicken sort of days happened right as I was busy trying to get ready for company. The neighboring dogs decided to freak me out by digging a hole under the fence near the coop. As it was dusk, I couldn’t tell what kind of animal was moving around, so I left the door open long enough for the whole flock to amscray. I mean they FLEW out of the coop to their old digs near the garage. Oops. So I had to round the miserable creatures up in the dark. After blindly tripping over several plants in the garden, donating a few tablespoons of blood to the local mosquito food bank, and desperately borrowing the highest-powered flashlight known to mankind from my husband, I had all the birds caged up. Or so I thought. I did a head count and was one short. “Where the heck is that everloving chicken?!” I mumbled to myself. Well, I think that’s what I said. It might have been worse, but we’ll just leave it at that. So I went looking through the entire yard, which became particularly eerie in the unnatural light of the flashlight. Every shadow was moving, and I swore that an opossum or raccoon was going to jump out and hiss at me. After scouring every nook and cranny of the yard, I had just about given up the chicken to whatever stray cat wanted it for a free meal. And then I found it. The silver laced wyandotte was up in the rafters of the garage hiding craftily. That was one of those days too.

The dreadful creature mentioned above. Is the name Brunhilda too kind? Jezebel? (Other suggestions welcome.)

Rooster #1. I haven’t yet named him or the other potential rooster(s). His feathers are becoming a lovely iridescent blue-green. 100% certain he’s a rooster.

The loveliest of the Wyandottes. She would be Chanticleer’s Pertelote. I’m not yet settled on a name for her. She’s got the prettiest little head and neck.

A few of the chickens out for a stroll

This picture’s a bit blurry (taken through two layers of child-smudged glass), but I caught the birds roosting out on the porch. I love roosting chickens. Did I say roasting? Wow. The difference one letter can make.

So the coop is nearly done. I think I said that last time, but my dear man was able to actually finish the run to the point that we could get them out of the garage. We both had it to here with feathers and shavings falling out of their makeshift cage. Not to mention, the free range thing is nice if your biddies are smart enough to come when called. Our flock as a whole has an IQ of maybe 3 on a good day.

Anyways, my dear man had made some progress on the interior of the coop itself, but we decided since they aren’t quite of laying age yet (and the weather is fine), that we would just finish the painting, egg boxes, and final wall and door construction in the next few weeks. I snapped a couple pictures of the progress before he popped up the piece of plywood to keep the chickens out of the coop and in the run.

All the hardware mesh is installed. We have a door! The next steps were to install a latch to keep the mischiefs from letting the chickens out and also to install a spring to auto shut the door if it is opened.

This is part of the run directly under the coop. The chickens love it back there.

Happily confined! They still get out for the occasional romp, but for the next few weeks, they’re stuck in there. I’m hoping it will program them to know that the coop is their home.

I think the coop might also be considered the world’s best fort. Or the most buggy screen porch. Choose your own adventure. We really don’t play in there. It’s not particularly clean. :)

The chickens waiting by the door. The white one in front has suddenly sprouted a massive comb and waddle. It will be a miracle if it’s not a rooster. So sad!

This is Daphne, one of the few that actually have names. I’m not sure why I picked that name, but it just fit her sweet and friendly personality.

And another one of the pretty gold-laced wyandotte. I gotta name this girl!

“Chicken a la Magnus” or “One Way to Scramble an Egg”. Classic.

how does your garden grow?

2011-07-06T12:29:00.003-04:00

Time during the summer just flies. The long days seem to pass quickly, every one filled to the brim with literal life. We’re watching the garden, the chickens, and the boys grow right in front of our eyes… it’s a dirty, beautiful mess. These pictures are already almost two weeks old, so the garden has changed quite a bit in that time.

Several of the plants in the garden have already produced—the raspberries are done (we didn’t have many), the first crop of green beans has slowed down, the broccoli is just producing smaller heads now, and the cabbages are just about perfect. I’m in for some major sauerkraut manufacturing this year! My lettuce bed has been thriving and is producing lovely greens for salads. The zucchini, summer squash, cucumbers and watermelons are all flowering, so I’m expecting some fruit to start developing soon. The tomatoes and peppers are shooting up. Everything in the raised bed seems to be taking its time, including the peas. I did start it all later than the rest of the garden. Hmm…

Anyhow, the only pestilences we’ve had this year have been the chickens attacking some of the leaves on the plants, and this random blight that’s caused the leaves to wither on a couple of the zucchini and cucumber plants. Oh, and the birds ate every. single. blueberry. I was mad about that! So we’re going to tent some netting over them next year to prevent the same misery from occurring.

Enough talking!

“Hello I am GLORIOUSLY FILTHY”

Peeking out of the unfinished coop

Onion blossoms

The havoc wrought upon the broccoli by the chickens. Fortunately they didn’t touch the heads, just the leaves.

And what they pecked out of the cabbage…

The zucchini and summer squash leaves are huge (MUCH bigger today).

First carrots of the year!

First crop green beans

fireflies

2011-07-05T11:24:00.000-04:00

A couple weeks back Daddy took Magnus out in the backyard for his first firefly catching endeavor. Magnus was pretty thrilled to find the little guys! There is definitely something wondrous and almost magical about fireflies flitting across the yard at the end of these long summer days…

berry picking day 2011

2011-06-23T14:15:00.006-04:00

Last year we went strawberry picking as a family for the first time. The weather had been hot, even earlier in the day, but the strawberries were abundant. This year we postponed it till a little bit too late in the season, so the pickings were slim. We were hunting for what berries were left that hadn’t gone south, been stepped on, or eaten by bugs. The weather this year however was absolutely perfect—low humidity, bright blue skies, cool breezes. I could have just lain in the field all day long.

I got smart this year and dressed the boys in RED. Strawberry stains don’t show up on red.

I seriously want to eat this child up. He's so nummy.

The boys and Daddy feeding the monster fish

Magnus with our measly box of berries

Yes, even I was able to pick this year, thanks to two mobile children!

Umm... where are the strawberries?

Found one, Mom! Or what used to be a strawberry...

Riding on the tractor

The poor kiddo was sick. This was the only smile I got out of him all day.

The boys watching the swan

Glorious weather!

The world's scrawniest ducks. I wanted to take them home and feed them.

Gunnar got the memo regarding smiling. Magnus had to force himself to look less miserable.

nana & pappy

2011-06-22T14:00:00.000-04:00

It’s about time I put up a real picture of Nana and Pappy and the boys during their recent visit. We loved every day we had with Joseph’s wonderful parents. Such a blessing to spend time together, splash with the boys in their new pool, and try out our first grill!

Unfortunately we always save the family pictures till the last minute, so the kids are never thrilled at the moment their beloved family is leaving. Magnus is faking a smile and Gunnar looks like he’s got something in his pants. :)

reality cyber-tv

2011-06-21T13:20:00.006-04:00

I thought I'd be the star of my own show and start blogging a little bit of what goes on behind closed doors around here. Reality TV is thriving probably partially because people like to have the scoop on others' lives and partially because it makes them feel better about themselves. So lest I paint an idyllic picture of our life on the blog, here's a few of the typical things that happen around here on any random day.

After a recent church service, we get a report from a teacher's aide that during the activity time, Magnus inserted playdough into another kid's nose. Nice. These sort of things are normal. My children are not that well-behaved, however angelic they appear. They like to have fun and they don't understand personal boundaries perfectly. Magnus tries to pick Gunnar's boogers now and again. I won't mention if he eats them.
I never got sick before having children. Now I get sick several times a year. It's usually just a cold, but the progression of sickness from one member of the household over the span of a week or more gets annoying. The boys are infamous for getting their snot everywhere. I don't even bother changing my clothes when they're sick because they use me as a giant Kleenex. We're currently still kicking some cold that we got last week. I am certain that heaven will be virus-free.
Patience is a virtue I'm working on. I wish I were the perfect picture of gentle mothering, but I'm not. The twos for Magnus were rough on him, let alone me. He used to get frustrated about everything which would lead to major meltdowns, which of course were not entirely easy to diffuse with a sweet smile on my face. Take for example his reaction every time we would get home from an outing. As soon as we were within a few blocks of the house, the kid would break down with screams of "I don't want to go home!" Oh, the terror. I tried just about every disciplinary approach to this-- ignoring it, punishment, consequences. Either something worked, or more likely, he just grew out of it and realized that home is actually quite fun. We haven't had a tantrum about that for months now. Thank you, God!
Magnus has been unexpectedly sweet lately. Of his own accord he's been hugging me and telling me of his love for me. He's also been telling Gunnar that they are best friends, and inviting Gunnar to his room to play with his cars. Moments like these make me feel like I'm dreaming or took too much Nyquil.
I'm not much of a social butterfly. It takes lot of effort to be a mother-about-town. I think between attempting to manage this ~~pig sty~~ house, preparing food (and I love to cook), keeping the boys out of each other's hair, and all the other mischief I get into, hanging out with people just kind of ends up on the back burner. Which isn't what I want... I'm trying to reform. Really. I may not be able to offer an uninterrupted, intellectually stimulating conversation, but I do know how to thoroughly wipe a baby's bum blindfolded in five seconds flat. Talented, I know...
My kitchen floor is almost always messy. I sweep it every morning and by the end of the day, it looks like the fairy of filth sprinkled a heavy dusting of gross in there. I've come to terms with the dirt. Last summer I was washing the floor every day. The white/light grey ceramic tiles do little to hide imperfections, and I just CAN'T keep it clean with three dirty guys traipsing around. The mandatory shoes-off policy is followed, and still the dirt just oozes out of their pores onto the floor. I am inventing the first patented self-cleaning floor.
I'm a wimp when it comes to the heat. Well, most of you probably knew that about me, but I complain about it a lot when I happen to be subjected to the misery of an 88+ degree, high humidity day. There are reasons that someone chose the name Death Valley. I mean heat kills people. (Cold does too for that matter, but one can always throw more logs on the fire and put more clothes on. There are few practical ways of truly cooling off without electricity.) My husband works all day in the heat and never whines. He's the stoic Scandinavian I always wanted to be (minus the Scandinavian).

I'm not (at the moment) complaining about boogers, dirt, and the like. I am extremely grateful for and find much joy in the daily stuff. I was just hoping to help paint a more realistic mental image for those of you who might be imagining us frolicking in the air-conditioned backyard with our perpetually obedient, spotlessly clean children. :-)

all cooped up (almost!)

2011-06-16T14:17:00.003-04:00

The chickens are still growing, though it seems to be not quite as perceptible as the first few weeks when they went from downy balls of cuteness to ugly dinosaur chicks to miniature chickens. Lately it’s been more development of their feather patterning and just a general fattening up.

Yesterday, I had a couple of them out with us in the yard. The big white one had picked up a worm (or so I thought it was) and was running around in a state of frenzy. I caught her, she dropped her food item, and I threw her in the cage. I went out after and inspected what had been in her mouth… a baby robin! Yuck! Poor little baby bird. Magnus happened to be watching all this, so we had a little funeral, thanking God for the poor creature and praying that the chickens would stick to bugs for their protein. It just seems so much less heartless.

The chickens in the garden, tails up
The buff orpington

The white one taking a dust bath. She's into cleanliness, like a little OCD about it.

They haven't wreaked too much havoc in the garden yet other than eating the leaves off the green beans.

Behind the coop. It's where all the cool chicks go to umm ... stay cool.

Just to show how big the chickens are getting...

The coop is coming along. We were blessed to have Joseph’s parents out here recently, so Joseph and his father were able to get some decent progress made. Construction is just taking a bit longer than we anticipated. Their home is going to be nicer than ours! We’re installing mahogany paneling inside, a miniature crystal chandelier, and custom ceramic tiling. Right... Since these pictures, hubby's put up some of the walls and finished a few more things.

The coop (aerial view) prior to any new construction

Securing the roof beams

Daddy's little helper!

Metal roof installed. Check.

The buff seems pleased with the progress

Installing insulation in the wall framing. It's beginning to look like a coop!

The man who makes it all happen...

Pappy checking out the hardware cloth. Thanks for all the help, Dad!

old pictures

2011-06-15T12:27:00.007-04:00

Black and white pictures are fascinating, particularly when they have meaningful history attached to them, and even more so if they’re of family. Pictures give me fodder for imagination, making me feel connected to things past. I imagine my Nona as a young woman, cooking and tending babies as I now am, or what life might have been like on her Italian grandparents’ farm as I’m chasing the chickens or weeding the garden. Most of the surviving pictures don’t provide the accompanying context (sometimes a date and people listed), but together with stories that we heard over and over create a piecemeal living history. While I was home for Christmas, I ran across a small stash of some pictures from my mother’s Italian side... so here they are!

One of the ways that we can preserve history for future generations is not only by taking pictures, but by also writing down things about our lives. What are some of our favorite childhood memories? What places have we visited? What sort of historical events have we lived through? I wish that my Nona had taken the time to write down more of her life. I did happen to catch a few wonderful stories of hers on video. All these memories are so precious! We all ought to pull out a journal some lazy Saturday this summer and write about such things.

Uncle Larry atop [can't remember who's] shoulders in front of my great-great grandfather Memmola's grocery store

Dinner party with Nona being the hostess with the mostest (far left, smiling)

Cousin Lorraine (left), Nona (right) on a picnic... is that a bottle of 7up on the table?

Another picture from the same picnic... Nona is seriously gorgeous!

Newspaper clipping about Uncle Larry the barber's bald spot. Ha.

Nona as a one year old being held by her aunt

Great great grandmother Pasquelina Memmola by the well pump

This picture is a hoot. I can't remember who it was, but the sight of two ladies in a carriage out catching some whoppers is just priceless!

Nona's mother, my great grandmother, Rose. I never met her, but from everything I've heard, she was the sweetest lady.

The family in front of the farmhouse built by Pasquale. They were the first white settlers in the area, and Nona used to tell tales of the Indians that used to dance around the house. The house is actually still standing and was renovated into a gift shop.

Close up of the family from the previous picture. Not sure who is who.

Did I say first "white" settlers? Gosh, I think I was wrong. Grandma Pasquelina is looking a little dark in this picture. Must have been after a summer of the sun beating on her Siciliano skin.

Here she is again... looking a bit fairer and a lot more like the classic grandmother.

If anybody in the fam has stories on these photos (or better information), please feel free to post a comment!

shades of green

2011-06-09T13:36:00.003-04:00

One of the things I find particularly delightful about gardening is the spectrum of greens. The bluish green of the broccoli, the spring green of the new lettuce, the cabbage’s pale green, the dark green of the tomato leaves. My favorite color has always been blue, but lately green’s shooting up in my list.

One of the still small bell pepper seedlings

Swiss chard, romaine, and mixed salad greens

Young, sweet broccoli heads

The carrots are so dense that the weeds don't have a chance!

The cabbage heads are starting to form...

The beans are flowering

Cucumber seedlings

Blackberry flowers bearing some fruit

Joseph recently was able to plant the tomato seedlings, put up the tomato stakes, plant and cage the peppers, and get a large portion of the garden mulched. Not to mention building a raised bed out of old log beams. Last summer my hands were tied up more with a new baby, so it has been a joy to be able to be a bit more useful this season. I've been taking on most of the lighter gardening chores-- tending the seedlings, weeding, and watering. The hubs does all the brute manpower things. We've got a good synergy going on... (The boys innocently trample the little plants and function as my little gnomes. I swear I'm going to sew them pointed hats one of these days.) Gardening is a fair amount of work, but well worth the effort, particularly come harvest. The most beautiful things in life do need a bit of cultivation, don't they?

up, up, and away

2011-06-08T17:01:00.002-04:00

One of the perks of Joseph’s line of work is the occasional joy ride. (Remember back when Magnus drove the skid steer?) Well, this time around, Magnus got a personalized ferris wheel ride in his own backyard!

Don't worry... he was safely secured by a certified arborist.

Going UP!

Aerial photos of the garden. In the second picture, you can see the new raised bed on the left side of the yard.

And the holz hausen...

In the big blue sky

Pappy even got a ride with the boys

Gunns wisely kept both feet planted on the ground...

Nana and a wrench kept him company.

Wishing he were less wiggly and a couple years older...

The wrench was almost as thrilling though.

the tomten

2011-06-07T13:27:00.003-04:00

In Swedish folklore, there’s a little man who if not fed his Christmas porridge makes all kinds of mischief for the farmer. The other day I must have forgotten to feed my tomten his oatmeal because I discovered him involved in some rather dangerous mischief-making, namely climbing on top of the holz hausen. The crime deserved a punishment… which in Gunnar’s book deserves some good company.

Note that Magnus is dressed. There’s only so much I can do to keep these boys in clothing.

It was one of those days that he was literally jumping off the wall (much to the enjoyment of the little brother.)

A full view of the holz hausen. This one is Joseph’s latest work of art.

After having conquered the Mount of Logs, Magnus revels in his brief moment of victory before his punishment is meted out.

The mugshot. Criminal successfully booked.

“I didn’t know inmates could have visitors. First class jail!”

Gunnar’s empathy is so sweet.

All I can say is with faces like these, the prison sentence was drastically shortened.