art

long and lovely weekend

We thoroughly soaked up our long weekend around here.  Papa worked Thanksgiving day, but Claire and I brought the necessary provisions to the station to make coffee and pumpkin pancakes (an official tradition in our home now, with this the third year of us making them on Thanksgiving morning) for him and his crew.  We stayed for a couple hours and then headed out to my dad's to visit and prepare a meal together.  And then it was home, to make stuffing and mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce that we wheeled down the block to our dear neighbors' home, where we shared our evening meal.  These particular neighbors have welcomed Claire and I to their holiday table on several occasions and it seems to be becoming a tradition that we crash their place when papa is working.  We love them in general though, not just because of that.

A lot of out and about-ing, a lot of cooking, but strangely, no stress.  A lovely, if a bit wonky, Thanksgiving day.  There was also this pie.  Yum.  I will be needing to get her (Ashley English's) new pie book as soon as possible, I do think.

I spent several hours this weekend playing around with a new little addiction, recycled t shirt rugs made using a hula hoop as a loom.  It started as a project with the kids at art class, then I had to make one for Claire.  Then I wanted to see about making a rectangular one.  And now I'm hooked.  Now I want to make one for our kitchen, our bathroom, in front of the fire.......

They are so easy.  And it is meditative and welcomingly mind-numbing to sit by the fire and weave while I snack on something or other and gaze at the recently hung twinkly lights.  Ahhhhhhh.  Under, over, under, over.......

There was also some back yard play with a neighbor friend.  Leaf raking, chicken chasing, rug weaving.  And snacking, with the pumpkin custard dish shared three ways.  There's always a bit of pie filling left when I make pumpkin pie, and there's NO way I'm going to toss that goodness.  And so, pumpkin custard cups.

Lots of happy side-by-side downtime this weekend, with papa home for four days straight the day after Thanksgiving.

And then on Saturday, a trip to Beeba's.  For a belated holiday meal, some crafting (I am new to sewing, and she was guiding me as I made bread bags.  yep, so new that I needed help with bread bags.  it's been since 8th grade home economics class.)

There was also some foraging for greenery and other fun wreath and garland materials, and careful deliberation over a most important thing.....

her own little tree~

She made a playground with her blocks, complete with stairs,

we roasted 3 large pumpkins and now have quarts of pumpkin puree to freeze,

and she has moved on this past week from drawing sunshines to drawing people.  Below is (according to her) me as a little girl, (I'm the orange one) with my dad.

cheers~ and happy holiday season!


*linking up with amanda at habit of being

silly bird

I found her choice of a patch of mountain mint right next to the back door quite endearing

weekending

saturday morning early rising coincided with the tailgate's holiday market,
the last hurrah for the year
we don't usually have time to linger for hours in the morning before market,
but it was nice
we walked down and wandered for a while
bumping into friends, of course
eating pastries, of course
and cookies
(and coffee)
listening to music, of course
I bought a lovely shirt for myself,
some sweet little dollies as gifts,
and more than a few pounds of bacon
(yes, pounds...... our local farmer was selling slabs of the stuff)
Mike had wanted me to pick some up, so I didn't want to let him down
me, I like it too

we strolled home and worked outside for a bit, she and I
clean up after the chickens, check
finish planting bulbs in the back yard, check
cover them with burlap to keep the chickens out, check
gather kindling, check
water the baby kale, check
harvest seeds from flowers and herbs, check
(have Claire spastically toss out lots of the seeds after I gathered them, check)

hang out and make faces at each other in the sunshine, check

baked winter squash for dinner (among other things)
she kept saying "this is so SO yummy"

she fell asleep in my arms last night
on the couch, by the fire
listening to my (usually lame) stories
I try (I think I'm getting better)
I love the new bedtime routine
even when it takes forever

there's something so magical about it
probably has something to do with the fact that I've been waiting so long for this shift
thought maybe it'd never happen

she lays there, chatty at first and then,
slowly, quieter
I watch the fluttering of her eyelids,
feel her whole being slowing down and giving in to sleep
and I feel honored, somehow

this morning we breakfasted twice
once when we rose and then again when papa came home
(we had to try out the bacon after all)

we sorted and cleaned and organized
Mike tackled a big project on our list
new works were added to the 'classroom'
art, always art, for her

I visited dear neighbors and held their 4 week old baby for a bit
and laughed inside about how I was being 'such a big help'
who doesn't want to hold a (warm, snuggly, sleeping) 4 week old baby for a bit?
as you chat with a friend and drink her tea?
now that I can do

curry for dinner
bedtime by the fire again
and tomorrow morning,
yoga for mama
hot yoga


*weekending with amanda

moving on

There are big changes happening around here.  We have now officially weaned.....  I've been ready for a long time, and in many ways of course so has she, but that night time and/or early (early) morning waking was my weak spot for so long.  So much easier to just give in and lay with her.  Nurse her back to sleep.  I always thought we'd be done by the time she turned two.  Well, she is two.  Two and (ahem) a bit.  Quite a bit.  Anyway, she is smart and saying no when she was sick at night recently was easy because I think she got it.  Food goes in, food comes out.  Water goes in, water comes out.  Milk goes in, milk comes out.  So here we are, almost a week later.  The last time she nursed was early, early in the morning last Saturday, after not having nursed for a day and a half because she'd been ill.  I'd hesitated, saying I didn't want her to get sick again, that her belly had been particularly sensitive at night.  But I let her anyway.   And then she vomited, which kind of put a damper on it for me since I was hoping for a nicer ending to the whole thing.... you know, something like: we laid there and she nursed while we talked about it being the last time and then she looked at me and lovingly said something like "mama, I love you so much".

But no.  Instead, vomit.  But I don't take it personally.

We've been talking about not having any more mama milk for a loooooong time.  Many months.  So the illness just sort of acted as the catalyst we needed.  There have of course been some tears in the wee hours when she wakes and remembers we're done with the milk and it's all I can do to gather the energy necessary to hush and dance and walk and sway with her.  To make up "pretend stories" for her or sing.  And I remind myself of how far we've come and that takes a little of the sting out of being up with an almost 3 year old at 2 or 3 or 4am dancing in the dark.  And I know that the day will come when I will miss these wee hour sessions with my girl.  Miss feeling so very needed and like I am the ultimate magical comfort.  So we work through those times and then talk about it later in the morning.  And she gets it.  "I cried a little", she'll say,  "but I'm better now".  I tell her how it's hard for mama, too.  And that when she is crying and asking me desperately for "ju-ust a li-ittle little bit mama, pleeeease" in that shaky voice, it is so hard for me to say no.  But that we are strong and we're doing it together.

On Sunday I let her pick out some balloons at the grocery store and I made her a cake to celebrate the milestone.  We called it her "goodbye milk" cake.  She wanted two candles on it.  When I asked why she told me that it was because I 'had two milks'.  Well, duh, mama.  It was carrot cake.  Carrot pie, if you ask her.  The same one we bake for her birthdays.  She sang the happy birthday song to 'milk', then a goodbye milk song that she made up that went along to the tune of happy birthday and ended with the line "it's o-okaaayyyyy mi-ilk, it's o-okay milk!"

Anyway~  this is big for us.  And here we are.  Moving on and opening new doors.  And it feels so good.  There were times that I was sure I'd be nursing this child until she left for college but, apparently, they were right.  One day, it just kind of happens.


*and now, several days later (11/17), she isn't even asking for it and she is sleeping so much better..... able to drift off to sleep in my arms as I tell a story, and fall back to sleep on her own sometimes.... makes me feel so good to know that I did not in fact ruin her ability to sleep on her own ;) 
what a big girl.

well again

I've said it before and I'll say it again.  Nothing makes me feel more like a mama than mothering my sick child.  Claire was coming off a week and a half (or so) of a funky cough and cold when towards the end of last week it changed to vomiting.  What?  Where did that come from?  For two nights she was up sick.  She is a stoic little vomiter, I'll give her that.  Seems she gets a stomach bug about once a year, so perhaps she's got a particularly sensitive little gut.  She's better now, so the days are returning to normal, which is nice.  It's always such a relief when sickness leaves the house after taking hold of it for a couple weeks~ almost as if we forget how it is when we are all well.  And then suddenly it all seems rosier than it did before because there is that great big happy sigh as things shift back over into wellness. Throw in a sunny weekend with highs in the mid 60s and overnight lows in the 30s, and it's just as fall should be.

We spent yesterday still laying low, hanging around the house and yard in pajamas and soaking up a little sunshine.  Claire ate bland and small as her belly got back to where it needed to be.  She went to bed after a few books and then stories with the lights off, with me laying next to her.  This morning we welcomed papa home and eased into the day with coffee and some breakfast-y grazing as we cleaned and organized the house together.  And worked through the backlog of laundry that comes with two nights of vomiting.  Music playing loudly, a happy child dancing around, clearly pleased to be feeling more herself again.

I baked bread and shortly after pulling the loaves out Mike declared it was time to go to a local brewery to try their new stout.  A bacon stout.  I imagine folks will either think that sounds horrific or delicious.  Perhaps also receiving mixed reviews is the choice of a brewery for a family outing.  But let me just say, these places around here are so family friendly during daytime hours and we each had a total of less than one beer.  And I am only counting the grownups, not including Claire to make the total spread out further.  Because I'm responsible like that.  But anyway, back to the bacon beer.  It is something they've made in a fairly small batch and they served it up in wine glasses for $6 a piece.  It was very smoky and very delicious.  We brought along a picnic and parked ourselves at one of the picnic tables just outside the bay door from the bar and there we sat and ate and talked for a while. A shared pumpkin ale followed, and then on the drive home we noticed two trains on the tracks, waiting to pass each other.  Mike pulled off into a little parking lot right by the tracks and we watched as the first train slowly pulled out.  We had plenty of time to explore along the tracks and place a few coins on the rails before the next one came.  Claire got waves from the engineers and after it had passed we found our pennies and Mike searched for old rusty bits of train whatnots that he hopes to turn into "art".  I only put that into quotations because it seems a stretch.  But I know it'll be cool, whatever it becomes.  I suggested he spray paint it all brightly and weld it into a pot rack.  All that stands in the way of that is learning how to weld.

Home for some raking and playing in the leaves, then a dinner mix of french toast and popcorn followed by puzzles and apples by the fire.  It is 10pm now, and my child is singing in the living room. It seems her weary and sickish days have come to an end and she just can't turn off for the night.  And papa already tried to read her off to sleep with a huge pile of books.  Off I go to try (again) to ease her into sleep.  And ignore that really it's 11pm, what with the return to standard time and all.

*linking up with amanda at the habit of being

at 'school'

We turned a corner of the office into a mini little montessori-esque classroom for little miss Claire.  Aside from the whole bit about not wanting to be away from her peeps for several hours in a row, she kinda dug her brief stint at school.  At least I think she did.  She came away with some new songs and new ideas, asking about 'works', and asking more often about sounds and letters that she heard and saw.  I'm in no rush to introduce her to the world of academics, truly.  That will all come in time.  But seeing as how she was hungry for some work to do and asking so many interesting questions, I thought, why not create a little learning space just for her?  So here's a little peek at some of what we've been up to.  She sits at her little round wooden table in the corner of the office, two low shelves nearby filled with practical life/sensorial works: pouring, stringing, beading, folding cloths, sorting buttons by color, matching assorted bottles with their lids, practicing with chunky screws and screwdriver.... a number puzzle, sandpaper numbers and little glass counting beads, books, picture dominos, lots of art choices..... and her newest favorite, sandpaper numbers along with sound object boxes.  We choose some letters and after introducing her to the sounds that they make, I present her with a little box filled with objects that start with the letter sounds matching the ones we chose.  I hold them up, name them (emphasizing the beginning sound) and she puts them where they belong.  It's like a little game.  She walks around the house sometimes pointing to things and saying something like "b, b, bowl! put it in the "b" box!"  Which of course I cannot always do, because the boxes are small.  They are small, removable drawers from a hardware organizing bin that I found at Home Depot.

She loves her "classroom".

around here

lately....

we've continued to lay low while working on getting Claire over this congestion funk,

so there's been lots of art, and I'm loving her new collaging and gluing masterpieces~

We took advantage of a mild afternoon and cuddled in the hammock while we still can without being way too cold and uncomfortable doing so~

I scored a box full of (mostly half gallon) mason jars, a basket, and a saucer for $2.50 at an estate sale

The collards and kale are loving the cooler weather~

Baby Broccoli, I'm sad to report, has fallen ill as well.... though she is on the mend and feels much better when being rocked by bunny in the little rocking chair~

To welcome Mike back from his travels north, I made a nice big dinner on Sunday night, complete with a cherry pie.  With (our last bag of frozen) tart cherries from Mike's mom's cherry tree.  Mmm mmm good.  Now, I am not the pie maker around here usually, so that is notable.  Actually, I suppose I am the pie maker, but not the crust-maker.  Mike always, always makes our crusts.  For pies, quiches, pot-pies, whatever.  He is very good at it.  I bake most everything else, but he preps the crusts.  This generalization goes so far that I've even had him make crusts ahead for me when he'll be gone the next day and I have plans for some crusty something-or-other.  But I'm a good wife, and certainly capable of turning out a decent crust (oh, and I really like pie) so I made the whole thing all by myself.

Well.... with a little 'help'.  Mostly, she snatched cherries out of the bowl and grabbed and ate small globs of dough as I tried to roll out the crust.  I was not pleased.  I accept that there will be some toddler antics whilst helping mama make pie.  I welcome them.  I welcomed them for a while, as we picked out more cherries than we should have and gobbled them up, but putting holes in a nearly all-rolled-out crust to eat the raw dough?  As the dough pile dwindles because of numerous previous (duplicate) offenses?  Gotta draw the line somewhere.  I said no.  A bit loudly.  Even used her lovely middle name.  (it's Annelise, by the way)  She stormed off then came back to help clean up and started wiping the whole kitchen with a washcloth.  And then she ran off again and took a 10 minute nap.  An unprecedented move on her part.  The going to sleep all by herself part and all.  I think things are gonna start changing around here soon in the sleep department.  I can feel it.  It's looking up.

So, dinner was great.  The pie was delicious.  Even the crust.  It was very good, truly.  And this, above, is what Mike brought home from jersey.  A TON of beautiful produce from a friend's farm.  Beets, turnips, salad greens, spinach, carrots, squash, cranberries (!), onions, fennel....... oh my.  I am a happy girl.

Today, another masterpiece was started.  I gave her creative license with this large canvas (which was actually kind of difficult... I sat there, watching her and having to work really, really hard to not make suggestions or keep her from covering over things and mixing it all together.... let go mama, let go) and hope she'll add layers to it with different media.  And then we'll have this large and lovely artwork to hang above the couch.