while I was away at a women's retreat

Elliott learned to use the camera. Dad was home with the boys. Enough said.

bread and chocolate

The year I lived in Paris, my favorite lunch, which I ate nearly every day, consisted of a warm baguette and a bar of belgian chocolate eaten together like a sandwich. I used to get misty-eyed just thinking about how delicious that combo tasted. Not anymore.

Last summer I bought the book Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day after I had checked it out from the library three consecutive times and never once opened it. I had read all the raves on various blogs and thought I would be excited to try it. By the time I bought the book and thumbed through it, I thought it looked kind of daunting. I was happy making my weekly oatmeal bread, and I never got around to trying anything artisan. A couple weeks ago when I started cleaning out my kitchen, I came across the book and decided to give it a second chance. Daunting? Hardly. I cannot believe I let all those months pass with these amazing breads right within reach.

Here is the secret: We eat fresh, hot, crusty European bread every night and it takes practically no effort at all. Even if you have never made bread in your life, you can make this. It's easier than mixing a batch of cookies and every batch of bread dough makes about four loaves. There's no kneading, no temperature taking, no yeast proofing. You mix the ingredients and then keep the dough in your fridge until you're ready to grab a hunk and bake it. The secret, I think, is in the pizza stone and the pan of water in the super hot oven. A process I had memorized by loaf two.

I have always been a slow adopter. I don't know exactly why. I still use the kind of corkscrew you take camping, I write addresses down on paper and post-it notes, and I have never had anything but a pay-as-you-go phone. I don't like fads. I like to do things the hard way. Perhaps this relates to the poor-me syndrome I fell victim to as a child. Perhaps I need therapy. In any case, if you are like this in any way - skeptical, stoic, too cool to be cool - do not miss this boat. You will be utterly amazed that you can bake this well. You will consider opening a French bakery. You will be making bread and chocolate sandwiches. Your entire household will thank you.

good will hunting and sunday pie

Yesterday afternoon my friend Heather and I spend nearly three hours scouring Good Will for good stuff. I picked up this pile of yummy sweaters, not because I plan to wear them but because I plan to transform them into something like this. I also scored a pair of long J Crew jeans in my size (a huge find for a tall girl) and a couple great sweaters (to wear). I am not a shopper. It usually makes me tired and sick feeling, unless I'm at Good Will. There, I feel right at home. It's really cheap, inspiring and adventure filled. Plus, it's better for everyone and everything to buy things used.

Getting away for three hours on a Sunday afternoon was a treat, and needed after a long morning home with my boys. Elliott had a bad cough and we didn't want to take him to church. Since Andrew was playing guitar in the service, I had to stay. I hate missing church. But rather than be all grumpy about it, I decided to be nice mom and let the guys do pretty much whatever they wanted, including building a massive fort in the dining room and painting. I also let Liam make one of his famous "cakes." Usually these are completely inedible, but somehow the planets aligned and the concoction I pulled from the oven actually looked and smelled quite tasty.

I quizzed Liam on exactly what he mixed into it. (He is supposed to ask me before he uses each ingredient, but you never know.) Upon assuring me that there were no "secret" ingredients, he popped up on a stool and divided his dish onto three plates and insisted that I try his "Sunday Pie." I will not lie. It was delicious and the entire thing was gone in less than 20 seconds.

If anyone wants the Sunday Pie recipe, Liam says to mix up some graham crackers, marshmallows, chocolate chips, chocolate sauce, peppermint chips, sprinkles and melted butter, then cook it in the oven. If you think that sounds like a minty s'more, you'd be right. Liam told me that if I keep being nice mom he'll make me Sunday Pie every week. I just might.

if I were a nurse...

...and had the right qualifications, I would do this. See if you know anyone who is and does and can.

chai

I love tea. So much so that I stopped drinking coffee entirely about two months ago. Partly because the caffeine was bothering me and partly because I just started preferring tea more (and, no, I'm not pregnant, and no, I'm not crazy). Like a good Brit's wife, I prefer milk in my tea, and I especially like chai, but not too sweet.

Thanks to another Amy, I have discovered the most ingenious and delicious way to make chai tea at home - with chai tea concentrate, which is simply a concoction of sweetened condensed milk and indian spices that most of us have in our cabinet. Here's how easy it is: You brew a cup of tea, add a spoonful or two of the concentrate (which you keep in the fridge), and stir. I could drink it all day. In fact, I do.

The recipe for the concentrate can be found here. I left out the sugar. It's really sweet enough without it.

p.s. Try these cookies with your chai. They are incredible.

more ways to help

Ever since I saw the call for handmade donations to the Craft Hope Etsy Shop, I have been longing to make something. Today I did. This purse will soon be for sale in this amazing shop where 100% of the proceeds are being donated to Doctors Without Borders for their lifesaving medical work in Haiti. The first two days "in business," this little grassroots Etsy shop brought in $10,000 for Haiti. Stunning. I am honored to be able to be a small part of such a giving and creative community. If you are looking for a wonderful gift, please go check it out. (The deadline for donating handmade items is end of day Wednesday. Look here for more information on that.)

Another idea for providing immediate help to Haiti is to assemble care kits. Our church has been collecting items for these kits, but today I found some great information on how to assemble and send these kits as a group, family, whatever. Designed for individual personal hygiene, the kits are collected and distributed by Heart to Heart International. The instructions on exactly how to assemble and mail the kits can be found here. Putting these kits together feels like "doing something" and would be a great way to get kids involved in helping the people of Haiti.

Recently, my dad sent me to this oped piece by David Brooks about the underlying tragedy of the earthquake in Haiti. Did you know that when an earthquake of the same magnitude hit San Francisco, only 63 people died? As we all know, the underlying tragedy here is poverty. And despite decades of relief and humanitarian work in this country, as Brooks points out, the problem is chronic and seemingly insurmountable.

One small mention that stood out to me in this editorial was where Brooks was comparing Haiti's dire situation to the DR's considerably better position. Here he states: "Haiti and the Dominican Republic share the same island and the same basic environment, yet the border between the two societies offers one of the starkest contrasts on earth — with trees and progress on one side, and deforestation and poverty and early death on the other."

"Trees and progress" is the part that got me. A few days ago my aunt Debbie sent me a link to Plant with Purpose, an organization focused on planting trees in an effort to eradicate poverty. Sound odd? Watch this video and see. As part of a long-term solution, planting trees seems absolutely essential to me.

There are other organizations, too, like HOPE International and Compassion International, that can help stamp out poverty in the long run. HOPE empowers whole communities to rise up out of poverty through microloans. Compassion empowers children to rise up out of poverty through education. Both organizations help people recognize their worth by sharing God's love and mercy. This is something I can get behind.

When it comes to Haiti, I am humbled and awed by the incredible outpouring of love and assistance that the world has stepped up to provide. But I also know that in a few weeks or months, the fervor will die down and the support will drop off. But our prayers cannot stop. Prayers for wisdom for leaders of organizations that will be key in helping to rebuild Haiti. Prayers for strength for workers in the field who have a gargantuan task ahead of them. Prayers for hope for the Haitian people who deserve so much better.

Decades from now, may we be able to say “M pa bliye ou” (I didn't forget you) to the people of Haiti. There are so many ways to help. I pray we all continue to find them.

favorite things :: the marble run

Whenever we go to visit my grandma Gaye, my boys make a beeline for the marble run. Who can blame them? The marbles are smooth and beautiful, the track an absolute feat of engineering genius (on the simplest scale), and the sound of marbles falling into a tin box...the joy cannot be explained.

Some of my best childhood memories include this exact marble run as well as these marbles and the tin box they're stored in. There's no electricity, no batteries and no plastic. Just pure fun. We ran marbles for one hour nonstop today. Elliott cried when we finally put the marbles away.

Cousins and siblings, listen to this video and remember those magical days where all it took was a wooden track, a handful of marbles and a dented tin box to make us happy.

kind of lame when a sewing machine is in the house

Last night when I was tucking Liam into bed his tooth came out. This is the second baby tooth he's lost and the second time we could think of nothing better to do than to put it in a baggie under his pillow. As soon as he fell asleep, I snuck into my horribly messy office/studio (content for another post someday) to unearth a bit of material to sew into a tooth fairy pillow. I had envisioned making one from a scrap of old quilt that once belonged to my great grandmother, all vintage-y and sentimental. But I decided this flannel monkey scrap would be a better fit for a five-year-old boy. After all, he kind of looks like a monkey and he has PJ pants to match. Plus, the pocket holds magic, in the form of money. Lots to like.

By the way, it's probably pretty obvious that we save money around here by inflicting haircuts at home. This was a bangs-in-the-eyes, before-school rush job. Frozen in a photo it is quite clear to me that it needs to be fixed - soon - because I can hear the future ridicule already: "You let me walk around like that? Really?" Poor kid.

more on haiti

Last night we learned that the ministry our church actively supports in Port-au-Prince, Grace Children's Hospital, is still standing after the devastating earthquake. It is a miracle really, and an incredible gift of hope amidst so much sadness.

Early this morning I stubbled onto The Livesay Haiti Weblog, which is from an American family who has been living and ministering in Haiti for the last four years. Amazingly they wrote the "news report" that I referred to in yesterday's post (which I didn't know at the time). And this is the same blog that my friend Carmen noted when she commented on yesterday's post later this morning. I just love coincidences like this. They tell me that this is an important site to share. If you want to get an in-the-trenches, first-hand report of what's happening in Haiti and how we as a far-away people can help and pray, it is worth reading. I knew I would following this family as soon as I read the quote in their masthead.

Better to love God and die unknown than to love the world and die a hero; better to be content with poverty than to die a slave to wealth; better to have taken some risks and lost than to have done nothing and succeeded at it. –E. Lutzer

Amen.

thinking about haiti

Beautiful, healthy children. Good food to eat. Medical care when we need it. Clean water in abundance. Today I am hit with gratitude and wonder at all of the simple gifts we enjoy and so often take for granted. I am also filled with deep sadness for the people in a country so plagued by the kind of poverty I can hardly comprehend who are now faced with a massive disaster.

Before Tuesday, Haiti had many orphans. Now they will have so many more. Since Andrew's trip to Lithuania last summer and the death of my cousin's husband, a young dad, my heart has ached for children who have lost parents. There is the desire to "do something" mixed with the feeling that no real significance could be made by me. And so it goes with Haiti. The country is so far away, the devastation so great, the losses so huge. What can I possibly do?

And yet, if my children were in urgent need, I would move heaven and earth to help them. I long to do the same for these children - these sons and daughters - in Haiti. My husband showed me just hours after news of the quake hit that there is something we can do. He took the money out of his Paypal account (which really wasn't "much"), put it into our bank account, and donated it to World Vision.

It's true: We can forego the music purchases, skip the dinner out, wait on the new carpet, knit with the yarn we already have, and dig into our pockets a little deeper. Because there is just no tiptoeing around the fact that Haiti needs our money more right now.

If you are looking for places to give where your money will be put to use well - and quickly - these are the places we are giving:

:: World Vision - This Christian humanitarian agency has been in Haiti for 30 years and is well mobilized to make an impact with relief immediately.

:: Giving Children Hope - Four-star rated on Charity Navigator, this organization is on the ground in Haiti helping with relief and caring for children. I was so moved by the news report from Mission Viejo Christian Church on this page.

There are other good ones, too, like World Relief and Hope International. (If you know of others, feel free to share them here.)

Whether you are in a position to give monetarily or not, we can all pray, pray, pray, (specifically, we are praying for Grace Children's Hospital in Port-au-Prince, which is a major part of missions at our church and who we have not heard news about yet). And we can all give by living more thoughtfully. Not to get up on a soapbox here, but I know that I can be more generous with my resources, more grateful for my resources, and more careful about how I use my resources. It doesn't have to take a disaster to wake people up to the dire needs of others and the responsibility we have to help. But sometimes it does.

a little gift for a big giver

The coffee cozy (free tutorial at House on Hill Road) has been my go-to gift lately. It's quick to make, plus it's cute, practical, and environmentally friendly. And who doesn't love a grande latte every once in a while?

This particular cozy is going in a care package to my dear friend Lauren who donated her kidney to a co-worker yesterday. Lauren didn't think it was a big deal. But that's kind of how she is. If someone needs something you have, you just give it to them. Now that's the way to live. Someone get that girl a cup of coffee.

writing to Aron

Since college I have sponsored kids in other countries through Compassion International. And, although I have seen three of these kids through to secondary school graduation, I don't feel like I have much to brag about. Yes, the bit of money came out of my bank account every month all these years, but - here's the confession - I was never a good letter writer. I thought of the kids whenever I saw their pictures on the fridge, but as for putting a hello on paper, I definitely fell short.

Recently, a girl I sponsored for many years in Peru graduated from high school and aged out of the sponsorship program. I was faced with the option of putting my monthly donation elsewhere or sponsoring a new child. After thinking for a bit, I decided to see if there was a boy Liam's age that we could help. Compassion quickly located a boy in Tanzania his exact age. Aron Daud Magese is now our guy.

Already we are doing things differently. We pray for Aron every night, are reading about his country and way of life, and are writing him letters.

Yesterday Liam traced and colored his hands to send to Aron along with his school picture. Then he dictated a letter to me. Here is verbatim (seriously) how Liam began his letter:

Dear Aron,
Sometimes my mom and dad talk rough to me. I am buying a dog. Do you have a lot of LEGOs?

Maybe I am naive, but as obvious as it seems in writing, I don't think Liam was trying to send his mother a message - i.e., that she needs to work on her tone, that her son wants a dog, that possibly we still don't have enough LEGOs. I just think that kid writes what's on his mind. Possibly this is why I was not such a good letter writer. Way too much editing.

And, still, we edited the letter to Aron. After all, this was a letter of introduction. Maybe a few years from now, when they are regular pen pals writing their own letters they can discuss the way their parents talk to them. Hopefully they'll have much more interesting things to share than that.

the kind of thing that makes me cry

There's nothing that means more to me than a handmade gift. For my last birthday, my neighbor Heather sewed this beautiful, one-of-a-kind scarf for me. My friend Sabine knit me a cute, stylish slouchy hat. My neighbor Nancy made me a scrapbook (totally amazing). And my friend Ann, stitched this fabulous table runner that makes me smile every time I walk into the dining room. A gift of any kind, at any time is appreciated, but something that took someone time and effort and creative energy is special indeed.

This is why when people hand make gifts for strangers, I get really choked up. Which is exactly what happened when I read about the Red Scarf program on Craft Hope last night. In a nutshell, the Orphan Foundation collects hand knit or crocheted scarves - all in red - to send to teens who have aged out of foster care and are starting college or a trade school. It is a simple, caring gesture that says, someone you don't even know is rooting for you.

One quote I read said this: "I received my red scarf and cannot describe how I felt that entire day wearing it. It made me smile because although no one knew it was handmade for me, I knew that it was and that made it special." I am a sap. But, really, this is the kind of thing that should make anyone tear up. At least a little.

The great thing about this project is that even a beginning knitter can participate. Craft Hope is collecting red scarves for this project until Valentine's Day. And they can be sent with a note of encouragement, and even a gift card if you like. What an amazing way to tell someone who's had a tough time that they matter and make the world a tiny bit better.

I was planning to cast on for my first sweater soon, but first I think I'll be knitting in red for a while instead. Check out the Craft Hope page to learn more, and if you knit, get some red yarn and join me!

we're doomed

Meet Liam's (future/wished-for) dog Gus. A few weeks ago we never heard a peep about a pet, then suddenly the boy is obsessed. Tuesday morning the dog frenzy reached fever pitch when Liam and I went to walk my friend Sabine's husky Buddy. Liam was giggling and skipping, and it was 10 degrees out. He was nearly as disappointed as Buddy when the walk was over, and concerned that we hadn't needed the poop bag. I couldn't wait to thaw out my fingers and toes on the drive home.

After school on Tuesday we went to the library and pulled from the stacks nearly every book on dogs. For 30 minutes Liam skimmed through the books and picked a pile to bring home. It was the first library visit in months that he didn't even look for a Star Wars book.

The moment when I knew we were in real trouble, though, was when we were walking home from the library and Liam told me he didn't think he wanted to use his long-saved $73 on a LEGO set anymore.

"I think I have enough LEGOs," he said. The he flashed a crazy-big grin and punched the air, "I'm going to use that money to buy a dog instead."

one small change

Recently I came across this post from a mindful mama, challenging others in the blogging world to make one small change a month over the next five months that could contribute to creating a greener world. I like to think of it as more conscious stewardship. And, in this year of "simplify," a conscious step toward more simple living. Needless to say, I have decided to participate.

Last night I mentioned the challenge to Andrew and he suggested I staunch the flow of paper into our house. Cancel the Sunday paper. Call stores to stop the catalogs. Figure out how to get off junk mailing lists.

I was hoping for something easier, like compost more regularly or only use cloth napkins (which we pretty much do already). But my husband is right. Paper is our biggest challenge. It clutters our counters, demands our attention, makes us long for things we don't need and can't afford, and creates way too much unnecessary waste.

We are just one little family, but if we can cut out a couple bins of paper waste every year, that would be a very big small change - for the world and for our sanity. We're going for it.

simplify

My intention for 2009 was breathe. This year I didn't even have to think twice. It's simplify. And it's long overdue. I am planning to attack one room/area per month, and I do mean attack. These little "love letters" will give you a peek at the extent of chaos we are dealing with here. I am jittery with excitement to get this started. Let's hope that feeling lasts beyond Wednesday because this job is going to take some serious effort. It won't hurt if it's a least a little bit fun.

Dear Kitchen,
You spew papers, shoes, bills, crayons, dirty dishes, LEGOs and bags, endless bags. Let's clean up your act and get back to cooking.

Dear Office,
I plan to see your floor again. Really, I do.

Dear Bank Account,
You need a budget. End of story.

Dear Closet Under the Stairs,
I am going to find out what's in you and probably neither of us is going to like it much.

Dear CD Collection,
Get ready to be sold, donated or tossed. I know I used to love you, but now you're just weighing me down.

Dear Inbox,
Oh, yes, 8,280 emails is at least 8,270 too many.

Dear Giant Pile of Books Next to My Bed,
I admit it. I can't read you all. I just can't. Most of you will have to go back on the shelf.

Dear Ugly, Scary, Dirty Part of the Basement,
I am embarrassed of what you've become. I don't even know if I can help you. But I think I'm finally willing to try.

Dear Yarn, Paper and Fabric,
I can't wait to get my hands on you. Once I find you.

Dear Quiet Time with No Cluttered, Complicated Distractions,
Do you remember me? I can't wait to see you again.

Dear Family,
Less nagging. More smiling. How's that for simple?

Dear Readers,
So now you know. We've got some work to do. Thanks for hanging around. I can't wait to share the progress.

What big (or little) intentions do you have for the new year?