preparing for the week

I think this may be the longest I've ever gone between blog posts. It has something to do with being in a perpetual state of jet lag. Without the jet. Between a very demanding project that has turned my 12-hour work/commute days into 14-15 hour work/commute days, a boy who has been waking up in the middle of the night, multiple daily lunch preparations before leaving the house at 7, 6 or even 5 a.m. and the effort needed to tend to my family and maintain some semblance of friendship with the people I love, there has been very little time to write. Or think a coherent thought, which would allow me something to write about.

A couple of weekends ago in the kitchen, I had some thoughts as I listened to a great interview with one of world's leading geophysicists and spiritual thinkers on the meaning of humanity from NPR's On Being. Maybe I'm just starved for meaningful thought, but I was so moved by what he said, I stopped the podcast a couple of times to take notes. I was going to write about this, but I'm pretty sure the notes have been swept off the counter into the garbage.

I had also considered writing about music at one point and the strange emotional power it has over me, but then I figured that may have more to do with sleep deprivation. And if there is something meaningful there to write about, I am still at a loss to find it. Nonetheless, I invite you to listen to one of the very wonderful songs that makes me cry regularly.

I have also had an idea for a post about my ridiculous obsession with my smart phone, but I'm not sure I'm ready to be that transparent. So instead, I'll stick with my favorite topic (after Liam and Elliott) and write about food.

This weekend, between working and playing, I spent time in the kitchen preparing for the week ahead. In addition to clearing piles of accumulated papers (which have grown exponentially with the start of the school year), I cut up loads of vegetables and fruits and put them in containers so they would be easy to grab from lunches and snacks. Not rocket science, but it sure feels like a great and satisfying accomplishment.

I also made a big batch of bolognese sauce that we ate over spaghetti on Saturday night and over baked potatoes tonight. (This is a favorite recipe and one of the few meat dishes I make, using all local grass-fed beef and no pork.) Then, with some of the veggie scraps, I made homemade vegetable broth so I can easily pull together a minestrone or our delicious carrot soup for dinner later in the week.

Although I felt like a truck rode over me this morning (and not for any good reason other than the aforementioned jet-less jet lag), I managed to make my children some very healthy breakfast cookies. They went kind of nuts for them. I thought they were on the dry and tasteless side. Shows how depriving kids of sugar can make them overly excited for anything that bears the name "cookie." I will spare you that recipe. The broth, however, is a worthy addition, particularly with soup season upon us. If it inspires any great soup recipes from your kitchen, please share. I need more to write about.

Simple Homemade Veggie Broth

Celery (what's left after cutting up sticks)
Carrots (1-2 washed and roughly chopped)
Onion (1 large chopped plus the skin)
Other veggies (e.g., golden beet, washed and chopped; swiss chard stalks; just nothing gas-producing like broccoli, cauliflower or cabbage)
1 t salt
1 t thyme
1 t Italian seasoning or marjoram
10 cups water

Bring to a boil and simmer on low boil 30 minutes. Cool and strain into a glass quart jar.

what we've been doing

:: nurturing a budding artist
:: practicing handstands in the pool and racing a very happy son down the water slides (instead of enjoying the reading materials I planned to sit with out of the pool)
:: reading Liam the books I used to love (Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing)
:: thinking I should write books like the ones I used to love (Tales of the Incredible Mr. E)
:: saying goodbye to a very special family
:: making a salvaged sweater blanket for that very special family
:: trying to catch tadpoles at the Arboretum
:: hating cancer
:: praying for a dear friend with cancer and a dear friend's mother with cancer
:: loving the open windows
:: riding a bigger bike to the pool, around and around the block and down the mulch pile (oh, yes, wipe out!)
:: longing to hold my brand new nephew again
:: wishing I had more work
:: feeling secretly happy I don't have more work
:: dreading Elliott's 48-hour EEG
:: finding joy in the rainy days
:: ignoring the giant mulch pile, the packed garage, the ridiculous weedfest in the front yard, the boxes of papers to be sorted and shredded
:: staying up too late some nights
:: falling asleep with the kids the other nights
:: walking around the river in the morning
:: eating local
:: roasting marshmallows
:: relishing summer

beautiful things I've seen online

:: This heart-breaking story that's a tragic piece of history eloquently linked with a mother's love for her "special" son. To think that in another place and time, my own son would be considered expendable and wiped out. I was moved to tears when I read this tender story, which isn't really surprising, I guess. It hits very close to home.

:: This sweet little video of a now-popular Etsy artist and how she brought her dream to life. In addition to loving her approach to the craft, I am enamored by her accent (what a surprise!) and her chickens. Yes, I want chickens.

:: This incredible "proverbial" quilt that a blogger I like just whipped up. The letters are awesome and the fact that they spell out lyrics of a song by my favorite band, well, I'm speechless. I'd like to think I could copy the idea but I should probably start with a potholder.

:: This wonderful lesson in perspective that a very popular blogging neighbor sprung on her kids the day before Christmas. All that's needed is a pocketful of dollar bills, a pack of post-its and a giving spirit. Thanks for the example, Kasey.

:: This life-giving project from Craft Hope that enables people like me and you to make a difference in the lives of new moms in Haiti. Did you know that only one in 10,000 people has access to a doctor in Haiti? This project provides safe birthing kits and would be an awesome thing to do with a small group of like-minded friends, crafty or not.

What beautiful things have you seen online lately?

like I need another distraction

I have succumbed to Twitter. Oh, yes, you can follow me. New jobs are requiring that I tweet for other people, so I figured it was about time I tweet for myself. But adding one more thing like this. . . I may have to give up house cleaning altogether. Any suggestions of people/things I should follow? And please don't say common squirrel. More than 17,000 followers. Weird.

postscript

When I wrote yesterday's post I was thinking about Elliott and a way to illustrate the strange reality of never wanting to have a child who has special needs and being so grateful for exactly the child that I have. But after rereading it I realize that people could get the wrong impression of my playgroup and the women in it. Soon after having Liam I got swooped up into a group of neighborhood moms who all had babies around the same age. At first it was just nice to have peers to celebrate and commiserate with as we got our feet wet in motherhood. But this has not been just any group of women. The playgroup quickly spawned a book club, a regular girls' night out and many very dear friends. Nearly every day these women offer me support, advice and comic relief. We have shared great joys and unthinkable losses. And we talk about far, far more than doing laundry and wiping bottoms. It is a rare and precious thing to have this kind of friendship right where one lives and I want to be sure to say that I am incredibly grateful for this gift.

Also, on a completely different note, if anyone made the shredded wheat bars I posted recently, I forgot to include the egg in the recipe. Oops. (The error is now corrected in the original post.) So sorry to those of you who ended up with shredded wheat granola instead of bars!

really good stuff

From Haiti to granola bars, this post is a real hodge podge, but here it goes. . .

:: One of the most captivating, heart-wrenching and challenging things I've read about Haiti post earthquake is this Salon article by Ph.D. candidate Laura Wagner who was trapped in the rubble in Port-au-Prince. I had heard her tell some of her story on NPR, and found this article thanks to the Livesay's blog, which is worth following if you want the real, human picture of what life is like in Haiti now. They shine light on the heartache and injustices as well as the hope and beauty. I think everyone should follow this blog because it's too easy to forget.

:: My artist/graphic designer friend Liita has taken a giant step toward making one of her big life's dreams come true. She opened The Little Bits Workshop - a brick and mortar creativity center where people of all ages and abilities can come and create arts and crafts with recycled and repurposed materials. Because this dream comes from a place of passion and joy, I think her workshop is going to be wildly successful. I can't wait to go check it out!

:: A while back, I posted a granola bar recipe we had concocted. Since then, I've found a new (to me) recipe that's easier and even better. This chewy granola bar recipe has no gluten and no eggs (Liz!) and can be adapted a hundred different ways. Its base is simply 3 cups of quick oats, 1 can of sweetened condensed milk and 2 tablespoons of melted butter. You add in 3 cups of good stuff you like. And that's that. Our last batch we mixed in coconut, sunflower seeds, finely chopped walnuts (so Liam wouldn't suspect a nut addition), flax seed meal, raisins and chocolate chips. Bake at 350 for 20 minutes. Or get the more detailed recipe here. These bars are chewy, with just the right dose of sweetness. Beats store bought in every way.

:: Everywhere I look these days, people are making the cutest things and posting them online. It is impossible to keep up. I bookmark. I create my imaginary queue. I dream about creating things I probably never will. Many things are lovely. Some are cute and practical. Some make me gasp. But it's the sentimental, heirloom-type projects that really get me, like this Four Generations Baby Quilt and this Dress Shirt Quilt. One dream that I am not giving up is to make my boys unique quilts some day. I love the idea of incorporating not only baby clothes of theirs, but fabric from wardrobe items of their grandpas and dad. Such a treasure.

The artwork in the photograph was painted by Liam through a PTO program I participate in called Art Volunteers in the Classroom (AVIC). On this particular day, Liam's class learned about Monet and a painting technique he used to create most of his masterpieces. I was stunned by Liam's interpretation. It hangs in our dining room and it remains one of my favorite examples of really good stuff.

liam on the 4 am earthquake

This morning after learning that waking to the feeling of our house lifting off the ground and slamming back to earth was caused by a 3.8 earthquake:

Me: Liam, do you remember waking up last night?

Liam: Oh, yeah. I think it was my blanket. It made a really loud noise when it fell off my bed.

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.

news flash

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you this special report:

British guitarist Andrew Bordoni will cut his hair short if 100 people buy his new album by December 20. As wife of said guitarist, I am kind of excited by this possibility. It's time for something new around here. Plus, if it happens, at least 100 people will discover this amazing guitar-oriented instrumental rock album. It is sooo good. Hear a little for yourself. (Tracks 1 through 4 are on the new album):




Then, check out the website to order the album and be part of the transformation! (The ponytail will be donated to Locks of Love and 10% of the album sales will go to St. Jude's Children's Research Hospital.)

good intentions

So much to make. So little time. But it makes me happy just to think about all the lovely, lovable and hilarious (oh yes, one of these will be very funny) results . . . if I can pull it off. If not, there's always next year. (And 11 months to get working - as if that would ever happen!)

Cookies, however, will be made. Lots of cookies. Stay tuned.

a small world afterall

I've been meaning to write about a wonderful coincidence that happened several weeks ago when school began, but I keep getting sidetracked. Let me just begin by saying that it really is a small, small world. Here's the story.

At kindergarten orientation this summer I signed up to help with Art Volunteers in the Classroom, which is an exciting elementary school program in our district that enables parents with a background or interest in art to go into the classroom to teach. Very cool. Anyway, at the start of the school year I went to a meeting at the coordinator's house. It was a cute farmhouse-like home just a few blocks from mine and although I had never seen it before or met the woman hosting the meeting, I had an odd sense of familiarity. It was strange, but I had the feeling that I had seen the inside of this house before.

After dropping our kids off for kindergarten that afternoon, I chatted with the woman in whose home I had been. I discovered that she was an artist and then asked her if she liked to visit blogs. After a few moments, we realized that not only did we visit many of the same blogs, we had visited each other's blogs! In fact, I often visited her blog and, in pictures, had seen glimpses of the inside of her house. But I had no idea that she - Emily - lived anywhere near me. (I do, however, remember my friend Ann telling me about Emily's blog and saying that she thought Emily might live in my town. I just figured, what are the chances of that? And how would I even find her if she did?)

Most of what I knew about Emily was that she was an excellent knitter and that she dyed yarn (gorgeous yarn) and sold it in her Etsy shop. But a few days later, upon further investigation of her blog, I discovered that she also sews art quilts, incredible ones. As I perused Emily's art quilt website, I began to get that familiar feeling again. I knew I had seen these quilts before, and I had! Emily was one of the featured quilters on a PBS special I had watched on DVD called The Art of Quilting. How crazy is that?

I, wannabe quilter and aspiring excellent knitter, get to loiter on the school grounds waiting for the dismissal bell with this gem of a woman who is every bit as down to earth as she is talented. Every day I look forward to seeing her and talking to her. I guess you could say I had a blog crush that completely unexpectedly is becoming a real life friendship. Lucky me.

i think you should read this

It's a radical, convicting, beautiful statement of faith. It's in Esquire magazine. I think you should read it. That's all I'm going to say.

thank you, martha

In a recent Wisecraft blog post, I read about this free photo conversion process on Martha Stewart's website. It is so easy and so cool. You just upload a photo and in seconds the site generates a pdf with this simplified image that looks like an Impressionist painting. Martha, of course, turns the process into a craft with glitter and such, but I just like the images as they are.

[If you are not sure how to get the image onto your desktop once the website converts it, here's what I did: At the bottom of the pdf, click the little icon that says "open in Preview." From Preview save the pdf to your desktop. Open the pdf in a program like Graphic Converter or Photoshop and crop out everything but the photo. Save as a jpg and voila!]

starting september

The weather turns cool and I'm making applesauce. My neighbor has been gifting me all of her delicious, albeit wormy, apples and I have been churning out the sauce. Nothing like it. I swear it is best - the only applesauce my boys will eat.

Cutting out the wormy bits takes a while, as does mashing the cooked apples through the sieve. So, at night especially, I've been using the time to listen to podcasts of This American Life. One that has stuck with me all week is Break-Up. Act Two of this program replays an interview from 1987 with an eight-year-old girl who is trying to understand why her parents are getting divorced. She wrote a letter to then New York Mayor Ed Koch as well as to a children's author who wrote a book about divorce, but she doesn't get any answers that help. I was so touched by this piece. Her sadness, her confusion, her bluntness.

Maybe it's partly the inherent nostalgia of the season - buying school supplies, pulling out the sweaters and the blankets, making my grandma's applesauce - but there is something in that little girl's voice that yanked me back. Yet, rather than make me feel sad, the piece made me feel strangely grateful. See, at the end of the interview, NPR's Noah Adams rather awkwardly tells the girl that the good news is she'll be okay in the end. And, as dumb as it sounds to say to an eight year old, on a cool, beautiful, sunny first of September, making applesauce in my kitchen while my three guys play in the backyard, this 41 year old knows that he's right.

25 things

This feels slightly vain to me, but I gave in and wrote this list on Facebook after several friends had "tagged" me. For all the work it took to come up with 25 random things about myself, I figured I may as well post it here, too.

1. I make a lot of lists and a lot of piles. Neither seem to improve my organizational deficiency.

2. I do not save phone numbers in my phone. I save them in my head.

3. I met my husband via email (at the prompting of a very dear friend). We fell in love and both knew we were meant to be together weeks before we ever met in person. We were right.

4. I have never had a cavity.

5. As a child, when I lived with my mom, I camped out at motocross tracks on Sundays, skied competitively, ate raw cookie dough, watched soaps after school and made my own dinner most nights. When I lived with my dad, I went to church Sundays, did chores, rarely ate between meals or watched TV and sat down for a family dinner nearly every night. As a result, I had a fairly confusing childhood, but I adapt to new situations very easily.

6. I wish I had been born on a farm.

7. I have three fractured vertebrae in my back. Two were fractured when I jumped off a 50-foot bridge into a river (following after 10 guys) at age 20, and the third was fractured in a fall down my basement stairs at age 40. I downplayed the first injury so much (although the pain was excruciating) that I never even knew about the fractures until my back was x-rayed in the emergency room after the basement stair fall. Oh, to be 20 and crazy again!

8. My mom sent me to finishing school when I was a freshman in high school. I do not remember a single thing.

9. I have a tattoo.

10. Until I found my home with Andrew, the only places I have ever felt totally at home - Palmer Lake, CO, Speculator, NY, Nairobi, Kenya, and Paris, France - are nowhere near the places I have lived.

11. I loved everything about giving birth (especially the beautiful boys I got to bring home). I would do it at least two more times if I had started younger.

12. I have a tendency to overreact and sigh a lot, which may be why one of Andrew's nicknames for me is "Mrs. Drama."

13. I jumped out of an airplane once. I don't plan to do it again.

14. I have never met a single one of my in-laws.

15. I wish I were more glamorous, but I can barely find time for basic hygiene.

16. I have a very high pain threshold. See #7, #9 and #11.

17. I almost never finish a book and have 5 to 10 partially read books next to my bed at any given time.

18. I loathe talking on the phone. (But chances are I know your phone number by heart - see #2.)

19. I rarely envy someone's stuff; I envy the absence of stuff. But getting rid of the little things that clutter my home is tough for me. I am too sentimental.

20. The unconditional, adoring love of my grandparents and time spent with them was the absolute best thing about my childhood.

21. If I had unlimited free time, I would take piano lessons (and practice), make all of my own clothes, write poetry and practice yoga on a very regular basis, plant a huge garden and cook a delicious meal for a different person or family every night.

22. I think a lot about homeschooling my kids. I never thought I would think about this.

23. I love what I do to earn money, but most of the time I don't like doing it.

24. Although I had a strong faith and was very active in church in high school and college, I wanted nothing to do with church for many years after I graduated. My incredibly loving, once-atheist, unchurched husband and a wonderful body of Methodists brought me back.

25. The greatest gift I have on earth is my family. There is nothing I enjoy more than being with them.