2022 Winter Olympics, Here I come!

Last weekend, we had a family ski outing, and Zazzy was the most excited. At 2 1/2 he is by far the youngest child we have put on skis. He insisted on wearing his goggles all the way up in the car (as well as most of the previous evening.) But he loved it, (until he fell completely apart from weariness) and by the end of the lesson was gliding several yards independently down to the catching parent. Knowing his personality, I’m pretty sure that he’ll be the kid we’ll be chasing madly down the mountain in a couple years. 

Just before hitting the bunny slope.

 

Still wearing the smile, on the slope, before the melt-down.  At the end of the lesson, Papa even took him on the chairlift!

Rereading Frost by Linda Pastan

Inspired by Cousin Suzanne, I’m participating in my first Poetry Friday. This poem rekindled my inspiration for writing a few years ago, and I still always keep it handy, just in case.

Rereading Frost

by Linda Pastan

Sometimes I think all the best poem

have been written already,

and no one has time to read them,

so why try to write more?

At other times though,

I remember how one flower

in a meadow already full of flowers

somehow adds to the general fireworks effect

as you get to the top of a hill

in Colorado, say, in high summer

and just look down at all that brimming color.

I also try to convince myself

that the smallest note of the smallest

instrument in the band,

the triangle for instance,

is important to the conductor

who stands there, pointing his finger

in the direction of the percussions,

demanding that one silvery ping.

And I decide not to stop trying,

at least not for a while, though in truth

I’d rather just sit here reading

how someone else has been acquainted

with the night already, and perfectly.

The Family that Knits Together…

Manuski snapped this photo Sunday evening. After church we’d gone skiing and listened to The Sword in the Stone audio book in the car on the way to and from the mountain. We were all really into the story, so when we got home we ate a snack, put our jammies on and kept listening while working on our respective projects. Zazzy was already in bed at this point and I’m clearly close to passing out.

Scary Analogy from the Changing Table

What is it with toddlers and poopy diapers? Lately I’ve been having the same conversation I’ve had time and again with different children over the years.

Me: Zazzy, I think you have a poop. Do you have a poopy diaper?

The Zaz: No.

Me: Are you sure?

The Zaz: No!

Me: Are you sure you’re sure?

The Zaz (getting very fussy): NO!

Me: Well, I’m pretty sure. Let’s go change your diaper.

The Zaz (dancing about and trying to run away): NO!! No wannit changa diapo!

And of course by this time, I’ve scooped him up and carried him, screaming, down the hall to change the offending diaper, with him crying bloody murder the whole time. Which just makes me wonder: Do you like that poopy diaper, kid?? Is it benefitting you?

Which leads me to my point in bringing this up in polite society. It’s a good analogy of me and my sin.

The Lord: I think you have some sin in your life. Is that sin?

Me: No.

The Lord: Are you sure?

Me: No!

The Lord: Okay, let’s just go get that sin out of your life now.

Me: NO!! I want to squish around in it a little longer!

Gross.

Favorite Quick Things to Make for Dinner that Make Me Look Like I Have it All Together When My Honey Walks Through That Door

One of my personal favorites is Frittata. And now that three family members are out for the evening, two boys safely in the bathtub, and a messy kitchen counter successfully being ignored, I will tell you about it. I used to read about frittatas in cookbooks and get nervous. “A crustless quiche” they’d say, and that didn’t sound very fun, because the crust was my favorite part of the quiche. What they didn’t stress was that without a crust, it means that you don’t have to roll out a crust, and the whole thing can be put together lickety split. One wild night though, the frozen crust wasn’t in the freezer where I had left it, and with 30 minutes ‘til showtime, I had to make a fast decision and gave the frittata a try. I LOVED IT! We all thought it was delicious (even the kids). It was hearty enough for the husband, and I grew especially fond because I could 1) cook it all in one pan 2) not measure 3) use up the random leftovers found on the refrigerator dive, 4) get dinner on the table in about 20 minutes.

For example, leek, ham and gruyere cheese makes a fabulous frittata combination and I’ll put that in the recipe below, but tonight what I fished out of the fridge, and subsequently put in the frittata was: a few slices of ham, chopped up, some oven fried potatoes and green peas that were in the same leftover container, about a tablespoon of goat cheese, a handful of already grated cheddar cheese left from lunch. I also added some chopped fresh oregano from the indoor pot my sweet friend brought me. It was great! and filling! and cheap! and fast! and easy! And, I might add, naturally gluten free.

The Frittata

What you need:

cast iron pan

1 T. of butter

leek or onion, chopped

3-4 slices of ham, cut into squares

4-5 eggs

milk

salt and pepper

1/2 cup grated gruyere cheese

What to do:

Preheat oven to 400*F. In a bowl, beat the eggs and add a few tablespoons of milk and salt and pepper. Heat the cast iron pan over medium high heat and melt the butter. Brown the leeks or onions for a few minutes until they are getting tender, then add the ham and brown that too for a couple minutes. Pour in the egg mixture, turn off the stove and sprinkle the cheese on top. Pop in the oven and bake for 15-20 minutes, until it is firm. This gives you time to set the table and clean up the kitchen a little, or go read your friend’s blog!

What are your favorite fast dinners?

LouLou's Gluten-Free Freedom

Hello! I eat gluten free. At first it was disappointing, but it's really worth it! I can't believe how much better I feel! I know how discouraging it can feel so I'm hoping that by writing on this blog it will encourage and help someone eating gluten free. Last winter I was very thin and my parents were worried about me. My Mother took to see a Naturopath doctor in Feburary and she had me take a blood test to see if it was allergies. Well it turned out to be gluten that was bugging me. After a month of not any gluten I had a day fulled with lots of gluten-filled waffles, scones, pizza... I felt worse than before. Well that comfirmed it. No more gluten for me! But I wanted to go off this time, I didn't want to be tired, groggy and grumpy. Now my Mother has gone gluten free too and together we have found how to adjust some not-good-enough recipes to really yummy-nummy recipes. In this blog we'd like to share them with you, though we also believe in finding naturally gluten free edibles!

Easy Gluten-Free Sauteed Mushrooms

After I started eating gluten free I started trying a few new things like... mushrooms! I love 'em! Here is a super-duper easy recipe for sauted Mushrooms, with a result that makes my stomach rumble! Here it is!
Slice as many mushrooms as you feel like eating. Put a saucepan on the stove and turn the stove on high. Let the pan warm up for a minute. Plop a slice of butter in the saucepan and let it melt.(If the butter is not salted throw a dash of salt in also.) Then pour your mushrooms in and let sit for five minutes, stiring and turning over from time to time to let them brown on each side. By the end of five minuets they should be brown and just the tiniest bit crispy.
Eat!

Beginner Ballet

Tonight I went to my second ballet class as an adult beginner. Last week I was there as the newbie with two friends, but neither of them could make it tonight. Fie on them! There was also a substitute instructor, who was not as beginner friendly as the regular teacher from last week. She was quite friendly herself, but the combinations we were to do were quite beyond my exceedingly limited abilities. And the only other adult beginner from last week was also absent. So it was me, the uncoordinated adult beginner and a bunch of teenage cuties who can lift their legs really high. Sigh.

The whole idea is to get some exercise in a different way than jogging on the treadmill at the YMCA while watching the talking heads on CNN and trying to read the closed captioning without getting seasick. That certainly was accomplished, but by golly the friends had better return next week. Scary new ventures involving mirrors and coordination and insecurities are sooooo much better with friends.

Creation Magazine

Last week I stumbled on Creation Magazine at my local public library of all places, in the midst of a bunch of wacky periodicals. I’ve really been enjoying it. It is very readable, but quite scholarly and edifying in presenting the latest in creation research. I’ve been reading a lot (well, as much of ‘a lot’ as I get to these days) on this topic lately, and I’m filled with a sense of urgency to take the Biblical account of history at its word and to have answers ready for when my kids ask me questions. When we’re confronted with ‘billions and billions’ of years in books and museums, I’ve got to do better than, “Uh…um…there was this ark, see...” There actually are answers and a lot of really smart people doing research. I just need to become better informed. I think this magazine will help and I recommend it. If you live near me, you can put it on hold at the library!

Makin’ It Work – the Real Story of the Merovingians

Early last week as we sat down to do history, and the kids were making grumbly noises about coloring their maps, I remembered that I had been thinking we were overdue for a "craft." They do spice up history so. I vaguely remembered something in the activity book about making some sort of decorative something. Cool, I thought, they can color that while I read. "Okay, kids, today we will make Merovingian brooches," I said in my yeah, I've got it all together voice. Foolishly I said this before reading all the instructions. They said:

You will need:

• white unlined paper check
• pencil check
• gold, blue, red and yellow Sculpey, WHAT??!! Sculpey?? I thought we were coloring!
• copper wire, at least 16 gauge, at hardware stores, Copper Wire??!! When was the last time I was at a hardware store?? No trip planned today.
• hammer, okay, whew, got one of those, but what will we hammer?
• drinking glass check
• glass pie plate check
• pin back (at craft stores) um….maybe we can figure something else out…

After panicking, I remembered that there might actually be some Sculpey left unused in a crafty drawer downstairs. “Hang on, just a minute kids, keep coloring the maps.” Ah! There was indeed Sculpey! Just enough to make us some dandy brooches. Back upstairs. Ta Da! “Here kids, we shall make our Merovingian brooches out of this Sculpey! Too bad about the wire, that would’ve looked cool.” Marina, looking at me funny, “Don’t we have some copper wire? Down with the beading stuff?” Oh. Maybe we do….back down to the crafty drawers…yes, indeed some copper wire, not 16 gauge, but never mind that. From then on, I sat down, took a deep breath and read all the instructions out loud. And it worked, and our brooches turned out pretty neat.

Then of course, we needed an event to which to wear our brooches, so we hatched the notion of a Merovingian meal. Merovingians were sort of descendants of the Gaulish tribes, sort of like Asterix, right? And there was a pork tenderloin the freezer we could have for wild boar and we mixed up some lovely pink magic potion, also a la Asterix. A little historically off, but festive! There were instructions in the book for making yarn wigs, and I was just going to use the big skein of unused green yarn I found downstairs, but there was general outcry against green hair, so I caved and actually bought yarn to make the wigs, which went against my plan of using up what we have. Peter almost cried because we were making him wear a wig and no amount of telling him how fierce and manly the Merovingians were could allay his distress. In the end, he came around because Manu set a good example as Clovis. I was Clotilda, but yesterday I placed a ban on posting dorky photos of one’s mother.

A Merovingian Feast

Today, I, Looloo, shall report on our Merovingian Feast. Since our history, Story of the World, led us to the Merovingians, we decided to have Merovingian Feast. Our history book had some neat ideas so, last night we dressed up in wigs, since long hair was a sign of rebellion against the Romans, and pinned on our brooches to hold up our capes. We feasted upon wild boar, leaks, and had ice cream “from the north”, and had a marvelous time. 

Two young Merovingians.

Clovis, a Frankish King

 

A pink Warrior

A happy Merovingian.

Fling, Flang, Flung

This morning was the Seattle Highland Dance Winter Competition at which Mina competed. She won a 2nd place medal in her Scottish lilt and also placed in the other 3 dances she danced! How exciting!

The whole highland dance subculture is quite interesting to observe. Have you seen Strictly Ballroom? "No new steps!" sort of sums up the highland dance world. But it's fun and a great outlet for Mina's competitive streak. Plus there's nothing quite like bagpipes at 9 a.m. to wake up the sleepy winter brain. Whoa.

Mina and a small highland friend.

a few last-minute pointers from Mrs. Webb

the primary, beginner and novice divisions

Mina, just about to start flinging

Farm Report II

Last week, after the snow had melted and the floodwaters had receded, we noticed bits of green poking out of the kids' garden boxes. So they went to investigate. Pete-O found a few leeks...

and Mina a goodly bunch of brightly colored carrots. Very tasty in midwinter...and just in time to inspire us to dream over the brightly colored seed catalog that had just arrived in the mail.

Since I never posted pictures of their gardens in their glory, I'll do so now. This was in June:

Blas-Fix Egg Blower

Cuzzy asked what an egg blower is. When we were little, in order to get hollow Easter Eggs, we had to blow them out with our mouths. Sometimes raw egg yolk would ooze out onto your lips, and sometimes you'd forget and suck instead of blow. Yuck! It was really hard on my sinuses and made my ears hurt too. And we weren't even worried about salmonella yet!

So the Germans, who love to celebrate Easter with pretty things, came up with a nifty little pump to empty your eggs and clean them out, making only one hole in the egg. Here it is.

Farm Report

Our hens began laying in the darkest week of December! Now we are averaging about 2 1/2 eggs a day -- they conveniently all lay different color eggs so it's easy to tell them apart. The only problem is bringing myself to use them, because they are so pretty. So I got out my Easter Egg blower so I can save the shells for Easter. Aren't they pretty?

Unblown eggs....working on a full dozen, but we keep eating them.

The notion of chickens in the snow is strangely romantic to me, and during our First December Snow, (not to be confused with The Big December Snow-during which the chickens refused to come out of their pen) I found myself humming "Chickens in the Snow" to myself to the tune of "Strangers in the Night".

Here's one "exchanging glances."

Lack of Discretionary Time

I've been wondering lately where people find the time to blog. Or more specifically, where do mothers of multiple children find time to blog. Though I try not to, I keep find myself thinking that there's got to be something large that they're neglecting in order to find the time. And thinking thus, I glance around me looking for something to neglect so that I too can write witty things. Only to find that I'm already neglecting it! HA! But no, I know that it actually has to do with choices, and I suspect, a certain perfectionist streak I possess. What if I wrote something and posted it quickly and someone happened upon it and then it was grammatically incorrect?! Horrors!

A couple years ago, when my kids were very small, I chatted with a neighbor whose children were in junior high and high school. She lamented the fact that because she'd been running them around and doing stuff for them she hadn't really been able to "own the day." After a moment, when I understood the concept she'd referred to, I almost busted out laughing. "Own the Day!" What an idea! Had I any recollection of what that might mean? Had I ever really known what it meant to "own the day?" That phrase has stuck with me and makes me chuckle inside on days when every moment to do anything, even for other people, feels stolen from somewhere else. I think to myself, "I suppose I didn't 'own the day.' " Did I own part of a day? Was the part I owned between 6:30 and 7:00 when I turned off my alarm but didn't quite get up before the kids as planned?

So today I didn't own the day. Or much of a part of it. It was a good day, a full and busy and educational day, but I can't really say that I owned it. And now, at 10 p.m. this bit that I'm using to write this feels not so much "owned" as it feels like borrowed or swiped, only swiped like something that no one really wanted anyway. Like stealing someone's old socks. I am not comfortable, my clothes are too tight and been worn too long and have too much jam on them. I can't see because my contacts are all dried out and sticking to my eyeballs and filming over. But it does feel good anyway to write here, and at least say I had a day. "Hey, World! I had a day! Maybe I didn't own it, but at least I lived it!"

And now, I've just scared off my dear husband who poked his head around the corner and asked encouragingly, "Are you writing? blog entries?" "Trying!" I said, not so very kindly. Oh dear.

A Wonderful Christmas

We had a wonderful Christmas full of fun, family, and laughter.
On Christmas Eve we went to our Christmas Eve service. To me and mama it doesn't feel like Christmas without a Christmas Eve service, so even though it was snowy and wet, we made out of the house. After the service we had some friends over for a late dinner type thing.
Grandma and our Uncle and Aunt spent the night of Christmas Eve with us. Christmas morning we woke up and had a wonderful breakfast of aeblescivers - like pancakes only smaller, round and hollow.Yum! We then turned to the massive pile of presents under the tree.

Mama opens her beautiful table runner from Tata.


The zaz studies his lego-train thingamijig.


Peter is thrilled about his helicopter "that really flies!"



Somehow we didn't manage to get any good pics of me, looloo or papa. But we were there.


Mina