girl from the north

i cried at work

2012-01-21T15:37:00.000-08:00

It happens. It especially happens to teachers. So I don't feel wimpy or pathetic.

I was at work the other day, sitting in my little nook. The nook where I sit with kids and try to help them catch up their peers in their literacy and math skills. No easy feat. Especially when a lot of these kiddos have a lot going on. And by a lot going on I mean, poverty, P.T.S.D, Specific Learning Disabilities, domestic violence, hunger, ADHD, Autism, neurological disabilities etc. Sometimes they don't want to de students. How can you blame them? And, what do you do then? I don't know. I have no magic answer. But I sometimes feel like I should.

And I also feel a little tired and guilty for not seeing my kids as much. And sometimes I even feel a little lonely.

So I was in my nook. Not imagining that there were tears that needed to come out. Sitting in a tiny chair surrounded by papers. And Rosaria poked her head in. Rosaria is a voluptuous, beautiful, Puerto Rican 5th grade Sp.Ed teacher who tells it like it is. Rosaria, or mama, as we call her, delivered her first hug and kiss to me on my first day of work. She calls me mamita (little mama) and on this particular morning she said I looked like a gift (because my blouse had a bow on it). She asked me how I was, in her extremely thick Puerto Rican accent. I said I was fine. And at that same moment I realized I was lying and I choked out, "Actually, I'm not .." before I burst into tears. At first Rosaria said, "No, none of that mamita." Then, when she realized these were earnest tears, she swept me up into her perfumed, glistening-with-bling, bosom and brought me into her room.

She asked me what my biggest problem was. We started with that and then she listened as I told her all of my problems/concerns, professional and personal. She listened. She gave me practical advice. And then she told me her story. Which, duh, was way more dramatic and rife with serious problems than mine. Though she didn't tell me to make me feel like mine were less.

I left that room feeling abluted and calm.

It was good.

Meet my next Boyfriend.

2012-01-15T10:24:00.000-08:00

Ah, James. I knew you'd see the light eventually.

Just kidding. Unfortunately.

I am not going to date for awhile. I actually went on a few dates with a friend of a friend recently. He was nice, smart, cute, etc. but with a new job I don't have time for it. And I don't have the emotional energy for it either.

So I am going to focus on teaching and mothering and yes, playing the mandolin. I don't have time for lessons but I will start this Spring or Summer. And before taking a few lessons I will treat myself to a lovely mandolin when I get my first paycheck. Nothing fancy but I have had my eye on a vintage resonator model at our local music shop for a few months now....This is not it but it might be close.

Gratitude

2012-01-14T10:18:00.000-08:00

Image from Ludmila Crigan-Mihajlovic via Lindsey Fowler
http://pinterest.com/pin/21040323228649399/

It almost seems to early to be saying this. It has only been three days. However, the days have not been easy and I have had a real taste of what my job is going to be like day in, day out, and so I feel like I can say with some confidence, that Allelujah ! I love it.

I am also completely OVERWHELMED.

And a little SCARED.

And INTIMIDATED.

And HOLY SHITE.

What do I love about it?

First of all, the kids. I currently have ten kids on my caseload, 3 Kindergartners and 7 third graders, but it is growing. They are all children of color, mostly African American but with a few Latinos/ Latinas. They are affectionate, super bright, full of personality kiddos. All of their challenges and strengths are different and getting to know them has been so much fun. I get hugs!!!

The teachers and staff in the school have been incredibly supportive and encouraging. I have spent the first week trying to gauge what they need from me, what works best for different teachers etc. They all seem to be very flexible and easy to work with.

The commute is not ideal (40+ minutes and sometimes heavy urban traffic) but absolutely doable.

The feeling of having worked for two and a half years on something that was stressful and challenging but that ultimately led to me getting a meaningful job that I enjoy and that I feel is so important and that "pays in money", as Ezra likes to put it, is an incredible feeling.

Thank you to all my friends and family who gave me any support be it in the form of a hug, a listening ear, a word of encouragement etc.

I feel so grateful.

xo

Rosie- An Inspired collage...Four Years...xoxo

2012-01-09T05:15:00.000-08:00

I love you Rosie...

A Better Brekky for the New Year...

2012-01-02T06:47:00.000-08:00

Today, I squeezed orange juice for my kids. They ate it with peanut butter toast. Henry had a fried egg with cholula hot sauce on it and more toast to sop up the runny yolks. Ezra had a side of plain yogurt with a drizzling of maple syrup. For me, it was water, coffee, egg with hot sauce and toast. I always start my day with a a big glass of about 20 ounces of water.
Often we have cold cereal. Or oatmeal. Though Ezra has yogurt almost every day. He is not a big breakfast eater.

Get the pdf for this nifty breakfast flow chart here.

As well as thinking about breakfast, I have been thinking a bit about getting my own place. In a few months I will have hopefully saved up enough for a bitty apt. My dream apt. is half of an old house, in the country, with woods and fields for the boys to romp in. We would be allowed a dog or a cat. We would be allowed chickens. Rent would be less than $900. No carpets. Two floors. Lots of southern exposure. It is a bit of a dream but I think it is possible.

In the meantime, I think about sofas. I am actually quite bipolar when it comes to sofa preference.

If I had a zillion dollars. I would be purchasing a tufted or otherwise beautiful anthropologie sofa in the next year...

But it is more likely to be Raymour and Flanagan or IKEA for me...

The Girls from the North Country

2012-01-01T07:42:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!! I celebrated New Years Eve by staying in bed and reading (finishing) Jeffrey Eugenides' The Marriage Plot. Very enjoyable.While I was reading the boys were turning my living room into a scary disaster, but whatever. The boys and I celebrated together by playing Bloku and Mad Libs for hours. We took breaks for shrimp cocktail, pizza and ice cream sundaes. It was so much fun to just enjoy them. I did not do any school work all day. I am so grateful for my life. I have the most wonderful family and friends. The last few years have been tough but I have so much to look forward to. Love and hugs to all!

In other news...A good band that shares my blog's name...

And if you want to really cry...

And if you need to punish yourself for some reason..A Bon Iver covered Bonnie Raitt for you...

My Daguerreotype Boyfriend

2011-12-23T13:01:00.000-08:00

Molly just introduced me to a really fun blog.

My Daguerreotype Boyfriend
Where Early Photography Meets Extreme Hotness.

I love that a blog like this exists. My sisters and I just spent the last 10 minutes sipping tea and ogling over hot dead dudes.

Christmas Cookies/Cookys- Read this if you think you could use a good case of the guffaws

2011-12-21T08:55:00.000-08:00

My dad wrote this in an email recently. I believe it was his version of a holiday greeting card. It cracked me up. P.S Pops, I am making you some molasses cookies over break. xoxo

The fact of the matter is, that I am indifferent to the color or
shapes of cookies, even Christmas cookies. Round, square, in the shape
of a fat man or reindeer, blue green, red with sprinkles; it's all the
same to me--so long as they taste good. So when Debi was making a
batch of Christmas cookies I was suddenly overcome by the nostalgia of
Mom's molasses cookies. Big ones, soft and cakey, that you eat with a
cauldron of cold, whole milk. That you can dunk, or to avoid the
ineveitable decomposition of the cookie when it is saturated, and the
disconcerting particulate suspension in the milk, which no one is
particularly fond of, you can do what I do. Disgustingly, take a
large bite of the cooky and then fill any void spaces left over in
your mouth with milk. To do this right you need a bib, but I never
wear one.

Well there was no recipe for molasses cookies in the family cookbook
that we put together so I went on the internet. Some of the recipes
there used a lot of spices such as cloves, ginger, cinnamon and
allspice, but I did not remember mom's cookies being particularly
spicy, I just remembered the taste of the molasses. So I decreased
the amounts of spices and eliminated cloves. Some of the recipes
called for a large proportion of refined sugar as compared to the
molasses, but as I indicated before, what I remembered from Mom's
cookies was the flavor of the molasses, so I upped the proportion of
black strap molasses and pretty much eliminated the refined sugar. I
synthesized several recipes for the egg, milk and flour components,
and because the memory of molasses cookies was so strong I decided to
double the recipe.

Then it came to mixing the ingredients together, and the truth is, I
probably could have followed the directions a little better with
regard to the sequence of adding ingredients, etc. Looking back, it
is clear to me now that mixing half a cubic yard of sakrete in a
wheelbarrow would have taken about the same amount of effort, and
would have yielded similar results. This is where I began to get some
premonitions of the eventual outcome.

Debi remarked that she had not seen molasses cooky dough that stiff,
and she questioned the nature of the copious white nodules in the
batter. I explained that they were organic, and could be eaten.

The only thing about cookies, other than taste, that I am not
indifferent too is size, so I decided to make them big. I retreived a
wide mouth glass from the cup board and used that to cut out the
cookies from the rolled-out dough. Interestingly, as stiff as the
mixed dough was, I was able to use a standard rolling pin to roll it
out and did not have to trouble myself with renting some sort of a
roller from Uhall.

Then I baked them, I used the maximum temperature and the maximum time
from the assorted recipes on the internet for the first batch, and in
successive batches doubled the time, then added to that. I finally
resorted to finishing them off using the convection utility on the
oven which converts it to sort of a blast furnace.

I was disappointed, the cookies are lousy. They have the specific
gravity of a lead sinker, but slightly better texture. On the upside
they do not dissolve when you dunk them milk, in fact, I am not sure
they would dissolve in nitric acid. They are round and about the size
of a clay pigeon. They could be used as such, except I doubt if they
would break apart unless they were hit dead center with a deer slug.

I jotted down the recipe that I was propounding from my imagination
and the internet sources, I am considering approaching Corning glass
with it, I think that many of the ceramic properties of the cookies
have industrial or military applications.

Then I thought of the other thing. When I think of cookies, really
contemplate them, I come to realize that they are the villians of the
cullinary world. What do cookies contribute to nutrition---nothing.
In fact too much sugar has been linked to all sorts of health
problems. The other thing about cookies is that they are addictive,
they are like rabbits, one cooky begets another, and another, and
another, etc. For example, starting with the resolve to just eat one,
the next thing that you know is that you have gone through a quart of
milk and a couple of sleeves of Oreo's.

Not with these cookies, beginning with the first bite, there is in
fact a diminishing desire to take another bite. Finish the first
cookie (some alzheimers patients and unusually desparate people would
do that) and the the idea of having another cooky, any cooky is
repugnant. Better yet the after taste remains with you for the rest
of the day.

If you visit us over the holidays you can have as many as you want.

A job?

2011-12-20T17:36:00.000-08:00

This is not how I spent my morning.

Today I had my second job interview.

I was a bit of a nervous wreck. I know this about myself, so the night before I took a diphenhydramine and went to bed at 9, so that I wouldn't be nervous and sleep deprived. I left for the interview at 7:45, giving myself an hour and 15 minutes to make a 50 minute drive, knowing that I would likely get lost in, I did. But only for a short while. The drive was nerve wracking because I hate fast paced urban driving. And I hate driving in new places. Really I am more of a horse and buggy type. So anyway. I got there. And proceeded to have what I thought was a pretty shitty interview. Sure, I shined a few times. But there were at least two instances in which I was fumbling over words and thinking to myself, "This sucks. Am I making sense. Do I sound like an idiot." Not a good sign right?

But I had already realized that if I was not offered the job I wouldn't beat myself up about it because I don't need the freaking commute or the challenge of teaching low-income kids who are minorities with special needs in the neediest school district in the state. I don't mean to sound heartless. I am also excited about teaching these kids. And they deserve passionate, caring, devoted teachers like me who so want to be the best teacher that they give themselves ulcers. But I am terrified. And intimidated. And would rather be doing it as a single person with no kids of her own and a less complicated personal life.

Then they told me they wanted to hire me. One of the interviewers actually said, "We want to hire you." And she said, "I think this went very well." A few times. I am pretty sure she was trying to convince herself. I am pretty sure they didn't get a lot of applicants. But I need the job. And it pays better than the district I live in. I don't quite have the job yet though. I have to be observed teaching a lesson. Unless I bomb that, I suppose I have a job. She said she wants me to start work before the 9th of January. And I am sure a month in, I will stop vibrating and putting the lettuce in the freezer like I did today.

This afternoon I bought two books that promise to help me become a better (white) teacher of minority kids.

Black Ants and Buddhists- Thinking Critically and Teaching Differently in the Primary Grades

And

Beyond heroes and Holidays- A practical Guide to K-12 Anti-Racist, Multicultural Education and Staff Development.

I'll let you know how it goes...

Dating- A Tragicomedy, Le Fin

2011-12-12T18:46:00.000-08:00

Dating is crazy. Almost as crazy as a woman in a bikini trying to be a clock.

Aliens
Dating for me was/is an alien experience. I never really dated before I got married. Anyone I went out with was someone I had already known. No online dating. No let's hang out first in daylight so I can make sure you are not a complete psycho. I tend to attract some pretty wackadoodle people in my non-dating life already, I have no desire to push my luck. So, beginning to date felt like being plunked down into another country without a lonely planet guide, without a compass, without even traveler's checks. Do those even exist any more? I guess they do? And if we take the confusion and pain and well, confusion that is the natural outcome of a separation, even a very amicable and loving one like mine, if we could take that confused pain out of the equation, dating is still very confusing.

The Game
There is the whole game thing. To play or not to play. Some friends/siblings/cousins will counsel you to not call the person even if you are DYING to. Some will say to wait, three, no four days to call. Some will say keep emails to a maximum of 5 lines. Some will say do not be too eager. I have always loved cats but if I were a cat or a dog. I'd be a dog. I am eager. And I have trouble not showing my feelings. Trouble?? I am nearly incapable of it, unless it has to do with kids and professionalism, in which case I can hold my own. So, I don't play games. Even if I decided to wait to call or email or whatever, I would forget an hour later and oops, I have communicated. My cousin says that is a common downfall of women when it comes to dating. She claims that men, and women, want to chase. It is biological, she says. And I get that. But I suck at the letting myself be chased thing. So I don't let myself be chased. But then I worry the whole damn time that I should have.

So here is my story.

I dated this guy for several months. Was he ever my boyfriend? I don't think so. Did I want him to be? Yes. Could I talk to him about my frustrations with this? Hardly. At least not in any direct, articulate and meaningful kind of way. Because I felt like I was being neurotic or crazy or both. Because I was scared of being rejected. Because I did not know what I was doing, though people have been doing it for centuries. I wanted, in the wise words of Joni Mitchell, To knit him a sweater, write him a love letter and make him feel better. Or at least I thought I did. In the end, and after several months, the last few of which I was starting to feel slightly disappointed by him on a regular basis (not a good sign...duh), he dumped me. For an ex-girlfriend. Who he had been in love with for a year and a half. Who he was still in love with. And he did it in an email. And he did it the day after Thanksgiving, after declining to come to dinner at my house last minute.

So, for a few days I was really raw. And then we talked. And so many things made sense. And I realized it really was for the best. I have learned a few things. I should trust my gut more. I should not be afraid to put myself out there and be more vulnerable, maybe it would have ended things sooner with him. I still feel grateful to him. Aside from being the worst dumper, he was really sweet and he helped me get through a really tough time.

And there you have it.

The Civil Wars

2011-12-11T19:13:00.001-08:00

I am addicted to this song and this band right now. Big shout out to cousin Bobby for the introduction! Apparently they opened for Adele. That would be one amazing and depressing show.

Don't scowl at my cowl

2011-12-09T12:25:00.001-08:00

Last year I made a cowl that was a bit too restrained, itwasn’t cowly enough. This year, armed with a chunky wool blend in a lovelypeacock-teal shade and my size 11 needles, I set out to fulfill my need for acozy (easy to make) neckwarmer. It was a success, even my fashionable NYC sister (who woulddeclare she is not fashionable) wants one. I am making her one right now.

Mermaid Cowl- Super easy

I cast on 29 stitches (you need to use a multiple of 6stitches plus 5 to do the chevron pattern)

1^st row (right side) K5,[ p1, k5] to end

2^nd row K1, [p3, k3] to last 4 stitches, p3, k1

3^rd row P2, [k1, p2] to end

4^th row P1, [k3, p3] to last 4 stitches, k3, p1

5^th K2, [p1, k5] to last 3 stitches, p1, k2

6^th row Purl to end

Repeat these 6 rows until it is the length you desire. Bindoff and use a crochet hook to stitch up the seam.

Dating, a tragicomedy- Part deux

2011-11-29T18:00:00.001-08:00

In the café: Agostina Segatori in Le tambourin, 1887

Vincent van Gogh (1853-1890

The Date...

Before the date, like any educated, rational woman who has two kids, grad.school and a job to think about, I spent gobs of time considering what to wear. I settled on my lucky jeans, as in they give me luck, not the brand. I also opted to wear a wacky sleeveless shirt with a tropical print that could look cute on a grandma but seems to work on me in a not-too- ironic way, topped off with a plain navy cardi. On my feet I planned to wear my lucky shoes- red dansko maryjanes. Only they happened to be broken (have since been mended by peddler) and Kim informed me that one does not wear broken shoes on a first date, nor a second date even. Instead, I wore my lovely leather boots handed down by Laura L.

I was so nervous I hardly slept all week. I left my apartment a half hour early. I parked a few blocks away from the cafe and tried not to vomit or shit my pants in a bookstore not far from the meeting place. To console myself, I cowered in the poetry section. But I couldn't find Li Young Lee (Thanks, TIna) and that was what I had wanted to read so anyway... I went to the cafe a bit early because I wanted to avoid standing in line with an almost complete stranger who may or may not offer to buy me coffee and then we would have to have that convo. Not that I am against a man buying me coffee, but I could only imagine how awkward I could make that. Plus I was worried that then he would have to watch me think about which muffin I should buy, though I didn't want one but felt like I should eat one since I could barely eat that morning and didn't want to pass out in front of him. And I didn't want him to think I care about calories or anything though as you will soon read my coffee took care of that .And then he would witness me fumbling with change and trying to pay. Yes, I thought about all of these things. Am I Elaine?

So I am sitting in a black metal chair in the sunshine with my enormous muffin and my iced coffee, that I accidentally put so much cream in I may as well have ordered and ice cream sundae. I see him from halfway down the block and awkwardly stand up and he says my name and I say yes. I walk halfway there and put out my hand and say "nice to meet you", WAY PREMATURELY. Awkward. I mean, ten beats after my greeting, he has reached my hand. Meanwhile, my hand has been outstretched, waiting. We eventually sat down and had a nice time. I ended up not eating the enormous muffin. I could not stomach it. So it ended up in my purse. After all the worries about first impressions I put a muffin in my bag in front of him and that was totally fine. It reminded me of the time in a restaurant with Laura and Mike when as we walked through the bar to leave, I fumbled with my bag and a big crusty hunk of bread flew out and rolled down the carpet. I ignored it and walked on, my face beat red, as the bar patrons contemplated why homeless women seem to fit in and smell so much better these days. Clearly, I have not learned.

We talked for nearly two hours. And then I started thinking about how I would feel bad if he got up and was the first one who said he had to go. So I avoided that by saying I needed to check the time yada yada yada... And I asked him if he wanted to walk me to the parking garage. He said sure.

It was fun.
He was handsome and seemed really smart and interesting. He was older but I didn't care.

He said he hoped our paths crossed again? What? Does that mean he doesn't want to set up a date but if we randomly see each other in the street it might be pleasant? It is quite possible that he could tell I was crazy and so the fact that I did my best to be tres jolie won't matter much.

Later, in the parking garage I completely forgot how to use the parking card payment system though I have done it a zillion times. So I pretended that I needed help and the lady behind me told me what to do...

Then I couldn't find my card when it was time to go (1 minute later) and so the (annoyed) car behind me had to back up so I could pull over and find it under my purse.

On my way home, to top off the wackiness, I went to Wholepaycheck and bought some random food items in a daze.

To Be Continued...

Dating, a tragicomedy- Chapter One

2011-11-27T05:05:00.000-08:00

Sorry lovely flapper, you can vote, and you can get a divorce, but it is going to be miserable.

13 months ago, M. moved out. It was gradual but it was tough. We knew we wanted to work together and be adults about it. Sane sensitive adults, that is. And I think we have both agreed that while there is inevitable trauma in divorce, if parents behave and the kids don't see their parents hating on each other, the kids will be just fine. That is what we have heard and are banking on anyway.

Several months after M. moved out, and by moved out I mean he slept somewhere else but still cooked dinner, got his kids on the bus and was around almost as much as before, he and I were still sad. Yes, sad is the word. Sad is the right word if you mean crying yourself to sleep a few times a week, wiping tears in the bathroom at work, choking while getting the mail, sobbing in between night classes at the local university, while sitting in your dark car, listening to the Cure over your dinner of a thermos of lukewarm soup. Sad is the right word if sad means telling all your girlfriends that any day now you were going to chop off your locks take a vow of celibacy, and become a Buddhist nun.
Well, eventually even the best of girlfriends and sisters need to say buck up.

In my case it went something like like this...

Laura G.- "Your eyes are puffy. You look wan. Did I just say wan? And yet, despite your wanness you are quite a catch. Have I told you how lovely your cheekbones are today? You should try online dating."

Me- As I pass Laura the Sauvignon and the bowl of raw cookie dough." Hell no, I don't want another man, I want a dog. And you have amazing hair. How do you do it?"

Laura G.- "Snap out of it Kell, you can't have a dog in your apt. You can come over to my place, we'll sip some white wine and we'll put cute pictures of you up and come up with a profile and it will be fun!"

Me- [horrified look]

For some reason I must illustrate this horrified look as a librarian. How cute is my mani?

Laura G.- "You don't actually have to date anyone. But it will make you feel good about yourself to remember how cute you are."

Me- [horrified look]

A few weeks later I did create a profile. I deleted it the next day. Then one night, as I folded laundry in front of hbo, I created one again. A simple one with a tasteful picture of myself. I closed my lap top, went back to the living room to fold laundry. A half hour later I tiptoed back to my bedroom, opened up my laptop and scurried back to the fat chair in the living room to check on my profile. To my horror, someone, A MAN, was trying to instant message me, at that very moment. I literally snapped it shut, ran back to my room, tossed my laptop on my bed, closed the door, and resumed folding laundry. I felt violated. And not just a little bit neurotic.
The next day I erased that profile as well.

Eventually I created another one, and slogged through poorly written messages from men my age to 30 years older than me, looking for love, or well, sometimes other things too, but mostly love. It felt like a depressing cycle of rejection. To be honest, I was doing most of the rejecting but it still did not feel good. I was about to quit the online dating thing, again.

Then, a curious thing happened. I got a message. From an overeducated man. I tend to go for that type, maybe I should stop, but I'll discuss that later. The comment was silly. We had something in common. Something dorky in common. And he made a joke of it. He was cute in a nerdy way. With dark glasses and curly hair. We wrote back and forth for awhile and eventually he asked me to go for coffee.

To be continued...

the hostess

2011-07-17T06:02:00.000-07:00

I have been planning a friend's baby shower. I am happy to do it. I love my friend. I can't even remember if she asked me to do it or I offered. She probably asked me which embarrasses me somewhat, I should have offered first. Here's the thing, I have never felt like the hostess with the mostest. All the details of planning an affair for a large group of people stress me out. Remember, I am someone who gets antsy if I am not 5 minutes early for an event, a quirk that I am trying to work on. And I don't love being the center of attention. Though in this case, I won't be, I am not the one having the baby.

So my answer to these woes is to keep it really simple, which is a good mantra anyway, right? The invitations are correct, I quadruple checked them, the second time they went out. The pavilion in the park has been reserved. Food, drink and tableware has been taken care of. But, shouldn't there be something else? I will not make a grown women eat a melange of melted candy bar out of a freaking diaper. Nor will I make women play baby name bingo. And this is not going to be the spiritual blessingway event either, my friend has another friend planning that event for her, (an organic farmer from Ithaca no less).

I am not one for ironic or cutesy decorations and neither, I think, is my friend. Decorations will be flowers, in jars. Probably mason jars. But decoration ideas abound on the interweb. Check these out.

Is this a reference to the stork or is this telling us that now that we are having babies we will become old maids. UGLY. And not just a tiny bit terrifying.

no comment.

This is a diaper cake. non edible. Made of diaper paraphernilia. I am sure the women/woman who made it did it with love. And I feel like a party pooper. But, come on.

an itty bitty sultry summer ditty- 2 Ways

2011-07-04T07:29:00.001-07:00

Sea of Love

I am going to try to get back to blogging more regularly. I have had little time and too many distractions. One of the things I am trying to do is get off this uke plateau. Tricky. Especially since my favorite partner in uke playing has moved to Easthampton. But we have plans to practice every week and she is getting super good at banjo and we may even get a gig at a cafe. Here is a song that I just got the chords to this morning. IN this recording I am trying really hard to sound relaxed even though I m totally high on a cup of joe.
Easy chords. Simple song. Thanks, Cat Power.

Trouble- Cat Stevens

2011-05-13T10:50:00.000-07:00

MY NEW TENOR UKE!!!!! A huge thanks to Sharon and my mama!!!

Note that right before singing I say, "fudge ripple" instead of le "f" bomb. Dork.

This, a beach, a cocktail. All I need.

2011-05-03T11:56:00.000-07:00

A little bit o' bossa nova...lowers the blood pressure, I find.

The Talk

2011-05-02T15:55:00.000-07:00

For months, and I mean months, M. and I have procrastinated about having The Talk. Mostly due to fear. Fear of the hurt it would cause us. Fear of the hurt it would cause our kids, who of course had some sense of what was going on. But it finally came to a point where not telling them might cause more damage than telling them.

They have known that for months now daddy doesn't sleep at home. But in the beginning M. was coming home so early in the am and leaving so late at night, it was barely noticeable. But since M. and I have become more comfortable with the seperation it has become more definitive. The boundaries are slowly becoming clearer. The kids had to be told.

So, after a couple hours of post-school soccer, with the sun shining and the birds chirping outside. Sitting around our ikea dinner table with my nana Kitty's china laden with whole wheat tortilla wraps (avocado, pepper, red onion, tomato, carrot ribbon and cream cheese wraps) and fruit salad (mango, banana and strawberry), I dove right in.

"Hey, guys, you've noticed how dad is staying at Uncle Johnny's right?", they nod, munching away, "Well, it's because daddy and I want some space from each other. We still love each other", M. joins the table and adds a few thoughts. And it goes on. We say "we will always love each other and we will always be a family."Ez giggles. We ask why. He says, "because I already knew that of course." A few minutes later, after more rambling from us. Ez asks to be excused. So he can play. We ask him to tell us first how he feels. "Wierd. I dunno." he says. Henry says he wishes we could all live together.

It is not your fault.
We will always be a family.
Every family is different.
We love each other.
We love you.
Daddy misses sleeping in the same house with you. It makes him a little sad. But he is not terribly sad (this especially for Henry, our worrier)
We are doing this so we won't fight and be very unhappy.
It is not your fault.
You can always call daddy.
We will still do family things together.
This summer you can camp at Uncle Johnny's with daddy.
You can talk to us anytime about this.
We love you.

Now I am part relieved. Part waiting for the fallout.

Favorite Ukelele Links...

2011-04-12T10:21:00.000-07:00

Another pretty uke. Custom Resonator with Koa body, Rope Binding and Ivoroid Headstock Overlay....from James Clem

I have a way to go I admit, but the great thing about learning to play the easiest instrument in the world is that internet lessons abound. As do, chords, charts etc...
Here are a few of my favorite spots to snag a new song or a new strumming method...

Pineapple Pete has some good lessons from basic to advanced and beyond.

Ukelele Songs. com

Chordie has guitar chords but you can use those to play uke.

Richard G.s songbook has tons of uke tunes

Aaron Keim's Lessons on youtube are great. This is the clawhammer which I am working on but you can move to the other lessons from here...

There are tons of sites online that feature guitar chords and you can use those to play uke. The chord placement is different unless you play baritone uke. But you can use the notes...

Ga Ga

2011-04-12T09:59:00.000-07:00

Is it so terribly wrong to think that I would become a master at the uke if I had an Oscar Schmidt Bell shaped Tenor ukelele? The bell shape was apparently very popular in the 1920s. Sorry you can't see her lovely neck. Isn't she purty?

Happy Day! Sun! Song!

2011-04-09T12:19:00.000-07:00

Oh Susannah!

Taking a break from a lit. review.

Decided to record a song. This sounds better when Kim and I do it together. But I have yet to record us singing together. Soon.

it is going to be fun

2011-04-07T13:00:00.000-07:00

to have freckles on my face.
to be looking forward to camping. barbecues. sand in toes.
to be done with papers. FOREVER.
and to watch this romantic comedy.

Finger Picking W.I.P

2011-04-05T11:37:00.000-07:00

2 finger style
I am working on some other finger picking too but not ready to show it.
my coordination is improving somewhat.....

But I think I look like a zombie in this film. or maybe subconciously i am trying to look like a junkie...it is raining. I am tired...I may be getting a cold.

Junkie Song- Be Good Tanyas

This sounds right to me...

2011-04-03T10:06:00.000-07:00

I have a simple philosophy: Fill what's empty. Empty what's full. Scratch where it itches.

-Alice Roosevelt Longworth

A list of some things to do when you are trying not to be depressed.

2011-03-25T10:33:00.000-07:00

1. Get a physical. For real. Having a doctor tell you that you do not have cancer and in fact you are perfectly healthy can bring your mood up for awhile. That is unless you find out you are sick. But then at least you figured that out and can get proactive.

2. Learn something new. I bought a ukelele and in a few weeks am going to be playing and singing with my friend at her art opening. We are trying to come up with a name for our duo. Let me know if you have any ideas...Next: banjo and lessons.

3. Eat healthy and get moving. Shove vegetables and healthy grains into your system. This will counteract all of the chocolate and coffee. Dance or do something active. that one is obvious and not always easy but it truly helps.

4. Get spiritual. There is nothing like the wisdom of Buddha, Thich Nhat Han, Pema Chodron or the Toltecs to get you to see where you should send your energy. Burning candles, yoga and baths can be rejuvinating.

5. Be gentle with yourself. Listen to the negative things you say to yourself, such as, "I will always be alone." or "Something must be wrong with me.", "I have failed my children. I suck."or the absolute worst, "LOOK AT MY THIGHS, HOLY COW", etc... When you say those things you are just sending more negative energy to yourself. It is a form of punishment. Is it fair to punish yourself over and over for the same thing? NO.

6. Help someone else. Donate to a good cause. Spend some time with an elderly person who is lonely. Tutor someone. Babysit for a a friend who needs a night out with her husband. It will put things in perspective in a good way. Okay except for that last one.

7. Wallow and then move on. Wallow and then move on. Repeat. Allow yourself time to cry. Have an ice pack ready in the morning so you can open your eyes. And then do something useful, like feeding your kids breakfast. Later, have a good cry again. and then do the dishes. Reward yourself with that accomplishment by having another good cry. And then get back to the real world again and kick that lit. review in the arse.

8. Listen to something that makes you oh so happy.

from lemons comes curd

2011-03-24T13:32:00.000-07:00

As I was inspecting Henry's winter coat for signs indicating immediate laundering turning his pockets inside out and throwing away tissues, a broken nerf bullet and a crumpled clue from a birthday treasure hunt, it occurred to me that avoiding this blog because my life has been so difficult might be a bit silly. It is true that on some days I am too busy to write or think about the blog; papers, preschool, my own children demand so much of my time. But I have also been avoiding it because Matty moved out in October. And it is a topic so painful and personal. Then I realized that most people who read this blog know about it. And while I am not about to turn my blog into The Diary of a Woebegone Woman, I can use it to write about what is helping us through this painful time.

Marriage is complicated. Matt and I still love each other and we intend to work through this together and come out happier individuals in the end, whether we are Together or Not. Which is why we have been doing this slowly. Which is why our kids do not even know. And why we are trying to be good friends to each other. But I don't always see things this clearly. Sometimes it all seems just sad and confusing. We have spent nearly half our lives together. Who am I without Matt?

As you can probably tell, today is a good day. Possibly because the sun is shining and I have the day off tomorrow. Possibly because I slept less fitfully last night. Possibly because I burned so much sage and lit so many candles while I took a bath at 2 in the afternoon that I am experiencing a chemical high that one only experiences after breathing in sage and candles and listening to a favorite bluegrass pandora station so loud that the neighbors think you are having a spiritual hoedown.

So I am trying to be gentle with myself and Matt. Not selfish or indulgent. But gentle. Which means forgiving and kind. And maybe it means buying sage smudge sticks in bulk.

For Japan with Love

2011-03-18T19:09:00.000-07:00

And grateful that Kaori and her family are safe.

http://forjapanwithlove.com/

adele-love

2011-03-05T09:04:00.001-08:00

Henry was sick this week. He missed a day and a half of school. And we enjoyed extra cuddle time. One afternoon, we laid in bed together chatting and listening to Adele's new album and I couldn't resist showing him this super cool video.

I love this painting

2011-03-01T12:01:00.000-08:00

By Chelsea James
In fact, I love all of her paintings and wish I could buy one or even a print. Someday. The mistiness of this one, and the fact that it is an aerial view of a rural landscape that is abstracted if you just glance at it without a thought, really attracts me.

St Baldricks

2011-02-27T06:24:00.000-08:00

A college acquaintance of mine is shaving her head to raise money to support research for childhood cancers. I am so impressed. She has beautiful, long blond hair.

She was a good friend of Rosie's. Here is a link to her fundraising page if you care to donate.

organizing your bookcase via apartment therapy...

2011-02-26T06:13:00.001-08:00

Inspiring me...

2011-02-25T08:29:00.000-08:00

Wowza....

Crowns and Beauty...

2011-02-24T11:18:00.000-08:00

My cousin recently won the title of Miss Boston which will allow her to compete for Miss Massachusetts. I am not a fan of pageants really but I am a fan of my cousin and I think it is cute and quirky that she notes the following about herself- "I have fostered and rehabilitated almost 50 animals in the past three years ranging from bottle-baby kittens, to opossums, to baby rabbits. I can also pull a 40-foot rig, drive a tractor, and make delicious frosting."

She has for years been involved in animal rescue and humane education in college and through her non profit organization Shelter Me and I suppose this title will help her organization gain recognition andhelp her to make an even bigger difference. Ezra just thinks it's great that Aunt Sara is a real princess now.

My dad sent the following email around to family members about the beauty gene in our family... it gave me a chuckle...

Dear Cousins,

When one shoots at a target, and if one is good, the bullet strikes on the paper are close together. But nearly always, if enough shots are fired, there is bullet strike that removed from the main group. These aberrational shots are called fliers, for one reason or another, known only to god, they are off target. Coming from a family that on the one side included Julie Newmar and uncle Bob, whose 20 foot high portrait in a Marine Corps recruiting poster graced Grand Central Station, and on the other side included my beautiful Aunt Delores, and her wonderfully, bilaterally, symmetrical siblings, I have always considered myself a flier, aesthetically at least, and was worried that my appearance on the scene foreshadowed a decline in the aesthetic qualities of our genome. Not to worry, your relative and mine, Sara Carlisle is the new Miss Boston, as our genome continues into the next century as beautiful as ever. Except there will be a flier now and then.

Steve

P.S My dad is actually quite cute.

My First Born

2011-02-21T18:45:00.000-08:00

Henry just turned 9. I am in awe of Henry. His kindness warmth and sensitivity. His creativity and zest for life. I can't believe how lucky I am to have been blessed with him. From the depths of my heart.

For his birthday dinner he requested: sushi, miso soup and dumplings. And cake. He wanted to know all of the kinds of cake that exist. I told him we did not have time for that kind of research but after a few choices he chose the cake I made for Molly's last birthday- Paula Deen's 3 layer coconut cake with my own adaptation- lemon curd. And because it turned out sort of seuss-like, read lopsided/ugly, I covered it with vanilla buttercream and sandwitched lemon curd between the layers. And we had a MAD dance party in our living room with Laurie and Noni and even Papa and dad dancing....

And all weekend he, his bro and his bff noni played peacefully and joyfully. And laurie and I drank coffee and wine and ate lots of food in between.

My humble Doris tribute aka "Lookie here it's a different strumming method"...

2011-02-18T12:51:00.000-08:00

Happy Late Valentines Day!!

So I have been practicing a number of Doris Day songs including "Black Hills of Dakota", apropos because I have been watching the hbo series (from a few years back) Deadwood, a gritty Western taking place in the Black Hills.

Nothing can ever be perfect, you'll have to excuse the noise. And also I have a rocking tic when I play. I don't know how to get rid of either of those things...But I wanted to share my progress. I still want to look at the notes constantly. But that's ok since my usual audience is two boys who are sword fighting during my concerts (except for when Ezra makes requests (Rufus Wainright's version of Halleluja and Long Black Veil)

Sinead sings an amazing cover of this but I can't find it on youtube with just her singing...

Art Costa's Habits of mind...

2011-02-14T13:49:00.000-08:00

Persisting – Do stick to it.
Communicating with clarity and precision – Be clear.
Managing impulsivity – Take your time.
Gathering data through all senses – Use your natural pathways.
Listening with understanding and empathy – Understand others.
Creating, imagining, innovating – Try a different way.
Thinking flexibly – Look at it another way.
Responding with wonderment and awe – have fun figuring it out.
Thinking about your thinking (metacognition) – Know your knowing.
Taking responsible risks – Venture out.
Striving for accuracy and precision – Find the best possible solution.
Finding humour – Laugh a little.
Questioning and problem posing – How do you know.
Thinking interdependently – Learning with others.
Applying past knowledge to new situations – Use what you learn.
Remaining open to continuous learning – Learn from experiences.
Image from The Way Things Work, David Macauley,1988

Ernst Heackel

2011-02-02T14:34:00.000-08:00

I recently discovered Ernst Heackel's amazing scientific drawings. I

have long been a fan of botanical/scientific drawings but hadn't heard of Heackel. Now I have to get my hands on his book, Art Forms in Nature. Yikes. All of the above images are from that book, I believe. I ran into his name while working on a science lesson plan for one of my classes. He is the author of the term," Ontogeny Recapitulates Phylogeny. Which informed much of our beliefs about evolution but not in the literal sense that he intended it. Basically it's modern iteration is that many developments take place during ontogeny (a species' development) that repeat or parallel it's species evolutionary development

( phylogeny). Okay I am no scientist. That is my wild stab at understanding this... Anyway, his artwork is gorgeous.

oh and this too...

2011-01-30T13:47:00.000-08:00

From Apartment Therapy... Check out this loft house tour..

There is something about this space that makes me so happy. The mix of old and new. The fact that it is not so perfect and stylish at every glance (I am thinking of the sofas and chairs). It is so beautiful and lived in and real. I love seeing a home that has clearly made use of what they had and what they could find than felt the pressure to make everything perfect in a designy kind of way.
I lerve the HUGE kitchen sink! And the SPACE! If I had to live in a city I could handle this...

granola bars

2011-01-30T13:33:00.000-08:00

Lately I have been getting into the habit of spending a larger portion of my weekends baking or preparing nytimes no knead dough for baking. For the last two weekends I try to get most of my reading for the week done by early afternoons Sunday and spend the rest of the day being domestic. Last week it was all about baking biscuits, poaching chicken, preparing bread dough, and making a labor intensive beef stew. This weekend I made the granola bars my friend and neighbor has been making and enjoying. She got the recipe from smitten kitchen (a fabulous cooking blog).
Her thick chewy granola bars are amazing. The recipe is so flexible, which means you can probably make them right now.

This is the perfect thing to have around two growing boys who are always hungry and for whom the "grab a piece of fruit" answer only works so many times.

Here is the recipe... Though it is hard to read os you should probably go straight to Smitten kitchen...

1 2/3 cups quick rolled oats (if gluten-free, be sure to use gluten-free oats)
1/2 to 3/4 cup granulated sugar (use more for a sweetness akin to most purchased bars; use less for a mildly sweet bar)
1/3 cup oat flour (or 1/3 cup oats, processed till finely ground in a food processor or blender)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 to 3 cups dried fruits and nuts (total of 10 to 15 ounces)*
1/3 cup peanut butter or another nut butter (I used almond butter) (optional)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (optional, namely because I was not convinced that the flavor came through)
6 tablespoons melted butter
1/4 cup honey, maple syrup or corn syrup
2 tablespoons light corn syrup (see Note above)
1 tablespoon water
Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line an 8″ x 8″ x 2″ pan in one direction with parchment paper, allowing it to go up the opposing sides. Lightly grease the parchment paper and the exposed pan, or coat with a non-stick spray.
Stir together all the dry ingredients, including the fruit and nuts. In a separate bowl, whisk together the vanilla, melted butter or oil, liquid sweeteners and water. Toss the wet ingredients with the dry (and peanut butter, if you’re using it) until the mixture is evenly crumbly. Spread in the prepared pan, pressing them in firmly to ensure they are molded to the shape of the pan. (A piece of plastic wrap can help with this, as you press down on the back of it.)
Bake the bars for 30 to 40 minutes, until they’re brown around the edges — don’t be afraid to get a little color on the tops too. They’ll still seem soft and almost underbaked when you press into the center of the pan but do not worry, they’ll set completely once completely cool.
Cool the bars in their pan completely on a cooling rack. (Alternately, after about 20 minutes you can use your parchment “sling” to lift and remove the bars, and place them in their paper on the rack to cool the rest of the way. This can speed the process up.)
Once cool, a serrated knife (or bench knife) to cut the bars into squares. [Updating to note, as many had crumbling issues:] If bars seem crumbly, chill the pan of them further in the fridge for 30 minutes which will fully set the “glue”, then cut them cold. To store, wrap the bars individually in plastic or stack them in an airtight container. In humid weather, it’s best to store bars in the refrigerator. They also freeze well.

A few notes...I used peanut butter and butter. I had just run out of honey so I used a combo of molasses, agave syrup and granulated sugar (all in all , less sweetener than she used)
I used walnuts, dark and light raisins, unsweetened coconut and a small handful of dark chocolate chips.
I added a bit of wheat germ. I barely measured anything, mostly eyeballing it all and they turned out wonderfully. Delicious and holding together very well.

Some girlfriends and I hung out last night. we nibbled on appetizers, slurped soup from freshside, drank vino and played the old 1970s board game CAREERS. By the end, I had gone on and expedition to the moon, found uranium, acted in Hollywood, spent a year at sea and been elected to the Supreme Court. And I still lost. But it was fun.

a little boy's desk

2011-01-27T11:46:00.000-08:00

I feel like I may have posted something about his desk when we first go it, but I was struck today by how sweet and colorful his desk looked today (after I dusted all of the eraser bits and pencil shavings off of it..).

Henry's latest lap top creation..

A collection of knick knacks

A Poem About Snow

2011-01-23T07:15:00.000-08:00

The Snowfall Is So Silent
by Miguel de Unamuno translated by Robert Bly

The snowfall is so silent, so slow, bit by bit, with delicacy it settles down on the earth and covers over the fields. The silent snow comes down white and weightless; snowfall makes no noise, falls as forgetting falls, flake after flake. It covers the fields gently while frost attacks them with its sudden flashes of white; covers everything with its pure and silent covering; not one thing on the ground anywhere escapes it. And wherever it falls it stays, content and gay, for snow does not slip off as rain does, but it stays and sinks in. The flakes are skyflowers, pale lilies from the clouds, that wither on earth. They come down blossoming but then so quickly they are gone; they bloom only on the peak, above the mountains, and make the earth feel heavier when they die inside. Snow, delicate snow, that falls with such lightness on the head, on the feelings, come and cover over the sadness that lies always in my reason.

stuff to be pleased with...

2011-01-21T12:36:00.000-08:00

This etsy shop was practically designed for me, being such an unabashed Janeite.

Imagine a soft GRAY scarf (I am obsessed with gray lately) adorned with Mr. Darcy's proposal to Jane.

The above is ridiculous. And sounds delicious. It is cereal milk ice cream. It reminds me a bit of my beloved Mukki Cereali which I was addicted to when I studied abroad in Florence. In the Spring, when my Brioche top has abated and I can validate cooking with heavy cream and cornflakes, this will be made.

In the meantime, my mind is on B.F Skinner and Behaviorism.

Which is fascinating and not completely believable to me yet, sorry Dr. T., Free Will has been ingrained in my psyche for a while now.

And whether I should get a nook or a kindle for a class concerning technology and education.

This article and the debate and hulabaloo Amy Chua's book has stirred is quite interesting...

Have a great weekend folks, it is almost time for my friday glass ov vino! Cocktail hour! Woohoo!

Thank You

2011-01-16T16:01:00.000-08:00

So much

Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase. - Martin Luther King, Jr.

Madame Bovary

2011-01-16T15:02:00.000-08:00

I finished Amy and Isabelle by Elizabeth Strout. Wonderful. Heart rending. Beautiful writing. In the novel, Madame Bovary by Gustav Flaubert is mentioned. I have yet to read it and it has literally been at the top of my "to read" list. Maggie B (thanks for the book idea Maggie!) and I are going to start reading it soon. If any of you dear readers care to join us please do. We could talk about it via email or blog or something. Lydia Davis' recently translated version is supposed to be a masterpiece..."[Davis] has a finer ear for the natural cadences of English, in narrative and dialogue, than any of her predecessors, and there are many moments in her Madame Bovary when one pauses to admire how clean and spare a sentence seems by comparison with its earlier translated versions. . . . Only a very good writer indeed could have written it. . . . The bones of the original French show clearly through her English, and the rawness of her translation is, on the whole, invigorating."
-Jonathan Raban, The New York Review of Books

maiden voyage of the new ice cream maker...and another attempt at a melancholy song

2011-01-14T12:49:00.000-08:00

1 cup whole milk

3/4 cup granulated sugar

2 cups heavy cream, well chilled

1-2 tsp peppermint extract

dark chocolate, chopped

As I poured the above (except for chocolate) ingredients (after they were blended and the sugar was dissolved) into my spanking new ice cream maker (my thighs thank you mom and dad), I was thinking- my kids don't even have to know I made this, they are at school right now. This was thought with my mouth full of chocolate. Then I realized how ridiculous I was being. I can save them a little of it. Sheesh.

I plan to make grapefruit sorbet. I promise. But the cookies are gone and well, I have all this high fat dairy in my frigo.

Below is For Maggie and Aunt Denise- Because you requested another song. I haven't gotten much better. Too busy reading and stuffing my face. Also, I am sick of my repertoire. I found the chords for this song today, which partially explains that mistake towards the end. It makes me think of those desperately sad commercials for aspca. I need to improve my strumming. But it is so hard.

Logic out the Window or Molasses Chocolate Chip Cookies

2011-01-13T12:03:00.000-08:00

Some people approach the holidays with caution, telling themselves that they are going to limit the number of sweets they eat, keep active, fill up on salads and water before every meal. Some day, I may treat holidays like this but I am not ready for that yet. I generally do the opposite. Weeks before the holidays I start dreaming of the number of cocktails and glasses of wine I will consume. I revel in the anticipation of eating cutouts decked out in frosting, thick molassesy slabs of sponge candy drenched in fine chocolate, gooey wedges of my neighbors boozy rum-soaked cake, sticky sweet pecan pie and coffee with cream. And I plan on sitting and reading. Drinking vino, eating and sitting. Because before the holidays comes stress of being in grad school, of teaching, of having two active boys and living in a sardine can and general life stress. So it is my gift to myself, to let go. And it is why now my middle feels like a tub of jello. Also my gym closed but that is another story.

So yesterday I baked cookies.

Because moms bake on snow days. That is one of my rules. It just is. Sorry. FYI, they also go out in their own snow pants for about an hour, if they want to. And maybe they watch part of a BBC adaptation and knit.

THE COOKIES from Joy the Baker. She is hilarious. Read her blog. It cracks me up.

Curt made these over the break but his were even better than mine. And mine were really good. He doesn't know just what he did differently but he adapted it a bit. Which frustrates me and also is a relief. For my waistline.

My children played outside nearly ALL DAY. The rule is they have to come in once it is dark. They still have all of their fingers and toes. But their cheeks were numb for a bit.

Ez is still mucho cheek so his face wasn't working well for a bit.

H. looked like a Yeti.

I want to go to here.

2011-01-10T10:11:00.000-08:00

My dream couch is a deep teal velvety number like this. from Poppytalk...

Simon Upton for Elle Decor via Poppytalk

and with the golden side table and yellow pillows? I am in love.

cowl-love

2011-01-09T12:56:00.000-08:00

One of my goals, yeah right, over break was to knit a cowl. I bought some beautifully variegated emerald green yarn and knit what is more like a snood. It is soft and pretty but it is not at all what I originally wanted to knit. I did it rather quickly. Below is what I originally wanted and still want. But now I can't really validate buying more expensive yarn and school is about to begin. So the end of my wealth of extra time is nigh. Whine whine.

Below is the exquisite Herringbone Cowl at purl bee which I discovered on Poppy talk, fast becoming one of my favorite blogs, which means not so much since I heart a dozen blogs...oh well.

I think one of the things I need to work on is being patient and focusing on achieving what I really want without taking shortcuts because I inevitably regret them.

I am starting a new book. That is something I have time for. And it is not Winter's Bone, I can't handle that much melancholy right now. I am reading Amy and Isabelle- Elizabeth Strout. Which I certainly hope is less melancholy. I will let you know. Maggie B. loved it and she has wonderful taste in literature. And Elizabeth Strout wrote the Pulitzer winning Olive Kitteredge, which I loved.

Can you tell I am feeling blue? Lately that has been my default emotion. But to cheer me up, and you too should you need it.... Masterpiece Theatre has a brand new miniseries premiering this very evening!!!! Downtown Abbey

It has gotten some good reviews and should be very helpful to me on the next few cold Sunday evenings. Oh and just in case you don't have television, this is something you can watch online on the Masterpiece website, how utterly convenient (said with a British accent of course).

A Memory of Rose, who passed away three years ago.

2011-01-07T19:27:00.000-08:00

Rose and I decided to be in a talent show together. Most likely she talked me into it. We always sang together, so of course we chose to sing a song. She sang the low notes I sang the high. I had such stage fright. She held my hands and we faced each other and sang the song below. And now whenever I hear it, I smile a bit and I cry a bit, thinking of her and her strong hands and her beautiful belt-it-out voice. The way she did so many things with such force and passion inspired me then and it continues to inspire me now. I love you, Rosie. Thank you.

Under African Skies

Joseph's face was black as night
The pale yellow moon shone in his eyes
His path was marked
By the stars in the southern hemisphere
And he walked his days
Under african skies
This is the story of how we begin to remember
This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein
After the dream of falling and calling your name out
These are the roots of rhythm
And the roots of rhythm remain

In early memory
Mission music
Was ringing 'round my nursery door
I said take this child, lord
From tucson arizona
Give her the wings to fly through harmony
And she won't bother you no more

This is the story of how we begin to remember
This is the powerful pulsing of love in the vein
After the dream of falling and calling your name out
These are the roots of rhythm
And the roots of rhythm remain

Joseph's face was black as night
And the pale yellow moon shone in his eyes
His path was marked
By the stars in the southern hemisphere
And he walked the length of his days
Under african skies

Oh yeah and I read a bit...

2011-01-02T19:53:00.000-08:00

The Hunger Games Trilogy was my holiday, Apocolyptic, non-stop sci-fi, page turning indulgence.

This cookbook is turning into exactly what I needed to resuscitate my cooking blahs.

This has some fun crewel patterns in it, perfect for winter crafting.

This is one of my favorite novels and I haven't reread it in a few years...

This is my next read...

The New Year- Look, Listen, taste, sit.

2011-01-02T19:24:00.000-08:00

Inspiration for a NEW FABULOUS YEAR. If you say it like you mean it, you might end up believing it.

These chickens make me OH SO HAPPY. From United Thread.

And this new single from Adele is a winner. New album is coming out soon ish?

Let's eat some of this...

And lets sit in a soft velvety jewel-toned chair like this ...I must say I love the chair but wouldn't necessarily choose everything else in the photo...

Happy New Year! May your food be delicious, may you see beauty, may you sit in comfortable chairs. May you hear lovely music.

I don't do that second thingy.. but the first? Ahem, yeah

2010-12-18T15:35:00.000-08:00

And I have the original in my house. And I am not one of those people to let popularity get in my way of enjoying something. I still like it. But this makes me smile even more.

from apt. therapy...

happiness is a warm.... velour quilt

2010-12-14T11:50:00.000-08:00

unfortunately you can't see it all... but you can imagine it...

This throw from Anna Maria Horner, would make me so happy. It is VELOUR. And colorful. And there is a heart right in the center. I love Anna Maria Horner. I think if we knew each other we would be good friends. She has a free pattern for it available. So if you have you know a ton of time and a hundred bucks for some shmancy cotton velour, go ahead and make it for me. Don't worry, maybe I will make it for myself in a year, when I have a job. In the meantime, I will dream about cozying up under it.
P.S I am handing in a huge paper today, doing a presentation and by next Tuesday will be done with both work and my very last paper of the semester... Phew.

How do I Feel about this?

2010-11-20T17:52:00.000-08:00

Jealous.

A bit excited.

Relieved that Jane is not being depicted by Angelina Jolie which is what Matt jokingly told me, which elicited some screams, yes, screams. Though in defense of myself I had had a couple of glasses of wine.

I love the Brontes. And I will probably never fully get over the fact that I will never star in an adaptation of one of their novels.

Mia Wasikowska was wonderful in In Treatment with Gabriel Byrne, sigh, and I heard that she was great in Alice in W. So perhaps she will do Jane justice. We shall see.

My favorite is Masterpiece Theatre's 2006 adaptation directed by Susannah White and starring sultry Toby Stevens, again sigh, and Ruth Wilson, closely followed by Franco Zefferelli's adaptation created 10 years earlier starring Charlotte Gainsbourg, who I have a fondness for. But who doesn't love Orson Welles and Joan Fontaine?

Comprehensive guide to Jane Eyre adaptations.

Counting the Days...

2010-11-20T11:20:00.000-08:00

snapping out of it

2010-11-16T06:05:00.000-08:00

I feel a little dirty putting a video of Neil Young on my blog immediately after little old me tries to sing one of his songs with my newbie uke fingers, but I have a feeling he wouldn't give a S$%^t.

Matt is the reason I ever listened to Neil Young, thanks Matt. And this is one of my favorite songs. And it usually elicits moist eyes, if not a complete geyser. Just call me Old Faithful

It really stinks to have so much work to do and no time to wallow.

I found today that the song below, after letting me wallow for a time in my own quagmire of blech, also forced me to snap out of it and get stuff done. Something about hearing the word Helpless over and over again makes you feel like NOT being helpless.

And by the way does it get any COOLER than Neil and Bruce?

harvest moon- neil young, and other things...

2010-11-15T19:12:00.000-08:00

Today, I picked Ez up from school, drove to the doctor, paid for parking (with his money I only had pennies in my wallet). All this only to find out that the appt. I made last week (which took a half hour with a brand new receptionist) is for next Monday. He can't go to school on Friday if I can't get him an appt. soon, because he needs an mmr. The last vaccine he got swelled his arm up to the size of a tree trunk. So this is not something I even want to do. I have a ton of work to do, a four hour licensing exam on Saturday. I am always tired.

Sometimes I wonder why life can't be easier and then I remember that it is. My sister is here. If I was going through all this stuff right now without her, life would be harder.

So I take a deep breath. And play ukelele. And eat some chocolate. And scratch my chin. And write papers. And teach preschool. And go to therapy. And read research. And do assessments. And read really important books that most people should read but probably don't like All God's Children- The Boskett Family and the American Tradition of Violence by Fox Butterfield. And go to zumba. And do all the things that moms do, because I am a mom.

A little ditty, with a couple very important interruptions but no cursing.

My next step is to learn how to add harmonies to my little videos.

Aragorn, costume design courtesy of Deborah Carlisle

2010-10-30T12:22:00.000-07:00

I have a handsome, faux leather clad, deliriously happy 8 year old.

Should I go red?

2010-10-30T12:12:00.000-07:00

from the Sartorialist

Start the week off ight

2010-10-24T18:16:00.000-07:00

I loved this article by Penelope Trunk about Perfectionism, you should read it. Apparently my little Ez is a bit of a perfectionist at school and it is causing some issues. His teacher says he is super smart and capable but wants to do things perfectly the first time and if he thinks he can't, he ends up in the quiet reading corner for quite awhile (once over 45 minutes), feeling very upset. So I have been thinking a lot about perfectionism and how to help Ez realize it's okay to make mistakes, which honestly I don't understand how he doesn't get that having a disorganized, slightly sloppy, wack job for me as a mom. Or maybe he is rebelling against just that, but I think he is too young for that kind of behavior. And then there is his wonderful dad who is a total perfectionist and just today after taking the worst pie he has ever made out of the oven (which of course is leagues better than my worst ever pie that a dog would likely retch at after smelling), and declaring what a bad pie it was and how disappointed that he was and on and on and on....And he was quite angry and I was hoping he would stop and lighten up and he never did. By this illustration, I am not saying it is Matt's fault that Ez is a perfectionist, and certainly the world is a better place with a few people like that out there but I think life is harder for perfectionists and so...

So lately I have been using a lot of meta cognitive strategies, talking aloud while I do something if I am struggling. Saying things like, "Hey, this is hard but I know that even though I don't have it right this time, the more I try I will get better." And "Gee, Whiz, this new uke tune is tricky, my fingers can barely get this chord and it sounds like noise, but eventually I will get better at it". And the slightly more obvious, " Ezzie, did you know that if you don't make mistakes you can't learn?" To which he nods.

she ain't no rockstar

2010-10-19T11:19:00.001-07:00

I am having a lot of fun with my ukulele. And I decided that if I waited until I was any good I might not get to share for a really long time. My uke and I have a lot of fun together. It has inspired me to listen to more Neil Young and Bob Dylan. So here I am in all of my imperfectness. This is what I am doing when my papers are written, instead of the dishes and instead of wallowing/or pulling my hair out.

I need a milkshake

2010-10-01T10:09:00.000-07:00

I hope Molly and dad don't mind but I wanted to share a detail from their last email about their trip out West. It's about a milkshake.

Molly - ...the viscous sludge, manhandled into dimpled styrofoam cups by an obese woman who set about the business with such grim determination that I knew we were in for it…

Dad- Sometimes a negative can be as significant as a positive. The Marianas Trench in it’s way is as impressive as the Himalayas. The malts referred to above were created in a small town of less than 500 in Eastern Wyoming on US 20 by three earnest and immense women. The malt shop had been in operation for about 6 months and in that time they had not developed the foggiest notion of how to make a malted milk shake. The mixing wand for the milkshake was in a closed 2’ by 2’ box with a plexiglass door, the like of which I have never seen. The strongest of the three placed the milk shake cup in the shake making box so that the mixing wand was immersed in the liquid. She closed the door and then wrapped her blacksmith arms around the entire contraption. In wrestling parlance she had placed it in a bear hug, and as the machine spun the mixing wand, the woman shook the entire machine as if it was a vending machine that took money but refused to dispense. The malt she produced by these machinations was biblical in its badness. It was malted milkshake hell. If the best malt shop can be equated to the Taj Mahal or the Alhambra, this one could certainly be equated to the reactor at Chernoble, and is no less noteworthy. Take my advice, avoid milkshakes in Eastern Wyoming like the plague.

the wisdom of honest abe

2010-09-27T11:06:00.000-07:00

We can complain because rose bushes have thorns

or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.

- Abe Lincoln

I have a professor who ends every class with a quote, and although part of me wants to think it is silly, I really enjoy them. I enjoy them and they always pertain to what we are discussing in class. In Special Education, professionals easily fall into the trap of constantly focusing on what is wrong with a child, what they are not doing, what they need to do better, what they can't do. The other day in class, we discussed yet again, how we can't lose focus on what the child can do, however small it is. This seems to be a theme in my life right now. I am dealing with some kids with real behavior issues in my classroom and my life in general is topsy turvy right now, and that is putting it positively.

So, I am trying to remember and focus on what in my life is really good right now. Like the fact that Ez cannot get enough of "reading". That both, BOTH of my boys are really good at soccer, and they love it. That I think I can make it through another year of grad school. I had breakfast with a girlfriend the other day and it was so much fun. I am learning to play an instrument. Right now there is chili in the crock pot and my class for tonight was cancelled. Those are all roses. And I have bunches more.

notes from an adventurer...

2010-09-23T12:20:00.000-07:00

I must admit that I am a bit jealous that Molly and dad are now on their second adventure together. The last one, a couple years ago, lasted a month, maybe longer. They drove across the country together, hiking and camping along the way. My one consolation is that my dad sends us emails every few days illustrating the trip. My dad writes much like he talks and it is such fun to read his letters. He has the Carlisle tendency towards hyperbole...which can be entertaining. And of course he is a soil scientist so he can't help but talk about the landscape in very particular terms.

Here are a few excerpts...

The next day got us into Nebraska and I80 was beginning to get wearisome so Molly discovered a road on the Atlas that cut catacorner in the general direction that we needed to go, Nebraska Rt. 2. Up to this time we noted that the foliage colors up to well west of Cleveland were pretty much the same as back home. The pastoral landscapes were not that different compared with what you might find in New York. The land was rolling with a bit of flatness here and there, pretty much like upstate. The only thing of real interest really was an occasional outburst from Molly when she was behind the wheel Her knowledge of expletives is fairly rich, and she makes excellent use of inflection to add diversity.

That second day ended at a little town at the edge of the Nebraska Sand Hills called Broken Bow where we found an excellent hotel and a great meal at rural Nebraska prices. The Sand Hill region is one of the great grassland regions of the world. The hills themselves are stabilized sand dunes from a bygone geologic era, and provide great scenery. In the Sand Hills you begin seeing pronghorn antelope (cattle of course).

On the third day we drove out of the Sandhll region and then through a bit of pivot arm irrigation agriculture (makes the big circles that you can see from planes), and then through splendid canyon vistas, finally arriving at Cody, Wy, the gateway to Yellowstone Park.

On the fourth day we mosied into Yellowstone, couldn't hurry because there is a lot to see in getting there. Saw a Buffalo grazing under a bridge before we even got to the park. Yellowstone is pretty other worldly. Maybe a hundred thousand volcanic vents, guysers, pools, etc. Lots of Buffalo, you soon learn that a Buffalo sighting does not get you many CUS credits (creatures of unusual size). Lots of mountains, great streams and waterfalls, and bunches of tourists, and this was the off season. We camped that night and it was cold. We observed all of the precautions against bears and red squirrels because half a hundred people this year didn't and payed the penalty, either being mauled, eaten and then killed by the bears or having their faces gnawed off by squirrels as they were trapped in their sleeping bags. I dodged a bullet that night in the tent, secure in my 20 year old sleeping bag. Molly was secure in the back of the truck with a 16 ounce canister of bear spray. Unbeknownst to me in the pocket of my sleeping bag was a large handful of salted peanuts. A stick of pepperoni would be worse.

On the fifth day we continued through Yellowstone and then drove through the Grand Teton National Park to Jackson Hole.

Which brings to today, where I am writing this from our motel room.

The journey continues.

PS We saw one moose from a quarter mile away, so I digicammed it, a bit fuzzy but our only moose.

Steve

life long learner

2010-09-22T13:36:00.000-07:00

At 33, I am learning salsa, merengue and Bachata (in my zumba class),weight training, finally. And, I am teaching myself to play the ukelele. I love it. I am practicing a bunch of songs now. Songs by Tom Waits, Bob Dylan, Leslie Gore, The mamas and the papas, Dusty Springfield and Lefty Frizzel, Dolly Parton, the bangles ( I am a jill of all trades here) and more. I can barely feel the tips of three fingers on my left hand. I can't play that well yet but when I can , in a year or so. I will post a song here.

I like playing the uke for many reasons but most of all I like playing it because it means I get to sing, to music. ANd I have a good friend and neighbor who plays and sings with me.

Lump Sum

2010-09-19T09:18:00.001-07:00

I have long loved this song and only recently discovered the acoustic version. And then had to look up the lyrics. Which are of course beautiful.

Lump Sum- Bon Iver

Sold my cold knot, a heavy stone

Sold my red horse for a venture home

to vanish on the bow

Settling slow

Fit it all, fit it in the doldrums

So the story goes

Color the era

Film it, it's historical, my

My mile could not

Pump the plumb

In my arbor till my ardor trumped

Every inertia lump sum

All at once

Rushing from the sub pump

So the story goes

Balance we won't know

we will see when it gets warm

I did not sob today

2010-09-07T11:38:00.001-07:00

How could I, with that grin on my little boy's face? And notice that the first thing Ez does is try to figure out how the windows work on the bus...

stressball

2010-09-02T17:39:00.000-07:00

Keewaydin Summer Cottage, Brooklin, Acadia, Maine

I am living in the now, really. I promise. But I have what I think is poison ivy again and I am starting to think that grad. school+ work+2 kids+life is a lot right now. Yikes. I know in a few weeks I will calm down and feel like I am handling it but why can't I have two more weeks of cocktails and fiction reading?

My mom sent this to me today. Which made me...

1. Excited for next summer family time and

2. realize that I need to chill out and enjoy right now. I can't spend all year waiting to lounge in a beautiful cottage in Acadia with my family next summer. Yes, life can be stressful but I have already proven to myself that I can do it. It' s just extra hard when your soon to be kindergartner is acting crazy and worried about school and yoru new third grader comes home the first day crying that he likes his old school better and all of his Best friends are in another class.

And I already have school work to do.

Henry's first day back and Wildwood School FIrst Day Parade

2010-09-02T08:43:00.000-07:00

They wanted to match.

Slightly nervous last minute snuggles

Watching and listening for the big yellow bus.

We wave until we can't see each other anymore, a tradition started in kindergarten.

Ez and I check out the gym.

First Day of School Parade!!! A MArks Meadow tradition becomes a Wildwood tradition.

Go!

GO WILD!

GO WILDWOOD!

Henry's First day started off without a hitch.

He has another beautiful teacher whose name I can barely pronounce or spell.

Ezzie and Matty and I had a successful orientation at his new school.

Fall is falling into place.

And I am sure that the rash I have is not poison ivy. It can't be. Really.

F I V E

2010-08-31T08:51:00.000-07:00

THE LION HEART CASTLE IS A HIT!

Some facts about Ez.

He weighed 9 pounds 3 oz. at birth. I ate A LOT of peach pie (and healthy stuff like kale) when he was in the womb and the doctors swore that I was perfectly healthy but I felt like Moby Dick and stopped looking at the scale when it reached 160.

He and Amy have matching freckles on their lefty left hands.

He could live on bananas, oatmeal, yogurt, pb and h, and tomatoes.

He is a very determined boy and could tie his shoes at 4.5 and ride a two wheeler at age 3.

He loves to sing.

He especially loves hip hop. Ahem, Kanye, Alicia Keys...

He is particular about who he keeps company with and prefers to hang with kids who are not chatty. He is not the social animal that I am. And I am learning to come to terms with and respect that.

He is very conservative with his hugs (except with me).

He loves to collect bugs especially big black beetles.

He loves to handle fish and other animals. I am trying to teach him to study and hold animals but remember that it might be torture if he is not careful.

His favorite color is green

He likes to wear belts and costumes.

He was not sure about having a party and at the last minute decided he did not want one. I had to explain to him that it was too late to cancel. Again, who is this child?

Ezra can be moody. Sometimes he wakes up grumpy. I don't understand this. I wasn't moody until I had kids. Even as a teenager, I would get sad but I at least pretended to be happy and carefree for everyone else's sakes (which I realize is probably unhealthy).

Ez is not a people person. I was introverted for a period of time in my life. I still crave alone time and don't mind being by myself but I am a social being. I love connecting with folks, adults and kids alike. It has taken me awhile to realize that my kids are their own little people. Ez is very different from me and it would be unfair to expect him to be like anyone else. It is okay that he is not always into talking to people, hugging people, being sociable. I just have to help him use manners, use words, it is a challenge.

Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you." -Kahlil Gibran

Rose loved Sweet Honey in the Rock and put this song on a cd for Henry when he was 3. Thanks Rosie!

The Office nook

2010-08-30T16:16:00.000-07:00

One of my goals this summer was to carve out a homework space for H. So, after moving their bedroom around 3, yes 3 times. This is it. He has a little desk nook.
Thanks to IKEA, Target and some repurposing, it hardly cost anything. And he feels really good about it. Of course, Ez had to get in on the action, though I hope he doesn't have any homework in kdg. Both boys picked out a plant or two. I gave each of them a little glazed pot to put tools in. They each got a new ruler, and some fresh pencils. Hen picked out a little lamp and Ez is using the old one.

Yesterday ( a few days before he officially turns 5) we had a birthday bash for Ez.

Pinata.

Vanilla cake with Penuche frosting.

Friends and their families.

Playground.

Pizza.

Sweaty candy necklaces.

bridges

2010-08-25T19:41:00.001-07:00

Ez is going to kindergarten in a few days. I am having a bit of a hard time dealing with it. For so many reasons. He is my baby. My last child. His cheeks are still soft and squishy. He frustrates me to no end and I lose my temper with him but we still get to have those gooey moments when he wants to be as close as he can. He says I smell so good. He touches my hair. He kisses my forehead.

This adoration goes away eventually. And they get so busy. And skinny. And they don't need these tender moments quite so much.

So when I read Anna Maria Horner's post about her daughter going away to school I seriously bawled.

i love this poster

2010-08-24T12:05:00.000-07:00

from apartment therapy...

I especially appreciate the "keep it wonky" sentiment, I am good at that. Just a reminder of what you/we are about. I do have the *Keep Calm and Carry on Poster* that went viral a year or so back, but I can't seem to look at it when it matters.

the talk

2010-08-24T09:37:00.000-07:00

Before I had kids I knew, as all non-parent people "know" certain things about child-rearing ha ha ha, that I wanted to be able to have frank discussions with my children about sex. I wanted them to feel comfortable approaching me with questions and concerns. I wanted them to not have sex until they were 40, but sure, I wanted them to be able to talk to matt and I about it. The other day I asked an older friend when she first spoke to her kids about sex and she said she spoke to them about it all along whatever that means?). I thought "Oh shit, I have some catching up to do."

I am scared, by the way, terrified really.

So the other day in the car, it came up. See, until recently, when my kids asked me about religion I answered them in a certain style, by asking them questions back and telling them that different people have different opinions about these things. And when they asked about birth I used a similar spiritual style with the addition of a few basic biological facts. So, Henry came up with some of his own ideas, and being the older brother to Ezra, Ez adopted these ideas as well. So they believe that you are a star in the sky before you are born. You look down and pick out your parents. Then when you die you become a star again. I was apparently picked because I am "beautiful and have long hair", they did not know that I have a temper and can be neurotic or they might have chosen someone else.

But the other day in the car, they wanted to know how a baby actually gets in the mom's belly. Oy Vay. So I breathed deeply. I told them all about eggs and *gulp* Sperm. I told them the eggs are found in the woman, the man provides the sperm. They wanted MORE INFORMATION!!! Why is this so scary for me? I told them the rest of the information was pretty complicated and I had groceries to unload. Which was true. But I also needed a glass of wine.

This is when living on a farm would be so handy. "You want to know about reproduction, Johnny?, Let's go watch the horses have at it and then we'll watch the filly being born in a few months." Or maybe we should stick with the chickens?

Julia Sweeney did a much better job than I, check it out on TED talks. Thanks to Kim for alerting me to this hilarious podcast!

the talk, scroll down to #31, Julia Sweeney (remember Pat on SNL?)

REAL PICKLES, local business shout out...

2010-08-21T10:59:00.000-07:00

I love pickles, especially fermented pickles. I love fermented veggies in general. At our CSA farm down the road , the fridge in the pick-up barn is packed with local goodies, dressings, popsicles, pork, eggs, milk, etc. I usually don't purchase any because they are all pretty pricey but once in a while I splurge. It's worth it, supporting local business and healthy eating and all. A few weeks ago I bought a jar of fermented, gingered carrots and some truly delicious kombucha (which is saying a lot for me, sometimes I like the stuff but sometimes those cultures taste like fresh vomit). I will save the kombucha gushing for another post. The fermented carrots are delish. I eat them by the spoonful daily (one spoonful from the jar as a snack). And I just ate a bowlful with a generous dousing of sriracha on top. Thanks local business, REAL PICKLES! They support many local organic farms in Massachusetts and New York.

400

2010-08-18T04:56:00.000-07:00

This will be a wiki wiki (quick, in Hawaiian) 400th post.

5 years ago I started reading blogs. My dear friend, Tina pointed a couple blogs of note out to me. It was quite a relief, to be able to read about making things and look at beautiful pictures while nursing a new baby and dealing with serious back pain and a crazy toddler. Then, three years ago Matt started encouraging me to write a blog. Inspired by Tina's blog and the other blogs I read, I decided to go for it. I know maybe 10 people read it, if I am lucky. But really, for me it is a very fulfilling outlet. In many ways it is a (less private) journal of my family.

My sidebar showcases my favorite blogs to read. I still love keeping up with Tina and now I enjoy reading my friend Laura's posts, my newest friend to join the blogging community.

If I hadn't been eating bacon, cookies and pie for the last few days. There would be cake.

In celebration of blogging or as I sometimes like to call it berging. Here is a link to a nifty sandal making tute on CRAFT.

dreaming

2010-08-16T09:45:00.000-07:00

One of the great things about living for so long in such a tiny, poorly made apt. is that the living environment can't get worse. I am pretty sure it would be illegal for us to live in a smaller apt. And it is pretty hard to find a smaller apt. in this neck of the woods anyway. Therefore anywhere we go is up.

Since I passed my test I have allowed myself to dream a bit more. Dreaming in the form of job searching and house hunting. I know how silly it is. We have no money for a down payment and won't for a couple years (and that is assuming we get real-life adult paying jobs next year) and even then, we may have to relocate for Matty's job. Although, if I can make enough and he works part-time to cushion the income from my job, I told him he can become a writer, or something.

The following are just a few homes I have dreamt about. Like I said, anywhere is up. Ideally, the would have more land and be cheaper...

Just down this dirt path is a real life cabin for sale. Can you imagine chickens? A dog? Forts in the woods? And me with a cup of coffee in the morning on the porch? Plus it is nearly 2,000 sq. feet, that is 4 times the size of our apt. and it includes nearly two acres. Also great school district. $224, 000 is almost cheap for around here. Let's be optimistic, okay? Moving on...
This may be sort of jolie/laide (prettyugly)but I have a strange affinity for that gross siding, even though I may want to remove it. This house was built in 1780! Cool, right? It is in the country and right next door to great hiking trails but real close to town. Over 2,000 sq.ft!!! $189,000.
I love a big old, white farmhouse with no bells and whistles.Circa 1813. About an acre. Again, chickens. HUGE. PORCH. GAH.

So, Laura and Mike are you moving here? Ditto for Susan and Mark. Although I am feeling a pang right now for tina and Mark. you guys could move too, ya know...

time for a little bit of braggin'

2010-08-14T15:49:00.000-07:00

I think my new glasses jive with my new nerdiness

I just passed a scary math test.

A couple years ago Massachusetts, in recognition that our country's kids are lagging behind most other countries in their math skills, decided to weed out teachers who can't teach math. They made the Mtel Math subtest much harder. It took me almost 4 hours. Yikes. The result? Most prospective elementary teachers have been failing the test and not getting their licenses (70%). So they passed an emergency resolution stating that if you fail within a certain range you can still get your license as long as you pass the test within 6 months.

I passed it the first time!!!! And I have always struggled with math. If this is all I accomplish this summer, I am a happy girl.

We celebrated with some Antonio's Pizza. Did I say I was happy?

pieces of a summer

2010-08-13T14:49:00.000-07:00

I know summer is not over yet, but the word "school" is scrawled on the bottom of the current page on our calendar. The end of summer is on my mind.

I tend to measure my summers by the following

books read- this summer I have read the last book in The Millenium Trilogy, Evelina, The Count of Monte Cristo, The help and The Passage, I think I am not missing any.

ice cream cones consumed- only two (not enough), both soft-serve, one too watery the other just right.

variety and number of slices of pie eaten- only one. very. sad. indeed. But, thanks Tina, for the apple pie (with apples picked from her tree, and the perfect sour/sweet ratio). This weekend Matty has promised to make me a peach pie, my second favorite.

lobster rolls consumed- 2, both excellent. Not sure if there are enough lobster rolls in the world to satisfy me.

camping trips, quantity and quality- One great camping trip. We had a second one planned but we can't afford more Cape this summer. Especially with my lobster roll habit.

number of BLTs eaten (ok so food is clearly important to me)- zero. zip. You know what I am doing for the rest of this summer, (remedying this serious omission).

ocean visits- 2. Our family loves us some ocean. There could always be more.

weddings- 1. A beautiful, very emotional Quaker wedding. We have been to quite a few Quaker ceremonies. This was the first one that featured two paper airplanes being thrown in the midst of one of the moments of silence. And, alleluiah, it was not one of my kids.

lakes and ponds visited- 4 . Lakes, Owasco, Cayuga and Wyola, and Puffers Pond, for fishing, barbeques, swimming, stone skipping and general happy-making.

trips sans kiddos- 3. NYCx2 and Home. Sigh.

# of s'mores- When I am eating a s'more my brain momentarily loses function so can't remember this factoid. But I am guessing, 4-5, reasonable.

am i missing anything?

c a m p i n g

2010-07-19T05:20:00.000-07:00

Top Ten things to do on a Saturday

2010-07-04T06:08:00.000-07:00

Best thing to do on a Saturday?

Besides reading an email that one of your oldest/ dearest friends Finally had that baby!

is to semi-spontaneously go to the Cape for the day. Which is what we did yesterday.

1. Wake up at 5:30, drive 3.5 hours to meet friends at Campground Beach in Eastham. Frolic, read, munch. Enjoy low and high tides. Send someone out to get homemade doughnuts and iced coffee at Hole -in -one bakery just down the road. Ignore scary voices in head and eat doughnut while wearing a bathing suit.

2. Go to Mac's Seafood in Wellfleet. Eat amazing lobster rolls, lobster bisque, fish n chips, onion rings etc. Hit playground next door. Force kids to use potty. Wipe a bit of sand off of them and head home at 7:30 pm to avoid bridge traffic.

3. 11 pm- Carry filthy kids from car and deposit in bed.

A bit crazy? Yes. Worth it? Absolutely.

on the gym

2010-07-02T04:12:00.001-07:00

I recently said I would never join a gym. I am not a fan for a number of reasons.

But yesterday I visited one. Because I am a Carlisle and we specialize in hyperbole and we also specialize in full thighs.

Some Reasons Gyms are scary...

I am convinced that flesh eating bacteria is everywhere in a gym. I know that many people don't wipe down those mats. I don't relish the idea of dying or having all the layers of section of my skin trimmed off and wearing a special bacteria-sucking vacuum on my person for a year because I was trying to grow bigger biceps or lose my mummy tummy.

I don't even like walking through a gym. I feel like maybe people are staring at me. Maybe because I am cute or Maybe because they think I waited to long to join a gym. Maybe I don't like walking though a gym because I am waiting for Keanu Reeves to chide me for tripping on a perfectly good floor (which really happened the last time I joined a gym).

The Machines. Who designed them? They terrify me. I got on an elliptical machine and had to pause a moment to remind myself explicitly that there were two enormous pieces of heavy plastic and GOd KNows What Else hovering right around either side of my head. Lean one way just a bit and WHAM, I could be down, in front of all of these toned and fake- tanned gym goers.

In college I fell off a treadmill and my walkman hit me in the face. At least my ipod is light weight.

I am trying a gym out for a week mainly because of the Zumba classes it offers. What is Zumba? I don't really know but it seems to be some sort of latin fusion dance. Latin with a tad of afro and hip hop mixed in. It is FUN. The music is awesome. An hour is painful but quick. So much better than trying to run. And no, I have never taken a latin dance class. I pretty much stink at it. But that's the thing with me and dancing. I am no good but I don't care, it's too much fun. I told myself this and then comforted myself with the thought that I would always plant myself at the back of the class. But then the instructor has us turning around constantly and I can't avoid being in the front occasionally. Halfway through the class I realized that most of the attendees can't copy the instructor anyway, so I felt better.

After this class I felt so happy. And bedtime with the kids was much easier for me (I said in an earlier post that they usually fall asleep quickly but Ez can be a nightmare to get ready).

If Robert Louis Stevenson's mom made him go to bed early in the Summer too, well I rest my case.

2010-07-01T11:18:00.000-07:00

Image courtesy of Molly Carlisle

By 8 o'clock on a Summer evening we darken the shades. Turn on a fan. I close the doors, wash up my boys and we read stories. Then it is bed. And once in awhile I can sit on the front porch with my eyes closed and enjoy the silence (coming from my kids at least). The peace. They used to protest. But they fall asleep quickly.

Bed in Summer
by Robert Louis Stevenson

In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer, quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people’s feet
Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?

laughs

2010-06-30T11:21:00.000-07:00

Constantina posted this on her blog and it cracked me up. I needed to be cracked up. Thanks TIna. HAve that baby. NOW.

Molly's Birthday Bash

2010-06-26T09:10:00.000-07:00

Molly, Noah, Nicole, Kim and Jackson joined us for Molly's Birthday Picnic. There were ukeleles, guitars, a huge chop salad, BBQ chicken, grilled flank steak, strawberries, coconut cake, yummy beer and mojitos. There were dirty kids running around, giggles and general merry-making.

Coconut cake courtesy of Kelly by way of Paula Deen, but with Lemon curd and a dusting of coconut in lieu of seven minute frosting

Letha's Magnificent Chicken, Kim's amazing Mojitos

Three skinny and filthy pairs of Legs, THIS is Summer.

For a few years now we have had the pleasure of sharing this crazy life with some fabulous neighbors. Ours is a transient neighborhood but Nigel, Letha and their two little ones have stayed put in the E section, since we moved in. So we have been smelling their perfectly delectable barbecue chicken at least once weekly for nearly 4 years. That is right folks, I don't know if all Jamaicans take their chicken this seriously, but our neighbors do. Sometimes, they hand us a hot, foil package of the mouthwatering stuff. Sometimes we sit miserably in our tiny kitchen nibbling on our meager dinner of rice and beans and Kale. Boo Hoo. But Letha is a generous soul and has taken it upon herself to teach me how to make this barbecue and finally after much practice and for Molly's birthday dinner, I got it right. Henry congratulated me. Ezra ate it up. It suffered no ill comparison to Letha's. In fact, Letha's own son said it tasted just like hers and Letha agreed. I have graduated. The only problem is that there is no measuring. And one of the ingredients is hard to find (browning/burnt sugar anyone?If you spot it perhaps in a West Indies Grocer, get me a bottle, hint City Dweller-Amy). So bare with me. But here is a promise. If you want some of this chicken and I am in your neck of the woods this Summer, I will gladly make some for you. It is that good.

The Chicken. Not even sure if I should attempt to post a recipe. Maybe I will come back later and do that?

Jell-o Mold competition?

2010-06-25T15:42:00.000-07:00

GSS Jell-O Mold Competition
Saturday, June 26 2010 from 6-10pm
166 7th Street
Brooklyn, NY 11215
(Between 2nd and 3rd Avenues)

I will say no more.

at the farm today

2010-06-21T18:09:00.001-07:00

Some of my poppies.

Henry soars.

Yi Yi Loves the farm tire swing.

Ez found some plantain and put it on his freshly skinned knee, no joke.

Curt, the boys and I went to our farm, Simple Gifts CSA, with Yi Yi (Julia), a young girl who will be joining us in the mornings this summer. I am helping her out with English before she starts Kindergarten in the Fall and I get paid a bit for it, but I would probably do it for free. I adore her. Mostly we will be playing but I am trying to incorporate some fun local activities, visits to the farm, the campus duck pond, the swimming hole, the rec. center, libraries etc.

Today was hot but we cooled down at the farm with homemade farm popsicles and a breezy swing.

Cairn Building, Picnic and Quiet Time at Peace Pagoda

2010-06-20T11:39:00.000-07:00

The Peace Pagoda in Leverett is a special spot in Western Ma. I am embarrassed to say when I was last there. Matt has been 3 times just in the past week. It was his wish that we picnic there for Father's Day. It was quite perfect because I had purchased two books on the topic of Buddhism for his special day.

We had sandwiches, water, apples and cookies. We sort of had some quiet time. It was mostly peaceful, except for the boys running across the Japanese meditation garden (we neglected to explain that to them until it was too late) and Ezra upsetting an enormous ant home under a rhododendron bush.

We all built cairns for new cousin Zao Han (boys are pointing to them above). Henry and Ezra want to call them Carens.

famous poem

2010-06-18T05:44:00.001-07:00

photo by Ezra

Yesterday we went to Marks Meadow for the End of the Year/End of Marks Meadow (sort of) Picnic. Food, friends, families, neighbors, yummy desserts, a dunking booth with a good natured principal inside, a parade, singing, a rocket launch. It was Wonderful. The kids all received beautiful yearbooks and tee shirts.

Henry's O.T added a poem under her photo in the yearbook that really resonated.

Famous Poem- Naomi Shihab Nye

The river is famous to the fish.

The loud voice is famous to the silence.

Which knew it would inherit the earth

before anybody said so.

The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds

watching him from the birdhouse.

The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek.

The idea you carry close to your bosom

is famous to your bosom.

The boot is famous to the earth.

More famous than the dress shoe.

Which is famous only to floors.

The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries

it.

And not at all famous to the one who is pictured.

I want to be famous to shuffling men

who smile while crossing streets.

Sticky children in grocery lines.

Famous as the one who smiled back.

I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous.

Or a buttonhole, not because it did anything

spectacular,

But because it never forgot what it could do.

This poem reminds me of what you are drawing, Emily.

Good vibes are being sent to Tina and Mark and Arlo. I can't wait to meet the new babe.

And also to Rana and Jona. We love him already.

h o m e

2010-06-16T05:19:00.000-07:00

Summer thus far, has been a mix of reading fiction, visiting our CSA farm for veggies and for hanging with the pigs and riding the tire swing, visting with friends, soccer soccer soccer (EVERY DAY), grilling, and a little bit of school work for me. Yesterday we went to Puffers Pond for the second time this season. Sometimes I cannot believe that a place so perfect is a bike ride away. Beautiful crystal clear water surrounded by trees. A cozy pond.

The Pioneer valley has lots of spots like this, and mountains. AND so many trees. I love the geography of this place.

I love it here.

There are times when I am torn. I love the Finger Lakes too. AND there are lots of people there who are dear to me.

But really, this place has become our home.

dinner tonight- scallion crepes with dipping sauce and a huuge salad

2010-06-12T13:28:00.000-07:00

Ez and I went to my friend Lissa's yesterday to have lunch and play and it was such fun. Lissa is a fabulous cook, she catered with Martha Stewart in her youth and she once took a class in Paris at the Cordon Bleu. She and I dream of opening up a little stand at the new North Amherst farmer's Market one day. We had a great day, playing in the garden, talking about herbs (I am using a new herb book to teach myself a little bit). I even made her a poutice with some plantain for her poison ivy. For lunch, we had these fabulous scallion crepes with a scrumptious dipping sauce. These are much better than my scallion pancakes. The recipe is here.

We just picked up our first Simple Gifts Farm CSA share today. Garlic scapes, chard, spinach, salad, turnips, bok choy....yum

unfortunately blogger is acting up and I can't seem to download my own photos. I have some great ones from our visit yesterday....

Urban Homesteading

2010-06-12T13:10:00.000-07:00

My oldest friend- we've known each other for about 28 years, wrote this really great article. She regularly writes for NPR in Indianapolis. I love listening to her voice on the radio. Marianne was the one who I shared my first cigar with and danced to Whitney Houston with (at her parents camp in the ADKs) and talked about boys all night long with as a silly tween. And now we are both moms and we both love to talk about crafts and canning and chickens.

Urban homesteading also makes for green in wallet | IndyStar.com | The Indianapolis Star

The Adirondack Chair

2010-06-11T04:37:00.000-07:00

"This photo by Johnathan Esper captures the Adirondack chair in its idyllic natural habitat"

Apartment Therapy has a great little history of the Adirondack chair. Check it out.

I grew up for much of my youth, not so far from the good old Adirondack

Mountains.

And the Adirondack chair, a good one, is comfortable and evokes those clear

mountain lakes, streams and those beautiful mountains and for me, vacation.

vacation means reading

2010-06-10T17:50:00.000-07:00

I have been able to finish three, yes THREE books since vacation began. I finally finished the last book in the Millenium series, The Girl who Kicked the Hornets Nest. Wowzas. I really enjoyed it. One caveat- this book, as with all of the Larsson books, should be read continuously. Don't pick it up if you have anything else to do for a week. I made the mistake of starting it in early Spring before I could give it the attention it deserved. I had finals, papers, and preschool end -of- year shenanigans to deal with. So I would pick it up, read a bit, but not enough to understand what I was dealing with, and then let it go, only to pick it up a week later, search for my spot (because M. and I were reading it simultaneously and he kept losing my spot) and I felt confused longer than I should have. As with the rest of the series, there are lots of characters with those Swedish names that get muddled up a bit in my brain and lots going on. Such intriguing, edge of your seat fun.

After I finished the Larsson book, I picked up Push by Saphire. Precious was based on this book. Wow. I finished it rather quickly, its a little book, but it was super powerful. I don't want to ruin anything for anyone out there but, for me, with this book, Saphire joins the legions of Alice Walker and Toni Morrison. I was crying through much of it. I read most of it at the North Village soccer field while my kids played, sitting on an abandoned royal blue cot, sipping earl grey tea in a mason jar and trying not to bawl. Crazy lady.

Then I picked up Philip Roth's The Human Stain. So beautifully written. One of my favorite bits is the part about Iris's hair on page 129

"Her head of hair was something, a labryinthine, billowing wreath of spirals and ringlets, fuzzy as twine and large enough for use as Christmas ornamentation. All the disquiet of childhood seemed to have passed into the convolutions of her sinuous thicket of hair. Her irreversible hair. You could polish pots with it and no more alter its construction than if it were harvested from the inky depths of the sea, some kind of wiry reef-building organism, a dense living onyx hybrid of coral ad shrub, perhaps possessing medicinal properties."

Sometimes I wake up in the morning after a good all night soaker kind of rain, and my hair is a bit like that. But not quite so much.

I have picked up Frances Burney's, Evalina or The History of a Young Lady's Entrance into the World. But am not sure I am in the mood for an epistolary Victorian piece right now. We shall see...

Happy Birthday Rosie!!

2010-05-31T11:21:00.000-07:00

You would be 34 today. We love you and miss you.

xoxo

Game of Tag

2010-05-20T18:05:00.000-07:00

The Tag game goes as follows:Go to the 8th folder in which you store your photos. Select the 8th photo. Post it to your blog and tell the story behind it. After following the above instructions, you are ‘supposed’ to tag 8 other bloggers.

A few years ago, the boys and I were visiting my folks in the Finger Lakes. Henry was in the mood to indulge his love for Queen. My dad has quite the Queen collection on his ipod. we had a dance party and I thought I would make it educational by explaining the whole Glam Rock thing. We did it up with sequins. I got dressed up too. Then we rocked out to all manner of Queen songs. It was a good time. For some reason, the boys have to put on serious faces when they pose in costume. They do it whether they are knights, pirates, rock stars or superheroes.

No one tagged me for this. I found it on the verypurpleperson site. I thought I would play. If you want to playa along. do it and leave me a comment. I will later link to your site.

voices

2010-05-20T10:28:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, just as I was unwinding and thinking about the Ritter Milk Chocolate Cornflake bar waiting for me after my kids went to bed (I know I am hopeless). I casually opened a business letter from Henry's school. I thought maybe had to do with the big change next year or something else equally benign. Instead it was a letter informing us that Henry was "at risk " and therefore eligible for SUMMER SCHOOL. Then I quietly informed Matt of the letter. Got kids to bed and the many voices that my mind produces in stressful times, took over.

Voice # 1 Well, this came from left field. We just had an IEP mtg. and he was doing well, right on target, no real academic difficulties.

Voice #2 Although his teacher did gently call him the "sweet, absent minded professor" of the class.

Voice#1 Yes, but shouldn't they have mentioned this possibility weeks ago? And where is he at risk? Does he need help with Math? Reading?

Voice#3 Can't we just help him out at home? Maybe I can talk to his teacher about exactly what he needs. We can work it out at home. 3 Weeks of summer school, even if just in the morning, is a lot to ask of an 8 yr. old boy.

Voice#2 Summer school may help him. I mean he is in Special Ed. Are you really that shocked?Lots of I.E.Ps have "extended school year" written into them. Think of it that way.

Voice #1 I blame this on the school District. This place pushes kids way too much. This would never have happened where I went to school. I mean for gods sake. Around here most kids have 6 extracurriculars after school. It's a pre-pubescent rat race.

Voice #3 If you were in a different school district you might blame them for not pushing kids enough. Be honest with yourself.

And then I took a shower and cried.

Voice #3 It is not such a big deal. It could be worse. For crying out loud.

P.S Today after all this, I get this letter from H's teacher-

Hi Kelly,

Henry's name got on the list as a mistake. I spoke to xxxxx to let him know that Henry didn't need summer support. Apparently, the change wasn't made before the letter went out. I apologize for your unnecessary concern. I have no idea how his name got on the list. As a matter of fact, Henry's recent reading assessment indicates that he is readng slightly above grade level! He's made excellent progress this year. I'll check back in with xxxx so you don't get any further notices. Be in touch soon.

XXXXX

Wow

sushi-lo fi

2010-05-16T10:25:00.000-07:00

vegetables and egg

sweet potato and scallion

roll it

I don't know what this thing is called but you roll it with this

sorta cute

Youtube has gobs of videos if you want explicit instructions...

I recently realized I hadn't made sushi in awhile and wondered why the heck not, other than the fact that Ezra limits his intake to one or 2 rolls, and then wants something else. The rest of us will gladly eat it until our bellies are full. One of my favorite rolls to make was the "Buddha" roll, inspired by Noho's Osaka, which has a filling of cuke, sweet potato and honey roasted peanuts. TO DIE FOR. Yesterday I made some simple rolls, avocado, cuke, carrot and scallion. They were so much fun to put together and Henry loved eating them. I also added a little bit of Kimchi-Furekake rice seasoning (a shaker of dried veggies, salmon and sea salt), which Henry loved.

Today I thought I would document my sushi-making. The three boys are on a bike ride adventure so the kitchen is all mine.

The fillings- carrots, cucumber, avocado, thin egg "pancake", roasted sweet potato, red bell pepper, scallions, all sliced very thin and kept as long as possible.

I used two and a half cups of sushi rice and made 7-8 "logs" of sushi...

Of course you need the toasted nori sheets that you can find at your local Asian spmkt (ours is called "Mom's" isn't that sweet?)

We like to dip ours in so sauce, with a bit of wasabi and pickled ginger on top.

I basically mixed and matched the fillings...

Henry later told me that he likes restaurant sushi better. Big surprise there. I do too, partly because I love spicy tuna and crispy scallop and prefer to do vegetarian sushi at home. But this is cheaper and still yummy,

In case you were wondering, I was listening to Rihanna's "Photographs" feat. Will. i. am during the sushi-making. After a long break from that album, I revisited it and am a bit addicted to that song. So I was sort of dancing around while I was rolling the sushi, which I am sure makes it taste better, and makes my neighbors giggle and/or wonder about my sanity.

Han's Coconut Banana Bread Pudding or The Yummiest Way to Eat yourself into Morbid Obesity Oblivion

2010-05-12T19:09:00.000-07:00

A birthday ring I love, from Matty, thanks Laura for pointing him in the right direction...

The picture does not do it justice

My friend Han is from Vietnam and she has quite a life story, although I don't know much of it. What I do know is that she is a fierce cook. And that whole French influence on Vietnamese cooking is evident even in the snacks she brings for her son's preschool. One memorable snack involved tender, flaky and round, apple-shaped pastries (complete with clove "stems") filled with the most delectable homemade applesauce, delicately spiced and thickened with agar agar. Delicious.

For my birthday, Han made me the most scrumptious bread pudding. Perfectly sweet, eggy, soft carb-rich pudding, redolent with coconut milk, coconut shavings and bananas. Han is so meticulous, the bananas could not have been sliced any thiner and she fanned them out on the surface of the pudding beautifully.

I have asked her for the recipe and am hoping to get it but I think I may just have to get a lesson...

FOOD IS LOVE

And then yesterday as I was sitting attempting to read a novel while my boys exercised their soccer obsession, the two Ahmeds, Rasha and my friend and neighbor Ece and I all spoke about food. Not all at once, but over the course of a couple hours. Ahmed and Ahmed and Rasha are kids and they just happen to very frequently be hanging around my stoop. And I love talking to them about what they like to eat, especially since what they eat is so different from what I eat. Although I try to point out similarities it's tricky because I have found that my Palestinian friends pronunciations of Middle Eastern dishes is much closer to the Lebanese pronunciation

(Lebanese cuisine being the source of much of my experience with Middle Eastern food thanks to Matty's family) than my Egyptian friends pronunciations, which makes sense. And then my neighbor Ece, who hails from Turkey was eating a sandwich that looked interesting, so as I was congratulating her for getting into the Bilingual/ Multicultural Ed. program, (I helped her edit her essay, which was very interesting) I asked her about Turkish food. She and her husband are working on a documentary of sorts about Turkish food and memories...Oh, and her sandwich was filled with feta, parsley and walnuts.

I realized for the hundredth time last night, how much I love talking and learning about food. And I thought to myself that I would love to document this. How wonderful it would be to write a book about the families living here and how/what they eat. How would I do it? What would it be like? Interviews, photographs recipes, potlucks, memories, maps... Any ideas?

Post Scrip- This post, after a bit of espresso, has brought to mind two things...1. How did Han, who doesn't know me that terribly well (mostly due to language difficulties), know that bread pudding would be a perfect gift for me...Am I that transparent, yes, of course I am.

And 2. I am reminded of one of the elderly Italian men who followed me around Florence one day and finally caught up with me to tell me that he thought I was " Beautiful, not so skinny like most Italian women. YOU LOOK LIKE YOU EAT PASTA." Thanks, OLD Italian man (the young ones were never interested in me. Just my skinny, long haired, stylish and GORGEOUS friend Brooke), just what I needed to hear after gaining 5 pounds in a week and dealing with a major break-up.