out, about
August 31, 2008 | Filed Under familial, royal buffet | 2 Comments
my brother and his wife are the proud new parents of one very lovely baby boy. welcome to the world, little one! there really is nothing like a new baby about. lola is no longer the smallest and, in fact, looks to be nearly a teenager compared to something as fresh and red as this boy.
some of my family came for a much anticipated and long awaited visit this week, thus my blogging (and otherwise) absence. cleaning and cooking and doing royal things in addition to ernie painting the front door (three cheers for turquoise), laundry, the horrors of teething gums in a baby’s mouth, and dancing with boys who, for some reason only known to people like my husband and noel and troy and melanie, think my dance moves are completely and impossibly terrible and ridiculous. well, sniff.
i found some more tree graffiti on bamboo, a bench. i love finding it and must remember to always be looking for it. i like how fast it had to be carved, the idea of that sick “i shouldn’t do this” feeling in their stomachs, the glee during the run away, a name, two, forever where it shouldn’t be. i’ve added them to the set that be seen here, on flickr, which i love!
this week we’re looking forward to a day at grandpa’s farm (more family, golf carts, the hope for good tomatoes), a birthday party for marsh (a one year old marsh! no!), planning for school to start the week following, eating all of those peaches i couldn’t stop buying at the market, more garlands (october-ish cats, i can’t wait, they’re so terrific, if i do say so myself…), the possibility of a clean house, and catching up on all i’ve left behind.
homework
August 21, 2008 | Filed Under royal buffet | 2 Comments
i’ve been busy making things for the royal buffet window display (october) at the art and light gallery downtown and really just can’t keep them to myself so some things are going in the etsy shop between now and early next week. annie and i are excited to put our things in those terrific windows, not just because it’s a great little shop and is good advertising for royal buffet, but also because it will be in october, a month of leaves and blackbirds and gold and white here and there. i’ll be sure to post pics when we fling and hang our lovelies far and wide (well, as far and as wide as the pointy corner can be adorned) and if you’re a greenville reader of this blog you’re nearly required to stop in and see it.
in other news, i found a sofa a weekish ago at a thrift store, the one where we also got our piano, the one where sometimes the records are only ten cents (instead of one hundred cents) apiece, the one whose management did not notice the wind blowing their stroller and bicycle curb display into the four lanes of traffic and beyond, that one. it’s definitely not the sofa of my dreams, but it is much better than the other dreadful thing we had, the sofa (sofa or couch: what do you say?) that we enjoyed, just this morning, from behind the curtains, peeking, watching the garbage truck bite in half and swallow. who knew it would be so easy for such a pimpled and below-average machine to do? we still have the cushions, although i’m debating the wisdom of this since they’re always in the way, everywhere, used wildly, and, worst of all, don’t really have a home now that they’re loose and kept for play. i knew that the new sofa was mine when i saw that the cushion had hooks and clips so that it cannot be removed unless you are an adult, or a child with great patience (the latter of which we do not have, as yet).
love letter
August 20, 2008 | Filed Under familial, letters | 5 Comments
lola, it is probably good that you tell me with your voice and your
expression that you have had enough of my fiddling with you here (let’s
wear this dress! no, this one!) and there (what kinds of shoes should
you wear when you walk?) and a little bit here (sit, let me clip this
wisp of hair with this poodle barrette!) and a little more here (quick!
with the flowers! the camera!). sometimes when i’m taking care of you
i remember being a mother to my dolls, the one who peed her pants after
drinking from her bottle (and after giving a good shaking, oh my, what
a terrible design…), the prairie baby with the soft face and
embroidered eyelashes (i’d love another of these prairie babies, mom,
really. please make us one. please!). you are like a doll, lola,
your fat legs and cheeks, your little lips and nose. so it is good
that you tell me enough is enough or i may get a little carried away.
oh, peaches (the edible kind, not the nickname-y baby kind — this is
for you, annie, carey), how i love you! i enjoy squeezing you and
peeling off your skin and pureeing you in the blender. the lingering
sweetness that you leave in the air stays in the kitchen long after
you’ve been eaten and wiped away, and i like that.
somehow noise and chaos are not what i make and do these days, i
don’t know when or where i lost this ability and, instead, became
annoyed and exhausted by it. probably at bob jones. boys, henry,
jude, i was a girl once, a long time ago, and i’m sure we would have
made quite a ruckus together, outside in the firefly light and dark
grass of that yard i lived in when i was six, seven. of course, we are
here together and i should be able to make a ruckus with you now.
sometimes we do. i apologize for my impatience with your volume, for
the way i often want to stop all of your crazy movements just because
when i see them out of the corners of my eyes it annoys me. why is it
annoying? i don’t want to be annoyed by your childishness.
summer, you’ve been good to us, lazy and good. a little too hot and
there wasn’t much rain in you so everything we planted died or didn’t
bother to come up from the cool dark earth into the shadow of the
shriveling orange dress that you insisted on wearing. you came to us
first at the beach and this may be the best way to say goodbye to
spring. hopefully it will be the way we say goodbye to you, sand and
the the glitter of sun in shards and salt on the water. i think that
this sort of goodbye is the kind that you like the best, isn’t it? a
freckled wave of your hand in the sea, the wind on your back cool and
october.
seven is God’s lucky number
August 18, 2008 | Filed Under lover | 9 Comments
my mom tells a story about a time she was asked to guess the meaning of a vanity license plate belonging to a swarthy (was he swarthy? i always picture swarthiness…) man in a parking lot. the plate read FSHG 317 and my mother guessed, as i would have (what would you have guessed?), “fishing, 317?” the man guffawed, perhaps because he couldn’t believe she was too stupid to answer correctly, or perhaps because he thought he was so clever with his secret message (secret messages aren’t really the point of vanity plates, right?), and said, “no! it stands for father, son, holy ghost, three in one, and seven is God’s luuuuuucky number!”
anytime something comes in sevens i think of this man and i laugh and then maybe feel a little bit sorry that he wasn’t catechized about God and luck not really going hand in hand.
today is the anniversary, the seventh anniversary, of our wedding, the day that ernie and i dressed up and wore flowers and were wed in holy matrimony. seven years and i feel like a very lucky girl indeed. happy anniversary, dearest. isn’t it nice to be in love?
sand in the bed
August 17, 2008 | Filed Under inspired, lists | 4 Comments
things that give a little thrill
the idea of fall and little things made from faux fur, or big monster things made from faux fur, either way
school starting next week, the empty parks and playgrounds that follow
pencils and rulers and stacks of paper and people crowding the aisles to fill their baskets
jude choosing new sneakers (”aaah, this is what i’m talking about.”)
rainy mornings
the amazingness of todd selby’s the selby is in you place project, especially in new york, especially her, and these two beautiful people, and him, and imagining myself hanging anything that has seen a taxidermist (do take some time and look at these and bookmark the page and check back often, some of them are beyond inspiring. for instance, i am no longer feeling guilty about my stacks and stacks of paper and fabric, clippings, national geographics in truly outrageous quantities, those crumpled velvet leaves from a long lost hat, a saved postcard depicting the rapture, you get the idea.)
lola asleep, lola awake
peaches whirled with milk and ice and sugar
peaches whirled with milk and ice and sugar, again
magazines, i love the things
olympic drama
dropping things at salvation army
indian food and thinking about indian food
this is an outside toy
August 14, 2008 | Filed Under ordinary | 1 Comment
unearthly, the quiet in the house, the baby asleep for another kitten nap as she is known to take these days of teeth and the rambunctiousness of boys. ernie took henry, adorned in new soccer cleats and shorts and shin guards (”shingle guards” he says; oh, i love this boy), and jude, himself insisting on having his shirt on backwards and wearing flip flops (”i don’t want to wear socks!”) with his own new shorts, to the soccer fields to kick their balls far and wide, to run and jump and turn red and curly and hot.
daylight coming through the windows is rare to see at the same time my ears are hearing nothing, the occasional fly-by of a car, trucks on the road, the whirr of the refrigerator, the click of my fingers, the dryer and those sneakers for the creek thumping around until they mischeviously kick open the door, smirks on their faces. i’m here making dinner, something uninspired and mundane. it has started to rain and i need to switch on a light.
raucous calls early in the morning
August 13, 2008 | Filed Under familial, royal buffet | 3 Comments
all is well, quiet, the loudness of the day tucked and snoring, the baby asleep on my chest thanks to the latest babywearing device that i should have discovered long ago. a stretchy wrap: the moby! it came after being ordered after being spied on at a babywearing group last week where i met up with some cool mamas who know that keeping baby close is the best way of transportation. i wished two things after the group: that there had been a group like this to demonstrate pouches and wraps and slings to me when henry was a baby and i was shoving him down in a maya and watching the tongue twister dvd. for one thing, henry’s feet wouldn’t have turned blue as they did on occasion (!), and (second wish) i would have gotten a soft-as-your-favorite t-shirt wrap much, much sooner. all of these lost years, alas. all of my babies have loved to be carried in the various and sundry pouches and ring slings and that mei tei that i loved to sew, but the only wrap i tried was a didymos and it was heavy and lola squalled and i was hot and annoyed and gave it up for lost (“sold! to the woman who loves music history!”). but this, the moby is different. i would not call it a chocolate brown color, though that is how the website described it. it is more of an eggplant, if you will. lola and i both look good in eggplant.
if you are in the greenville area and have a wee babe, are expecting one, or just want to be in the know, the greenville babywearing group meets on the first thursday of the month at the downtown library at six o’clock p.m.
no pics of lola wearing the eggplant, but this bird will be in the shop soon!
bread that is best
August 11, 2008 | Filed Under for the mouth | 1 Comment
ernie’s aunt martha has this amazing bread recipe that her kids call the “best bread.” with my new bosch on the counter i tried it last week and even though i was right there scooping the fifteenth cup of flour into the machine i didn’t think that the green bowl would not contain the growing dough that crept up the sides and over and onto the stove like the blob. i also didn’t know that it would make three of the most gigantic round loaves of bread and two little baby loaves and that my oven would not be able to contain its magnitude. we gave some of it away, ate it, and the last of it was found yesterday in a sad moldy lump on the back of the fridge. it’s hard to keep track of so much bread. so this morning when i made it i cut the recipe in half and it made a manageable, yet abundant, dough whose yield was four friendly loaves that all fit on the counter in a nice, neat line. we ate the first one with butter and honey, hot and smashed from the too-soon cutting of it, the best way.
so, here it is, friends and all, marmee’s “best” bread. i used more whole wheat flour than she calls for, cut the recipe in half (this is the halved recipe), and used all oil instead of part oil and part butter. for her original recipe, and some really amazing breads, you can buy her cute little bread basket cookbook.
in your mixer, combine the following:
2 1/2 c. very warm water
1/3 c. sugar
1/4 c. butter
1/3 c. oil
1/3 c. dry milk powder (i like the whole milk nido!)
1 1/2 c. whole wheat flour
3/4 T sea salt
2 T good yeast (like SAF: not those wretched little packets!)
so, mix all of those things and then add enough all purpose flour, one cup at a time, until you’re getting a soft, workable dough that doesn’t stick to the sides of the bowl. don’t add too much flour or it will be too heavy. i think it’s approximately five cups here. if you want to add more whole wheat another cup can substitute some of the white flour in this step. knead for about six minutes. then let it rise for about 45 minutes in a warm place. punch it down (my favorite part, so gratifying, just as mister rogers knows) and divide it into four pieces. roll them out, shape into loaves, place in oiled bread pans. allow to rise for 35 minutes. bake at 350 for another 35 minutes or until a golden brown. let stand in pans for 10 minutes then turn onto wire racks. cool completely before cutting (unless you want that yummy, hot, smooshed loaf to eat in one sitting. trust me, you do.). brush with butter on top to make a soft crust.
makes four: one or two to give, one to eat hot, and one or two for toast or sandwiches for the next day or two, depending on how many people want to eat it in your house.
…sitting in a tree
August 5, 2008 | Filed Under ordinary | 1 Comment
it’s still hot, sticky, the summer seeming to drag on. at this point i wonder why i ever look forward to summer. the only reason for summer seems to be the beach. and peaches. and sandals. and the boys, lola, their hair curling in the heat and perspiration.
we went for a short trip to the mountain today, to find the creek we always said, “it’s cold! not today!” about all winter when it was gray and we wore sweaters and socks, a hat on a new bald baby, cold red fingers collecting sticks. there were people swimming in the lake, the lazy lifeguards under umbrellas, a few grandmas in the shade, the geese somewhere cooler, somewhere away from the splashing. we found the creek, the clear water and round pebbles beneath, splashing whether everyone wanted it or not, mud and leaves and the dapple of sunshine and green, green everywhere. i tried not to be too worried about things like leeches and snakes and that depressing jim croce song about crossing the cottonmouth river kept coming to mind. i warn about snakes, those holes in the bank suspicious. jude is too loud and wild for a snake to stick around, henry is cautious and we both think about the swiss brothers robinson, the jungle, the boaconstrictor, the fact that none of us have one of those knives in our belts.
there was some terrific old graffiti (as terrific as carved graffiti can be, of course. ahem.) on some of the trees, this wonderful heart that would have been wonderful had i happened upon it during the time frame for pia’s my heart wanders project. i was looking for a good heart everywhere and never found one worthwhile that didn’t seem contrived. oh well, maybe she’ll do a book two? i wonder who these people were, if they’re still in love, if they remember such carving. i don’t remember if i’ve ever had my name carved with another on a tree like that, so perhaps they’ve forgotten, too? more of these, and more to come (i really enjoyed this) can be seen here.
what she wants, she gets
August 3, 2008 | Filed Under ordinary | 3 Comments
yes! the blog is fixed! if you read my previous post on the quirks i was having with wordpress that made this place look terrible, then you know what i’m talking about. the speed at which my husband fixed the problem is somewhat astonishing to me since he is a very busy man with many things that he needs to do and my vain and silly aesthetic issues with my ittle blog should not have moved their way to the top of his list so quickly. thank you, dearest husband, for loving me all the more.
i never got into the headbands on bald baby girls, or the glued on bows, for that matter. i’ve actually become partial to pink, especially dark pink, with green. or orange. pink, a color long avoided by me. the last pink thing i remember loving before i had a daughter was a pale pink turtleneck that i wore many days in a row with a grey corderoy skirt. i think i was in junior high and i thought that this outfit was the coolest thing ever. i think there were grey kneesocks involved and i remember liking it that i matched the gray and pink elephant that our dog amos had maimed before we gave him away for maiming a human kid down the street. yikes. i’m sure there were other times i considered pink, but none that were memorable. when i think about pink things for lola i think of them in a bold, hel-looks kind of way and want to start sewing and buy kneesocks to embellish with pom-poms (what a great idea in the latest ready-made! several good ideas, this time, actually).
and now i’ve started something that i really just cannot stop and that fills me with glee. plastic hair clips! the little ones that have poodles and turtles and ducks in sailor hats on them. lola has nearly no hair at all, but what grows on top is clippable, even though the clip is slippable, and i just can’t help myself.