Thursday mayhem

 

 

 

 

 

 

R--

Regression:

We giggled as I strapped her into my Ergo baby carrier yesterday before nap time. I found this relic of Karis' infancy while sorting through her baby clothes the other day. I pulled it out to surprise her and show her how I carried her around when she was a baby. She loved the experience of sitting so close to me and has since asked to go back in it a few times. I should have known that this little girl--who is still very much a baby in many ways--would love to be held like one. And I should have known that this mommy--who knows her baby-ness is quickly fading--would enjoy carrying her like one.

Reading:
I love food. I love to talk about it, eat it, watch people eat it, write about watching people eat it...you get the idea. Lately, I've been narrowing down what exactly it is that I like so much about food and the act of eating. One conclusion I have come to is that I love food stories. I love the intersection where food and people's lives collide. Recently, I've been enjoying a few food related books. Belinda Hulin's Roux Memories: A Cajun-Creole love Story With Recipes has taken me down the path of her childhood in New Orleans. It's filled with family photographs, and each recipe begins with a short story that explains the roots of the recipe in her family history. I've also enjoyed Harvest to Heat: Cooking with America's Best Chefs, Farmers, and Artisans. While the recipes don't seem very accessible to home cooks like myself, I love the stories about the farmers and chefs and their collaborations with each other. While I know I should expand my reading repertoire, books like these keep me heading back to my library's food section time after time.

Rufus:
Lately I've been enjoying the beautifully melancholy music of Rufus Wainwright. Karis, on the other hand, called it "scary boy music"and made a low, grunting noise to mimic his sound. I'm not swayed by her disapproval, and I even posted an article about my affection for his work over at Synconation yesterday.

The alley

When we first moved into our home nearly two years ago, I found the "alley" papers in the drawer to the left of the kitchen sink. I had heard about the infamous alley from the previous owner and several surrounding neighbors. Located directly behind my house, concealed from view by a privacy fence, lies an unpaved alley, overgrown and under-managed by the city. Neighbors claim it's a safety hazard and the direct result of neglect by the city. I'm not sure what the city would say (or has said) in response. Either way, I've always associated the alley with legal papers and disputes and much ill-will. 

What has caused division between parties and physical properties alike has recently acquired a new purpose for me. There is a stretch of 10 feet or so behind our shed where there is no privacy fence, only a chain link fence that I can see through to the wild alley beyond. The other day I was out in my yard and happened to walk by the shed. I glanced behind the shed and spotted a beautiful, overgrown alley with plants reaching up toward the sky and bathed in afternoon light. My neighbors are not going to like what came next.

Running inside to grab a large vase filled with water, some scissors and my camera, I made my way out back behind the shed and stood there for ten minutes collecting a vase full of shrimp plants, photographing their beautiful rust-colored blooms resembling the crustacean after which they are named. I felt a little naughty foraging through the orphaned alley, afraid Mema next door would see me and denounce me as a complete traitor.

Truth be told, I love that my urban neighborhood contains a little stretch of land that's been left (by whatever means) to run free. With rows of homes and gardens and lawns intentionally manicured to suit each individual homeowners' taste, I'm fond of the idea that this land is wild and rebellious and free. Of course, I get the irony that I couldn't help but touch and cut and tame some of that wild in order to bring it indoors to be admired on my windowsill and dining room table.

And what did Mema have to say when I showed them to her the next day? Sounding altogether unimpressed, with her voice low and flat, she said, "Shrimp plants." I wonder if she saw me.


.

She

:: dances around the house day and night in a ballerina outfit much too tiny and revealing for her growing height. When I insist she wear pants (for warmth and decency), she insists "I like the cold." Her current nasty cough tells me otherwise.

:: carries a flashlight around the house with her all day long. Having recently discovered the joy of battery-operated beams of light, I often find her tucked away in a dark corner quietly experimenting with light and shadows.

:: dreams of her school days to come. She babbles on giddily about all the fun it will be and what she'll learn and how she'll be just like her cousin Evie. I'm a little sad and a lot excited for her to enter this new phase of life.

:: learned a lot from our recent trip to visit friends and their new twin boys. She named her own babies "Pixie" and "Magazine" and prefers to hold them both at the same time.

Twenty Eleven

I'm always amazed at how wonderful and distracting the Christmas season is. And I'm usually even more surprised how refreshing it is to climb out of that holiday hole as soon as the new year strikes. This year was no different. I found myself invigorated by a return to the routine and obligatory coupled with a renewed sense of purpose and hope for the new year.

I could eat my words from last year's resolution post. I knew within a few days of writing it that I had reached too high in some of my goals, particularly my goal of 52 Fridays, a plan to have people over for dinner every Friday for the whole year. Zero--that's exactly the number of Fridays that I hosted people in my home last year. It turns out that 2010 had other plans in store for me and my family. Lots of maturing and searching and working and repenting and forgiving and rejoicing. Lots and lots. But, as a result, I stand here with my feet planted on the edge of 2011 feeling more hopeful than I was last year. Not wishful or dreaming. But hopeful. Honest-to-goodness hopeful.

I have not thought much about resolutions this new year. I suppose I'm feeling a little gun shy this time around lest I miss the mark again so terribly. As Matt and I ate Chinese food last night to celebrate 9 years of marriage (Yes, NINE!!), I told him how much I'm realizing that life has a way of carving out a path that I never planned for. It's a process that's so frightening in it's unpredictability and yet unmistakably beautiful because the plan has been there all along.

My bags are packed, 2011. I'm barely ready for this.

Day 22: Windblown

We attended a birthday party for a friend today. After days and days of freezing cold weather, it was a beautiful, sunny, wintry-Florida day at the park with temps in the upper 60's and a good breeze blowing. In fact, it was just enough breeze to prevent the birthday candle from staying lit. I was impressed with the 3-year-old birthday girl's patience.

Day 21: Gingerbread party

I hosted a cookie decorating party today for my friends (who also happen to be my neighbors, lucky me!). Lest any of you be tempted to think I've gone Martha on you, allow me to explain just how easy this was. Karis and Elise helped make the gingerbread men, then I filled some muffin tins with candy, threw a red-checkered tablecloth on the dining room table, draped a Santa hat over each chair for wearing, and we all had a festive party.

I originally saw the idea for a gingerbread house-decorating party in a magazine, but since all of the kids in attendance were four and under, I opted for a 'pre-baked gingerbread men decorating party'. It was a hit and oh-so-much-fun to watch the kids decorate the cookies. Each had a hard time getting past the deliciousness of the frosting, stopping often to lick their spoons and cookies. But once the adults demonstrated that the frosting made an excellent adhesive for the candy, they were off to the races, loading their cookies with as much candy as possible. The party was casual, fun, and something we'll definitely make a habit of.

Day 20: Concentric

:: With as much as Karis loves and plays with her Russian nesting dolls, I'm surprised the littlest doll still remains. I was sure we'd lose her by now, especially considering where I discovered the nativity set hiding the other day: tucked in a bag, inside of a purse, behind the t.v. cabinet. It was a lucky discovery on my part, and, of course, neither Karis nor her friend had any idea how it got there.

:: I've missed a few days in the DPP this year. It's unusual for me to do so, but it gives me so much admiration for those bloggers who manage to login and publish every day.

:: I published another article for synconation today. I'm enjoying the writing projects trickling in here and there, but I'm also feeling stretched thin. I forever juggle my desire to write within the limits of my precious duty as a mother. I know which one is more important, but I can't help but dream of a time to come when I can have a little bit of structured writing time mixed in with all of my mommy-ness. Karis is going to start VPK in the fall, and I can't help but want to call it something like "free babysitting where she also learns" or "my future writing time". Then again, we're seriously considering expanding our family soon, so....the juggling act will likely continue.

Day 17: Ruby red

Day 16: Play

While Karis napped this afternoon, I took advantage of the beautiful moments alone to play with Karis' Christmas presents one last time before I wrap them up. Apparently, it's become a bit of a tradition to play with her gifts before gifting them to her.

I'm thrilled with the gifts we're giving her this year. Among my favorites are a chest full of dolls from the 70's from her Aunt Megan's childhood collection, complete with outfits, shoes, and hangers. She's going to love dressing her new/old 'big girl' dolls.

I'm also loving the Melissa and Doug Fold 'n Go Barn I scored at a garage sale for $0.25. It was missing the animals that originally came with it, but the 'Farm Animals Bucket' from Target for $10 was just the perfect size. The third present worth noting but not pictured here is a puppet stand. While they currently sell for $70 elsewhere, I was so lucky to find it at Tuesday Morning for $30. Given the flare for drama and storytelling that Matt and I are prone to, I figure any and all children born into our home will love and use this gift in the years to come.

And I'm not going to lie. Karis will have to fight Matt and I to use it on Christmas morning.

Day 15: Downtown view

Karis and her friend Samuel looking out the 3rd floor art room windows at the the Main Street Library.

Day 14: Nativity

I first photographed our nativity set last year. We purchased this set a few years ago at a fair trade store in Chattanooga that has, sadly enough, shut it's doors to the public. I liked this nativity set particularly because of it's durability and kid-friendliness. I'm all for a fancy, off-limits nativity scene to be enjoyed from a distance. But I wanted this one to be accessible to Karis and her friends so that they could reenact the story of Jesus' birth. I was excited to walk in this morning and find Karis doing just that. She had lined up all the characters in a circle around baby Jesus. The image struck me as familiar, and I realized she was telling the story according to the pictures in the Jesus Storybook Bible, Jesus encircled by all the other characters.

I was glad to see the nativity set being used in the hands-on way I had hoped it would be. But I also learned that Karis has some of her Biblical facts mixed up. Joseph was banished to a basket all by himself because his eyes were closed (the artist's rendering), and she explained he was being punished for not looking at baby Jesus. She also told me one of the wise men was a leper (!). And, in the end, she said the scene was missing something. She ran off into her room for a few seconds, returned to the table with a new toy, and then continued to role play with the characters--Mary, Joseph, an angel, three wise men, the barn animals, baby Jesus, and one Fisher-Price alligator. That's my little Florida girl.

Day 13: Holiday baking

Am I the only one that cuts up my sticks of butter so that they will come to room temperature more quickly since I have, yet again, forgotten to take them out of the fridge ahead of time? Oh c'mon, nobody else?

Day 12: Mother-daughter date

We went to see cousin Evie perform in the Nutcracker last night. It was a splendid evening, complete with rare, "special occasion" items such as a velvety, faux-fur-around-the-neck dress (for Karis) and eyeliner (for me). Fancy, indeed.

Day 11: Bethlehem and mayhem

We took Karis to see a local live nativity production with some friends last night. It's a highly anticipated event in our town, and the turn out is in the tens of thousands, requiring rented parking lots, Disney-esque lines, bus rides from lot to location, and general people-herding. Nevertheless, we braved the crowds to get our first taste of Bethlehem reenacted in the 21st century, according to a local Presbyterian church.

My favorite part, by far, was hearing myself and the other mothers attempt to explain to the children what we were doing. The conversation sounded something like this:

Mothers: We're going to see Jesus, children!

Children: Yay, we're going to see Jesus!

Mothers: Well, he isn't going to be real....no, the baby will be real, of course, but he isn't Jesus...um, because Jesus WAS real...but he lived a long time ago. The baby is just acting like Jesus. Pretending, you know. Uh...Like a reenactment. Yeah, a reenactment like the ones that some people do of the Civil War. (sigh) Have you heard of the Civil War, children?

At this point, the fathers fired us stepped in and took over the discussion.

Day 10: The rat pack

A princess, a ballerina, a dalmatian puppy, and wonder woman.
 

Day 9: A new 'do

Day 8: Wolfgang Puck in my fireplace

Matt and I woke up this morning and before we even rolled out of bed, we heard the power shut down in the whole house. It's freezing cold here in North Florida, and Matt and I both knew it could be a cold day for me and Karis if we didn't get moving on a fire in the fireplace. So Matt the Protector headed out, gathered wood, and built us a nice blaze where Karis and I stayed put for the better part of an hour, getting up only to kiss Matt goodbye as he headed out to work.

Soon thereafter I became quite overcome with my desire for coffee. I figured if I could just find a way to heat up water in the fire then I could make a nice french press of coffee. I was further motivated to try by the thought of sharing a cup with our neighbor, Mema. So I rustled up a small pan from the kitchen, filled it with water, and placed it gently on a sturdy log in the fire.

The water seemed to be heating up quite nicely and surprisingly quickly when I noticed that bits of ash would periodically fly up from the embers and slowly fall into the water. Call me crazy, but I figured I could strain them out when I was done. But just as things were just about to reach the boiling point, the heat in the house kicked back on. Feeling a little disappointed but like it was the safe thing to do, I backed the pan out of the fire and poured the water (which smelled like a smokey barbecue joint) down the drain.

My hour-long suffering from cold and no coffee reminded me, once again, how hard life must have been before electricity. I'm quite sure life was consumed by the basics, i.e. keeping oneself fed, warm, clothed, etc. In the end, I still made that French Press of coffee...with water heated in my electric kettle. Ah, sweet, modern-day, 'no ash in my water' electricity.

Day 6: This must be love

The other night Matt asked me to make a salad that he had tried at a party a few weeks ago. And when I say he "asked" me I mean he purchased the ingredients, set them on the counter, and kindly requested we dine on it the very next evening. In other words, he was dead serious about eating it again.

Now, I'm a reasonable woman with a deep and abiding love for the man I married, but I realized just how deep and abiding that love really is as I stirred together the ingredients for watergate salad. The ingredient list reads: cool whip, marshmallows, canned crushed pineapple, walnuts, and instant pistachio pudding mix (!).

As I stirred it all together, ribbons of light green pistachio pudding slowly mixed with the cool whip fluff, creating a subtle minty green substance so airy and light that I can only describe it as other-worldly. It's the stuff I imagine martians enjoy for a late night snack.

This was when I learned "salad" is a forgiving term, requiring absolutely nothing fresh in it in order to go by that name. This was when Karis ate and loved marshmallows for the first time. This was also when I knew how much I love Matt. And, as much as I hate to admit it, this was when I discovered I rather like watergate salad. There, I said it.

***In other news, I had two articles published today. One is over at State of the Re:Union. It's a follow up interview with Operation New Hope, a Jacksonville organization that was originally featured in our pilot episode. 

Secondly, I've started writing for a new music blog Synconation. I'm excited to be a part of a passionate group of writers, each covering our own musical interests. I'll be covering the genres of foreign music and folk music for children. In my first piece, I reminisce about my childhood and introduce audiences to the soulful sounds of the Cape Verdean singer Cesaria Evora. Check out the article here.***

Day 5: Tangelo time