The Sky

My husband had a wonderful class in college called The Sky which explored naked eye observations of the sky and its machinations. Guess who now knows what a waxing gibbous moon is--yes, that's right, my kids! My husband has been relaying all sorts of sky information to the kids with very clear explanations and drawings on our fabulous giant dry erase board that my husband snagged from work when they were throwing it out.

Actually, we've both been showing the kids all sorts of things now that the board is hanging on the kitchen wall. The kids are also drawing various things up there and it has dramatically changed how we homeschool around here. Who knew such a simple thing could have such a huge effect? And yet, sometimes the right tools make a difference in whatever you're doing. It's there and everyone in this house is now drawn to it.


Last night, my son was looking at the sky with my husband through binoculars and they both saw all sorts of features on the moon. To the east was Jupiter, and then east of that was Uranus. My son is 12... Yes, there are certain jokes that seem to always come up with regard to that particular planet, but we didn't care. He was seeing our universe and understanding it a little bit more.

Today, I saw a story on Huffington Post about a dad and his son who sent a weather balloon into space with an insulated, protective foam wrap around a video recorder and made a film of the balloon ascending 20 miles up into the sky. Inside the foam was an i-phone which acted as a GPS so that they could then retrieve it once the balloon popped and the parachute allowed it to come safely back to earth.

Amazing and fun!

When's the last time you looked up at the sky with wonder and curiosity and interest? You should look up. It's awesome up there! And, if you're 12, it can inspire some hilarity. If you know what I mean...

My Husband Amazes Me

My husband has done it again. He grabbed victory from the jaws of defeat. He looked the enemy in the eyes and did not blink.

He is amazing, I tell you!

See the picture above? That is the wrong amp. but it looks like the kind of fuse that blew out of our washing machine as I was putting in a load of clothes. Clothes, that if you must know (and you must, because this bit adds import) had not a few of my dirty underwear. I needed to do a load of laundry STAT!

The lights came on showing me that the washing machine was running--but there was no water sound. The tub wasn't filling. There wasn't any kind of sound whatsoever. It didn't work!

I called my husband at work, and when he came home he opened up the machine.

That is an action that just never occurs to me. Does it occur to you? Do you think, "Hm. I think I'll just take a peekie boo and see if I can't SEE what the problem might be." I don't think to do that because I don't know what I'm looking for or if I would recognize it if I did see it. "Oh, you mean there aren't supposed to be blown fuses in the workings of the washing machine? Huh." * blink, blink* * blink, blink*

I went to Radio Shack and got the replacement fuse.

My husband just put it in and the washing machine is washing my clothes as I write this to you. It is amazing! But, that's not all...

On the way to work, my husband felt that his bike tire was low. He had a slow leak and was able to stop at a gas station and fill it up enough to get him to work. From work he brought home a battery operated pump and used it as needed on the way home.

When he got home, he fixed the computer that was saying telling us that there was a virus. But, there really wasn't--just spam; it was very urgent, insistent spam. Seemed real.

Isn't he the greatest?

Yeah, he is.

I know it's all a bit of white man's blues. It's first world problems we were facing. Those kind of minor, frustrating things that pop up and must be dealt with and solved and corrected. No one's health was in jeopardy. No one was hungry. The problems only lasted a day.

I just am pleased that my partner knows how to take care of stuff and does.

He is amazing.

Words

I just used the word "constancy" during a conversation with my husband. He thought that was pretty funny and told me that the word is actually "constanconcy".

Some people have a way with words. Others, sort of, not have way...

Bringing You up to Date

The homeschooling conference last weekend was a smashing success. There were only a couple of glitches, but on the whole, I think everyone had a good time. I know my family did.

The presenters who held workshops for me all were well liked--they did a great job. I've thanked them and they all let me know that they want to return next year, because it was a good experience for them too. So, despite the two presenters dropping out and leaving us high and dry and needing to fill ten workshops at the last minute, everyone and everything else worked out.

Today, my son came screaming up to me where I was still snuggling in bed with my daughter (the kids come in the moment they wake up in the early morning and come for a snuggle and talk in our bed). He had been in the downstairs bathroom and the toilet was overflowing. You know, overflowing like how you see in movies where it seems improbable that anything could behave like that in real life, and yet, sometimes art imitates life.

My son was both panicked and laughing as he ran to me which made me alternately skeptical about his veracity and then mad as I realized he was laughing in the midst of a crisis! Don't laugh in a crisis situation--keep your cool!! KEEP YOUR COOL!!! Calm reaction on my part, eh?

There was at least an inch of standing water on the bathroom floor, when I got there. It was starting to just seep into the adjacent laundry room and was being wicked into the family room carpet outside of the bathroom door.

I rolled up my pant legs, ran into the bathroom, and tried to see the shut off valve under the toilet. Find it--find it!! I found it and gave it a good hard turn where it crumbled in my hands. WTF!!!! It worked though, before it crumbled.

The kids ran and got me towels and old cloth diapers and I soaked up the water and washed towels and mopped the bathroom floor. That bathroom is now out of order--no one allowed in.

(May I interrupt here? Attention young mothers of cloth diapered babies:

Don't ever throw out your diapers. They will be invaluable rags for many, many years to come. Save them and use them. Yet another reason to cloth diaper...)

Here's an image of how the water looked flooding the bathroom floor--yes, it really was this bad...

I called my industrial designer husband who was disgusted that the one time in however many years we have needed to use the toilet shut off valve, it almost didn't work and is now broken. Which brings me to health care reform.

My husband when he was my fiancee, filled with the promise of our future life together, was having a tightening of the chest, a racing of the heart, a breathlessness, an overwhelming feeling of panic. My God--what could be wrong?!

He had never gone to the doctor. He spent a decade not making a claim. The insurance people lost no money with him.

We rushed ourselves over to a hospital emergency room, without getting the OK of his HMO people first, and had him checked out. Turns out there was no real health issue, but we didn't know that at the time. We didn't know he was not having a heart attack, we just knew there was something wrong.

The next week, he had a stress test. Fine--nothing wrong. I started to put it all together... Might my fiancee be freaking out about our upcoming wedding? Might he be physcially manifesting all of his anxiousness in his typical male way instead of connecting with someone and talking about it?

Yes. Yes, he was.

No, I am not offended that my husband thought he might be dying when he was about to marry me... Why do you ask?

Getting married is a big deal. It is supposed to be a lifetime commitment. Having heart attack symptoms before the nuptials might make you think long and hard about the direction your life is taking. It might make you be sure of what you're doing. Or, you don't connect any of that and are unaware of the mind/body connection and think you are having heart problems just as the mainstream doctor thought.

HELLO! We're getting married in two weeks--do you think my fiancee is freaking out about it? Could that cause his symptoms? Why do doctors not ask questions about your life? Why do they not ask about your lifestyle--what you eat, drink, how you exercise, or don't? Why do they not ask what's happening to you as an individual? This doctor didn't.

Any way, when we got back from our honeymoon we were bombarded with bills from the hospital. MY HUSBAND'S INSURANCE COMPANY WAS NOT COVERING THE INITIAL EMERGENCY HOSPITAL VISIT BECAUSE HE DIDN'T GET A REFERRAL TO GO FROM THEM AND IT TURNED OUT THAT HE DIDN'T HAVE A HEART CONDITION. HE WAS NOT HAVING A HEART ATTACK, ALTHOUGH WE THOUGHT HE MIGHT BE, AND SO THEREFORE THEY WOULDN'T COVER IT AFTER THE FACT!!!!

No. That was ridiculous and wouldn't stand.

I called them and berated them for having the audacity to not cover any kind of claim my husband might have made after not EVER going to the doctor for a decade. I told them that we didn't know he was not having a heart attack and that it was absurd for them to ever expect people to call for permission to go get help when they thought their lives were in danger. I told them that we would not pay any of those bills, that they had better, and that it was arrogant and nasty of them to even think not to cover my husband.

The insurance person put me on hold for a couple of minutes, talked with a supervisor and then got back on to tell me that I was right. No, we would not be responsible for any of those bills.

Damn straight we won't.

Others are not as lucky as I was in that phone call. They get stuck with bills that they shouldn't get stuck with. They get turned away. They get stiffed. They can't go to a certain doctor because he/she is not in their pool. Health care in this country has been messed up for a long time. Now, things are turning. It's about time.

Today I am 44/Random Stuff

It's my birthday today--I'm 44. Which means that the kids made me homemade cards yesterday with my husband's prompting, hid them in their rooms, and when they woke up this morning, they got them and gave them to me in bed. It was very, very sweet.

It also means that I had to go and get my drivers license renewed as it expired on this day--why did I not do it last week, or the week before that, or before that?! I'll tell you--because that's not how I roll.

I wait.

I procrastinate.

I stall, and push aside and forget until I can't any more.

Oh, and I'm none too pleased with Obama either (yes a non sequitur...) Where's the Change?! Did we close Gitmo yet? Not only are we not out of Iraq yet, we're increasing our military presence in Afghanistan. Because Russia was so successful there and we can turn to their experience as an example, right? Why are Monsanto people in any kind of position in the government--can you say fox guarding the hen house?

I want a fierce proponent for all of the liberal stuff I believe in and thought we had that with Obama. I'm hoping he has some sort of secret hidden long term plan that will all come right in the end. But for right now I'm worried.

We have rats, but not the invading, uninvited kind. We purposely went and got them as pets. Not ones from the pet store as we learned from all of our google research they would not have been properly socialized. No. I had to find ratterys in the Northern Illinois area and find ones that had babies. Ones that had female babies (the males mark a lot and get really big--we didn't want that.)

I finally found a rat breeder--and can I just say here that I didn't realize there was such a thing as a rat breeder or that they breed Fancy Rats. I love sub cultures. There's so much in the world--I will never be bored. We went almost to the Wisconsin border and bought our rats, a giant cage, a running wheel and brought them home.

My kids are ecstatic. It turns out that a fancy goldfish doesn't really elicit any kind of affection or feelings of fun from my children. After my daughter's ancient calico goldfish died, the kids started lobbying for some sort of mammal. Our 24 year old cat won't tolerate another cat or a dog, and I don't blame her. The search was on then for a small caged mammal.

My son told me that he had heard that rats make good pets. Yeah, OK. But they're creepy, and while I know that the plague wasn't their fault but that of their flea passengers, still, they were involved. Plus, there's that hairless tail. Ugh. *shudder*

I googled, "which is a better pet a rat or a mouse?" The result was dramatic and almost completely one sided. The rat won. It is smart, trainable, affectionate and unlike mice, hamsters and gerbils doesn't bite. What?! Who knew? It will come when called, and can learn tricks. It doesn't smell and is social, so needs companions.

We got four rats.

I am a sucker.

My kids are all the more happy for it.

What's new with you cyber people? Tell me the good news!

And lastly, Team Conan.

Houston, We Have a Problem

Me: What's the difference between a meteor and a meteorite? The meteor is glowing in the sky and the meteorite is the rock once it's landed? Is that right?

Husband: Yes. And if it lands on the other side, it's a meteorleft...

Big yucks.

Great America Homeschooling Day

My kids don't "go back to school" because we homeschool. We don't have a start to the year and just keep doing what we do all year round. We do however have a homeschooling day at Great America while other kids are at school and it is still nice out. Great America gets a whole lot of cash that they wouldn't otherwise and the homeschooling attendees get a whole lot of rides because there are no lines! It is shocking how short the wait is for the rides. Some rides had no wait at all and because of it the kids were allowed to go again without even getting out of the car.

We ran into some friends and the kids went on some of the rides with them. We also peeled away to do our own thing sometimes. All total my kids went on rides 17 times. They went on roller coasters, water rafts and spinning cups called the Fiddlers Fling. They dropped from towers, were flung upside down, spun sideways and defied gravity in other interesting, dizzying ways.

I only went on the water raft because I am lame. I am not ashamed to admit that and readily accept how it mirrors my own mother's behavior from my childhood. "We mock the things we are to be!"

My husband went on almost all of the rides with the kids. They all loved it and no one got sick.

While they rode, I sat on a wooden bench in the pleasant shade and read a book and enjoyed all of the other homeschooling kids walking with their friends and their parents and siblings going from ride to ride.

How is it that I am now exhausted?

Out of the Mouths of Babes...

Last night at the pool, we were all in the deep end. My daughter looked at my husband for a long time, dunked her head and then came out to comment, "Dad, your fur goes like this *makes undulating movement with her hand*"

My husband said, "It's hair, not fur..."

A moment later my daughter dunked down again, came up and then said, "And, your back fur goes like this *makes swishing movement side to side with her hand*"

Hilarious.

Both kids jumped off of the high dive and the low board and there my son did a forward flip as well.

Water bugs.

There's a Book for Everybody

My son is exclaiming and sharing all that he is learning in his new all time favorite book ever, The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection From the Living Dead, by Max Brooks. Since getting the book on Tuesday, he has learned about Marshall Law, learned the gun terms caliber, magnum, and knows exactly what to do in case of a zombie attack--as you might guess, you should already have a plan...

Yesterday, my daughter came down the stairs, tears streaming down her face, quivery lower lip and sobbed, "Jack is dead!" Poor, poor Jack, Laura's dog, dies in By the Shores of Silver Lake by Laura Ingalls Wilder. My daughter cried for him as we talked about how guilty Laura had felt for not petting him more. We agreed that maybe she should go and pet our 23 year old cat. That would maybe help her feel OK.

I am hunting down vermiculite on line as they don't have big enough bags of the stuff in any nursery or gardening center around here. Why do I need a big bag of vermiculite? Because I am making a raised bed for vegetables and using the approach outlined by Mel Bartholomew in his book, All New Square Foot Gardening. With this approach, I make a soil blend and one third of it is vermiculite. One third is peat and another third is a mix of different types of compost. Because of the third compost, the garden is wonderfully fertilized and is truly organic. Hurray! I'm reading the book and tracking down my supplies.

My husband is reading about baseball or bicycle repair or VW bugs, or something that has a thing as its subject. You can't escape that if you're an industrial designer.

One time my husband and I were in an old post office and when we got out of there, my husband asked me if I had seen the very elaborate system they had for opening the windows that were high up. I guess there were bars and pulleys and cords and I hadn't noticed any of that. Not only had I not noticed the means for opening the windows, I was only vaguely aware that there had even been windows. I don't go around reverse engineering the world as my husband does and I rarely raise my eyes more than 20 degrees above the horizon--if that.

My husband was a bit surprised by that--how can you not notice if there are windows or not? I don't know. How can you not notice a tone of voice or a facial expression and how that contributes to communication? Hmmmmm?

All this to say, there is a book out there for everybody.

Happy reading!

You Know What You Can do With Quinoa?

Grass/weed of some sort that I'm pretending is actually quinoa.

Do you know what you can do with quinoa? Well, it depends on who you are. POV is very important here.

If you're a 43 year old wife and mother, you can cook it in some chicken broth and vegetable broth and finely chop some left over sauteed zucchini and mix that in and add some garlic and salt and pepper and some fine herbs. Delicious.

If you are a 44 year old husband and father you can look at the little squiggles with some suspicion, but suck it up any way as an example for the children.

If you are a 10 year old son and brother, you can announce to the table that you will try a little (very brave we all thought).

If you are an 8 year old daughter and sister, you can try it with gusto and realize just a few bites in that you don't like it. However, you may find, as my daughter did, that it makes a wonderful sculpting medium. Instead of making a many petaled flower, you might poop out and decide to just make a bunny after carefully placing two petals. They happen to make lovely ears.

Sometimes the medium shapes the form. The bunny was already in the quinoa and my daughter just needed to release it.

Your quinoa bunny will be received with great acclaim.

Again, Why There are Two Parents...

My husband and I bring different things to the parenting table. Some of that is just because of who we are--our different abilities, sensibilities and approach to our kids. Some of it is because of gender differences (yes, I said that...) But, some of those gender differences are there because of how we ourselves were parented, and the time we came from. (I must share here that my parents were pretty good about raising us to realize whatever we wanted to do regardless of gender. I portaged canoes, my brother made lasagna, etc.)

My husband will build an 8 ft. trebuchet with my son in the summer. That would never in a million years occur to me to do. Never. However, I did build our kids' wooden swing set with my husband's guidance and help when he had carpal tunnel syndrome and could not do drilling and hammering... or so the story goes...

My husband would cut the pieces to length and then tell me how to put them together and hammer them or drill or sink or counter sink--220, 221 whatever it takes.

In any case, he and I built a pretty fine swing set for the kids. That particular project was also the first time I had ever handled a drill. I don't think that's so rare, but it seemed flagrantly ludicrous to my husband. My husband, who had once coached me on how to change my own damn tire and be my own knight in shining armor. You know why? Because, I could, that's why.

I think he feels that everyone should be able to do everything. Handling a drill is not just for men or boys. We are not crippled by past ideas--we can do what we want. We have brains and hands and our gender doesn't preclude us doing certain things.

My son helped my husband build our compost bin, and then my husband thought my daughter should help as well. He asked her if she'd like to, and she was wanting to help too. Take a look at these pictures of my daughter helping my husband build our compost bin.

Here she is drilling holes. Maybe not the best way to hold a drill, but she has control, so that's what counts.

At a slightly different position...

Putting some giddyap on it...

Eyeballing the position...

In total control...

I would never think to let my little girl handle a heavy drill. Never. My husband told her what to do and then stepped back, and worked on something else while she did it. He didn't hover. He just let her go.

I, on the other hand, saw the great photo opportunity and tore into the house to get my camera to take pictures of her from across the yard. I was impressed by her drilling ability and her fearlessness.

Do you need a picture hung? I've got two kids that can handle the job.

I am Deluded..it is Spring, right?

Well, as much as I love beautiful, fluffy, flaky, crystalline, icy snow, I think it really stinks when it's supposed to be Spring around here. Its timing is waaaay off. We need daffodils and tulips and magnolias and nest building sparrows twittering amid the buds on our maple tree. I need to wash clothes and hang them on our clothes line. My daughter needs to be able to transplant her flower seedlings outside.

My husband loves to initiate projects with the kids. He and my son are going to build an 8 ft. trebuchet and launch things with it in the Summer. (No, I'm not concerned, why do you ask?) Any way, he thought he could help my daughter plant up some flower seeds and we'd see what happens with them. It is her job to water them and see how they're progressing. She's doing a great job of it.

My husband set up a long table in the living room, displacing our other furniture--because this is more important, that's why--in front of the windows where the seedlings will get some needed light. And, there they're growing beautifully in the egg cartons we saved from the farmers, and the plastic trays our friend Neo-agrarian lent us (and thanks for the seeds too!).

Let's look at these hopeful, bright, tender shoots leaning hard into the light. Grow little ones, grow!

Look how earnest and innocent they are:



This one still has the seed attached...



Look at this beautiful leaf growing into form.


And here, past this micro grove of seedlings, on the other side of those windows, you can see snow piled up on the bushes outside.


It's in the crooks of trees where mighty branches join up with thick trunks.


It's on the buds that are setting out their maple propeller seeds that will litter our lawn in a few weeks time.


And, the snow is on my clothes line.

Springtime in the Chicago area is a fickle thing and always has been. How I am lulled and seduced by the first hints of it every year is amazing to me. Why, why, why do I never expect any more snow after we've had our first freakishly warm day of the 70's way back in March? Why? How do I not learn from my mistakes of the past?

It will ALWAYS snow again. Always. I must remember that and never forget it again.

Squirrel Nut Zippers

My husband and I went into Chicago for a rare date night--my parents watched the kids and had a good time--and we saw the Squirrel Nut Zippers perform at the House of Blues.

This group is so tight and play live pretty much the same way as they have recorded their CDs.

I liked their choices in grouping songs. They played Bad Businessman followed by Hell. I think there's some editorial comment in the lineup choice.

Bad Businessman lyrics:

There's a man going around town
Spreading lies
Hes the bad businessman
Does his business while he can
He just does his business bad.

Hes a clown
Gonna get bounced around
If he dont keep his business underground
Hes a player
And everytime he deals a round
Its just a bad hand
What a bad man.
Beware of what he sells
Surely go straight to hell.
Taint no bottom in that wishing well.


That's timely.

Hell lyrics:

In the afterlife
You could be headed for the serious strife
Now you make the scene all day
But tomorrow therell be hell to pay

People listen attentively
I mean about future calamity
I used to think the idea was obsolete
Until I heard the old man stamping his feet.

This is a place where eternally
Fire is applied to the body
Teeth are extruded and bones are ground
Then baked into cakes which are passed around.

Beauty, talent, fame, money, refinement
Top skill and brain
But all the things you try to hide
Will be revealed on the other side.

Now the d and the a and the m
And the n and the a
And the t and the i-o-n
Lose your face, lose your name
Then get fitted for a suit of flame

I'll share a live youtube video of them in New York last year playing Bad Businessman and then you can watch an MTV video of them doing Hell.

Let these songs serve as a warning to all of you Bad Businessmen out there...

A Riddle...

I have a riddle for you.

What do you get when you excitedly pick out four artichokes from Trader Joe's (because your kids have never tried them, but have heard about them), trim and steam them and serve them with melted butter?

Do you give up? All right, I'll tell you. You get four artichokes all for you because no one even wants to try them.

Yes, thank you, they were delicious (over a few days) and the non-foodies, whom I adore and love with all my being, don't know what they were missing.

My Kids are Hippies

My kids are hippies. They are free and fun and feel comfortable in the dirt. They love nature, they have sympathy for animals. They feel protective of Mother Earth. They cry about poverty and injustice.

All of that is true. But, I must say there's a bit of a rigidity in there somewhere. They're not completely live-and-let-live, as much as we try to instill that very loving virtue in them. Frankly, they're kind of uptight about MY HAIR!

I have almost always had long hair, because I'm a bit of hippie myself. It kind of went along with the territory. If you can imagine a tall, angry, long haired teenage girl who wore embroidered gauze shirts while Reagan was in office, you pretty much have an accurate image of me in the 80's. How fun was that? I knew the Brazilian rain forest was being cut down to make room for cattle grazing so people could have their Big Macs, but my peers didn't seem to be too interested in that. Huh. Go figure...

My husband wore an army jacket and also had long hair, because he was cool like that.

When my kids were babies, I either had my hair up in a twist with hair sticks or clips, or up in a pony tail. If I had it down, it got in the way of our marathon nursing sessions. Did you know that an infant can nurse for 45 minutes, take a 10 minute break and then want to nurse again? No? Well, they can. Any way, mine did. I was of the belief that what a baby wants is what they need. They don't know about manipulation or the idea that they should be more independent. Who thinks like that any way? Shouldn't a baby be dependent and feel that constancy and trust so that they can become independent when they feel ready? Isn't that the path to independence? I thought so. If they wanted to nurse, they needed to nurse. If they wanted to be held, they needed to be held. Case closed.

My kids were used to my hair being up. My son particularly would get upset if it was down. A little bit uptight there, I think. A little bit possessive and territorial about what is after all my hair. I know he just was in love with his mommy. Mommy looks like that, that and that. But, not like that.

I don't want to have long hair. I grew it out for a couple of years to give to the Pantene Beautiful Lengths program that collects donated hair and turns it into wigs for women undergoing chemotherapy. I felt good doing that. It was easy and then I got a cute haircut. I haven't been back for a haircut since and the kids were thankful that my hair was growing back out. Lately, I've been talking about getting a haircut again.

My kids are not having it! "NO!! Don't cut your hair!" "NO--Mom, you can't cut your hair!!" they both wail. My husband gets in on it too. "I don't think you should cut your hair." But, he says that calmly, even if he's also wailing inside.

Hippies, the lot of them.

You're Going to Make What?!, or Why There are Two Parents...

I heard my son and husband talking very animatedly in the kitchen the other day. "Yeah!! mumble, mumble...OK! Yeah, that would be great!! mumble, mumble." I didn't catch it all, but they sounded very happy.

Later, I asked my son what they were talking about. Somehow I thought geometry was involved. I thought I had heard my husband saying something about angles.

"Dad and I were talking about how we're going to build a big trebuchet." "How big?", I asked nervously. "Oh, about 8 feet--it's going to be great!!", my son told me very enthusiastically. Huh. 8 feet. That sounds powerful.

I won't build 8 foot trebuchets. Not only that, but when my kids were babies, I didn't toss them above my head and catch them. No, I cradled them gently in my arms and sang them lullabies. And, I didn't wrestle them in the bed--at least not as long as my husband was around. I nursed them back to sleep laying next to me. Also, I have not introduced my little children to power drills or power sanders as my husband has. Instead, I've given them homemade play dough scented with lavender oil, and several different types of crayons.

My husband and I have different approaches around here--and both are necessary for our kids. Thank God for a crazy father who will toss the kids, wrestle, help them help him build stuff, and this summer, build a giant trebuchet.

Does our park allow 8 foot trebuchets? It won't let the neighborhood dogs take a walk...

Happy Valentine's Day!

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I hope you are either with the people you love today, or you're doing something you love today. Either way, it's still all about love...

The homeschooling Valentine's Day party was a huge success. The kids delivered valentines to each other's decorated bags.



Let's look in the bag, and see what's there.



Let's look closer...



These kids love each other and it shows. Sometimes you can measure love in glitter alone--look at how sparkly that all is! Look at the pencils, the hearts, the handwritten notes. The kids played games together and ate treats and went home happy.

I hope you find happiness today too.

I love you husband, and kids. Happy Valentine's Day to you! God only knows what I'd be without you...

The Making of Kimchi, a Photo Essay

Well, I made the kimchi. I used the recipe I found in the great traditional foods cookbook, Nourishing Traditions, by Sally Fallon. and had one modification in that I used 2 teaspoons of red chili paste instead of the red pepper flakes--next time I'll use the flakes. Oh, I couldn't find Napa cabbage either, so I used bok choy instead. There are all sorts of vegetables and even fruits that can be made into kimchi, so I felt OK about that substitution.

What is kimchi? A mainstay of Korean cookery, it is a fermented, intensely flavored cabbage condiment. It is made in a similar way as sauer kraut, but is full of ginger and garlic and has a tangy, spicy taste. Because it's fermented, it is full of probiotics and helps with digestion. Why am I making it? Because I don't want to spend around $8 a jar for the very good kind of kimchi that I've gotten at Whole Foods...

Look what my husband got me for my birthday.

It's a crock! And, I mean that in only the best way possible. In this very countrified 1980's crock, I can make as much kimchi as I want.




See the pretty decal on the side?



It was this, for 5 bucks at Goodwill, or a Harsch fermenting crock for over 100 dollars...Say what?!



Beautiful, isn't it? Oh well, I can easily forgive my crock the cutesy little flowers at the top. I will defile it with stinky cabbage and that's just going to have to be OK.

Let's look at what I used to make kimchi.

Here's the whole group of ingredients: Bok choy, green cabbage, carrots, daikon radish, scallions, ginger, garlic, kosher sea salt, red chili paste.

Look how great all of these veggies look. Doesn't this all look so healthy?

To make kimchi, you have to salt the cabbage and other vegetables, which inhibits the growth of bad bacteria that would rot the vegetables. What will happen instead is lactic acid fermentation which preserves the veggies and has all sorts of healthful benefits to me, my gut and the billions of micro flora that are always having a party in my intestinal tract. (yours too, by the way...) Par-tay!!

You shred the veggies, salt them and then add the flavorings--garlic, ginger and the chili paste. Mush it, mash it and the salt will begin to draw out the juices from the vegetables.

I got tired of mashing at this point and recruited my husband--even though he thinks kimchi is completely heinous. Love is expressed in many ways, isn't it?

Here, we're pretty much done. See all of the juices that have been drawn out? The vegetables will remain submerged under all of that and will ferment in a few days time.

Here's the kimchi in the crock and...well, it looks, uh, kind of...well, perhaps not so palatable. I will admit that.

Blech...

It's a good thing that kimchi is not about looking, it's about tasting. And, I tasted it on Monday and again on Tuesday and it is already delicious. Crispy, yet softened up some, juicy, gingery, garlicky, and spicy. Yum.

I've made kefir, yogurt, kombucha tea and now kimchi. My journey into whole, fermented or cultured traditional foods is expanding. I think I'm going to try to make cheese next. Ricotta is supposed to be easy. I'll let you know.

NOTE: I forgot to add this picture that shows my creative daughter's idea for what to do with discarded carrot tops. That girl has an eye.

The Melt

Here you see the melt. So, that means that my husband has finally started riding his bike to work again. It has just been too cold, and while my husband usually still rides even during the winter, the arctic weather we've been having has been too much even for him.

You know what I did yesterday...I didn't buy anything new!! Still!!!

I just thought I'd throw that out there in keeping with the original purpose of this blog. We're still not buying it.

Date Night

My husband and I have a date tonight. Can you even believe that?! I can't. Our lifestyle is so simple and we're both homebodies--perfectly happy to do stuff with each other and the kids around the house. But, tonight we have a date.

We're going out to dinner, haven't figured out where yet, and then to a play at a local theater. Doesn't that sound like a proper date? It is!

I don't live near my family. We're all within a couple of hours of each other, but not quite close enough to have them babysit frequently. And, when they were babies and toddlers, I nursed my kids constantly and neither one of us in the nursing dyad felt comfortable apart--that darned attachment thing...So, we never really established a babysitter. My husband and I never got into the routine of a date night.

What will I wear? I don't think I can quite get away with my jeans. Black pants and a blouse of some sort?

When my husband and I do go on a date, we get relaxed and happy and giggly and crack each other up and laugh--a lot.

We should do that more...

Hey, friends in my homeschooling group--how about a babysitting co-op? Who wants to trade with me? We'll watch the kids while you go have a proper date. Any takers?