Outside, After a Rain

One day, after a hard rain, we came outside to dig, build, weed, and play in the spring garden.

Cherry blossom snow

C building a lean-to with sticks

Beautiful blossoms on the chocolate vine

Hello, little cat!

(This was meant to illustrate the lovely little leaf emerging from our baby fig tree, but our cat also wanted to be in the photo. Behind her is our new Aronia bush, with blueberry bush against the wall of the garage. Can't wait for fruit season!)

Injera

Last summer, I introduced you to Doughy, our wild yeast sourdough culture. Doughy, who lives in a quart jar in our fridge, has been doing great and making us many fine loaves of bread. Recently I've discovered another great way to use Doughy... making injera bread!

Alanna and I first tried Ethiopian food nearly 10 years ago. For me, it was love at first bite. I especially enjoyed the spongy, sour flatbread called injera. I tried a couple times to make it at home, but it was never as good as the injera available at an Ethiopian restaurant--until Sandor Ellix Katz's amazing book, Wild Fermentation, came to my rescue.

To make injera,

• Mix a cup of sourdough culture with 2.5 cups water, 1 cup teff flour and 1 cup whole wheat flour. 
• Cover it with a cloth and let it ferment on the counter for ~24 hours. 
• The next day it will look bubbly, yeasty and smell delightfully sour. 
• Right before cooking time, whisk in a half teaspoon of salt and two tablespoon of white flour. This extra bit of flour makes the yeasts very happy and will make your finished injera more sour and bubbly.

To cook, pour the batter in to a nonstick skillet over medium heat. Swirl it around "crepe-style" to cover the pan and form a thin cake. Cover the pan and wait for about 3 minutes. That's it. Remove the injera, wrap it in a cloth and start cooking the next one. There is no need to flip injera. 

Delicious!

Easter

For the first time, C&D enjoyed their Easter egg hunt in the sun. No rain jackets required this year!

  
C's attire of choice was her brand-new bathing suit (augmented with tights and sweater).

D raced through the yard, eager to keep up, but he didn't find quite as many eggs as his sister.

That didn't stop him from enjoying his spoils. As soon as the chocolate Easter egg was discovered, it was rapidly devoured.

Later, we enjoyed Easter dinner, followed by ice cream, outside on the back deck with friends--the perfect way to end a sunny Easter Sunday.

Daddycation

When Alanna and her friend went away on their writing retreat, C, D and I stayed home and had a Daddycation. Inspired by a Sparkle Story of the same name, we spent the weekend doing lots of fun, new and special things.

Saturday was sunny and warm so we spent most of the day outside. In the morning we went to a park near C's school for some playtime and tree climbing. After that we went out to lunch and feasted on vegetarian Vietnamese food.

On Sunday morning, which was drizzly and chilly, we went to the Museum of Flight. It was our first time there and we didn't really know what to expect, but it was AMAZING!!! We saw hot air balloons, helicopters, flying cars, jet packs, hang-gliders, space shuttles, and, of course, tons and tons of planes large and small. It was a blast and we can't wait to go back.

Jets and a helicopter:

In the space exhibit:

C on the hang-glider simulator:

This main room has over 40 different airplanes:

The Amazing Flying C!

 

D in the cockpit! 

Away

The first thing I saw this morning when I opened my window was a bald eagle perched on a pole, head turning slowly, constantly, surveying the vast sea.

 The pole, sans eagle

I wish I could wake up to this sight every morning... but obviously, I am not at home. This weekend, a friend and I went away, just the two of us, to a marvelous beach house for a writing retreat. It is only the second time I've been away from the children overnight. Though I missed them (and Brett), we really had a grand time.

We camped out in the living room with our laptops, listening to the Head and the Heart on Pandora, writing (I'm now about 1/3 of the way through the second draft of my novel!). Whenever I'd get stuck trying to come up with the perfect word or sentence, I could just look out the window to watch the swooping sea birds, or the rippling blue ocean.

We walked down to a farm store and came back along the beach. We took off our shoes to feel sand between our toes.

We cooked dinner and lingered over our meal for a good hour (!), with a glass of wine (!!).

Now we are back. Now the work week begins. But we will start it refreshed, filled up with the memories of salty sea air and good food cooked together and words written well. Tomorrow when I wake, that bald eagle, miles away, may once more be perched on the pole, surveying the beach morning.


Someday, I'm sure, I'll see him again.

Five

Five years ago today, my daughter was born.

Five years, in child-terms, is a long time. Long enough for me to forget many of the details, but of course there is much I still remember.

I remember going for walks while pregnant, on a ridge above the shining blue lake. It was an unseasonably balmy February that year. Sometimes I would sit on the deck reading, my shirt pulled up to let the sun warm my belly, and the baby would jab my ribs in a most tender and celebratory way.

-2 weeks old

I remember what a wordless incredible joy it was, after nine months of waiting, to discover our beautiful girl, to hold her--her!--in my arms. I remember the relief that labor was over, the exhaustion from it. I remember how I sang to her (just me, Brett was too choked up): May all your days be gold, my child. I remember the palpable exhilaration and bliss of everyone in the room: our midwives, and our doula, and us of course.

One day old

But oddly enough, one of my clearest memories from the day she was born was eating a sandwich.

I'd had this plan: I would bake a chocolate cake. It would be my labor project. As it baked, it would fill the air with its irresistible aroma, and it would be the first thing I ate as I held her, a sweet celebration of her birth.

Well. I did bake a cake as I went into labor. But she was not born that night. Or the next. The chocolate cake languished as labor stretched on and on. And when she was born I was ravenous for something hearty and satisfying, something that the empty sweetness of cake could not provide. So instead, I ate half of a tempeh sandwich that Brett had made for lunch. It must have had a tomato on it, because I remember it being soggy. It was the first of many, many meals that I'd eat one-handed while nursing. But it was perfect.

And now she is five.

One year old

Two years old

 

Three years old

 

Four years old

Pretty much five years old

She sings her brother to sleep.
She wakes up cranky many mornings.
She feels deeply the beauties and injustices of the world.
She wants everything she does not have.
She is the keeper of trees and flowers.
She likes everything to be just so.
She is very frustrated when things are not just so.
She wears dresses most everyday.


She is my daughter, and I love her so.

Happy birthday, my darling C.

Happy Valentine's Day!

C composed this little poem for her father's valentine. "Daddy will love it," she says. I think that's a sure bet.

Wishing you all a love-ly Valentine's Day!