All Cheese Dinner

What the kids are watching these days

2012-02-01T09:29:00.001-06:00

Last night Cora and I were watching TV - she has been adamant about watching House of Anubis on Nick. It seems to be a kind of Dark Shadows for middle schoolers (putting her far below the demographic) - very convoluted plot lines involving kids at a British boarding school and ancient Egyptian curses, myths, and symbology. Frankly, I didn't think she was really following it. But then I asked a question, and she unfurled the whole plot, and while she didn't understand all of it, she had all the plot points nailed in place and even some good insights into character motivation. Huh.

And then a commercial for the latest Twilight saga DVD came on. We see Jacob saying "I know what I have to do." Next clip he is running, shirtless, through the woods.

Cora: "Really? That's what he had to do? Take off his shirt and go running?" Then, a moment later: "Can I have that movie when I'm 12?"

Yes. Yes you can. Right after we watch every episode of Buffy.

Winter is Winter, as it turns out

2012-01-21T18:46:00.000-06:00

Yes, we had a lovely reprieve in December and early January, as temperatures soared in the high 30s and the snow stayed away.

Yes, I know we need snow and ice and cold and even disgusting gray slush to maintain the natural order.

And yet...well, this picture from January 2011 still best expresses my feelings towards the Midwest winter.

(I'm not sure which expression I love more - Cora's SnowZombie face, or Trout's apparent protest to having to wear a headband.)

Onward

2012-01-08T22:51:00.000-06:00

The Christmas season went by fast, for the most part. As usual, there were things I meant to bake that I never did. Cards, such as they were, did not go out as early as hoped for. Fewer things were handmade than I intended. Looking back I see that I did a terrific job of managing Cora's expectations, and a really lousy job with my own. Looking farther back I see that as a theme of the past two years. Will 2012 be different? We shall see.

I believe the common approach to the new year is to square up the previous years resolutions. I did part of this for publication elsewhere, but here's the brief assessment, with the goal followed by the result:

Dye sock yarn with Kool-Aid. Knit socks. – dyed worsted yarn instead, gave for Christmas presents, kept some for myself for a new hat. One new recipe a week. 52 recipes. – probably accomplished this one – didn’t track well though; when I got to the end of March and had already tried 21 new recipes, I stopped listing them. Write more. Publish more. – wrote little, published one poem (frankly, only submitted to 12 publications over the whole year), but also several essays for the Simple, Good, and Tasty web site and blog posts. Make cards. Send birthday cards. – total fail Read more. 60 books. – read maybe 20 books ( for adults) in 2011, but dozens of articles and magazines, plus many, many, many picture books. My all time reading record is about 120 books in one year, so 60 seemed a reasonable goal. Make a quilt, start to finish. – yes! four new tops completed, one completed, though technically quilted by someone else, but it was finished and under the tree for Cora this year. Finish four unfinished projects. 1 per season. – an abandoned scarf became an earwarmer, I had two old quilt tops quilted, and I finished the tree skirt I started eight years ago. Journal. At least a list. At least 5x/week. – total fail, even if I stretch to counting blogging as journaling. Can only claim victory if a Facebook status update counts as a journal entry!

The goals for 2012 are very similar. I still hope to send birthday cards (something I have not managed since Cora was born, but that was nearly six years ago and I really think it now makes a poor excuse). I hope to read more than last year. I'm sticking with the same cooking goal and also hope to finish some unfinished projects. I have a collection of batik fabric I have never cut into. This is the year. I hope to write more - and to finally finish NaNoWriMo - and to send writing out more often.

I would like 2012 to be kind to me. I hope to find this year more sustaining. I hope to leave a lot of the sadness I've been collecting behind. Or at least get the scales to tip in the other direction more often.

An artist

2011-12-03T18:44:00.000-06:00

Cora and I have been making things. Fun things. Cool things. She has an amazing hunger for arts and crafts and baking - where does she get that? *ahem*

She's at her little art table now, with paper, scissors, watercolors, google eyes, a very large bottle of glue, glitter glue, ribbon, colorful duct tape, foam stickers and playdough. Earlier, she cut out snowflakes. Then she made me a playdough sculpture with red duct tape and a sparkly foam heat. Before that it was a craft with fabric and fabric markers.

She's standing up, mostly, only sitting down for certain parts of her work. She found last year's one-piece pajamas and they barely fit her, but she is wearing them. Purple with silver flowers. A t-shirt underneath. A ponytail leftover from ballet this morning. She does something on her page - paints something or glues on a google eye or rubs some glitter glue over something - pauses and looks at what she's done, then surveys her table to see what else she has to work with. She makes a decision about what comes next. She works slowly and intently. She knows exactly what she is doing.

I do not have anywhere near enough craft supplies for this girl. We have a pink crate that we keep everything in, and she can easily deplete it in a weekend. I love this of course, but also am still figuring out what to do with it all, how long to keep creations for, which craft supplies are worth keeping a larger stash of, and most of all what I might do to a) find more space for her supplies and b) find a way to keep up with her supply consumption!

But I love seeing her serious face as she does her art, as she puts it. The way she is clearly thinking about the aesthetics of her creation, considering options, pursuing an inner vision. She gets frustrated sometimes when the finished product doesn't match that inner vision - haven't we all be there before? We talk a lot about frustration being a part of the process, a part of being an artist, something that you learn from and use to spur yourself on, not something to spend time feeling bad about or saying mean things to yourself about.

She says she wants to be an artist. I say she already is one.

A new milestone

2011-11-29T22:07:00.000-06:00

I've read about this moment on other blogs, but it came sooner than I expected it would: Cora asked me not to write about something she said - not on Facebook or anywhere on the computer, she specified. She knew she had said something funny - she meant it to be funny - but she said she would be embarrassed if anyone other than me and her dad knew about it.

However, she gave me full permission to share her idea that we make our family Advent wreath out of teeth. Which, she is sure, is what the Tooth Fairy does.

She also is hoping to spread the word about next weekend being Eat New Foods weekend. They don't have to be entirely new; a new preparation will also fit the bill. For example, as I have never served poached eggs, they would count as a new food. They are, in fact, first on her list of foods we should eat. New Foods weekend will be a challenge for us - we are at a disadvantage geographically, for one thing. And while it would make it easier if we included the vast realm of foods we have never served by choice (cheese in a can, shelf-ready bacon, frozen breakfast pastries...), I am not prepared to open that can of worms. (By coincidence, something else we have never eaten.)

A sample list of projects

2011-11-18T12:02:00.000-06:00

Recently, I pawed through all my fabric, looking for two things: neutrals and an advent calendar kit I bought about two years ago. Found some of one, not a sign of the other. Which means I put the kit somewhere "safe" and/or "easy to remember". Ha!

In the process, I found a number of projects I really should finish. I thought it might be fun to list them. I reserve the right to make this a partial list so as not to scare anyone. Including myself.

I couldn't have made this list, or even looked through all that, anytime in the last several months. It would have been too hard, because I wouldn't have had any time to devote to anything. Now, though, I am making some space in my schedule so that I can do things like this again. Because, as you think I might be able to remember, few things make me as happy as making something.

Cora's sweater - 1-1/2 arms to go!
Knit market bag - handles needed
Cowl - yeah, maybe 1/4 done? But it's for me, so there's no time pressure
Noro socks - same as above.
Christmas quilt from an old block exchange (how old? I was still stitching by hand) - need two new blocks and then I can, you know, put the top together and so forth
Couple small quilt tops that need to be made into actual quilts
and a couple more quilt projects still in the works at various stages

Despite all those, and the secret ones, I would still really like to find that kit!

What?!

2011-11-16T20:38:00.000-06:00

Monday, someone said something to me that both simultaneously filled me with excitement and panic: "Christmas is only about five weeks away."

I should have known, given the uptick in commercials devoted to toys and electric shavers and diamond jewelry (only one category in that list is of any interest to anyone at my house - can you guess which one?). But immediately my mind was swirling with ideas and questions about baking and making and matching nice gifts to nice people.

Now it is Wednesday night. I have an excellent start on a battery of lists. That always makes me feel like I am really accomplishing something! I also finally located the box full of felt cut-outs for our tree skirt. For about eight years it has gone unadorned, but I swear that this year it will have some trees, stars, deer, birds, and rabbits on it!

Suspicions

2011-11-08T22:15:00.000-06:00

1. My days must contain fewer hours than the days of some other people.
2. Our babysitter thinks all we ever eat is mac and cheese.
3. My sewing machine is secretly trying to commit suicide by getting me to kill it (you know, like on the cop shows when the bank robber won't put his gun down and makes the officers shoot him because he just doesn't believe he has any other choice).
4. There are at least four different ways in which I cannot afford to continue with this back-to-school idea.
5. The Universe is relieved I am finally picking up its messages.

Dreams...

2011-10-23T14:58:00.000-05:00

Twice in the last week I've dreamed about making a quilt.

The first dream concerned a quilt with a traditional star block done in Kansas Troubles-like fabrics (not a type of fabric I typically work with!).

The second was about having a stack of really colorful fabrics and needing to make an applique quilt of some kind. Just as I settled on butterflies and started drafting my pattern, I woke up.

Is it a coincidence that I have in my sewing machine upstairs a half-done quilt and have been saying for days and days, "I'd like to have a chance to sew today"? That since starting to work at the local quilt shop I nearly constantly have fabrics and designs and colors and ideas dancing in my brain?

Surely not!

Nothing ventured, nothing gained; Or, heaping high the plate and hoping for the best

2011-10-19T09:28:00.000-05:00

NaNoWriMo 2011 starts in just over 12 days. While it is true I completely flamed out in 2010 and never wrote beyond week two (I blame the moving), and it is also true that my participation in Camp NaNoWriMo this past August was largely an imaginary endeavor, the third truth is that I for sure will not write anything if I don't sign up at all. At this point I would rather take the hit to my pride and admit I didn't finish my 50,000 words than not attempt it at all.

So, put the coffee on and warm up the laptop. I'll be doing NaNoWriMo again this year.

(And put some beer in the fridge, too, okay?)

The trouble with the buffet

2011-09-29T14:29:00.000-05:00

I talked with my mom on the phone this morning, trying to sort through the difficult choices and dilemmas that life has been sending my way lately, and she said that maybe the Universe is sending me a buffet of choices so that I can better understand what I really like to do.

I can see the wisdom in this. But I still kind of wish I had a continental breakfast menu and was choosing between the bagel and the sweet roll.

Of course, sometimes a buffet is not as broad a choice as it seems. A seafood buffet, for example, would still probably only be offering me two choices that I would be interested in. Or, you know, sometimes you look at the buffet and wonder how long that food has been sitting there.

Don't you love how the further you extend the metaphor, the more ridiculous it becomes?

I remember when Cora was around three years old and, faced with two choices and wanting neither, she would cry, "These are NOT my options!"

Possibly both waving and drowning

2011-09-19T21:06:00.000-05:00

When things get very busy, I start to feel a little panicky. A little like the walls are closing in and all my chances to do anything important to me are fast vanishing.

Maybe it's the two part-time jobs, the part-time going to school, the full-time mothering and wife-ing and general holding-the-homestead-togethering, combined with having a kid who is in school full time for the first time in her life.

She comes home and she wants to spend time with us. She has an agenda for us, an imaginary play game that she cares very much about playing. After being on my feet for a full day of work, then taking care of emails and work for online clients, bolting down a dinner, I do still want to have the energy to be Ms. Flower the art teacher for a 20 minute bout of coloring.

But I also want to take a nap. To lie down and stare at the ceiling. To read a grown up book. To knit for a little or do some sewing or maybe even catch my mental breath enough to try to write something worthwhile.

In the classroom

2011-09-07T09:26:00.000-05:00

It is strange to be in the classroom as a student again. It is strange in two ways. First, of course, I am now more used to being on the other side of the teacher's desk. Second, and more strangely, it feels pretty natural - maybe not so surprising. I did, after all, spend 19 years as a student and only 8 as a teacher.

Some things are the same as they were for much of my scholastic career. I can't believe other people aren't doing the reading, don't bring their books to class, and never have anything to say when the professor asks a question. I get impatient for the teacher to move on to the next point; I wish the pace would either pick up or else that there would be more opportunities to move the conversation deeper.

I'm taking two classes. One is Introduction to Education (taught by a graduate teaching assistant - he has a lot of experience with elementary and high school teaching, but not much at all with college students, and he often puts himself in a position to have that lack of experience taken advantage of) and the other is Education of the Exceptional Student. Good material, interesting, but we're really just hovering on the surface.

I'm not really the type of student who likes to hang out on the surface. When it seems clear that that is where we are staying, I have a tendency to tune out and read ahead. This has its pros and cons. Luckily, I have 19 years of experience with the pros and cons.

Something completely different, indeed

2011-08-26T10:27:00.000-05:00

It has been a month since I last posted. A strange month. Cora's time in daycare ended and she had a month of real summer break before starting kindergarten this week. I decided to go back to school to earn another degree in what I am thinking of as my personal Start a New Career Initiative (since I've been unable to find a position in my former career, which breaks my heart), and in the last month I applied, was accepted, registered for classes, bought textbooks (yep, they are still expensive), and started classes.

And I'm still looking for a job to bring in some sort of income, too (believe me, I see the irony of going back to school and thus spending more money at the same time). But, finally there has been some promising development on that front.

Of course, the real story is that we have a school-ager in the house now! Chances are that very soon a typical weekday night will find Chris doing his prep and grading while Cora and I do homework.

Crazy!

Report on Girl Week

2011-07-26T22:59:00.000-05:00

Girl Week was good. It was beastly hot and humid, but the girl and I do know how to be on our own. Our days were busy with daycare, swimming lessons, VBS for her, and sweltering and running errands for me. On Friday, we had nothing going on. I'd planned some errands I thought would be fun: visiting our community garden plot, going to the library, the butcher, picking up a few groceries to make a good welcome-home dinner for Daddy.

She wanted nothing to do with my plan. She didn't want to get dressed. She didn't want to leave the house. She didn't want to do anything but watch some PBS shows, watch a DVD, play by herself in her room, and do some puzzles and coloring. I was very frustrated, but at the same time recognized that none of our errands were truly necessary.

It was, finally, a beautiful day, a perfect temperature for me, sunny, nice breeze, no rain coming, and I was really looking forward to being outside (a rather rare thing in the height of summer). But, she needed to stay in, and so we did, and we still had a nice day. Just the two of us.

Girl Week / Heat & Humidity Week

2011-07-17T11:12:00.000-05:00

Cora and I begin Girl Week this week, a week I thought would be filled with fun summery activities, but which may in fact be filled with basic tropical jungle survival skills. Who knew northeastern North Dakota could reach a heat index of 110 with humidity to match?

NOT ME.

Well, we are starting with sitting with some DVDs and ice water and thinking of meals that require no cooking that we both will like and won't be embarrassed to admitting eating (i.e. no ice cream for lunch).

How will Girl Week turn out? Which of the photos below will end up as our representative image? I'll let you know.

Yes, I knit a dog.

2011-06-23T08:43:00.000-05:00

A while ago a friend gave me a copy of Knit Your own Dog, a book I really wanted. of course, the moment it arrived there was someone else who was very interested in it. Cora looked at every page, but really there was no contest. She wanted a poodle. And she wanted it to be pink. Pink and white. With specific directions about which parts should be which colors. I read through the directions, tried to visualize them all, and it turned out it was possible to do it the way she requested.

I do like her expression.

A few weeks later we trekked down to Fargo (where the yarn stores are) and I bought the yarn - a pink boucle and some white Cascade. And I was ready to begin! One of the first things I discovered is that boucle yarn and I are not tempramentally suited to each other. Then, at the point where the two sides of the body are joined up to make the neck and head, I forgot one of my own cardinal rules of knitting: Just Trust the Directions. I thought the directions were wrong. I thought I had it figured out how it should go.

Oh, I was so wrong.

Does she stand at a jaunty angle because she has great confidence?
Or because I might have made some mistakes?

To fix my mistake, once I realized it, would have meant ripping out 10 rows of boucle madness. I set the dog aside for two months. Last week Cora asked about her poodle; she knew I had started it. So, two days ago I took another look at it, decided how I would "fix" my mistake without ripping things out. It meant having the "wrong" side of the stockinette stitch facing out on the belly, but I decided I could live with that. I knit the head, learning and using the loopy stitch, which was fun, and then last night I stitched the whole dog together and stuffed it.

Pippsi's good side.

I propped her up (there was never any question of the dog's gender, given who would name and own her) on the kitchen island, took some photos, and left her standing right where Cora's cereal bowl normally sits.

Happy with her dog!

This morning, Cora got up, dressed, went out to the kitchen, and then the squeals of joy commenced. She named the dog Pippsi, which I think suits her quite nicely.

Cora and Pippsi making faces.

Summer: part one

2011-06-21T10:34:00.000-05:00

Swimming lessons are summer's first order of business.

Finally, a bike of her own to ride!

Still not crazy about the helmet.

Summer solstice is here already - somehow I missed that six months in our new city had already gone by, and now the days already going to start shortening, though I doubt we will really notice it for another month or two. This has been Introduction to Kindergarten month, with Cora in a kindergarten class for the first half of every day, at the same school where she will start in the fall. It has been great - she loves it, especially the daily trips to the school library and getting to bring a book home for the night. Her reading is picking up speed, too. We've already done one round of swimming lessons, with round two scheduled for July. Yesterday we signed her up for a week long ballet camp, and in late July she'll get a chance to try out gymnastics, too.

July and August stretch ahead with great promise - I'm able to take some time off and concentrate on reading, writing, and sewing...and unpacking. We still have many boxes surrounding us. Plus, there are trips to the Y's pool to me made, picnics to be eaten, a county fair to visit, road trips to take, gardens to weed, and lots of fresh vegetables from our new CSA to eat! There are a lot of adjustments in living farther north - while most of them are winter-related, summer is also different. Having to wait to plant until the first week of June. The CSA won't start until the last week of June. The farmer's market just started last weekend. But, we're adjusting. We're doing just fine.

People who love books: a note of caution to Summer Reading Programs

2011-06-11T10:00:00.000-05:00

This is me at Chaucer's Bookstore in Santa Barbara, CA. I worked there for 2 years in college - second best job I ever had for the job itself, best one when you consider that I met Chris there. Bookstores are great and terrible places to work when you love books. I don't think I need to explain that.

It turns out that Cora is also a lover of books and stories and really anything that has the smallest shred of narrative attached to it. She is starting to read a little for herself, and she loves looking at books by herself, and of course we read to her. Lots. Sometimes more than we might choose on our own.

On library trips, she maxes out her card. Her Intro to Kindergarten class goes to the school library every morning and each child checks out a book. Yesterday, the boy she shares a locker with accidentally took her book home. Oh, the tears! I asked her what the title was, thinking we could find it at the municipal library, and she cried, "I don't know! I can't read that well yet!" Do you know how hard it is to try to find the title for a book that has a purple cover with a cat whose tail makes a C on it? I sincerely hope that boy brings the book back on Monday!

So, it seemed like a natural thing to do, to sign her up for the Summer Reading Program at the local library.

Except that Summer Reading Programs are largely designed for kids who don't read or whose parents don't read to them much.

For example, a child can earn a coupon for a dish of ice cream for every five books they read or that parents read to them. Cora could be earning a coupon every day, were I to fill out her sheet honestly. On another sheet, you cross out an icon for every 15 minutes the child reads or you read to your child. Every 16 icons you earn a button, at 32 you win a ticket in the toy prize lottery (there are Barbie dolls at stake!). Again, if our sheet were an accurate reflection, we could cross off at least 12 icons a week.

So, why not fill out the sheets accurately, honestly? I remember doing a March of Dimes read-a-thon one summer. I must have been about 11 years old, give or take a year. I canvassed neighbors (who had no idea and pledged x amount of money per book I would read) and relatives (who knew better and pledged a flat dollar amount). I read lots of books. Some neighbors were appalled, some quizzed me on the titles, some were so aghast that I changed the sign-up sheet so they could give a flat amount (the $5 they anticipated shelling out instead of the $50 it turned out to be).

When it comes to reporting on reading, sometimes it is better to be modest. Especially if at the same time you keep your own list, in all its lengthy glory, to show off to people who will appreciate it, such as fellow readers and grandparents!

Two things I wish I had a photo of

2011-06-03T15:10:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I saw a girl, maybe eight, walking her little tan pug on a leash. She was also carrying an oboe.

This morning, a young woman on a white sidewalk with green, green grass to either side, halfway between her parked red bike and a yellow house; she had a red bike helmet and a bright orange dress - not neon, just bright.

One made me happy because of the juxtaposition, the other because of the colors.

New Evening Ritual

2011-05-29T20:13:00.000-05:00

Lately, in the evenings after dinner, something nice has been happening. Usually it starts with Cora playing her ukulele and making up a song (yesterday it was a song about going forward in time to Halloween and meeting your destiny in your costume), then she hands the uke off to Chris and dances as he plays. There is plenty of direction as to how fast, how slow, and whether or not it should sound like ballet music, and the dances are full of awesomeness.

Cora is also contemplating her future band. She says she still needs to think about her cool face and her cool moves. Tonight she mentioned the name of her band: Header Livered.

I like it.

Sunday Sauce: a photo essay

2011-05-12T08:59:00.000-05:00

Beneath my husband's German-Norwegian-Swedish exterior lurks a more Mediterranean heart. This past Christmas he received the Frankie's Sputino cookbook (really, much more than a cookbook), and we finally were able to clear away a weekend day to make the (cue the trumpets) Sunday Sauce with meatballs and braciola.

First there is the simmering of 13 cloves of garlic in a cup of olive oil. I know!

Four big cans of whole tomatoes get mushed up by hand - this is just one can.

The sauce begins...it cooks, all told, for almost five hours.

The braciola - pork shoulder steaks butterflied and stuffed
with provolone, parmesan, garlic, and parsley, then tied up.
Chris was impressed with my butcher-grade tying skills.

Into the pot for three hours.

Pure yummy.

Meatballs! - Though these are actually the meatballs
from the excellent blog Dinner: A Love Story.

After baking about 30 minutes they go into the sauce for about 30 more.

There was also bread.

Dinner itself.

After the sauce night we had the braciola shredded in sauce on farfalle the next night, and then the night after that I made a lasagna with the leftover meats and sauce that was really fabulous. And we ate it for lunch all week long. Making the sauce is a big time commitment, over the course of the week, it felt like we had in fact saved time.

Now she is 5!

2011-05-03T08:04:00.000-05:00

Who knew that this:

would become this:

so very quickly?

Nevermind - I wouldn't have believed it if you had told me.

Goodbye April

2011-04-30T07:55:00.000-05:00

The end of the month is here, and I see it has been a long time since I posted. April had its good moments (our trip to Minneapolis, getting the fish quilt underway), but it has also had a large number of steep plummets and it has left me mainly at the bottom in a dispirited heap. I find it hard to post at such times. I am hoping May will be better, or at least offer more reprieves.

Perhaps it has something to do with winter refusing to loosen its holds on North Dakota - in fact, the weather report says we may wake to an inch of snow tomorrow.

We have had a few sunny days in the past week, and some temperatures above 50. And before the temperatures rose we had some sunny mornings with beautiful sun streaming in through the big front window. It was a nice spot to sit and color in.

Cora working on a picture - no photos of the artwork are allowed until she's done.

Artwork from a different day. She drew the pteranadons freehand from a coloring page,
and then filled in the skeleton on her own - could I be more proud?

Fish Quilt (finally)

2011-04-10T22:40:00.000-05:00

I started a new quilt top tonight, even though I have yet to quilt the Circles top. But, things have been knocking around in my brain: blogs I've been reading, a book I bought, a book my mom sent me, and a pile of fabric that I bought in 2002.

Yep. The sales receipt is still in the bag with all the fabric, and it is from November 2002. There are a few fabrics I know I added to the bag later, but the core fabrics were all bought almost ten years ago. And I still love every single one of them. I have always wanted to turn them into a quilt for our bed; I last finished a quilt for our bed in 1997! But, I love the main fabric so much that I have always been reluctant to cut into it.

Or maybe I knew that I hadn't thought of the right project for it yet?

I've sketched out many ideas over the years, but none seemed quite right. I guess I still don't know if I have found the right one. But I do know that on Friday I realized I was ready to start cutting and sewing. I got a chance to start this afternoon, and then this evening I have a couple good hours to do some work.

I am working more improvisationally that I have in the past, and I love the blocks I have created so far. As I was working tonight I was wondering if I should feel a little guilty about getting back into quilting with a project for myself. believe me, Cora has noticed that while she has a couple quilts from Grandma, she does not have one from me. And I have fabric for a quilt for her. Okay, for two quilts for her. But there's something about making something for myself that feels right at this point, that feels almost like a necessary part of the process.

B-I-N-G-O: a photo essay

2011-04-03T11:02:00.000-05:00

Fridays are a good day for art projects at our house. Chris teaches in the morning and Cora and I are home. A good art project can take up that whole stretch of morning between Dinosaur Train and lunch. This past Friday I thought it would be fun to make our own bingo game. I was right.

I found some small pictures on the web and printed them for us to color in.
Then I created a blank card template in Word.

Then we cut apart our grid of pictures and pasted them onto the bingo card templates.
There were 24 squares to fill in on the template and 30 pictures,
so decisions had to be made.

The decisions were often difficult. Cora grouped hers into categories.
All the pictures under the "B" were Bad,
under the "G" were Good,
under the "I" were Items.
The "N" and "O" were a little more random.

One of my bingo cards. I made two so we could have a family game later.

Cora's bingo card. After making it, she also used it to tell a story.
The story included everything on the card.
It was a long story. And I loved it.

Next we needed a box to keep the calling pictures in.

Packing tape is great. I also used packing tape to "laminate" the bingo cards.

We cut squares of colored paper for the markers.

And took turns being the caller.

2011: taking stock of the first quarter

2011-04-02T22:03:00.000-05:00

I made some resolutions in January. I made them in keeping with my philosophy that this works best when I resolve to do things I really want to, but need a little extra motivation to do. Here's my new twist: reviewing my progress once a quarter. So, here we go.

Dye sock yarn with Kool-aid and knit socks: I've gathered all the supplies, but the time to do this has been hard to come by. I no longer have any long days without a small ~~hamperer~~ helper. This means I have to plan well for a day when nothing else really needs to be accomplished in the four hours I have in the morning.

One new recipe a week: At least 17 new recipes already made this year. I think it has actually been more, but I've been lax about writing them down. A lot of these have been curries, some breads, and things found on the internet.

Write more. Publish more: I have been writing more, but prose. I've been publishing short pieces on food and cooking online at Simple, Good, and Tasty. I've been sending poems out to magazines and competitions. I've written a couple poems, but not quite enough to be happy with.

Make and send birthday cards: A near total fail. I used to be very good at remembering to send cards to family and friends and I enjoyed doing it. But in the last four years I have had a hard time remembering - or, more accurately, remembering at the right time.

Read more: My goal for 2011 is 60 books, which is a fairly modest goal for me, but I am still losing ground. I find that when my emotions dip, so does my desire to read. I've read eight books this year. (Though, to be honest, I have read a ton of picture books, cover-to-cover browsed several cookbooks and knitting books, and read a lot of magazines...but, the goal is about books.)

Make a quilt, start to finish: Because I have not made a quilt in about five years. In the past three months I have finished a top, a smallish top for a wallhanging, but I think I am going to count it. Next up is to piece together some batting for it.

Finish four unfinished projects, one per season: In February I took an abandoned stub of a knit scarf and turned it into an earwarmer/headband for Cora. It turned out pretty well, and she was thrilled.

Whew. OK. On with the second quarter.

Cora quote of the day

2011-03-27T10:45:00.000-05:00

"I am curious and mysterious."

And she loves turnips.

Beignets: a (belated) photo essay

2011-03-26T12:57:00.000-05:00

New Orleans has taken hold of Cora's imagination in a way that has little to do with the actual city, or even Mardi Gras, and a lot to do with brass music and Disney's The Princess and the Frog. This morning she told me that she thinks we need to make gumbo, and that I have a "Tiana spirit" because I like to make things and cook. And, I was sent to the CD shelves on a mission for New Orleans music (thank you Dirty Dozen Brass Band).

I think it has been almost two months since the last time she watched the movie, but it has been only two weeks since I made beignets for the first time and we talked about mardi gras in New Orleans and Cafe du Monde, where Chris has been. The only time Cora and I have had beignets before was last January, when we went to California and my parents took us to Crystal Cove and the little restaurant on the beach, where we has what could well have been one of the best breakfasts of my life, thanks to the location, meal, and company. Except that Cora was too anxious to get to playing in the sand to eat anything and refused to even try the beignets!

Well, this time was different. Especially when I told her that, yes, she could eat as many as she wanted, even though they were covered in sugar, because they would be no good the next day. (Note to self: half recipe next time!) I think she ate at least eight of these that morning, and a couple more in the afternoon, when they were starting to fade. I used a recipe I found on epicurious.com for buttermilk beignets - it was incredibly easy, and fun, and delicious!

Looking for strength

2011-03-12T13:43:00.001-06:00

Thursday, as Cora and I walked from the garage to the house, she said to me, "You know, Mommy, just because a person doesn't do karate doesn't mean that person isn't strong."

Inside the house she showed me the karate moves she learned at school. Clearly, someone at school is taking karate and there has been much discussion and debate about these lessons. Cora is still more interested in getting into gymnastics lessons and swimming lessons, which also require you to be strong and to practice, but it has been interesting over the last couple days to see this fascination with martial arts.

A few days ago she wore all pink to school - pink leggings, pink socks, pink shoes, pink long-sleeved shirt - and declared herself the Pink Ninja. We talked about her cousins and aunt and uncle who all take tae kwon do. We talked about how her uncle is getting close to being a black belt, and how it takes a lot of work and practice to be really good at something. I suspect there is no pink belt, but don't tell Cora. Last night we all watched Kung Fu Panda for family movie night. She asked me to search for ninja videos on YouTube this morning, and we found some pretty amazing stuff. We emailed her favorite one to her uncle.

And then Cora wanted me to take her picture doing her best ninja move.

The pink ninja strikes with a smile.

We talk about the ways you can be strong - in your muscles, in your heart, in your brain. She consistently blows me away with the strength of her will and her emotions. And with how she already knows that it can be hard to be strong, to have strength, fortitude, endurance, tenacity. It strikes me that those are all words that also take some time to say. Even though "strength" is a single syllable, it moves your mouth around.

Yesterday on the phone a friend mentioned that she has always envied my strength, my ability to deal with the challenges of the past couple years, and that she has found it useful to see how I do that. But she also said that seeing me at times when the challenges nearly overwhelmed me has been useful, too, to see how strength can be overwhelmed and how it can rally.

I found this comforting and surprising. I have not felt particularly strong of late. I have not felt particularly adept at dealing with challenges. I have been slow to rally on many fronts. But, when I think about it, I can see where my strength has gone to, which fronts it has been fighting on, and that it is still there, after all. Just not where I am used to seeing it. And here is something a good friend can do for you: remind you of who you are, even when it might look a little different.

I don't take karate, but I am still strong.

Still winter.

2011-03-07T09:36:00.000-06:00

This photo, though taken in January, accurately represents our feelings about dipping back below zero here at the beginning of March. I had the unenviable task of explaining to Cora that here in the upper-upper Midwest, it will probably take us a month longer to get to spring than it took when we lived in Minneapolis. The news was not received well.It is still winter, but all we can think about is spring!

I am keeping my fingers crossed that we will get a community garden plot (currently #5 on the waiting list), and that Chris and I can get our act together enough to find or build a high, narrow table for a windowsill herb garden. I have been having pangs for our old backyard, which was not a perfect backyard and needed so much work every year, but still was our own backyard - the garden, the deck, the patio (o! the patio!), the pots where Cora's beloved chives and parsley grew, my beloved bleeding heart plant and the peonies. The lilac tree and the Baffin roses.

Oh, Spring. You are so far away and have so many ways to break my heart.

FFF: The Letter M

2011-03-04T17:18:00.000-06:00

Nora's theme today is the letter "M". My favorite M? My Mom! Here she is, last November, with Cora.

Imagination to Real Object

2011-03-01T07:50:00.001-06:00

I find that when I have frustration and turmoil in one part of my life, I most often compensate for that by making things: cooking, baking, sewing, knitting, etc. It is a good time for Cora to decide her dollies need a throne, because I will find a way to make one. It is a good time for Bon Appetit to declare they have the best-ever brownie recipe, because I will try it out. It is a good time for mutter paneer cravings!

Red onion and friends - ready for curry!

I tend not to examine this too closely. I know it has something to do with control and satisfaction and compartmentalization. It works for me. So, I have been in a frenzy of making for about a month now, you may have noticed.

Another dog.

Last weekend, I made progress on a couple sewing projects, and some knitting ones, and even some writing ones. But one in particular was special. I have a little muslin, drawstring project bag for knitting that I really like. But I tend to work on more than one project at a time, and I kept thinking maybe I should buy another one. Then I decided that was ridiculous, because I have muslin. Surely I could make something myself?

Hat from Noro Silk Garden yarn - love it!

And then I started thinking about how plain muslin is, and what could I do to enliven it? I remembered this beautiful poppy ribbon I bought, oh, maybe eight years ago, and never could bear to use. So I went upstairs and found the ribbon and the muslin and sketched out a pattern. Then I thought it could use a lining. I looked over at the bins of fabric, and there was a fabric, pressed up against the side of the bin, just the perfect fabric!

Once again neglected to take process photos -
having too much fun to go downstairs for the camera.

So, then I thought about how it would look if the lining were rolled down over the outside muslin, for extra color and to set off the ribbon. And what if the bottom of the bag was the lining fabric?

The colors are not a perfect match, but I like that.

And then I made the bag. The process wasn't perfect and one corner is a little goofy, but I love my project bag. I love that I figured out how to make it. I love the way it came together, from thinking about buying something, to making my own, better version. I love that I had the time available and that most of the materials were ones I've had for years, just waiting for the right project. Very satisfying!

Noro sock yarn in the bag - but I've ended up using size 0 dpns
instead of the single circular. Socks take me a long time.
More on that later.

Mittens & Playdough

2011-02-21T11:00:00.000-06:00

Cora and I both have been pursuing projects the past couple of days. I tackled my first pair of mittens, which went well. I think they are a little loose, but I haven't blocked them. The mittens have a peasant thumb, or "sore thumb" - it just kind of sticks out on the side. For years I did not understand how to pick up stitches, and had a number of ways of doing it, all wrong and awkward. But, I finally got it figured out and with each thumb I improved.

Then, of course, someone wanted me to knit her some mittens, too. I guessed at the modifications for sizing, and went to work. I finished the first after she went to bed, so I wanted to wait and make sure it fit before I started the other mitten. I also thought this would be a good opportunity to try some basic colorwork, and let her choose two colors for her mittens.

Meanwhile, Cora has alternated between two main activities. One is intensive doll play involving either tea parties or covering a doll with marker so she can be an alien - luckily, washable marker! Then she rubs teh marker off with a wet paper towel, and then creates gowns out of the damp, colored paper towels. The effect is actually remarkably beautiful, as the paper towel takes on a hand-dyed fabric look. But the tea parties has been my favorite, because every once in a while I stumble upon some dolls having a secret tea party in a quiet corner.

She has also been creating playdough scenes. First it was a sun, flower, and worm. Then this morning while I picked up an extra hour of sleep and Chris did some reading, she made a Halloween scene. She's very precise about what she wants and works with great concentration to make her scene match her idea.

Of course, a girl can only take so much activity before it is time to take a break.

Happy Valentine's Day! (photo essay edition)

2011-02-13T22:30:00.000-06:00

I made Cora a lion.

I think he's pretty awesome.

Cora and I made a cake. With sea-life sprinkles.
Because we love fish and dolphins and turtles and sharks and cake.

New motto. Working out okay so far.

Barettes for Cora, from Purl Soho's craft blog.

One of my Valentines.

The other one.

FFF: Kisses

2011-02-11T11:39:00.000-06:00

At first, I didn't think I had anything to post for Nora's theme this week. But, hey, I do:

Albert

2011-02-06T10:55:00.000-06:00

Last January, at the end of the month, I made Cora a little stuffed dog, who she named Rose. Like all the stuffed animals in this house, Rose ahs had to endure the roller coaster ride that is Cora's love: played with intensely for a few weeks, forgotten for a few weeks, repeat for 12 months. Rose has been back in favor the past few weeks, but sad. She has been sad, I am told by her interpreter, because she doesn't have a friend. A boyfriend. Who is also a dog. Just like her.

Yesterday, as I was finishing up my own sewing projects, she asked again about a friend for Rose. I was feeling very good about getting things done and agreed that it was time to make Rose a friend. Once again, I wish I had thought to go get the camera to take more process pictures. I thought of it as I was stuffing the legs, but didn't want to leave my project.

As it happened, I didn't get the dog finished until nearly midnight, so Cora had only seen him in pieces. So last night, I finished him up, complete with a pair of pants, took some pictures, and set him and Rose on the table for her to find this morning. She did, she loves him, she named him Albert, and then he and Rose swapped clothes.

Then she told me that they need Halloween costumes.

Albert himself

Albert standing. The pants are not a great fit.

Albert and Rose

They seem to like each other.

Yes, I think they do like each other.

I also made this rabbit. Because I wanted to.

The eyes are a little beady, but he's still cute.

A good afternoon

2011-02-05T20:22:00.000-06:00

This afternoon I

finished putting a quilt top together,
made binding for the quilt,
made a cover for a pillow form I bought three months ago, and
started a new stuffy for Cora, one she has been requesting for two weeks.

It felt good to make so much, and for it all to go so well. While I sewing in my little nook, Cora played with her dollhouse and watched some NickJr shows, and Chris made pizza for dinner. I'm looking forward to finishing the stuffy tomorrow, and posting a picture, and to hunting through my bins to find a backing for the quilt. It is wallhanging size, so I believe I also already have batting.

A very good afternoon, indeed!

FFF: Hugs

2011-02-04T16:42:00.000-06:00

The Favorite Foto Friday theme this week is HUGS. And while I think a lot of people will post adorable pictures of kids hugging each other or hugging friends or hugging a parent, let's just remember who I live with.

In November we were Cabela's, and Cora caught sight of a barrel of large, long, stuffed fish. Not taxidermy (though Cabela's fuels her fascination with that, too), but stuffies. There was quite a terrible scene when it became clear we would be leaving without one of these fish.

Luckily, Old Man Santa came through and left one under the tree. This fish is fondly known as Trout and Cora loves him dearly. As you can tell.

Arts and Crafts

2011-02-01T19:20:00.002-06:00

While I have been working on the circle quilt, Cora has been very interested in my progress. I thought it might be fun to give her a project sort of like mine. On Saturday, while Chris was running errands, I asked him to stop by the craft store and pick me up some fusible interfacing (I forgot to say "double-sided," though, so this was not quite as easy as I planned, but that's okay). I fused it to fabric scraps and cut out shapes. Then I cut squares from muslin.

Then, while I sewed my circles, Chris and Cora played with the scraps and squares. When they had a square done, I sewed the pieces down to the muslin for them. These first two were Chris's, though he had considerable input on what he could and could not do. The pinwheel one is probably the most his.

As you can see, after the sewing down there was some additional decorating done with fabric markers.

This was Cora's first one. In some places there are four layers of fabric! She was especially thrilled with the spiral/maze stitching I did on it. While this one is fairly abstract, her next one was a scene:

Her restaurant, with a table and chair. My favorite part of the restaurant one is actually the back.

Where she drew us, labeled with our initials.

Once this cold spell breaks, I plan to get the other kind of interfacing and try this again. But this time I'll trace seam allowances on the muslin, and maybe make them larger. Like placemat size. We still have a lot of winter left, and it feels good to have some cabin-fever projects lined up!

I am finally posting some socks I made (actually, "Turkish bed socks" from a Churchmouse Classics pattern) that I finished in the first week of the new year. That makes them the first thing I made in 2011, a year that came with the resolution to "Make More"!

Finally, here is my 2011 poster. There's a make-your-own-keep-calm widget out there on the web that I used for this. I have it hanging in a prominent place, of course!

FFF: Your Choice

2011-01-28T22:14:00.000-06:00

Nora's theme this week is "You choose!" I've been waiting all week to post this one (and then took all day to get a moment alone with the computer). Here is what you see when you casually announce that for breakfast you are making COOKIES!

Passing on the Narrative Addiction

2011-01-26T12:53:00.000-06:00

I don't know what "playing barbies" is like in other homes. But, it is taken very seriously at our house, most especially by Cora, Master of Ceremonies, Chief Director, and Queen of the Narrative. She constantly surprises me with her storylines. For Christmas she received a vet's outfit (with cat) and a ballerina outfit for her dolls (not all are Barbies-proper; most are Disney princesses). She dressed up the dolls, assignment me the veterinarian dollie, and played the ballerina bringing her cat to the vet. When I asked if her cat was sick, she responded, "Well, yes, but really I am here to tell you that bad guys want to kill you." Oh. Well, that changes the story, doesn't it?

Last night, Chris was out at a concert. Our evening progressed normally. At bedtime Cora and I went to her room, put on jammies, and I read her several stories and sang some songs. At which point she jumped up and exclaimed that she had forgotten something! Barbie and Ken were supposed to go to a party! A ball! A Very Important Ball. She had to play with them for just a little bit. A little arguing (admittedly, my heart was not in it; I am tired of being the grumpy mommy), and we struck a deal that she could come back out to the living room and play quietly for a while if she promised to 1) let me do my own thing, and 2) be cheerful and not crabby in the morning.

The storyline, in brief: First the decorations had to be made and taped up in the ballroom (which might look like an ordinary cardboard box to you). And then there was the dressing (which involved going to the Target store, where the really pretty ball gowns are, natch). Finally, they made it to the dance, even though Ken wouldn't wear his shoes and Barbie was *really* angry at him. Then, accompanied by whispery songs the dancing started. Barbie and Ken did an awful lot of slow-dancing. Then, um, Barbie had a baby. A small polly-pocket sized doll just popped out from under her ballgown. How embarrassing. Ken is going to stay at the dance, but Barbie is taking the baby home to nurse it. Ken says he'll dance with his other wife for a while.

And that was the end of the story. Then Cora pulled her Dick & Jane anthology off the shelf, curled up next to me, and read several pages. Out loud. While I tried to continue reading my murder mystery. But, I can certainly forgive a little reading out loud.

I know what you are really wondering, though. What happened the next morning? Most weekdays, Chris and Cora get up earlier than I do. Today, as on several days, I woke up because Cora was upset about something. She wanted to play a computer game before they left for school. She was being very crabby indeed. On my way to the bathroom, I reminded her of her promise, and pointed out that she should have breakfast and get dressed and then see if there was time for games.

When I came out of the bathroom, she had stopped fussing. She went out to the kitchen, ate her breakfast, got dressed, and then asked nicely if she could play a computer game. She and I sat together and played some games on the PBS site, and then she went off the school. Cheerfully. *Whew*

FFF: Peace / Piecing

2011-01-22T16:56:00.000-06:00

Nora's theme for yesterday was "Peace" - and she was good enough to announce it ahead of time. Despite this, it seemed to be a week without much peace in terms of my inner landscape. Denise Levertov's bleakly beautiful poem "Zeroing In" aptly describes what I am talking about.

But today has been a good day, and I've found a nicer landscape waiting for me inside. I attribute this mainly to what I have done in the kitchen today (cinnamon rolls for tomorrow! meatloaf! crazy 1907 onion soup!) and also that I was able to sit in front of my sewing machine and experiment with some ideas. Here are the photos:

FFF: Hibernation

2011-01-14T19:07:00.000-06:00

Nora's theme this week is hibernation - something we are quite familiar with up here in the northern midwest! But, really, what better time to hibernate than when the zombies are roaming the snowy streets? Cora has helpfully made a sign so that those pesky monsters will keep right on shuffling. While I am pleased to see that this zombie has kept its clothes on (she once told me, "you can't be a zombie because you are clean and you're wearing your clothes."), I am disturbed by that third leg.

So, lock your doors, get your flannel jammies on, and drink your cocoa in bed!

Times when a map would come in handy

2011-01-12T08:22:00.001-06:00

When you live with a highly verbal preschooler, you soon realize that every conversation is actually a thin path bordered on each side by miles and miles of quicksand. And you, the parent, do not know the path at all. And your preschooler just happens to regard quicksand as her natural habitat.

I am thinking of the conversation Cora and I had in the car about a year ago, when I was explaining Memorial Day and why it was a holiday, and soon found myself facing the laser-beam gaze of a four-year-old asking, "Would you die for your country, Mommy?"

Which brings me to the most recent episode. The one that got me thinking that Cora actually does know the path, but the path she wants me to follow her down is indeed overlaid with quicksand, and so long as I don't panic, we will be just fine. The thing about these conversations is that they always seem to come out of nowhere. Sunday evening, we were watching Nickolodeon after dinner - I am not sure why, but iCarly has caught Cora's attention in a big way - and Cora was also coloring on the floor while I caught up with some editing work. Then she asked me if the world started when Baby Jesus was born.

This was actually still sure-footing territory, because if there is one thing I am clear on, it is that the world existed for a very long time before that point in history. And I thought it would be cool to talk about evolution and dinosaurs and so on. But, she cut off the science talk to ask why the people "crossed him." We are nowhere near Easter! Where is this coming from?!

Cora might be much smarter than me, because I'm pretty sure that it took me another six years to realize that being nailed by your hands and feet does not kill you. And that was her next question: If they didn't put a nail through his head, why did he die? And this is where I thanked Mary Roach and her book Stiff for providing me the answer, which I delivered in short, relatively non-graphic language. (But, face it, once you are talking about crucifixion, you are in the graphic language whether you want to be or not.) And then we were back to why, and a discussion of Biblical-times politics.

How much of this has to do with amorphous knowledge of the Arizona shootings? Did she hear Chris and I talk about it? Something in the air? We don't watch news shows with her, and I don't think they do "breaking news" on Nick or PBS. Is it just synergy? Even though I often fumble my way through the theological discussions, trying to tread that thin line between cultural and personal assumptions and beliefs, I find the discussions of real-world violence harder. I would rather explain the mechanics of childbirth than try to explain war.

Which means I have my work cut out for me, because I have read, written, and thought a lot about certain world events, and one day Cora is going to be able to read. She's going to look at those collections of books and have some big questions about words like Holocaust, genocide, Rwanda, and others that she can find in our volumes of history, politics, literature, poetry, and graphic novels.

Really, it has already started, because she's seen The Sound of Music, and while you don't have to go into the whole WWII history, you do have to talk a little about Nazis. And, thinking she would love the dancing, I did show her some clips on YouTube of West Side Story, which turned out to require a primer on gangs and the politics of the "other".

There are so few sure pathways!

Fav Foto Friday: New...CrazySock!

2011-01-07T09:36:00.001-06:00

My fabulous friend Nora is hosting Fav Foto Fridays - each Friday she posts a theme, and any blogger who wants to play along picks up the theme, posts a picture, and links back to her.

I am so tardy with photos all the time, and I hope that participation will both inspire me to post more often and also to take more photos.

Her theme for today is "New" and this is as good a time as any to introduce...CrazySock!

CrazySock was knitted, felted, stuffed, and decorated for Cora this Christmas. I had to work on it when she was around because it took FOREVER and I got a late start. Because the initial knitting is indeed a sock, albeit a gigantic one, I told her that it was a sock for Grandpa Dave. Amazingly, she had no trouble believing this. When I knit the ears, I told her they were decorations for the sock. When Grandpa Dave arrived for Christmas, I overheard her telling him that he was getting a crazy sock for Christmas.

The horse was finished in time, thanks to help from my mom, who knit the i-cord for the reins while I sewed on the eyes and mane and D-rings for the reins, and I carefully placed it in the very front of all the presents so it would be seen first - otherwise I knew it would be lost in the wash of other gifts. And CrazySock and the sled from Chris were indeed the first things she saw, played with, and fell in love with - pwhew!

(As usual, I wish I had thought to take more photos of the process. Something to remember in the future.)

Brushing away the cobwebs

2011-01-02T22:35:00.000-06:00

I intended to start off the new year easy, with a nice little questionnaire meme borrowed from The Fairly Odd Mother's blog. I didn't intend to make any resolutions this year - my mom had the idea of choosing a word for the year instead. Her word is BOLD! At first, I thought of joke words (FACETIOUS!) or dour words (SCHEDULE!). Ugh. I wanted a fun word, too, a good word, a positive word, a word that didn't feel like a chore. I thought about FOCUS...but I always focus. Sometimes too much. There are a lot of things I would like more of this year. More time, more reading, more making, more stability and resources. But MORE does not seem like a good word - too needy, perhaps.

So I am choosing ABUNDANCE. And I mean that sentence in both ways.

And I was going to leave it at that. But, as the day has gone on, and I have heard other friends talking about some of their resolutions, I have developed the resolution itch. I don't believe in setting myself up for failure, in making resolutions that are made for breaking. I like ones like "try to cook more new dishes" or "get into Indian food" or "learn how to knit socks" - those resolutions worked for me.

I'm still working on the ones for 2011. I'm also using the guidelines on The Happiness Project web site to develop them, but I am pretty sure at least one of them will involve cooking, and at least one will involve making and at least one will involve writing. I'll get back to you on those.

In the meantime...meme time!

1. What did you do in 2010 that you’d never done before?
Moved to North Dakota.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
Yes and no, to both questions.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Some friends had babies, yes, sweet babies!

4. Did anyone close to you die?
My cat Emily – after 18 years, I think I can say she was indeed close to me. Close to my heart.

5. What countries did you visit?
Mainly the Kingdom of Crazy, where I reign supreme.

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?
Hmm. Lots of things spring to mind. Stability would be a nice start.

7. What dates from 2010 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
I am not so good with dates, frankly. I’ll remember lots of events, but I doubt I will be able to match them to dates within a year. I’ll remember the opera finally happening, camping, the godawful process of selling the house, moving, Christmas with my parents.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Not completely falling apart about #1.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Not completely keeping it together about #1.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Nothing that will leave a visible scar.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
Markers for Cora. It seems like there was something else I was saying was the best thing, just a few days ago, but now I have no idea what it was. Oh - Chris says it was the slow cooker and the awesome slow cooker cookbook (The Slow Cooker. That's the title. Seriously.)

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
My kind and thoughtful and accepting friends.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Bullies. All types.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Moving, definitely.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Knitting, sewing, cooking, finishing the Thumbelina poems.

16. What song will always remind you of 2010?
I don’t think there is one, unless it is one from the princess song CD that lived in my car for nine months. Pocahontas, I think about you way more often than I ever thought I would.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?
Somehow, both happier and sadder. Not thinner, not with the bumper crop of stress 2010 brought in. And, financially, poorer. Alas. In some less tangible ways, richer.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Writing. Relaxing. Sleeping. Sewing. Reading. Eating out at favorite Twin Cities restaurants.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Packing! Worrying! Crying! Not-sleeping!

20. How did you spend Christmas?
With Chris and Cora and my parents – my dream Christmas companions.

21. Did you fall in love with 2010?
God, no. I think the last year I even had a strong crush on was 2008.

22. What was your favorite TV program?
Was there a mystery in it? A dead body? A scientist or other brainy-type person? A good fight scene? An improbable turn of events? A modicum of clever dialogue? Yep - that was my favorite.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
Nope.

24. What was the best book you read?
I didn’t read as much I would have liked. I don’t remember a lot of what I read. I’m going to say Mary Roach’s Packing for Mars, because it is fresh in my mind. This is a good place to say again how much I love, love, love my Kindle!

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Pandora!

26. What did you want and get?
Help, when I was able to ask for it, or when someone caught me at the right time.

27. What did you want and not get?
Help; I was not always good at being able to ask for it and I often put up a better front than I should have.

28. What was your favorite film of 2010?
I think I saw two films in the theater, so I guess it has to be Inception or Tangled. Did I see other films? I have no freaking clue.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I will always remember that I spent my 40^th birthday at a surprise party that truly surprised me!

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
A dream job for either me or Chris that allowed us to stay in the Twin Cities. Or, you know, afford to move to Santa Barbara. Ha!.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept of 2010?
“Just get dressed.”

32. What kept you sane?
Cooking, drinks with Kristi and Nora, sewing.

33. What political issue stirred you the most?
If by “stirred” I can mean “moved” and if by “political” I can mean “social justice” then I have to say the It Gets Better Project.

34. Who did you miss?
My parents, lots. Chris, when he was in ND. Friends in far and not-so-far places.

35. Who was the best new person you met?
I don’t think I could choose just one.

36. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010.
I’m still sorting out the lessons I learned in 2010. There were a lot of them. Not all were welcome ones.

37. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
Some days take less, but most days take more
Some slip through your fingers and onto the floor
Some days you're quick, but most days you're speedy
Some days you use more force than is necessary
Some days just drop in on us
Some days are better than others
“Some Days Are Better than Others,” U2

Grateful

2010-11-23T12:01:00.000-06:00

Family, friends, the emails and notes and phone calls
that come from the friends so recently moved away from.
I am unceasingly grateful for my parents, my sweet grandma,
my brothers and the lovely families they have founded.

I feel absurdly grateful for Facebook.

I am grateful that our new home is as nice as it is,
that we are steadily getting to feel more and more
at home, that my husband spent the time
to find a place I would feel comfortable in.
I'm grateful that my daughter's spirit
is so buoyant and accepting.

My gratitude to the writers and artists
of the world is unending and vast.
I am grateful for winter sunshine this morning.
For leftover lasagna,
and all that the having of those leftovers implies.

I am, simply, grateful.

A brief dispatch from a new location

2010-11-16T20:37:00.000-06:00

(That's a good title. It deserves more than a blog post...something to file away under "future poems")

We made it. The final day of going through the old house was kind of awful in that it just went on and on. We were underprepared. We had to rent a trailer for the "leftovers". I have learned a lot about moving, both on the practical end and on the emotional end. What was nice was that our drive, done in two stages with an overnight in between, was easy and eventless. What was nice was that I knew that at the other end of the whole ordeal my mother, a saint on earth, would be coming for a week to help us. And help us she did - with getting the kitchen put together; with keeping Cora entertained for a week without school; with putting up with living among mountains and piles and spires of boxes; and with generally assuring me that sanity was mine for the having.

There are still many boxes to unpack. I am sometimes appalled at how much stuff we have, and have to remind myself that we lived in our old house for twelve long years. That that house, though smaller than our new duplex apartment, actually had much more storage (including a basement). For example, this kitchen is the perfect size for someone who either doesn't much like to cook, or who mainly cooks one type of thing. For someone who cooks a variety of things, it can get a little cramped. As in, I have had to give up an entire bookcase so that I have space for all the herbs and spices. As in, my delicious curry habit is costing me about two feet of book-space! And when I think about it like that, it is hard to complain. Because I really, really, really love curries.

I am still finding my way around, still hoping to find work that does not involve wrapping other peoples' purchases or making them lattes, still trying to figure out where I might find a sack of white whole wheat flour. But, I have found a butcher shop that I already really like. And not just because the woman behind the counter was so kind to Cora, who insisted on bringing her stuffed piggie into the store and then lecturing the poor woman on how she could NOT chop up the pig because it is a STUFFED pig. Not a REAL pig.

In case this town was wondering, Cora has arrived.

ACK!, or "what's that over there?!"

2010-11-03T13:50:00.000-05:00

We will be moving in just a few days. Boxes are everywhere, but there are not nearly enough of them. It would seem that the more time you spend in denial, the less gets done. In lieu of an actual post, I present photos of some things I've made recently.

Rapunzel on her way to the school party, also her last day at her beloved school. While I doubt I will win any wig-making awards with this one, she's pretty thrilled with it.

A new dress, as requested it is down to her feet.

Mmmmmm...pumpkin donuts....

Hard to get a good photo when they keep disappearing!

Knitting coffee sleeves is oddly satisfying.

I thought this fabric would make a cute skirt or dress, tried a new pattern out of a new book, hoped it would be liked.

Mission accomplished.

Computer games

2010-10-15T22:35:00.001-05:00

A while ago I bought Cora a little toy "computer" - you can play number and letter games with it and it makes the most annoying monkey sound imaginable. We watch a fair amount of "Curious George" so I feel qualified to make that judgment. I think I bought it two years ago, and periodically she has pulled it out and pretended to work at her computer while I work at mine. But in the last six months she has begun to actually play the games.

I love watching her as she listens to the prompt and thinks about the answer.

And I love her victory dance when she gets an answer right. (Note the awesome skeleton pajamas. They glow in the dark! Although, Cora tells me that it kind of scares her when she looks at her legs under the covers and the bones glow. But she also likes it, so she keeps looking.)

Is there anything better than getting the answer right?!

Unplugged

2010-09-26T22:23:00.000-05:00

A week ago today we were coming to the end of our camping weekend - our first family camping trip, with borrowed tent and sleeping bags. Cora has been asking for months to go camping. I'm not sure what sparked her interest - whether it was something we read, something she saw on a TV show (did Curious George go camping? Oh, that's right, Olivia went camping! Mystery solved.) - and finally it seemed like the right time. Nothing else planned, fall weather so the mosquitoes might be dead or at least too weak to do much damage, and because it is the school year again, Chris could meet us if we picked a point half way between us. So we did. We found a State Park, reserved a campsite, and I started my lists.

The lists paid off. We had good meals. We had everything we really needed. I got to sit by the campfire reading Dracula the Un-Dead by flashlight (oh, the book is not good at all, except as a further permutation of the story, but I am reading it anyway!). We roasted marshmallows every night and that is still Cora's favorite part. I put my Girl Scout training, my family camping training, and my matriarchal fire-building genetic advantage to work in building the fire, making hobo packets, washing dishes in a basin, and generally accepting the discomforts of camping with as much fortitude as possible.

It was beautiful, it was relatively quiet. We were surrounded by trees. It came at the end of a week when I'd had the luck to spend two different days with friends who are also writers. I got my chapbook manuscript close to finished. I did some reading. By Sunday afternoon I was feeling more like myself - my idea of myself - than I have in a year. When Sunday afternoon rolled around, we got everything packed up, headed to the nearest town to have lunch together, and then drove our separate directions. We all felt good. We'd had a great weekend. Cora was excited to watch Alice in Wonderland (Disney animated version) on her little player. No tears.

After ten minutes on the interstate, the temperature warning light flashed red. Then the oil light came on. The car beeped at me. And then the smoke (later identified as steam; the water pump had blown out) started pouring out from under the hood. We pulled off on an exit ramp, called for help, got towed nine miles back to a little town with no Sunday mechanics. We stayed at a roadside motel - the managers were nice and helpful, but it was still a setting straight out of 45% of the horror movies ever made! (No deadbolt, no peephole.) We survived the night. We walked 30 minutes to the Ding Dong Cafe for breakfast. Our car was fixed by 4pm and we made it back home. Much of the serenity and self-restorative power of the weekend stripped away.

As we drove into our neighborhood I was explaining to Cora how camping had been so nice, and then our unintended adventure kind of ruined the weekend. She was shocked. But Mom! Wasn't it fun to eat snacks in the motel? Wasn't it fun to watch a new TV show? Truthfully, it wasn't, for me. But I suppose the fact that she thought it was indeed fun, was simply another good adventure in the weekend, also says something about what the weekend did for my state of mind: I may have felt like the weekend was somewhat ruined by the misadventure, but I didn't ruin her weekend.

I'm almost as proud of that as I am of my fire-building skills.

Back to...um...

2010-09-10T15:59:00.000-05:00

Well, I didn't go back to school this fall - no more teaching for me until sometime after we move. Yesterday would have been the first day of classes, and it was a day of mopey glumness. But, I am not without something having to do with "back" - as in, back injury, back pain, etc. Nearly two weeks ago I threw out my back (every time I say that I have a mental image of myself standing over the garbage can about to drop in a spine) - "all I did" was lean over in a twisted position and pick up Cora. You know, like I do every day, a couple of times a day. This was the wrong day for it though, and I am still working my way back to normal.

Why have that happen now? Let's see...loss of our oldest cat, Chris headed back to North Dakota, waiting to see what happens with the house sale, lack of access to standard stress-relieving activities...obviously, my back was a ticking bomb.

But, slow recovery notwithstanding, Friday is still a holy day to Cora because it is a STAY AT HOME day, and there is nothing she loves like a stay at home day. She gets to see some TV shows she doesn't usually, like CSI reruns...just kidding. There are some NickJr and PBS shows that she only gets to watch on Fridays. Also, since Chris's return to the long-distance daddy gig, I've tried to make sure we have some art projects and some cooking projects for Fridays.

But first is the freeform morning role playing. This morning I was a mommy, a baby, a hunter, a circus lady, and a police man. Cora was a daughter, a mommy, a hunting dog, a circus dog, and a police dog. But, here is my favorite conversation from when I was the daughter and she was the mommy:

Cora: Well, darling, now it is time for you to go into the world and live on your own!
Me: Really?
Cora: Yes, darling. Please just go.
Me: How old am I?
Cora (rolling her eyes): Thirteen! Of course!
Me: I think I'm too young.
Cora (in the tone of someone trying to be very patient): No, darling, and if you are lonely, you can adopt a baby who looks just like your mommy. Now, please don't argue with me anymore and just go into the world!

Later we made some paper dolls (really basic dolls) and dresses for them. And here's the shocking part - I finally gave in and got down on the floor so I could color next to her, and once I managed to stand back up, my back felt a lot better. Did it just need to be really pushed to do more? Will I pay an awful price tomorrow morning? Was it the magic of art therapy?

Cora has decided that every time Chris comes home we need to make a welcome home cake. Last week it was a real cake. This week it was gingerbread, which she is looking forward to eating tonight, even though the batter "looks like Arvo's throw up and it smells good AND bad." Then we made pizza dough for dinner tonight.

There's nothing like a kitchen helper who wears an apron, "pearls," and a tiara...and secretly eats flour when she thinks you aren't looking. There's nothing like having someone who thinks your art skills are amazing. There's nothing like being reminded that you are, in fact, always teaching.

Emily Marie, a cat, 1992-2010

2010-08-19T22:58:00.001-05:00

When I moved to Minnesota, following a guy I'd been dating for about five months, my dad helped me load up my little white pick-up and drive my stuff out here. It was a three day trip, he didn't let me drive, and I loved spending so much time with my dad. I also bawled like a baby before we'd even left California, but nevermind that. We arrived on Nov. 1, 1992, and the next morning at breakfast he said, "Well, I think today we should get you a cat." (We also had to get ourselves some gloves, scarves, and hats, because we drove in with the first snowstorm.)

We found the nearest Humane Society location, finally figured out how to get there, and faced the daunting task of choosing among the dozens and dozens of cats there. There were cats who couldn't be around other cats, and cats in the "colony rooms" who were more sociable and well-behaved. I decided to start there. In the first room, none of the cats looked up when I entered, and none seemed too excited about the possibility of being adopted by a CA transplant trying to pass off a flannel shirt as a jacket.

So I went to the next colony room. When I walked in, only one cat turned her head to look at me. When I walked over to her, she jumped up onto my shoulder and began to purr. We took her into one of the "get acquainted" rooms and she continued to basically attach herself to me. Dad said, "I think you've got a cat." The vet at the Humane Society believed she was about nine months old. She'd been surrendered by a family that was moving and didn't want to pay a pet deposit (that's how it was phrased to me - perhaps they couldn't). Her name was Tasha.

We brought her home and I renamed her Emily Marie (for Emily Dickinson and Marie Curie). That first afternoon she took a nap curled up on my dad. She liked to sleep during the day in the bathroom sink. At night she would pull her favorite toy - a length of string - up into the bed and meow. She played fetch for a couple years. Our apartment was on the sixth floor of a building overlooking a freeway - she would sit in the window and watch the freeway, batting at the glass when am emergency vehicle or police cruiser went by with lights flashing. She once ran over and licked the speakers the first time she heard Brahms. When we moved to a duplex, she found new favorite spots and games. When we decided to get a second cat to keep her company...well, she put up with him. Mostly.

For the last few months she's been on a long slide downwards. In the last two months she began to let Cora pet her. She stopped coming upstairs at night. She begged for milk and cream constantly, but lost weight until she was only about 3 pounds. On Monday we took her to a very kind vet who had been seeing her, who gave us the space to make our own decision. She walked out of her carrier onto the soft blue blanket they had spread on the table. She lay down and waited while we signed paperwork and petted her. She waited patiently for the vet to find one of her tiny tiny veins with his tiny tiny needle, and then she just lay her head down and stopped. We had time alone with her, petting her, talking to her, until we felt like that soft furry body wasn't really her anymore.

During this time, Cora was with friends, who had lost one of their cats earlier in the year; people, I told her, who would know how she felt. I had talked with her starting a few weeks before about how Emily was getting closer to her time to die. We talked about other people we know who have lost pets in the past year. We read some books. She frequently expressed a wish that Emily wouldn't die. She wanted us to take a picture of her petting Emily. She would often pet Em's head very tenderly and say, very seriously, "Is it your time, Emily? Are you going to die?" Monday night she told me she would miss Emily's soft and beautiful fur. Tuesday night she cried because she wanted to kiss Emily one more time.

I understand that. I still think I see her out of the corner of my eye, standing on the table, wandering into the kitchen. I think I feel her jumping onto the bed. I wonder if our other cat, Arvo, has become so much more vocal in the past five months as a way of anticipating and mourning her death. I think about how she came into my life when I moved to Minnesota, and how she has left it just as I am preparing to leave the state.

Joining the heat

2010-08-13T20:05:00.000-05:00

We've been having a week of hot and humid weather here in the Twin Cities - one of my least favorite kinds of weather (usually followed by another least favorite: big thunderstorms). We've been eating salads, sandwiches, snacky lunches and dinners, skillet meals, nothing that would use the oven or have to be cooked for very long.

Today I decided that we would just have to suffer the consequences.

Earlier in the week, Chris and Cora had mixed up a batch of dough for rosemary-whole wheat-flaxseed baguettes from the Healthy Bread in Five Minutes a Day book (I borrowed it from the library, copied out some recipes, and am now waiting for a copy to drop from the sky into my lap...or to be able to buy one later this fall). Whole wheat bread has been my nemesis this summer - I have had trouble finding a recipe I like that has both a good taste and a good texture. So, we made two baguettes to go with our pesto spaghetti tonight. I also, at the behest of Cora, made a pan of chocolate chip cookie bars. To round out the meal we had a little melon from our farmers - a variety of cantaloupe - and a simple tomato salad - four kinds of tomatoes, salt & pepper.

I know it is a good dinner when Cora eats it all, eats two cookies, curls up on the couch, and falls asleep at 8pm. Plus, the bread turned out fantastic! Not only great tasting, but also beautiful. If only our camera were not out of batteries!

Well-stocked, and proud of it

2010-08-12T22:03:00.000-05:00

About two months ago a friend paid me a compliment that I keep returning to and treasuring. She was helping me pack up and rearrange things in the pantry, in anticipation of the house going on the market. At one point she told me that she really admired and envied my well-stocked pantry.

I know that many, many cookbooks are happy to tell you what you should have in your pantry, what a "well-stocked pantry" will have. But what I find is that it is more important to know what my family likes, eats, and tends to think would be tasty. Lots of tomato products. Various kinds of beans and rices and pastas. Certain produce should always be on hand, certain condiments. Certain categories of food can be completely dispensed with (any kind of fish, any canned soup product).

My friend's comment was especially nice to hear because I do take a certain secret (up until now) pride in my pantry - in the readiness of it. I like it that I can do a decent amount of baking and cook on the fly, if need be. I like being able to pull a nice lunch together on the spur of the moment, especially in the summer when Chris and I are both pretty much home for lunch together most days. It's nice to grab up a bunch of good-looking peaches at the store and come home and waffle between pie and cobbler for a while, and know that either one could be made from what is on hand. Or bringing home an awful lot of zucchini in a CSA box and knowing I have everything I need for zucchini bread.

Getting those CSA boxes has really given me some great opportunities to exercise my pantry - both the physical pantry and also what I think of as my mental pantry, which is not so much stocked with food as with ideas about food. I have loved our CSA this summer - I learned a lot last summer about how to manage the box, what to expect, and how to work in new veggies for my family. There have been many fewer incidents of throwing things away completely unused. There have been times we haven't used something up entirely, and there have been times we just couldn't bring ourselves to eat more of something (I'm looking at you, kohlrobi), but on the whole, way fewer than last year.

The other night I made a fresh corn polenta recipe from the recent Bon Appetit - the only thing I needed from the store was the mascarpone. We had it with grilled chicken with some leftover jerk marinade that Chris has made a few days before, and with green beans - all the veggies involved were from the CSA. There was leftover polenta, of course, and once refrigerated it firmed up nicely. Earlier in the week I'd made tomatillo salsa from CSA tomatillos, onions, and jalapenos, and we had that with stacked cheese enchiladas, but there was extra salsa, of course.

So, the other day, faced with lunchtime and not wanting a sandwich, I started poking around the mental pantry. Here's what we ended up with: leftover chicken (retail chicken, nothing too virtuous there), and then a pan-fried polenta slice topped with a salad of chopped tomatoes (two kinds from the farmer's market) and black-eyed peas that just happened to be in the pantry and the leftover tomatillo salsa. It was the kind of plate that I find myself looking at with great satisfaction.

It was a combination of the "luck of the box" from the CSA and a prepared pantry. And it fit in with what we are striving towards: only buying what we might call ingredients, basic building blocks, and trying to buy locally and/or responsibly. (In this last respect, that leftover chicken totally didn't fit in.) But if we can keep to these rough guidelines, we can have meals like that: Totally unplanned, totally made up, totally delicious.

Hold on / Let go

2010-08-04T16:09:00.000-05:00

From the ages of about 5 to 15 there were few things I loved more than dancing. Somewhere towards the end of that period, around the age of 11 or so, I had to admit that it was unlikely that I would ever be good enough to make a life of it, and eventually some recurrent knee issues really put that thought to bed. I like to think that I can still appreciate dance.

But I'm having trouble mastering the steps to the dance I am currently engaged in. This hold on/let go dance of moving, of waiting for a house to sell, of leaving - in painful gradations - people and places I love, of looking for places to fit into in the new place, of leaving room for new people, of managing the emotions, bedtimes, meals, expectations, and needs of our little family. Every day is both rehearsal and performance. Every day requires changes in the choreography.

Today has been a day when it seems the only part of the dance I'm able to execute with any ability is the "hold on" part - and, of course, I think we all know that it is the "let go" part of the dance that earns the applause.

No blueberry-picking, but plenty of Snow White and fairy tale musings

2010-08-02T21:59:00.000-05:00

But I wish this were a post about blueberry picking - I have read so many blog posts about blueberry picking in the last weeks, seen so many luscious photos of berries in boxes and baskets and pies and jam jars and cakes and ice cream bowls! I have been beset with terrible blueberry-picking envy. I thought of it too late to pull it together, which is a shame. I really love blueberries. Cora and Chris love blueberries, too, and we are certainly eating our share of retail berries. Mostly in cobblers and pancakes and yogurt and just fresh-washed out of a bowl. And now the peaches are threatening to eclipse the blueberries in our hearts. Such is the fickle nature of summer.

I finally got around to downloading the Flip camera. We had movies on there going back to early May. Yikes. But I think perhaps my favorite movies are a two-part sequence of Chris and Cora re-enacting Snow White. I think you will agree that Chris earns his Daddy stripes by participating in this, knowing it would be filmed and (of course!) posted. I only wish I had caught on camera the effort that went into Cora perfecting her technique for the "apple rolling away from my dead hand" move.

Last fall, in class we read fairy tales and academic essays on fairy tales and folklore. I was really surprised that none of my students, all first-year college students, *none* of the 40 students, were at all familiar with any of the more traditional versions of the tales. They knew nothing about red-hot iron dancing shoes, eyes pecked out by doves, walking on knives, etc. None knew the Bluebeard story, even! (I feel like I did pop culture a service by teaching these tales, the oldest and the newer reimaginings.) And over and over what they said was, "Who would let their kid read these?! Who would tell these stories to children?!" They were scandalized as only 18-year-olds can be.

Imagine their horror when I confessed that not only did I read and tell these stories to my girl, but that she really liked them.

I always go back in my mind to my good memories of tucking myself away in the back (the back-back) of the family station wagon and reading and rereading the volumes of Grimm and Andersen tales on family trips. I so loved those stories (my favorite is "The Goose Girl")! They were pretty accurate old-time translations, too. With the occasional illustration. I especially remember one of the end of a story wherein the evil character was turned into a giant black poodle that was forced to eat hot coals for the rest of its (presumably short) life. That thrill of revulsion and shock was delicious.

I also remember doing a paper on Maurice Sendak and all that he said about children and what adults think is too scary for kids is probably not half as scary as what already exists in the child's mind and fears. I agree with that. I read those tales now, and I think they are scarier for an adult - because as adults, we know that while we would like to think that people don't abandon their children in the woods when times are tough, a casual read through a newspaper will tell you such things do in fact happen today.

I also read something my cousin Traci wrote recently about why she identifies with Ariel from The Little Mermaid (Disney version) - how she feels born to sing (and sings beautifully), but struggles with losing her voice due to recurrent throat health issues. That she is also curious and sometimes naive. And that reminded me again about how we find ourselves in literature. Just as that poor goose girl ended up finally whispering her troubles to an old stove, here I am talking to the internet.

And, finally, at least in fairy tales, we do still get the happy endings we crave after all the trauma and tension.

Projection

2010-07-28T16:48:00.000-05:00

Last night while Cora and I were eating dinner she announced that she was the mommy and I was the daughter. This actually happens on a nearly daily basis. But, in a new twist, this time I was told that now that I was five years old, I had to stop sucking my thumb and be a big girl.

Whoa.

Cora herself is four, still a fairly new four, and still quite a devotee of The Thumb. The thumb-sucking as diminished over this year, mostly only popping up when she is tired, sad, scared, or falling asleep. Because it is diminishing, I haven't ever made a fuss about it. In the winter I try to get her to lay off a little due to the chapping (ugh), but that's about it.

Further discussion and role-playing revealed that I could still put my thumb in my mouth if I were really, really scared, if I was falling asleep, and if I was at home.

I should know better, but I am still sometimes amazed at her ability to plan ahead.

Now reading: Bad Mother, by Ayelet Waldman

2010-07-28T09:15:00.002-05:00

Yesterday I found myself with an hour and a half between when a meeting ended and when I needed to pick up Cora. Not quite long enough to go home and accomplish anything before having to be right back in the same part of town. My meeting had been at a coffeeshop, so the last thing I needed to do was to go somewhere and have another cup of coffee. So, of course, I ended up in a bookstore. I can always kill some time in a bookstore, though there is the substantial risk of purchasing something.

Needless to say, I succumbed. I walked out of the store with a copy of Ayelet Waldman’s Bad Mother, a nonfiction book. I’ve read most Waldman’s other books, the MommyTrack mysteries and also the novels, and I remember when she was branded a “bad mother”. It is always nice (if you ask me) to see good work come out of something like that, and Bad Mother is definitely good work.

The book caught my eye because this very subject has weighed on my mind quite a bit in the last year or so. One of the questions Waldman asks in the first chapter is “Is there really no other way to be a mother in contemporary American society than to be locked into the cultural zero-sum game of ‘I’m Okay, You Suck’?” (19). She looks at those tropes of society, the Good Mother and the Bad Mother (and wonders why the bar is set so low for Good Fathers: “a reasonable, attainable goal; you need only be present and supportive” (11)). She looks at judgment, the judgments we pass on ourselves as mothers and on each other.

I’ve only read through the first chapter, but I am hooked. I knew I would like Waldman’s voice, but I also like the way she lays out the playing field, the way she ropes in modern references (Andrea Yates, Brittany Spears) and literary ones (Anna Karenina, late-Victorian poster girl for Bad Mothers, and Medea). I like the way she is both very funny and very serious – that this is serious business is never obscured.

While I’ve never been held up for public excoriation, as Waldman has, I know that I have felt the weight of judgment from other mothers. And I know that even though my mantra with Cora is “different families have different rules” (different needs, different challenges, different ideals), I do sometimes wonder if in some cases different actually is wrong.

Of course, there are different rules which are wrong – abuse is wrong, I think we can all agree on. Shame is wrong, many would agree on. And so on. But between the clearly wrong and the lofty ideal, there is a lot of open space. There is a lot of room for difference, for comparison, for jockeying for position to be closest to Good.

I’m looking forward to the rest of the book; I may come back to talk more about it (fair warning!)

Those old-time fairy tales.

2010-07-26T14:37:00.003-05:00

On one of the PBSkids sites, there is a drawing game. You're supposed to draw a habitat for a specific imaginary animal. We did something different. Then you have a chance to write a story about the animal. Cora told me what to draw and what to write. You can see that hearing about red-hot dancing shoes and wolf-eaten grannies has not influenced her story-telling at all. Not at all.

(I'm told that in the story, Julia does come back to life. But "that story isn't part of this picture" - I tried.)

Long Live the Kitchen Table

2010-07-24T09:27:00.003-05:00

There have been a couple times in the last few weeks when I have been in the kitchen and felt entirely at peace - which is a funny thing to say, because it is usually the times when I have two things going on the stove and something in progress on the counter, and a growing sink of dishes. It's like that old saying about the duck - serenely floating above the water, paddling like mad beneath - except that for once I actually feel like the top part of the duck!

(And here is how life with Cora is currently affecting me: I have an irresistible need to say Guess what? Duck butt!)

I am having a good and successful time using up nearly everything from our Harmony Valley CSA box. (I cannot say enough good things about Harmony Valley.) I found a new cobbler recipe that is quick and easy and comes out the way I want it to. I made a cherry pie with cherries from a friend's trees that I loved, which is amazing, because I have not, historically, had much interest in cherry pies.

Every summer it seems like there are a few dishes that become the Dish of the Summer and that get made about every other week, or more frequently. And I'm not just talking about things like quesadillas or ham and pea pasta! Last summer it was a black-eyed pea-feta-and tomato salad. This summer it has been my version of a Rick Bayless Beans-Greens-and-Chorizo taco filling and a wilted spinach and bacon and egg salad. What I find astonishing here is the presence of greens and spinach - not previously staples of our table - but this summer we are all about the greens. Even Cora, though she is a dedicated raw food purist when it comes to her vegetables. And her fruits - she is not a fan of pie. Or cobbler. Or tarts. Or even blueberry pancakes (!!) - she wants her blueberries on the side, please.

The kitchen often feels like the one area of the house, and my life, that I am in control of, or where I feel fully prepared and competent. Even though our kitchen is off in a corner of the house, it feels like the center. And if I can keep centered there, then I can carry that into the other areas.

I admit it: lately I envision myself as an octopus. Only psychically, of course. Or does that sound worse? But, I do try to pull myself, my tendrils or tentacles, from that center, that calm and knowing center, rather than from the places where it all feels like chaos and limbo and anger and sadness. Those are the places I am not enjoying finding myself lately. Not much gets created in those places that is going to nourish anyone.

Today I ran into the poem "Perhaps the World Ends Here" by Joy Harjo. Her first line is "The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live." And later she writes "It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human."

Oh yes. And this summer, I would say that the instructions served up by our kitchen table are: Be creative. Learn to love what you thought you would not. Make something your own. Know where you are safe, and how to carry that safety with you.

July: Opera Month

2010-07-24T08:31:00.002-05:00

This month has been opera month at our house. We finally reached the premiere of the opera Chris and I have been working on for the past three years - and lately I have been walking around marveling at the fact that we wrote a show that has sold out five performances in two locations! By the end of the month about 1300 people will have seen it. That is kind of amazing to me, still.

Last night, as I sat and watched and listened, I could remember doing the research for the story, learning about life in a small Wisconsin town in 1900, about lumberjacks and logging camps, about the nearly unmentioned abundance of "crazy" old men living hermit-style just outside the towns, almost all of them amputee veterans of the Civil War (call it Soldier's Heart or PTSD, it has always been there), about folksongs. I learned so much more than what made it into the opera! And then starting to put the story together, learning the characters, the false starts and abandoned plots.

The opera was commissioned to be about a moment in a small town's history, a moment when the town changed its name in the hope of attracting a factory, more jobs, more people. I wanted to be sure that, while staying true to the historical moment, it was also a story that was about people now as much as it was about people then - about having to make choices, about the hard choices we have to make when something changes, about how far a person might be willing to compromise, and when compromise becomes unacceptable. It's a story I certainly recognize, and it has been rewarding to hear that other people have, too.

Cocktail meditation

2010-07-02T21:51:00.001-05:00

As I typed that title, it occurred to me that perhaps I could pioneer a new form of meditation. Like walking meditation, only this would be cocktail meditation. Mindful drinking. Think about it.

I've had the opportunity twice in the last week to go out for drinks with friends, which has been lovely and fun. Not, perhaps, meditative exactly. But I will say that on both occasions I felt very present in the moment, centered. Most recently, I was struck by the way a cocktail choice can capture your mood, your personality, or your aspirations.

My choice was the Rosemary Pear Martini – I liked the sound of it: herbal, light, sweet, clear. I've been trying to be more sweet and clear myself, lately, and while the pear is not my favorite fruit, in combination with the rosemary it sounded more interesting that plain pear. Oh, it was delicious! So delicious, that the next evening I did something I rarely bother to do. I tried to recreate it.

In such endeavors, it helps to be the kind of person who has a bundle of rosemary in the fridge and a half-empty bottle of pear cognac in the cupboard.

First I made some rosemary syrup: a simple syrup with some sprigs of rosemary thrown in. I used 1 cup water, 1 cup white sugar, two long sprigs of rosemary - boiled it all together until the sugar dissolved and the syrup took on a pale green color. It makes about a cup of syrup, which may seem like too much...but I bet it would also be good in a gin fizz, and in green iced tea.

Recipe:
In a shaker with ice combine:
vodka
pear liqueur or pear cognac
rosemary simple syrup
lemon juice and strip of zest

I tried the proportions of two parts vodka to one part pear to 1/2 part syrup, 1/2 part lemon juice. But I think it needs more pear, actually. And I would leave the syrup and lemon juice at equal amounts.

(Another) Love letter to my CSA

2010-06-27T22:41:00.003-05:00

I love my CSA; this you already know. I've written before about how we tried a CSA about 12 years ago and the amount of bok choy we received was...daunting. But last summer we tried again, and fell in love. This summer we signed up with the same CSA as last year, Harmony Valley, and I find it even more exciting. Usually around Tuesday night I start checking the web site to see what we might be getting in our box, and I start thinking about the next week's menu. Then, on Thursday, we pick up our box. (This year we also bought a coffee share and a sample cheese share - heaven! And, wow, we drink a lot of coffee.)

Although, like any activity done with a four year-old, it can sometimes be more exasperating that expected, I do like to take Cora with me to pick up the veggies from "our farmers." On the best days, she helps me unpack the veggies from our box into our grocery bags, and we talk about each thing as we move it. I love that she will try almost anything while we are standing there in a stranger's garage. Last week she ate a bite of cabbage leaf, some fennel fronds, some carrot greens, an amaranth leaf, and cheered for the broccoli.

So, here are some of the meals we'll be having (or already had), thanks to our box of veggies; I'll put an asterisk by the things that came in the box.
- salads with beets* and blue cheese* (but Chris had feta, as the blue is too blue for him)
- carrot top* and basil pesto on orechiette
- Welsh rarebit (cheddar*), with simple potato salad and blanched carrots* and broccoli*
- cabbage* and paneer curry with a fennel*-golden raisin rice
- greens (amaranth*), black beans, and chorizo tortilla filling with salad (quesadillas for Cora with jack cheese*)

And of course the garlic and scallions we got will find their way into these and other dishes as the week goes on. I'm getting better at using everything before it goes bad, and at leaving in the "share box" things I know we will not use (sorry, kohlrabi, we gave you a good try, but weren't eager to eat you again right away). One thing I like about doing the menu-planning this way is that I start with certain pieces to the puzzle, and then have to try to find ways to make as many of them as possible fit, with as many pieces from the cupboards as possible. And I think I did pretty good, because after I made the plans, I only had 15 things on the shopping list that were new non-staples to be bought (I'm not counting things like milk and eggs and fruit that we would be buying every week regardless). Of course, this is also thanks to two other things: a well-stocked pantry and knowing our tastes well. I may not always need coconut milk, but if it is on sale, I know it is worth picking up a can.

So I'll end with one more food-news item, unrelated to the CSA (mostly). One of our favorite sides, come spring, is a caprese salad. Just typing that makes me think about basil and tomatoes! But, for Cora, it is all about her favorite cheese, the "squishy cheese" - fresh mozzarella. Luckily, she will also eat basil, but for the last two months she has been resisting the tomatoes. I don't even try to put one on her plate anymore. So tonight, with our pizzas, when I passed the caprese around, I just gave her cheese and basil. I would say this is probably the ninth or tenth time we've had caprese this year. After a few minutes, she ASKED if it would be OKAY if she tried a tomato. Of course, we tried to be very nonchalant about saying yes. She ate four pieces of tomato. Hallelujah! I believe this means that eventually beets will be tried as well.

Vitality - work and collaboration

2010-06-23T22:33:00.006-05:00

Tonight I enjoyed a double privilege: being interviewed about my work, and seeing someone I'd only know socially be engaged in her own work with skill, enjoyment, and vitality. For the first part, we are now just under a month away from the premiere of the opera Chris and I have been working on. We are so lucky that the opera is not only going to have a two-performance premiere in the town the opera takes place in, but we will also have a three-performance run in the Twin Cities. For a new American opera, this is incredible, and we are thrilled.

I know this sounds terribly geeky, but I take real pleasure in watching someone work, when that person really enjoys her, or his, work, and especially when I know the person, but not at all in a professional capacity. The woman who interviewed us, and who will be putting together a 30-minute radio program about the opera complete with clips from rehearsals, is someone I know through a friend and have seen at a handful of social occasions. It was fun to see her at work, to see that side of her - especially because she clearly enjoys and is good at what she does.

The opera project has, from the beginning, been a collaboration between Chris and I, between our composer-librettist team and the producer, and now expanding to include the singers, the instrumentalists, the production team. And now expanding again to include another creative person. I can't wait to see how she puts together the things we said with the other interviews she conducted and the songs - how she, in essence, orchestrates her program.

Collaboration can be hard work. Chris and I are lucky in that we already collaborate on so much in building our lives together, and so when we come to a project like the opera, we know how each other works. We know we can trust each other. We know what each others best work looks and sounds like. We have this now built in - instead of having to build it from scratch while the project is ongoing (I've done that - it can be painful and frustrating when it doesn't come easily or when the partners are mismatched). And, when collaboration works - in any field, the arts, business, a family - it energizes every part of the project. This is also what I find exciting about that happens in the classroom, when things are really working.

Waking up

2010-06-22T21:35:00.003-05:00

As part of getting our house ready to go on the market and be shown, we took down the curtains in the bathroom. These are curtains that the previous owners had made, roman shade style things, and it had been a long time since they'd last been washed. So...they tore in the dryer. We needed new curtains. Quick. Cheap. I was going to have to make replacements.

The week before I had, reluctantly, packed up my sewing machine. It was in a big box somewhere in the garage.

But I had kept out a couple needles and pins.

So, we went to the quilt store - not the cheapest fabric, but my best chance of finding a fabric I liked - bought a print for the bathroom side and a solid for the window side. I love the print. It just so happens I bought enough to be able to make Cora a little dress sometime. I don't know how that happened. And that night I sat and sewed the new shade by hand.

That was about two weeks ago. Now, I have itchy fingers. I want to make something. I'm wishing I had some scraps of fabric - I am thinking about making a little old-school doll quilt. Something handsewn. From templates. Something scrappy and sweet.

I've also been reading, finally. During the year I kept up with what my classes were reading, and I would read an article online now and then, some other blogs, but not what I would call real reading. I mean, for the last several years I've averaged between 65-70 books a year, and last year it was far fewer than that. And it has taken a while for me to feel ready to take a book back up in a serious way - a novel, not just a "candy bar" (don't get me wrong, I love the candy bars). But in the last week...I've read three good novels (thank you, public library!). Atwood's The Year of the Flood, Dan Chaon's Await Your Reply, and Walter Mosley's The Man in My Basement.

And, now it feels like my brain is settling back into place. I'm thinking about writing again. I'm thinking about what else I want to read. I'm thinking about who I am, who I want to be. I feel like the last ten months have been about being who I needed to be - similar to the time right after Cora was born, actually, though that felt more biologically-driven, and this more recent experience felt more driven by logic, by what I knew rather than felt had to be done. I'm still thinking through all this, still feeling out the shape of it, but it's good to have a start at the distance to see it more clearly.

A new look

2010-06-21T23:07:00.004-05:00

Yeah, I changed things around a little bit. You know, everything else is changing, why not the blog look? (BlogLook? Blook? Yikes.)

Just checking to see if you are paying attention. Or, you know, maybe you are watching a princess movie. Or a dinosaur movie. Or something like that.

One Art

2010-05-22T20:43:00.005-05:00

I am sitting in a motel room in WI, Cora asleep in the bed, Chris at a concert, the room filling up with darkness as the world beyond the open window fills with evening birdsong and highway thrum, and I am thinking about that Elizabeth Bishop poem "One Art" and in particular, these lines:

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.

I think I am thinking about these lines because earlier this evening we were all down
in the motel pool and at the end I was sitting and waiting for Chris to coax Cora out of the
water and my mind wandered to memories of our backyard pool when I was in high school,
 and I was thinking that having that pool was one of the very best things about high school,
as I see it now. I loved being in that pool, lying on hot cement next to it after being in the
water for a long time, the feeling of the heat soaking into a wet suit. I would read stretched
out on the diving board. My brothers and I played games there - made up games of baseball
while sitting perched on boogie boards.

And I was thinking about places, bodies of water, I've left behind - that pool, the ocean,
a beloved lake, and soon a river, and those lines popped into my head. I am finding there is
something about a motel room, a cool evening, birdsong, a highway, and a sleeping child that
all conspire to make it very easy to think about loss. That is the art in Bishop's poem, after all,
the art of losing.

Holy Moley It's a New Post!

2010-05-18T18:36:00.003-05:00

Or that is what I imagine my mother saying. (And my other six readers, bless your hearts.)

I'm not going to to fill in from my missing time incident, but jump right to the important stuff, which is what I made for dinner tonight. The mixed greens stir fry from p264 of Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone, with Napa cabbage, spinach, and hon tsai tai, the latter two coming from our beloved CSA (yes, we signed up again!). With brown basmati rice and a few variations (more garlic, more ginger, a little teriyaki sauce, and so on). Yum! Cora tried a bite of the greens, and while she didn't want more, she didn't spit it out. Round these parts, we call that a success. She did eat her bowl of rice, plus some cheese, ham, and crackers.

Today I collected the final papers from my students, and graded them. I was really pleased with the papers this time around, though frankly I had designed the assignment so that it would take a real act of homework disregard to screw it up. And then I was really happy to be COOKING and enjoying it again. I even have plans to make a cake tonight, still. I think it is partly that Chris is home again, that the semester is over, and also that we have made our decisions.

I can't say that our decision completely fulfills all my hopes for the next few years, but this year apart has also helped to clear up my priorities to the point where I am mostly content with the fact that we are moving to Grand Forks.

There. I said it.

Turn here for Memory Lane

2010-04-09T12:33:00.002-05:00

Today I watched Natalie Merchant's Feb 2010 performance on TED; she sang songs from her new album, settings of old poems. It was terrific, especially her setting of Hopkins' "Spring and Fall", a poem I love dearly. Then at the end, for an encore, an old 10,000 Maniacs song.

And then I spent some time in the storage closet looking for my old tapes, remembering how many times I listened to those songs in Santa Barbara, in my old apartment, humming them on the walk to the beach, singing along with a friend at her place in Ojai. You know, throwing myself a big nostalgia party.

These are some of the songs I listened to while I packed up my apartment, getting ready to move to the Twin Cities.

These songs cover a lot of emotional territory for me. I found the tapes. I'm not sure I'm really ready to play them again.

A good morning

2010-03-28T08:47:00.004-05:00

Despite the fact that Cora woke up at 6am, this morning is nice. She laid in bed pretty quietly for another half hour (a bad dream last night sent to my bed at about 10pm, and she seems to finally be grasping the concept of "don't push Mommy off the bed"). Then she played in her room for another half hour. Given that I finally weaned myself off the baby monitor, this was actually restful for me.

Once I got up, we had a tea party. Then she wanted to get dressed. She colored while I made French Toast. She ate four pieces of French toast, a banana, a cheese stick, and drank a cup of juice. Right now she's watching Dinosaur Train ("Our favorite show, Mom!!!") and wearing her Palm Sunday outfit: pink polka dot dress, pink striped pants, rainbow shoes. I'll try to get a photo.

It's the kind of weekend morning that was so rare to have this past fall, and is becoming something more dependable. It's nice. After a couple months of feeling like I am struggling uphill with this girl, now it feels more like we can meet each other on more even ground. Yesterday we were at a birthday party...at a toy store (I know). We had talked in the car about how we weren't going to buy anything, but that fell apart when Cora spotted a ballet bunny play set. And, frankly, if it had been a $5 thing I might have just bought it. But this was $20.95. After about 30 minutes of off and on tears and negotiations, she made the choice to put it back and wait for another time. It was a relief and a surprise. This girl, she is growing up.

I am liking the way age 4 looks from this vantage point: five weeks to go!

Four new reasons why spring has to be on the way

2010-03-12T12:03:00.006-06:00

This morning was a good morning. I dropped Cora off at school and we went through our new ritual where she walks me to the lunchroom door, gives me something out of her "pocket", holds the door for me, gets one more kiss, and then runs back to her cereal. Then I went to my favorite neighborhood cafe for a coffee and a muffin (plus a bag of coffee beans and a baguette) and waited for the Co-op to open. There is something about going to the co-op that makes me happy about cooking. I've struggled with that this year, with finding the happy in the cooking, as exhaustion and cooking for a preschooler has taken a toll. But I've got it today, and I am happy about that.

(I have to point out: preschooler. Not toddler. I'm trying to break the habit of calling her a toddler, because she is so not a toddler. A mother of one of the 2nd graders who is at Cora's daycare for before and after schoolcare stopped me in the hall the other day to say she had had quite a conversation with my daughter, and can't believe how many words she knows. I know! It's crazy! I love it! She also winks!)

Today at the co-op they had something guarenteed to stop me in my tracks. Seeds. A big display of seeds.

It is only March. Early March. I exercised restraint and only bought four packets. Brought them home. Took their picture. Decided I wanted to be able to see them all the time until I get their little seed-butts in the ground. (The best joke in our house right now? "Guess what!" "What?" "Chicken butt!" Oh yeah. Incredibly funny EVERY TIME.) SO, of course, I taped them up on the cupboards in the kitchen.

Where I tape all the things I want to see everyday. Don't you?

(One day, probably in an alternate universe,
I will have two English bulldogs
and their names will be Muscles and Roosevelt. )

What groundhog? or, thinking of spring and fresh food

2010-02-12T09:42:00.004-06:00

I was surprised what an impression Groundhog Day made on Cora. She came home knowing all about Punxatawny Phil, though she insists he lives in Milwaukee and is named PunxaTONY Phil. She was disappointed about the six more weeks of winter. She was a real snow bunny last year, but this year she is not into it at all. This year it is all about spring, and when is spring coming, and how in the spring it will be warm and Daddy will be home!

We have a book, When Will It Be Spring?, that we have been reading often this month. It's about little Alfie bear and his first hibernation and he keeps waking up his mama to see if it is spring - he mistakes frozen leaves for birds in the trees, a hunter's campfire for the sun, and snowflakes for butterflies. Cora and I take turns being Alfie or Mama and playing the game of the story.

We talk about how in spring we can plant her garden again with radishes and carrots and pink flowers. In spring we will start getting vegetables from the farmers again - we reupped for the CSA, hooray! - and we will get out her tricycle and be able to walk to the park again. We'll plant my flowers again. We'll attack the weedy bits of the garden again. We'll have patio parties again and grill again.

I am particularly excited about the CSA and having more fresh and local produce. I was thinking the other day about the places I go to buy our food, and how somethings can only be had from certain stores and that is what keeps me from cutting out one of them. There's Whole Foods (the cats' crunchies come from here - lowest protein content without filler and without prescription food prices), the conventional grocery story (my usual brands of certain canned and packaged foods come from here, plus it is the most convenient to our usual driving routes), the co-op (local produce, local cheeses, locally roasted coffee, one cat's canned food), the CSA, the grocery delivery service (though I am using them less as I recommit to eating more produce and I like to pick that out myself, and see it before I buy it), and during the warmer months the farmers market (especially for the local organic meat). Now, even I can look at this paragraph and see one good reason why I have no spare time! The easiest to cut out, and the ones I have the most reason to cut out, are also the most convenient: the conventional store and the delivery service.

I'm also thinking about this because I just watched Jaime Oliver's TED prize talk over at TED.com, and it was inspiring and reminded me of all the ideas and plans I had when I read Michael Pollan's In Defense of Food and Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and whenever I pick up one of my favorite cookbooks. I really do want to be making more of our food. I really do want that food to have more grains and produce in it. I really do want to pass on to Cora a passion for cooking and for, as my favorite cafe puts it, good real food.

And I want to do it without waiting six more weeks for spring. (Ha! We live in the upper midwest; we probably have eight to ten more weeks until spring!) Which is why I'm off to the co-op today to buy poblanos, white onions, potatoes, chard, leeks, a rutabaga, a scarlet turnip, and some other ingredients for soups, tacos, and risottos.

And for brownie sundaes. It is Valentine's weekend, after all.

(the double rainbow photo is from spring 2009)

That's right, I MADE a dog!

2010-01-31T22:40:00.005-06:00

A lot of the dissatisfaction I have been feeling in recent months has had to do with how nearly impossible it has become to find time to *make* something. I made some fingerless gloves for myself around New Year's, with some yarn I had ordered online and then ordered Chris to give me for Christmas. Then I made a pair for Cora, who implied she might die a horribly whiny death if I didn't know her something immediately. Gratifyingly, she wears them almost every day. Then I made a pair for my grandma (which resulted in my mom buying me yarn so I could make her a pair, and my grandma commissioning a pair for an aunt).

When I was visiting my mom recently, I saw an ad in one of her quilting magazines for a book called "Sew Me, Love Me" - the cover appealed to me and I thought it would be good browsing, and my local library had the book, so I picked it up when we got back home. This past Saturday, Cora and I snuggled up on the couch to look through the book. She spotted a dog she especially liked and asked if we could make it.

I was pretty sure I had everything I needed already in-house, including socks I no longer was wearing (heel holes) that could serve as a body. So we headed upstairs and chose our materials. At this point Cora lost interest in the process and while I cut out the pieces, she completely unpacked her dresser and spread her clothes in piles all over her room. This had something to do with a dance performance she was planning, but we never got that far.

In short, I made a stuffed doggy this weekend, and while I can see the ways I would do it differently next time, and have some other ideas, I like this little dog. I think she's pretty cute. And, considering I have not attempted a stuffed creature in quite a few years (I think jr. high was the last time), I'm also pretty proud.

I read a number of blogs by creative, crafty people, and often I have envied their "I wanted to make this so I looked around and found the stuff and did it!" capabilities. Making this little pup brought me some delight of a kind I've been missing. It felt good to realize I had everything I needed. It felt good to realize I certainly had the sewing skills to do this quickly. It felt good to watch the dog take shape. It even felt good to do it all by hand!

And, does she like her new doggy? After about 36 hours of deliberation, she named her Alyssa.

Oh. Hi. Um....

2010-01-14T07:56:00.003-06:00

My mom pointed out to me recently that it has been over a month since my last update. But I can explain! (Not that I need to...)

We had a very nice Christmas season (as Cora likes to say, as in, "is it still the Christmas season?"). Chris was home for three weeks, and after a "storm and form" first week we settled back into something like our old routine. I know the old routine will never really come back - but I would like parts of it to revive themselves once we are all together all the time again. Because of the weather - a Christmas Eve blizzard makes for a pretty winter scene, but can also disrupt plans - we ended up staying home Christmas Eve (which also explains why we don't actually have photos of Cora in her Christmas dress and Swedish braids - perhaps a dramatic recreation will be staged at some point), and basically holing up for three days. I loved it.

The day after Christmas, of course, I worried that it would be a big letdown for Cora that there were no more presents to unwrap. But, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that the Advent calendar was done. No more doors to open. No more morsels of chocolate. No more little verses about woodland creatures decorating a tree. She asked after that calendar until New Year's. Something to anticipate next year.

New Year's came and went. I found that this year I am feeling incredibly resistant to the idea of evaluating the last year, let alone the last decade. Likewise, I've had very little interest in contemplating the new year or the new decade. Things feel stagnant to me, with less than satisfactory times behind and before me. 2009 had its bright spots, but the last few months have, over all, just been really freaking hard. And, let's face it, there's more of the same for the next five months.

Still, the drive to resolve something at the beginning of a new year is strong. So, here's the one resolution I am prepared to make: To spend more time with friends this year. I feel like over the course of the last few months I'm moved to the margins of some of my friendship circles. A lot of this has to do with my need to hunker down and figure out how to be a solo parent, to make a routine and reinforce it so we don't completely drown in chaos. There are a lot of things that I have, in the past, depended on for my sanity and equilibrium, and I don't have time for those things now. So I had better make time for friends.

OK. Next time, photos.

What a difference a year makes

2009-12-03T22:03:00.004-06:00

Last night Cora wanted to watch a Santa movie, and we settled on Christmas Eve on Sesame Street, a movie which does not technically feature Santa, but certainly has quite a bit to do with the jolly old elf. I remember watching this with her last year a couple times, too. But things were different this year.

We watched the movie (I'm sorry) during dinner and when we do that, I am usually actually sitting with my back to the TV, unless I twist around. But there was no twisting for me last night, because the real show was playing across her face. This time around, she laughed hysterically at Cookie Monster trying and trying to get a message to Santa, but eating each implement of communication he attempts. (Granted, she wasn't sure what kind of computer he was using, but luckily I was there to explain what a typewriter is. Or was.) And she worried when Ernie and Bert sold their favorite things to buy each other gifts. And watching the relief and smile that bloomed on her face when Mr Hooper shows up to return their favorite things...well, I admit that the full effect may have been lost on me because that part makes me cry EVERY FREAKING TIME. I still miss Mr Hooper!

And, thanks to dear Mr Hooper, I had an introduction to talking to her about other winter celebrations and Hannukah in particular. Then at the library today I found a nice picture book that talks about celebrating the nights of Hannukah and has really great artwork. We read that tonight and afterwards she said, "Mama, I'm not sure that I know how to say Hannukah!" Then realized she had said it, and grinned at her own accomplishment.

I really like the winter holiday season. I wish I could believe I will have time for all the things I love and want to do this year, but I know I won't. I don't think there will be much baking. Alas. Our decorating will be both rather piecemeal and late, given our split household. But, still. Evergreens! Candles! Music! Dickens! Burrowing in for a long weekend!

Forget sleep. I am counting on holiday spirit to be the balm my soul needs.

Still alive

2009-11-29T18:49:00.002-06:00

Sometimes I have something to write about. And then I think, "I could just call my mom and talk to her about it." And then that is what I usually end up doing.

Or I think, "Maybe I should hold that thought until I can get the photos downloaded from the camera." Which inevitably leads to the realization that the camera needs new batteries and/or that I don't have time to go upstairs and wrestle with the camera.

Or I think, "Maybe I should keep that to myself."

At the same time, I'm not ready to close up shop here. Just suffering from a paucity of time, material, and motivation. Luckily, the semester is wrapping up in the next couple of weeks. It has been a hard one, as one class developed a really unpleasant collective personality (and the work habits to match), and so teaching has not been the energizing experience it usually is and has instead been a serious drag on my resources. I'm hoping for better this spring. I haven't had the time for making things as a way to recharge, and ditto for cooking. Ditto for most reading. If the semester weren't coming to a close, and we weren't so close to having Chris home for a good long stretch, I would really be worried. As it is, I am riding it out as best I can.

Which is all a very long way of saying...maybe there will be photos in a week or two!

Struggling with vocabulary

2009-10-22T18:58:00.003-05:00

I don't know what to call what we are doing. What is it when you're still married, but one of you lives and works elsewhere, and not in the military?

What term do I Google when I am wondering if we are doing this right, with the least damage to our lives, our marriage, and our daughter?

How do I find the blogs by other solo-mommies in the same spot? (Or, good lord, are we the only ones doing this? Surely not.)

I consider myself a pretty skilled and creative searcher and I'm not coming up with anything. I'm used to being able to reach out through the keyboard and find some semblance of advice, community, and knowledge, whether it is about bring pregnant, dealing with knitting problems, figuring out what to do with a bunch of fresh hon tsai tai in the CSA box, potty-training a toddler, surveying what grade percentage other professors assign to participation in freshmen English classes, or researching cities we might have ended up living in.

So it is a new and frustrating thing to be stumped. Another new and frustrating thing.

Oh, 2009, you funny funny year

2009-10-14T21:46:00.005-05:00

Our first measurable snowfall came this year on October 12th - the earliest in my (gulp) 17 years in MN. Luckily, the snow had one fan. Cora was very anxious to get outside and play in it before it melted (a light dusting the previous Saturday had vanished by the time she got dressed). She dug out the snowball maker she found on the porch about three months ago and we headed out onto the deck. I think it was only about 45 seconds until she began throwing the snowballs at my legs.

An obscenely early snowfall is easier to take when you have a delighted and enthusiastic girl by your side.

The sound of a pot boiling over; or, in pursuit of my soul

2009-10-06T21:16:00.003-05:00

There's something I know about myself that I am really good at forgetting, which is that I need to spend a certain amount of time on things that are my own. Things like reading and sewing and cooking and baking and making. Things NOT like working and grading and cleaning and worrying and cleaning up the bodily fluids of various beings that live in my house.

But, like I said, I am really good at forgetting this and just working and grading and etc. And I get that pinched feeling. Then I get that pinched, bitter feeling. Then I get that pinched, bitter, panicked feeling. And then I let all the working, grading, cleaning, etc. stuff go to hell because I am starving and need to fill up on my things.

At least, I used to do that. It isn't really an option anymore, now that I have a small daughter and two jobs and am the only adult in the house to do the cooking, cleaning, organizing, shopping, and oh my lord did I mention the bodily fluids? I'm thinking of renaming the cats Piss and Vomit. I'm hoping that said daughter finds the emotional equilibrium to once more full embrace the using of the toilet. Soon.

So, I can only let go of so much for so long. I'm hoping to be able to make do with sewing a Halloween costume. I have finally admitted to myself that all the things I thought I would make for the holidays...not going to happen. Holiday baking? Not going to happen (feel free to send us cookies). Well, I have admitted it, but I don't think I have quite accepted it yet - as soon as I typed that last sentence I thought to myself, biscotti doesn't really take that long...

The little girl isn't the only incorrigible one in the house.

Mean girls? Already?

2009-09-17T13:28:00.001-05:00

This is the new game Cora has wanted to play lately: I have to be one of her classmates (let's call her Ann) and she is herself. Then she wants me to call her stupid, and then say her mommy is stupid.

Really?

Now Ann was also linked to Cora's introduction to the word stupid and the world of namecalling, so while a 3 year old's report on what happened a school is sometimes worth regarding with skepticism (you had pizza for lunch every day this week? really?), when something keeps coming up in the same way, there must be something to it.

And I can tell that Cora is mulling all this over. Sometimes she will ask me, "Momma, are you stupid...or not?" And her tone is genuinely quizzical. We've talked about what "stupid" means and when it is okay to say it and when it isn't and what we should say to people who call us stupid. And I'm not completely living in my rosy-colored world; I know kids call kids names and that I neither can nor should protect my girl from everything. Still. I had hoped we would make it a little longer before we had to talk about why some people are mean to other people.

Princess small talk

2009-09-09T23:42:00.003-05:00

This evening Cora convinced me to play princesses with her. This involved scrubbing the porch floor with damp paper towels, while she was Cinderella and I was Sleeping Beauty.

Cora/Cinderella: Sleeping Beauty, I'm glad you came over to my house today.
Me/Sleeping Beauty: Well, it's always nice to scrub someone else's floor for a change.
Cora/Cinderella: I have a fairy godmother.
Me/Sleeping Beauty: Really?
Cora/Cinderella: Yes. How many fairy godmothers do you have?
Me/Sleeping Beauty: Oh, I have three.
Cora/Cinderella: Well, what are their names?

And so on.

The new year

2009-08-27T14:02:00.002-05:00

The start of the school year always feels to me like the real New Year's Day and this year more than ever because this also the start of a new phase in my family's lives. Chris is installed in his faculty housing apartment in ND, and Cora and I are figuring out our new routine as it unfolds. So far she is coping pretty well - considering how much time she spends with her dad, how involved he has always been with her, how much she must feel his absence. She gets sad once in a while, and cries, and tells me she is worried about him. Oddly enough, there are not a lot of books out there for kids about dads who have to go teach in another state, so that she might see her experience reflected. Or maybe there are, and I haven't found them yet.

We are about to the middle of our first two week stretch without him. We made a paper chain to count down the days until we see him again. I plan to make a big calendar, too, for September, but things have been busy and I haven't gotten to it yet.

Part of the busyness is the night time...our bedtime routine doesn't seem to be working anymore. She's been stretching it out into three hours or more and she is obsessed with the idea of going to bed at the same time as me, and wants to sleep in my bed. Which on the one hand, I wouldn't mind, except that I don't want to go to bed at 7:30, for one thing.

In watching her dealing with this, I see myself. In the way she doesn't want to be asked about it, wants to bring it up on her own, in the way she waits to know how she feels and tries to put it into words, but often feels it in her body first. And in the way she can be fine, just fine, all day long, and then struggle at night.

I think we will be fine, in the long run, but I think we still have a way to go to get there.

Home Again: Countdown in session

2009-08-18T20:46:00.002-05:00

We just, just, got hmoe from 10 days in California - first in Santa Barbara for a reunion with Chris's immediate family. Cora finally met her cousins on that side (and loved them) and we enjoyed revisiting the UCSB campus, the bookstore where we met, and other nostalgic places (Freebirds burritos - the original shop - still awesome). Then a few short days with my parents and grandma really relaxing, with no agenda other than to hit the pool, open a bottle of wine, and otherwise just hang out together.

Now, here we are home again, with a million things to do before Chris heads off to North Dakota. And it is hard. And I am trying to remain the cheerful and capable person everyone likes me to be, but I am also really sad. And nervous.

A brief snippet from our day yesterday. We were watching some episodes of Jamie Oliver's cooking show that my mom and DVRed and Cora wanted to know why we were laughing at the show.

Me: Because he's kind of a silly person.
Cora: Why is he silly?
Me: I think he was just born that way.
Cora: Well, *I* was born happy!

Indeed. She was, again, an excellent traveller. (Except for an episode of carsickness on the drive from SB to Irvine. Um, YUCK!)

Is this thing working?

2009-07-29T18:50:00.002-05:00

We had the opportunity to make a little movie with Tricia's camera while she was here. Although I have not yet been able to make them play on my computer, I learned (from the wonderful Tricia) that Blogger will load it up and you can watch it on the blog.

Here is Cora singing a song she learned after hearing me sing it six or eight times: Aura Lee.

Career path? What career path?

2009-07-25T19:48:00.003-05:00

(Me, circa 1979, possibly designing my "girl detective" business cards.)

Today I gave my seventh of nine presentations to incoming firstyear college students about the academic expectations at the institution where I teach - about 10 of these sessions run concurrently and a large percentage of incoming students attend. The two main points of the presentation are the classes they need to take to graduate (aside from their major) and how college will be different from high school.

There are two sets of statistics I like to quote to them. One is that the average college student changes his or her major three times over the course of their undergraduate years. The other is that the average person will have seven discrete changes of career in his or her working life - and two of those probably don't exist at the time you are in college.

They seem to find this discouraging - along with the fact that in college you don't get time in class to do your homework. And, that homework? It isn't crossword puzzles of vocab terms. (Horrifying!)

Anyway, this has set me to thinking back and remembering all the careers I imagined for myself over the years. I'm leaving out "girl detective" - a Nancy Drew inspired choice - and mainly thinking of once I hit high school and through college.

So, my aspirations included: UN translator, marine biologist, oceanologist, bookstore owner, teacher, writer. (Writer: check. But that has hardly been a career. A vocation, yes. Definitely NOT a hobby. ) (Teacher: check - or maybe I get a check-minus for only being part-time? Without that precious published book, it's as far as I am likely to get.)

Career paths actually walked: bookstore clerk and then asst. manager, library services, technical writing, graphic layouts, marketing manager, adjunct professor, and virtual database manager (a new one! also part-time, like the teaching).

But tonight I was especially thinking about "bookstore owner" and I was remembering that I actually spent quite a bit of time, as an undergraduate and shortly after graduating, drawing up layouts of my store, thinking about programs I would have. So, this is back in 1992-1993, and Chris and I were figuring out where the cafe would go, where there would be a space for live performances, making sure there was room in the kids section for kids to actually flop down and look at books, where authors would stand to give their readings. And so on.

Don't get me wrong - I like what I am doing now. I'm pretty happy with my working life (though it could pay more, and hey part time people like health insurance too). But tonight I'm feeling a little sad about dreams gone by or dreams held in abeyance. I am pretty sure I've missed the boat on UN translator - the languages I used to be pretty fluent in are slipping away. But I'm not quite ready to completely close the door on the bookstore dream. Not yet.

A Flurry of Activity

2009-07-23T15:07:00.004-05:00

That's what we have around here these days! We had lovely guests in town for a week, and I hope soon to be able to post some pictures and even a video from the visit. Once I figure out, you know, how to make it play.

We're getting ready to send Daddy off to ND for the school year, collecting all sorts of kitchen stuff he will need and furniture and trying to think of everything NOW so that we can relax and enjoy our time with him come August. I hope we are all as prepared as we can be when it comes time for him to drive off - we'll see.

I'm getting ready for fall semester and all the wonderful readings and assignments I'll have for my students. I'm also doing some sessions on "Academic Expectations" (the subtitle should be: how college is not like high school and why you should be worried) for orientation days this month.

And I've taken on another part time job working with the mailings to sponsors and donors for a really amazing organization. I'm hoping this work will fit in as well as I believe it will with my schedule.

And I have an artist grant application to complete in the next six days.

So, really, you see, it is all very smooth sailing over here.

A brief announcement

2009-07-09T13:19:00.003-05:00

I will get the second half of the CA pictures up soon, but in the meantime I've been preoccupied. Chris now has a job for the next academic year, but it is a one-year appointment, less than full-time, and in North Dakota. Cora and I will be staying in the Twin Cities. It is a good move for him careerwise and it could lead to something more - or it could just lead to being able to pay the bills for nine months, which is nothing to sneeze at either.

We're going soon to find him a place to live, and at that point we'll begin to try to explain it to Cora. There will be a lot of changes in store of all of us in the next two months, and a lot to keep us busy. I have a lot of trepidation, despite knowing it is a good decision on many fronts. I feel lucky that so many friends have offered to help us out as they can.

Our new adventure starts in less than two months. Stay tuned.

Surfacing

2009-06-24T15:44:00.004-05:00

It has been quiet on the old blog lately because we were on vacation - a glorious vacation staying with my parents in Southern California. Cora finally got to meet her cousins on my side of the family (she'll get a shot at the other side later in the summer), and it was wonderful to see them all together: five adorable little boys and Cora. Plus my grandma, Nana-Nanny as Cora calls her, my Aunts, cousins, and an uncle, too!

One of our favorite moments was Cora sitting with a Mother Goose book and calling to her cousins, "Boys, boys! Come here so I can read you a story!" while they madly clashed their light sabers a few feet away.

(Cora in the spa with cousins and me)

I could write a long time about how much I love spending time with my family, and how we so rarely get to, about how much they all love Chris and how much they all dote on Cora, and the fabulous food we like to cook for each other...but maybe I will just list a few moments that were highlights for us.

(Cora and cousins all in one chair! Crazy times!)

Seeing my brothers and their families, and especially playing soccer with my brothers and their sons for a while at the park - and seeing that those little boys are all nice enough to let their Auntie think she can kick a ball halfway decently. Well, except for when she tries a drop kick. She really shouldn't do that.

For Cora one of the highlights was having breakfast with Snow White! My cousin Traci is an amazing singer and an all-around good soul and she also does princess parties. She came dressed as Snow White and brought muffins, sang songs, told stories, did a craft, and taught Cora a dance and generally gave her a fabulous morning.

Traci had told me ahead of time that she really preferred to stay in character, so Cora and I talked about that and we thought of questions we could ask Snow White - and she remembered the questions, and had no problem pretending along with Traci.

(Can you tell how much she enjoyed this? And that dress - she dances with joy every time she puts it on. Totally worth the extra investment in Oxi-Clean!)

Going to the beach, Chris and I and Cora and my mom. Cora, of course, fell asleep on the way, so I sat in the car with her for a while and watched the waves, the sunbathers and kids running back and forth. And nearly wept with nostalgia and love for it all. And this time around Cora LOVED the beach. She watched while two young women near us took turns burying each other in sand, and then turned to me and said very decisively, "I need a fishy tail, Momma, will you make me a fishy tail in the sand?" So I did. It's so easy to forget how much fun wet sand can be! I taught Cora how to make drip castles and we made an impressive drip castle fort.

Being in the spa ranks high in the list too - Cora learned how to push off and kick with a swim ring, and she had great fun doing that first with her Dad, and then showing me what she could do.

My youngest brother bought his family 3-day Disney passes, and only used 2 days, bequeathing us the third day. We had planned to skip Disneyland this time around, based on the expense and thinking Cora might be too young still. But. Wow. She loved it - loved the few rides we went on (all the boat-based ones). Watching her watch "It's a Small World" was like a primer on enchantment. We didn't see many princesses, but she met Mickey, and spotted Mary Poppins out in front of Sleeping Beauty's Castle.

We made our pilgrimmage to In-n-Out Burger (mmmmm), played lots of Legos, watched some movies, my mom showed me all her current quilting projects (always an inspiration to me) and took me to her quilt shop (where Cora was charming until she left with a "goodbye green old lady!" to one of the women there), we ate great food, we went to their farmers' market with Mom and Dad - one of my favorite things is always grocery shopping with my parents, oddly, maybe because it was so much fun when I was little, though they might remember that differently.

Really, I just love hanging out with my parents. Isn't that crazy? Don't I hope Cora one day says the same thing!

(Oh, and, on the airplane? Cora was fabulously well-behaved. On the way out she got to visit the pilot and co-pilot in the cockpit as we were boarding. Both flights she stayed in her seat, had some snacks, drank most of our shared orange juice, watched a ballet on her little player, and took a nap. She was quite the big girl.)

(More pictures in a few days.)

Dinner, Beautiful Dinner

2009-06-12T20:30:00.003-05:00

I wish I had taken pictures of dinner tonight, but while the beautiful food was part of the beauty of the whole thing, it wasn't the whole of it. There was the weather, the complete lack of mosquitoes and other bugs that make me stay inside in the summer, the perfect temperature, the nice company of Chris and Cora (though she did wiggle away half way through and spend the next 30 minutes carrying sand from the sand mountain to the sandbox...skirtful by skirtful).

So, it is hard to explain all the dimensions, but let me try with the food:
- Lemon-garlic chicken kabobs (on sale! less than a pound for the three of us, so more of a meat side dish, just like I'm trying to do. grilled to perfection by Chris.)
- Pesto pasta (leftover pesto, ends of two boxes of pasta - linguine and fettucine - and Cora LOVES it.)
- Golden beets (roasted while Cora napped two days ago) and blue cheese (organic and local from our CSA - perfect for me, but a little sharp for Chris)
- Salad (end of a head of red leaf plus baby spinach from the CSA plus sliced radishes from Cora's garden - she chose them, pulled them, washed them, put the slices in the salad, and even ate a couple slices)
- Plus Leiney's Sunset Wheat beer for the adults.

So, food that was on sale, leftover, needing to be finished up, local, CSA-grown, homegrown, that everyone liked and everyone contributed to the making of the meal. It might sound a little corny, but I love that!

This goes along with my larger summer food project - all those things above, and also to make a bigger push to eat more veggies and to try some different ones. Not too many new or different things tonight, but all the rest was there. This is in connection with a plan I have for my fall classes. One of the books we will be reading is Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and I'm going to ask my students to create for themselves some kind of semester-long project or plan (it needn't be food-related, of course), track their project/endeavor, and then their final paper will be a reflection on their experience, much like Kingsolver's book is. And just like AVM has sidebars with more information (scientific info and recipes), I'm going to ask them to have sidebars also.

I haven't done an assignment like this before, so this summer I am being my own guinea pig and doing the assignment myself. Then I'll also have a "short-form" model to show them. They will probably think I am the biggest dork ever...but, let's face it, that's inevitable.

Overheard this afternoon

2009-06-08T13:36:00.002-05:00

Chris was upstairs after putting Cora down for a nap and, in the midst of other chatter, heard this fabulous sentence:

"Oh no, Monster, I'm sorry, but it's not your turn."

Thoughts on reading and picture books

2009-06-04T11:56:00.005-05:00

Last night, after stories and songs and settling Cora into bed, I came downstairs and turned the monitor on. All was quiet, her bedtime music faint in the background, for about 15 minutes. Then, some stirring. Then, she said loudly, "I am tired of your tricks! I am coming down the chimney to eat you up!"

We've been reading various versions of The Three Little Pigs and the Big Bad Wolf. We've read the original story, we've read The Three Little Fish and the Big Bad Shark, and we've read the particularly delightful The Three Little Wolves and the Big Bad Pig. Now the original, you might remember, has the wolf actually gobbling up the first two pigs, coming down the third pig's chimney and falling into a pot of boiling soup, and being eaten up in turn by the third pig. The other two revision versions do not feature much gobbling of anyone - the little fishes escape, the little wolves all live together and the pig learns to be nice.

A friend asked me the other day how I handle scary things in stories with Cora - things like wolves swallowing little girls whole, wolves gobbling little pigs and then being cooked, stepmothers demanding the lungs and liver of beautiful girls, and the ever-popular red-hot-iron-dancing shoes. Scary stuff indeed, and stuff I absolutely gobbled up as a child myself. I mostly handle it through these multiple versions, showing that stories can change and be changed - this removes some of the power of authority from the originals, and gives some of that power to Cora. She can choose which version to hear, or to think about, or she can create a new one that is somewhere in between (she is a big fan of having the wolf vomit up Little Red and Grandma - not, I think, a version you will find in a picture book anytime soon). So, I told my friend about this.

Then, another friend who was there mentioned that in the Waldorf philosophy - the educational world her children were raised in - there is a bias against picture books, even for very young children. As my friend explained it, the idea is that you only read aloud to your child without showing the pictures, or from books that have no pictures. This approach, the philosophy says, allows your child to create his or her own pictures and learn to rely on and exercise her imagination.

"I don't think my daughter would stand for that," my friend replied.

I didn't really say anything at the time, because I was surprised at how horrified I felt! On the one hand, I see the Waldorf point. On the other hand, I don't see Cora's imagination being fenced in by the pictures she sees. She likes it when we get to the end of a book and there's a picture of the person who wrote the story and the person who drew and colored the pictures. She likes studying the pictures and talking about them - we both like the books where there are things happening in the pictures that aren't part of the text. A recurrent element for example, like the chipmunk in each picture of When Will It Be Spring?, always doing something different, always near the main character Alfie, a small bear cub. Or the details of a dress, a castle, the way the only color in the Olivia books is red, and so on.

And I think that when it comes to scary things, illustrations can help to make the scary manageable - it delineates it, the same way talking about fear puts it in a linguistic container, instead of letting it spill all over your mind. One of the pages Cora particularly likes to look at in the three pigs book is a close up of the wolf's slavering face - she sits and traces his teeth with her finger and stares into his eyes. Then she closes him up in the book. Safe. And then she pretends to be the Big Bad Wolf, and tells me how much she loves him.*

Right now I'm reading a new book by Maria Tatar called Enchanted Hunters: the Power of Stories in Childhood. In this book she explores "how literature touches us when we are young, moving and transforming us with its intoxicating, enthralling, and occasionally terrifying energy." She writes mainly about the books we read to ourselves as children, but also about picture books and the stories that are read to us.

At one point she quotes the poet Dana Gioia as saying, "The books we read are no different from the people we meet and the cities we visit. Some books, people, or places hardly matter, others change our lives, and still others plant some idea or sentiment that influences our future."

At the end of the introduction she says something I really love: "Words have not just the astonishing capacity to banish boredom and create wonders. They also enable contact with the lives of others and with story worlds, arousing endless curiosity about ourselves and the places we inhabit." I believe this is also true of art, of the stories visually told.

*I admit to being particularly pleased about her affection for the Big Bad Wolf, as he was my invisible friend for much of my childhood.

A retrospective

2009-06-02T09:28:00.002-05:00

I really do intend to be a more faithful blogger this summer. I have an idea for an assignment for next fall that I want to try out on myself, for example (more about that later). But, for now, for today, just to get back in to the practice, it's going to be mostly pictures. A little trip back in time with Cora.

May 10, 2006 - a smiler in her sleep.

April 20, 2007 - a serious moment with Corduroy Bear.

April 22, 2008 - a goofball at the table.

April 18, 2009 - always in motion, usually laughing.

Hard to believe...

2009-05-15T20:32:00.002-05:00

but most entries on this site are not from Minnesota!

http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/

(Enjoy.)

Being happy

2009-05-10T20:33:00.004-05:00

Oh come on, what more can I really say about Mother's Day that isn't being said, photographed, or blogged by hundreds of other people?!

I suppose not too many can also be saying Happy Birthday to their moms! There have been times in the past when it has seemed a kind of cheat for my mom to have to have her birthday on Mother's Day every couple of years. But more often, it just seems right that the two should coincide.

On the one hand I want to say that this is because she was so clearly born to be a mother - so gifted with love and patience and empathy and creativity. But on the other hand I have a feeling that, had the chips of life fallen elsewise, she was also born to have become any number of other things. My mother would also be (has also been - the vocation of motherhood encompassing so many other careers) a wonderful teacher. A compassionate doctor. A thoughtful mentor. A passionate artist. A dazzling cook and pastry chef (oh those castle cakes! That Easter bonnet cake! all the other crazy cakes she let her children choose out of her book!).

More than anything else I have to say that my own experience of motherhood has impressed upon me the wonder of PARADOX. Mainly in the sense that something could simultaneously circumscribe and enlarge your life. I don't think I am (any longer) breaking any codes of sisterhood to say that - I know for a long time it was all about just talking about the enlargements and not the limits. But they coexist, often in the very same moments, and in the best of circumstances one is more than warranted by the other. At least, I find it to be so, which bowls me over because I didn't expect it to be the case.

So, this was my day today. I woke to find Chris had gone to get us donuts for breakfast; we all had donuts and homemade lattes (yes, even Cora). A couple gifts: an ABBA CD from Cora (clearly she has ulterior dance party motives) and a Marie Curie biography from Chris (she is still my hero, 30+ years after I first learned about her life). We went to church and then out to breakfast where Cora refused to eat anything except grapes (frustrating) and shouted hello at everyone that walked past (mostly endearing). Then home to naps. I fell asleep almost immediately - woken up here and there by Cora's interactions with her dad (reading books...refusing a diaper change...alerting him to her "friend" in the room - a wasp...more talk about the wasp as he trapped it...screaming for a diaper change...and finally falling asleep). Later in the afternoon Cora and I watched ballet videos on YouTube (American Ballet Theater's Swan Lake, Paris Opera Ballet's Sleeping Beauty), I tried to explain the phrase "keel over" to her ("but why she wanna fall down? but why she so tired?"), then she and her dad played Legos and watched a video of the Little Women opera. Then we had dinner...homemade bread, mango and strawberries, crackers, and FIVE KINDS OF CHEESE! (Guess who was left in charge of the menu?). A nice fume blanc (this meal Cora opted for the more age-appropriate milk). A good day. A happy day, despite the frustrating parts, the tantrum (hers) before the nap, the usual spills and falls.

I'm happy to be a daughter; I am so lucky to have the mother I have.

I'm happy to be a mother; I am so lucky to have the daughter I have.

Spelling

2009-05-08T14:03:00.002-05:00

Cora has known how to spell her name for quite a while now, and she knows the letter that some other words begin with, and she can identify all the letters.

But today I started to think she might know more than she was letting on. I said to her dad, "I was thinking we could go to the P-A-R-K with some F-O-O-D." And then she started talking about the park. Does she know how to spell that word? Was it a psychic link? Pure coincidence?

We decided to test her. Chris said to her, "How do I spell my name?" And we waited with bated breath for her answer.

"M-O-P-G-I-FOREHEAD!" She shouted.

So. Coincidence, then.

3

2009-05-07T13:24:00.004-05:00

Cora turned three this past weekend. I remember when she turned two, it was like a switch had been flipped and all of a sudden so many things were a struggle. It's not that she's bad or anything, just very independent. Well, the switch remains in the "independent" position, but I've also had several opportunities lately to be reminded why that is a good thing. This is a trait that will serve her well in years to come as she runs into serious peer pressure. The ability to speak her mind and speak out for herself? I can deal with it.

She chose a "dress-up" party with her friends and she was very clear on wanting a "big big round round round cake" that eventually also had to be pink with blue frosting. I think the pink/blue fetish that just surfaced about three weeks ago owes everything to the scene in Disney's sleeping beauty where two of the fairy godmothers keep changing the color of Aurora's dress. The party was fun. We tried some games this time. And after a round of "Red Light, Green Light" I can see why we don't let toddlers drive.

She's most excited about her new books, art supplies, lunchbox, and clothes. She often tells us, "I need to do some art now!" We like that. We like that a lot.

Almost as much as we like Cora herself.

(p.s. The sweet birthday crown? Found it on Etsy, from Dream Child Studio. She LOVES it!)

Earth Day

2009-04-22T14:06:00.002-05:00

Dear Earth,

Happy Earth Day! I know, I know - it's hard to get excited about a party people throw because your health is so bad, and then what does it get you the rest of the year? Still, I think it is nice to feel like the belle of the ball, even if only once a year.

Here's what I'm doing for you today. Only driving a little bit, just to pick up my daughter and some library books. We're having a meatless meal - a cabbage and paneer curry (which, I know, sounds really, really awful, but I swear is really, really yummy). This meal may be offset by the fact that the cabbage cannot possibly be local, for example. Cora and I will plant her Easter seeds this afternoon: radishes and multicolor carrots. A good excuse to dig in the dirt and talk about where food comes from, and maybe even let her handle a worm or two (despite the fact that while doing stickers last night she tore the head off a caterpillar). I recycled cans and paper today. I composted the grapefruit rind.

It's a lot of little things, things that in the big scheme maybe don't amount to much. And maybe they aren't even so special as some of them happen all the time anyway. Maybe you think I should have made a bigger effort today, pulled out all the stops for a day, made one really grand gesture.

But, you know me. I'm more about the day to day, the everyday, the seemingly small, the journey of small steps, the long simmer, the love.

Kisses,
Your Tenant

Updates from the world over here

2009-04-10T22:13:00.002-05:00

Some recent photos...

Actually, I'm not sure which end is which in this photo. Or even why she is doing this. Also, I think you should know that Chris took this picture.

Cora's Easter dress, hot off the sewing machine Good Friday afternoon. Chris brought the blue fabric back from Jamaica in January '08. I have been keeping Cora from playing with that ribbon for about as long. Because I had this picture in my head and finally I had a chance to put it all together. I am especially pleased because I made up the pattern, and it worked! She must like it - she's dancing in it up on her tippy-toes. A sure sign of approval.

This is the outfit from the Cinderella/kitchen wench story of a few posts ago. You can see why Chris was thinking princess, not scullery maid.