Last night my children and I were lying on the full size bed in their room and they begged me to tell them a story - something that really happened to me. I was lying looking up at Sophie's bunk bed so I remembered one: "One time in the bus, we were driving somewhere. Billy and I were on the top bunk bed. There were three bunk beds: Grandma and Grandpa's, mine, then Billy's. We were in the top one. Billy fell off and hit his head. He split the skin of his head open and we had to drive to a hospital and get him stitches."

They liked that story and talked about it a bit (Nels has had stitches, too). They asked for another story. I was still thinking about my brother so I told them: "One time when we were pretty young we were up at the Mason Lake cabin. Billy and I were in the water. I caught a snake that was swimming, and I gave it to him, and it bit him."

Sophie said, "Why does all the bad luck happen to Uncle Billy?"

Nels said, "Tell us another story."

Now I was on a roll. "One time when we lived in California we were having a picnic with family,"* I told them, "and Billy was about to take a bite of a chip. And just as he put it to his mouth a grasshopper jumped on the chip and Billy bit the bug in half."

Nels asks solemnly, "Was the grasshopper white, or green, or pink?"

Sophie says, with authority, "It was green." And I think she was right.

* I neglected to mention to my children that all the grownups were stoned or sloppy or both.

Labels: birlo, Nels, Sophie

After a pretty kickass dinner made especially for Ralph and my dad (meatloaf, mashed potatoes, pain de champagne, salad with marinated green beans, olives, and blanched beets), my little family biked / walked a few blocks to our annual Relay for Life. The Relay - or as we OG residents call it, the Cancer Run - is a pretty big deal here in Grays Harbor (yearly we are in the top ten nationally for monies raised per capita). My kids are awesome: they are up for anything, any time of day, and they along with Ralph are the funnest people I know to hang out with (Nels, accompanying Ralph to a portable toilet upon lifting the lid exclaimed suddenly, "You can't go in that - it's not a living room - it's a toilet!" WTF?). We walked the track a few laps, had coffee, caught up with friends and acquaintances. My children hugged nearly everyone they saw that they knew; they inspired Ralph and I to hug a little too.

On our way home just before 11 PM Ralph, pushing the Xtracycle with the kids on the back, abruptly moved the front wheel to allow a car past us and knocked the kids onto the pavement all in the glare of headlights and in front of about a thousand teenage hooligans. I felt bad for both the kids and Ralph but I admit slightly smug that I am pretty used to operating that bike thing. Don't worry: tomorrow I'll be punished for my hubris with a big nasty fall or at very least, a snag of my chain and pantleg.

My mom bought me a really awesome lasagna pan today; mere minutes later I am sitting here wishing I had a banneton instead. Satisfying both my minor fetishes for bread and basketry.

Labels: bike, cancer, family life, GH, X

This morning finds me making soothing sounds to and careful motions around my LAZR printer in hopes it will do as it's told and print my little zine out without eating a lot of paper or making me cry with it's weird paper handling voodoo. I'm eking out copies at this point, but at least it's working.

Today I got up about two hours earlier than I usually do, at 6 AM (OK - I slept in a bit, it was more like 6:20 AM) to start making foccacia for my daughter's kindergarten class in our Thursday morning ritual. OK, yes, it's kind of a grownup recipe for little kids. But honestly, I had no groceries in the house except my breadmaking staples, some lovely roma tomatoes, and garlic. The best part will be when one little one pipes up about their hatred / fear of tomatoes (the ones I sharpened and re-sharpened my knife for and cut so carefully) and the whole class catches the bug and also start vehemently professing violent tomato antipathy. I mean those children are used to me and my food - they trust and eat whatever I make - but wee picky eaters are a contagious lot.

Tonight: helping a friend sew, crashing out early to a bad movie.

Labels: food, school, techy, zine

Yesterday evening I biked about 8 miles total - hauling both kids, two huge coffee carafes, cream and coffee cups for two dozen people, my Secretary's binder - and a chicken barley casserole - to my son's preschool for our Open House. Now as one of the school hostesses I'd like to see myself this way: hair impeccably coiffed, one foot extended in a classy patent leather pump, sweater seat or classy dressy frock, and I'm smiling and saying gracious stuff (something like her). Instead it's me loudly cackling and probably saying the word "cock" to my friend Shannon (who also biked with me, and is also loud) and I'm sporting really filthy hippie pigtails, sweat rings*, red face, and leaking barley juice that was at least fragrant (the casserole turned out beautifully) while my children tumble into the school breakneck speed and I'm pretty sure Nels was, as usual, fully cross-dressed.

At the end of the event - four Board members, so much coffee, so much effort and organization - we'd managed to entertain and enjoy the one family that did attend. I looked at Shannon (our President for next year) and said, "We nailed it!" and we cackled some more. In all fairness I do think the family that came to the Open House will be enrolling both their small children. And my family and I had a great time and a great bike ride.

Today Ralph and I met with a school administrator to discuss next year's plan to homeschool Sophie. It was a great meeting and we were assured that the school supports our involvement in any school programs Sophie would like to attend. But I was left with that distinct feeling of - for lack of a better word - company-speak. I found myself wanting to know more from this administrator; more about how someone privy to the school system felt about our WASL, about homeschooling; perhaps some candid talk about the troubles and triumphs of the system. As it is I am still dumb as a post to any political or backroom knowledge. Still, it was nice to meet and discuss; and it was very nice to know the door is completely open to us.

I felt so silly the rest of my day. I've been busy lately but not too busy to avoid a general contentment in my life. Is it true all I want to do is cook**, visit with friends, garden, hang out with my kids, bike, and clean my house? And if it's true that's "all I want to do" - isn't that just a form of living, and a pretty good one? How did I luck into having my life this way (for now)? Why do I feel so odd being - again, for lack of a better word - fulfilled, by such mundane stuff?

* I couldn't find anything on Google image search sweaty and gross enough, sorry.

** Today I made Cypress Easter Bread, sourdough rye from my own starter (pwnage!), and Rustic Baked Beef Stew.

Labels: bike, food, food geekery, homesteading, Nels, school

It's officially true: I am one lazy-arsed bitch when it comes to vacations. Suddenly whatever frenetic energy enables me to care for kids and home and school and outside interests while keeping my beds made and my bathroom spotless: gone. Last night I sat in bed and read Watership Down (parts of it out loud to my children when they'd come in and ask for it) while my husband bathed the kids and cleaned the garage and I just sank further and further into the mattress. What gives?

I decided to operate on the principle that if we listed some things we had to finish it wouldn't feel so bad to come out of a weekend knowing we'd done our fair share of R&R. So Ralph accomplished the lawn-mowing work, wired the house up for network printing, and worked on bike lights. I cooked a lot this weekend: fresh bagels, roasting a chicken, sourdough starter, soup from scratch, zucchini quiche and some rather excellent pancakes. It feels great to work so hard on things that literally get consumed so fast it's as if I did nothing at all.

And finally: we finished this latest issue of the zine (available for download late tonight). Mailings and distributions start tomorrow.

Labels: books, SNF

I've been working my way through Hitchcock films and have decided I want to live in a Hitchcockian universe. Especially delicious was my recent viewing of Dial M For Murder. Ray Milland!* I loved him so very much as a villain, maybe more than I've liked any villain. (- note, all trailers are a bit spoiler-ish and I wouldn't watch them if you haven't already seen the films):



Dial M was recommended by a moviephile I met after I told him I'd recently viewed - and re-viewed, and loved - North by Northwest (below trailer is a re-vamp on movie trailer styling, me likey):



Up next for me (I've already seen it, but want to again):



I just want to live in a world where, say, I'm recovering from gallavanting around on clandestine capers and I have beautiful slacks and shirts and patent leather shoes delivered to me in boxes and I whip them on and slip out the window to catch a cab and rescue my love and not only that, but later on I've had the foresight such that I can pull out of my impeccable pockets not only a matchbook and handkerchief with my monogram but also a tiny, useful pencil for dispatching secret messages in a pinch. And yeah, I'm Cary Grant. But also somehow, I get to make out with Cary Grant too. Look, it all works in my mind, see?

* And, um, OMG. I like Ray Milland, and I like Rosey Grier, and until now I had no idea they put their considerable combined prowess together for:



Words simply cannot express.

Labels: film, hilarity, random

Today I spent most the day on my bike and on the beach. I know this sounds nice and all, but it was very hot for me (HQX reached 93 and considering last week we still had winter chill I guess I just wasn't ready). On top of this the bike trip with my mom was harder than I'd thought it would be. In my tube-top dress and bright red face under a bike helmet I wasn't exactly getting wolf whistles, in fact I'm sure I made a few lads puke in their mouth a little bit.

Our beach trip was lovely. Friends Mikey and John picked Sophie and I up at 3:30 and we hit two separate beaches toting water and sunscreen as backup in the van. On the shore John repeatedly braved the waves while I watched my daughter over and over running into and out of the surf. After dinner and ice cream we journied home and hit the barely-cool house just prior to 9 PM. Quite a day for both Sophie and I and I count it up to my Good Mommy my daughter's skin remained entirely free from sunburn.

Labels: beach, friends, HQX, roadtrip, Sophie, weather

This morning a little after 8 my husband, daughter, and son rode off in my girlfriend's minivan. Sophie to school, Nels and Ralph across the state to see about a wallaby.* As soon as I'd had my half cup of coffee I did the following:

Swept / vacuumed all floors
Watered and weeded the garden
Hung laundry
Re-washed stank laundry and threw out offending stank-gear that stanked the laundry up
Washed dishes, cleaned table, cleaned cupboards
Cleaned rat cage and tidied kids' room
Took a bath and packed my bike for a roadtrip**

All of this done by 10:30 so I could go about the rest of the day.

My friend Shannon calls the work we domesticiles do "the Cinderella Chores". At about day five in a row of backbreaking housework one can choose to die inside or decide, somehow, this work is worth it. It must be nice for the people who don't do this sort of work, or don't do it very often because their spouse does it, or they don't have children to care for and who have conveniently forgotten they were once infants who had others do this work for them. You could trick yourself into thinking you were smarter or more accomplished or hardworking than, say, people like me and Shannon.

But of course then you'd come over and have dinner with us and think, wow, this is a nice family and Kelly's a good cook and somehow family life is just easy and falls together. And you'd be a totally wrong asshole to think so.

For this morning: biking with my mom in the sun and against the wind, protecting oneself with sunscreen.

* Mercedes sedan we are interested in purchasing.

** In light of the weather's caprice I packed gear to change into should it rain; of course today was a record high and so hot I wished I could have spent the day in my back yard, naked and cowering under an awning.

Labels: bike, chores, weather

It's noon and the van is packed, the kids have enough water (it's a hot day), and swaddled in my basket is a lunch of cheese on multigrain bread, roasted garbanzo beans (Nels calls them "grabanzo" beans), and carrot sticks in ice water. This morning I spent $7.34 for the food I brought my daughter's class (a weekly ritual), have exactly $21 for the tank of gas to the city and back( the trip will take every penny), and retain $2 to buy myself a coffee (with tip) on the road.

I'm tired of driving to Olympia and back. This is the third time in about a month for the kids' dentistry. After today, though, we will be done with sealants and fillings and the next trip won't be until their October checkups. If I had a few bucks to buy some lunch or visit Danger Room Comics or a fabric store I'd have looked forward to this trip. Or even better, if I had someone along with me to chat. As it is I am instantly thrilled to my bones with horrific boredom at the little stretch of highway I have to traverse. I've never enjoyed repetitive car trips and incline my head with respect to those who don't mind.

My daughter does well at the dentist's and doesn't even vomit later due to the nitrous gas administration (like she did last time). Driving back I'm impressed with my children; they are champs, not whining, not begging for McDonald's or ice cream or telling me they're bored. I have one earbud in (my iPod converter does not work) and the kids cope without DVD player or strenuous kiddie-music song recitation or even books, looking out the window and lost in their own thoughts. When we get home I give them something cold to drink and hug them and tell them I'm proud of them.

Labels: coffee, doldrums, Nels, roadtrip, Sophie

Last night I had two glasses of wine at dinner with friends (dinner was a nice time) and then two more glasses later the evening. This is a fair amount of wine by any standard, but quite a bit for me. My eyes popped open in the middle-of-the-night-post-drinking way that tells me sleep will not return for a while. Imagine my disappointment when I journeyed to the kitchen to discover it was only 2 AM!

Ralph once told me that if struck with insomnia (which he also sometimes suffers from) there's no point lying in bed trying to sleep if you can't. So I got up and sewed most of a shirt in my sewing room, knocking about on my recently reclaimed serger (fresh back from a tuneup) and fortunately not encountering any of the bad sewing mojo I've had lately. I passed through the bedroom at one point and found my son, curled up against his father but with eyes wide open. See, he'd suffered a similar bump in his normal sleeping arrangements, having fallen asleep at the table at Casa Mia while eating. This has happened several times in this particular restaurant - I guess that's some sleepy pizza. Here he was seven hours later quiet in mind and body and awake in a sleeping house.

I put my arms out to Nels and he silently clambered up into my arms. The next three hours we spent fireside snuggling in blankets, in the kitchen making Mexican hot chocolate, or back in his bed looking out the window at the "firefly" he discovered - a blinking light from a nearby tower on the hill. He talked and talked but what was better is, I listened to him, and he listened when I talked. I'd been feeling like the last few days I'd been ignoring him, often on errands with my mother or friends, or trying to get my chores done and including him in the process but with my mind far away. My mind and body were with my boy last night. And I guess if one is going to be struck with insomnia having company - especially company exhibiting such sweetness - ends up being better than sleeping.

Addendum: I had a really nice Mother's Day. Ralph really spoiled me with gifts (flowers, special breakfast, tickets to my favorite ever songwriter, and a generous gift certificate to one of my favorite ever places). My children each made me cards and gifts and we got to go to a Cinco de Mayo party that afternoon. Only mere "minutes" ago - to my mind - my children were tiny babies I lived for and slaved for who rewarded me with smiles and embraces in between crying fits and meddling with things and diaper needs. Things look much the same these days except my children are intentionally communicating how they feel about me; Sophie's Mother's Day card said, "I [ heart ] My Mothr" (with her photo glued in the middle of the heart) - inside were not only two beautifully-drawn flowers but also a three-tier cake topped with a crown and above this all, fireworks! So I guess to her at least sometimes, I'm pretty awesome.

Labels: friends, holidays, Nels, sewing, sreep, tenderness

This morning at nine AM we dropped Sophie off at the countywide Young Authors Conference. On her shirt she sported a name tag and group designation, in her hand she clutched the book we finished today, "A Lost Mermaid." You know your child is happy and proud of their work when, looking it over, they are smiling with their mouth open.

Sophie and I worked together to write her stories, and "Mermaid" was the one she chose to commit to binding and illustrating. But this one was my personal favorite:

Some lions just hide in bushes until the zebras come close. Then the lions jump out and eat the zebras' meat.

Sometimes lions dress up as sebras and they play wiht them... then they take their makeup off and attack the zebras.

Some lions fly planes in close to catch the zebras.

Labels: books, Sophie

Every Thursday since school's inception I've assisted in my daughter's classroom twice a week - Mondays for art or math exercises, and Thursdays by bringing a homemade snack. I've come to love this part of my week, especially my Thursdays. I know every single child there and would truly love to take each home. They seem to love me too - not in the "novelty of a stranger bringing food" but in the trusted, I'm-a-part-of-their-world way - because I've been there consistently for them.

I have to say, at first my volunteering felt like something I should do to be involved with my children. But now nothing could take away my gratitude and gladness I've been volunteering my time. Not because I gave yet more to my children, and not even because I gave to other children. But because being involved with children has given a lot to me. I see things through their eyes, with their loyalties and caprice, with their delight and short attention span. It matters so little if they like what I cook for them (they almost invariably do), so over the last months I've learned not to worry about that. What has come to mean a great deal to me is to learn to serve and let go out outcome, to listen to each child as I pass out their food at their places at the table. Most say, "Thank you," many say, "What is this?" in frenzied excitement (today's offering was a last-minute recipe discovery). Usually as I'm slicing fresh pita open or parsing out carrot sticks one of the children will come and wrap their arms around me, laying their head against me, or tell me, "I always like what you bring!" with a shining smile. It's an amazing gift, that kind of unselfconscious display of affection. I put myself in the way of that affection by accident but I find myself so pleased to have it. By merely being there for the kids I know we will each be indelibly etched in one another's memories for as long as we live, even as a tiny thread of early childhood that brings simple comfort and joy.

Later today involves that kind of evening routine I don't look forward to: a series of meetings. First, the Afterschool Program with the kids at Central School. Following that, a Garden meeting and then a sewing date. I don't like to do things at night. I want to be home, cooking dinner, hanging out with the family. Nothing expected of me but food on the table. Each and every activity is worth it's while and I am willing and able to assist. Just sometimes I don't know how I'll get up a head of steam for my responsibilities.

Labels: food, school

I know all of you reading here agree I'm a great mother. Here are some things someone could buy me that would really let me know you think so. In relative order of desire:

1. Sofft Calypso, black (not suede) or brownwood, size 8 and W (D) Width.

2. Escential Honey Almond Scrub Mask

3. Down Low Glow (Ice Blue or Plush Red) for me bike

4. Houndstooth from Denver Fabrics. Or here. Or this one. OMG this one is nice.

5. An old (preferrably working) typewriter

6. These amazing earrings.

7. Sewing labels: Style #2; first line "HANDMADE BY" second line "Kelly Hogaboom", cream background with brown lettering, drawing "D".

I almost didn't get away from zappos today (Fluevog = porn).

Labels: consumerismhttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif

Last night we attended my daughter's kindergarten concert at the HQX high school's theater. It was glum and cold-ish at 6 PM when we biked up and then down a huge, steep awful hill to get there. I had to walk the bike both up and down - the "down" was at such an incline I didn't feel I could safely mount the bike and have Sophie do the same. And in my tippy Danskos at that with middle school students gawking. I don't think so.

The school concert was like being slammed into my own childhood, only I was a Mommy now. It was a familiar experience in some ways but alien in others. Parents, grandparents, siblings, friends, teenagers on chaperoned pseudo-dates filled the seats to overflowing. When the kindergarteners filed onstage parents a sweetness filled the room as parents began rising out of their seats to joyfully signal their own children (whom they'd just dropped off minutes before in the band room). With the hum in the air the rising and falling of parents in their seats reminded me of butterflies lifting and falling out of a swaying meadow. My daughter was in the first group out and the only child to, as she walked, turn and throw her head up to wave with confidence; they were all there to see her.

My son sat in rapt silence, bundled in his coat with his hair falling in his eyes, his gaze fixed on his sister and her big moment. Ralph got there late and snuck out after her performance to meet a friend. And a mere forty five minutes after we took our seats I was biking the kids home in the wet spring evening. We made pizza together in the kitchen and I hung Sophie's dress back up in her closet. Finis.

Labels: bike, family life, HQX, music, Sophie, weather

This weekend was a busy one - coming off a dinner party (of sorts) on Thursday we took in the school carnival at Lincoln elementary, the bridge opening celebration at the HQX Farmer's Market, the Shorebird Festival, and a private rollerskating birthday party (where I discovered I could still skate reasonably well). All traveled to by foot or by bike and on a shoestring grocery budget. Ralph also worked most of Saturday in the yard mowing, weed-eating, and finishing our "greenhouse" (which Nels calls a "pinkhouse" for absolutely no reason - the truth is it's kind of this DIY recycled materials shanty). I joined him to hang laundry and put out the starts I'd been working up: lettuces, cucumbers, peas, bush beans, cilantro, sunflowers, love in a mist, snapdragons, amaranth, sweet peas, and calendula. Now if only the cats would stop using our lovely large bed as a lovely large litterbox. In fact today I had a very, very sad cat crap experience I won't elaborate on. Yeah, it was really, really bad. Just know this and be glad it didn't happen to you. P.S. I'll be telling Billy every detail.

Yesterday's daytime activities were a very sweet affair: the kids and I played "homeschool" in part inspired by the old-fashioned child's desk we found at the Public Market's associated garage sale (where I also made a new friend, an RN who works up on the Quinault Reservation). The children loved the school play - and I mean loved it. Sophie would call Harris "the school cat" with the most pleased expression of eye and tooth. During the subject of "bath time" I made up report cards in categories Science & Discovery, Art & Creative Play, Exercise & Pet Care, Food Preparation, Personal Hygiene & Clean Up, and Conduct. I wrote things like, "Very good at washing dishes," and "B- : forgot to flush toilet" and, "Was the catcher during 'Parachute Toy Science Experiment'." Smart Mommy and Daddy readers will immediately see this enabled me to also get the entire house clean with their help. Maybe I'll graduate up to Coffee Making and Foot Rubbing extra credit projects.

Tomorrow finds me back to the "normal" school routine and I already miss our weekend together. We had a lot of sunny, easy hours together.

Labels: garden, homesteading, HQX, Nels, school, Sophie