Wednesday at five o'clock we got to our cottage - an extremely swanky affair made up entirely in shabby chic, accented with genuine nautical items (including huge, heavy portholes, my husband already broke one) and equipped with HE washer and dryer, stainless steal gadgets, a master bathroom with a jacuzzi tub and, in the other bathroom, a shower "stall" larger than my bathroom at home with one of those dinner-plate sized showerheads to pour a steaming hot waterfall over your head. So yeah: luxury. Today putting the picture-perfect pies on their picture-perfect cookie sheet into the picture-perfect GE gas range (cost: one million dollars) I remarked, "Wow, I feel like I'm baking in a Sunset Magazine kitchen." It's kind of gross, actually.

Yesterday during a biking outing in Cannon Beach we heard the electrical lines popping over our head; the entire town lost power for a couple hours. We took this opportunity to head into Seaside - a weird carny-like town my mother and I both carry an instintive suspicion toward - to find lunch (sushi!) and visit the aquarium, where I learned the Spanish for my favorite aquatic animal (pulpo) and my mom showed up as if by magic to find us there.

A multi-generational holiday can be a wonderful thing - if one can get past the myriad annoyances, like oh say for example this morning my mom waking me up by um, passing gas, loudly and repeatedly, and then locking herself out of the house, and then banging on the door repeatedly to wake me up to let her in (Billy! Do you or do you not see how tempting it is to treat her like a cartoon bear?). It seems like when the babies were younger my extended family helped out in their care so little; they'd take the kids for a forty-five minute walk and come back all flustered over the production (which I always found amusing; here I was used to doing this most of my days, every day). Now the kids seem to mostly mind themselves so friends and family invite them along: on walks, to the grocery store, and in town to Art Guild meetings. Life as a larger family seems to have settled into a mostly peaceful one.

We eat at 6 PM tonight, cornicopia and all.

Labels: FOO, food, holidays

I'm not sure what was more silly: the decadent sleep-poses I was able to pry my cat into (upside down on my lap, paws in the air) or the fact Ralph, my mother, and my brother would lean forward and watch avidly for each position change.

Our other little cat, Blackie, appears to be sick. She has a cold and seems even smaller and bonier than usual. Well, and more to the point - she's been out and out asking for affection constantly. We set up a vet appointment for her ASAP. I could stand to see her gain some weight but I don't mind the lovey-ness.

My mom attempted to get me interested in watching a German Shepherd for a town acquaintance. This is the dog I want in my life, someday. And I would jump at if it weren't for certain future living arrangements. In our future. Yes, I said future twice. I like to think about the future. I have declined to consider babysitting a dog for fear of succumbing, idiotically, to overwhelming temptation.

Our chicknz are almost four months old. Ralph is a proud papa of fluffy, squawky twins.

He still wants a goat. Nope.

And finally: Sophie is going to do some research and, if she plays her cards right (in fact what should I ask for in exchange? I really have her over the barrell on this one) she will get an anole for the new year.

Labels: Blackie, chicknz, FOO, Harris, holidays, Ralph, Sophie

(Skirt handmade that day by Jasmine!). Last night even before we got back in town from the beach our daughter had fallen asleep in the car. Nels was awake, listening to the grownups (myself, Ralph, Jasmine and Randa) talk. Then he'd say quietly, from the very back of the van, "Hey, dad?" He had an idea: he wanted to go home and put bells on our door - "with a needle" (meaning a small nail). We drove to a few lookout spots and talked. I felt pretty sick from the over-exertion of the day; or, My Lung Spot Is Acting Up as I've been saying.

By the way, in the picture above it was slightly normal when we first arrived at Copalis Beach, where we thought we'd put our chairs up and enjoy a small, quaint little fireworks celebration. After we parked things rapidly got more and more pyrotechnic, voilent, and crazed - the quintessential low damp fog of this beach combining with the spent remains of so very many, many fireworks being set off by revelers in cars, trailers, trucks, mopeds and motorcycles and including one charming (= shitty) camper with a Confederate flag prominently displayed and some jerk next to us who thought we'd all like to listen to Toby Keith, full blast, out his hatchback. Still, I like people-watching and I like relaxing into these minor circles of Hell where there's way too much activity and it's wasteful and gratuitous (the only thing that really bothers me about the 4th of July is the litter) and really viewed on the whole, kind of creepy. It's also kind of joyous and hopeless too. And the final mediating factor: my children love it, through and through, and seeing their joy forces me to be a little less uptight.

We had a few dinner guests this weekend:


Of course I've been cooking a lot, it almost goes without saying.

Labels: beach, food, holidays, Nels

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

My husband has been lying in bed sick, or under some general malaise, since early this afternoon; it was left to me to prepare Easter dinner (BLTs with homemade white bread, deviled eggs, carrot sticks, olives, fancy pretzels, hot tea), pick up tomato starts, entertain the children, do the preschool's laundry, tidy the house, and make these:


Please excuse the crappy Photo Booth shot; these turned out as beautiful as the tutorial indicates.

Happy Easter, all!

Labels: food geekery, garden, holidays, illness, Ralph

(Apologies that this is, in fact, a commercial. Thanks MF!)

Christmas was good this year. I even had a cat-nap - can't remember the last time I did that. Great food, good company, and nice, thoughtful presents. In fact, there are only - out of all the gifts that came across my stoop this year - two teeny tiny items that will be moving on from my house. It's not what my brother gave my family if you were wondering, because, you know, he didn't. Get us anything. It's the fact I'm so goddamned controlling no one buys my kids Barbie or plastic hoo-ha or anything they aren't sure I'm OK with. On one level I feel like some kind of present-Nazi about this but, yet, light as a feather and guilt free when looking at the high quality comic books, handmade clothes, coloring pencils, free-trade dry goods, cotton kitchen towels, dye-cast cars from antique stores, and locally-bought t-shirts that now grace our home. Also, more Strangers with Candy. Yesss!

I want to stress that I really am grateful for the loving friends and family but of course I play favofites: I've got a soft spot for the a homemade "Double Deuce" shirt from my husband. It truly was the craziest - the Swayziest - Christmas I've had so far!

Labels: birlo, holidays, Ralph, swayze

Now seems as good a time as any to reveal that for ten months now I have been really, really timid regarding writing about my new life here - and by my "new life" I specifically mean my friends and peers. I find that I just don't want to write about school (which takes up a lot of my time and thought) and upset my kids' teacher(s), or offend a schoolmate's parents, or write about my friends and upset the three ladies who have taken me under their wing since we moved (I know they don't think of it that way as everyone seems to think of me as an Alpha Bitch who needs no help nor coddling). Yes, surely, I am being paranoid: none of these people read my blog so let it fly, eh? But in fact I have learned over the last four years that I really don't know who's reading the blog, sometimes not until I get an email either offended (once) or, more likely, having followed me for a couple years and heretofore remaining silent.

Today is the day that I throw off caution and decide to just be me and quit writing about the safer subjects of my father's illness, or cuddling the kids, or whatever, and write about who I see during the day and what I do. Yeah, HQX is a small town; but so was PT. Yeah, I don't have enough friends to spare but I'm willing to work my ass off to keep them. Yeah, I'm not really "established" here but c'mon - when am I going to feel like I am, anyway?

Oh and in case you thought the last couple paragraphs were preludes to some great dirt: they weren't. I'm just officially acknowledging yes, I've been letting you down, dear reader. And as of today I'm going to grow a pair and write on.

Last night I was joined by eight local ladyfriends for a gift exchange and holiday party. I had a great time and I was honored to host. Because it was a group of women, we had plenty of food and a comical amount of beer stacked in my kitchen (I think a few guests left with more booze than they brought). Because it was me, the food was overly coordinated and excellent (I ate one hundred thousand servings of Jasmine's asparagus appetizer) and included an Aztec sherry cake - both delicious and hilarious. Because it was a group that doesn't see one another all that often, we only got about twenty minutes into the 80s movie before we stopped due to a lack of interest (not me! But I'm a dork like that). With the exception of two gals, I'd known all of them for 20 or so years. Isn't that just incredible? I felt so fortunate to have my girlhood friends, and my own mom - dressed like a rockstar BTW - all under my roof to share our lives together. And no, Ralph, we did not strip down to panties and have a pillow fight, although I hope you're envisioning that with my mom and all.

After a night staying over at my parents' (I joined my family there after my last guest left) my family returned home and centered our schedule around wrapping presents for our 4 PM delivery to our adopted Christmas gift family (pictures and details pending post-holiday). Dinner tonight was at Shannon's with her lovely family of five and after a lovely homecooked meal we stayed until 10 PM. It's like last night kicked off the final couple days until Christmas. Tomorrow morning: no school for the kids. Sleep-in for three of us as Ralph heads in to one day of work before the Big Night.

I am not as ready as Bonesaw, but I am pretty ready for Christmas. How 'bout you?

Labels: film, food, friends, holidays, HQX, party animal

Just ten seconds ago I was reminded of a parenting "tip" I'd heard years ago which goes as follows: your kid asks for a giant ice cream cone or to go on the merry go round or whatever you don't want them to have at the moment so you say, "Yes, after dinner," or "Yes, the next time we come to the park!" So goes the wisdom: that way "your child sees you are saying 'yes' to them but you get to set the limit."

Hey guess what, this is total bullshit. Because about 0.3 seconds into your deferment even the least bright youngster realizes you are saying "no" to what they want - which is to eat the ice cream or whatever immediately. I was reminded of this stridently just now when my daughter approached me with last night's Christmas Concert DIY decorated cookie (there were concerns that last year's guest Santa had provided empty calorie candy so, um, this year there was a cookie underneath the candy? I dunno) and I said, "yes, after dinner" with predictable results.

At 6 PM tonight the children and I are off to a church to wrap presents - for other children in the area. We'll see how well they handle it.

Labels: food, holidays

Early this morning our daughter woke us with crying in her sleep. This interrupted a dream I was having; a dream that we'd moved to a new house. The house was nice, but larger than our current house. We had no furniture. Everything was just a little threadbare but it was a good home. We were sitting in our bare living room wondering what we were going to do next.

Then this morning I got up, made my daughter's breakfast, lunch, and got her to school, fed my son breakfast and began to clean my kitchen. I scrubbed and scrubbed the eighteen layers of paint on the walls and cupboards. I wondered if my family was losing ground. For the first time I wondered if we were headed towards, not away from, poverty. I thought about how we aren't gaining any of the material items of the American Dream in our lives. At all. We aren't putting money toward equity. We have no college fund for our children. We are paying off on a family vehicle that is fast deteriorating and the one that's paid isn't any better off. We have no financial assets whatsoever besides my husband's kernel of retirement and social security. I don't think I'd be thinking about our lives in this way this except I'd listened to an excellent program on our local indie radio recently. I'd heard that families were saving less and owing more; they were working more in two incomes but hating it. I'd heard it was near-impossible to survive on one.

I am grateful not to be one of the "two income trap" families referred to in the radio program. This primarily means our lives have non-material assets instead of quantifiable ones. We live and thrive in creativity, something I wouldn't have guessed would be such a large part of family life. We help others and give to the community of our time - a lot of our time. We have a warm home that we enjoy and feel secure in. We have excellent health insurance that we don't use because we have excellent health. We are feeding, raising, clothing, and loving our children about 89% right (this is a lot, lot of work). We don't have credit cards. We are OK walking or biking where we need to go. We have family nearby that we see often. We are adventurous, purposeful, and try not to be wasteful. We take good care of and treasure the things we do own. Even if I have dreams that hurt, or moments that break my heart, I want to always maintain perspective on what I do have.

As of now it's 11:30 and I haven't yet had a shower. An hour ago I finished deep cleaning the kitchen and I'm currently working on a handful of Christmas CDs for friends. Nels hangs out, decorating and re-decorating our tinsel tree while wearing Sophie's swimsuit and demanding his favorite song (currently Peaches' "Boys Wanna Be Her"). I'm sitting here wondering why I want a smoke; it's been since Amore's last visit months ago. Luckily it's easy to stave off the craving; remembering my son last summer pawing at my smokes really turns me off. I guess I do need a bad habit though; ideas, anyone?

Labels: bad habits, financial panther, holidays, music, Nels

It would be untrue to say the reason I didn't respond to Chris' IMs - 2:12 PM through 2:24 PM - was due to "the largest poop event I've had to deal with in my life." The truth is, it's more like the biggest event for about a year. It really did come abruptly and without warning. Nels called me in the bathroom and - well, he was trying to take care of things himself and failed. As I ran a bath and cleaned the bathroom he said, "I'm sorry, Mama. Thank you for cleaning up the mess," but I told him the truth is, the whole thing was so out of nowhere and impressive I was amazed. I wasn't even mad.

No, what surprises me is how easily it was for me to go from being used to dealing with someone else's poop - on demand, at any time day or night - to being so, so blissfully happy and used to not having to do so at all after less than a year of reprieve. It seems one's default state of humanity is to not have to clean up excrement on a regular basis. Interesting.

A few minutes later, post-bath, he wraps the towel around him and strolls into his sister's room to select his wardrobe (his latest fad is dressing in sister-drag). After a selection from head to foot Sophie I tell him we have to head out to the van to go grab The Girl from school. Nels descends the steps and grabs at the back of his dress (actually his favorite rugby knit casual frock over a Mary Kate and Ashley full white skirt serving as a petticoat - he's the prettiest girl at the ball) and I ask what's up and he says in surprise, "My underwear!" Because of course, it isn't his underwear, it's his sister's. And apparently a set of boy tackle - even a miniature set - disrupts the fit significantly.

Speaking of Nels' garb, I found out I have only six days to get his little Christmas velveteen suit sewn up in time for the Christmas program. Time to get on it!

Labels: chaos, holidays, Nels, sewing, shit

From a few not-so-subtle comments from fellow Harborites you'd think that the Hogaclan being a no-Santa house is about as nasty as me punching, say, a small woodland animal directly in the face.

I'm sure we've all heard lots of complaints over the "over-commercialization" of Christmas - perhaps you're someone who's made this complaint yourself. But see, we here have Christmas just like we want it. We think about food, and giving gifts, and maybe giving eachother some. We think about who we're going to help out and in what way.* We decorate with greenery and, now that my children are older, construction paper. We listen to different music. We enjoy - I mean I really enjoy - the lights around town. I feel not one iota of shopper's stress because I make, not buy, the vast majority of presents we give and for those we don't give gifts to, we make an exhaustive list to send them homemade cards. I am so practiced at not thinking about extravagant gifts that I don't even pine for them. At all.

When I was a child Christmas was exciting for the things I've listed above. I remember, even when I was little detecting a schmaltzy tone to the "Santa" line even as I blithely participated . Even my parents' verify - it was about the "goodies", the presents, the food - not the actual man in the red suit.

Even so, I'm not militantly anti-Santa. Just because we don't buy in doesn't mean it's a problem that so many, many others do. In fact our family is going to a Santa event tomorrow - because it's fun. Just like perhaps you non-Christians might enjoy songs that mention the baby JC and you non-pagans enjoy the tree.

And lastly - my kid isn't going to ruin your kid's Christmas. First off, Sophie and Nels know that when someone talks about what they believe, it's important to listen, not to barge in with what we in the family believe (P.S. this goes for different food choices, different faith traditions or lack thereof. It's called teaching your child manners, and I do take it seriously).

As December descends I encourage one and all to have a meaningful Christmas whatever beliefs, traditions, religions or militant lack thereof, fairy tales, legends, or silliness fits your family!

* I think I've found a local family this year; perhaps in part helped by my SN&F proceeds such as they are.

Labels: holidays

Thanksgiving is come and gone. There was a lot of food. There were visits from family and friends. Yesterday I worked for ten hours straight and didn't even take a bathroom break. It was surreal. It was a nice day.

This morning we woke up with Nels in the bed (in between Ralph and I - how did that happen again?), and a curious kitty visiting each member of the family one by one with his snow paws until we all gradually had our eyes open and we all had our arms around one another. What's nice is we get two more mornings like this in the weekend, mornings without Ralph having to rush off to work and me having to get the kids to school.

It seems there were a few people out for walks today as the weather was brilliant and clear. Our foursome walked a little under three miles and it was such a nice time talking with the family - well, especially Ralph who's looking so especially handsome these days for some unknown reason - and viewing Skanky the Seal in the Hoquiam River. I finished Sophie's two skirts but lost energy before I could start sewing the dresses.

My parents arrived back home today after their Thanksgiving at the family's Mason Lake cabin. It was so nice to see them again tonight although being around them fills me with inner sadness I dare not show them. My father is having trouble swallowing because (we think) of the tumor growing just behind his stomach. He kept putting his hands to his face because his new medicine irritates the lining of his throat and mouth. I think it's like having one's entire mouth be a canker sore. The steroids are making him sleep poorly. He talked about waking up at 3 AM and being wide awake. I hated the thought of him being alone and wish I was in the house to sit with him. Despite all his suffering he was gentle and sweet tonight, chasing my children and hugging them. We talked about a recent ridiculous letter to the editor and laughed and laughed.

My mom was also bad off. We talked about some of the things bothering her for a while and she was, uncharacteristically, not able to feel better by the time I left. It isn't just my father and his illness, but also some of her experiences with her own father and two of her siblings this weekend. I think my mom's world is slowly crumbling in more than one way. I obviously know a lot more about her situation but there is no point to writing more about it here. These days I'm out and about I really will experience what people call "a chill around my heart". When this coldness creeps into me it stays with me for hours at a time, even if I look like a loving mother or caring wife or a happy friend - I still feel it there.

My children are a saving grace. They give me focus, direction, and ground me in reality. Life goes on and my children are evidence. They are irrepressible, at turns incredibly wise and ridiculously irreverent, made of sturdier stuff than the rest of us. Give them a nap, tell them a story, feed them, wash their hands or play a game of 20 Questions and they are as good as new, able to handle a hike or bad news or a visit to the hospital or help with chores. They give us lessons in survival and unconditional love. I'm not sure what I'd do without them. I'm glad I have them.

Labels: family life, Grazdma, holidays, illness, sorrows, the Ghost of Christmas Bastard

Today besides the normal drill of fixing breakfast and lunch and getting the kids read for school I cooked a mini-Thanksgiving "feast" of roast turkey, mashed potatoes w/butter, and carrot sticks for Sophie's kindergarten class - fresh out of the shower at 12:40 throwing potatoes in boiling water for a lunch date at 1 PM (yes, I made it and on time too), deep-cleaned the bathroom, entertained my father during a surprise coffee visit (our conversation actually took many turns for the personal depths, much to my surprise), took the kids to the Sweet Shoppe and picked up some catered bread pudding while there (the only item on the T-day menu I'm not making), took the kids to the Y and worked out, and cut out two dresses and two skirts to sew for Sophie. At my parents' tonight I realized I couldn't sew at home; my children / the kitten - someone - had got ahold of my bobbin helmet, a part I truly do need in order to sew. On hearing this my husband offered to haul my Singer 201 down the narrow stairs, put it in the van and drive it to our house to set up; the machine itself weighs 25 lbs. and is in a giant cabinet that isn't easy to carry even over level ground. I opted instead to come home and tear the house apart for the missing piece to my 15-91. *

Here's another reason I like being married to Ralph; tonight at 9 PM when I said, "Oh, you should go rent Roadhouse since the video stores won't be open tomorrow," and he said "Fuckin' A'!", grabbed our son, and left to go do it. So. There are so many, many people who would not have had that response.

Through a misplaced Tweet I found Devil's Night Radio and I'm loving it. Tonight I heard Nick Cave's "Stagger Lee" which I haven't listened to in nine years on account of how much it offended Ralph when I played it in my car.

Oh, and I found out that after working out and not drinking alchool for a little over a week I have dropped six pounds. People, just so you know, this is officially the first time in my life I've ever done anything approximating "dieting". I'm glad to have lost weight but I'm even more amazed at how good I feel.

So yeah. Things are going great around these parts.

* ETA - that was fast. I published my post, walked into the living room, moved one couch and immediately found the little metal part. Good times.

Labels: film, food, holidays, music, Ralph, school, sewing, swayze, the bod

I wish I'd had a camera this morning. It was pretty blissful to hang out with two four year olds to do all our Thanksgiving shopping. Well, technically Nels and my friend's child E. are 3 1/2 and 4 1/2, resp. but you get the idea. While Sophie was in school the two younguns and I avoided Wednesday crowds and got our action on.

So my Thanksgiving menu is as follows:

Turkey
Dressing
Carrots w/butter
Green beans
Mashed potatoes
Gravy?? If I can figure out how to make it!
Candied yams w/homemade marshmallows
Waldorf salad
Cranberry sauce (I made last night)
2 dozen yeast rolls (awesome recipe featured in November's zine)
Deviled eggs w/pretzels, pickles and olives (half-assed appetizer I suppose)
Pumpkin pie (made up and froze the other day)
Bread pudding
Apple pie

Today this involved the following groceries:
Bread for stuffing
1 gallon organic milk
Canola oil
2 dozen brown organic eggs
One huge-ass free-range turkey
2 lbs. butter
Chicken bullion (sp?)
Karo corn syrup (OMG... this list is looking so evil!)
Can pumpkin
Can black olives
Whipping cream
2 quarts organic chicken broth
Total = $73

Then we hit Jay's where I bought the produce:
5 lbs. apples (macintosh for the waldorf salad, granny for the apple pie)
4 lbs. carrots
10 lbs. potatoes
3 lemons
1 head celery
1 large bunch seedless grapes
1 lb. tofu
Total = $17

And finally, a few bakery items from The Marketplace:
3 lbs. light rye flour
1 lb. semisweet miniature chocolate chips
25 lbs. bread flour
Total = $18

So - $108 for the whole shebang (9 people to be fed). This doesn't include the ingredients I asked my guests to bring: 1 cup dried cherries, 2 cups whole pecans, 1 lb. coffee, 2 lbs. butter (yes - two more pounds than what I bought), 1/2 and 1/2, 3 lbs. yams, pretzel sticks, 5 bottles sparkling cider, and beer (volunteered by a guest). My sister donated $50 to the effort which I took out in Portland Aveda trade (um, I think I'm as excited to see Aveda as I am to have company over!). So - it's a feast, and thanks to help from the guests, it's easier on my budget.

Also on my list:
Shampoo the carpet (Ralph)
Clean the bathroom even though it's always clean
Wash bedding at two houses
Steal from mom's house: roasting pan and rack (make sure turkey fits), muffin tins, stoneware baking pan
Finish holiday mix tapes

And that's about it, really! Plus I'm making T-day lunch for Sophie's kindergarten class tomorrow. And stapling and distributing the zine. And working out at the Y daily.

Today at 11 AM while I waited outside for the library to open - Nels in a monkey hoodie and E. borrowing the pink kitty hat - the kids climbed all over the railing in front of the entrance doors. Those two absolutely love one another, being kindred spirits of mischievousness. As I watched them a man next to me, scruffy and anonymous (there were three such men waiting with me) said, "I don't know if I should feel bad." I asked what he meant and he told me he'd been feeling the dogs at the pound (a kennel outdoors by the police station and next to the local grocery store) and a rott puppy had squeezed out of his slot and was running "free" in with the other dogs. I told him not to feel bad. I asked him what he'd been feeding them. "Cookies," he replied. (!)

The things I like about holidays: the food, the people.

Labels: food geekery, goodness, grocery opus, holidays

Labels: halloween, Harris, holidays, illness, Nels

The weather here is, characteristically for this time of year, simply lovely. This weekend we got out as much as we could including a perusal of this year's jack o'lantern candidates.


I'm not sure where Nels got his aversion to dirt and mud but clearly, the knickerbockers I sew for him especially so he doesn't get his pantlegs dirty were not short enough. Next try: hotpants.


It really was a wonderful weekend for all of us. Carved pumpkins and roasted pumpkin seeds, dazzling sunlight, homemade bread, lots of cuddling, BBC's "The Office" (re-watch), fresh homebaked chocolate chip cookies, fresh air, great sleep, some extra nookie.

Labels: family life, gratitude, halloween, holidays, Nels, Sophie

I'm back at the library, hiding from the rain. There's a woman next to me with a passel of kids - one of them in a carseat caddy. Her kids are whining and fighting in the kid section as she types oblivious and in a few minutes when I leave I'm going to use this opportunity to NOT clean the child area to the standards I normally do.

I had a significant parcel of time to myself this last weekend; first, a visit to the Olympus Spa - truly one of the more nurturing places I've ever been - to meet Abbi and Becca (naked, all of us). Then up to Seattle to be shown the sites (including a new dot com startup office, fun for me) by a friend. Being with myself, being away from family, I caught myself really thinking and saying a lot of things that dismayed me. Inner darkness, hello! Hadn't seen you in a while. I was also surprised how much I enjoyed the bits of alone-ness. The absolutely crawling traffic north of Tacoma - fine. I was by myself, well-fed and nourished, with coffee and the iPod. Deep-breaths. It felt great and I think I need to do it again, and soon.

The holidays are officially commencing for our household with the Hogaboom Halloween preparations (it's been cute to find on the computer Ralph's plans for a Destro or Cobra Commandor ensemble). I don't find holidays at all exhausting because I don't feel pressure to spend a lot or go visit any particular people. I just plan things I enjoy (having said that, this season will probably kick my ass in some so-you-think-you're-gonna-be-smug karmic way). Sophie reviewed the fabrics I bought for her elaborate choice of costume (thank Sweet Baby Jesus she eschewed any frilly princessy garbage, at least for this year); my mother, away now for a month and missing my children, has been more than eager to agree to Nels' even more technically-challenging plan.

Tonight in honor of a recent amazing lunch date at Vic's with Amy I am making a double-crusted pizza pie; tomorrow, black bean soft tacos and slaw. My kids have been choosing our dinner plans (last week's highlights included homemade hamburger buns for burgers, homemade fries and Haagen Daaz milkshake).

The mom I spoke of is abusively railing at her kids to clean up while not helping them in any particular way (browsing at books ten feet away and barking out random commands). It's tempting to judge but I've been that woman myself.

And so goes the domestic beat on our Monday morning.

Labels: food geekery, friends, halloween, holidays, Sophie

For the fourth, we watched the recent Keith Olbermann's Special Comment.

We are also planning a family dinner and a party with friends. My children's first exposure to s'mores as well.

Happy Independence Day!

Labels: holidays

So - let's skip to the real story. I got my iPod this year. Bitches! I knew it. My husband could only hold off for so long (R.I.P.) . Things that make this iPod even more fun than the one that preceeded it:

* this one has a color screen
* it's smaller (flatter), and bigger (wider, with more storage space)
* it's cheaper (yeah, I know.)
* the packaging was teeny
* Jack Sparrow was on the package and his package is not teeny

I am in many ways a spiritual person but damn. Not when it comes to Mac gadgets. And before you think I'm shallow, please know that I don't really give a damn what you think - also, I really do only have TWO gadgets and they are both white and chrome and Mama loves them very much.


Seconds prior to present-opening.


My mom's home-grown hand-crafted wares.


Christmas Day dinner:

Bruschetta, Cabbage Rolls, Potato Latkes, Strawberry Spinach Salad (minus the strawberries), sparkling cider, and a Guinness Cake (not pictured: the little bastard is still contemplating his doom!)

Labels: family life, FOO, food, holidays, Nels, Ralph, Sophie, the Ghost of Christmas Bastard

(Here's mine last year - for reference).

Hogabooms:

• traditional Christmas pajamas, opened Christmas Eve (Ralph did PJ reconnaissance)
  
• 2 x glue sticks, marker set, fingerpaints, scissors, construction paper, watercolor and fingerpaint pads (from my parents)
• this crazy-assed fucking popcorn that has chocolate, pretzel sticks, and craisins and is just... insanely tasty (from my parents)

Ralph:

• Mauna Loa Kona Coffee Macadamian nuts (in stocking, courtesy of Paige)
• 2 x boxers (from Sophie)
• An Inconvenient Truth (from me)
• leather-clad flashlight from Sundance (from my parents)
• hot-ass jeans (from me)
• Homemade gingerbread house (made by Sophie at preschool)

Kelly

• 1 package Newman's Own caramel cups (in stocking, courtesy of Ralph)
• Candle card (made by Sophie at preschool): "Dear Mama, You have a present - so much that I bet you would like to see it!"
• video iPod - aw yeah, I just slip it in there all casual-like! (from Ralph)
  
• Homegrown teas, Italian seasoning mix, and blueberry jam (grown / made by my mom)

The kids:

• Kitchen set - pots, pans, and spatulas etc. (from me)

Sophie:

• Monster finger puppet (googly-eyed), toy helicopter bath toy, tie-dye panties, monkey bubblebath (in stocking)
• 3 x white socks (from Ralph)
  
• Bug case with 2 types of magnification (It's science!)
• I SPY Mystery book (from my dad)
• Brown and black ribbed tights (from Ralph)
• 3 X panties, black and white tights (from my parents)
• 6 x socks (from my mom)
  

Nels:

• Monster finger puppet (crab monstrer), wind-up robot, tie-dye briefs, fish bubblebath (in stocking)
• Boat bath-toy (from Mama)
• Drawing of Christmas tree and "Scary Hand" (by Sophie)
• How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight? (from my dad)
• 6 x socks, 6 x briefs (from my mom)
• 3 x undershirts (from Ralph)
• 6 x briefs (from Ralph)
  

Gee, see a pattern? Socks and underwear for the kids, particularly for Nels (thirteen pair of knickers!) who is going to think of Christmas as a holiday all about "big boy pants". I am proud to say my children really enjoyed my presents. Nels played with his tiny windup robot ($1.50 at a local shop) for hours.

Other Christmas loot of note:

• An all-day adventure to the Pacific Science Center on Saturday, all-expenses paid (from Cynthia and Paige)
• A great conversation with my sister on Christmas Eve
• Many lovely cards (some handmade) from friends
  
• A Christmas Day run at the track (courtesy of iPod and my beloved Beyonce)

Labels: consumerism, family life, FOO, holidays

Today I stumbled upon pictures of our foursome from the last two Christmases at the little cottage that we rented in Cannon Beach, Oregon. I grew inexplicably misty thinking of our mini-tradition away from home; the familiarity of the Christmas-lit shops, the beauty of the wind-torn beach, the familiar pub a block down from our home away from home. Our trip back up two years ago where Sophie rode with my parents and they reported she spent half of the ride viciously giving her new stuffed animal (Goodebunny) discipline: hissing "Do you want a timeout?" in the meanest duck voice possible. The fun of the Oregon lack of salestax which allowed our $5 Christmas rules to be observed de rigueur.

For us this year, Christmas is being celebrated in an increasingly unusual fashion; never mind we are not in Oregon, we are also (for the first time in my life) without my FOO. I was sad for half a car ride (as I talked it out with my husband) until I re-oriented myself to my own little family and the projects therein. Now I feel a sense of wonderment as the holiday gently spirals out of my control and out of my plan. The plan to have a series of packages mailed out to closest friends? Derailed. Presents entirely handmade? No. A Christmas dinner complete with guests? Cancelled. I did manage (with minimal help from my spouse) to send out our homemade Christmas cards (every year, after careful selection, addition, and culling, we hover at sixty to seventy cards), our own tradition that we enjoy immensely. About half of the changes in our Christmas routine were due to my illness which put me out of the running for a solid three days (and I'm just glad no one else in my family got sick).

With an absence of Christmas precedents in effect, new activities must be planned. In that vein today ended up being beautiful, but rather exhausting. The first thing I did this morning was a (near-)three mile hike with Erica (I got to see her "new" baby to boot). As soon as I got home my husband took to a full shopping day with a friend and I found myself gifted with my children (who I am growing so familiar with as to not even contemplate alone time much anymore) to run my errands. First, the once-a-week menu planning, shopping list, and grocery (which included a large Christmas Day dinner plan) then the entireity of my family gift shopping downtown in torrential rain - half the time, with one increasingly-heavy child sleeping on my shoulder.

Christmas pajamas have been opened and donned. We have taken the drive to our town's "Candy cane lane" to look at the lights. The stockings are up. One million presents remain to be wrapped and inserted under the tree (actual number will be reported tomorrow). Thank you baby Jesus and happy holidays, one and all!

Labels: family life, FOO, holidays, PNw

This series of 70 pictures made my day today.

Here are some of my favorites.

Labels: hilarity, holidays, random

This morning I took the kids out to their favorite park, as requested. It felt like it had been quite some time since I'd had fresh air. Perhaps because we had been snow-bound for a while, or perhaps because my children and I have moved into a different phase in our life together, the three of us had a very harmonious hour and a half on the park grounds (read: they let me go to the bathroom without drowning themselves in the sea; Nels did not run away in the opposite direction of Sophie *every single chance he got*, I actually listened to and followed the suggestions of my wee ones instead of barking out orders while clutching my precious, precious coffee). I attended them in the childish activities that to many must look boring: swings, monkey-bar spotting (my son copies everything his older sister does, no matter how terrifying to himself or me), leaf-scuffing, creek bed exploring. Instead of fervently hoping for another Mama to join me, or allowing my mind to race about thinking of chores I have to do, beans to soak, toilets to scrub, I just accepted I was not doing any of those things *now* and I really attended my little ones. I sat, swung, walked with them. We ate lovely, heavenly fresh hearth rolls from the uptown bakery and they took my breath away with the beauty that bloomed on their rosy cheeks and noses.

I find myself begrudging how quickly my children are growing up. Why do I ever want any stage, any difficulty, to end? I should desire and hold onto everything, and I mean everything. The late nights, the crying, the clinging at naptime. A year ago I was breastfeeding my son and could still remember, vividly, breastfeeding and diapering my daughter. Now I am adrift, afloat, no longer a physical necessity except in my performance of slave labor (daily) that I now have learned to love. Now. My children are both potty-trained, both weaned, and I am ten pounds heavier in part because every day I think of, shop, buy, and prepare their food. And I make no milk. No nursing; I realized the other day with a small, angry mix of pride and sadness that *just anyone* could take care of my children now (although, of course, no one else really does). I suppose this was true from the day they were born, but my unique gifts of my milk, my love, my voice, my intelligence, my body, and the pain in the ass of a diapered child somehow kept them more within my exclusive realm. Now I know they are growing upward and onward, and although they will always remained tethered to me and I have formed a Goddess-image for them - they will need me less and less. It is time for them to take flight a little more and for me to pull back into myself, my art, my work, my marriage - just enough to not resent their going.

As I type this my children, back from a fancy-festive Christmas party, are putting together their new Christmas gifts (note that Nels' comes with a key-fob so you can take your precious pets with you - "up to 18 hours" and I don't have to tell you what happens after 18 hours). With dad's help, of course.

Labels: family life, holidays, party animal, tenderness

Well, I am feeling wretched today - it seems December, in two days, has already brought a share of disappointments. So I was oddly cheered when I discovered about five minutes ago that I have actually recieved something like *four comments* on my sewing blog (I'm not really sure how anyone finds it either - I lost my links at this oft-visited page and have been too lazy to put them up). Right now I have no camera (except my assy iSight on the Mac - a camera that always includes my rather messy and grungy laundry room background) so my sewing and knitting efforts (re-conn'd pants! left-handed knitting!) have gone undocumented.

But sadly, at this moment the more depressing circumstances in my life are overcoming the good. My parents won't be around for Christmas while my remaining immediate family member - my brother (viewed here with hospital bracelet regarding an episodic severe intestinal illness) told me he'd rather have Christmas by himself, my husband doesn't seem to care how much I am sad about not being with my FOO. Two friends have gone AWOL while I worry about their personal circumstances, one friend broke up with me, my older child is ill, and my younger child is growing out of his clothes too fast. And last but not least, Blogger Beta is acting like a gay and our bank account will be hitting bottom on Monday with four days left until payday.

Wow, it actually did not make me feel better to write that all out. Anyone interested in keeping me from throwing myself in front of a fast-moving train, feel free to send me a cheer-up email. Or barring that, a train schedule.

Today while the children napped (like canaries, their sleep-response seems proportionate to daylight) my husband and I wandered around the house, bored, ineffectual, too lazy to jump into our typical uber-housecleaning weekend frenzies. I was too cold and he was too warm (as usual) and we had carefully not over-scheduled our weekend - so now we had nothing to do. This afternoon while I cut out a pair of flannel pajamas he ventured into the attic to pull a cheesy-ass tinsel tree (via Freecycle) and thrift store lights out of the attic. Our now-garish living room awaits the awakening of the oldest child (yes, she is STILL napping, at almost 7 PM!) who will doubtless be thrilled at our impressively "festive" living room. Now that my knitting is caught up I am currently searching for an *easy* sock pattern for Sophie and feeling overwhelmed at the idea of assembling Christmas presents together this year.

Looks like it's lumps of coal for many of you.

Labels: birlo, FOO, friends, holidays, Ralph, worries

This morning at 7:30 I slip out from between my two children as they sleep. Like magnets they click together and resume their mutual slumber. Into the kitchen, start the coffee. Turn up the heat. For the second morning in a row, I stand at the window of my sewing room and smoke a half a cigarette. I take a quick shower, wipe down the bathroom floor, and put my clothes and towel in the laundry.

I peek in the bedroom and my children still sleep. In the kitchen, still in my towel, I make and put a puff-pankcake in the oven and set the timer. I have been baking hot food for breakfast the last few days, too. Yesterday was corn pudding, the extra portions of which I shared with two good friends.

Today I will be in charge of finishing packing the family's clothes and toiletries, rolling up freshly-washed sleeping bags and putting the rain boots in the car. I will also balance our checkbook, finish the laundry (which includes, rather oddly, a large rubber snake that was inadvertantly peed on by Nels), put cat food and water out, buy our Thanksgiving groceries (mercifully only a two-store stop), pick up a gift for my sister's birthday and wrap it, and buy buttons and ribbon for clothes I finsi. And maybe - just maybe, if I have time - finish sewing a pair of pants for my son.

Today after my husband gets off work we will venture out on Highway 101 for an hour and a half's drive to my family's cabin at Mason Lake. My great-grandfather built it, and it's a log fucken cabin - not a "cabin" that is actually a cute little condo (although many of our neighbors have "upgraded" to such forms of vacation dwellings). I have mixed feelings about the cabin. Amongst them are an antipathy toward the legacy of my grandmother's (gone four years now) authoritarian regime and grandfather's (my lone surviving grandparent) patrician assholian nature. I also feel a slight skin-crawl at my own mother's crowing pride at the place, which is really a kind of ugly lumpy edifice and includes such things as a "deer-hoof coatrack". But I am still glad it's there and if it passes out of my family's hands in this lifetime I will miss it.

As I type this the house is filling with an eggnog-y smell and hums with the dryer. Sometimes I wish I could wake up to a mom in the house.

Labels: family life, FOO, holidays, homesteading, PNw

OK, now that we're about three seconds into the month of October, it's time to bring out my pathetic way-too-into-Halloween self.

Sophie, Halloween two years ago:


Halloween last year:






Sophie and Ralph's punkin carvin' this afternoon:




I was going to post pictures of my husband's new fall mustache attempt. But it is really so filthy I can't bring myself to do it.

Labels: family life, holidays, Ralph's filthy 'stache, Sophie