Fancy Studio Session (on a blanket. on the floor.)

Be warned. I'm a mama with a camera, and no one tried to stop me...except for Aidan, and he's too little to stop me.


It all began when I tried to get a picture of Aidan wearing the sunshine that my friend Rebecca crocheted for him.  Aidan wasn't thrilled with my attempt.

Then he learned that he has hands.  He has HANDS!  This was exciting.

He gave me this look when I told him to smile at the camera.

Then he spit up all over the sweater.  I assumed he was trying to cut my snapshotting short, so, undeterred, I took off the sweater and kept clicking.

Sorry, sweetheart.  You can't stop me that easily.

(Seriously, Mama?  C'mon...)

(Oooooh! HANDS!)

(Having hands makes me HAPPY!)

(So VERY happy!)

(What? EVERYONE has hands?!?!)

(Blerbbbbeeebhhgggghh.)

THE END.

Whadda Tomato

(That's what my Dad once told me boys used to say in admiration about a particularly lovely girl.)

When all 124 tomato plants started showing signs of blight for the third or fourth year in a row, I resigned myself to no tomatoes.  That way, any tomatoes we received, no matter how few, would be a pleasant surprise.

God was gracious, and in spite of blight, these half-dead and dying plants gave (and are giving) us enough tomatoes to gobble to our heart's content and to can for winter sauces and curries.  I am GLAD to have a kitchen stuffed with tomatoes, GLAD to trip over the annoying things in the night, GLAD to have fruit flies swarming through the kitchen when they find tomatoes with bad spots.  Really, I am.  For the last several years, we haven't harvested enough tomatoes from our garden for canning, and most of those I stuffed into jars were from the generosity of others.

So these pictures are doubly wonderful.

Susie was picking out a tomato to munch on here.  Note: she had already stuffed one in her pocket.

About six dozen of our plants were started from seed indoors, and I'm really pleased with the Amish paste tomatoes.  So pleased, in fact, that I asked them to form a chorus line with greenhouse-purchased romas for comparison.  As you can see, the Amish paste tomatoes are huge.  They fill jars much more quickly. (They can also kick their legs higher in the chorus line.)

Plus, it's a joy to heft them in one's hands.

All that green?  WEEDS.  All that red?  TOMATOES.

What would I do without this muscular sidekick? (Hey, he tried.)

Another One for Her Majesty

Yup.  Thanks to Mildred, I have another recipe to send to Queen Elizabeth.

One morning Millie made lavender blossom muffins, and I took a picture of the leftover muffins resting on the dirty kitchen table with John's black bathrobe as a background.

You can bet I won't share that information with the Queen Mother, though.

Monsanto Loves this Post

God gave a bountiful corn harvest this year.  We stuffed ourselves silly with corn, and one week, after having had garden-everything tossed salad, corn on the cob, and roasted kale for several suppers in a row, Millie groaned when I told her we were having it for another.  I told her I'd remind her of that groan in the middle of January when we'll be dreaming of these garden meals.


The girls cheerfully husked corn for me.  I can count the corn I husked this year on one hand.  Lazy me!  Happy me!

Sometimes the corn didn't even make it to the pot.

And here's a bonus for anyone who cuts corn on a cutting board.  Anyone?  Anyone at all?

Confined to my room with a whopping spinal headache from the c-section after Piper's birth and unable to hold her yet because she was on oxygen in the nursery, I turned on the television.  A friendly chef then proceeded to share a corn-cutting method that changed my life.  In the past, when preparing corn to freeze for winter, I cut it on a cutting board. The kernels would fly east, west, north, and south.  No longer.  

In case you need a life-changing, corn-cutting method, here it is.  Place a small bowl upside-down inside a larger bowl.  The top of the smaller bowl should be about even with the lip of the larger bowl.  The larger bowl contains the falling kernels, and, if your large bowl is big enough, you can whip through 5 dozen ears without having to stop to bag any up.  

Life-changing.  

You're welcome.

  

 

One last thing: be prepared for floating hands to appear out of nowhere to steal your corn.

A Suggestion

If you're drowning in cucumbers and sick of canning pickles, put fresh cucumbers in jars prepared for pickling, like in this recipe.  Just don't cook them!  Tuck them in the refrigerator to make your crunchy-pickle-loving husband happy, instead.

That Look

Zeke normally plays outside nearly all day, but I thought I heard some little boy wails one morning, so off I searched.  The day before I'd heaped a wagon with manure from the horse pasture to fill our new raised (strawberry!) bed, but I ran out of time to unload it, so Dad left it for me to tackle the next day.

The tractor wasn't hard for Zeke to find or climb, but I guess he wasn't confident enough to climb down, so there he sat, like a little cat in a treetop.

Here's the close-up to highlight that poochy mouth.

Garlic is Man's Best Friend

 


John did all the work of planting and weeding, but I had the distinct pleasure of harvesting this year's garlic.  120 or so heads of beautiful garlic hanging from the kitchen beam-- now that's a sight.

After curing, I cut off the stalks and cleaned them up a bit,

   

 and we've been enjoying them in all manner of dishes since.

Let's Have Another

John made these sandwiches for supper one night, and the next day while he was at work, I wanted another.  So I made one, following his simple instructions.

-Take one hard roll
-Make some garlic oil (infuse lots of chopped garlic cloves in olive oil and then add whatever seasonings you want-- oregano, rosemary, etc.)

Brush the oil liberally on the hard roll and then top with tomato slices and fresh basil leaves.  Top with mozzerella and toast in the oven until the roll is toasty and the cheese is melty.

If desired, let your son snitch some cheese first. 

Then, before eating, drape a towel over the toaster oven and take a picture of your sandwich.

 

You can also share some cucumber salad with that snitching son because he loves the stuff.

Zucchini Love

 

The girls and I have eaten bowls upon bowls of curried zucchini soup this year.  It's delicious and will have to someday find its way to buildabelly, that fabled and neglected land for those who wish to expand their girth.  Someday...

The Party Proper

I have no pictures of Millie's birthday breakfast or birthday supper.  How did this happen?!  I have failed. (Breakfast: apple-cinnamon-caramel baked French toast and BACON.  Supper: Venison and garden veggie tacos.  Plus, she blew out a candle.  There, now you haven't missed a thing.)

Millie wanted a horse barn cake this year and, after having tasted them for the first time on Susie's house cake, she expressly asked for wafer cookies to coat the sides. She wanted Necco wafers for the roof, too, no question.

I was happy to oblige because it made frosting the thing a cinch!  (As tempted as you may be to eat that pathway, don't.  It's paved with leftover fish tank rocks we bought at the dollar store, and not with superior Nerds.)

All you manly readers, quit scoffing at a pink horse barn.  They can too be pink!

Also per Mildred's request, we ate outside under the cherry tree.

Mildred didn't request Pippi to monopolize all the pictures, but Pip did, anyway, out of the goodness of her heart.  (Also, Millie requested birch beer.  That's birch beer-- birch-- by her elbow, people.)

Poof!  And then she was twelve.  She grows and grows, and I see glimmers of the young lady she's becoming as she continues to gently slip out of little girlhood.  Sigh.  Not too fast, though, thank goodness...

We love you, sweet Bumpkin.  To Malacandra and back!

The Cherry Tree is Empty Because...

Millie's other request (Another?! Sheesh. You'd think it was her birthday or something) was for Papa to set up the tent Andy and Wendy gave us before their move to Alaska.  It's an 8-person tent, which is big enough to fit all the children and Candida and DEBBIE (cheers erupt).

Debbie was drowning in tasks to prepare for the new year of teaching and her last year of grad school, but the fact that she took a night off to spend with these girls shows why they all adore her so.

She read to them, 

inspired shadow puppeteers, 

and spent the night outside with them so that no wildcats dared come near. 

Two more pictures from the following morning, and then I'm done.  Millie's not the only knitter in the house.  Enter Candida!

And this last picture, for those people who wonder what children can do all day without television and computer games.   They can entertain themselves, sometimes indoors and sometimes even quietly, and it's a beautiful thing.