For any true Adventures in Odyssey fans out there, upon realizing it was new Year's Eve (okay, so it didn't really take me off guard), a great nerdy part of me wanted to break into Eugene Meltsner's New Year's song:
"Out with the old year, in with the new,
January's nearly here, December's nearly through,
Oh we don't know where the time has gone,
It obviously flew,
Soooo....
Out with the old year, out with the old year,
Out with the old year, in with the new!"
I sang it in my head, complete with Eugene's ukulele vigorously playing in the background, and it made me happy.
This has been quite a year. The most obvious huge change to have happened was of course the birth of our little muffin head, and more recently our move. While I'm astounded to think about how many big changes Andrew and I have had as a married couple, I know our ability to "roll with the punches" has been completely from the Lord. He has been so gracious to walk us through each and every day, and I know He will do the same in this coming year.
Happy New Year 2012, everyone!
December 31, 2011
December 12, 2011
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...
It's finally feeling like the holidays around here. The main areas of the house are unpacked, and thanks to Craig's List, we were quickly able to move the boxes out the door. It feels really nice to have this house feeling like home.
Last Friday we braved some chilly, dismal weather and headed to find a Christmas tree. We decided on a lovely Fraser Fir and upon setting out to decorate it, I discovered a perfectly crafted little bird's nest tucked in the top branches! I figure we couldn't have picked a better tree since a Momma bird had chosen it before us. The tiny bird's nest now sits atop our mantle accompanied by garlands and red berries.
Speaking of our mantle...I have discovered two things about having a fireplace.
Thing 1: My husband builds incredible, roaring fires with great ease.
Thing 2: I kill fires with great ease.
It seems a simple enough skill, but alas, it's one I am without. :-p
Baby girl on the other hand has developed some skills that kill us with cuteness. Lately she's learned to wave at people when we're saying hello. I'm pretty sure she's also saying "hi", but maybe that's just me. The other day, while listening to Christmas music, we were playing on the floor and I started be-bopping to the tune. Olivia looked up at me and being on her knees began bopping up and down, "dancing" too! She is SO much fun!!!
Time for me to run - more updates to come! :)
Last Friday we braved some chilly, dismal weather and headed to find a Christmas tree. We decided on a lovely Fraser Fir and upon setting out to decorate it, I discovered a perfectly crafted little bird's nest tucked in the top branches! I figure we couldn't have picked a better tree since a Momma bird had chosen it before us. The tiny bird's nest now sits atop our mantle accompanied by garlands and red berries.
Speaking of our mantle...I have discovered two things about having a fireplace.
Thing 1: My husband builds incredible, roaring fires with great ease.
Thing 2: I kill fires with great ease.
It seems a simple enough skill, but alas, it's one I am without. :-p
Baby girl on the other hand has developed some skills that kill us with cuteness. Lately she's learned to wave at people when we're saying hello. I'm pretty sure she's also saying "hi", but maybe that's just me. The other day, while listening to Christmas music, we were playing on the floor and I started be-bopping to the tune. Olivia looked up at me and being on her knees began bopping up and down, "dancing" too! She is SO much fun!!!
Time for me to run - more updates to come! :)
December 7, 2011
The Move
After what seemed an elusive date on the calendar, the time finally arrived for the movers to load our stuff in the truck and close out our chapter down south. I found it somewhat ironic that after the horrendous drought we endured this summer, that the very day our belongings would be exposed to the world, the heavens opened and the rain poured down. Yep.
I don't know exactly what I expected, but I'm fairly certain that the guys who showed up to move our stuff resembled characters I'd seen on "America's Most Wanted". However, after feeding them 2 dozen donuts, they worked hard and got the truck loaded. After meticulously packing one million, four thousand and two boxes (or so it seemed), a good number clearly and boldly marked "FRAGILE", there were times I held my breath, said a quick prayer and had to look away as the guys stacked boxes marked "Do Not Stack", hauling them out the door through the rain, only to be stacked in greater piles. Yikes. I didn't know how much I'd have to comfort myself with how well we padded things, but it took every bit of cushion in the end. I am happy to report that only one table incurred any damage.
Once the house was loaded, Andrew and I set out to clean the place up. He managed his shop and I took to attacking the mud that had been so thoroughly tracked all over the floors. Admittedly I got a bit weepy as I scrubbed, thinking of how many memories had been made in that creaky old house. Despite my sentimentality, the place got cleaned and we were finally on our way to our new home. As we drove out of town my eyes welled up, sad to leave our dear friends and darling town, and welled up again as I looked out and saw a rainbow through the storm. God is so good and ministered to me greatly in that moment.
Arriving at our new place in the evening brought a rather comical moment that I won't soon forget. Andrew pulled into the driveway with the trailer containing our silly chickens (riding in their coop) and we needed to get them into the backyard asap. In order to perform such a feat we had to dig up a very large and brambly bush that was blocking a gate wide enough for the coop to fit through. I was laughing in-between shovelfuls of dirt, thinking how redneck we must have looked to any new neighbors.
"Oh look honey, the new neighbors are moving in. Umm...they're digging up the landscaping. And pushing a wooden ark looking thing through a gate. Now they're replanting... Umm, maybe we should wait a while for them to get settled before saying hello. A good long while."
This story has a good ending because the coop is in it's final place, the girls are enjoying their new home and popping out beautiful eggs despite the trauma of being transported and driven down the road at 70 miles an hour. What a ride!
We've only been here a few days and are really enjoying our new home. Boxes are being unpacked, belongings are finding their place, and order is being resumed. It's a good feeling. I'm itching for the unpacking to be done so that we can enjoy this advent season!
I don't know exactly what I expected, but I'm fairly certain that the guys who showed up to move our stuff resembled characters I'd seen on "America's Most Wanted". However, after feeding them 2 dozen donuts, they worked hard and got the truck loaded. After meticulously packing one million, four thousand and two boxes (or so it seemed), a good number clearly and boldly marked "FRAGILE", there were times I held my breath, said a quick prayer and had to look away as the guys stacked boxes marked "Do Not Stack", hauling them out the door through the rain, only to be stacked in greater piles. Yikes. I didn't know how much I'd have to comfort myself with how well we padded things, but it took every bit of cushion in the end. I am happy to report that only one table incurred any damage.
Once the house was loaded, Andrew and I set out to clean the place up. He managed his shop and I took to attacking the mud that had been so thoroughly tracked all over the floors. Admittedly I got a bit weepy as I scrubbed, thinking of how many memories had been made in that creaky old house. Despite my sentimentality, the place got cleaned and we were finally on our way to our new home. As we drove out of town my eyes welled up, sad to leave our dear friends and darling town, and welled up again as I looked out and saw a rainbow through the storm. God is so good and ministered to me greatly in that moment.
Arriving at our new place in the evening brought a rather comical moment that I won't soon forget. Andrew pulled into the driveway with the trailer containing our silly chickens (riding in their coop) and we needed to get them into the backyard asap. In order to perform such a feat we had to dig up a very large and brambly bush that was blocking a gate wide enough for the coop to fit through. I was laughing in-between shovelfuls of dirt, thinking how redneck we must have looked to any new neighbors.
"Oh look honey, the new neighbors are moving in. Umm...they're digging up the landscaping. And pushing a wooden ark looking thing through a gate. Now they're replanting... Umm, maybe we should wait a while for them to get settled before saying hello. A good long while."
This story has a good ending because the coop is in it's final place, the girls are enjoying their new home and popping out beautiful eggs despite the trauma of being transported and driven down the road at 70 miles an hour. What a ride!
We've only been here a few days and are really enjoying our new home. Boxes are being unpacked, belongings are finding their place, and order is being resumed. It's a good feeling. I'm itching for the unpacking to be done so that we can enjoy this advent season!
November 16, 2011
Kom-boo-cha-cha-cha
Please pray for my husband. Today when he returns home after a long day of work, he's going to discover glass jars sitting on our counter, containing creamy brain-like substances floating in a brown liquid. Sounds gross, huh? Well, thanks to a lovely and generous young friend, I am now in possession of two rather large kombucha scobys (a.k.a. mushroom or mother). A "scoby" is the acronym for a symbiotic colony of bacteria and yeast. These fermenting friends create another probiotic drink with benefits similar to those I mentioned before in my post about kefir.
I am really excited to "brew" some of my own kombucha. Just last month I tried some berry flavored kombucha from Celestial Seasoning and after a first sip that nearly took my breath away, I decided I liked it! It was fizzy, not too sweet, had a great tarty kick, and after a brief "hot flash" of detox, I appreciated that it had healthful benefits, too! ;)
According to my favorite culturing website (Cultures for Health), Kombucha scobys are grown in green or black sweetened tea and should be left to culture for 7 to 30 days. The longer the culture is left to do it's work, the drink becomes less sweet, but boasts stronger probiotic qualities. Once the scoby has done it's work, you can drink it plain, or mix it with a bit of juice. I've got two jars going, so after next week will determine how to serve it up. I've heard that store-bought kombucha tastes quite a bit different from home-grown, so I'm anxious to compare the two.
I'm also excited to see how the scobys reproduce. Yes, did I neglect to mention that scoby mothers grow babies?! Yup. The mother culture will develop babies that can be used to make more kombucha. This is totally fulfilling the desires of my inner food chemist! Bwahaha.
So, do you kombucha? I'd love to hear thoughts from any of you kombucha pros out there. :)
I am really excited to "brew" some of my own kombucha. Just last month I tried some berry flavored kombucha from Celestial Seasoning and after a first sip that nearly took my breath away, I decided I liked it! It was fizzy, not too sweet, had a great tarty kick, and after a brief "hot flash" of detox, I appreciated that it had healthful benefits, too! ;)
According to my favorite culturing website (Cultures for Health), Kombucha scobys are grown in green or black sweetened tea and should be left to culture for 7 to 30 days. The longer the culture is left to do it's work, the drink becomes less sweet, but boasts stronger probiotic qualities. Once the scoby has done it's work, you can drink it plain, or mix it with a bit of juice. I've got two jars going, so after next week will determine how to serve it up. I've heard that store-bought kombucha tastes quite a bit different from home-grown, so I'm anxious to compare the two.
I'm also excited to see how the scobys reproduce. Yes, did I neglect to mention that scoby mothers grow babies?! Yup. The mother culture will develop babies that can be used to make more kombucha. This is totally fulfilling the desires of my inner food chemist! Bwahaha.
So, do you kombucha? I'd love to hear thoughts from any of you kombucha pros out there. :)
November 14, 2011
Tiredness and Respect
There are just some nights that I wish I could clone myself. Last night was one of them. I am at a loss to know if it was the noise of the heater coming on, or her tummy, or pre-teething fussiness that kept waking Olivia up. Whatever it was got the girl up to eat 4 times last night. It's nights like this that make for a very tired, zombie-like Mama the next day. Andrew was kind enough to bring her to me this morning b/c at that point, my ears were in denial of the small fussing sounds coming across the monitor. "Surely....that can't be her!"
This morning, the child is playing rather contentedly at my feet, safely contained in a laundry basket with her blanket, "fluff" and a few toys. With so many boxes and moving chaos littered about the house, I'm finding this to be a safe area for her to play. It's rather convenient for her teething needs too, since there is a nice clean basket edge to chew on within gum's reach. Oh yes and I might explain that a "fluff" is a crocheted square I made up from a soft remnant of yarn. It's become a nap/bedtime essential as Olivia will bury her face and lace a finger or to into it before she can begin a proper nap. It's pretty cute.
For the past month or two, a few church friends and I have been gathering to go through Nancy Wilson's book "The Fruit of her Hands". It's been an excellent study and very refreshing to work through with like-minded ladies. This week's chapter is on the issue of respect. Mrs. Wilson does a fantastic job shoring everything up with scripture, and is brutally honest with the disrespect women can have toward their husbands. I would think her harsh if I hadn't heard of the disrespect present in the lives of so many Christian women. The general outcry is "My husband doesn't lead!". While this may be true, Mrs. Wilson points back to the scriptures, exhorting believing women to respect their husbands, not just when they feel like it, but in obedience to God and His word. Respect is an option, but a command. She goes on to encourage women to practice being prayerful, and thankful, noting the good attributes in their husbands. When women focus on the negative, that's probably all they're going to see, and instead of whining or gossiping, PRAY for your husband! Since the gentler sex tends to be more vocal in complaint, this kind of in-your-face truth seems most appropriate.
This teaching harmonized beautifully with a discussion I just had with my Dad. Their church was recently blessed through a conference given by Gregg Harris (homeschooling pioneer, and father of authors Josh, Alex and Brett Harris). Dad shared with me about the conference and the various topics he covered, one of which was on respect. Mr. Harris encouraged ladies to respect and love their husbands into leadership. What a concept, huh?
"Wives, in the same way be submissive to your husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words but the behavior of their wives when they see the purity and reverence of your lives." 1 Peter 3:1-2
My prayer for the women of the church (local and universal) is that we will be women of the word, lovers of our husbands, and be characterized by quiet and gentle spirits. Just as God bears patiently with our own sins and short comings, may our love toward our husbands, unconditionally, and in all things, sharpen us all to a greater image of Christ-likeness.
This morning, the child is playing rather contentedly at my feet, safely contained in a laundry basket with her blanket, "fluff" and a few toys. With so many boxes and moving chaos littered about the house, I'm finding this to be a safe area for her to play. It's rather convenient for her teething needs too, since there is a nice clean basket edge to chew on within gum's reach. Oh yes and I might explain that a "fluff" is a crocheted square I made up from a soft remnant of yarn. It's become a nap/bedtime essential as Olivia will bury her face and lace a finger or to into it before she can begin a proper nap. It's pretty cute.
For the past month or two, a few church friends and I have been gathering to go through Nancy Wilson's book "The Fruit of her Hands". It's been an excellent study and very refreshing to work through with like-minded ladies. This week's chapter is on the issue of respect. Mrs. Wilson does a fantastic job shoring everything up with scripture, and is brutally honest with the disrespect women can have toward their husbands. I would think her harsh if I hadn't heard of the disrespect present in the lives of so many Christian women. The general outcry is "My husband doesn't lead!". While this may be true, Mrs. Wilson points back to the scriptures, exhorting believing women to respect their husbands, not just when they feel like it, but in obedience to God and His word. Respect is an option, but a command. She goes on to encourage women to practice being prayerful, and thankful, noting the good attributes in their husbands. When women focus on the negative, that's probably all they're going to see, and instead of whining or gossiping, PRAY for your husband! Since the gentler sex tends to be more vocal in complaint, this kind of in-your-face truth seems most appropriate.
This teaching harmonized beautifully with a discussion I just had with my Dad. Their church was recently blessed through a conference given by Gregg Harris (homeschooling pioneer, and father of authors Josh, Alex and Brett Harris). Dad shared with me about the conference and the various topics he covered, one of which was on respect. Mr. Harris encouraged ladies to respect and love their husbands into leadership. What a concept, huh?
"Wives, in the same way be submissive to your husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words but the behavior of their wives when they see the purity and reverence of your lives." 1 Peter 3:1-2
My prayer for the women of the church (local and universal) is that we will be women of the word, lovers of our husbands, and be characterized by quiet and gentle spirits. Just as God bears patiently with our own sins and short comings, may our love toward our husbands, unconditionally, and in all things, sharpen us all to a greater image of Christ-likeness.
November 9, 2011
The Adventure Continues
Dear Blog,
I am so sorry I've neglected you for so long.
Most sincerely,
Me
There. Now that I've got that out of the way, I can move on to say that much has happened during my 2 month blogging sabbatical. We've received visits from both sides of the family, made two trips down south for both work and fun, have been steadily getting beautiful eggs from the girls, planted a 2nd garden, and gratefully welcomed the fall season. Good riddance to the brutally hot summer of 2011!
The girl is 6 months old today. Where has the time gone?! She has continued to blow us away with her developments, and perhaps being our only child, we're a bit enamored with anything she does. Just a week before her 4th month, she decided that laying on the floor wasn't getting her anywhere fast and started her attempts at crawling. Each week since that time has increased her speed and adventurousness. She is now regularly yammering "Mama", and "Dada" amongst other syllables though we're not quite sure she's associated her "words" with the people they belong to. As of these past 2 weeks, she's added sitting up on her own, pulling up and trying to stand to her list of achievements. We love her smiles and very slobbery kisses. She is such a happy and delightful girl to have around! Oh how our lives have so drastically changed in these 6 short months!
Two weeks ago we got some "big news" that has turned our world upside down. An opportunity came up for Andrew w/in his company that will be sending us up north for a while. We're very excited and spent a good portion of last week searching for a new home. It was nice to get a feel for the area we will be calling "home", and hope that the place we fell in love with will pan out as our new respective domicile. **prayers are greatly appreciated**
Being the planning nerd I am, I printed out some graph paper and made a diagram of the house. I also made little graph paper cuts-outs of our furniture, and have been playing with arrangements. Andrew laughed watching me measuring over him to acquire the area of the couch. Despite his teasing, I know he will appreciate not having to move the furniture several times, since I think I know where things will go. ;)
Thoughts of moving have brought along an array of emotions. We're thankful for a new adventure, and excited to see what the Lord has for us up there. However, we're also really sad to be leaving. There are so many wonderful memories of our time here. The wonderful friends that welcomed us with open arms when we first arrived have become like family. The quirky 1950's house with no dishwasher, or pantry, and measly insulation is our first home together. This is the place I learned to get my feet under me as a new wife, homemaker, AND expectant Mommy. It's the place we planted our first garden, jumped into the world of chicken farming, and made the enormous decision to welcome our daughter into the world in our living room! For all of it's quirks, we will miss this place and look back on it with many fond memories.
Even after a few weeks of living in this country town, I gave Andrew a head's up that whenever we would have to move again, he should be prepared for me to bawl my eyes out. I know that we will make new memories where ever we go, but I believe it's perfectly right to mourn a bit, but also to treasure this time in our lives. This will be upwards of a twelfth move in my lifetime, so maybe I should be used to it by now. An encouraging thing a dear friend reminded me on the subject of moving is that "Where ever you go, God's people will be there."
So, for whomever God has for us up there, we look forward to meeting them. For what friends we're saying goodbye to, we will miss them more than words can say. Their friendship has been an incredible blessing, and one we hope to maintain, even from a distance. Things may not be the same as they used to be, but as children of the Lord, we share a bond that cannot be broken, and will eventually all end up "moving" into the same "house" in the end.
I'm going to date myself and my music tastes by referencing the Steven Curtis Chapman song "Great Adventure", but bear with me. ;) I love the line that says: "Saddle up your horses, we've got a trail to blaze, through the wild blue yonder of God's amazing grace, let's follow our Leader into the glorious unknown, this is a life like no other...this is the great adventure." There is a great amount of glorious unknown ahead of us, but as the Lord leads, we are in the exact place He wants us. It's a privilege to follow Him, and to follow my husband into the wild blue yonder. Come wind, come tornado, come earthquake...the Bornes are on a great adventure!
I am so sorry I've neglected you for so long.
Most sincerely,
Me
There. Now that I've got that out of the way, I can move on to say that much has happened during my 2 month blogging sabbatical. We've received visits from both sides of the family, made two trips down south for both work and fun, have been steadily getting beautiful eggs from the girls, planted a 2nd garden, and gratefully welcomed the fall season. Good riddance to the brutally hot summer of 2011!
The girl is 6 months old today. Where has the time gone?! She has continued to blow us away with her developments, and perhaps being our only child, we're a bit enamored with anything she does. Just a week before her 4th month, she decided that laying on the floor wasn't getting her anywhere fast and started her attempts at crawling. Each week since that time has increased her speed and adventurousness. She is now regularly yammering "Mama", and "Dada" amongst other syllables though we're not quite sure she's associated her "words" with the people they belong to. As of these past 2 weeks, she's added sitting up on her own, pulling up and trying to stand to her list of achievements. We love her smiles and very slobbery kisses. She is such a happy and delightful girl to have around! Oh how our lives have so drastically changed in these 6 short months!
Two weeks ago we got some "big news" that has turned our world upside down. An opportunity came up for Andrew w/in his company that will be sending us up north for a while. We're very excited and spent a good portion of last week searching for a new home. It was nice to get a feel for the area we will be calling "home", and hope that the place we fell in love with will pan out as our new respective domicile. **prayers are greatly appreciated**
Being the planning nerd I am, I printed out some graph paper and made a diagram of the house. I also made little graph paper cuts-outs of our furniture, and have been playing with arrangements. Andrew laughed watching me measuring over him to acquire the area of the couch. Despite his teasing, I know he will appreciate not having to move the furniture several times, since I think I know where things will go. ;)
Thoughts of moving have brought along an array of emotions. We're thankful for a new adventure, and excited to see what the Lord has for us up there. However, we're also really sad to be leaving. There are so many wonderful memories of our time here. The wonderful friends that welcomed us with open arms when we first arrived have become like family. The quirky 1950's house with no dishwasher, or pantry, and measly insulation is our first home together. This is the place I learned to get my feet under me as a new wife, homemaker, AND expectant Mommy. It's the place we planted our first garden, jumped into the world of chicken farming, and made the enormous decision to welcome our daughter into the world in our living room! For all of it's quirks, we will miss this place and look back on it with many fond memories.
Even after a few weeks of living in this country town, I gave Andrew a head's up that whenever we would have to move again, he should be prepared for me to bawl my eyes out. I know that we will make new memories where ever we go, but I believe it's perfectly right to mourn a bit, but also to treasure this time in our lives. This will be upwards of a twelfth move in my lifetime, so maybe I should be used to it by now. An encouraging thing a dear friend reminded me on the subject of moving is that "Where ever you go, God's people will be there."
So, for whomever God has for us up there, we look forward to meeting them. For what friends we're saying goodbye to, we will miss them more than words can say. Their friendship has been an incredible blessing, and one we hope to maintain, even from a distance. Things may not be the same as they used to be, but as children of the Lord, we share a bond that cannot be broken, and will eventually all end up "moving" into the same "house" in the end.
I'm going to date myself and my music tastes by referencing the Steven Curtis Chapman song "Great Adventure", but bear with me. ;) I love the line that says: "Saddle up your horses, we've got a trail to blaze, through the wild blue yonder of God's amazing grace, let's follow our Leader into the glorious unknown, this is a life like no other...this is the great adventure." There is a great amount of glorious unknown ahead of us, but as the Lord leads, we are in the exact place He wants us. It's a privilege to follow Him, and to follow my husband into the wild blue yonder. Come wind, come tornado, come earthquake...the Bornes are on a great adventure!
September 29, 2011
Growing on the Inside
I have an occasional tendency to use what my family and I have begun to call "Jennaisms". These are moments when my innocence, obliviousness and blond side come together in full force. I usually don't catch them until it's too late and I'm genuinely embarrassed, but they seem to give my Dad and husband a particularly good laugh. They will usually also offer me a sympathy hug. I don't necessarily enjoy those kind of hugs.
Because I am so unselfish and really hope that telling on myself will grow some character, I'll share a few "Jennaisms" with you...like when I was a teenage and an interested guy friend told me I was pretty. I frankly responded with "Thanks. Everybody says I look like my Dad." It confused him so much that he began stuttering "I didn't mean it that way...uhh...umm."
Or when Andrew and I were on a road trip to see family and after looking at the map, I exclaim: "Yay! We're getting closer!" Well...no duh.
Or the epic time when visiting a town located near a large military base, I referred to my husband's empty beer bottle as a "dead soldier". To some ex-military guys. Oh yes. I did.
My most recent Jenna-ism was to declare to my husband with great enthusiasm that: "Olivia is growing!" Again, this is one of those no-duh statements. She's a baby. If everything progresses as we pray it does, of course she's growing. What I really meant was that I'm pleased with the weight she's gained, and I'm happy that she's developing so well. But no. I blurted it out and receive a look that says "You're cute" and another sympathy hug for expressing the obvious.
I'd like to blame the residual "pregnancy brains" that I acquired (or maybe lost?) with Olivia, but am afraid I've been doing this for a a while now. Maybe it's that the part of my brain that would help me be more articulate has moved to focus on milk production. Or diaper changing. Or the extra house work I feel is necessary to clean the floor she's now scooting around on. Perhaps it's just a genuine case of needing to give extra thought to what I'm about to say before I say it.
Whatever the reason, I'm comforted to know that God knows the inner workings of my thoughts. He knows what joy it gives me to see the baby He's blessed us with discover the world around her. He knows the nuances of my saying "She must be growing!" to mean "She woke me up to eat THREE times last night! She has to be going through a growth spurt! I'm SO TIRED!!!". Or just the simple delight in taking note that well, she's growing. Life is in a constant motion of change. No day is like another.
Andrew has a phrase that I love and have often heard him say: "I'm growing on the inside." Though the change may not be external, on the inside, there is expansion. There is movement. There is something good there that wasn't there the day before. As I watch my daughter developing, I'm challenged to continue maturing myself. For there to be something more Christlike in me today than there was yesterday. To set a guard over my mouth and mind. Perhaps in doing so I'll have less Jennaisms, but in the event that they are just personality quirks, I do accept sympathy hugs and will blushingly enjoy hearing you laugh.
Because I am so unselfish and really hope that telling on myself will grow some character, I'll share a few "Jennaisms" with you...like when I was a teenage and an interested guy friend told me I was pretty. I frankly responded with "Thanks. Everybody says I look like my Dad." It confused him so much that he began stuttering "I didn't mean it that way...uhh...umm."
Or when Andrew and I were on a road trip to see family and after looking at the map, I exclaim: "Yay! We're getting closer!" Well...no duh.
Or the epic time when visiting a town located near a large military base, I referred to my husband's empty beer bottle as a "dead soldier". To some ex-military guys. Oh yes. I did.
My most recent Jenna-ism was to declare to my husband with great enthusiasm that: "Olivia is growing!" Again, this is one of those no-duh statements. She's a baby. If everything progresses as we pray it does, of course she's growing. What I really meant was that I'm pleased with the weight she's gained, and I'm happy that she's developing so well. But no. I blurted it out and receive a look that says "You're cute" and another sympathy hug for expressing the obvious.
I'd like to blame the residual "pregnancy brains" that I acquired (or maybe lost?) with Olivia, but am afraid I've been doing this for a a while now. Maybe it's that the part of my brain that would help me be more articulate has moved to focus on milk production. Or diaper changing. Or the extra house work I feel is necessary to clean the floor she's now scooting around on. Perhaps it's just a genuine case of needing to give extra thought to what I'm about to say before I say it.
Whatever the reason, I'm comforted to know that God knows the inner workings of my thoughts. He knows what joy it gives me to see the baby He's blessed us with discover the world around her. He knows the nuances of my saying "She must be growing!" to mean "She woke me up to eat THREE times last night! She has to be going through a growth spurt! I'm SO TIRED!!!". Or just the simple delight in taking note that well, she's growing. Life is in a constant motion of change. No day is like another.
Andrew has a phrase that I love and have often heard him say: "I'm growing on the inside." Though the change may not be external, on the inside, there is expansion. There is movement. There is something good there that wasn't there the day before. As I watch my daughter developing, I'm challenged to continue maturing myself. For there to be something more Christlike in me today than there was yesterday. To set a guard over my mouth and mind. Perhaps in doing so I'll have less Jennaisms, but in the event that they are just personality quirks, I do accept sympathy hugs and will blushingly enjoy hearing you laugh.
September 26, 2011
Bacteria Buddies
As per usual, I feel like I'm one of the last to jump on a particular health band wagon. Dr. Bronners soap was a biggie. I got all excited and wanted to share it with other people, but my enthusiasm was slightly curbed by their response "Oh yeah. Great stuff. Been using it for years." **sigh** In any event, I am on a "new-to-me" health food adventure and want to share my discoveries. In case you are on the forefront of health discoveries, I say "Onward Ho!" and thanks for forging the way for the rest of us.
Considering my newest health journey is with bacteria, I guess you could say I have a growing interest. Haha, okay it's a bad joke, but stay with me.
Lately I've been seeing a lot of blogs and articles about the benefits of growing your own cultures for yogurt, cheese, sour dough breads, and a bevy of fermented beverages. One of the drinks, kefir, is made using kefir crystals which according to The Google, are "a combination of bacteria and yeasts in a matrix of proteins, lipids, and sugars". It's a symbiotic matrix that goes to work on cleansing your gut with it's (probiotic) good bacteria. And to think that just the word "matrix" gets me excited!
The benefits of consuming kefir (it can be used in both milk and water) are astounding. A quick internet search will bring up studies and testimonies of people who claim kefir has cleared up their skin, regulated their menstrual cycle, healed intestinal issues, improved digestion, decreased gas, strengthened hair and nails, and the list goes on.
A friend of mine sent me a link to a probiotic lemonade which led me to a site called "Cultures for Health". They have some awesome products and tutorials to make getting started easy. I purchased a starter kit of their kefir cultures and was SO excited to get them in the mail today!
Water kefir cultures for 24-48 hours before it's ready to drink. After that, it can be flavored in numerous ways, with fresh or dried fruit, vanilla extract, herbal tea...it all sounds so yummy. Right now my little kefir babies are rehydrating and culturing in a glass jar on the counter, working their magic to create a delicious probiotic drink. I can't wait to try it!
Considering my newest health journey is with bacteria, I guess you could say I have a growing interest. Haha, okay it's a bad joke, but stay with me.
Lately I've been seeing a lot of blogs and articles about the benefits of growing your own cultures for yogurt, cheese, sour dough breads, and a bevy of fermented beverages. One of the drinks, kefir, is made using kefir crystals which according to The Google, are "a combination of bacteria and yeasts in a matrix of proteins, lipids, and sugars". It's a symbiotic matrix that goes to work on cleansing your gut with it's (probiotic) good bacteria. And to think that just the word "matrix" gets me excited!
The benefits of consuming kefir (it can be used in both milk and water) are astounding. A quick internet search will bring up studies and testimonies of people who claim kefir has cleared up their skin, regulated their menstrual cycle, healed intestinal issues, improved digestion, decreased gas, strengthened hair and nails, and the list goes on.
A friend of mine sent me a link to a probiotic lemonade which led me to a site called "Cultures for Health". They have some awesome products and tutorials to make getting started easy. I purchased a starter kit of their kefir cultures and was SO excited to get them in the mail today!
Water kefir cultures for 24-48 hours before it's ready to drink. After that, it can be flavored in numerous ways, with fresh or dried fruit, vanilla extract, herbal tea...it all sounds so yummy. Right now my little kefir babies are rehydrating and culturing in a glass jar on the counter, working their magic to create a delicious probiotic drink. I can't wait to try it!
August 30, 2011
Adventure on Railroad Trail
For some time now I've been hearing about a nearby Rails-to-Trails project. It's where a no-longer-functional railway is converted to a trail for public use. Yesterday evening (ahem...after my 2nd brownie) I decided that despite the 100+ degrees, it was time to finally check out the trail. It was now or never. I threw the baby jogger in the back of the car and Olivia and I set off for our adventure.
Arriving in the parking lot, I noticed only one other vehicle in the area with the driver side door open and no one around. I didn't see any car burglars so went ahead and parked. Just as we started down the trail I saw a large man, strangely resembling Mr. Clean, emerge from the bathrooms and head to the car. I was hoping the man was done exercising because he looked like the kind that lifts weights in his sleep. Yikes!
What was supposed to be a fun, exploratory walk/jog/exercise jiggle turned into my being more consumed with our safety than enjoying the new route. I obviously wasn't too concerned, or else I'd never have parked the car in the first place. Despite this fact, I still kept an eye out for anyone, anything that might be near us. Since becoming a Mom, my mind goes crazy running scenarios of what could happen in even the strangest circumstances. I almost wish I were my old level of not-quite-oblivious so that I could enjoy things a bit more. However, its probably better this way; my planning MacGuyver rolls, being ready at a moment's notice to run a million miles an hour to safety, and mentally walking myself through self defense moves that would put Chuck Norris to shame. Don't you mess with a Mama Bear.
Anyway...the remoteness of the wooded trail only served to intensify my wandering mind and up the ante on my adrenaline. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Mr. Clean coming up on us at a jog. I decided it would be a great time to call a few friends and family...you know, just to say hello. He passed us, jogging like a Neanderthal with granite muscles and sweat flying everywhere, me on the phone, mace in hand, pushing the jogger at a brisk pace and trying to look as mean as possible. **GRRR** He muttered a hello as he clomped by and I soon felt safer watching him jog into the distance ahead of us. About 1.5 in, I decided it was time to turn around. I felt safer thinking we would be going the opposite direction of Mr. Clean, and didn't want to overdo it on our first-in-a-while exercise jiggle...urr, adventure.
On our way back I got a little more freaked out than I should have. You know how your mind can play tricks on you? Well, mine decided to graduate to a full blown insanity. I began calculating the pace of the previously passing brute's and comparing it to that of my own, determining that if I kept up a certain pace, I'd make it back to the trailhead before anyone else could. The wind picked up and made the trees surrounding the trail rustle, their shadows making me certain that it was a perfect place for the headless horseman from Sleepy Hollow to emerge at any given moment. Old railroad timbers stacked near the trail made a perfect scenario for a crazed woodsman to be nearby, but I decided to rule that out.
I suppose my mind games became a strange motivation for me to jog harder than I normally would have. I'd been told the trail was pretty well traveled, was jogging along at a pretty good clip, with my child looking on as if she ruled the wood, and above all, knew that God was in control of every detail of our jaunt.
Toward the end of our adventure, once I'd calmed down, I noticed what a GREAT place those previously creepy trees would make for a family photo shoot, wondered what history the railroad timbers held of the people traveling back and forth between the two towns, and even began to feel a bit more motivated to return for future exercise. Despite the intense heat and my sluggishness from not having moved like that in a while, we were having fun.
Finally returning to the area where the car was parked, we be briefly visited with a nice man about to take off on a bike ride. He said his truck temperature gauge had just registered at 100 degrees, so exercising at that time was not for the faint of heart! I breathed a sigh as the nice man began his own journey down the trail, realized we'd survived my wild imaginings, and determined we'd be back again for a more enjoyable, calmer adventure. Maybe next time we can talk a friend into going with us!
Arriving in the parking lot, I noticed only one other vehicle in the area with the driver side door open and no one around. I didn't see any car burglars so went ahead and parked. Just as we started down the trail I saw a large man, strangely resembling Mr. Clean, emerge from the bathrooms and head to the car. I was hoping the man was done exercising because he looked like the kind that lifts weights in his sleep. Yikes!
What was supposed to be a fun, exploratory walk/jog/exercise jiggle turned into my being more consumed with our safety than enjoying the new route. I obviously wasn't too concerned, or else I'd never have parked the car in the first place. Despite this fact, I still kept an eye out for anyone, anything that might be near us. Since becoming a Mom, my mind goes crazy running scenarios of what could happen in even the strangest circumstances. I almost wish I were my old level of not-quite-oblivious so that I could enjoy things a bit more. However, its probably better this way; my planning MacGuyver rolls, being ready at a moment's notice to run a million miles an hour to safety, and mentally walking myself through self defense moves that would put Chuck Norris to shame. Don't you mess with a Mama Bear.
Anyway...the remoteness of the wooded trail only served to intensify my wandering mind and up the ante on my adrenaline. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Mr. Clean coming up on us at a jog. I decided it would be a great time to call a few friends and family...you know, just to say hello. He passed us, jogging like a Neanderthal with granite muscles and sweat flying everywhere, me on the phone, mace in hand, pushing the jogger at a brisk pace and trying to look as mean as possible. **GRRR** He muttered a hello as he clomped by and I soon felt safer watching him jog into the distance ahead of us. About 1.5 in, I decided it was time to turn around. I felt safer thinking we would be going the opposite direction of Mr. Clean, and didn't want to overdo it on our first-in-a-while exercise jiggle...urr, adventure.
On our way back I got a little more freaked out than I should have. You know how your mind can play tricks on you? Well, mine decided to graduate to a full blown insanity. I began calculating the pace of the previously passing brute's and comparing it to that of my own, determining that if I kept up a certain pace, I'd make it back to the trailhead before anyone else could. The wind picked up and made the trees surrounding the trail rustle, their shadows making me certain that it was a perfect place for the headless horseman from Sleepy Hollow to emerge at any given moment. Old railroad timbers stacked near the trail made a perfect scenario for a crazed woodsman to be nearby, but I decided to rule that out.
I suppose my mind games became a strange motivation for me to jog harder than I normally would have. I'd been told the trail was pretty well traveled, was jogging along at a pretty good clip, with my child looking on as if she ruled the wood, and above all, knew that God was in control of every detail of our jaunt.
Toward the end of our adventure, once I'd calmed down, I noticed what a GREAT place those previously creepy trees would make for a family photo shoot, wondered what history the railroad timbers held of the people traveling back and forth between the two towns, and even began to feel a bit more motivated to return for future exercise. Despite the intense heat and my sluggishness from not having moved like that in a while, we were having fun.
Finally returning to the area where the car was parked, we be briefly visited with a nice man about to take off on a bike ride. He said his truck temperature gauge had just registered at 100 degrees, so exercising at that time was not for the faint of heart! I breathed a sigh as the nice man began his own journey down the trail, realized we'd survived my wild imaginings, and determined we'd be back again for a more enjoyable, calmer adventure. Maybe next time we can talk a friend into going with us!
August 29, 2011
Jenna's Absolutely Delicious, Yummy-Scrumptious Soft Tacos
Recently, I've been conjuring some easy-to-make meals that require little cooking time. I threw one together just last week and it was such a hit that I made it again for dinner tonight. The hubby and I devoured it, so I feel compelled to share the love.
Jenna's Absolutely Delicious, Yummy-Scrumptious Soft Tacos
Ingredients:
Corn Tortillas
Sour Cream/Plain Yogurt
1/2 head of Cilantro
1 can of chicken
1 can black beans
1 sm. white onion
4 jalepenos
2 T. coconut oil (un-coconuty flavored)
Lime slices
Preheat a skillet with the coconut oil. Slice the jalepenos and onions and saute' in the pan. Drain the juice off the canned chicken (you can reserve the juice for another recipe), slightly crumble and add to the sauteed veggies. Thoroughly rinse black beans then add them into the mix. Sprinkle with the fajita spice, stir together and heat through. Serve this in warmed corn tortillas with sour cream (or plain yogurt - it was delicious!) and top with chopped cilantro. Spritz with a lime wedge and prepare for your taste buds to sing with gratitude!
I might add that this meal goes really well when paired with a glass of white Moscato wine. Especially after a long day of errands. And enduring the summer heat. And listening to a whiny baby. ;)
Jenna's Absolutely Delicious, Yummy-Scrumptious Soft Tacos
Ingredients:
Corn Tortillas
Sour Cream/Plain Yogurt
1/2 head of Cilantro
1 can of chicken
1 can black beans
1 sm. white onion
4 jalepenos
2 T. coconut oil (un-coconuty flavored)
Lime slices
Preheat a skillet with the coconut oil. Slice the jalepenos and onions and saute' in the pan. Drain the juice off the canned chicken (you can reserve the juice for another recipe), slightly crumble and add to the sauteed veggies. Thoroughly rinse black beans then add them into the mix. Sprinkle with the fajita spice, stir together and heat through. Serve this in warmed corn tortillas with sour cream (or plain yogurt - it was delicious!) and top with chopped cilantro. Spritz with a lime wedge and prepare for your taste buds to sing with gratitude!
I might add that this meal goes really well when paired with a glass of white Moscato wine. Especially after a long day of errands. And enduring the summer heat. And listening to a whiny baby. ;)
August 22, 2011
Peaches!
The other day I decided to stop by our local Farmer's Market. I hadn't been in for a good while because while it's a great sized market, many of their products are not local. (sigh) Despite this, I stopped by to poke around. Much to my delight, they had a large box of peaches labeled "Seconds" they were selling for 60 cents a pound!!! Seconds are typically the imperfect or slightly bruised fruit or veggies that aren't as likely to sell. Not having a perfect-peach-prejudice, I quickly began picking through and before I knew it, I was toting home a 14 pound box of peaches!
Since I refused to buy peaches during our town's peach festival earlier this summer for ONE DOLLAR A PEACH(oh my!), I was a tad over excited and possibly had a slight case of my eyes being bigger than my stomach. I laid the baby down for a nap and promptly gave the peaches a nice cold bath in the sink. Then I laid them out on the counter...and kept laying them out on the counter...until they covered the majority of the surface of the kitchen counter top. All being perfectly ripe and delicious, I knew I had to act fast before any of them started to turn.
Many years ago, one of my Mom's friends, "Auntie Jan", was known for her spiced peach preserves. I remember the first time I tasted her preserves on a warm buttery biscuit...it was the very essence of fall itself. It's the kind of thing that makes you want to slip into your comfy jeans, turn on some moody piano solos and sit down to write in your journal as the weather turns cooler. It was just that good.
With so many peaches before me and realizing I'd once again forgotten to quiz my husband ("On a scale of 1 to 10...how much to you like peaches?"), the only proper destiny for those delectable fruits was to make some of Auntie Jan's peach preserves!
I ran to our local Gibson's, which I've been informed was the precursor to Wally World, picked up some Sure-Jell, a box of quilted jelly jars and headed home to get to work. Though unable to be very involved in the process, Olivia should be credited with helping as she happily played in her baby gym whilst I prepped the peaches. I do have to admit...the recipe called for 10 cups, which I determined to be about 13 peaches, but by the time I was done slicing everything I had nibbled enough to require 14. ;) How could I not when they were so ripe, and juicy, and beautiful?!
Working in between baby feeding and her naps, making my own batch of preserves took a good portion of the day to complete, but by the time my hubby got home, I had several pints of spiced peach preserves to show him. I also got my answer...he does like peaches. ;) *phew*
Since I refused to buy peaches during our town's peach festival earlier this summer for ONE DOLLAR A PEACH(oh my!), I was a tad over excited and possibly had a slight case of my eyes being bigger than my stomach. I laid the baby down for a nap and promptly gave the peaches a nice cold bath in the sink. Then I laid them out on the counter...and kept laying them out on the counter...until they covered the majority of the surface of the kitchen counter top. All being perfectly ripe and delicious, I knew I had to act fast before any of them started to turn.
Many years ago, one of my Mom's friends, "Auntie Jan", was known for her spiced peach preserves. I remember the first time I tasted her preserves on a warm buttery biscuit...it was the very essence of fall itself. It's the kind of thing that makes you want to slip into your comfy jeans, turn on some moody piano solos and sit down to write in your journal as the weather turns cooler. It was just that good.
With so many peaches before me and realizing I'd once again forgotten to quiz my husband ("On a scale of 1 to 10...how much to you like peaches?"), the only proper destiny for those delectable fruits was to make some of Auntie Jan's peach preserves!
I ran to our local Gibson's, which I've been informed was the precursor to Wally World, picked up some Sure-Jell, a box of quilted jelly jars and headed home to get to work. Though unable to be very involved in the process, Olivia should be credited with helping as she happily played in her baby gym whilst I prepped the peaches. I do have to admit...the recipe called for 10 cups, which I determined to be about 13 peaches, but by the time I was done slicing everything I had nibbled enough to require 14. ;) How could I not when they were so ripe, and juicy, and beautiful?!
Working in between baby feeding and her naps, making my own batch of preserves took a good portion of the day to complete, but by the time my hubby got home, I had several pints of spiced peach preserves to show him. I also got my answer...he does like peaches. ;) *phew*
August 16, 2011
Mummy Tummy
It's been 3 months since I no longer had to peek over my enormous belly to see my toes. Even though losing a good deal of the baby weight hasn't been too horrific of a process, my tummy is still recovering from hauling around such a large package. It's also been screaming from carrying said package on the outside of my tummy!
At the beginning of my pregnancy, my dear friend Sarah recommended to me a book by Julie Tupler called "Lose Your Mummy Tummy". I'd forgotten about it until just a few weeks ago. If I recall, it came to me as I was lying on the bed attempting to try on a pre-baby swinsuit. :-p After a fruitless search at our library, I defaulted to dear-ole Amazon. Swinging through the search box I found the book and anxiously awaited it's arrival.
In-between baby's naps, I discovered that anybody can have a "Mummy Tummy". Think beer-bellies, the belly and muffin-topped, overweight, the young and old alike...not just Moms with pregnancy stretched stomach muscles. The buldge is a problem called diastasis which is caused by the separation of the outer abdominal muscles. A look into how our bodies work, reveals that typical crunches, sit ups and criss-cross exercises will exacerbate the diastasis instead of helping to correct it.
The good news is that with simple, specific movements, the problem is not permanent and can alleviate not just tummy troubles but lower back pain as well. This helps not just recovering Moms, but anyone with a flabby stomach and back issues. Since our muscles help to support each other, it only makes sense that if you strengthen the front, the back with be better supported in the process.
I know I'm putting myself out there for scrutiny by writing a review on a no-more-flabby-stomach book, but as I've been working at it and slowing seeing and feeling results, I had to share. I've been reminded and better educated on how to make the most of my daily activities to regain strength in my core. In doing so, I'm a healthier, and as my clothes fit around the waist, happier, wife and Mommy. I highly recommend this book, and at some point in the future I'd also like to read Julie Tupler's book called "Maternal Fitness". Maybe it'll be in the our library system by then...
At the beginning of my pregnancy, my dear friend Sarah recommended to me a book by Julie Tupler called "Lose Your Mummy Tummy". I'd forgotten about it until just a few weeks ago. If I recall, it came to me as I was lying on the bed attempting to try on a pre-baby swinsuit. :-p After a fruitless search at our library, I defaulted to dear-ole Amazon. Swinging through the search box I found the book and anxiously awaited it's arrival.
In-between baby's naps, I discovered that anybody can have a "Mummy Tummy". Think beer-bellies, the belly and muffin-topped, overweight, the young and old alike...not just Moms with pregnancy stretched stomach muscles. The buldge is a problem called diastasis which is caused by the separation of the outer abdominal muscles. A look into how our bodies work, reveals that typical crunches, sit ups and criss-cross exercises will exacerbate the diastasis instead of helping to correct it.
The good news is that with simple, specific movements, the problem is not permanent and can alleviate not just tummy troubles but lower back pain as well. This helps not just recovering Moms, but anyone with a flabby stomach and back issues. Since our muscles help to support each other, it only makes sense that if you strengthen the front, the back with be better supported in the process.
I know I'm putting myself out there for scrutiny by writing a review on a no-more-flabby-stomach book, but as I've been working at it and slowing seeing and feeling results, I had to share. I've been reminded and better educated on how to make the most of my daily activities to regain strength in my core. In doing so, I'm a healthier, and as my clothes fit around the waist, happier, wife and Mommy. I highly recommend this book, and at some point in the future I'd also like to read Julie Tupler's book called "Maternal Fitness". Maybe it'll be in the our library system by then...
August 8, 2011
Baby Wearing
Before Olivia was born I found an adorable pink and brown baby sling at a garage sale. It was a trendy brand I'd seen online so I was delighted to pay $4 for it. At 8 months pregnant I tried it on and even put a stuffed animal in it to get an idea of how my baby would fit. Now that our "honey-badger" (as Andrew has dubbed her) is here, my hands have been quite full. It's been really nice when I need to run errands, to just slip her in the sling before going into a store so I have both of my hands free.
I learned early on that taking her anywhere (especially to the grocery store) in her car seat was a bad idea. For some reason, complete strangers feel compelled to not just admire your baby at a distance, but to reach in and touch her face and hands! THIS kind of behavior for a new germophobic Mom is completely unsettling. Goodness knows where other people's hands have been...and they're touching my baby! **shiver**
After that particular experience, I whipped out the sling, and the funny this was that people weren't nearly as apt to touch my bundle.
My theory is this:
People love and want to touch babies.
People know better than to touch other people.
Therefore, if you wear your baby and keep her in your personal bubble space, people know better than to touch her.
Over the last three month, my theory has proved correct and my baby wearing has continued. Not only has the sling been great to protect the sweet pea from stranger's germs, but also because she loves being close to me and it keeps her quiet. Let me tell you now: Happy, quiet babies make errands pleasantly possible.
With Olivia in the sling, I thought my worries were over. I could easily run around town getting my errands done in safety and comfort. The only thing I hadn't accounted for was that in this one horse town, baby wearing draws a LOT of attention. It's almost like I've grown a third arm or something. I'll see someone pointing/looking in my general direction and whisper to their friend "She's got a baby in there." One guy startled at the check out counter when she saw the munchkin's face peek out and exclaimed "Oh wow, I thought that was a purse!" New Moms will stop me and ask if I like the sling and ask where they can get one. Others will walk straight up to me and ask for a peek and admire. The most interesting has got to be the passers-by who will walk past, see I'm carrying my girl, smile and aren't quite sure what to say. We end up smiling and nodding at each other as if to silently communicate: "Oh, you're carrying your baby. How cute." "Yes. I am. Thank you."
I highly recommend baby wearing for numerous reasons, but warn if you do and happen to be in our town, just plan to spend a little extra time in the grocery store smiling and nodding.
I learned early on that taking her anywhere (especially to the grocery store) in her car seat was a bad idea. For some reason, complete strangers feel compelled to not just admire your baby at a distance, but to reach in and touch her face and hands! THIS kind of behavior for a new germophobic Mom is completely unsettling. Goodness knows where other people's hands have been...and they're touching my baby! **shiver**
After that particular experience, I whipped out the sling, and the funny this was that people weren't nearly as apt to touch my bundle.
My theory is this:
People love and want to touch babies.
People know better than to touch other people.
Therefore, if you wear your baby and keep her in your personal bubble space, people know better than to touch her.
Over the last three month, my theory has proved correct and my baby wearing has continued. Not only has the sling been great to protect the sweet pea from stranger's germs, but also because she loves being close to me and it keeps her quiet. Let me tell you now: Happy, quiet babies make errands pleasantly possible.
With Olivia in the sling, I thought my worries were over. I could easily run around town getting my errands done in safety and comfort. The only thing I hadn't accounted for was that in this one horse town, baby wearing draws a LOT of attention. It's almost like I've grown a third arm or something. I'll see someone pointing/looking in my general direction and whisper to their friend "She's got a baby in there." One guy startled at the check out counter when she saw the munchkin's face peek out and exclaimed "Oh wow, I thought that was a purse!" New Moms will stop me and ask if I like the sling and ask where they can get one. Others will walk straight up to me and ask for a peek and admire. The most interesting has got to be the passers-by who will walk past, see I'm carrying my girl, smile and aren't quite sure what to say. We end up smiling and nodding at each other as if to silently communicate: "Oh, you're carrying your baby. How cute." "Yes. I am. Thank you."
I highly recommend baby wearing for numerous reasons, but warn if you do and happen to be in our town, just plan to spend a little extra time in the grocery store smiling and nodding.
July 27, 2011
De-cluttering
Last week the munchkin and I were able to visit our family down south. It was a blast! I was able to see some dear friends, meet some new ones, spend time with my precious Mom, and soak in some much needed vitamin D (aka - get a white girl's sunburn).
One of the unique facets of the visit was the near constant threat of needing to evacuate the house. My folks put their house on the market a few days before we arrived, and during our stay, we had to take off for a house showing nearly 8 times! Since houses tend to sell better when there is little paraphernalia laying around, Mom has been de-cluttering for a good month or two.
When I first arrived, I was amazed at how drastically paring down "stuff" had made the house look rather magazine-like. The house looked so much more open, clean, and fresh. No magazines stacked on the table, nothing stored on top of cabinets, only select books were displayed on the bookshelves etc,...it looked fantastic. I was struck by how much "stuff" can take over the nooks and crannies of our homes before we realize we're being overrun. Is it a post-depression era mentality that has caused later generations to hoard? I'm inclined to think that the root of collecting is just plain ole' sin. Mom kept commenting during our visit how much easier life is not having to keep up with so much. This was inspiring.
Returning home, I had a fire burning underneath me to do some de-cluttering of my own. Having had some coaching from Mom, I had to think differently in order to attack our stuff. Do we really use all of our coffee mugs? Do we really need so many papers/pictures/stuff smothering our refrigerator? What exactly is taking up so much space under the bathroom cabinet?! Do we use these products anymore and why are we storing them?
After several hours of work, the house looks SO much better. Hubby and I are happier, too! Having only a year of marriage under our belts, I hope we can train ourselves this early on to assess if anything we bring into our home is necessary, or just junk that will clutter our lives.
As usual, God was up to more than just having me de-clutter, and turned the cleaning process into something spiritual. He brought some questions to my mind:
"What is cluttering my spiritual life? Are there things filling my heart that I need to get rid of? Are there old thoughts or attitudes that need to be kicked out? What lies have I believed that effect the way I act towards others, and ultimately, toward God?"
De-cluttering has looked like:
Remembering Who I belong to and the miraculous gift of salvation. Being thankful for having such a loving husband and precious daughter. Praying like my life depends on it and knowing I won't ever be able to pray enough. Reading the Word and believing it. Rejecting the lies the enemy tries to feed my mind via comparison to others. I need to be faithful to where the Lord has called me and nowhere else.
There is a fresh feeling in both my home and spirit with all this de-cluttering going on. I marvel to think of how closely the physical and spiritual are intertwined. In the future, I will do well to remember that if the home is stuffy, it's probably a reflection of my heart and time to de-clutter.
By way of loving whomever reads this blog, I must ask: Is there any de-cluttering that you need to do?
One of the unique facets of the visit was the near constant threat of needing to evacuate the house. My folks put their house on the market a few days before we arrived, and during our stay, we had to take off for a house showing nearly 8 times! Since houses tend to sell better when there is little paraphernalia laying around, Mom has been de-cluttering for a good month or two.
When I first arrived, I was amazed at how drastically paring down "stuff" had made the house look rather magazine-like. The house looked so much more open, clean, and fresh. No magazines stacked on the table, nothing stored on top of cabinets, only select books were displayed on the bookshelves etc,...it looked fantastic. I was struck by how much "stuff" can take over the nooks and crannies of our homes before we realize we're being overrun. Is it a post-depression era mentality that has caused later generations to hoard? I'm inclined to think that the root of collecting is just plain ole' sin. Mom kept commenting during our visit how much easier life is not having to keep up with so much. This was inspiring.
Returning home, I had a fire burning underneath me to do some de-cluttering of my own. Having had some coaching from Mom, I had to think differently in order to attack our stuff. Do we really use all of our coffee mugs? Do we really need so many papers/pictures/stuff smothering our refrigerator? What exactly is taking up so much space under the bathroom cabinet?! Do we use these products anymore and why are we storing them?
After several hours of work, the house looks SO much better. Hubby and I are happier, too! Having only a year of marriage under our belts, I hope we can train ourselves this early on to assess if anything we bring into our home is necessary, or just junk that will clutter our lives.
As usual, God was up to more than just having me de-clutter, and turned the cleaning process into something spiritual. He brought some questions to my mind:
"What is cluttering my spiritual life? Are there things filling my heart that I need to get rid of? Are there old thoughts or attitudes that need to be kicked out? What lies have I believed that effect the way I act towards others, and ultimately, toward God?"
De-cluttering has looked like:
Remembering Who I belong to and the miraculous gift of salvation. Being thankful for having such a loving husband and precious daughter. Praying like my life depends on it and knowing I won't ever be able to pray enough. Reading the Word and believing it. Rejecting the lies the enemy tries to feed my mind via comparison to others. I need to be faithful to where the Lord has called me and nowhere else.
There is a fresh feeling in both my home and spirit with all this de-cluttering going on. I marvel to think of how closely the physical and spiritual are intertwined. In the future, I will do well to remember that if the home is stuffy, it's probably a reflection of my heart and time to de-clutter.
By way of loving whomever reads this blog, I must ask: Is there any de-cluttering that you need to do?
July 15, 2011
Drama! Drama!
Fact: I am a great sucker for BBC and Masterpiece Theater dramas.
I was first introduced to the epic mini-series, Pride and Prejudice, by my girl's Bible study group at age 16. Fresh from swimming in the pond, shooting snakes, and driving the tractor, I thought the girls were a bit nuts when they told me their favorite movie was a 5 hour British mini-series. One night at a sleep over, the show was played and I was hooked. This was a pivotal moment because from that point on, my craving for British drama only intensified.
Not too many years ago my family went on an incredibly long kick of watching BBC and similar type dramas. We devoured Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, North and South, Wives and Daughters...whatever we could get our hands on. Dad even joined us! As much as he made light of it before, he grew a quick appreciation for the wit of British humor.
Once we'd seen the staples, it was always a sort of treasure hunt to find new dramas to watch with Mom and my sisters. We'd get a lead from friends on a new-to-us series and soon enough it would become our latest favorite. Cranford was one of the last discoveries my sister and I made before leaving home.
When Andrew and I were creating our wedding registry, the one movie I had to add to the list was P&P. Fear not dear friends, it was THE version with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth. (Is the any other?!) Andrew registered for some movie with Clint Eastwood that I'd never heard of..."Dirty Harry". THAT should have been one of my first clues that I shouldn't expect him to sit down with me over a cup of tea and savor the lines of Jane Austen for 5 hours. He's a good sport about shorter romantic movies, but when it comes to 5 hours of it, I appreciate and respect his manliness.
A couple months before Olivia was born, I discovered that Cranford had a sequel! Delighted, I immediately added it to our dvd cue and was later asked by my husband "What in the world is Crandford?!". He saw a little bit of it one evening as I lay on the couch in my whale-like state and surmised that the lack of sufficient female drama in my own life, having moved away from Mom and my sisters, was being made up for through this type of show. From this point on he referred to "Cranford" as "Lameford".
Not too long after I saw "Return to Cranford", I got a recommendation for a new mini-series called "Larkrise to Candleford". At the time I was unaware that it was a FORTY PART SERIES, but after enjoying the first show, lined up the Netflix cue and anxiously awaited the arrival of the following dvds. I watching the mailbox like a hawk in between keeping house and studying up on all things baby. My husband was kind enough to let me temporarily dominate the dvd cue, but I think I had it on rough terms because he relentlessly referred to it as "Larkrise to LAMEford". Har-har, very funny.
Now that Olivia is here, I plan to indoctrinate her from an early age. We will dress up and have tea. Our humble home, urr...estate, might be called something like Weatherfordshire. Not to be confused with Worcestershire. We will exemplify the most admirable qualities of Elizabeth Bennett, and try our hardest to avoid any feelings of pride or prejudice. We will wear our nicest frocks for visits with company (or shorts and t-shirts...minor details), and write letters to our family in our finest hand. Perhaps in the winter, when the days grow very cold, we will snuggle together under a blanket and enjoy a good movie together. One this is for certain, when my new little buddy begins to speak, "Lameford" will NOT be part of her vocabulary.
I was first introduced to the epic mini-series, Pride and Prejudice, by my girl's Bible study group at age 16. Fresh from swimming in the pond, shooting snakes, and driving the tractor, I thought the girls were a bit nuts when they told me their favorite movie was a 5 hour British mini-series. One night at a sleep over, the show was played and I was hooked. This was a pivotal moment because from that point on, my craving for British drama only intensified.
Not too many years ago my family went on an incredibly long kick of watching BBC and similar type dramas. We devoured Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, North and South, Wives and Daughters...whatever we could get our hands on. Dad even joined us! As much as he made light of it before, he grew a quick appreciation for the wit of British humor.
Once we'd seen the staples, it was always a sort of treasure hunt to find new dramas to watch with Mom and my sisters. We'd get a lead from friends on a new-to-us series and soon enough it would become our latest favorite. Cranford was one of the last discoveries my sister and I made before leaving home.
When Andrew and I were creating our wedding registry, the one movie I had to add to the list was P&P. Fear not dear friends, it was THE version with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth. (Is the any other?!) Andrew registered for some movie with Clint Eastwood that I'd never heard of..."Dirty Harry". THAT should have been one of my first clues that I shouldn't expect him to sit down with me over a cup of tea and savor the lines of Jane Austen for 5 hours. He's a good sport about shorter romantic movies, but when it comes to 5 hours of it, I appreciate and respect his manliness.
A couple months before Olivia was born, I discovered that Cranford had a sequel! Delighted, I immediately added it to our dvd cue and was later asked by my husband "What in the world is Crandford?!". He saw a little bit of it one evening as I lay on the couch in my whale-like state and surmised that the lack of sufficient female drama in my own life, having moved away from Mom and my sisters, was being made up for through this type of show. From this point on he referred to "Cranford" as "Lameford".
Not too long after I saw "Return to Cranford", I got a recommendation for a new mini-series called "Larkrise to Candleford". At the time I was unaware that it was a FORTY PART SERIES, but after enjoying the first show, lined up the Netflix cue and anxiously awaited the arrival of the following dvds. I watching the mailbox like a hawk in between keeping house and studying up on all things baby. My husband was kind enough to let me temporarily dominate the dvd cue, but I think I had it on rough terms because he relentlessly referred to it as "Larkrise to LAMEford". Har-har, very funny.
Now that Olivia is here, I plan to indoctrinate her from an early age. We will dress up and have tea. Our humble home, urr...estate, might be called something like Weatherfordshire. Not to be confused with Worcestershire. We will exemplify the most admirable qualities of Elizabeth Bennett, and try our hardest to avoid any feelings of pride or prejudice. We will wear our nicest frocks for visits with company (or shorts and t-shirts...minor details), and write letters to our family in our finest hand. Perhaps in the winter, when the days grow very cold, we will snuggle together under a blanket and enjoy a good movie together. One this is for certain, when my new little buddy begins to speak, "Lameford" will NOT be part of her vocabulary.
July 10, 2011
Redeem the Time
Last week, Chick-Fil-A had their annual "Cow Appreciation Day" where if you dress like a cow, they give you a free meal. The year before, I joined some friends and we (one more eagerly than the rest of us) set out to our nearby Chick-Fil-A dressed as bovine and received our prize. Andrew was unable to go b/c he was working but assured us that he WOULD have gone with us.
Lately the Lord has been putting on my heart to make more of life than I have been. As silly as it may sound, I got really excited when I saw the update that Cow Appreciation Day was coming up again. Andrew assured me that he would dress up with us, so I cut up felt and added spots to our clothing. Olivia looked particularly adorable with her little cow ears. She was grumpy before we left so I teased Andrew that she had a case of mad cow disease.
We grinned when we walked into the store and heard "oohs" and "ahhs" about the baby cow that had just come in. We grinned as we sat eating our food, looking at each other with black felt tucked into my hair and under his hat. We grinned looking at our little calf contentedly chewing on her hands. It was one of the silliest, grinning-est meals we'd had in quite a while. Was it the felt ears on our heads? Or could it be that we were making more of that moment than we might have otherwise?
I'm challenged to be more intentional about making moments special. To pull out the nice dishes...just because. To put on a record and dance. To not take myself so seriously that I can't celebrate silly things like Cow Appreciation Day. To celebrate half birthdays, winter's half over day, Sabbath meals, and whatever else may present itself. By seeking moments to celebrate, I can't help but think we give glory to our Father for being a joyful people.
Lately the Lord has been putting on my heart to make more of life than I have been. As silly as it may sound, I got really excited when I saw the update that Cow Appreciation Day was coming up again. Andrew assured me that he would dress up with us, so I cut up felt and added spots to our clothing. Olivia looked particularly adorable with her little cow ears. She was grumpy before we left so I teased Andrew that she had a case of mad cow disease.
We grinned when we walked into the store and heard "oohs" and "ahhs" about the baby cow that had just come in. We grinned as we sat eating our food, looking at each other with black felt tucked into my hair and under his hat. We grinned looking at our little calf contentedly chewing on her hands. It was one of the silliest, grinning-est meals we'd had in quite a while. Was it the felt ears on our heads? Or could it be that we were making more of that moment than we might have otherwise?
I'm challenged to be more intentional about making moments special. To pull out the nice dishes...just because. To put on a record and dance. To not take myself so seriously that I can't celebrate silly things like Cow Appreciation Day. To celebrate half birthdays, winter's half over day, Sabbath meals, and whatever else may present itself. By seeking moments to celebrate, I can't help but think we give glory to our Father for being a joyful people.
July 7, 2011
Pork chop-chops w/ Hoisin sauce
I used hoisin sauce for the first time. I saw it in a recipe and thought I'd give it a try. Last night we had pan fried pork chops with steamed veggies and white rice. Andrew told me he wasn't a fan of pork chops (of course I discover this AFTER I've just bought several on sale!), but my gracious man said he'd give them a try. While I managed to avoid over cooking the pork chops, I'm attributing the success of the dinner to the delicious hoisin sauce. Andrew loved them, so they're sure to be on the menu again soon.
For the sauce, I mixed up:
1/4 cup of hoisin sauce
2 T. rice vinegar (Tablespoon also known as a glug-glug)
4 T. soy sauce (or Bragg's Amino Acids)
1/2 tsp. ginger powder (or freshly grated ginger)
1 dash of cayenne powder
I mixed this up and poured it over 3 medium sized pork chops and let them simmer on low for just a few minutes before serving. In the future, I will make a double batch of the sauce. It had a bit of bite to it and was a delightful with the white rice and veggies.
**The only great downside to hoisin sauce is that it's not gluten free. :-P
For the sauce, I mixed up:
1/4 cup of hoisin sauce
2 T. rice vinegar (Tablespoon also known as a glug-glug)
4 T. soy sauce (or Bragg's Amino Acids)
1/2 tsp. ginger powder (or freshly grated ginger)
1 dash of cayenne powder
I mixed this up and poured it over 3 medium sized pork chops and let them simmer on low for just a few minutes before serving. In the future, I will make a double batch of the sauce. It had a bit of bite to it and was a delightful with the white rice and veggies.
**The only great downside to hoisin sauce is that it's not gluten free. :-P
June 29, 2011
M & M
Alas, two of the hens were indeed roos.
I think we were in denial.
**Come on people, your "hens" are CROWING and are twice as big as the other 2, very docile, chickens!**
Andrew rounded up the big boys, formerly known as Goldilocks and Ethel and took them back to the chicken farm. The farmer gladly threw our roosters into his rooster pens and swapped them out for two new little ladies. Andrew brought back a Silver Laced Wyandotte (like Ethel but female), and a Brahma, which is white with a black collar, and white fur-like feathers down to her toes. Very stylish, but completely impractical in this heat!
I knew I might be in trouble when Andrew asked if he could name one of the new hens and I could name the other. Based on Jemimah's small chick gastrointestinal issues giving her the nickname "Poopy Butt", I was slightly worried. I agreed to the deal and Red and Jemimah are now joined by the younger pair of hens: Milk Toast and Matilda. Can you guess who named who?!
From the start Jemimah made it VERY clear that she was the boss of the coop. If chickens could experience the effect of a birth order, she'd definitely be the bossy firstborn. Don't ask me how I know this.
After a few pecks, poor little Milk Toast was so intimidated that she hid under the food bin until Matilda was near enough to sit next to for support. Red doesn't seem bothered by the new chicks, which makes me glad because ole Poopy Butt...urr...Jemimah is enough of a bully to contend with by herself. The farmer said the new girls may be picked on (or is it pecked on?) for a while, but will grow and bullying shouldn't be an issue. We shall see. I wish I knew how old the little ones are, to give us an idea of when they might start laying. Time will tell.
Goldilocks and Ethel, it was nice knowing you. May you be able to contend with the bigger roosters at the chicken farm, make lots of new baby chicks, and someday end up as nice juicy chicken dinners. You never knew how easy you had it in the Borne coop!
I think we were in denial.
**Come on people, your "hens" are CROWING and are twice as big as the other 2, very docile, chickens!**
Andrew rounded up the big boys, formerly known as Goldilocks and Ethel and took them back to the chicken farm. The farmer gladly threw our roosters into his rooster pens and swapped them out for two new little ladies. Andrew brought back a Silver Laced Wyandotte (like Ethel but female), and a Brahma, which is white with a black collar, and white fur-like feathers down to her toes. Very stylish, but completely impractical in this heat!
I knew I might be in trouble when Andrew asked if he could name one of the new hens and I could name the other. Based on Jemimah's small chick gastrointestinal issues giving her the nickname "Poopy Butt", I was slightly worried. I agreed to the deal and Red and Jemimah are now joined by the younger pair of hens: Milk Toast and Matilda. Can you guess who named who?!
From the start Jemimah made it VERY clear that she was the boss of the coop. If chickens could experience the effect of a birth order, she'd definitely be the bossy firstborn. Don't ask me how I know this.
After a few pecks, poor little Milk Toast was so intimidated that she hid under the food bin until Matilda was near enough to sit next to for support. Red doesn't seem bothered by the new chicks, which makes me glad because ole Poopy Butt...urr...Jemimah is enough of a bully to contend with by herself. The farmer said the new girls may be picked on (or is it pecked on?) for a while, but will grow and bullying shouldn't be an issue. We shall see. I wish I knew how old the little ones are, to give us an idea of when they might start laying. Time will tell.
Goldilocks and Ethel, it was nice knowing you. May you be able to contend with the bigger roosters at the chicken farm, make lots of new baby chicks, and someday end up as nice juicy chicken dinners. You never knew how easy you had it in the Borne coop!
June 24, 2011
Muffins belong in pans, NOT on my tummy
Word of warning:
6 weeks out from having a baby, do NOT attempt trying on your fun summer clothing from the previous year. Especially do not try on any of your swimsuits. Don't even think about it!!! Sure you've lost a bunch of weight and you're feeling a bit more confident, but there are a couple of sneaky pounds that like to rest right where your pants (used to) button, and the top of your skirt (used to) zip. I'm telling you, DON'T DO IT!
Ignoring this warning may lead to:
Your feeling like too much sausage stuffed into too little casing. Or, it might give you a renewed desire to get outside in the blistering heat and burn off those last couple of pounds. OR, you may have bouts of uncontrollable sobbing, remembering your thinner self...which may depress you even more and lead to throwing yourself on the floor, and stuffing Little Debbie snack cakes into your mouth. You already feel fat, so what the heck?
As for myself, I'm going to opt for feeling the sausage effect, enjoy my looser waist-ed clothing, and keep up with the crunches until the rest of me can fit into last year's wardrobe. Cute clothing, I'll be back!
P.S. Having to deal with a couple extra pounds is completely forgotten when my girl gives me one of her cheesy toothless grins!
6 weeks out from having a baby, do NOT attempt trying on your fun summer clothing from the previous year. Especially do not try on any of your swimsuits. Don't even think about it!!! Sure you've lost a bunch of weight and you're feeling a bit more confident, but there are a couple of sneaky pounds that like to rest right where your pants (used to) button, and the top of your skirt (used to) zip. I'm telling you, DON'T DO IT!
Ignoring this warning may lead to:
Your feeling like too much sausage stuffed into too little casing. Or, it might give you a renewed desire to get outside in the blistering heat and burn off those last couple of pounds. OR, you may have bouts of uncontrollable sobbing, remembering your thinner self...which may depress you even more and lead to throwing yourself on the floor, and stuffing Little Debbie snack cakes into your mouth. You already feel fat, so what the heck?
As for myself, I'm going to opt for feeling the sausage effect, enjoy my looser waist-ed clothing, and keep up with the crunches until the rest of me can fit into last year's wardrobe. Cute clothing, I'll be back!
P.S. Having to deal with a couple extra pounds is completely forgotten when my girl gives me one of her cheesy toothless grins!
June 23, 2011
Produce
Here are photos to show you how the garden is doing.
Behold, the Behemoth Zucchini!
Maters, anyone?
Behold, the Behemoth Zucchini!
Maters, anyone?
June 17, 2011
Squash Salad
It's hot. Really hot. A fresh-from-the-oven kind of meal isn't so desirable when it's 101 degrees outside! In attempt to stay cool and avoid the stove, I've been encouraged to find recipes that can be served and enjoyed straight from the fridge. When it regards our bumper crop of squash, imagine my delight in finding the below recipe in the latest Everyday "Food" magazine. Once again, hats off to you, Martha Stewart.
Following suit with most recipes, I did my own bit of tweaking, but here's what's (NOT) cooking for dinner at the Bornes tonight.
Squash Salad:
2 med. sized yellow squash thinly and unevenly sliced
1/4 red onion, cut into slivers ("Slivers" is a fun word.)
1 T. EVOO
Juice from 1/2 lemon, squeezed
1/2 c. Greek yogurt (Is it just me or it this stuff really sour cream in disguise?! If you don't have this yogurt, just use sour cream. Seriously.)
1 tsp. chopped parsley or basil (I used basil, dried from our garden. The fresh stuff would have been good too, but it's entirely too hot to attempt such a venture and not risk heat stroke.) ;)
1 tsp. chopped mint leaves
Coarse ground salt and pepper to taste
Mix up all of these ingredients in a medium sized bowl and chill before serving.
I'm planning to serve this with chilled asparagus hinted with vinegar, sauteed onions and beef burgers (minus the bun). I'm so excited.
The tartness of the yogurt combined with the lemon and herb is very refreshing.
Following suit with most recipes, I did my own bit of tweaking, but here's what's (NOT) cooking for dinner at the Bornes tonight.
Squash Salad:
2 med. sized yellow squash thinly and unevenly sliced
1/4 red onion, cut into slivers ("Slivers" is a fun word.)
1 T. EVOO
Juice from 1/2 lemon, squeezed
1/2 c. Greek yogurt (Is it just me or it this stuff really sour cream in disguise?! If you don't have this yogurt, just use sour cream. Seriously.)
1 tsp. chopped parsley or basil (I used basil, dried from our garden. The fresh stuff would have been good too, but it's entirely too hot to attempt such a venture and not risk heat stroke.) ;)
1 tsp. chopped mint leaves
Coarse ground salt and pepper to taste
Mix up all of these ingredients in a medium sized bowl and chill before serving.
I'm planning to serve this with chilled asparagus hinted with vinegar, sauteed onions and beef burgers (minus the bun). I'm so excited.
The tartness of the yogurt combined with the lemon and herb is very refreshing.
June 15, 2011
Mozzarella Zucchini Recipe
As forewarned by Erin, I planted more than 1 zucchini and squash plant and we have seemingly been over-run with the produce. After sending some home with friends and family, AND the fact that Andrew can still be caught with the garlic salt shaker grazing after work, we've finally caught up and are now waiting for more.
It's been a satisfying thing to use produce from our garden to make our dinners and the other night was no exception. I had the last pick of the zucchini in the refrigerator and found a great recipe from my "Everyday Food" magazine. I tweaked it a bit, but it turned out to be a hit.
Here's how it's made:
Slice zucchini in quarters or halves and lay on a broiler-proof or tin foil wrapped and greased baking sheet.
Mix together 2 tablespoons of olive oil, 1 tablespoon of (rice) vinegar, 1 teaspoon of fresh, chopped oregano, and 2-3 seeded and chopped plum tomatoes.
Stir these together and evenly spread over the zucchini. Add a sprinkle of salt and pepper then bake for 10 minutes at 350*. (You may need to bake it for less time because you don't want it to get mushy!)
Once baked, remove from the oven and generously sprinkle grated mozzarella cheese on top.
Before returning the pan to the oven, using oven mitts, move the highest rack to the top oven space. Turn on your broiler. Place your pan of cheesy mozzarella zucchini on the top oven rack and broil for 6-8 minutes (at 2 minute intervals) or until the cheese is bubbly and starting to brown.
Remove from the oven, let everything cool for a few minutes, then enjoy!
This turned out to be a new favorite of Andrew's and mine. Or maybe it was the bacon served with it? I think the next time around I'll turn this recipe into more of a gluten-free style pizza since it would be excellent with meat (perhaps, crumbled bacon?!) and veggie toppings before adding the cheese.
As you can see from the picture below, I had excellent help in the kitchen! My food safety training has not allowed bare feet near food, but we came to an agreement. Olivia and I decided that she could help since her feet are yet to touch the ground, she agreed not to kick the pan, and obliged to model the food. I've got myself a little sous chef! :)
It's been a satisfying thing to use produce from our garden to make our dinners and the other night was no exception. I had the last pick of the zucchini in the refrigerator and found a great recipe from my "Everyday Food" magazine. I tweaked it a bit, but it turned out to be a hit.
Here's how it's made:
Slice zucchini in quarters or halves and lay on a broiler-proof or tin foil wrapped and greased baking sheet.
Mix together 2 tablespoons of olive oil, 1 tablespoon of (rice) vinegar, 1 teaspoon of fresh, chopped oregano, and 2-3 seeded and chopped plum tomatoes.
Stir these together and evenly spread over the zucchini. Add a sprinkle of salt and pepper then bake for 10 minutes at 350*. (You may need to bake it for less time because you don't want it to get mushy!)
Once baked, remove from the oven and generously sprinkle grated mozzarella cheese on top.
Before returning the pan to the oven, using oven mitts, move the highest rack to the top oven space. Turn on your broiler. Place your pan of cheesy mozzarella zucchini on the top oven rack and broil for 6-8 minutes (at 2 minute intervals) or until the cheese is bubbly and starting to brown.
Remove from the oven, let everything cool for a few minutes, then enjoy!
This turned out to be a new favorite of Andrew's and mine. Or maybe it was the bacon served with it? I think the next time around I'll turn this recipe into more of a gluten-free style pizza since it would be excellent with meat (perhaps, crumbled bacon?!) and veggie toppings before adding the cheese.
As you can see from the picture below, I had excellent help in the kitchen! My food safety training has not allowed bare feet near food, but we came to an agreement. Olivia and I decided that she could help since her feet are yet to touch the ground, she agreed not to kick the pan, and obliged to model the food. I've got myself a little sous chef! :)
June 13, 2011
Bundt?
In the movie, "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" there is a scene where the engaged couple's parents meet. They are about as different as night and day. The groom's mousy mother brings a bundt cake and as the Greek mother walks away with it, she suspiciously looks at it before loudly announcing: "It's a cake! I know! Thank you! Thank you very, very much." Then she whispers to Aunt Freida "There's a hole in this cake!"
A couple months ago, Mom had come up to visit to help me ready the girl's room, and in the midst of her visit, we inevitably went garage sale-ing. It's what we do.
At one of our stops I found a bundt pan. Grandma and our friend Nancy always turned out delicious bundt cakes, so after reasoning I had cabinet space for such a device, I joined the ranks of bundt-cake-making-ladies. (Say THAT 3 times fast!)
Not ever having made a bundt cake before, I did what any modern housewife does with most anything...I Googled it. "How to make a bundt cake." As with anything, there were a plethora of posts, opinions and ways to make this kind of cake, but I believe I've now figured out my own style.
Our church has a potluck after service every Sunday so when it came time to prepare something to take, my decision was obvious. BUNDT CAKE, BABY! I mixed up my ingredients and it seemed to be such a hit dessert at lunch that I made one the following week...and the week after that. I made different flavors each time, but started getting teased a bit for my predictability. ;) Last night our pastor's family hosted a party at their home and not having done any baking in the last month I knew exactly what I wanted to take. We arrived after everyone had eaten, but it still didn't take long for the belated cake to disappear.
Since I am such a generous person I'll share my secret to a delicious chocolate bundt cake. First you have to harvest cocoa beans at exactly 75* and slow roast them for 2 hours before grinding them to add to your cake batter. Next, you gather the wheat from your local wheat field. You must be wearing wheat gathering clothing or else it doesn't count for your Proverbs 31 woman medal at the end of all this. Once this is done...
Okay. I can't keep this up any longer.
So really, all I do is throw together a chocolate cake batter in with a box of instant chocolate pudding and a generous handful of chocolate chips, pour it in my lovely greased bundt pan, and bake it for 45ish minutes. When the cake is cooled I run a non-stick spatula around the edges to separate the cake and plop it on my cake plate. For the icing I mix together 1/2 a stick of softened butter, 2 tablespoons of chocolate powder, a few tablespoons of powdered sugar and a teaspoon or two of water. Whip this together until it's smooth and drizzle it over the top. That's it. It's so easy and so incredibly delicious that I'm almost embarrassed that I didn't harvest the cocoa beans at 75*.
A couple months ago, Mom had come up to visit to help me ready the girl's room, and in the midst of her visit, we inevitably went garage sale-ing. It's what we do.
At one of our stops I found a bundt pan. Grandma and our friend Nancy always turned out delicious bundt cakes, so after reasoning I had cabinet space for such a device, I joined the ranks of bundt-cake-making-ladies. (Say THAT 3 times fast!)
Not ever having made a bundt cake before, I did what any modern housewife does with most anything...I Googled it. "How to make a bundt cake." As with anything, there were a plethora of posts, opinions and ways to make this kind of cake, but I believe I've now figured out my own style.
Our church has a potluck after service every Sunday so when it came time to prepare something to take, my decision was obvious. BUNDT CAKE, BABY! I mixed up my ingredients and it seemed to be such a hit dessert at lunch that I made one the following week...and the week after that. I made different flavors each time, but started getting teased a bit for my predictability. ;) Last night our pastor's family hosted a party at their home and not having done any baking in the last month I knew exactly what I wanted to take. We arrived after everyone had eaten, but it still didn't take long for the belated cake to disappear.
Since I am such a generous person I'll share my secret to a delicious chocolate bundt cake. First you have to harvest cocoa beans at exactly 75* and slow roast them for 2 hours before grinding them to add to your cake batter. Next, you gather the wheat from your local wheat field. You must be wearing wheat gathering clothing or else it doesn't count for your Proverbs 31 woman medal at the end of all this. Once this is done...
Okay. I can't keep this up any longer.
So really, all I do is throw together a chocolate cake batter in with a box of instant chocolate pudding and a generous handful of chocolate chips, pour it in my lovely greased bundt pan, and bake it for 45ish minutes. When the cake is cooled I run a non-stick spatula around the edges to separate the cake and plop it on my cake plate. For the icing I mix together 1/2 a stick of softened butter, 2 tablespoons of chocolate powder, a few tablespoons of powdered sugar and a teaspoon or two of water. Whip this together until it's smooth and drizzle it over the top. That's it. It's so easy and so incredibly delicious that I'm almost embarrassed that I didn't harvest the cocoa beans at 75*.
Tragedy
Strains of the Bee Gee's song "Tragedy" are playing in the background as I type this blog entry. It's rather appropriate.
Yesterday, in the midst of a visit from a dear friend, Andrew entered the house looking a bit sad. He announced to us that he'd found the skunk. He exited through the back door only to return a few moments later looking even more sad. Upon closer inspection, he discovered that it wasn't the skunk he'd found...but it's offspring. Yes, the Sir was really a Sally, and sadly, it was in the process of increasing the skunk population when last week's battle occurred. This knowledge might explain Sally's insistence and determination to return to her home after it had been flooded. What in the beginning was a sort of exciting attempt to encourage a skunk to move on has become a tragic tale of a brave mother skunk trying to raise her offspring in a rural town in Texas. (Can you tell I'm having a bit of fun with alliteration? Okay. Just checking.)
Poor skunk!
Poor offspring!
Poor Andrew!
I think finding the little skunk was a bit of a Boo Radley moment for Andrew. Sally wasn't an evil boy skunk with devious plans to spray and attack his wife and child on their way to the garden, but a Mommy skunk just trying to find a place to have her little ones.
When my family lived on land there were countless times we'd find stray animals dropped off on our property. We couldn't keep all of them, so if the pound wouldn't take them, Dad had to deal with it. I recall a time when someone dropped off a pit bull. The pound absolutely refused to take it, and with no one else wanting such a dog, Dad had to shoot it. Dad didn't get any enjoyment out of doing such a thing, but that kind of a dog wasn't safe to have around his family, so he did what he had to. Though I knew pits were typically dangerous and was scared of the animal, I begged Dad to tell me when he'd buried it so I could shed a few tears and lay flowers on it's grave. It hadn't hurt any of us, but it could have. The risk was too great, so it had to go one way or another. That was one of the many moments I learned that life on "the farm" isn't always pretty or easy. Sometimes you have to do difficult things to protect your family or property. Andrew did what he needed to. RIP Sally Skunk.
Yesterday, in the midst of a visit from a dear friend, Andrew entered the house looking a bit sad. He announced to us that he'd found the skunk. He exited through the back door only to return a few moments later looking even more sad. Upon closer inspection, he discovered that it wasn't the skunk he'd found...but it's offspring. Yes, the Sir was really a Sally, and sadly, it was in the process of increasing the skunk population when last week's battle occurred. This knowledge might explain Sally's insistence and determination to return to her home after it had been flooded. What in the beginning was a sort of exciting attempt to encourage a skunk to move on has become a tragic tale of a brave mother skunk trying to raise her offspring in a rural town in Texas. (Can you tell I'm having a bit of fun with alliteration? Okay. Just checking.)
Poor skunk!
Poor offspring!
Poor Andrew!
I think finding the little skunk was a bit of a Boo Radley moment for Andrew. Sally wasn't an evil boy skunk with devious plans to spray and attack his wife and child on their way to the garden, but a Mommy skunk just trying to find a place to have her little ones.
When my family lived on land there were countless times we'd find stray animals dropped off on our property. We couldn't keep all of them, so if the pound wouldn't take them, Dad had to deal with it. I recall a time when someone dropped off a pit bull. The pound absolutely refused to take it, and with no one else wanting such a dog, Dad had to shoot it. Dad didn't get any enjoyment out of doing such a thing, but that kind of a dog wasn't safe to have around his family, so he did what he had to. Though I knew pits were typically dangerous and was scared of the animal, I begged Dad to tell me when he'd buried it so I could shed a few tears and lay flowers on it's grave. It hadn't hurt any of us, but it could have. The risk was too great, so it had to go one way or another. That was one of the many moments I learned that life on "the farm" isn't always pretty or easy. Sometimes you have to do difficult things to protect your family or property. Andrew did what he needed to. RIP Sally Skunk.
June 9, 2011
Warshing Soap
Last year my Mom showed me and my friend Abbey how to make our own laundry detergent. Mom got it from her friend Claudia who got it from her daughter, my friend Ruth...so in my book, it's like the Amish Friendship Bread of laundry soap. Compared to the cost of regular detergent, it saves a boat load of money. It's also pretty simple to make, doesn't contain any weird chemicals, dyes, or fragrances that many of us are sensitive to. I'm especially glad to use this now that we have a little one with sensitive skin. There are numerous recipes on the internet, and it can be made many different ways, but below is the form that turns up in the Borne's washing machine.
Ingredients:
1 cup Borax powder
1 cup Arm & Hammer Washing Soda
1 bar of Ivory soap
Tools needed:
1 large mixing bowl
1 grater
1 cup dry measuring cup
1 whisking utensil or blender
Grate the Ivory soap into the large mixing bowl and pour in the cup of Borax and cup of Washing Soda. You can pour this mixture into a blender to chop into a fine powder, or use a whisk to break and blend together. I made up a quick double batch this afternoon and saved clean up time by pouring the powders & grating the soap straight into my soap container. It was start to finish within 10 minutes. Because it's an effective, concentrated kind of laundry powder, I only use about an eighth of a cup for a normal sized load of laundry. If there are clothes with some tougher stains coming down the line, I'll add a bit of oxy-clean, but otherwise this does a great job of cleaning.
*Note: This mix won't suds like a typical detergent, nor will it have an overpowering smell, so don't be tempted to keep pouring until you see sudsy bubbles or smell artificial flowers from the peaks of a thousand hill tops.
Ingredients:
1 cup Borax powder
1 cup Arm & Hammer Washing Soda
1 bar of Ivory soap
Tools needed:
1 large mixing bowl
1 grater
1 cup dry measuring cup
1 whisking utensil or blender
Grate the Ivory soap into the large mixing bowl and pour in the cup of Borax and cup of Washing Soda. You can pour this mixture into a blender to chop into a fine powder, or use a whisk to break and blend together. I made up a quick double batch this afternoon and saved clean up time by pouring the powders & grating the soap straight into my soap container. It was start to finish within 10 minutes. Because it's an effective, concentrated kind of laundry powder, I only use about an eighth of a cup for a normal sized load of laundry. If there are clothes with some tougher stains coming down the line, I'll add a bit of oxy-clean, but otherwise this does a great job of cleaning.
*Note: This mix won't suds like a typical detergent, nor will it have an overpowering smell, so don't be tempted to keep pouring until you see sudsy bubbles or smell artificial flowers from the peaks of a thousand hill tops.
Trouble in Paradise
I know I've mentioned the friendly little skunk that decided to move from our neighbor's house to under our outbuilding. After about a week, seeing a burrowed dirt mound and catching whiffs of skunk was getting on Andrew's nerves, so he and a friend covered up the hole with a slab of concrete. The next morning we found a freshly burrowed hole right next to the previous entrance. Grr. Andrew took the shovel and filled THAT hole in only for it to be re-excavated the next day. How defeating, right?
Things came to a climax this weekend. Andrew had had enough. My folks were here over the weekend so Dad and lil sis joined Andrew in on the battle. They threw the garden hose down the skunk hole and flushed him out. The skunk emerged (I'm told) looking like a wet cat and made a dash for the space under Andrew's shop. A series of events involving squirts of skunk spray and several plinks with a pellet gun led to Mr. Skunk high tailing it for another neighbor's yard. There are of course a few details I will refrain from disclosing for the benefit of the P.E.T.A (the People for the Eating of Tasty Animals).
With the skunk having moved on to happier hunting ground, we thought our worries were over...until the other morning.
Andrew heard it first. Then Mom and I heard it. Thinking it was the baby making a noise, we checked on her to find she was asleep. A few moments later we heard it again, this time more distinctly which led me to look out the back window to discover the source. Friends, imagine my confusion when I looked out to see that Ethel (of the Red and Ethel pair of hens) was crowing. We're talking an "URRRRRR-ur-URRRRR-ur-URRRRRRRRRRR!!!" that could rival Mary Martin's rendition of "I Wanna Crow" in the original stage play of Peter Pan.
Andrew had seen Goldilocks crowing the day or two before, but now Ethel was at it, too! After a bit of research on the ole Googlizer, we're left with the knowledge that we may have two very dominant hens that are crowing in the absence of a rooster, OR...Goldilocks and Ethel are dudes. I sincerely hope it's not the latter, or else I may need to stock up on a few recipes regarding winner-winner-chicken-dinner. :-P I'll letcha know how it goes.
Who dun it?
Things came to a climax this weekend. Andrew had had enough. My folks were here over the weekend so Dad and lil sis joined Andrew in on the battle. They threw the garden hose down the skunk hole and flushed him out. The skunk emerged (I'm told) looking like a wet cat and made a dash for the space under Andrew's shop. A series of events involving squirts of skunk spray and several plinks with a pellet gun led to Mr. Skunk high tailing it for another neighbor's yard. There are of course a few details I will refrain from disclosing for the benefit of the P.E.T.A (the People for the Eating of Tasty Animals).
With the skunk having moved on to happier hunting ground, we thought our worries were over...until the other morning.
Andrew heard it first. Then Mom and I heard it. Thinking it was the baby making a noise, we checked on her to find she was asleep. A few moments later we heard it again, this time more distinctly which led me to look out the back window to discover the source. Friends, imagine my confusion when I looked out to see that Ethel (of the Red and Ethel pair of hens) was crowing. We're talking an "URRRRRR-ur-URRRRR-ur-URRRRRRRRRRR!!!" that could rival Mary Martin's rendition of "I Wanna Crow" in the original stage play of Peter Pan.
Andrew had seen Goldilocks crowing the day or two before, but now Ethel was at it, too! After a bit of research on the ole Googlizer, we're left with the knowledge that we may have two very dominant hens that are crowing in the absence of a rooster, OR...Goldilocks and Ethel are dudes. I sincerely hope it's not the latter, or else I may need to stock up on a few recipes regarding winner-winner-chicken-dinner. :-P I'll letcha know how it goes.
Who dun it?
June 7, 2011
Best laid plans
Yesterday was my birthday. The older I get, the more I realize how very little I know. I should know by now that plans are extremely subject to change and that instead of keeping a calendar, it's probably just best to buckle up and hang on. *Sometimes shutting up might not hurt either b/c I have rather large feet that are hard to get out of my mouth. ;)
I laugh to think of where I was just a year ago. I'll spare you the details but here's what the year included:
A trip with my Dad to London over Spring Break, Andrew proposing(!), finishing up teaching, Andrew completing his degree (WHOOP!), my quarter-century b'day, getting married, honeymooning in Cancun, Andrew job searching, getting pregnant, Andrew getting a job, our living out of our suitcases for a several months before moving to a town neither of us had ever been to before, being in a apartment before finding a house, moving into the house and finally getting all of our stuff out of storage (after 6 months!), finding a church and a doctor, getting settled...and in the early summer, having a baby!
I was talking to my Grandma on the phone yesterday about what a year it's been. She said she's convinced that only young people can handle so many changes, because it would send an older person over the edge. She laughed as I agreed but assured her that I'm pretty sure I saw the edge a few times. :-p
It almost feels cliche' to say that "the Lord is faithful", but after such a year, I feel and know this truth deeply. God has been so gracious to me and my husband in this last year and while I may not want to relive that seemingly extreme amount of change ever again, I will look back on it, knowing the Lord carried us through. He truly is faithful and I pray that we are more Christ-like people for having been given the grace to walk through such an eventful time in life.
Though grateful for what has transpired in such a short amount of time, my prayers have been something along these lines: "Lord, thank you for everything You've done in our lives this past year...could we please maintain where we are for a little while?
I laugh to think of where I was just a year ago. I'll spare you the details but here's what the year included:
A trip with my Dad to London over Spring Break, Andrew proposing(!), finishing up teaching, Andrew completing his degree (WHOOP!), my quarter-century b'day, getting married, honeymooning in Cancun, Andrew job searching, getting pregnant, Andrew getting a job, our living out of our suitcases for a several months before moving to a town neither of us had ever been to before, being in a apartment before finding a house, moving into the house and finally getting all of our stuff out of storage (after 6 months!), finding a church and a doctor, getting settled...and in the early summer, having a baby!
I was talking to my Grandma on the phone yesterday about what a year it's been. She said she's convinced that only young people can handle so many changes, because it would send an older person over the edge. She laughed as I agreed but assured her that I'm pretty sure I saw the edge a few times. :-p
It almost feels cliche' to say that "the Lord is faithful", but after such a year, I feel and know this truth deeply. God has been so gracious to me and my husband in this last year and while I may not want to relive that seemingly extreme amount of change ever again, I will look back on it, knowing the Lord carried us through. He truly is faithful and I pray that we are more Christ-like people for having been given the grace to walk through such an eventful time in life.
Though grateful for what has transpired in such a short amount of time, my prayers have been something along these lines: "Lord, thank you for everything You've done in our lives this past year...could we please maintain where we are for a little while?
June 2, 2011
Eww, Mom!
It's happened. I am THAT Mom. Do I need to confess, or is this just a naturally progressing thing that happens to new Moms? Since I'm shocking myself a bit, I'll got ahead with this as a confession...
I pick Olivia's little boogers. Gimme a break. I can't help it if I want my daughter to have unobstructed breathing use out of her nose!
I wipe the crusties out of her eyes (product of a clogged tear duct) at random and it would appear that she's already agitated by this fact. Who wants eye crusties?
I have begun using my clothes as an excess milk-catcher, snot collector, and general purpose burp cloth. Okay, so it's not like I have much of a choice, but perhaps I should invest in more Oxy-clean? Humm.
Now for my big confession:
I...I...I...licked my daughter's forehead.
Umm, this one requires a bit of explanation. I already do a teensy bit of saliva induced hair-control, but this one is note worthy.
Since we've been on a restricted diet to get rid of the thrush (what I loving refer to as the yeastie-beasties), I have been indulging in a small handful of raisins, raw almonds and chocolate chips to make things seem not so bleak. The other day I was snuggling with my girl and enjoying my snack at the same time. When she woke up for me to feed her, I was alarmed to see something dark smeared on her forehead. It wasn't any color of poo I'd seen so far, no less in such an obscure location. Upon closer inspection I discovered that one of the chocolate chips tried to make a get-away and melted a trace footprint before managing a full escape onto the floor.
With the burp cloth just out of reach, my maternal instincts kicked in and declared that the obvious thing to do was to lick the chocolate off of my child's head. I gave a lick before the socially-acceptable voice inside me yelled in a horrified voice: "This is weird. You look weird! You are LICKING YOUR BABY'S HEAD!" With only a smudge left, I ignored the voice and finished my clean up work. While I don't plan to make a habit of this, I do think I will be a bit more careful not to be so messy. AND if a similar situation occurs in public, that it would probably be best to reach for a wipe instead. ;)
Many years ago at a family reunion in Kansas, I recall my baby cousin getting attacked by ants and having them washed off with a nearby water hose. As soon as the ants were gone, my Aunt gathered up her baby and immediately began drying her off with her shirt. It seemed odd to me that my Aunt didn't think twice about trying to keep her shirt clean. As a new Mommy, I'm starting to understand that we'll do just about anything (and then some) for our babies. Even lick chocolate off their head.
I pick Olivia's little boogers. Gimme a break. I can't help it if I want my daughter to have unobstructed breathing use out of her nose!
I wipe the crusties out of her eyes (product of a clogged tear duct) at random and it would appear that she's already agitated by this fact. Who wants eye crusties?
I have begun using my clothes as an excess milk-catcher, snot collector, and general purpose burp cloth. Okay, so it's not like I have much of a choice, but perhaps I should invest in more Oxy-clean? Humm.
Now for my big confession:
I...I...I...licked my daughter's forehead.
Umm, this one requires a bit of explanation. I already do a teensy bit of saliva induced hair-control, but this one is note worthy.
Since we've been on a restricted diet to get rid of the thrush (what I loving refer to as the yeastie-beasties), I have been indulging in a small handful of raisins, raw almonds and chocolate chips to make things seem not so bleak. The other day I was snuggling with my girl and enjoying my snack at the same time. When she woke up for me to feed her, I was alarmed to see something dark smeared on her forehead. It wasn't any color of poo I'd seen so far, no less in such an obscure location. Upon closer inspection I discovered that one of the chocolate chips tried to make a get-away and melted a trace footprint before managing a full escape onto the floor.
With the burp cloth just out of reach, my maternal instincts kicked in and declared that the obvious thing to do was to lick the chocolate off of my child's head. I gave a lick before the socially-acceptable voice inside me yelled in a horrified voice: "This is weird. You look weird! You are LICKING YOUR BABY'S HEAD!" With only a smudge left, I ignored the voice and finished my clean up work. While I don't plan to make a habit of this, I do think I will be a bit more careful not to be so messy. AND if a similar situation occurs in public, that it would probably be best to reach for a wipe instead. ;)
Many years ago at a family reunion in Kansas, I recall my baby cousin getting attacked by ants and having them washed off with a nearby water hose. As soon as the ants were gone, my Aunt gathered up her baby and immediately began drying her off with her shirt. It seemed odd to me that my Aunt didn't think twice about trying to keep her shirt clean. As a new Mommy, I'm starting to understand that we'll do just about anything (and then some) for our babies. Even lick chocolate off their head.
June 1, 2011
By the Sweat of Your Brow
Outside of the sweet baby bubble...things are going and growing well in the backyard.
While I've been inside tending to our little chick, Andrew has done an incredible job being a new Dad, on top of maintaining his title of Chicken Wrangler and Green-Thumbed Gardener. He's been really attentive to keeping things watered, fed and weeded.
The chickens are big and though they seems to have thinned out a little with the onset of early summer heat, you can definitely tell they've matured. Their legs and feet have gotten really thick, their feathers are fully grown, and their waddles are red and well, waddly. They are still well practiced beggars and on several occasions I'm sure they've wondered if that thing I'm carrying in the pouch is a treat for them.
Thanks to my hubby's hard work, the garden is thriving. He's turned into somewhat of a mad scientist with our "farming" ventures. He's currently growing a batch of grubby worms to feed to the chickens for protein, and has given the garden a few loving sprays of 100% Beet Sugar Extract (Shrute beets of course). He fertilized for the first time just a day or so before some good rains came in, so from my perspective the garden had doubled in size within just a few days.
So far our highest producer has been ****drumroll please***....the yellow squash plants! I can't say I wasn't warned that they'd kick out more than we could consume, but we've had some fun with harvesting our veggies. A few days ago I went out to find Andrew in the garden after a long day of work. He had a strange bulky looking object sticking out of his back pocket. It was the bottle of garlic salt from our spice rack! When I asked him why in the world it was there, he whipped out his pocket knife, cut a ripe yellow squash, sliced a piece for each of us and sprinkled it with the garlic salt! I've gotta say, it was delicious. We've also picked a couple zucchini, an okra (yes, just one), 2 jalepeno peppers, and a good handful of beans.
On the harvesting horizon are a plethora of tomatoes, a fat cucumber, and several good looking ears of corn. Andrew loves corn. With a passion. So, despite the fact that there are about 8 healthy ears of corn popping up, he has continued to mourn the fact that he didn't plant more. Like a whole field of it. I'm not even joking. You simply cannot fathom how much this man loves corn. The other day he asked if we could have a dinner entirely comprised of corn. Not to put a wet blanket on his hopes, I might make a few other things that aren't so umm, well...starchy. lol
Though I was the one to start a few seedlings in the beginning, Andrew has done a fantastic job as the "laborer of the soil", fulfilling his Biblical role in toiling the ground. I am so proud of my farmer-man and it's SO much fun to begin harvesting some of our produce!
"Beans, beans, the magical fruit..."
While I've been inside tending to our little chick, Andrew has done an incredible job being a new Dad, on top of maintaining his title of Chicken Wrangler and Green-Thumbed Gardener. He's been really attentive to keeping things watered, fed and weeded.
The chickens are big and though they seems to have thinned out a little with the onset of early summer heat, you can definitely tell they've matured. Their legs and feet have gotten really thick, their feathers are fully grown, and their waddles are red and well, waddly. They are still well practiced beggars and on several occasions I'm sure they've wondered if that thing I'm carrying in the pouch is a treat for them.
Thanks to my hubby's hard work, the garden is thriving. He's turned into somewhat of a mad scientist with our "farming" ventures. He's currently growing a batch of grubby worms to feed to the chickens for protein, and has given the garden a few loving sprays of 100% Beet Sugar Extract (Shrute beets of course). He fertilized for the first time just a day or so before some good rains came in, so from my perspective the garden had doubled in size within just a few days.
So far our highest producer has been ****drumroll please***....the yellow squash plants! I can't say I wasn't warned that they'd kick out more than we could consume, but we've had some fun with harvesting our veggies. A few days ago I went out to find Andrew in the garden after a long day of work. He had a strange bulky looking object sticking out of his back pocket. It was the bottle of garlic salt from our spice rack! When I asked him why in the world it was there, he whipped out his pocket knife, cut a ripe yellow squash, sliced a piece for each of us and sprinkled it with the garlic salt! I've gotta say, it was delicious. We've also picked a couple zucchini, an okra (yes, just one), 2 jalepeno peppers, and a good handful of beans.
On the harvesting horizon are a plethora of tomatoes, a fat cucumber, and several good looking ears of corn. Andrew loves corn. With a passion. So, despite the fact that there are about 8 healthy ears of corn popping up, he has continued to mourn the fact that he didn't plant more. Like a whole field of it. I'm not even joking. You simply cannot fathom how much this man loves corn. The other day he asked if we could have a dinner entirely comprised of corn. Not to put a wet blanket on his hopes, I might make a few other things that aren't so umm, well...starchy. lol
Though I was the one to start a few seedlings in the beginning, Andrew has done a fantastic job as the "laborer of the soil", fulfilling his Biblical role in toiling the ground. I am so proud of my farmer-man and it's SO much fun to begin harvesting some of our produce!
"Beans, beans, the magical fruit..."
May 28, 2011
Things I've learned so far...
- Up to this point in my life, motherhood has been THE most humbling experience I've ever lived through. In the (rare) event that I don't survive, motherhood was the most humbling experience of my life. The end.
- I didn't realize how much I valued things like uninterrupted sleep, having alone time with my husband, or even using the bathroom by myself. *Side note: Attempting to have a bowel movement with a screaming infant in the room is practically impossible. Yeah, I just had to get that out there. Haha.
- Thrush is a pesky little thing that can send a new Mom spiraling into Crazy Land. If left untreated, thrush can develop into a raging yeast infection, breast infection, provide lots of pain for Mom and baby during nursing, and make life generally miserable. Fortunately for us, a load of herbs and other voo-doo-hoo-doo remedies have been working to get us to normal. Whatever normal is.
- Babies eat a lot. They also sleep a lot. You have to find joy in things like: "Aww, she looks so peaceful when she's sleeping.", or "Yay, it may be 3:30 in the morning, but I'm so glad she's eating well!", to get you through the first few days/weeks.
- Having a couch that I'm not too attached to is a blessing...it's been extremely blessed with unpredictable episodes of milk showers.
- Wearing make-up is a luxury. When given the choice between putting on some mascara or brushing one's teeth, hygiene wins. Sleep also trumps a shower. You've been spit up on so many times anyway that a shower seems futile at this point.
***My latest favorite***
- You no longer care if the cute teenage guy at the drugstore counter sees that all you have in your basket is a big bottle of stool softener and a tube of hemorrhoid cream. You're a Mom. You are sleep deprived. You are constipated. And yes, you even have hemorrhoids. You're doing well if your clothes aren't covered in barf. Life may be beautiful and glamorous again one day, but today is not that day. You hand him the cash to buy your goodies, look him straight in the eye and smile as he says to you "Have a nice day.", despite the fact he knows you're dealing with stuff his Grandma complains about.
Finally:
- Ailments and aches will go away and sleep will eventually return, but babies aren't little for long, so holding one is a temporary gift. Enjoy it while you can! I know I am!
- I didn't realize how much I valued things like uninterrupted sleep, having alone time with my husband, or even using the bathroom by myself. *Side note: Attempting to have a bowel movement with a screaming infant in the room is practically impossible. Yeah, I just had to get that out there. Haha.
- Thrush is a pesky little thing that can send a new Mom spiraling into Crazy Land. If left untreated, thrush can develop into a raging yeast infection, breast infection, provide lots of pain for Mom and baby during nursing, and make life generally miserable. Fortunately for us, a load of herbs and other voo-doo-hoo-doo remedies have been working to get us to normal. Whatever normal is.
- Babies eat a lot. They also sleep a lot. You have to find joy in things like: "Aww, she looks so peaceful when she's sleeping.", or "Yay, it may be 3:30 in the morning, but I'm so glad she's eating well!", to get you through the first few days/weeks.
- Having a couch that I'm not too attached to is a blessing...it's been extremely blessed with unpredictable episodes of milk showers.
- Wearing make-up is a luxury. When given the choice between putting on some mascara or brushing one's teeth, hygiene wins. Sleep also trumps a shower. You've been spit up on so many times anyway that a shower seems futile at this point.
***My latest favorite***
- You no longer care if the cute teenage guy at the drugstore counter sees that all you have in your basket is a big bottle of stool softener and a tube of hemorrhoid cream. You're a Mom. You are sleep deprived. You are constipated. And yes, you even have hemorrhoids. You're doing well if your clothes aren't covered in barf. Life may be beautiful and glamorous again one day, but today is not that day. You hand him the cash to buy your goodies, look him straight in the eye and smile as he says to you "Have a nice day.", despite the fact he knows you're dealing with stuff his Grandma complains about.
Finally:
- Ailments and aches will go away and sleep will eventually return, but babies aren't little for long, so holding one is a temporary gift. Enjoy it while you can! I know I am!
May 23, 2011
Ess-cap-e
Because of unique and unforeseen circumstances, today was the first time I got out of the house since Olivia was born(e). In case you need help counting, that means that I have been home for TWO WEEKS. IN A ROW! Yes, it's a scary truth. And yes, I am the same gal that got house rot after 3 days of being snowed in this winter. :-p
I think this fact is due in part to my having trouble asking for help, and not being sure of what I'm capable of post-baby. My doula (and now dear friend!) was scheduled to come check on us today and after our visit, she sweetly took Olivia in her arms, and told me to get in my car and take off of a while.
It was amazing.
I got to drive my car. I listened to 80's rock music on the radio. LOUDLY. I even called my husband when I reached Main Street to tell him, well, that I, his wife, was on Main Street, by myself! We both laughed. I got to go to WalMart and buy a few groceries. I got to look at people. I got to stand and ponder life as I waited for the lady at the deli counter to slice my turkey. When I realized that this was my very first shopping trip to be completely by myself for the first time in about 10 months, I decided to buy some wine.
I was only gone for about an hour, but when I got home, I was a happier Mommy for having had some alone time. I was also really happy to see my little punkin and appreciate her more having looked at other things for a little while. I was reminded that life goes on and that things will find a new normal.
Tomorrow I am planning our first outing together. It's only to go to the health food store a few miles down the road, but it's a start. A start to us getting out, and to getting back into the swing of things.
God is great. Life is good.
I think this fact is due in part to my having trouble asking for help, and not being sure of what I'm capable of post-baby. My doula (and now dear friend!) was scheduled to come check on us today and after our visit, she sweetly took Olivia in her arms, and told me to get in my car and take off of a while.
It was amazing.
I got to drive my car. I listened to 80's rock music on the radio. LOUDLY. I even called my husband when I reached Main Street to tell him, well, that I, his wife, was on Main Street, by myself! We both laughed. I got to go to WalMart and buy a few groceries. I got to look at people. I got to stand and ponder life as I waited for the lady at the deli counter to slice my turkey. When I realized that this was my very first shopping trip to be completely by myself for the first time in about 10 months, I decided to buy some wine.
I was only gone for about an hour, but when I got home, I was a happier Mommy for having had some alone time. I was also really happy to see my little punkin and appreciate her more having looked at other things for a little while. I was reminded that life goes on and that things will find a new normal.
Tomorrow I am planning our first outing together. It's only to go to the health food store a few miles down the road, but it's a start. A start to us getting out, and to getting back into the swing of things.
God is great. Life is good.
May 19, 2011
Things that begin with "S"
Service:
~ Family and friends who have given and offered their help to us, be it physical, spiritual, or emotional support. God has shown His love through the Body of Christ.
~ All of the people who have brought and are bringing us dinner have been such a sweet blessing to our new little family. It's an enormous relief to know that I don't have to try and juggle preparing something in the midst of my continued recovery and caring for a newborn(e).
~ My darling husband being there for me while I've labored, rejoiced, cried, or been delusional from a lack of sleep/new-Mommyhood has been a wall I can lean on.
Smiles:
~ I'm convinced. Olivia is smiling. Her smiles come at the appropriate times for one to smile. Such as when Andrew or I make up a silly song, or today when I was talking to a friend and cradling her close, she looked most intently at my face and gave the most beautiful grin and kept on grinning! The tiredness I have felt getting up every 3 hours to feed her became worth it all over again.
~ Seeing my incredibly good looking husband caring for our girl makes my heart smile. Okay, so I smile on the outside, too. :) Andrew is all over this new Daddy stuff and it's SO much fun watching him with Olivia. His role as a Dad makes my love for him as my husband grow even deeper. And it's only been 10 days!
Seriously?!:
~ My folks got a Mac. While I am so proud that they're keeping up with more modern (cough...and superior) technology, it cracks me up to see them transition from being PC users. Andrew was extremely patient w/ Mom last week and gave her a crash course tutorial on how to use the new computer. I giggled from the other room hearing their long dialogue over how to use the touch pad. Parents, if you're reading this...I love you!
~ After my great excitement over the painted bunting, all we have devouring seed at the feeders are those hideous sparrows and pesky blue jays. Phooey. GO AWAY.
Skunk: Remember my post a while back about our neighbor having a Pepe' Le Phew live under his house? Yeah, that one. Well, yesterday Andrew took me around to the side of our storage building and pointed out a rather disturbing sight: A freshly burrowed cave under the storage building slab. It's identical to the one the neighbor had under his house. Grrrrreat. Anyone know how to get rid of a skunk in a non-smelly fashion???
Scissors:
My split ends got the better of me today. I found the scissors and went at it. Fear not, I only shortened what I previously had. It's really nice to have that fresh cut, healthy hair feel.
Well, time to get a move on. So long for now!
~ Family and friends who have given and offered their help to us, be it physical, spiritual, or emotional support. God has shown His love through the Body of Christ.
~ All of the people who have brought and are bringing us dinner have been such a sweet blessing to our new little family. It's an enormous relief to know that I don't have to try and juggle preparing something in the midst of my continued recovery and caring for a newborn(e).
~ My darling husband being there for me while I've labored, rejoiced, cried, or been delusional from a lack of sleep/new-Mommyhood has been a wall I can lean on.
Smiles:
~ I'm convinced. Olivia is smiling. Her smiles come at the appropriate times for one to smile. Such as when Andrew or I make up a silly song, or today when I was talking to a friend and cradling her close, she looked most intently at my face and gave the most beautiful grin and kept on grinning! The tiredness I have felt getting up every 3 hours to feed her became worth it all over again.
~ Seeing my incredibly good looking husband caring for our girl makes my heart smile. Okay, so I smile on the outside, too. :) Andrew is all over this new Daddy stuff and it's SO much fun watching him with Olivia. His role as a Dad makes my love for him as my husband grow even deeper. And it's only been 10 days!
Seriously?!:
~ My folks got a Mac. While I am so proud that they're keeping up with more modern (cough...and superior) technology, it cracks me up to see them transition from being PC users. Andrew was extremely patient w/ Mom last week and gave her a crash course tutorial on how to use the new computer. I giggled from the other room hearing their long dialogue over how to use the touch pad. Parents, if you're reading this...I love you!
~ After my great excitement over the painted bunting, all we have devouring seed at the feeders are those hideous sparrows and pesky blue jays. Phooey. GO AWAY.
Skunk: Remember my post a while back about our neighbor having a Pepe' Le Phew live under his house? Yeah, that one. Well, yesterday Andrew took me around to the side of our storage building and pointed out a rather disturbing sight: A freshly burrowed cave under the storage building slab. It's identical to the one the neighbor had under his house. Grrrrreat. Anyone know how to get rid of a skunk in a non-smelly fashion???
Scissors:
My split ends got the better of me today. I found the scissors and went at it. Fear not, I only shortened what I previously had. It's really nice to have that fresh cut, healthy hair feel.
Well, time to get a move on. So long for now!
May 16, 2011
Life so far...
Well, it was this time just last week that I was working through contractions and still able to talk in between. After about 1pm I shut down and went into another world. Literally. When hard labor began, I closed my eyes and didn't open them until Olivia arrived several hours later. The intensity was unreal, and yet, looking back on it today, the memory of the pain is already starting to fade and there is a little inkling of hope that I might consider doing this again someday. Might. I think. Maybe. Oh wait, there's a sweet face that beautiful combines the features of me and my husband. Humm...I'll get back to you on that.
My Mom has gone back home. **choke** I see it as providential timing that the day/week after Mother's Day, God would open my eyes afresh to value my Mom in a whole new way. There came a point in my life when Mom moved on from more of a parent into a friend. This past week, I was humbled to see that even at my age, I desperately needed my Mom. She was able to help in a uniquely maternal, been-here, done-that kind of way that I doubt anyone else could have provided. Don't get me wrong, my husband has been UHH-mazing through this whole process, but for some reason Mom made a better breast-feeding coach. ;) Yesterday we listened to a couple of J-Mac online sermons about being a slave for Christ. He pointed out how most of the Bible references to "servant" have been mistranslated and really mean "slave". The difference between being a servant and a slave has enormous implications. In many ways, Mom was our slave from last Monday through when she left Saturday afternoon. She made incredible meals, served me in bed when I couldn't get up, took Olivia when she was fussy in between feedings so I could get even an hour of sleep, had the laundry running almost non-stop, helped me with numerous new-Mommy issues, provided emotional support when tears came seemingly out of nowhere. I can't say enough about what she did and how deeply her loving servitude blessed me and my family. She got me back up on my feet and I hope someday that I can be as great a lifesaver to my kiddo(s).
Olivia. Where do I begin? She is beautiful, has a sweet nature about her, LOVES to eat, is working on getting her little clock set to ours, and is just precious. Two nights ago she didn't seem so precious when she was crying and we couldn't figure out why, but she has only her wails to express a multitude of whatever she could be experiencing. We're trying to be patient. I'm managing a new normal level of little sleep, but remaining pretty functional. Things could be SO much worse, so I/we are counting our blessings.
Perhaps I'm delusional, but forget whatever friends, statistics, or the Googlizer may tell you...I'm convinced that we've already seen a few smiles. You can tell me it's gas all day long, but I won't believe you. Our girl has grinned at us!
Well, I am going to sign off now. I'm kind of stuck in a funny place where I'm not allowed to do any house work (like I'm going to adhere to THAT for long!), but will go crazy if I can't do something, and anything I CAN do must be perfectly timed in between feedings. My Aunt told me a while back that regardless of how much time is spent nursing, burping, cleaning up after, and caring for a baby, time must be found for simply looking at one's baby. This whole gazing upon thing is extremely time consuming, but it feeds something inside of me I've been hungry for for a very long time. Before another minute passes, I'm going to go look at my baby girl.
My Mom has gone back home. **choke** I see it as providential timing that the day/week after Mother's Day, God would open my eyes afresh to value my Mom in a whole new way. There came a point in my life when Mom moved on from more of a parent into a friend. This past week, I was humbled to see that even at my age, I desperately needed my Mom. She was able to help in a uniquely maternal, been-here, done-that kind of way that I doubt anyone else could have provided. Don't get me wrong, my husband has been UHH-mazing through this whole process, but for some reason Mom made a better breast-feeding coach. ;) Yesterday we listened to a couple of J-Mac online sermons about being a slave for Christ. He pointed out how most of the Bible references to "servant" have been mistranslated and really mean "slave". The difference between being a servant and a slave has enormous implications. In many ways, Mom was our slave from last Monday through when she left Saturday afternoon. She made incredible meals, served me in bed when I couldn't get up, took Olivia when she was fussy in between feedings so I could get even an hour of sleep, had the laundry running almost non-stop, helped me with numerous new-Mommy issues, provided emotional support when tears came seemingly out of nowhere. I can't say enough about what she did and how deeply her loving servitude blessed me and my family. She got me back up on my feet and I hope someday that I can be as great a lifesaver to my kiddo(s).
Olivia. Where do I begin? She is beautiful, has a sweet nature about her, LOVES to eat, is working on getting her little clock set to ours, and is just precious. Two nights ago she didn't seem so precious when she was crying and we couldn't figure out why, but she has only her wails to express a multitude of whatever she could be experiencing. We're trying to be patient. I'm managing a new normal level of little sleep, but remaining pretty functional. Things could be SO much worse, so I/we are counting our blessings.
Perhaps I'm delusional, but forget whatever friends, statistics, or the Googlizer may tell you...I'm convinced that we've already seen a few smiles. You can tell me it's gas all day long, but I won't believe you. Our girl has grinned at us!
Well, I am going to sign off now. I'm kind of stuck in a funny place where I'm not allowed to do any house work (like I'm going to adhere to THAT for long!), but will go crazy if I can't do something, and anything I CAN do must be perfectly timed in between feedings. My Aunt told me a while back that regardless of how much time is spent nursing, burping, cleaning up after, and caring for a baby, time must be found for simply looking at one's baby. This whole gazing upon thing is extremely time consuming, but it feeds something inside of me I've been hungry for for a very long time. Before another minute passes, I'm going to go look at my baby girl.
May 11, 2011
Baby Olivia
Hello. I have a baby. She is beautiful. I am tired. I am elated. I am married to THE most incredible man in the WORLD, whom I am more in love with each second. We now are the proud parents of an incredible little miracle.
Labor started 4am Monday morning (on my Aunt's b'day, and Andrew's g'parents's anniversary). Hard labor set on at 1pm. Our baby girl, Olivia, was born at 5:42pm. God provided EXACTLY what we needed at the EXACT right time. We changed care providers on my due date last Tuesday - May 3rd, and Monday, May 9th, we we welcomed our precious baby into the world in a birthing tub in comfort of our own home. 14 hours of labor (2 of which were pushing!) w/ no medication other than the comfort of my wonderful husband, supportive doula and birthing team, and an incredibly loving Lord to see me through. Unmedicated childbirth isn't for everyone, or always an option, but for us, it was an unbelievably humbling and blessed experience.
I AM ALL THAT IS WOMAN. (hehe)
I don't really know how much sleep I've gotten in the past few hours...urr...days, but I DO know that we now have a gorgeous baby girl and she is so worth all the hard work and exhaustion.
I also know that a shower is a rather fantastic event to savor, and that doing something like writing a brief blog in between what seems near constant nursing and general exhaustion can help maintain one's sense of sanity after such a whirlwind of newness.
God is good and we have an 8 pound, 6 ounce miracle as proof of His love and faithfulness. We are humbled, extremely blessed and so very grateful.
P.S. Have I mentioned how beautiful my girl is?! And what an amazing husband I have?! AND that my Mom has made THE most incredible postpartum nurse anyone could ask for?!
Labor started 4am Monday morning (on my Aunt's b'day, and Andrew's g'parents's anniversary). Hard labor set on at 1pm. Our baby girl, Olivia, was born at 5:42pm. God provided EXACTLY what we needed at the EXACT right time. We changed care providers on my due date last Tuesday - May 3rd, and Monday, May 9th, we we welcomed our precious baby into the world in a birthing tub in comfort of our own home. 14 hours of labor (2 of which were pushing!) w/ no medication other than the comfort of my wonderful husband, supportive doula and birthing team, and an incredibly loving Lord to see me through. Unmedicated childbirth isn't for everyone, or always an option, but for us, it was an unbelievably humbling and blessed experience.
I AM ALL THAT IS WOMAN. (hehe)
I don't really know how much sleep I've gotten in the past few hours...urr...days, but I DO know that we now have a gorgeous baby girl and she is so worth all the hard work and exhaustion.
I also know that a shower is a rather fantastic event to savor, and that doing something like writing a brief blog in between what seems near constant nursing and general exhaustion can help maintain one's sense of sanity after such a whirlwind of newness.
God is good and we have an 8 pound, 6 ounce miracle as proof of His love and faithfulness. We are humbled, extremely blessed and so very grateful.
P.S. Have I mentioned how beautiful my girl is?! And what an amazing husband I have?! AND that my Mom has made THE most incredible postpartum nurse anyone could ask for?!
May 6, 2011
Herbs (Said with a Huhh)
Shortly after my honey bunches and I were married, a friend of mine recommended this (http://www.bulkherbstore.com/Herbs) website to me. When we got pregnant, I made a purchase of red raspberry leaves to make into tea. According to studies and testimonies, red raspberry tea has incredible properties that tone the uterus, help with labor, nursing and do a host of other amazing things. I've been making and drinking about 2 quarts of the nectar every day for the past month and have had to order more. The cost of the herb(s) in bulk compared to what I would be paying for (in the same quantity) in a pretty little box is astronomically cheaper. With the thought "this is SO much cheaper" in my head, I couldn't help adding a few other herbs into my shopping cart before I finally checked out. After reading some of the incredible medicinal properties of the herbs, I pictured myself in the kitchen with my tea pot playing mad scientist, mixing up delicious and healing teas.
Maybe my order will make it in before baby comes so I can mix up a few teas...but I'll be okay if it doesn't. :)
Maybe my order will make it in before baby comes so I can mix up a few teas...but I'll be okay if it doesn't. :)
May 5, 2011
Shameless nesting
So far today I've made 2 quarts of red raspberry tea, moved a bunch of stuff into an outbuilding, hung a few pictures, cleaned out the fridge, fed the chickens a snack, watered the garden, scrubbed the bathroom floor, done several loads of laundry, composted, fixed a towel rack on the bathroom wall, and swept, dusted and vacuumed the whole house. I think the only thing I might have taken to an extreme was wiping down the ceilings and walls.
***phew***
I am SO excited about having this kiddo show up and want everything to be clean whenever she arrives! I'm also anticipating a WONDERFUL night's sleep. :)
***phew***
I am SO excited about having this kiddo show up and want everything to be clean whenever she arrives! I'm also anticipating a WONDERFUL night's sleep. :)
May 3, 2011
Of Sparrows and Buntings
When I was growing up, my Grandpa would point out birds that would come to his feeders and tell me about them. As far as I know, Grandpa has always been an avid student and lover of birds. It's always been fun to watch him because as soon as he steps outside, you can tell his ears are perked for whatever chirps or tunes may come floating through the air. Because he grew up on a farm in Kansas where life was rough and there was little room for unnecessary sentimentality, Grandpa has never had any qualms about telling how it is. So, regarding birds, his shared knowledge is what I've had implanted into my head from a young age.
I learned that sparrows, grackles, starlings, blue jays and other birds like these are junk birds. They really have no other purpose in life but to make havoc and destroy things. These are "bad", messy, mean birds that will rip out the nests of good birds and might as well be shot.
A bird that has a sweet tune is a monogamous bird that will remain faithful to it's mate until it dies. These "good" birds are usually colorful, are not far from their mate, are good parents to their young, and should be protected. One of Grandpa's favorites are bluebirds, which he builds houses for and keeps watch over as they nest and raise their young.
Something else you should know about my Grandpa is that he is a teller of stories. I have on countless occasions sat laughing over a bowl of popcorn at the dinner table late into the evening as he retold crazy encounters he'd had during his time as a mobile home repair man, or stories about life in Kansas and growing up on the farm. I have never tired of them, even though more recently I've heard some stories told over again, or been able to detect when there might be a tad bit of exaggeration involved.
Concerning birds, Grandpa has always said: "THE most beautiful bird in all of North America is the Painted Bunting." As a child I thought this to be a stretched story because he described it as having all the colors of the rainbow on it's feathers. He would go on and on about it's incredible beauty and then sigh to tell me he's always wanted to see one, but that they're shy and hard to spot. Having heard about this mysterious, beautiful bird for years, the painted bunting has held somewhat of a "Big Foot" legendary status in my mind.
Not long after Andrew and I had moved into our new home, he put up a really neat bird feeder he'd made in college. It holds a lot of seed and soon began attracting black-capped chickadees, cardinals, goldfinch, cedar wax-wings, and of course the token junk birds, sparrows. We had countless hours of entertainment watching cardinals (we counting up to 14 one time!) feast at the feeder during snow days this past winter. When things warmed up and I'd been away to visit family, I returned to discover that Andrew had built a new feeder and a bird house he'd affixed to a tree in our backyard. He'd been teasing me about some of the birds I'd identified, and decided to build a house for a Titmouse if not only because it's name made him laugh. *You can imagine the look on his face the day I announced in all seriousness that we'd had a titmouse visit the feeder. lol (Boys!)
Alas, the titmouse house was not to be inhabited by the intended bird. Andrew thought I was terribly cruel when I announced that sparrows had begun to build a nest and that it must immediately be ripped out. He teased me many times about how God made all creatures and how He even cares about the sparrow. Yes, yes, I knew that, but greater than "His eye is on the sparrow" was the voice of my Grandfather saying "Sparrows are junk birds. Rip out their nests if they build in your birdhouse."
AHH...what to do?
For the record, Andrew did offer to rip out the nest, but I relented when one day I tapped the box and heard little peeping sounds. Drat. Not only have they nested, but they laid eggs that have hatched! At that point we figured we'd let the sparrows finish raising their brood. No big deal. I called the bird-hotline (Grandpa) to find out how long it might be before the babies would fledge and we could make way for new, "good" tenants. His calculations were right on the money, but his information came with a warning that sparrows are territorial and would scare all the "good" birds off.
Since the sparrow family moved in I had noticed all of our prettier friends drop in attendance at our feeders. Great. Just great. Our backyard is now known to the song birds as the ghetto where the sparrows hang out. It would seem that every time I looked out at the feeder, all in attendance were on the "Junk Birds of America" most wanted list. Would we EVER be able to redeem our feeders for the good birds? And what's that? Oh lovely...the sparrow family is back for round 2 in the bird house???? Great.
Dear friends, after weeks of seeing nothing but drab brown bits gobbling down our seed, imagine my complete and utter shock when yesterday I peered out the window to see not brown, but a rainbow of color at our feeder! YES!
A PAINTED BUNTING!!!!!!!
I gasped and looked again. My eyes weren't playing tricks on me! Sure enough, there at the feeder was THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BIRD IN ALL OF NORTH AMERICA! It had colors of red, blue, yellow and green...just like Grandpa had said all those years ago. It quite literally took my breath away. I managed to muster enough courage and dared to walk away for a second to grab my camera in hopes of having proof that I did indeed see this majestic bird. This was my Big Foot after all. Who would believe me?
I snapped a few shaky pictures and soon a hideous blue jay landed like a B-52 bomber on the feeder, scaring my gorgeous discovery away. (I hate blue jays.) With the bunting gone, there was only one thing left to do. Call Grandpa. He gasped when I told him and I once again heard "That is THE most beautiful bird in all of North America." I delighted in telling him my very own bird sighting story and as dinner needed to be prepared, we were soon off the phone.
I went about my work with a strange level of excitement I haven't known in a while. It was thrilling to have something so long awaited checked off my mental bucket list. Content with my discovery I once again glanced out the window to relive the moment...only to see that the bunting was back! Ladies and gentlemen, the bunting returned several times yesterday AND I've already seen him once this morning! He knows where to find the goodies so I have a new determination that our feeder will never run out.
God delights our hearts in many ways and having this gorgeous creature deciding to frequent our feeder gives me hope that our backyard bird-club may be redeemed! Move over sparrows, a painted bunting is in the house! :)
I learned that sparrows, grackles, starlings, blue jays and other birds like these are junk birds. They really have no other purpose in life but to make havoc and destroy things. These are "bad", messy, mean birds that will rip out the nests of good birds and might as well be shot.
A bird that has a sweet tune is a monogamous bird that will remain faithful to it's mate until it dies. These "good" birds are usually colorful, are not far from their mate, are good parents to their young, and should be protected. One of Grandpa's favorites are bluebirds, which he builds houses for and keeps watch over as they nest and raise their young.
Something else you should know about my Grandpa is that he is a teller of stories. I have on countless occasions sat laughing over a bowl of popcorn at the dinner table late into the evening as he retold crazy encounters he'd had during his time as a mobile home repair man, or stories about life in Kansas and growing up on the farm. I have never tired of them, even though more recently I've heard some stories told over again, or been able to detect when there might be a tad bit of exaggeration involved.
Concerning birds, Grandpa has always said: "THE most beautiful bird in all of North America is the Painted Bunting." As a child I thought this to be a stretched story because he described it as having all the colors of the rainbow on it's feathers. He would go on and on about it's incredible beauty and then sigh to tell me he's always wanted to see one, but that they're shy and hard to spot. Having heard about this mysterious, beautiful bird for years, the painted bunting has held somewhat of a "Big Foot" legendary status in my mind.
Not long after Andrew and I had moved into our new home, he put up a really neat bird feeder he'd made in college. It holds a lot of seed and soon began attracting black-capped chickadees, cardinals, goldfinch, cedar wax-wings, and of course the token junk birds, sparrows. We had countless hours of entertainment watching cardinals (we counting up to 14 one time!) feast at the feeder during snow days this past winter. When things warmed up and I'd been away to visit family, I returned to discover that Andrew had built a new feeder and a bird house he'd affixed to a tree in our backyard. He'd been teasing me about some of the birds I'd identified, and decided to build a house for a Titmouse if not only because it's name made him laugh. *You can imagine the look on his face the day I announced in all seriousness that we'd had a titmouse visit the feeder. lol (Boys!)
Alas, the titmouse house was not to be inhabited by the intended bird. Andrew thought I was terribly cruel when I announced that sparrows had begun to build a nest and that it must immediately be ripped out. He teased me many times about how God made all creatures and how He even cares about the sparrow. Yes, yes, I knew that, but greater than "His eye is on the sparrow" was the voice of my Grandfather saying "Sparrows are junk birds. Rip out their nests if they build in your birdhouse."
AHH...what to do?
For the record, Andrew did offer to rip out the nest, but I relented when one day I tapped the box and heard little peeping sounds. Drat. Not only have they nested, but they laid eggs that have hatched! At that point we figured we'd let the sparrows finish raising their brood. No big deal. I called the bird-hotline (Grandpa) to find out how long it might be before the babies would fledge and we could make way for new, "good" tenants. His calculations were right on the money, but his information came with a warning that sparrows are territorial and would scare all the "good" birds off.
Since the sparrow family moved in I had noticed all of our prettier friends drop in attendance at our feeders. Great. Just great. Our backyard is now known to the song birds as the ghetto where the sparrows hang out. It would seem that every time I looked out at the feeder, all in attendance were on the "Junk Birds of America" most wanted list. Would we EVER be able to redeem our feeders for the good birds? And what's that? Oh lovely...the sparrow family is back for round 2 in the bird house???? Great.
Dear friends, after weeks of seeing nothing but drab brown bits gobbling down our seed, imagine my complete and utter shock when yesterday I peered out the window to see not brown, but a rainbow of color at our feeder! YES!
A PAINTED BUNTING!!!!!!!
I gasped and looked again. My eyes weren't playing tricks on me! Sure enough, there at the feeder was THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BIRD IN ALL OF NORTH AMERICA! It had colors of red, blue, yellow and green...just like Grandpa had said all those years ago. It quite literally took my breath away. I managed to muster enough courage and dared to walk away for a second to grab my camera in hopes of having proof that I did indeed see this majestic bird. This was my Big Foot after all. Who would believe me?
I snapped a few shaky pictures and soon a hideous blue jay landed like a B-52 bomber on the feeder, scaring my gorgeous discovery away. (I hate blue jays.) With the bunting gone, there was only one thing left to do. Call Grandpa. He gasped when I told him and I once again heard "That is THE most beautiful bird in all of North America." I delighted in telling him my very own bird sighting story and as dinner needed to be prepared, we were soon off the phone.
I went about my work with a strange level of excitement I haven't known in a while. It was thrilling to have something so long awaited checked off my mental bucket list. Content with my discovery I once again glanced out the window to relive the moment...only to see that the bunting was back! Ladies and gentlemen, the bunting returned several times yesterday AND I've already seen him once this morning! He knows where to find the goodies so I have a new determination that our feeder will never run out.
God delights our hearts in many ways and having this gorgeous creature deciding to frequent our feeder gives me hope that our backyard bird-club may be redeemed! Move over sparrows, a painted bunting is in the house! :)
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