Heigh-Ho Silver! Away!

Our neighbors recently gave us this sweet vintage horse on springs. I love the look on Emmet's face. Having fun pretending to be a jockey, yet terrified at the being behind him that may be trying to bite his ear off. Funny enough, Silas isn't yelling in this picture. Just making faces for teh camera.
Both boys really like the horse, though they haven't named it yet. It's really cute when they take turns riding and "leading" the horse with its rope reins.

Backfire

Part of the reason we planted the vegetable garden was to educate Silas and Emmet about where our food comes from, how plants grow, and how we take care of other living things. It was also to encourage them to eat the fruits and vegetables we weer growing. You know, give them a stake in what they put in their mouths, get them involved and excited.
For the most part it's worked. I often find Emmet picking buds off the broccoli heads, Silas demands freshly picked (by his hands) spinach in his grilled cheese sandwich. They both stuff their mouths with sugar snap peas as soon as they find them. An all you can eat vegetable buffet. And let's not even get started about with the raspberry bushes. It's a virtual magnet. I'm considering putting up netting, not for the birds but for the boys.
So all this fresh, homegrown, handpicked fruit and vegetable harvest had me feeling very self satisfied, until...
Last night I made a muttar paneer, a pea and fried cheese curry with rice. Silas was inspecting the frozen peas before I tossed them into cook. "Who grew these? Where did they grow? When were they picked?"
My little food snob. No bananas for you!

Tendrils

Sorry, this is the artsy garden picture you'll have to put up with for the time being. The pole beans are my favorite thing in the garden. I love the willow poles they are climbing up, I love how tall they are, I love the way they spiral around the cling so tightly, and I love eating the vegetables they produce. Not everything is doing well in the garden this year. In fact the beans are getting some brown spots on the leaves which may be rust/fungus or possibly spider mites.

The corn is starting to tassel, even though it is still very short. The zucchini are setting fruit, as are the tomatoes. Cucumbers, potatoes, and eggplant are flowering. The turnips, carrots, peppers, and cabbage, are all looking good. The basil is making a comeback. The peas, radishes and broccoli are all being harvested regularly. As are the chard, lettuce, and(measly) spinach. The mustard greens are prolific, and I'm not really sure what to do with them all. We ate some on our grilles brats over the weekend and they were delicious, but it didn't' really make a dent in the crop. They are pretty spicy so the kids won't eat them. Maybe a soup recipe? Same with the kale. They seems like cool weather food to me, so I'm reluctant to eat them when it's hot.

Safety First

Silas found a kids woodworking book that was a present from Aunt Rachel last Christmas and decided it was high time he got some use out of the scrap wood in the basement. He looked through the book and decided he wanted to make an airplane. Since I couldn't really take him down to work on it by myself with Emmet, I told him we first had to draw out what we wanted to build. So he drew some rather abstract pictures of an airplane and a boat.
He was so stinkin' adorable and excited when Orrin got home. "Dad, Dad! I drew a plan. A plan for the scrap wood. We can cut and drill and hammer and make it just to the design. I drew this design on the paper so we can make an airplane that really flies!"
Somewhat fortunately for Orrin, Silas became distracted with playing with all the different tools and practicing with the various drills, saws, levels, hammers, tape measures, etc. that he didn't really ask that the design be adhered to strictly. In fact I don't think they even started on any part of it.
But they did make this:
And I love that he's wearing safety glasses and barefoot.

Star Wars Questions

Silas watched the fourth Star Wars a few days ago. He had to go to bed half way into #3, and I didn't really want him watching the violence at the end of that one anyway. So this was the first time he saw Darth Vader. Cute little Anakin that raced his little pod is now this scary black clad guy? It's kind of blowing his mind.
"Mom, Why is Anakin bad now? Why did he want to go to the bad side? Where is good Anakin?"

"Ummm... well Anakin thought that bad side was more powerful. He wanted to be more powerful. But of course good is more powerful than evil."

"But why didn't Anakin know that good was more powerful?"

"Well, I think maybe Anakin's Mom forgot to tell him that before she died."
(Any chance I can get to reinforce that Mom is all-knowing, and to listen to what I say...)

"But Mom, why is good more powerful than evil?" (Doh!)

"I think part of being good means working together, and working together makes you stronger, right?"

"But can't the bad guys work together too?"

"Well, sometimes they do. And then one of them will want to be more powerful and tricks the others and then he's all alone. So then- not as strong. Not as strong as good."
(Ayn Rand rolls over in her grave)

What's the significance? I don't know.

I actually have time to write something, feel like writing something, and yet nothing is bubbling to the tips of the my fingers. Bah! Figures. Oh, the old bullet stand by, of course.

• Orrin loaned me his ipod shuffle for me to take to the gym to listen to music while I run. I had been actually reading magazines and running at the same time. On a treadmill of course. It'd be just plain weird running down the street reading a magazine. Of course reading cooking magazines while you are running might be a little counter productive. Anyway. he point is, I need help with this ipod thing. Yeah, I'm an idiot. How freaking old are ipods? I've never used imusic before, I have no idea how to actually get music on to the device, how to move it around. Ok, I have some idea, but it seems so slow and cumbersome, I can't believe that I am doing it correctly. So, Catherine, I need a tutorial. Or better yet a visit!
• The garden is doing great. Orin took pictures the other day. Unhappily, I am in them all, looking sweaty, city, tired, and grumpy. There may be one or two where I am not flipping him off. So no pictures, for now. We had fried rice with scrambled eggs for dinner the other night, where everything but the rice came from the backyard. Ok, the canola oil, ginger, garlic, and soy sauce didn't either. Picky.
• I really want to make grilled zucchini to go with dinner tomorrow night but I know we will be up to our ears in zucchini soon so I'm making myself wait. The two plants are covered in flowers and baby zucchini right now. They are a round french variety, so I am anxious to try them.
• We did harvest a cup of red raspberries today. They are just starting to ripen so we should have lots more. There are 2 blueberries on the blueberry bush. The potatoes are blooming. The lettuce all bolted while we were away. The green beans failed to germinate, again. So now we are on round 3. Different variety this time. We found a big patch of black raspberries while out walking the dog this evening. I don't know if Emmet will let me pick enough to make anything with them, or if he'll just inhale them all.
• When I took the boys strawberry picking with me last week, I had to coax Silas into sampling one. He knew his job was to fill the flat and he didn't want to eat any until his job was done. Meanwhile, Emmet tried to take a bite out of every berry in the field.
  
• Orrin is pounding away at the front door. He forgot his keys again. Ha ha. No, he's chiseling in the place for the hinges on the new front door. His Dad found this mission style oak door for $25 at a re-use center. Orrin has stripped, rebuilt, sanded, routed, glued, and chiseled it, and it's still not done. He's also purchased about $200 worth of tools, equipment and supplies. So, if you consider that his time is worth nothing, it's a great deal!
• I don't really care about the cost. Orrin assures me only about 10% of that is consumables the rest he'll be able to use the next time he restores a door. The door is looking really nice, but is taking longer than either of us expected or hoped.
  
• Silas told me this story at bedtime tonight: A boy made a sign for his bedroom that said no people allowed. Daddy made him take it down and put up a sign that said no boats allowed. But then a bunch of water filled the room. The boy put up a sign that said no monsters allowed. Then a monster came and ate the sign. And then he ate the little boy! But the monster spit him out and the boy was all ooey gooey. The monster was very sick and had to go to the hospital.
  

Casualty

After checking the bees this afternoon we were sitting on the back stoop talking about how the hive is doing. Emmet climbed over into my lap and put his hand right on top of an errant honey bee. Stinger right to the meaty part of his palm.
The strawberry popsicle seems to have done wonders for the injury. Although every now and then he holds up his hand and says, "bee, hurd, bee, hurd."

Goats are against city ordinance

Silas was jumping on the bed when he was supposed to be getting dressed. So I asked him, "Silas, what happens to monkeys that jump on the bed?"
"They fall off and bump their heads. But I'm a goat so, you don't have to worry."
"Oh," I said. "And I heard that green goats go faster than black goats." This was some weird chanting song that he raced around the kitchen at Mom's house screaming while Ellis raced after him.
"Yes!" he shouted, looking surprised that I too knew this basic fact about green goats. "You tell Aunt Rachel that because she thinks that black goats are faster."

Flutter Bye

Several weeks ago Orrin took Silas to a Butterfly class at one of the local elementary schools.
They played butterfly bingo, won butterfly tattoos, (ratoos as Silas calls them), built a butterfly house, colored butterfly pictures, made a butterfly journal, and got to bring home six caterpillars in a jar filled with a gross looking caterpillar food paste.
Silas's assignment was to watch the caterpillars everyday and record his observations. We did ok until the camping trip, although his drawings may not have been the most accurate he enjoyed watching the caterpillars get fatter and made precise comments about how much food they had and where it was smeared in the jar.
When we came back from the camping trip they were all wrapped up int their chrysalises so we missed watching that. But we moved them to their butterfly house so when the emerged they could stretch their wings.
Silas drew a few more pages in the journal, selecting bizarre colors and odd orientations. Finally a couple days ago the first 5 emerged. Although we didn't see them in action they did leave weird red splatters all over the bottom of their house. There was one little chrysalis left to hatch (is that right?) and I vowed to watch it closely so that we would see the butterfly come out. Ha! Like I'm that good to just sit around watching a couple paper plates and netting... So we didn't see the last one emerge either. But emerge it did.
We fed them by soaking some cotton balls in sugar water. But after a day of that we decided it was time to let them go. Silas carried the butterfly house out to the back yard and we unceremoniously ripped the netting from the staples to release the butterflies. Silas was very gentle in untangling the netting and let one butterfly go at a time. Following it up into the air and letting everyone know where it landed or disappeared.
The boys examined and poked at the empty chrysalis husks. Silas kept explaining to Emmet that there were caterpillars inside. And not to touch the butterfly wings becasue the scales would rub off and they wouldn't be able to fly. It was very cute.
The last butterfly to escape the house may have gotten injured in the flurry of netting, or maybe she always had a wonky wing. But she couldn't fly very well. Silas coaxed her onto a stick, and then discoved that "she likes my finger better." He placed her in a potted geranium so she could have something to eat. But before we went in for the night she had flown over to the sunflowers, though I doubt she makes it through the night. In case you are wondering, the butterflies are painted ladies.

Happy Camper

I think this first picture pretty much speaks for itself.
Mr Happy.
Running through the forest.
We camped in Kettle Moraine State Park in southern Wisconsin with Orrin's sister Sonja and her family, and his brother Nathan.
The big boys went mountain biking a couple times. No major injuries, and the trails were "decent."
Ian is a daredevil on a bike. At least compared to Silas. Who spent most of every ride saying things like, "Not too fast. If I go too fast I will go out of control and crash and really hurt myself. Don't go out of control."
He's getting pretty good at balancing on his pedal-less bike, but down hills still freak him out.
Other causes of worry; " The mosquitoes will drink up all my blood! I can't live without my blood! Don't let the mosquitoes drink my blood."
Now whenever anyone mentions mosquitoes he informs them that they only drink "a little sip, so don't worry."
I read that vinegar on a bug bite was supposed to make it less itchy so I tried it on Silas, but he is not a believer in home remedies. And now he smells like a salad.



Emmet on the other hand smells like ketchup.
Maybe being outside all improved his appetite.
Maybe everything just tastes better cooked over an open fire.
He seemed to be shoveling food in his mouth the entire trip. Although Silas ate well too.
Actually we all ate well- hobo stew, fajitas, calzones, pizza pudgie pies, watermelon, pancakes, s'mores.
Emmet's favorite activity of the weekend was hanging out in the bike trailer ripping the foam pads out of every ones bike helmet. Seems harmless, until no ones helmet fits right and your forehead is getting scratched by the Velcro left inside your helmet.
Emmet's also getting a few more teeth on the bottom, bringing his total up to eight. Not the easiest time to try to wean him some might say. But if it's not one thing it's another, and no time like the present. He's not too happy about it, but slowly accepting milk from a cup.
Unfortunately, it means I can't sit down when he can see me. Because sitting down is an invitation to nurse.

Silas and Ian spent a majority of their time racing around on their bikes and dragging sticks and small logs out of the forest. They were the logging trucks bringing the wood to the "Daddy Sawmills." Though there were lots of disagreements about whose bike was faster and whose stick was longer throughout the weekend, for the most part they got along pretty well. Even, occasionally cooperating. And not just to thwart their younger siblings.

No camping trips planned for us for the rest of the summer but I'm sure we'll take a couple up north and maybe if you're very lucky we'll set up camp on your front lawn.