I sit here holding a sleeping Simon in my arms. He has been napping for about an hour now, snuggled up here.

There are a million things I need to do. My computer work is long finished. Yet here I sit because I know that this is my last baby to snuggle as he sleeps. Too soon he will be too big for this.

Sometimes it is the simplest things that make people feel special.

I know how important time is. This year, Luis finally gave me a Mother's Day that was special. We did nothing more than walk around in downtown Madison, get lattes at the Union, sit on library mall and listen to the drumming circle. What made it special was it was spending time doing what I wanted.

Abigail loves when her one uncle takes her on a date, and last year was radiant after her her other uncle finally took her shopping. Vincent was glowing after Luis took him to the car wash recently. They painted the camper, went to Farm & Fleet, ate dinner at Burger King. Nothing too special, but it was special because it was focused time for Vincent. He wore that Burger King crown for three days. Isabella especially craves time. If she is having a difficult week, simply taking her to the office with one of us makes a world of difference. She sits quietly and does her school, yet she soaks up energy of being alone with me or with Luis.

I used to sit and play cards for hours with my grandma. As a child, she gave me the time and quiet attention I needed, and later in her elderly years, playing crazy eights with her gave her what she needed. Sitting with my grandpa in the last years of his life was special. We didn't talk much, but what mattered was the fact that we were there side by side on the sofa and I was focused on him as much as he was on me.

Time and attention are the most precious gifts we have to give. I have been thinking of that because of the elderly man we met while at a park this weekend. We were camping, and we stopped at the Lion's Park in Lena for the kids to play for a while. We weren't there five minutes when I noticed a very elderly man watching the kids play. He edged closer and closer, until he was within talking distance. We talked with him, truly listened to what he was saying. We had no clue who he was, but I now know all about his youngest grandson's struggles with cancer, his red-headed great grandchild, his upcoming trip to visit his sister, and that his wife suffered from Alzheimer's. I will likely never see him again, but the time I spent listening to him and talking with him made a difference in his day and mine.

I thought I was only being kind to him at the time, but the peaceful feeling I gained from listening has lasted for days. It was a gift that went both ways.

I ducked into Cafe Claudeen today on a whim to pick up a biscotti, part of my 3/50 pledge. Once there, I ended up talking with Claudia and Kareesa for almost an hour. This is not the first time I have done that, and I sincerely hope it is not the last. One of my favorite parts about patronizing the local independent businesses is the lovely people it brings into my life. After talking with Claudia and Kareesa, I am often reminded of this saying:

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. ~Leo Buscaglia

There is a calm, kind aura around them, a smile and a willingness to set aside what they are doing to simply talk. It is one of the things that makes me loving going into their cafe so much.

I have a nugget of a dream forming deep inside of me. Oh who am I kidding, I've had the dream for a while, but it has laid dormant deep inside there. A crack of sunshine has hit it and a little water has sprinkled on it until now the shoots contemplate breaking the surface.

Friends compliment my baked goods and breads all the time. Are they good enough? Could I sell them?

Never have I had a place bake commercially. A new kitchen has opened, and the owner will rent time to others.

Do I have the time at this stage of my life to tackle something like this? Do I have the desire? I do not know the answer to these questions yet.

The little dream sits still, beneath the surface. Maybe. Someday. Maybe.

I'm up far too late this evening, listening to the sounds of my family sleeping as the rain gently falls outside.

I have not been writing here lately. I could blame the fact that my work blog takes up much of my writing inspiration or that status updates on facebook steal the fodder for these posts, but neither is true.

I have composed many a post in my head over the weeks of this summer, but not taken the time to type them out. Consequently, when I read back over these months a few years down the road, there will be a gaping hole, like the one that stretches from back before Simon's birth. I will have missed out on the memories of things like the butternut squash plants that are on a mission to over take the garden, and Simon's decision to move to his own bed earlier this summer. Not recorded are things like Abigail's request to start wearing make up as she grows into a simply incredible young woman and Isabella's self-awareness as she requested to take a reading classes in summer school this year. I may not remember feeling crushed under stress of time and obligations this summer or the way that Vincent is very slowly beginning to learning to cope with young friendships.

I have been lazy, and I will regret not recording those thoughts. This blog is not just a shout into cyberspace, but more like a journal that I am okay with others reading. As a child, I wondered why my grandmother wrote in a journal daily, often just a few sentences about the weather, visits or gardening. I understand now. We write to remember. Those few sentences I wrote years ago help me to remember things like Vincent trying to pay me for letting him take laundry off the line or learning the hard way never to use anything other than a pie pumpkin in my baking. I can go back and stun myself with wisdom that had slipped my mind, this this thought I typed out nearly six years ago about Isabella:

Isabella is a little me in so many ways: intense, withdrawn, cautious, tenacious, awkward, insecure, not to mention that she looks just like me. It's like to effectively parent her, I need to parent myself and calm my tendencies to do the same things she does before I can react to her without both of us going into intense mode.

This is still so true, and it is something I need to remember more often.

I should take the time more often to record a few thoughts here.

Have you ever seen the movie One Hundred One Dalmatians? One my favorite characters has always been Rolly. He is little puppy who is perpetually hungry, saying in a charming little English accent things like "I'm hungry, Mother" "I'm not sleepy. I'm hungry", and "But I am. I'm so hungry I could eat a whole elephant."

Ever since Isabella's toddler years, when she opens the snack cupboard shortly after a meal and I question what she is doing because we just ate, she will reply "But I'm hungry mama." It makes me think of Rolly every time.

The other day, she did it again. Then she stopped and giggled. She told me that when she says that, she sound like the little dalmatian who is always hungry.

I love that she figured out all on her own something that has been my private little giggle for years.

So, I was listening to a program talking about health care in the US. It was being compared and contrasted to the Canadian system. Some facts were touted - the Canadians have a longer life expectancy, lower infant mortality rate, spend less than half of what we do, they are facing an expected doctor shortage, the long waits for elective or specialist care. The terrible keyword "medical rationing" was used.

Do people really think we don't have medical rationing in the US? We do, but it is rationed out by socio-economic status instead of by the government rationing across the board.

If you have money, you can get whatever care you want. I am guessing that is probably true in Canada too, by the way.

If someone makes too much to have government health care, but has poor private insurance, their care is rationed. I have been there. No dentistry care for years due to financial reasons, both as a child and as an adult. Not going to the doctor for certain things because we didn't have the money. I have friends who have to think long and hard about whether something warrants a doctor visit for their children because of the expense involved in an after-hours emergency room visit.

This is rationing, we just don't call it that.

I might question whether extreme treatments are valid in every case and support medical rationing to some degree, but that is beside the point. The point is that by no providing adequate medical coverage to all of our citizens, we are creating a system that requires some people to either abuse the system (depends on your perspective, but I have to say that some of those people who call an ambulance to get to the hospital for non-emergency care are doing so because they have no other way to get there) or for people to opt-out because they don't want to bankrupt their families.

This is still a form of medical rationing in my opinion.

Photo Day!

Look at Isabella swimming! We went to Lake Le-Aqua-Na and my darling princess had no fears at all of swimming around. Proud mama.
Vincent was all about helping make homemade ice cream at the Reunion. He enjoyed every bite.

Abigail caught a stray kitten and managed to hold it for a little while. She was so proud of herself. The kids worked together for quite a while to catch the kitten, but Abigail was the only one who managed to hold it.

Simon, looking very thoughtful as he hung out in the greenhouse at Inn Serendipity with Lisa and the adults as they talked.

Storypeople

Found this gem on Storypeople today. Somehow it summed up what I have been feeling lately:

I finally got to exactly where I wanted to be, she said, so why won't all these growth experiences go away & leave me alone?

Randomness

I haven't done a random post in while.

~ Does it make me a freak that I am completely unaffected by the deaths of Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson? Death is part of life, and I didn't know them personally. Famous people dying and being mourned by so many who never truly knew them feels odd to me. Maybe I am too icy on somethings.

~ Would you use a $1 off coupon at your farmers market? There was one in our paper. I cut it out and intend to use it, but Luis is astonished. There is a minimum $5 purchase with it, and I almost never spend more than $2-3 with one vendor, so whomever I buy from will actually end up with an extra dollar or two after I use the coupon. Or am I just rationalizing and being cheap?

~ Do you ever just tear up with love for your kids? Please, let me be the parent these amazing souls deserve.

~ I want a good set of popsicle molds, like Tupperware made when we were kids. I want to be able to make HFCS-free popsicles for the aforementioned amazing souls.

Why?

I am sitting outside listening to the birds and enjoying the cool morning air. I am watching a man spray poison on the weeds in the beds around his house. Instead of taking an hour to weed (there are not that many weeds, and it really would be less than an hour's work), he is spending ten minutes poisoning the plants, poisoning our earth, poisoning our water supply.

That feels so very wrong to me.

A reason to love farmers markets

Conversation at the market a week ago Saturday:

Me: Do you have any rosemary?
Plant Lady: No, my husband did not pack any herbs today.

Conversation this Saturday:

Me: (walking up to the plant lady's stall)
Plant Lady: Oh, I have that rosemary for you this week! I told my husband he had to pack herbs this time.

It is the little extra attention to service that make buying direct from independent people so much nice.

Photo Day!

Time for some more photos...

The kids had a lot of fun playing on Bascom Hill when we were there a few weeks ago.

Vincent being goofy at the top on Bascom Hill.

We went to the Brodhead Airport for breakfast with Peter and Mary on a breezy morning.

The kids have been having a great time in the garden. Notice my little baldie. He wanted a short haircut for summer.

Simon enjoyed harvesting radishes too.

I took this one at the farmers market this week, and I love the way it turned out.
Our pear trees have fruit on them this year! Hurray!

Heinz, Log Cabin, Stay-Puft, Grey Poupon...or my own?

I have come to the conclusion that there was a food conspiracy that took place over the last half century.

Power was taken away from the people of the US and given to the processed food industries. It was a slow process, and it was probably not planned out long term, at least in the beginning. I'm guessing it started with convenience, but the long term event was a considerable loss of our culinary cultural knowledge.

I never questioned most of the things I bought until Isabella and Vincent started having problems after consuming foods with corn syrup in them. That stuff is insidious. The number of foods with corn syrup is insane, and in order to allow them to eat, I had to learn to cook foods that I had never even considered making myself before. Syrup. Graham crackers. Marshmallows. Hamburger buns. Ketchup.

Sure, I could have bought most of these things without the corn syrup in them, but the price on the natural, organic processed verions is wicked high. Sorry, I am not going to pay $5 a box for crackers or $8 for a couple of marshmallows.

So, gentle reader (channeling Bronte from Jane Eyre there), should you have the desire to make your own staple foods, I promise you that they are actually very easy to do. Insanely easy.

Pancake Syrup:
3 c sugar
3 c water
a glug of molasses, vanilla or other flavoring agent

Boil about 15 minutes or so until thickened. Cool and pour into a jar. Keep in the fridge. I'm sure there is a technical temperature to heat to for the proper thickness, but I can never find the candy thermometer, so I just go until it looks good. Yes, once I cooked it too long and it crystalized and a couple of time I didn't cook it quite long enough and it was thin. 95% of the time, though, I get perfect syrup with zero effort and no nasty corn syrup in it.

Marshmallows:
I like this recipe. It is so easy you will fall over yourself for having never made marshmallows before. I mean really, mix water and gelatin in a bowl. Boil some water and sugar on the stove. Dump them all together and let your mixer do its thing for the next 20 minutes. How easy is that? It roasts nicely for a s'more and it makes a good rice krispie bar too.

Graham Crackers:
There a lot of recipes on line. I like this one from Vegan Cupcakes take over the World. You can be eating homemade crackers in less than 30 minutes from the time you start. They are easy to roll out, even if you are like me and don't follow the insructions perfectly. I generall just roll them, square out the edges and cut with my bench knife to the size instead of rolling them out twice for perfectly shaped crackers like the recipe calls for, but I'm lazy that way.

Mustard:
Mustard seeds, check. Water, vinegar, bit of sugar, check. Puree in a food processor and you have mustard. Okay, there is a day or two for soaking the seeds in there, but really, mustard is easy peasy.

Ketchup:
Recipes abound for this one, so have fun finding what fits your preferances. Basic recipe is tomatoes, onion, garlic, little bit of oil, some spices, brown sugar and vinegar. Puree, cook until it as thick as you like.

It is rather funny how easy making your own food is. Mac and cheese, hamburger helper type foods, taco seasoning mix - these are not hard foods to make. Once we start thinking outside of the processed food aisle, it is interesting how perspective changes.

Time + Kids = Creativity

Question #1

What do you get when you mix one pile of scrap wood, one determined kid who is mechanically inclined and lots of free time?

Vincent's fort

This has been his project of the week, built with his own tools. He took out the screws that were already in the wood so that it would be safe for everyone, then reused the screws to hold everything together. He hung the tire on there as a doorknocker, and he put the turtle shell on top for shade. He is trying to figure out what he can use for sides because our scrap wood pile was rather low. I'm sure he will come up with something interesting.

Question #2

What do you get when you mix one toddler who got the morning munchies with one 6 year old boy who often forgets to put away the cereal and milk after he is done with breakfast?
Looks so sweet and innocent doesn't he? Well, the highly classy ricotta cheese container bowl made its appearance in front of him after I discovered what he was doing. Notice the white line on the bottom of the cereal container? Those are not Frosted Flakes, and that is not sugar. Here, take a closer look:
Yes, he put the milk into the cereal container. Good gravy. Let's just say that all of the kids had a quick snack of cereal before it was mush. That was a brand new box of cereal that I had just put into the container the afternoon before too.

Happy days!

Breaking News:

Isabella is reading for pleasure! Daily!

I have actually had to tell her to put the book down in order to do something.

Given her struggles and the fact that she is so into visual images like Luis, I was not sure that this day would ever come. This is so cool.

Drip drop

Each season has its own type of rain.

The rain of summer has fat drops they plop down, cooling as they fall.

The rain of fall slices down from the sky, stripping the trees of their leaves, taking the oranges and crimson away, leaving us with brown and getting us ready for the stark look of winter.

Today we have a spring rain, steadily drenching. Suddenly, everything is brighter than it was a week ago. The soil is blacker. The buds burst into flashes of light green. The brown patches of grass turn emerald. My little onion sets have miniature stalks poking out of the garden beds.

Welcome back, spring.

Food and Safety

So, obviously I am big fan of eating local. No surprise to anyone reading this on a regular basis.

With all of the food safety scares in recent years and months, I suspect that more and more people will be seeing the importance of local food, buying direct.

Those big national food conglomerates buy foodstuffs from hundreds of sources. They mix foods of various origin (including international usually without labeling nation of origin). They process, package and distribute throughout the nation. It is efficient from a cheap oil, processed food standpoint. From a resources standpoint, it is extremely wasteful. The materials used in transportation and packaging represent waste. There is spoilage and a decrease in nutritional value of the foods that have to be picked in California and Texas, processed in Mississippi and delivered to Vermont and Montana. When situations like the salmonella poisonings happen, the amount of waste is beyond comprehension. Millions of pounds of food become suspect and tainted by association. Maybe it was a couple of hundred of pounds of pistachios that actually had salmonella. Because they were mixed and blended without regard, we have no way of knowing how many were tainted and where they may be. As a result, over a million pounds of nuts are being recalled. That is waste on a monumental scale.

If I buy spinach from a local source*, I can be reasonably certain that I know how it was grown and harvested. If I grow it myself, I can guarantee it is free from salmonella.

If I buy foods from a source that sticks with a few sources for food, I can be more confident that my food is secure. From a food safety standpoint, it only makes sense to east local, buy direct.

Our food safety increased for decades, but as food supply chains have spiderwebbed our nation, growing longer and longer, this is no longer the case. Our food safety has not increased in the last three years, and in my opinion, an argument could be made for stating that is decreasing. Without saying so directly, the message from the New York Times article is pretty clear. Eat local. Buy directly as possible.

I'm not a hundred mile locavore. I love me some coffee beans and chocolate, not to mention those avocados I treat myself to sometimes. However, I am aware of the source of my foods. I'm not fooling myself into thinking that the strawberries in the grocery store in December were grown in a greenhouse in Wisconsin or were picked two days ago on a small family farm in South America, package carefully and flown directly to my store for the bargain price of $3 per pound. Awareness and eduction about our basic needs is vital.

Nothing is more basic than food.

Eat local. Buy direct.

*And if you are in the Green County area and have any desire to begin a food based microbusiness of any sort, help a new Community Kitchen/Buy Local Initiative get off the ground. Go to Green County Kitchen and fill out the survey. Spread the word!

Open Letter to my Children

Dear Children of Mine:

Please for the love of everything that is holy, stop fighting, bickering, tattle telling, grumbling and picking on each other. Forever would be nice, but hey, I'd take one day of peace. That is all.

Love,
your Mama, who is on her last nerve

Run along now

I was not thrilled to wake up this morning to another layer of white covering the ground. Most of it has already melted off, but still, the mere fact that it was here means spring is still being held at bay by winter.

I am so ready for little sprouts poking through the earth. I am ready to play in the gardens, plant veggies for the year, harvest some rhubarb. I want asparagus, spinach and spring greens.

Winter, you run along now. We will see you again in six or seven months.

First a howling blizzard woke us,
Then the rain came down to soak us,
And now before the eye can focus -
Crocus.
~Lilja Rogers