Magnetic Scrabble Boards: Home Made!

Before Charlie's and Ruby's birthdays, I had an idea about creating big magnetic wall boards for each of them.  In my head, the boards were painted funky colors and would be covered with scrabble pieces so the girls could spell words, create sentences, just have fun with them-- oh and maybe learn a little something too.  The inspiration came from this awesome-yet-slightly-above-their-skill-level exhibit at the Children's Museum of NH in Dover.  It's a series of paragraphs from The Cats of Mrs. Calamari, by John Stadler.  A young reader can literally fit together the pieces to create the story in full:

So off I went to the local Home Depot and picked up the biggest piece of sheet metal available and enough trim board to frame it.  I accosted the nice man in the lumber section, who walked me through the easiest way to get the trim to stick to the sheet metal.  He suggested I use thin plywood as a backing for the sheet metal, and he happened to have it pre-cut to the exact size of the metal.  He threw a tube of Liquid Nails in my cart too, saying I wouldn't need any other tools.  He also brought me to the paint aisle, where I picked up a couple cans of good-for-everything (and no need to prime) spray paint. 

Paint the sheet metal, then glue it to the plywood with Liquid Nails.

Paint the trim, then glue it to the sheet metal.

Next I stopped at (ANY department store that carries games) to grab a game of Scrabble, which happened to be on sale for 14 bucks.  Oh, and I grabbed a bunch of magnetic tape at Michael's too. 

Magnetic tape can be cut with scissors and sticks to the back of
anything, including scrabble pieces.

And Voila!

Now, with  Charlie's I got a little lazy and found (again, at Michael's) a 50% off large frame that the same-sized sheet metal fit into.  I painted the metal a different color, and the result is a cleaner, less home-made looking magnetic board.  Oh, I also found wooden letters at Michael's too, so Charlie's board has slightly different looking pieces on it to play with.  This is important, as the two girls are very much into ownership right now.  I can already hear them arguing over e's and s's.  The different-styled letters saves me from that little hassle.  Happy Birthday, my girls!

Bravery is Relative

Over the last few years I've developed a serious fear of heights.  I never liked high places, but now when I am not at ground level, I actually physically react in a way over which I have very little control.  I get what must be vertigo (can't keep my balance), and panic sets in.  Typically I just avoid high places, including stairwells under which I can see the space between flights, and ferris wheels-- that kind of thing.  I know it's irrational, but it happens anyway.  So, I felt pretty good about myself, having climbed up this ladder this morning to put up what the girls call the "birdie condo."

Here's the dramatic photo of how high I climbed (risking my life) for the sake of my children's happiness:

Here's reality.  I was desperately hugging the tree with one arm while equally as desperately hammering the nails in with the other hand just enough so the houses wouldn't fall.  I think I left my extra nails up there before hurrying down to solid ground.  I left the ladder so Joe can "confirm" (re-do/alter/finish) my work.

  

My Favorite Sea World Moment

Nope, this is not about jam, and it's not really about Sea World either.

While some of our political views don't support wars between countries for the purpose of solving problems, sometimes it comes to that.  And so, we have a massive trained military to defend and maintain all the opportunities and freedoms we have as Americans.  I'm obviously simplifying things here.

I didn't know Joe when he was in the military.  Before we met, before he became an engineer, before he attended college, Joe was in Navy for 5 years, during which he trained to be a Rescue Swimmer.  He did all kinds of incredible and crazy stuff like completing SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape) school, and later jumping out of helicopters into the ocean to save lives.  Again, I'm simplifying, but you get the idea.  My hubby is such a nice guy, you'd never know he was such a bad ass.

This has all come to the forefront of my mind lately as the result of a couple of public events.  While in the second row (Joe's idea) at the Shamu show at Sea World a few weeks ago, the announcer asked all former and current US and US supporting military to stand up.  There was this brief moment where no one stood.  Then seemingly one by one, many dozens of grandparents, dads and moms and young adults rose up all over the huge stadium.  Joe stood, nodded his head to others who were standing, and we all clapped and cheered for a long time.  It was an interesting few moments for our family since although our children know their daddy was in the Navy, they don't really understand at their age just what it means.  I couldn't help but come to tears, witnessing Joe as a part of this bigger, really important group of people with a common experience, history and understanding.  I was seriously proud and moved.

Luckily for Joe this moment happened before the girls and I realized that the second row "Soak Zone" literally meant that when you leave the show, it will be as if you were dunked in the tank with the whales for several minutes.  Charlie and I went along with it cheerily as Addie and Ruby cried until the end of the hazing.  How could we be upset at Joe with all that lingering pride soaking through us too?  Let's just say we sat further back at the dolphin show.

We chose the photo of Joe above to use in a video the girls' dance teacher is putting together to honor military veterans at their spring recital.  Her own husband has served for many years and is away from their family many months at a time.  That must be very difficult, and yet she is very passionate about honoring what her husband does.  Again, moved.  Thanks to him and Joe and all our veterans.  I can't imagine the experiences you've had and the sacrifices you've made to have our backs the way you do.

Making Fortune Cookies

Addie told me she thought it would be cool to bring something other than cupcakes to school for her little birthday celebration in her kindergarten classroom.  And that is what we did.  Rather proud of myself, I must say.

It started out by me frantically Googling "How to make fortune cookies" after promising them to my almost-six-year-old.  Most of the recipes are similar.  Here's my version of some of those recipes combined:

2 egg whites

1/2 tsp vanilla

1/3 tsp almond extract

3 Tbs veggie oil

8 Tbs flour

1 1/2 tsp corn starch

1/4 tsp salt (not sure this is necessary at all)

8 Tbs sugar

3 tsp water

Make sure to create your fortunes first.  I wrote them myself, but you could print them off too.  A glass of wine may be required for the creativity necessary for completing this part, or invite a good-humored friend over to help you.  Make them fun!

Beat together the egg whites, vanilla, almond, and oil until bubbly.  Then stir together the flour, starch, salt and sugar in a separate bowl.  Then stir in the water.  Add the flour mix into the egg mix and stir until it's creamy.  Now, here's the important part.  You have to be super-quick once the cookies come out of the over so as to not allow them to harden before you add fortunes and fold them up.  Because I tended NOT to be super-quick in my first try at these, I only baked 5 at a time.  Otherwise I was too late.  So, for each cookie, you'll put about a Tbs-sized dollop of batter on your greased cookie sheet.  Once you have as many as you think you can handle, put your sheet in the oven at 300 for 12-15 minutes.  When the edges are just starting to turn golden, take the cookies out of the oven.  Quickly use a spatula to transfer a cookie to your hand, then place your (extremely creative) fortune in the middle. Fold the cookie over the fortune, then fold the middle fold back on itself again.  It was helpful for me to look at a photo of an actual fortune cookie while doing this.  Then place the hot folded cookie into a muffin pan, where it is more likely to keep its shape until it firms up.

Once the cookies are cool, go ahead and melt some chocolate, add sprinkles, and throw them in the fridge (on wax paper or tin foil) until the chocolate firms, then remove to a covered container.

For the purpose of bringing them into Addie's class, we put each cookie in a cupcake liner.  A little warning:  Some of the fortunes seemed to stick a little bit to the cookie.  It's all about making sure the cookies are baked just enough but not too much.  

Oh, and did you know that fortune cookies are an American invention?  One story goes, a Chinese-American baker in California saw that many people in his town were struggling, so he decided to make cookies with positive "fortunes" enclosed to brighten their days.  

I love this idea and intend to use it myself.  Confucius says, good fortune (cookies)  to you!

The Devil's Portal and Vacation in Virginia

Today I cooked a LOT.  I made a couple batches of bread & butter pickles, dill pickles, cherry pie jam (TO DIE FOR), blackberry jam, blueberry jam, and strawberry-rhubarb jam.  I also whipped up a quick facebook page for Farmer's Daughters Farm Stand in Waterboro, as Ed and Sarah do not yet use facebook, or, what they fondly call the devil's portal.  I think it's because between us, we know of more than one married couple who have broken up as the result of spouses reconnecting with old flames through said portal.  Scary!  Anyway, it was a busy day and a good one.  Normally I get caught up in some dramatic tv series to obsess over while jamming, but today I mostly reflected on our vacation in Virginia last week.  We visited with Joe's family for a few days and had a fun and easy time, just the way a vacation is supposed to be.

Did you know that Joe was a Rescue Swimmer in the Navy?  Do you think he learned this move in survival school?  We're definitely framing this one!

Would you believe that four families, including all of these children (our kids, 2-year old triplets, and our little 1-year old nephew), all vacationed together in the same home?  Thankfully Grandpa has a big house!

Oh, Charlie.  She gets such a kick out of herself!  We do too, of course.

Spring and Other Stuff II

Signs of spring at our house...

Boogie pointing at this bumble bee for 45 minutes before learning his lesson.

Peeps Casserole a la Keith

Front porch masterpiece painting on Daddy's face.  (I think he actually took a nap.)

Confidently wearing sunglasses Ruby picked out for me at Reny's.  Oh, and publicly showing off the new paint job.

Ruby doing all the labor involved with making dandelion jelly.

Maine Maple Syrup Season

My grandfather used to collect sap on the farm and make maple syrup.  Since he passed away, and since my brother Ed and his wife Sarah took over the farm, they have taken charge of the sap-collecting in what is now our neighborhood.  The old sap house still stands at the bottom of our hill, and our community of siblings and cousins still all take part in celebrating spring by hanging around the sap house on what is now known to be "Redneck Saturday."  I think Ed and Sarah decided to formally name their not-so-formal celebration day in lieu of what is more popularly known to be Maple Syrup Weekend in New England.  Our little festival entails gathering around the sap house, bringing the kids along on the 4-wheeler to collect sap, taking turns putting wood in the fire, and having a beer or two.  It's a terrific family and friends event, and everyone goes home with syrup.  The boiling continues beyond Redneck Saturday of course, and you can pick up your own Anderson Farms syrup at their farm stands in the summer.

Gathering sap on the back of "The Flame," Ed's 4-wheeler, is a highlight of the day for our kids. 

The Sap House:  Where the Magic Happens

Ed and I watching the sap boil.  He's probably actually doing something productive while I stand there and get warm.

This really is what it looks like in the house when sap's-a-boiling.  And it smells SO good.

Ed filtering sap from the boiling pans.

We miss you, Uncle Brian.  Don't worry-- the boiling continues!

Sam takes his dad's seat in the sap house.

YUM.

The Letter I Wish I could Actually Send

To Whom it may Concern:

You are just a group of fools sitting around a big board-room table if you don't accept Samantha into your prestigious college or university- not that I'm even a little worried.  This kid is smarter and wiser than any adult I know, and her sense of what is good and right is eerily angelic.  Sam is an outstanding listener, counselor, and friend in general to all her peers.  Sam tends to know what's best in most situations.  I must admit, this is also true in my home when she watches over my three children (all under the age of 5).  While I spend most nights tugging, pushing, coaxing and finally giving up and watching the girls as they finally fall asleep, exhausted from their various tantrums, Samantha pops over for an evening, somehow gets them in their pj's, teeth-brushed, and actually in their own beds on time and-- get this-- they go to sleep almost instantly.  This all happens with ease, without fail, every time I leave my hero Sam with our children.

As an obvious aside, the kid is like a genius.  She's taken a zillion AP courses in high school, belongs to all kinds of various academic, athletic, and philanthropic groups, and all the while she has time for her family.  Oh and she reads The New Yorker for fun.  This ain't your average kid.  Did I tell you she works too?  And on a farm where there's real labor to be done?  Samantha is not a complainer.  She is hip and classy, fun, beautiful and attractively dorky, athletic and charming-- an all-around wonderful person.  I can't say enough about Sam, other than that I can't imagine the rest of the world sees her any other way.  She belongs wherever she wants to be.

In conclusion, if Samantha chooses to be a part of your college or university community, you will be luckier for it.  Your family will be a warmer, smarter, happier place too.

Sincerely,
Sam's Aunt Sue 

Procrastination Series

Many of the creative things I do around here are the result of my wasting time because I should be doing some other productive thing that's supposed to get done.  So, I figure the time really isn't wasted if I can turn the creative thing into something for the kids or our home right?  I'm pretty sure I have at least 15 more years of using the girls as my excuse for doing fun things while I should be doing less fun things-- like cleaning, running errands, or having a job, for example.  Here's my first cool ditty (today anyway).  It's the direct result of not wanting to do any dishes.

Wait-- this isn't it.  This is Joe after falling asleep last night on the ottoman behind our much-more-comfortable couch.  We've been staying up pretty late procrastinating (see a theme here?) getting things done around the house.  It took a toll on him.  Meanwhile, I'm pretty sure I was looking for the remote.  

Ah-- here it is.  Today's little procrastination effort.  I coulda made sandwiches, but I had visions of the girls dressing up in tea-party attire, using toothpicks to munch on there not-so-well-hidden string bean bites and other relatively healthy options.  We'll see how it goes.  Now I'm going for a run.  I swear I am.  Then I'm coming home to do dishes.

Weekend Funnies

Our free weekly paper arrived in the mail this week, and Addie immediately found a photo of our friend Dave S. dressed in a lobster suit, ready to dive into the frigid ocean, all to benefit the Special Olympics of Maine.  Great job, Dave!  Wait-- that's not Dave.  It's some other guy who sort of resembles Dave, but Addie is giving full credit to "Abby's dad."  See Into Ablivia for more on Dave and Holly's beautiful family. 

Lobster Dave

Real Dave

My Favorite Things

The girls received tons of wonderful gifts from family and friends over the holidays, and we appreciate and love every one.  Santa hooked them up with some toys too, of course.  Here are some of his choices that represent just what we hope our girls will be interested in as they grow up-- things that are fun, activity-oriented, and inspire creativity and imaginative thinking.  Yes, there were lots of pretty pink things under the tree too, but you know what I'm saying.  We hope that over time, our girls willbecome smart and active, confident, creative, and kind, all in one package.  Well, three packages.

She's smart, fun, and she's normal-bodied.  She's veterinarian doll, complete with cute (sick) puppy. 

There's nothing like a used pair of skates to get a girl psyched about being outside in Maine in the winter!

I don't know who was more psyched about putting this working clock together piece by piece- Addie or Daddy.  Either way, it is awesome, and it really does work.

More to come soon on our holiday, our travels to Virginia and beyond, and our jamming plans for the spring-- yep, I'm already in spring mode.  It'll be here before we know it!   

Redneck Christmas

You know it's going to be a redneck Christmas when Santa's wrapping up guns to go under the tree.  Seriously-- it's an annual family occurrence.  You see, Ed (my brother the farmer) is also an apprentice gunsmith on the side for kicks (note the pun-- totally unintentional).  He's a hunter, so he has guns to hunt with.  Plus he just likes learning about them, fixing and building them, and giving them as gifts.  I can almost guarantee each Christmas that someone's getting a gun under the family tree.  A few years ago, Joe and I both got guns for Christmas.  I feel like a complete bad ass whenever I say out loud, "I have a Kahr Arms 9 mm semi-automatic pistol" or "Yeah, Joe got a 9 mil Glock".  It seems weird to quote my 3-year olds while talking about gangster guns, but "For Real."  We are gun-owners.  A few days ago I went into a national chain store that sells hunting and fishing equipment.  The place does not sound unlike "Rubella," and right now does not feel much different than illness to me either.  I had to go check out a price on a shot gun my hubby mentioned ever-so-obviously on the top of his Christmas list.  I took a number at the gun counter.  Seriously, you have to take a number.  When the gun guy arrived to help number 411, I asked him to give me a price on the gun.  Well, wouldn't you know there are a zillion different versions of these bad boys.  So, to begin with he showed me the $650 version of the gun.  I said, "Actually, it's the one you had on sale a couple weeks ago for less than $200."  He picks up another one right away, as if he knew all along what I was looking for, but this was was a mere $400ish.  "Um, hold on a second."  And I call Ed right there at the counter.  "Ed, tell me exactly what I'm looking for here."  And he tells me.  And the guy picks up the gun I'm looking for, and while it still costs too much, it was the least expensive version of the gun, and of course the one I wanted a quote on.  I just KNOW the gun guy knew what I wanted, and yet I also know he completely took advantage of my gender and overall lack of knowledge about guns.  What a jerk.  I can't tell you how much at that moment I wished with every ounce of wishing power I had that I could "speak gun" and completely annihilate the man with my superior fire arm expertise, forcing him to seek a supervisor to help me with my most difficult questions.  Still, I was clueless, and I left the place without a gun.  His bad.  Actually, I ended up leaving there with an equally exciting-- well, to my spouse anyway-- object which I will not reveal here on the off chance (it's really totally unlikely actually) he should read this blog.  Sorry, Joe.  You'll have to wait for Christmas.

Oh, and just so you know, I never wanted a gun until my first Mothers Day arrived in Rochester, and Joe gave me a class on firearm safety as a gift.  No, I did not have a fire arm, but we lived in Rochester, and Joe traveled a lot, and we both thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to have a gun in the house.  I must say, the course, taught by both men and women, was awesome.  I learned so much and now feel much more comfortable around guns, which is good, since I expect to see at least one under the tree this year.

Holiday Photo 2010

I originally had visions of dressing our three girls in cute white cable knit sweaters, kahki pants, and little girly hiking boots-- oh, and matching pig-tails. I'd bring them to the beach, a peaceful drive of course, and I'd set up something formal-- they'd be smiling as if totally restful, looking longingly toward the horizon, thinking deep 3 and 4 year old thoughts all the while.  Needless to say, I didn't even get as far as "Go get your sweaters on."  It was a dress-yourself free-for-all in the house this morning, after which Erin and I toted the girls, including Althea, Erin's cutest-ever 1-year-old, out to Devin's camp site for some Christmas card hopefuls.  Here are the results.  Let me know which one you like the best, if any.

And here are lovely Erin and Thea-Thea, which sounds like "FiFi" when my girls say her name.  It was a beautiful day for a walk, and Thea's a good little tree-climber!

Fall Randoms, 2010

The Rubys

Well, I wasn't sure just how to spell that since the Rubys I'm talking about are two little girls' names.  So is it Rubies?  I don't think so.  I'm going to make up my own rule on this one and go with "Rubys."  Anyway, before I get to the two Rubys, here's the back story.  A couple weeks after Charlie and Ruby were born, we learned that Ruby's aorta was too narrow in one spot for blood to get through the way it is supposed to.  Without getting into too much detail here, the aorta is the big important artery that runs from the heart to other important parts of the body.  The doc decided that Ruby ought to have this narrow piece of her aorta removed, and the wide parts sewn back together.  Thus, when Ruby was 4 weeks old, she had heart surgery to repair a coarctation of the aorta.

When you have a baby who stays at the Barbara Bush wing at Maine Medical Center in Portland, at least where Ruby was located, you share a room with at least one other baby and her family, if not a few other babies and families.  We happened to share our hospital room with another Ruby and her parents.  Two Rubys?  Ruby R. is 4 months older than Charlie and our Ruby, yet when we met she was just a tiny thing.  She had an esophageal condition which prevented her from being able to keep food down in any way.  She was hungry all the time, and her parents couldn't do anything to help her.  Everything she ate would come back up.  I mean everything.  So, the two Ruby's were repaired, and our families have stayed in touch ever since.  We get together at least once a year, as we truly believe our friendship was meant to be.  This year, Meghan, Ruby, and baby Ramona (a year old!) came down for our annual play date, and the kids acted as if they see each other every day.  The Ruby's always end up in cahoots, as if they understand at the age of 3 that they have a common bond.  I'm telling you-- meant to be.  And yes, both girls are super-healthy now.

Can you pick out the twins in this photo?  It's getting harder and harder to tell!