Mommy's New Hideaway

Dear Plow and Hearth catalogue, 

What a pleasure to set down my plow, and curl up by the hearth this afternoon to page through your fall catalogue. Now that I have tossed it into my Classic Wooden Hearth Bucket with the rest of the lavender-scented kindling, I had to send you my thanks.

I’m aglow, just like my incredibly well tended fireside, at the way you’ve anticipated my need for Fireplace Bellows, Wellingtons that take me “from garden to grocery store” (the only two locations I am aware of) and—the piece that truly captures the rustically absurd comforts of my home, the Space-Saving Canoe Shelf. Until today, I have saved space by simply not having indoor canoes, but I love your fresh ideas!

Yet it’s a much humbler product that captured my heart this season: fake boulders. Or as you’ve impishly named them, Mock Rocks. No more will I lie awake in my solid oak, four poster bed, burning with shame at the thought of “pipes, meters, stumps and bare spots” in our yard, nakedly exposed as if no one had even thought to put a pretend stone over these obscenities.

Never again will I pass by a “boulder” on someone else’s lawn and mistake it for simple geologic reality—no. I’ll see it for the sly, yet sophisticated decoy it really is, covering up some unspeakable foulness like maybe a bunch of really lame-looking actual rocks.

But if I may point out a missed opportunity: Mock Rocks are not simply a chance to to “camouflage a variety of challenges” but to actually hide oneself from challenges. Your Extra Large Mock Rock in Brown is just two discreetly placed eyeholes and a beverage holder away from being my new favorite get-away (except the hearth, obviously). How cozily I could snuggle there in my Reversible Juliet Quilt, secure in the knowledge that I am providing “visual contrast to beds and borders” while remaining completely invisible to my family!

To throw them off my scent, I have only to set the Laptop Rabbit lawn ornament out in front of my hideaway. Because (as you clearly know) my children no longer know the difference between my face and the back of an Mac PowerBook, they are unlikely to realize that this cute bespectacled rabbit is not their real mother!

But I leave the details to you, and eagerly await your spring catalogue. Back to turning my compost, or maybe just rotating the selection of tasty holiday nutmeats in my Snack Carousel…

Kris

At sister's soccer practice

When he got tired of running around the perimeter of the field at Audrey's soccer practice, he started flower gathering, "for Frank," he said. I finally worked out, with Scott's help, that Frank is the guy who is doing some landscaping work for us this spring and Scott told Calvin that if he picked all the dandelions, it would make Frank happy.  I guess Calvin took that to mean ALL dandelions, everywhere.

Calvin has taken to putting his hand on his hip for photographs, and also when he is talking to strangers-- I guess trying to strike a pose that conveys warmth and credibility at the same time? It seems to work.

Bit loose, but it fits.

Picture day tomorrow, and Audrey has selected this dress which my mother made for me for my eighth birthday. She looked at herself in the mirror and said, "Now I look like someone from the olden days, who works in an office!"

And when I laughed, the dust and cobwebs fell all around me.

Actually, what I remember doing when I first put on this dress was pretending to give a lecture to a Biology 101 class. That's what I thought the dress looked made for.  What made the look slightly less sophisticated in my case was the knee-high white socks and blue sandals I paired with it.

And you know what? I just realized Audrey has no shoes to wear with that dress tomorrow. She'll have to go in the 3-sizes-too-big-but-she-loves-them-anyway black Mary Janes. And white socks (but at least not with sandals.)

Calvin's shirt is pressed and his Dinosaur clip-on-tie is ready to go.

Easter Special: The blog is resurrected

I promised and promised Scott that I would not drop the blog all together now that I'm in a new relationship with Facebook, so, today, we rise again. Feasting on bacon and candy and a lot of coffee, and now, on pictures and videos of the kids hunting Easter eggs!

There was more squabbling this year as Calvin is now old enough to actually notice his sister scooping up his share of the eggs before he can get to them. Here's how egg hunts work at our house: because the Easter Bunny is extremely busy, he has subcontracted with Scott and I to hide the eggs that our family decorated together the day before. So Scott stayed inside with the kids-- drapes closed-- while I dashed all around the yard and hid eggs. This was made significantly harder by the fact that we raked and cleaned the yard yesterday, obliterating most of the good hiding places in the still-leafless spring yard.

I hope you enjoy the sound of the twerdeling birds in the video as much as I do.

Happy spring, happy Easter. Welcome back, sunshine.

Old footage, an exclusive for Gramma Jean

Hi, Mom- A little something for you, especially.  I can't email this because the file's too big but just ran across it and I don't know if we ever showed this one to you? It's a couple of years old. More, actually. I like Calvin's burbling commentary in the background and Audrey's "one more, one more."

Happy New Year's Eve, in which we lose our pants to the dance

Last post of 2012. I have to get ready for my incredibly exciting plans for New Year's Eve which involving sitting right here, on this couch, in my flannel pajamas, and watching a movie. Exactly what I always wanted to do on New Year's but when I was young(er) I felt more pressure to do something fun and memorable, like freeze my keester off in a long line outside a crowded club with a $20 cover charge (which would turn out to be $40 by the time I made it to the door) and inside of which I would have to stand crushed against the bar with my head in the armpit of some undergrad who didn't even see me there but was standing on my foot and making it impossible for me to flag down a bartender.  Oh, I miss my wasted youth.

Everyone thinks that videos of their own kids dancing are funnier and more adorable than videos of someone else's kid doing exactly the same thing, but we suffer from the delusion nevertheless. Feast your eyes and ears and GET DOWN with Calvin, and have a Happy New Year, from all four of us.

Christmas morning: The Big Reveal, plus tips on Lemon Meringue you did not ask for but, trust me, you need.

Scott is so annoyed with me for not posting anything for so long that I'm going to skip the text (I know: who's missing it?) and just throw on all the photos and videos that he has asked me (and asked me and asked me) to please just post already.

The kids were really rather spoiled by it all this Christmas. They loved it. It was fun to watch. And so far they have not discovered the great big bag of toys I'll be donating, in order to make room for the new. I'm on a New Year's organizing kick, but don't worry, I'm not going to blog about it. Nor am I going to share my recipe for Lemon Meringue Pie with Graham Cracker Crust, because actually, it's not mine at all, I got it here, and you should go there right now and download it because it is FOUR STAR INCREDIBLE and I've made it three times in a month already. And if I may just get a little food-bloggy for a moment, here is a tip worth following from The New Best Recipe, in their also-very-good-but-not-as-good-as-the-above recipe: don't let the lemon custard cool before you apply the meringue to the top. Put it one while it's still hot and then the underside of the meringue won't undercook and ooze that really disturbing clear liquid.

Did I say I was not adding text? I lied.