a decade.

He’s 10 now. So that means just over ten years ago, I became a mom. It also means that ten years ago I was as big as a whale and had no idea what the next decade had in store for me. And that was ok. And that is still ok. Because decades, man. Recently I heard a quote that said, “People grossly overestimate what they can accomplish in a year, and vastly underestimate what they can accomplish in ten” (I think it was a second hand quote that oringinally came from Oliver DeMille). Garyn is now in the double digits age wise and I’m so amazed at what he is growing into…and lest I get all gushymommyteary, let’s just say that it is very good stuff indeed.

Confession: one of my deep rooted fears, a phobia straight from my childhood, is throwing a party and no one showing up. Some people are irrationally afraid of spiders, I’m irrationally afraid of this. Like lose sleep and have panic attacks afraid. When we moved here I was already stressing about his party. It was a year for a friend birthday party, but being in a new place our options for invitees were basically cub scouts, church, and neighborhood kids. Long story short I was terrified, stressed, and overall we had 17 kids come and play. It was perfect and I have had that phobia beaten back a bit.

 

We settled on water games and a water theme since 1) it’s crazy hot and humid and 2) that is both super fun and super easy for me, the mom, to put together.

His request was for a camo cake inside shaped like a water sploosh. This is what I did.

Most of the party looked like the above. Lots of kids, screaming, sliding and water.

The plan was to eat a hot dog picnic lunch outside. But as I mentioned before it is hot and humid and kids were wanting A/C. We moved the kitchen table and improvised! It was actually kind of hilarious. Not only did my sister-in-law supply cousins to the party, she stayed and helped. Saved my sanity! As a completely random aside…I’m very grateful my brother married someone whom I genuinely like. It’s a helpful thing since we live close and our kids will grow up together. Anyways, she wins all the things for making the trek down to the party and making a huge difference in how it played out.

Back outside for presents and more playing. (Do you like our broken porch swing in the background? It held the presents admirably, albeit a bit slantwise).

Then there was cake and ice cream. Turns out a group of kids can put away impressive quantities of cake and ice cream…

…also chips. Pretty sure my little girls each ate their respective weights in chips. And lemonade.

The day ended with presents from family and more swimming. Since the pink pool hasn’t moved since the party two and a half weeks ago, I’m fairly certain the grass underneath it is dead. Small price to pay for the quiet hours of mommy time I’ve gleaned for myself while my babies entertain themselves happily outside.

Speaking of babies, mine turned 3 today. I have a backlog of posts that I’m going to be working through, but we are still in full out birthday mode up in this house. More to come on the Birthday du Jour as soon as I take a ton of pictures and wonder how she went from a scrawny Mr. Bates (from Downton Abby) doppleganger to my vivacious and funny little human being in miniature.

 

the pond

On our trip to the UK we flew over it. When I was a teenager and we took a family trip to Florida, I put my feet in it. But until we ventured forth with our munckins in tow, I had never actually swam in the Atlantic ocean. And I’m sold on the whole idea. We had so much fun on our first trip to a North Carolina beach I’ve already planned out at least 4 more this summer. We have to find a favorite one right?

Something that can be a bummer about southern California beaches is the complexity of the excursion. I know that’s my total lack of experience (my cousin lived in San Diego for years and she is a beach professional) but choosing a beach then finding parking then lugging your stuff to the spot can be a bit much. This time we drove 2.5 hours through rural farm land, then crossed a bridge and were magically on the shore. We parked (for free) then walked up and down these stairs and set up less than 200 yards from the water.

In about 3.7 seconds after being slathered in sunscreen (not that it is acutally necessary for my bronze babies, but maternal paranoia) They were in their respective happy places. Kids and sand is a beautiful thing. Well not literally…sand in a mouth isn’t pretty at all and it’s worse when they don’t even notice!

Selfie, lest posterity think I missed my childrens’ complete childhoods. Also the little girls took turns going into the big waves with Daddy, and would have happily spent the next 17 hours jumping into waves and getting splashed full on in the face. They are 3/4 fish.

Picnics at the beach are something of a logistical nightmare for a mom. There is the actual menu (tasty and healthy, but easy to make, haul and eat), keeping sand out of the food (I gave up) and bringing enough, but not too much (no one wants to lug sandy, warm food back to the car, am I right?). Recently I’ve been on a crazy canning kick and I found a woman’s blog that I’ve been stalking for about a month now. This post of hers was gold.

Fudgesicles Frosties and Homemade Fudgesicles (Fruit or Agave Sweetened)

[wordpress is not cooperating with me and my wanting to add pretty embedded hyper links, sigh]

The frosties were a solid victory. Also seaweed adorned sand castles. And sandy babies sleeping all the way to get pizza on the way home. Mostly we all love that beach going will now become part of what we do. I can’t wait to be a professional.

 

Internet and almost 5

The internet is like the ultimate magic trick. I post these pictures:

and what you see is the proverbial rabbit out of the hat, the woman cut in half, the happy product of family love for an upcoming celebration. What you don’t see, thanks to the internet, are the mirrors and rigged set up. What you don’t see are the toddler sized fistfuls that were gouged out of the cake while it cooled on the stove and I foolishly took my eyes off of it for 3 seconds. What you don’t see are the finger smudges on the perfect white fondant or my little helpers jockeying for position who almost pushed the cake off the table. You don’t see me biting my tongue off so I won’t scream at these adorable eager faces, “Please leave the kitchen! Birthday cakes are not about fun or about you! They are about me having one chance to show off and to create something and take a perfect picture! Birthday cakes are the mark of my success as a mother, so back off!”  No, No. Like any self-respecting magician I twirl my handkerchief and flourish my wand and it looks awesome.

Because text is a terrible medium for conveying tone and meaning, the above may read as cynical and a wee bit desperate. I promise it’s not…Ok fine. There is a smidge of cynicism and desperation but nothing a 3 hour nap won’t cure. Honestly, I’m grateful that when I look  back at these pictures, I’ll remember how much I rocked throwing this together last minute in the middle of packing my life. No plan, just colored drops beckoning from the Joann’s self. I’ll remember how she danced around the table and how carefully she placed each drop that I gave her on its pink frosting spot.

I’ll remember this face and how she blew out each candle individually, but what a triumph for the girl with no diaphragm strength to speak of. She bounced in her chair, literally, because she was too excited to sit still. She clapped her hands and shouted, “Yay!” with her gravely voice.

Opening presents is a total family affair at your house too, right? We will remember the process and the birthday parade, even if we forget the presents.

Smoke and Mirrors (read internet blogging) has a place. It allows me to capture the stuff that is worth remembering and letting the terrible day I was having fade into its proper place. Genuine and real, but trying to let the icky stuff go. Sigh.

So speaking of remembering…trains of thought collided in my brain one evening and resulted in the coolest art project/useful craft/cathartic way for me to say good bye to my childhood (it was quite the collision). We collected pictures of letters, numbers, and random things from our favorite places all over the city. I’m going to laminate them and put magnets on the back to make a perpetual calendar for the new house.

There are not many words for how happy this makes me.  “Goodbye” suddenly has purpose and beauty.

 

Aebleskivers!

Go check out my farm blog for my newest culinary favorite thing ever!

http://angrydwarfdairy.com/2014/12/09/aebleskiver/

ps. there are baby bunnies too!

Merry Christmas!

 

Age of Chivalry

That’s the name of our local Renaissance Faire, which we recently attended. I’ve decided that for me, going to Ren Faire is the adult equivalent to “I want to run away and join the circus.” There is a part of me that wonders (with just a touch of wistfulness) what would it be like if that is what you did…traveled from one Ren Faire or historical reenactment to another doing cool stuff like  weaving trim on a inkle loom whilst wearing a gorgeous period costume and talking to everyone in a cool accent? Le Sigh. I wasn’t even planning on going, but when I finished the kids Halloween costumes ahead of schedule and a friend mentioned that they were going, I reconsidered. I’m all about a Halloween costume getting as much use as possible and going with a friend made the whole thing seem less overwhelming. Throw in a borrowed double stroller, free admission, the prospect of a meat pie and I couldn’t wait. [Warning: Ren Faires are highly photogenic events. Please excuse the ridiculous amounts of pictures in this post and just know that I pared down considerably.]

  

Halloween costume preview. Also I’ve decided that the Faire was the most amazing place for my children. Not only are you encouraged to talk to anyone and everyone…most of the people who are dressed up, are at the Faire for the sole purpose of talking to inquisitive kids! It was such a nice change of pace…to be saying, “Go say hi! Ask the scary looking pirate where his ship is! Curtsy to the queen before launching into a 5 minute monologue about your fairy costume and how you are going to wear it on your upcoming trip to the Feywild!”

  

  

Adventurers all. Plus a dragon.

  

Ok. During the jousting, both of my little girls ’bout lost their minds. Corra was bouncing and giggling and pointing like mad at all the horses and she couldn’t get enough. Layna spent the whole time burying her head in my shoulder, screaming, and demanding that I keep my hands over her ears. That one doesn’t do loud noise. While we were standing well away from the arena a very nice Wild clan member with some very creative piercings tried to make her smile. Layna was distracted but didn’t quite know what to make of the wolf on the girls head or the white and black body paint. Huzzah for Ren Faire!

  

It was so cool to bring the big kids as they are now old enough to care about the historical crafts and other stuff that people demonstrate. They came home and wanted me to print out more Celtic designs for them to paint. Now I just need to learn how to spin hair into yarn on an old fashioned spinning wheel! Oh, it will happen.

  

Layna was digging the homemade crane and Naomi was in heaven being fussed over by a royal court.

  

After a yummy (if not period accurate) lunch we were able to continue on. The meat pie was delicious.

  

Friends were made everywhere (now I get to explain to Naomi why she can’t wear the green feather that her friend let her keep to church today). My little fairy and warrior monk (he’ll be a warrior monk mouse for Halloween) were very popular with everyone. I love the Renaissance Faire and it only is going to get easier to take the munchkins as the little girls get older. Who knows? Maybe someday Layna will be ok with “We Will Rock You” over a loud speaker? Maybe. Although next year I’m totally dressing up…better get on making a peasant shirt to go under the bodice I made in high school for my first Ren Faire.

No longer…

…does my beautiful fourth child look like Mr. Bates from “Downton Abby.” She did for a while and I’m a seasoned enough mother to know that all newborns look really weird for about 2 weeks.

Well. This little snookum turned one last week and I don’t feel like the time just flew by because we had a whole lot of life lived in that year. Good: A Rapunzel party, first words, a baptism. Bad: 187 smashed eggs all over the property, poop finger-painting, screams that split the ear drums. Ugly: Post partum depression, ant invasions, this song that my husband thinks is hilarious when he gets it stuck in my head. Anyways. It’s been a unique year that I would add to my list of top 10 favorites.

My childrens’ first birthday cakes have become a running gag in my family. I am the Queen of the Health Fad and unfortuneatly for my kids they don’t get normal cakes as a result. Little man had an all raw cheese cake, because we were eating raw. Nay had vegan cupcakes because we were vegan. Layna had homemade wheat flour cupcakes because I was between fads but still am a crunchy granola mamma and Corra got a GAPS compliant no-bake cheese cake. In my defense, my children have never complained and I thought all the cakes tasted fabulous. All the girls also had flowers so check one more for Tradition! Tradition! [you sang that like Tevye right? Good.]

Corra took a minute to sort out why everyone was staring at her and smiling. It happens a lot but without the sense of anticipation. She got a taste and gathered steam in no time.

Presents and, yes, they have all been successfully commandeered by her older sisters.

She got a new pair of squeaky shoes, which sound like they would be totally “chew your ears off” annoying. They grow on you, and are so stinkin cute. My mom made her that dress, thus making this my favorite outfit for her, ever.

So we’ve come along way. This face. Those eyes. These rolls of chub. I wish I had the right words to gush about her because I love her something fierce. She brings brightness to my life that I didn’t know I needed. Funny how kids fill holes you didn’t know were there. Happy sigh for babies and motherhood. (And no I didn’t paint my fridge teal. My camera just has a weird sense of humor…)

This too…

“This too shall pass.” That went through my head this morning when I was up to my eyeballs in my morning routine. What does that entail? I’m so glad you asked! It is making 2-3 different breakfasts (kids never agree), washing dishes, rinsing grain for the goats that is sprouting on my counter (whole post on that awesomeness later), wrangling babies/changing diapers, harvesting from the garden to feed the bunnies, dealing with some sort of cultured milk product (cheese or yogurt or experimentations), cleaning up kids, hustling little man out the door to take care of chickens, kissing the farmer as he dashes out the door, and etc. etc. etc. Sorry. It makes me feel more like Super Woman than crazy overwhelmed mom when I list it all out like that…shameful ego boost for me.

Anyways, it occurred to me that while that phrase has grown cliché in the use as a comforter for trials, it also applies to the beautiful, magical moments in life too. When I’m being swarmed by three little girls who all want to be in my lap at the same time it comes to mind as both sanity mantra and reminder to enjoy my littles. As this week moves forward in busy-as-all-get-out prep for a trip back east (many posts to come! I am sooooo excited!!!), these are my favorite things that will pass. But for now they make me smile. Really big.

 

Starting them young.

 

She is our resident fashion maven. Bold and Daring, she doesn’t let such bourgeois notions like “pants go on your legs” and “T-shirt holes are not meant for feet” stop her. Size shmize…my baby sister’s dress was just laying there waiting, nay demanding, to be made fabulous.

 

Lately I have just enjoyed quietly watching this one happily engaged in her own world. Oh and that massive bean bag and equally massive monkey stuffed animal were the best Christmas purchases. Ever.

 

So Cross Cookies. Garyn decided that he wanted to teach our Family Home Evening lesson (for my non-LDS readers: Family Home Evening is just where we spend time as a family on Monday nights. We talk about what our upcoming week is like, talk about any family related stuff, have a lesson about the scriptures or just virtues we want to teach, and then an activity and treat. It is simple and fun and something our kids look forward too.) So I reined in my proud mother exuberance so I wouldn’t squash this and stepped back and let him do his thing. He requested chocolate chip cross cookies because he was going to tell the Resurrection story. He did great and it totally made me sniffle. I did my best with his request, and thank everything seven year olds are way to into novelty cookies to be critical of appearance.

With these last few posts, I’m noy trying to wax philosophical about savoring the small moments. It may sound like it. Blog posts like that, sometimes sound preachy and often make me feel guilty. Honestly there are so many moments that I don’t savor. Things I will happy dance about when we are done (diapers and poop finger-painting to name a few). This is not a call to action, it’s the view from where I sit.  A friend challenged me lately to think “what would a holy woman do?”  I have decided that a holy woman moves gracefully through time, loving the moments and letting them go. Then she becomes the old crone (if that doesn’t make sense, I’ll explain later) with no regrets  and a very full heart.

 

Sushi

Sushi is like marriage. And marriage is like Sushi. All you can eat. No, really! Stick with me here! Our ninth anniversary was this past Wednesday (April 23) and we went out for Sushi to celebrate. I can make this metaphor happen…just watch.

[photo disclaimer: the food and company were so good, so distracting, that I totally forgot to take pictures of anything. Any pictures of food are from a website reviewing the resturant.]

The un-initiated hear rave reviews and people using phrases like “screaming orgasm” (name of a popular sushi roll) but then they also hear the scary stories. Epic food poisoning. Death by bad fish. Everyone has heard a nasty divorce horror story too, right? But despite the general glowing praise of these institutions, they still can’t figure out how the preparation process and the combining of such weird and incongruous ingredients can produce some sort of gastronomic bliss. How could chaining yourself to one person eternally be a happy thing? They think, “Whoa, banana tempura. So not my thing.” But here’s the great part about all you can eat: When you are all in, Committed, Hell bent on getting your money’s worth in raw fish, dang it…you suddenly can jump in and say, “Banana tempura might be the most brilliant thing ever.” And it is. I tried some…it was magical.

Marriage is like that. You look at the person and you think, “Whoa, Anime. So not my thing.” But then you pay your fee, say yes, there’s nothing to lose and poof! you find something new to love about this random assortment of ingredients your spouse. The other thing about sushi…its better with a buddy. Exhibit A: Pickled Ginger. Dude. I could eat it by the jar. I day dream about that stuff. Neil hates it. Ta Da! We are the perfect sushi buddies because I get all I want and he doesn’t have to lift a chopstick to get rid of it.

Ok fine, my metaphor is falling apart because of course marriage is only possible with a friend…sigh. I’ll stop now. But you get my point, right? I’m grateful that 9 years later I’m more in love, more smitten by my best friend than I thought possible. He makes my world turn and I’m glad we are on the same frequency with just about everything. I’ll forgive him the pickled ginger, tomatoes, and avocados, but only because he’s cute.

 

It’s so much better!

Saying it tastes like chicken is an insult to rabbits everywhere! Rabbit is so much better, and I’m only ever eating chicken again if I can’t get rabbit. Food snobs of the world unite!

We processed our first litter today. It really wasn’t bad and compared to the ordeal that is dressing and butchering a goat…it was a piece of cake, a walk in the park even. I took lots of pictures so let me insert my customary warning:

*********Warning: more pictures of cute animals fulfilling their life purpose with dignity and respect.**************

Can you tell I’m annoyed at what is happening to the central park horses in New York? But I digress.

 

This was the first rabbit of the litter. She (I got really good at telling gender, by the way) was one of the bigger ones and easy to tell apart…the others were orange-ish brownish gray. CoCo was happy to be outside in the beautiful morning air. Sorry all of you facing a real winter. I had to change her out of her jammies because she quickly got too warm.

  

Because we couldn’t get a Rabbit Wringer copycat made in time we went with “The Broom Stick” method. Similar in principle, the idea is to quickly disconnect the base of the skull from the C1 vertebrae. The husband guy did 5 of the buns…I was brave and did one. He would put the rabbit on the ground, lay the bar or stick right behind the ears, and simultaneously step on the other side while pulling up on the hind legs. Quick and easy dispatch.

  

He strung up the rabbit and started skinning. Those are two different rabbits. As soon as the first one got strung up I realized I still needed to go get ice to chill the carcasses as fast as possible. So I got pictures of the second one. Skinning is about 8 billion times easier than de-feathering a chicken by hand. I’m a fan.

  

For a very early birthday present, the kids and I got him a skinning knife set. It worked really well, especially the gut hook, which basically unzips the carcass from anus to rib cage in one motion. He cleaned out the guts (didn’t save any this time, but next time I’m determined to do something with the livers), then it would go into the pot of water so I could clean it up. Then into the cooler.

Like my pajamas work clothes? Naomi and Garyn were super interested in the whole goings on.

We will be tanning the hides and Neil is going to try two methods. So half the pelts are buried in salt and the other half are in our freezer. A co-worker mentioned that her friend might want to buy them to sell at the huge renaissance faire that happens here every year. I think that’s brilliant, so don’t be surprised if you see a post next year with me in a gypsy costume selling rabbit and goat hides.

  

The first three went into a pot where I boiled them with onions, carrots, bay leaves, salt and pepper. After 3ish hours it was perfect. I pulled off all the meat and divided it up into bags. From the three buns, we got 3.5 pounds of straight meat. But there is probably 4 quarts of beautiful stock simmering away as I type.

Bottom line: so glad we are raising rabbits. I love it and it’s only going to get better with the aquaponics system. I’m researching a ton about feeding rabbits a diet with no pellets and the fact that aquaponics excels at bunny food is just plain awesome. The more I’ve read about the commercial meat industry, the more excited I am that we are really close to being able to only eat meat that comes from our farm…really the only thing I can’t replace is sliced lunch meat, but I’m working on that.

For anyone interested: Our Silver Fox/Harlequin crosses at 12.5 weeks averaged around 4-4.5 pounds live weight and 2-2.5 hung weight. The purebred Harlequin was much smaller as it was only 9.5 weeks and it was 3.9 pounds live and 1.9 hung. We decided to let the other two from that litter grow out a bit more.

They have returned…

The Prince and Princess of Dirt have returned and that fortuitous omen can mean only one thing…more garden adventures at The Angry Dwarf Dairy!

  

All children of the Royal Family.

And yes, that is a hand full of cookies in Layna’s hand, accepted as acceptable bribery for not running across the street when no one is looking. After the first time she escaped, I sacrificed my dignity as a mother and handed her the bag of cookies to hopefully keep her in place long enough that we could finish. She is both quick and stealthy. Oy.

Once upon a time the Queen of Dirt noticed some tires out by the dumpster of a tire repair place by her castle. She basked in her brilliance when she remembered that people plant gardens in tires all the time and she rushed home to her beloved internets, which make all things possible. [dropping third person story telling for everyone’s sake].

I did some research and found a family in Arizona that basically created a self watering garden with tires for the beds. We took their ideas, made a lot of mistakes (and learned from them), and came up with this:

  

Rows of tires stacked on sawed off five gallon buckets that are fitted to a main PVC line which hooks into…

  

a master bucket (to maintain a certain water level) with a float valve that is fed from one of our rescued IBC totes. Dirt is placed on the screen that is sandwiched in-between the two tires (see above above) and it sinks into the water just enough to wick the water up to the top soil level, and the roots of the future plants. I’ll also put straw around the base of the plants to help with evaporation and keeping the soil temperatures cooler. I also painted some of the tires white to help with temperature, but then I got lazy. I’m calling it an experiment to see if it really helps. I think lots of science happened from people being lazy.

  

This is Naomi’s happy work face (she actually had a lot of fun, I just snapped the picture at a weird time…just saying so you don’t think I force my kids to do too much manual labor). Layna ended up eating more dirt than cookie but meh, she’s had worse.

  

We filled them with awesome garden dirt and I’ll check on them in the morning to see how high up the water was wicked. Also every Prince and Princess needs a domain that is all their own…so Little Man and Little Girl get their own garden tires to tend.

It’s taking more self control than I would have thought to not rush out right now (in the dark) and plant seeds. I know it’s mid January and February is going to freeze my toes off. But it’s gorgeous and the last 20+ years of experience living here doesn’t necessarily mean it will get cold again (like every other winter), right? Perhaps it is a good thing that Layna got into all my seed trays (I should vacuum the dirt off my bedroom floor at some point) and made it so I have to buy transplants and they won’t show up anywhere until mid February. Dang self-control inflicted upon me!

Also, as a preview of sorts…the husband man has decided to do a for real aquaponics system again, but this time based on a proven system and not one of our own experimentation. We will be doing a straight raft system (to avoid our previous problem with growing media) and it will be around 128 sq. feet of growing space. It will be something of an investment but I am really excited to get started, and as he has ordered most of the complicated stuff online already, we are committed! I will be documenting all along the way.

And for anyone curious, here are the current animal counts: 3 cats, 27 chickens, 1 goat buck, 4 pregnant goat does, 1 milking doe, 1 four month old goat wether, 1 rabbit buck, 4 rabbit does, 40 rabbit kits of various ages (numbers to be reduced Saturday, stay tuned for that!), and 3000+ earth worms. The worms totally count.