Kid's Gardening - Stepping Stones

I'm pretty sure everyone has made one of these with their kids, but just in case you haven't...



Garden stepping stones are super easy to make, and are actually a useful art project. (How many completely useless art projects do you have sitting on shelves in your house because you feel guilty for throwing them away?)

We've made them every year for the past few years, both footprints and hand prints. I finally have enough to line the flower bed in my front yard.



When I mix up the cement, I make sure to save enough to fill small containers for the girls to make their very own creations - random mosaics of stones, or whatever designs they choose. Those stepping stones go into their very own garden, adding a bit of beauty there too.

Michael's craft stores carry the supplies. If you use a 40% off coupon, it can be a pretty reasonably priced project. They also make nice gifts (since Mother's Day is around the corner.)

Is anyone else getting creative and decorating their garden space? I'd love to hear about your ideas!

Have some respect. A rant.

Something's been weighing on my mind for awhile now, though I've avoided blogging about it because I didn't want to offend.

When did it become so acceptable for women to disrespect their husbands? It seems that this day in age, it's the accepted "norm" for conversation among women to involve husband bashing. It breaks my heart to think of how our men would feel if they heard these conversations about them. How disheartened and discouraged and hurt they would feel.

If I were to challenge you to think of something nice to say about your husband, could you? What about three things? Could you rave for an hour about the great things he's done, the way many women can rage for an hour about the things he hasn't?

I get that your husband isn't perfect. Neither is mine. I could opt to bitch about the fact that he has a serious problem with paper clutter, that he can spend four hours in front of the computer at one time, that he likes watching hunting shows on TV, that he works too much, that he's anal retentive and it can be hard to live with. And in fact, I have bitched about those things from time to time. But I certainly try not to make a habit of it. Instead, I make it my goal to simply choose to live with those things that make me crazy. Instead, I focus on the fact that he works hard to support us, he mows the lawn without complaining, he listens patiently to me when I'm in the mood to talk incessantly, and he does what he can to help around the house when he's home.

I'm not perfect either. In fact, I'm pretty sure I can be miserable to live with sometimes - I'm moody and demanding, I'm a perfectionist, and I don't iron. But I'm nearly positive that my husband doesn't sit around with his friends grumbling about wrinkled shirts and taking out the trash.

How does complaining about our husbands make anything better? Does nagging and griping really make them want to do better? How about instead of that, we thank them when something is done for us, we appreciate how hard they work to support our families. Maybe if they see a bit of gratitude instead of a wife who is never satisfied, they'd be more likely to improve in the areas where we think they need it.

What really gets me is the women who expect their husbands to respect them, but refuse to give their men the same respect. Women are NOT better than men! This whole feminist thing irks me to no end - this way of thinking encourages women to hold themselves on a pedestal above their men, and it's destroying relationships and self images everywhere. There's no shame in being a woman, doing woman's work, and being satisfied with it. Women do have a place in this world, and we would do well to take it instead of trying to fight it.

It's exhausting to listen to all of these women gripe about the men they are married to (or are living with, which is essentially the same thing.) Surely there is something good about this man, or you would not have chosen to spend your life with him. Do me a favor - focus on some of those good things. The next time you're ready to vent about what a jerk your man is, instead think of something fantastic that he has done, or about him as a person, and share that with your friend instead. See if you can get a conversation going about what great guys you have, how hard they work or how funny they are or how much you enjoy being with them or what great daddies they are... something, anything, that's positive. Let your daughters hear you rave about your husbands, so that they know how to speak about their own husbands when they are grown and married.

Or even better - tell your husband to his face those positive things. Let him know you love him. Let him know you respect him. Stop just expecting his respect - earn it by respecting him first.

Oceans

Did you know Disney released a new movie in theaters on Earth Day?

Yeah, neither did anyone else, apparently. Or at least, anyone that I've talked to. I accidentally came across an advertisement for it on a website I was on, or I'd have no clue. But then, I have no idea what movies are out, since we don't really watch TV.

But anyway.

Oceans came out last Thursday in honor of Earth Day. I'm not the biggest supporter of Disney, but I thought that was kind of cool. I took Chloe to see it this afternoon, a big-girl's date with Mom.

The verdict? It was awesome. We both loved it. Now, I'm not sure every kid would love it - many would probably be bored to death. But I'm the mother of a child who is fascinated and enthralled with animals, and so this was right up her alley.

Other thoughts:

*It's amazing that anyone could catch all of that stuff on film. I have immense respect for the two guys that filmed it.

*Listening to Pierce Brosnan talk for an hour and a half makes the whole movie worthwhile.

*Watching birds eat baby sea turtles almost made me cry. Seriously. Did you know that only about one in a thousand baby sea turtles actually makes it to sea to live it's life? The rest are snacks for big, mean birds.

*I had to ask my daughter, more than once, what kind of animal it was that we were looking at. And she could tell me. I'm not sure if I ought to be ashamed, or proud.

*I never thought I'd be the kind of person who watches documentaries for fun. That would make me a dork. But I do, so I am.

*I can't believe how flipping expensive it is to go to the movies. I haven't been to the theater since the first Twilight came out (a year and a half ago?) I'm glad going to the movies isn't something I make a habit of, because the cost is outrageous. Thankfully, this one could be passed off as educational, which makes me feel a bit less guilty.

Green stuff

It's wild asparagus season again.



We'll just eat this fresh - steamed, grilled, in soup, and raw on top of salads.

We're still eating salad twice a day. This is what I harvested yesterday - I'm getting this much about every other day now.

The girls are over that initial novelty of eating salad fresh-picked from the garden. They're back to saying things like, "Um, Mom? I'm kind of sick of salad" and "I not like lettuce no more!"

I promise I'll stop showing you pictures of greens... just as soon as something else is ready to harvest. Let's all hope, for the children's sake, that it happens soon.

Actually, I got creative with some of the garden spinach tonight and made manicotti using some elk sausage and farmer's cheese as well.

Try this:
1 1/2 lb farmer's cheese mixed with 1 egg, half a cup or so of grated parmesan, some italian spices like basil and oregano and a handful of chopped spinach, all mixed together til it's creamy. Use a Ziploc bag with the corner cut off (making it like a parchment bag for cake decorating) to squeeze the filling into uncooked manicotti noodles.

Then mix up a red sauce - tomato sauce, paste, crushed tomatoes or diced, whatever you've got, make it pretty soupy - with some onion and sausage or ground beef, garlic and other spices. Put the noodles in a casserole, pour the sauce on top, making sure to cover the noodles completely (this is what makes it possible to start with uncooked noodles.) Then bake it (covered) for 45 minutes or so, put on some grated mozzarella, bake another 10 minutes uncovered to melt the cheese, and you're done. Serve with (more) salad. Manicotti's never been this easy. My children devoured it. Even the salad, because I told them they couldn't have manicotti until their salad was gone. I'm sneaky like that.

Mud - The Compromise

Mud has officially become A Problem at our house.

I love mud. I love kids and mud. I think playing in mud is a perfectly healthy way to spend an afternoon. There are many times that I encourage my children to strip down to their skivvies and play in the mud.

And then, there are times when mud's just not appropriate. Like when we're going to a friend's house in ten minutes. Or when we have to drop the car off at the mechanic. Or when we need to run to the grocery store. Or any other time that Mom says, "Do NOT play in the mud right now."

Chloe struggles with that. There is some innate, magnetic force that draws her to the mud hole in the back yard. I sometimes think she tries to fight it, but simply can't. It's in her veins, this need for mud.

There's a big difference between my oldest and my youngest. The oldest is something of a tomboy. If there is mud in sight, it will take her ten minutes to be covered from head to toe, clothes ruined, hair plastered to her forehead. It is, in her mind, not at all possible to enjoy mud unless it is covering every inch of your body. The youngest is so different - she can spend all afternoon making mud pies (and cakes, and brownies, and smoothies) and have only a little splatter or two on her knees.

So anyway. I got really tired of fighting with Chloe about the mud. We did time outs. I grounded her from the outdoors. I yelled a bit. I lectured. I used words like "disobedient" and "responsible" and the ever-popular "Why can't you just listen to me?!" None of that worked. (Does lecturing ever work on a seven year old?) Every single time she set foot outside, she came back to the door covered in mud.

Today, I had an idea. I got down the weekly calendar that we keep posted on the fridge. On Monday and Wednesday afternoons I wrote "MUD". I showed it to her. Those are the two days each week that she is allowed to play in the mud freely, without having to worry about me being mad. Any other day of the week, I expect her to find some way to play where she stays (reasonably) clean.

Today was Sunday. Not a mud day. We spent four hours in the back yard this afternoon, and when I called the girls in for dinner, they were (for the first time in weeks) both clean.

If this still works in a week, I'll let you know. I'm hopeful. :o)

Bedtime Cuteness

Cora's favorite book to 'read' before bed is a kid's picture dictionary. I always ask if we can read a real story book, but she'd much prefer to look through the dictionary at each picture and talk about them.

We read the 'C' section tonight. It goes something like this:

"That's cat. I like cats. You like cats? Chloe like cats? Daddy like cats? Grammy like cats?"

I answer yes to each of us. And then she says "Awww. That's so nice."

"That's cheese. I lub cheese. You lub cheese? Chloe lub cheese? Daddy lub cheese? Izzy lub cheese?"

If I answer no - because truthfully, I really don't like cheese - she says, "Oh. That's not nice. You not nice to cheese." Then she gives me another chance. "You lub cheese?" I lie. "Awww. That's so nice. You lub cheese now? Cheese your fwaybit*?"

It goes like that on and on through each word. Unless it's something she doesn't like. "Chameleon." "I not like kweelyin. Kweelyin yucky." And that's my cue to move on. If she doesn't like it, she doesn't care what anyone else thinks of it.

I hope this fun bedtime stage lasts for awhile because it's highly entertaining.

*Fwaybit - favorite. In case you aren't fluent in toddler-ese.

Canning Season Begins

I've been procrastinating. It's been strawberry season for a couple weeks now, and until today, I hadn't canned the jam our family would happily subsist on.

See, the thing is, I know once I start canning, I won't be stopping until sometime in October. It's not that I don't like it - actually, I love it - but it can be a LOT of work.



By the end of harvest season, I'll have canned strawberry jam, peach or apricot jam, tomatoes, tomato sauce, salsa, bread and butter pickles, pickled asparagus, tomato soup, peach salsa, peach butter, apple butter, applesauce, apple pie filling, apples, and peaches. And anything else that sounds appealing as the summer progresses and we see what the garden brings. And strawberry jam is always the first, the start of that enormous amount of satisfying but exhausting work.

But when I found a great sale on organic strawberries this week, I knew I had to give in. Besides, my husband actually pouted when he discovered we ran out of strawberry jam a few weeks ago.

The good news is that now that I've got a few years' experience under my belt, canning isn't quite the enormous project it used to be. In fact, we had a triple batch of jam finished by 10:00 this morning.

I say we, because this is now a family project. Even the Littlest One can help mash berries.

I just realized she looks homeless. We didn't bother dressing
her or fixing her hair before starting.

And the seven year old is actually helpful now - not just smooshing, but also stirring as the jam cooks on the stove. (With supervision, but she's gotten lots of stirring practice from our bi-monthly cheese making.)

If you're not sure about canning, jam is a great place to start. Berries, pectin, and sugar, a bit of patience and a big pot of boiling water are all you need. It's pretty straightforward. I use organic raw cane sugar and organic berries, just to make it slightly healthier. (Can jam actually be healthy? Probably not...)



A triple batch should be enough to keep our family's sweet tooth satisfied until this time next year - it works out to about 12 pints. Of course, a few of those will be gifted to good friends and family.

Kid's Gardening - Garden Logic

I read somewhere that a child of four is usually old enough to plant large seeds in a garden bed.

I can't see any reason to wait two more years.



Little One has planted a crop of snow peas, some morning glories, and last night, green beans. She completely grasps the idea that if you plant a small thing in the soil and water it, it will grow a plant with something tasty to eat on it.

The other night after dinner, the girls finished off the last of the Easter jelly beans for dessert. We sat around munching jelly beans and talking garden plans. Then we went out to do the usual weeding and watering in the evening, and the girls went to work digging in their little garden space.

I walked over to check on them, and there was my sweet two year old, oh so carefully poking holes in the dirt, pressing a jelly bean in, then covering it. When she was finished (she planted three of them) she dutifully watered them and explained, "I'm plant jelly beans in my garden."

(I realize this would've made great pictures. I was too interested in watching her to run for the camera.)

===

The garden is coming along nicely. It actually looks a bit more like a garden this month instead of The Ugly Plot of Dirt Along the Back Fence, the way it looked all winter. There are still lots of empty spaces as we wait a few weeks to plant tomatoes, peppers, and other warm weather crops. We're harvesting spinach and salad greens daily, and I used the thinnings from some of the Black Seeded Simpson lettuce to make up a salad with our dinner tonight. In fact, we've been eating salad for lunch and dinner for the past three days. I finally made a honey mustard dressing for the girls just to give them something a bit different.

Radishes are scheduled loosely to be picked tomorrow. We may pick a few, but most are still pretty small and need more time. The turnips that I planted all sprouted, the onions are coming up beautifully, and the carrots are getting their true leaves.

Here are a few photos... I realize they're not beautiful. More than anything, they're for me to compare in a few weeks, when it seems like nothing has grown, because watching plants grow is a slow process requiring patience, a character trait I've never really possessed.

The carrot bed. Those big plants are radishes.
If you look really close, you can see the carrots in there too.

Broccoli appears to actually be trying to grow.
(which is more than I could say for it last year.)
Garlic in the background.

One of the lettuce beds - marveille des quatre saisons,
black seeded simpson, and a red romaine - flame? Can't remember.

Kohlrabi - the larger ones are the first planting, the smaller ones are a few weeks younger.

The spinach, which blogger was kind enough
to automatically flip upside down for me. (?)

The mixed greens, quite obviously
overplanted, which is why we're eating
thinnings each day.

Bridgeport - Dominguez Canyon

Once upon a time ago, Andrew and I hiked this trail. I remembered only vaguely where it was or what it was like, but I remembered a neat little waterfall and some pot holes that I thought Chloe would love to play in. Fast forward four years, and now we have Two Little Girls who both love to play in water!

It ended up being about an hour each way, which isn't so bad. Except that carrying forty pounds of Small Child in a backpack on your shoulders adds to the difficulty level. We convinced my friend Katie to come along with her kids, ages four and one. The water was running a little harder than it had been the last time I'd been there (okay, a lot harder) but we still found a nice little pothole for the kids to splash in.

Creating with ivory

I'm pretty sure most people will think this is gross.

I'm also pretty sure I should think it's gross, except I'm pretty much over that.

Back when my husband had his elk skull mounted, they gave him the ivory teeth along with it. They've since been sitting on my dresser, still kind of nasty looking with bits of dried tissue on them, etc.

I decided I should go ahead and attempt to do something with one of them. The first step was to get all that dried tissue off, which is easier said than done. I tried the most logical thing first - I brushed it with a tooth brush. (The one I use for scrubbing faucets, not my own. Because I know you thought it.) The tooth brush was useless. I even tried it with some Comet. (Hey, it works on faucets.) Comet does not remove dried elk gum tissue. Just for future reference.

I took my dirty, now slightly damp tooth to my neighbor's house. This is an example of just how cool my neighbor is. I can show up at his door with a dirty elk tooth in my hand, and ask him how to clean it, and he doesn't think I'm the least bit odd. In fact, he got kind of excited, whipped out his pocket knife, and in the process of showing me how, pretty much scraped it all clean for me. I brought it home, found my husband's pocket knife, and went to town. Then I sanded it (with nail files. Finally found a use for nail files.) And buffed it. (With a nail buffer.)

When it was all clean and shiny, I took it back to my neighbor and borrowed a file to make notches in each side so the wire I was using wouldn't slide off. I just used some jewelry wire I bought at Michael's. Then I strung it with some ceramic and shell beads on some necklace memory wire. (I have no idea how to bead. I've never really done it. I realize there's an art to it. I probably failed.)

But what I have looks pretty darn cool, it seems pretty sturdy, and now I can proudly wear an elk tooth around my neck.