Help?

Source: etsy.com via Megan on Pinterest

Do I have any friends that can make me something like this?  (And some for the girls?)

A Bit of Patience.

Oh, Patience.

You were sitting on my bedroom floor, telling me all about your day, and you're just so incredibly sweet I took a picture so it would last longer.

Your voice is gentle.  Confident, but never demanding.  Sometimes you are extra quiet when you tell a story- so involved in telling it all that you forget to project so we can hear too.

Last week you told me, "Tons of people ask me what my real name is, I think they think Patience is just what Mr. Yeager calls me to be funny.  Like ten people have asked me that."  You weren't offended by it at all, because you're too secure and matter-of-fact for that- and you like your name- so you said you just tell them Patience is your real name.  And it does fit you very well.

You had your first sleepover last Friday night and it was awesome- but we had to cut it short the next morning because you inexplicably broke out into hives.  I took you to Urgent Care just to be sure we'd covered all the bases, and downloaded the Angry Birds app for you to play while we waited.  (We'd never played it until this weekend.) 

You are very, very good at Angry Birds- you're diligent, logical, methodical, and you love how cute and funny the birds are.  Your sisters get flustered and emotional when the game gets tough.  You just quietly plug on through the levels, like your dad, giggling occasionally at the funny birds and pigs.

In about an hour and a half, your hives had gone down and you'd gotten through to level 19, unassisted.  You got stuck on that level for a while, and after several attempts out of nowhere you blurted out, "AGH!  THAT PIG IS SO WELL-PROTECTED!"

We googled it and you got through no problem.

A few weeks ago, your teacher read King Bidgood's in the Bathtub to your class.  He stopped short of the ending and had all of you imagine how you think they finally got the King out of the tub, and write your answers down secretly (none of you had read it before). 

The story is really funny, and escalates in craziness- making you imagine far-fetched crazy scenarios for extracting the king.  Kids came up with ALL KINDS of insane stories- starting the castle on fire to force him out, constructing an army of people to come in scary costumes to scare the king out, etc...

Mr. Yeager said just one person in the class guessed it right- you.

You simply wrote, "I'd unplug the tub."

That speaks volumes about who you are. 

Love you Pinkie Pie.

Welcome to America.

The other day I saw a bumper sticker that read, "Welcome to America- SPEAK ENGLISH".  I was offended, but busy with the kids so I passed it by.  But hours later it came to mind again and instantly tears were streaming down my face- which shocked me.  But I just felt particularly frustrated and hurt- because we are friends with a family who moved here from Africa about a year ago, with absolutely NO English knowledge, and I've seen how incredibly hard it has been for them to learn.  Their children are seemingly effortless in their work to learn English- they've actually begun to forget French completely.  But for the parents, it is very, very hard.  And it is a matter of absolute NECESSITY to learn it, so they can work. 

I'm so impressed with how much they've learned- they are huge role models for me to not ever complain or limit myself about ANYTHING- because they are doing what they have to do, and doing it well, so I can too.  I have learned SO MUCH from the refugee families I've met this year. 

But that bumper sticker implies things that are small-minded, and misinformed.  And now that our good friends are learning English, they'll be able to read it too. 

I don't need to explain why the sticker made me angry.  I just needed to post about it so I can get it out of my mind.  Done.

Day in Autumn
BY Rainer Maria Rilke

After the summer's yield, Lord, it is time

to let your shadow lengthen on the sundials
and in the pastures let the rough winds fly.

As for the final fruits, coax them to roundness.
Direct on them two days of warmer light
to hale them golden toward their term, and harry
the last few drops of sweetness through the wine.

Whoever's homeless now, will build no shelter;
who lives alone will live indefinitely so,
waking up to read a little, draft long letters,
and, along the city's avenues,
fitfully wander, when the wild leaves loosen.

Martha Stewart Prison Apples

I remember back to when Martha Stewart had just left prison and started her talk show, she shared about how she'd get apples from outside on the prison grounds, and carve into them somehow (I think with a plastic fork?) to remove the core, and she'd heat them in the microwave to make a simple baked apple while she was incarcerated. 

That was a really great idea.  Thanks Martha.

In the summer, cold crisp apples sound awesome, any time of day.  Now that it's getting cooler, hot baked cinnamon apples sound really good, any time of day.

I thought I'd share a quick tutorial on my own personal take on what I affectionately call "Martha Stewart Prison Apples".  Or, "M-Stewed Apples" for short.  I only say this in my head- my kids just call them microwaved apples, and no one else ever asks me about it.

1. Take a good apple (Granny Smith's are great for baking this time of year- they hold up well- some reds will fall apart on you).  Cut it into quarters.  Carve out the core, then dice it (I like to leave the skin on).

2.  Put it in a microwave-safe bowl- I use a ramekin when I make this just for myself.  It just has to be big enough to fit the apple, that's all.  Add a tiny bit of water and cover well.

3.  Microwave for 2.5 or 3 minutes- until apples are soft, but not decimated.

4.  Drain off a bit of water if you want, then sprinkle on cinnamon to taste (I, personally, heap on cinnamon).  You can sprinkle on some sugar, too, but I find it's sweet enough as it is.

5.  I mash them up a bit but leave some chunks.  You can do that to taste as well.

It's good.  Go try it.

Pip and the Bear.

Lily left Beary out the other day- Pippen found a good use for him.

Patience on Saturdays.

Me, too.

Until then,

I hope to get some time this weekend to upload pictures, and who knows, even blog some.  Until then, watch this- it's amazing.


Faber Castell from eric yeo on Vimeo.

He created a copy of a Vermeer, with one pen, in one continuous loop- never picking it up.  Incredible right?  What am I going to do with my creativity today?

Homemade Halloween

Jim made these for the girls this week. 

He built them out of old moving boxes, and reinforced them with a wooden frame made from scraps from old projects.  He went out and picked the pink, and sparkly red paint himself at Home Depot (American Girl box in-hand for guidance), and like the rockstar father that he is, spent two nights this week assembling them in the garage.  He built straps (like a backwards backpack) out of old blinds, and they work great-  We're off to a school party in a few minutes...I love that we went the homemade, quirky, imperfectly-charming route with costumes this year...and the girls LOVE it!

THANK YOU DADDY!

Fire and Music

By reading the scriptures I am so renewed that all nature seems renewed around me and with me. The sky seems to be a pure, a cooler blue, the trees a deeper green. The whole world is charged with the glory of God and I feel fire and music under my feet. -Thomas Merton

Lazy Saturday.

Our kids are in MN this weekend with Jim's parents, and we spent our day doing nothing, and something.

We slept in, and had a late breakfast at HyVee.  Went shoe shopping (it wasn't bad). Did things at home.  Drank coffee.  Watched two episodes of This Old House, and some of Ken Burns' new documentary. We went out to find some milkweed so we could attract more Monarchs next year....

Then Jim decided he wanted to go fishing.  So we packed up for that, grabbed some Subway, and took the dogs to the lake.

It was wet, but great.  No bites, that's OK.

Saw a frog with one good leg-  thought of you Gracie.  You would have loved to have seen it.  He had a sad and crazy hop.  He gets around fine.

We came back, and decided we wanted cheesecake for dinner.  We grabbed the essential ingredients at HyVee, and we did, in fact, eat cheesecake for dinner.  Watched another documentary (about Conan), and then Jim watched Tron while I sorted through pictures and listened to the soundtrack to Wicked.

So, it was a lazy Saturday.  We did lots of things, and nothing, and it was great.



Last Fruits.

Thanks!

I got a package from UPS last night.  I'd just gotten a new set of resistance bands from Amazon the day before, and judging from the size of the package I thought they'd messed up and sent me another set, and I was already saying in my head how annoying this was, and now I'd have to straighten it out with Amazon and send it back and.... WAIT.  This wasn't from Amazon at all!  It was from the WB shop...which sells a little silly something I'd just put on a wishlist....

A sweet friend sent me this rad mug in the mail and it absolutely made my week- thank you!



Scarfing

This video has been everywhere this week, and when I saw it a few days ago, I was of course impressed- it's fun, creative, useful, you want to watch it over and over because it's cool and because it's instructional.  The companion tutorials are also really great and helpful.

I wouldn't normally have shared it beyond facebook, but, it has been so fun for the girls, I wanted to remember it.  Last night I showed them the main video (below) and they were instantly like, I have to get a scarf and try this. Which they all did (we have a lot of scarves).

They ended up working through every single tutorial, and to exemplify how great of a teacher she is, my 8, 6, and 5 year old could do almost all of them without help.

Bethel in the Violet Hour

I don't like cemeteries. I know, I know, how weird of me. 

 They don't make me afraid- it's more that they make me uncomfortable, thanks to my vivid imagination. 

I don't like thinking about bodies under my feet.  But I also wonder about who they were, the stories. 

And that is the draw for me.  It's good to force myself to visit them.

I live on the edge of the city, with open spaces a five minute walk from my house, which is nice. 

Last night I went down the road to a familiar cemetery just to see what I'd see.

It's a quiet place, and a particularly sad place.

Whenever I see a cemetery like this I think of Edgar Lee Masters and Spoon River.

And I just found out you can read it all here.