The Non-Napping House, A Lament

It is only October 2nd and it has already begun to feel like a long winter. It has been grey, and dreary, and so windy, and it Will Not Stop raining. I have literally begun to fear this winter in our dark little house.

Emilia keeps putting the cd for A Napping House on repeat in her room, and none of us could hear it for two days because her little brother would (will) not stop screaming at the top of his lungs. First it was because he wanted to listen to Mouse Cookie instead of anything else his sister chose. Then it was because he wanted Skippyjon Jones (Stinky Jones, as he calls him).  Then he just started screaming over everything and anything, as he has been known to do, from time to time...

For 6 miles in the jogger he screamed and bucked his little body all over the place.  First because he dropped a cracker, then because he wanted to go on a hike, then he didn't want his sippy cup of water, then because he wanted some watermelon (which was at home in the fridge), then because he didn't see enough garbage trucks, then because he wanted to go home.  And it is not easy pushing a jogger uphill in the wind (he had a cozy cover over the top) while a child tries to fling himself out onto the road the entire time, thanks.

But wait, there's more... Then he yells 'Mama, you shut your mouth!' while sitting in the shopping cart at PCC, because I would not let him have an entire package of cheese sticks or knock over the beer display.  And all day yesterday this is what I heard: 'I Not Want Be Nice Boy!' He really didn't need to tell me though, as I had gathered as much already.

Anyway, maybe it's the weather, or maybe it's the unpleasant screamer who just won't let up, but in the middle of the night last night, half asleep/half awake, I listened to the rain hit the side of the house and rush down the drain pipe, and I thought of that book, The Napping House.  And in my half-conscious state, I decided that I would spend the day in bed today doing just like the book does -- napping, because it is too rainy outside to do anything else.  My grand plan was to get up and make breakfast, brush every set of teeth, drive to school, and all other imperative activities, but that was it.  Then I would go back to bed and not do anything else at all -- period.  And I was planning to tell everyone I know to stuff it and not come back til next week.

But alas, foiled again.  I suppose I will grab my rain hat and try to find another set of earplugs.

But really?  Methinks it is time to MOVE OUTTA THIS DAMN HOUSE! (Ahem. Pardon that outburst.)

It is too much, I tell you

My little girl has run off to kindergarten.

And then she lost her first tooth.  (She was beaming and positively fit to burst when it came popping out. And the tooth fairy gave her ten whole dollars for it, too, because that is all the tooth fairy had in her wallet at the time.)

And we've started reading great big books together -- books with chapters.  (So far we've done Matilda, Because of Winn Dixie, The Doll Shop Downstairs, and we are half way through with Beezus and Ramona.)

And then she took up cross country at school.

And also soccer.

We bought uniforms, socks (red, white, and navy), tights, school shoes, running shorts, backpacks, PE shoes, sweaters with logos, shin guards, cleats, running shoes, more socks, pencils, colored pencils, glue (both sparkly pink and regular), and the list seems to just keep getting longer.

And we do homework together in the afternoon after school. (This includes writing out letters, cutting out paper things and sorting them into groups, etc.)

And her random drawings at home have drastically changed.  You can nearly tell what they are supposed to be without even asking her.

And she rides her bike now without training wheels, and goes surprisingly fast.

And she has started complaining about eating vegetables, which I hope is a passing phase. Actually, come to think of it, she seems to be complaining a lot more just in general.

And she is a little social butterfly. Once she sees her friends it is all over for the rest of us (me). Hopefully I had the presence of mind to hug the girl ten seconds earlier, because after that it's 'Mama? Mama who? Can't you see I'm busy?!'

And it is all too much, I tell you.

It is a beautiful and amazing thing to watch, really.  It is.  I am so proud of her.  And I am so in love with my little girl that my heart could crack in two. But OH! Oh, how I sometimes need to rest my head against a wall.

It's a Beautiful Day to Love One Another!

...yelled  the mountain biker, to the world in general, while out running this morning. 

Photo (and run) somewhere in Big Cottonwood Canyon.

Pink Champagne + Beef = Bliss

Pink champagne in the afternoon on grandma and grandpa's deck while my sweet boy ('I grandpa's sweet boy! Thank you very much!') is running this way and that trying to catch a bee. ('I going to catch it, that beef!', he informs us.)

The Best Pancake Recipe

3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 large eggs
3 1/2 cups buttermilk
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, melted
Maple syrup
Fresh raspberries or blackberries or whatever

Combine all dry ingredients in a bowl.  Add eggs, buttermilk, and butter.  Stir just until combined.  Heat a griddle.  Once hot, cover with butter, and then scoop batter into however many pancakes will fit on your griddle at one time.  Once they begin to bubble, flip, and cook another minute or so.

Exceptions that work/don't work:
I always cut the recipe in half.
Swapping whole wheat flour makes for fairly flat and depressing pancakes.
Swapping spelt flour is even worse.
If you are out of buttermilk and do not feel like making your own (squeeze of lemon in regular milk, let sit 10 minutes), then use a little less milk. Otherwise you will be back to flat and depressing.
If you are out of buttermilk, kefir is a good, albeit expensive, replacement.
Fresh berries are divine, but sometimes I use frozen.  Once the batter is on the griddle, sprinkle with frozen berries, or banana slices, let sit a bit, and flip.
Left over pancakes freeze perfectly.

(Recipe from: Tom Douglas, Seattle Kitchen, 2001, Morrow Press.)

Rattletrap Cookies (Dark Chocolate, Chia, and Cordyceps)

Yesterday I ran further than I think I ever have in my entire life.  I am quite stellar sometimes.  Yet within ten minutes after getting out of bed this morning, I had managed to take 800 milligrams of ibuprofen and have my feet stepped on by two small (and very unrepentant) children.  And though I was supposed to go running again today, as per my set-in-stone schedule, I instead opted for a very hot and very long shower, followed by a pair of very stretchy and very comfy yoga pants.  (It has been a VERY long past couple of weeks, alright?)

And so, after reading two chapters of Matilda to the girl, I sat down with the boy and we read Rattletrap Car.  (It's one of his preferred favorites, and for very good reason.  It's fantastic.) You know the book... a hillbilly family who just wants to go to the lake for a swim, but the car keeps breaking down the whole way.  Eventually, after using their wits and their beach accoutrements, they fix the car, make it to the lake, and have a downright lovely time swimming. Michael used to laugh at me for my fondness of the book, 'You only like it because you have a great love for hillbillies!  It's really not that great.' Pffft, like it isn't.

Anyway, as we sat reading today, my body feeling achy and tired from my stellar-ness, not to mention getting jumped on by a small child, I couldn't help but relate to the poor old rattletrap car.  'They didn't go fast, but they did go far. They made it to the lake in their rattletrap car...'  I didn't go fast (not really, anyway), but I did go far (just over 11 miles, thank you kindly), and the view of the lake was/is always one of the best.

As for the aptly named cookies... I am, oddly, looking forward to my run tomorrow when I am back in top form -- and most certainly hopped up on a few of these beauties.  I am shocked by how good they are.  Sometimes experimental (flying-by-the-seat-of-your-pants) baking really does pay off!  I would say it was a day well spent.

(Quick disclaimer -- yes, cordyceps are quite nasty and incredibly revolting.  I've been trying to use them in food for the past several months to no great success.  They tasted bitter in everything, and the smell when cooking was like some sort of burnt chocolate.  I kept googling 'how the eff do I mask the hideous flavor of mushroom powder', to no avail.  I was trying to cover the flavor by creating the opposite flavor.  And then it hit me yesterday: if they smell like bitter and burnt chocolate when heat is applied, maybe add actual chocolate -- only a good sort of chocolate.  And there we are!  The flavor of cordyceps is gone!  I promise I could hand a cookie to either child and they would eat it, and then demand another.  Sometimes I am a genius.)

Maybe This Is Why I Don't Sleep Well Anymore

I dreamt last night that I was trying to walk out into the backyard, but walked smack into the sliding glass door instead.  And it really, really hurt.

Resolve

My favorite places in the world tend to be where the people I love best live.  And yet...

I am absolutely in love with Holmes Point.  It has become one of my favorite spots in the whole entire world.  This is where I take my two small ones hiking, play-grounding, and swimming in Lake Washington. This is where Emilia stood this afternoon, shivering in her swimsuit, and wishing she could just go swim out in the middle of the lake.  This is where yesterday Leo saw 'an animal' (a long shiny black beetle) while we were out hiking. This is where Leo exclaimed with the utmost jubilance when he saw the trail end and the grassy parking lot begin, 'I did it!  I did it hike!!!'  This is where Emilia screamed bloody murder one day last week when I pointed out a snake that happened to be a few feet away on the path in front of us.

Lavender & Lemon Scones (How Absolutely Froofy!)

We went lavender picking at Woodinville Lavender last week.  It is the season for Folgate, apparently, which is edible, but not nearly as fragrant as some of the other varieties.  I've got a great big bunch of it in a vase, and every time I walk by, I hope to get a smack of lavender right across my face.  Instead, I get a soft, subtle, very lavender-y, and quite nice scent, really -- but only if I lean in.  On the bright side, it is perfect for culinary purposes.  I've got a list of things in my head to do with the stuff, but so far I've only managed scones.  (I would love to make lavender ice cream and lavender sugar cookies and maybe even infuse one of those oils I smear all over my skin with lavender and (if I only had the wherewithal) my own herbes de Provence.  But alas.)

Anyway, the scones are really incredible.

I've been reaching for this recipe ever since I got bored stiff with Julia Child's buttermilk scone recipe.  Julia's, while perfection itself, has become entirely ho-hum. I've started to prefer the heartier texture of yogurt in the recipe, I love the way they turn a beautiful golden brown in the oven, I love that they aren't too sweet, and I love that the lavender is more fragrant than flavorful.  The five-year-old begs for them for breakfast, and the two-year-old eats them with a big sticky smile (mostly because his is smothered with lemon curd on one half, and honey on the other).  But this is only after he has come to terms with the fact that he cannot actually have syrup for breakfast -- or blueberry muffins, for that matter.  (Every single morning it is the same thing; he climbs all over me in bed, and says as sweetly as he can muster, 'I want SYRUP!  I want BLUEBERRY MUFFINS!)  And there we are.

Overheard This Evening (Otherwise Entitled, Shamed Into Being Hygienic)

'Mama is NOT nasty!  But her running hat is VERY nasty!'
(Well, I never!)