Cold Spaghetti

Youtube is eating my videos and randomly re-categorizing ones as private, so we’re moving on to try Vimeo.

Here is my brother, strummin’ away, while the kids try to destroy listen — compliments of Vimeo.

Uncle Skip Plays for the Kids from Cold Spaghetti on Vimeo.

We don’t dress up for holiday dinners anymore, so there is no more of the tradition of ruining an outfit playing outside. It was just straight up, regular play.

Kate may have inherited my athletic prowess. Just check out how she throws the football…

(What is that football doing behind her in that picture below? Oops.)

The good news is that the fact she can’t keep pants on (note picture above) may be a sign that she somehow missed the voluptuous gene which has been passed down in my family from Mother to Daughter since time immortal.

Will got into the action, too. He even kicked the ball to me a few times.

There was plenty Daddy-tackling.

At some point, I proposed a walk to find pine cones. I figured we could find something crafty to do with them… somewhere in my head are memories of pine cone turkeys, pine cone people, pine cone bird feeders, pine cone holiday decorations, and more. All that thinking of crafty pine cone projects made me start to think all artsy, and I started to play around with the camera. Note Will, my unwilling muse, holding the pine cone… normal picture:

Then the ZOOOOM into the pinecone! I’m all about playing around with the shutter these days.

I also tried the technique with a Japanese maple in my parents’ front yard. The breeze meant that I needed help keeping the branch steady — so I didn’t get to play for all that long, but here’s a sample:

My contribution to my Mother’s usual spread of veggies, turkey breast, and stuffing was Mushroom Gravy. Randy made this for us one Thanksgiving in Blacksburg. The same Thanksgiving my future in-laws came to visit and I decided to make squash soup ahead of time… only to discover that my allergy to pumpkin innerds extended to squash. It was a brilliant plan, really, since everyone was very willing to help out to make the meal — no one wanted the woman with huge, swollen, hive-covered hands touching the food.

Randy’s gravy became the stuff of legend. The recipe, in nearly direct quotation from Randy, goes like this: “Put a LOT of onions, a LOT of mushrooms, and a LOT of oil into a pot. Add some liquid. Let it cook. Add something to thicken it.”

Which is pretty much what I did this year. It was really good, even if this picture makes it look a little funky?

Jen, Mad and Su have Just Posts up for October — these are social justice and activism oriented posts nominated by readers — and I am flattered to be among the offerings. I learned of these through the talented and mellifluous Alejna, who is fun to read not only because of ThThTh, but because she is an endless source of pants-related humor. (Become the mother of a toddler and pants become very funny. Really.) The Just Posts have been a big source of inspiration for me over the last few months and this month’s posts were no different. I loved Jen’s writing about the impact of the tropical storm-related flooding in Belize, which has devastated the rural community she and her husband bought property within and are moving to in January of the coming year. Magpie’s charge inspired me to donate $25 to charity. My own sister-in-law made a strong argument about how the legacy of slavery is still a very real presence to school children attending schools named after slave owners. These are just a few examples.

I enjoy reading the Just Posts because it helps me to connect to others who are aware of the world around us and look for ways to make a difference. A little happy place in the internet.

The beach is my other happy place. So, here are a few pictures from the beautiful Gulf Coast, featuring my favorite kids. Because there is where I want to be right now…

Today was the second Schweitzer Retreat. We decided as a group to hold the retreat at the Louisiana Renaissance Festival, because why not do something fun?

I don’t have a lot of Renn Fest experience. There is a chance I may have attended the gigantic Maryland Renn Fest in high school… perhaps even on a day when said school was occurring… but well, bad memory runs in the family and my parents occasionally stumble on this website when scoring the internet looking for Roseville Pottery. So let’s just say this was my first Renn Fest.

Yes, they did knock each other off of horses. Which is mild compared to what their respective women did to each other after the guys were finished.

Renn Fest folks like putting ‘e’ or ‘th’ behind every word, sometimes using both at the same time. Like the sign so warmly posted at the exit: “Returneth Soon!” They also are strong believers in boob torture.

We had a wonderful time! The costumes worn by the players and visitors (you can rent yer own garb at the door) were always interesting, often stunning, and occassionally hilarious. Our group met in the morning, doing ‘business’ in a tent for a half our or so, and then had more discussion lakeside in the shade of a tree. And about when Erica noticed the foot-long daddy longlegs crawling across my torso? Yeah, I acted totally cool.

Paul and the kids joined up with us around lunch time. They spent a generous part of the morning with woodworkers, where Will asked a hundred questions about furniture making. Really. As it turns out, when Will wakes up at the crack of dawn and we shove him out of our room begging him to melt his brain with tv while we at least sleep until the sun has risen — well, he goes to the front room, turns on PBS, and watches The Woodsmith Shop.

It was news to me, too.

We spent the rest of the day at the village. The kids played some games and enjoyed some shows (Will loved the jousting, Paul loved the jugglers). The coolest thing, though, were these swings:

I was terrified of Kate going on them. But the Swing-guy assured me at a 15-month old was, “like, totally-th fine-th on the ride,” so I softened. Then noticed that Kate had already walked herself through the gate and was jumping up trying to get on to a swing. Let that nervous-ninny-Mommy get in the way of her doing something Will was doing? Ha!

And so I did my best to take pictures of her, sitting cool as a cucumber, floating and spinning around in the chair. Considering how fast they were whipping around with kids in chairs every few feet, I figured that this panning shot was purdy decent.

We also succumbed to stuff. Will was drooling over the swords even before we walked through the gates. So while I was returning from a solo port-a-potty mission, I visited a wood worker. He told me that his products have a 100-year guarantee “against any wooden weaponry.” I explained that his sister’s head was not wooden, so that the guarantee was not going to apply to us, but good to know. Will was our Knight for the rest of the day.

Here they go, off hunting dragons. Or monsters.

We all did our best to boost the economy. Paul fell for a juggling stick and I picked up a bottle of essence oil (gardenia, although the one marked ‘teen spirit’ was tough to pass up). Kate came away with cute butterfly wings and a matching skirt. The lady I bought it from was way cool and showed me a half-dozen ways to repair the wings in the case of a snag. Then she asked me if I was married.

“Yes.”

“Well, the skirt is made from memory elastic. That means your daughter can wear it during the day, and YOU can wear it at night. Men LOVE it.”

See why I thought this woman was cool?

With all the fun shows, jousting, falcons, and shops (er, shoppes?), we were surprised to find that we spent the whole darn day there. We have never spent the whole darn day anywhere with both kids (that I can think of) and that is just about the best compliment I can give any event.

When we got home weary and dusty from our long hour’s drive back, we found that there was a message on the home phone. From my cell phone. Which is at the office of the Louisiana Renaissance Festival, awaiting pick-up.

Damn. Well, at least someone found it and was nice enough to leave it somewhere safe. Looks like we may be headed back to the 16th century sometime this week.

While we were in Central Pennsylvania for my cousin’s wedding, Will went fishing for the first time.  On our first day there, my Uncle Corky brought him to a local creek (after their two-man fishing excursion, Will announced that, while the rest of us call him “Uncle Corky,” Will was going to call him “Uncle Cork”).

Then we all joined them for fishing the day after the wedding.  Including my cousins Stephen and Katelin and my Aunt Roxanne.  Will was without the family uniform (waders) so my Aunt and Uncle set up a special chair for Will to hold court for all the fishes that threw themselves to his mercy.  (I think the final count on this was 6.)

They caught and released each one.  When Will let this one go, it sort of floated along belly-up… whoops.  Then, my Uncle did some magic trick holding the fish still in the running water of the stream bed and after a few seconds the previously doomed fish swam away, just fine.

Will actually caught a small mouth bass.  (I can’t remember the other types of fish Uncle Corky and Stephen were quick to identify on Will’s hook… those guys seriously know their fish).  They helped instruct Will on how to hold the rod, when the reel it in, and when to pull on the line.  They were both incredibly good teachers and really let him do the work.

Will not only got skills in how to fish, but he quickly understood how to discuss the fish you catch.  As shown in the picture below:

Then Stephen stepped in for some one-on-one with Will.

When Will decided that he was “inventing a new way of fishing” involving the net, Stephen went along like a true champ.  He completely and totally earned his status as Will’s nomination for WORLD’S COOLEST GUY.

I think if you look really closely in these pictures, you can actually see Will’s little heart growing BIGGER and BIGGER.

About 10 years ago, my cousin Ellen found this little dog, named her Honey, and took her home to love forever.  Like she has many times before, Honey obediently traveled to Pennsylvania while her Mommy got married.  But unlike past trips, this one meant facing Kate.  For four days straight.

Kate was head-over-heals in love with Honey from the moment she saw her.  Every few minutes, one of us would have to restrain Kate to give Honey enough of a head start to hide from her admirer.

Even from the car, Kate let her intent of being with Honey be known.  Kate quickly recognized the winding road to my Uncle’s house (a charming drive that includes passage on a one-lane bridge) — and from a 1/2 mile range of my Uncle’s house would begin to call HOOOONNNNNNEYYYYYY!!!!!! loud enough to blast the eardrums of anyone else sitting in the car.

The anticipation of seeing Honey! was too much for Kate to hold in.

Kate loved Honey SO MUCH that she even shared her blanket.  She doesn’t even let Elmo share her blanket.

Despite Kate’s foray into the realm of “THAT KID” on Thursday’s flight, we arrived in Pennsylvania to perfect fall weather (73 degrees with 50% humidity?!) and have been having a busy, fun time since.  TODAY, Ellen and Blake got married.  I officiated and photographed.  (Paul took photos during the ceremony.)

Here are a few random ones I pulled while the cards downloaded.  Just so that I can show my face at lunch tomorrow and tell my family members that, yes, in fact, there really was something happening in that camera I kept torturing them with.

Have I mentioned how beautiful central Pennsylvania is?  Uncanny.

Kate also had her wedding debut.

More pictures when we get back Monday!

I knew they were tourists before we climbed inside.  Even with Will boldly clutching the $2.50 for the driver, I was still weighed down with a large tote bag, stroller, and Kate, all in my arms.  If they were from here, I wouldn’t have so much as put one foot onto the unfolded step before someone soundlessly took an object from me to help us on board.  It’s just the way things happen here.

Eventually the kids and I stumbled into the Streetcar and rambled down the isle to an open seat.  Two open seats, actually, as the kids took turns hopping between empty benches on each side of the isle, changing with each stop.  It is July in New Orleans and it is hot: both kids wanted the breeze from the open windows and to be out of the sun.  Their seat experimentation was just them working to find the coolest space available.

“This area doesn’t look like it got hurt by the storm,” the lady in front of me says.  “Oh, right,” her companion incorrectly chimes in, “but the Garden District got it real bad.”  Definitely tourists.  I am about to ask them where they are from, to chat them up and welcome them here, to be that friendly spot of hospitality one expects here for good reason.  But then the stroller I’ve laid beside our seat comes to smack me in the shin; the companion sitting in front of me is pushing it back, away from where one end has rolled into her personal space.  I decide to say nothing, listening instead to the women periodically comment on the “interesting” and “unusual” and occasionally “beautiful” architecture that unfolds before us as we roll along the tracks.

Finally, we turn the corner to Carrollton Avenue, where the Streetcar driver announces: “End of St. Charles, Carrollton Avenue, Camilla Grill!”  Everyone around us gets ready to depart.

One of the women asks, “Isn’t this it?  Camilla Grill?  Is this where we go?”  She is looking around as if her expectations weren’t quite being met.

“I’m not sure.  I guess so.  Everyone else is,” her friend answers.

Then Will, who has been silently looking out the window snaps to attention.  “Get a Cheeseburger.  They’re the best here.”  He says it right to the women, who take a moment to realize from where this sage advice has come.

“Really?” the first woman responds, “cheeseburgers?”

“And a chocolate milkshake,” Will remembers.

“Cheeseburger,” Kate adds.

For a split second I find myself wistfully wanting a third child, one who would pipe up and offer that last bit of important advice, “and get it dressed.”

For the past two weekends, we have attended Baybears baseball games, where your ticket comes with two free hot dogs.  Kate was into the hot dogs.  You mention baseball, she’ll channel Yello and in that ‘oooh yeaah’ voice, will tell you HOT DOOOOGGGG.

Click on the audio link below to hear Kate discuss baseball over dinner.  (I’ve taken to audio capture dinner, since it’s when she talks the most.)  Listen for the HOT DOG at around 2:50.

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But, as Kate points out in her discussion, there are more than hot dogs with the Baybears.  You could also be one of the lucky kids to get a coupon for a free taco by chasing the giant taco across the field between innings.

Popcorn and drinks have free refills.  And if some random football player that I’ve never heard of (which means any past or present footballer) can throw the pigskin out of the park, everyone gets a coupon for a free Hardee’s sausage biscuit.  Folks in Mobile are serious about their junk food.

I got in a little sports photography.

And a few of the kids, when we weren’t wrestling Kate or keeping Will from ODing on diet Pepsi.  (I did do the good Mommy thing and bring smuggled in drinks for the kids… they just didn’t last long.)

Kate.

After a ‘tribute to the services’ where each branch of service has their musical moment and standing recognition, there are fireworks.  Pretty darn decent fireworks, all things considered.  I didn’t have the tripod the first week.  But I was able to get Kate’s face lit up from the explosions reflecting on the glass.  The first weekend this was possible because there weren’t as many people in the stands.  The second week, with the tripod, they let me on the field during the fireworks, but there were too many people to really get what I wanted… which was more of this picture below, just better.

Here’s Paul and Will.  BOOM.

The weekend of the Fourth, Emily and Skip were in town!  Will was Uncle Skip’s Mini-Me.

I had the tripod and was able to get some standard fireworks shots… but there were too many people to get the crowd shot I wanted.  I like this one because it reminds me a bit of the final home run in ‘The Natural’.

This is the best I could do at getting everyone’s faces lit up by the fireworks.

The last three weeks.

We had a week-long visit from:
Nana. Who brought presents, time, patience, and recipes. The day she left, Kate wandered around calling “Naaaaa-Naaaah, Where ARE youuuuuuu?” (Subtext: “Save me from these crazy people!”)
Having a third adult in the house was a huge relief. It was also well-timed, because the day she left and returned us to a house of two adults, we downloaded a child.

He was thrilled to be spending almost a week away from home, his parents, and his particularly his sister. In Will’s words: “Mommy, I needed a break from that crazy girl. She’s too much for me.” I dropped Will off with my Mom in Gulfport (our half-way meeting place) and he joined Granna and PapPap on a trip to visit my brother and sister-in-law. (My incredible sister-in-law, who by all accounts spent 5 hours a day on the floor re-reading the same books and cards so patiently to the-ever-curious-Will, has posted adorable photos from the trip.)

While Will was away from home for the longest time ever, Paul turned 38 on May 5th. This is remarkable only because I told at least 3 people that he was turning 36. I also wrote that I was 30 on a doctor’s form a few months ago and only realized the mistake because “date of birth” and “today’s date” were close enough together to make me do the math. I’m not forgetting little things, I’m actually forgetting years. It must mean that it’s time for us to have some sort of life crisis.

Also on Cinco de Mayo, our friends Alex and Dawit were married. (The wedding date was chosen because it’s Alex’s birthday, too.) In between a day of picking up tiles, switching cars, dropping off kids, and buying paint, I took photos of the event and you can see them here.

Meanwhile, back at the station, the house continues.

Drywall took a long time. There were delivery problems. Supply problems. And daily layers of drywall dust… dirty, gritty, drywall dust… ALL OVER the bedrooms and hallway each evening to mop, dust, polish, and wash off. And, we’re back to no washer and dryer. Still, the crew (comprised of a husband and wife) did a very good job.

Here’s the site of the future cat-door to Scout’s litter-box “room” under the washer and dryer.
Outside, Paul spent a good 20 hours on the roof over 2 days. It’s done, although these pictures show it as still-in-progress.

Now that it’s done, I’m thinking we may finally be able to remove the ever-present can of Goo Gone from our shower?
We discovered that Kate can work the garden hose. WATCH OUT.
Note that Will’s head is soaking wet. Coincidence with that last picture? I think not.
Kate also discovered an obsessive love of ice. Workers (read: Daddy) must carefully guard their precious cups ice water, lest it be plundered by the Sweet Pea with the dirty hands.
Also: Kate loves Crabby Jack. Oysters. Shrimp. And duck. (Domilise’s for Roast Beef, though, of course.)
Kate turned 2 and got presents. Including ELMO UNDERWEAR from Gwen & Co. Here she is, putting on Every Single Pair.
And dancing.
My Fellowship Year officially began with our Orientation Retreat. At first it was going to be an overnight event, but it was shortened to a Really Long Day in Baton Rouge. Who knew the LSU campus was so darn pretty??? The group is inspiring and interesting; I left the day feeling an unexpected excitement for the coming year. We did a variety of team-building exercises, including ropes. I surprised myself by having fun, and realizing that my recently-developed fear of heights is more extreme than I thought. I was Very Impressed with the folks that climbed the 60 foot pole, stood up, and jumped for the trapeze. Here’s Jonathan, the only one to touch the bar, in one of my favorite pictures from the day:
This one of Kemi is probably my favorite:
Meanwhile, back at the station, drywall finished. Tile started.
Tomorrow, the base of the washer/dryer platform will be grouted and trimmed… so we’re hoping to have these back by Wednesday?Paul ALMOST finished the plumbing today while I wrangled kids and house. The tub plumbing is hooked up and tested perfectly. The ONE LEAK in his intricate shower plumbing? It wasn’t from a failed joint… it was a failed PIPE.
The darn elbow had a crack and hole. When Paul went to Lowe’s to get another elbow, he came home with the wrong kind. When he went back to trade, they were closed. As was Home Depot. Plumbing to Paul is like Cryptonite to Superman. Utterly defeated and forced to wait until the morning… because, after all, tomorrow is another day.