Best NYE Ever!
I had very young parents and grandparents growing up, so on NewYears Eve, I was often left in the hands of my maternal great-grandmother. My parents often hosted a party at the"camp" which my Papa had built just a few hundred yards from our houses and my grandparents always did something fancy. At least it always seemed that way to me.
As I (and she) got up there in age, Grammie Foster was there more for the token adult presence than to actually do any of the babysitting chores. I remember my mom would make us special food so we could have a party ourselves. We'd get to have Doritos, sparkling grape juice and use special "wine" glasses - which my mom gave to me (because they are red and match my decor) and I keep in the china cabinet in my house. I imagine that at one time there must have been more than five of them, but since there were only four of us girls, any more than that didn't register with me.
One of our most favorite things to do was to take all of the cushions off the couches, chairs, etc., and play "Queen." Which meant we would stack up all of those cushions into "thrones" and sit on them.
And Grammie Foster always drank coffee. Taster's Choice instant coffee. Probably a half dozen cups a day. I remember her having the tiniest stove/oven combo I had ever seen. It couldn't have been more than 24" wide - maybe even smaller. I don't know how she cooked anything in that oven. And she had the best refrigerator. It was a really OLD one - the kind that had a latch handle that you pulled open and the freezer had a small metal box for the metal ice trays - which were stuck in the ice compartment because it wasn't a frost free model. I don't know if she ever defrosted it while I was alive. She didn't do much cooking for herself. I know my Grammie would bring her "leftover"meals and Grammie Foster's favorite thing to do was to go to the Super Duper grocery store and buy friend chicken or other prepared items from the deli for her supper.
Funny how once you start thinking about something, the memories just pop up!
Anyway, to my recollection, I never remember spending New Years Eve with my parents. That was the one night a year they really went all out. When I was very young, they often went to a local bar to celebrate. There used to be a place in my hometown called the "SQ" or "The Susquehanna House." It burned down when I was in Junior High, but I know my parents and their friends spent many a New Years celebrating there. That was back when people were allowed to smoke anywhere and many of their friends smoked too, so I remember them coming in to kiss us and tell us "Happy New Year" smelling like the bar. It's funny how smells can envoke memories too because I remember after turning 21 going out for the first time with my college friends - how when I got back to my apartment, I could smell that combination of smoke and alcohol on my clothes and in my hair and thinking, "I smell like my parents on New Years Eve!" Can I tell you how jealous I am that "kids" these days don't have to experience that unpleasantness. I am not and have never been much of a drinker, so I hated the fact that I smelled like the bar even though I was just an observer. I never understood how my sorority sisters just came home from the bar and fell asleep. I always had to shower that smell off me.
Erik and I really aren't the partying type. I think the only year we actually went "out" for New Years Eve was the year we got married. We flew to Punta Cana on December 31 and the resort where we stayed had a huge NYE celebration. Since then we've either stayed home or gone to a friends house - oh and six years ago, we went to NYE wedding. That was pretty cool. (Erik and I actually wanted to have our wedding NYE but were talked out of it by our parents.) This year we decided to host a little get together and we had the best time. We invited over a few couples and their children and laughed and talked and watched the kids play. It was great. We ate way too much food (or at least I did) and the kids had the best time playing. Such an imaginitive group we had. They hunted, played baby dolls, and ended the night playing "Harry Potter." I'm not really sure what that game entailed, but I heard some British accents and saw a lot of wand waving. There was also a lot of trying to explain the "ball drop." We basically got to the point where the kids didn't really get it so we played the "Nevermind, just forget about it" parenting card.
After a minimal amount of clean up, I was lying in bed reflecting on the the previous year and the blessings in my life. Our precious Whitaker was born.
These three continue to grow and show their unique and wonderful personalities.
We have our health and we're happy. What more could we ask for?
A friend posted on her blog, "Life Under a Blue Roof" that she doesn't really like making resolutions so instead, she was going to "envision" things she wanted to accomplish in the New Year. I really like that idea because resolutions are well, kind of resolute. I prefer to go for a more casual approach - that way if I don't achieve my resolution, I don't feel so bad.
My vision for 2011:
1) I will make and stick to a daily meal plan. I did that last year and it was wonderful. You can read about it here: Creating a Meal Calendar.
2) I will organize my photos into files and save those files on my new external hard drive! My mac is awesome and you can barely tell I have over 5000 photos stored on my hard-drive, but I need to get the photos organized, and stored. I'll also load those files to a web-based site like flickr (snapfish, shutterfly, or other photo sharing site will work too) so that if my hard drives ever crash, I can access those photos again.
3) I will commit to getting to the Y five days a week. Even if this means going on Saturday mornings by myself!
4) We will carve out time to do even more fun things as a family that don't involve farm related activities. My children find that stuff fun but it's time to expose them to a few novelties - going to the movies, maybe roller skating or ice skating . . . bowling. We just never did those things before because our kids weren't at the age to enjoy them. Now they are and I think it will be so much fun to expose them to those activities!
5) Plan and actually go on some some sort of family vacation!
6) Realize that these things are all just a small part of life. It would be great to achieve them, but if they don't get done, that's OK too. My kids are not going to be scarred for life if I don't get them to a movie theater. We don't have to go on vacation to have quality family time together and create memories.
Each day is a gift and my biggest goal will be to remember that and appreciate it.
And to thank God each day for it.
Happy Anniversary
Today is my Ninth anniversary.
I have a poor memory. I cannot recall memories the way others can. I remember things through pictures and I remember feelings, but I don't remember events well. I think it is strange because my mom has amazing recall on so many things. I wish I had her talent because I remember very little from my youth -even the last nine years, with so many things I want t remember, I don't.
I remember only one thing vividly about our wedding day. Well, I guess not just one thing, but this memory has come to be significant.
A little back story first:
When Erik and I were dating, it was such a whirlwind romance that we would often just stop and say to each other, "What were you doing last year at this time?" We met November 17, 2000, were "pre-engaged" in February 2001,(you can read the story of our pre-engagement here) engaged June 2001 and married December 29, 2001.
Earlier in the day, I had given a grooms gift to my soon to be brother in law to give to Erik. It was a pocket watch and I included a card saying, "What were you doing last year at this time?"
We had an early evening wedding - 4:00 p.m. I really don't remember much about the day other than my girlfriend and sorority sister, Irene, had to wake me up on my wedding day. I remember her shaking me, "Wake up! You're getting married!" Irene was my Matron of Honor.
I don't remember this moment, but I LOVE the way the photo shows off the detail of my wedding gown!
Entering our reception.
The last photo we would have with my Grammie.
Our "goodbye" shot.
Almost all of our guests!
My first boys giving a kiss to their old, "Miss Jen." The boy on the left is a sophomore at CMU. The boy on the right is a senior in High School. I met them when they were about 2 and 4 years old.
I have a poor memory. I cannot recall memories the way others can. I remember things through pictures and I remember feelings, but I don't remember events well. I think it is strange because my mom has amazing recall on so many things. I wish I had her talent because I remember very little from my youth -even the last nine years, with so many things I want t remember, I don't.
I remember only one thing vividly about our wedding day. Well, I guess not just one thing, but this memory has come to be significant.
A little back story first:
When Erik and I were dating, it was such a whirlwind romance that we would often just stop and say to each other, "What were you doing last year at this time?" We met November 17, 2000, were "pre-engaged" in February 2001,(you can read the story of our pre-engagement here) engaged June 2001 and married December 29, 2001.
Earlier in the day, I had given a grooms gift to my soon to be brother in law to give to Erik. It was a pocket watch and I included a card saying, "What were you doing last year at this time?"
We had an early evening wedding - 4:00 p.m. I really don't remember much about the day other than my girlfriend and sorority sister, Irene, had to wake me up on my wedding day. I remember her shaking me, "Wake up! You're getting married!" Irene was my Matron of Honor.
I remember just before walking down the aisle, I was left all alone in the hallway adjacent to the church entrance. It was the first time in days I had been completely alone. I hadn't been emotional at all - I was too happy to cry! But as I stood there alone and waited, I started to get a little overwhelmed, and just as the tears started to come, my dad peeked around the corner and put his left arm up as if checking his watch and then tapped it as if to say, "Come on! You're going to be late." That made me laugh and he extended his arm and we headed to the doors of the church for him to walk me down the aisle.
I remember that Erik managed to put my ring on the correct hand. And I put mine on his RIGHT hand. Then throughout the unity candle lighting and song, we laughed and laughed because we couldn't get the ring off his right hand and on his left hand. We joked that we weren't officially married because of that!
I remember being moved by the message Erik's mentor, Jim Cossin, gave. I remember him saying something along the lines of us being a good match - you could see that I was calm and collected and that Erik couldn't stand still. Which he couldn't - he was a nervous nellie standing up there shifting back and forth and twitching. It was so beautiful to have someone who knew Erik so well from his youth speak about his growth into a man. It was such a great honor to have Jim part of our ceremony.
I don't remember this moment, but I LOVE the way the photo shows off the detail of my wedding gown!
Our wedding party
My Maid of Honor and childhood best friend, Keely.
We're wed! Leaving the church. Everyone was supposed to light their sparklers but I think they were so short, they burned too fast!
Entering our reception.
Cutting the cake.
As much of an eyesore as it is, I'm so grateful this clock was in the picture. I now know forever that at 8:27 on Saturday, December 29, 2001, we were cutting our cake and feeding each other.
The groomsmen dressed up for YMCA.
Almost all of our guests!
My first boys giving a kiss to their old, "Miss Jen." The boy on the left is a sophomore at CMU. The boy on the right is a senior in High School. I met them when they were about 2 and 4 years old.
Anyway, the whole point of this story is that I vividly remember being pronounced man and wife and walking out of the church. As we did, I happened to look up at the clock in the church and the clock said 4:34. After so many months of planning, and so much time waiting, our actual marriage ceremony only took 34 minutes! It didn't feel like it had happened so fast, but there it was, proof that it only took 34 minutes to make it official.
I think of that often as the days, weeks, months and years pass. I look at my little family and reminisce about how fast these past nine years have gone - and get scared about how fast the next nine years are going to go. I wonder if Erik and I will be sitting in rocking chairs in our front porch (in my future, I imagine we have actually completed the exterior of our house and we do finally put on a front porch) and saying, "What were we doing 20, 30, 50 years ago at this time?" And we'll remember how we were afraid Walker would have malformed feet because he would kick his heels on the floor so hard anytime he laid on his back. We'll remember how Maggie bossed her brothers around from the minute she could speak. How we thought Will was going to get us arrested for child abuse because every time we turned around he was running into chairs, doors, walls, trees - and we'll remember how pleasant Whit was as a baby. How the only time he ever cried was when he was tired or hungry.
And we'll remember the love. We have all of these memories and so many more to come, all because two people fell in love.
A Baby Changes Everything
It about an hour, I will officially be 35. My mom told me yesterday on the phone that she would talk to me at my birth time as she has done for as long as I have been old enough to be awake at 1:11 am. When I lived with her, she would wake me up and say, "It's your birthday!" or in recent years she calls or texts me. As old as I am, I still love hearing my birth story. How my parents had gone to a high school basketball game and my grandparents were away for the night. My mom realized her water broke and they waited at my grandparent's house for them to get home. Then she will tell me about the drive to the hospital - how my Papa had a new Lincoln with power windows - a very new technology in 1975 - and my dad got pulled over for speeding and couldn't figure out which button to push to get the drivers window down and my Grammie hollered at the police officer and they ended up with a police escort. I was born a tiny little thing, 5 lbs 14 oz. and the nurses brought me to my mom for the first time in a stocking.
I hope in the last 35 years, I've been able to prove to be a little bit better than the coat. Seeings how I'm still around and the coat is long gone I guess I can make the assumption I won out as the better gift.
As you head into Christmas Eve and your celebrations, I urge you to give thanks for the babies that have changed your lives and to take time to honor the baby that changed the world.
Luke 2:1-7
2:1 In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. 2 (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) 3 And everyone went to his own town to register.
4 So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. 5 He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. 6 While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, 7 and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
MERRY CHRISTMAS May you rejoice on the blessings of the past year and may the new year be doubly blessed!
Then she tells me about Christmas and how my Grammie brought all of her presents to the hospital and she got a gorgeous white coat. And she still isn't sure which was the better present, me or the white coat. As silly as that tradition seems at my age, it connects me to my mom in a special way. At 1:11 am on December 24, the years melt away and we reconnect at the heart.
I hope in the last 35 years, I've been able to prove to be a little bit better than the coat. Seeings how I'm still around and the coat is long gone I guess I can make the assumption I won out as the better gift.
As you head into Christmas Eve and your celebrations, I urge you to give thanks for the babies that have changed your lives and to take time to honor the baby that changed the world.
Luke 2:1-7
2:1 In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. 2 (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) 3 And everyone went to his own town to register.
4 So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. 5 He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. 6 While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, 7 and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
MERRY CHRISTMAS May you rejoice on the blessings of the past year and may the new year be doubly blessed!
For Proprietary Reasons
For Proprietary reasons, I cannot go into detail about what we did today but it involved this:
There were a lot of people standing around. (Seemed like an awful lot of people doing nothing if you ask me).
And these hoodlums found joy in rolling down the hill. By hill, I mean slight grade to the park road. I'd be lying if the crew didn't find those kids entertaining. And I got the best birthday present ever when several of the crew told me that I had the most well behaved children. I did have to look around a few times to see if the person was addressing me. No, I did not drug them or bribe them either. I may have threatened to phone Santa and tell him to give their presents to some other little kids if they didn't put forth their best behavior, but I didn't drug or bribe them. Psychological intimidation is a lost art.
The guy in the black coat is a big -time director. At least to us. He was super nice and talked to Erik the whole day. I kind of got the feeling that all the while he was asking us about the farm and what we do, he was kind of panicking in the back of his mind that we were crazy FARM people and he wondered what we were truly capable of. The guy in the tan coat - owned the production company, I think. He's totally bald under that hat. I don't know why I pictured him as having a head of dark brown, curly hair that has been cut so that it doesn't look curly, but you can tell by the texture it's curly. Totally surprised when we got to lunch and saw him take off his hat. He has four kids too and is expecting a grandchild in January. His youngest is 21. I swear the guy didn't look old enough to have kids much older than ours. He was super nice and so pleasant about us hanging around and the hoodlums rolling all over the place.
These hoodlums continue to goof off . . .
"Maggie." (she looks up in the sky) "Maggie May" (she looks across the lawn at the playground) . . . . "MARGARET MAY! THEY ARE TALKING TO YOU!" (Turns and looks at me with a DUH face)
"What Momma?"
Another fine parenting moment.
In the meantime, my disclaimer: No children or animals were harmed in the writing of this blog post . . . Yet.
Making A List, Checking It Twice . . .
No, I'm not talking about Santa.
I'm talking about me. Yes, I confess, (because you probably hadn't already guessed) I am a list maker. My lists even have lists. Seriously, I have lists with sublists. My lists look more like the outline to a doctoral thesis with all the bullets, Roman numerals and footnotes!
I've been spending a lot of my time at my computer making lists to prepare for a Christmas Open House. I've got my household to do lists, food lists, and my to do "wish" items - those things I really want to have done, but probably won't because other items on my lists are a priority.
Another list that is in constant progress is my "gift" list - where I'm tracking items I've thought of buying for people as gifts, crossing off items I've purchased, and the homemade gift list which includes the directions for making the homemade items, the materials list, and to whom the item will be given!
Are you as crazy as me yet??
Tonight, one of the homemade gifts I'm working on is my annual year in review photo slideshow DVD. Not only am I sorting photos (so thankful for the digital age and the ease of sorting through photos in my folders on the computer) and then searching my itunes database for songs to go with the slideshow. My song choices usually include songs the children have loved from the radio or church and songs I think will evoke emotion from the viewers. For instance, I spent a few minutes tonight searching for this song which the kids are singing with the choir at church Sunday. They had their first practice with the grown up choir today and it really stirred me so this will be the song that ends the slideshow.
Will
Me and my babies.
Walker, Taylor, Chet, Maggie, Will
Now back to my lists.
I'm talking about me. Yes, I confess, (because you probably hadn't already guessed) I am a list maker. My lists even have lists. Seriously, I have lists with sublists. My lists look more like the outline to a doctoral thesis with all the bullets, Roman numerals and footnotes!
I've been spending a lot of my time at my computer making lists to prepare for a Christmas Open House. I've got my household to do lists, food lists, and my to do "wish" items - those things I really want to have done, but probably won't because other items on my lists are a priority.
Another list that is in constant progress is my "gift" list - where I'm tracking items I've thought of buying for people as gifts, crossing off items I've purchased, and the homemade gift list which includes the directions for making the homemade items, the materials list, and to whom the item will be given!
Are you as crazy as me yet??
Tonight, one of the homemade gifts I'm working on is my annual year in review photo slideshow DVD. Not only am I sorting photos (so thankful for the digital age and the ease of sorting through photos in my folders on the computer) and then searching my itunes database for songs to go with the slideshow. My song choices usually include songs the children have loved from the radio or church and songs I think will evoke emotion from the viewers. For instance, I spent a few minutes tonight searching for this song which the kids are singing with the choir at church Sunday. They had their first practice with the grown up choir today and it really stirred me so this will be the song that ends the slideshow.
The year in review slideshow is one of my favorite projects to do. I love going back through my photo files to see how much the children have changed and grown. I also hate seeing how much the children have changed and grown.
This week has been filled with a lot of nostalgia for me. Remembering what we did last year at this time. It really is amazing how fast this year went.
So, a few pics of where we were last year at this time.
Maggie
The Golden Geese
I've commented pretty frequently on this blog that my life hasn't really turned out like I thought it would. I guess that's a pretty common theme among bloggers. In fact, The Pioneer Woman has marketed an entire career from that premise. The latest installment of "Life Unexpected" is so outlandish, you really have to read this to believe it.
So you know I mention (complain) sometimes about the menagerie of animals we have here on the farm. Birds of all sorts, although not our primary production animal here at Goodness Grows Farm, are everywhere. Most of them, sadly, living out the ends of their lives not knowing that their journey to Goodness Grows Farm is a death sentence.
As somewhat of a back story as to how we have so many birds, I think I've blogged pretty extensively about the Burmese that come here and buy chickens, ducks, etc. for their own consumption. Well, about a year ago, through our website, a young chef, Kevin, contacted Erik about Goodness Grows becoming a direct supplier for all of his needs. At the time, Kevin was preparing to open a specialty food market in the newPittsburgh Public Market In The Strip. Kevin met with Erik and they discussed the specialty meat products that were to be sold at Crested Duck Charcuterie and a great relationship was formed. Kevin now regularly buys a wide variety of product from us. As a result of this arrangement, some of the product Kevin needs for Crested Duck are not always available to us through our traditional farmer contacts or at the various auctions Erik attends so when he has the opportunity to acquire something rare, Erik buys large quantities. One such animal is the goose. The Crested Duck provides fresh, farm raised meats including elk, bison, venison, duck, goose, rabbit, goat and more. In addition, we are offering an exciting array of creations including galantines, pates, terrines, roulades and rillettes as well as accompanying jellies, jams and relishes. Utilizing traditional 15th century methods for preparing and preserving meats, our charcuterie uses locally sourced products that are hand crafted in small batches to guarantee freshness.
Fast forward a few months, Kevin has successfully launched the Crested Duck and we have learned that geese are not always a sure thing at an auction, so over the late summer and early fall, Erik acquired about a dozen geese in anticipation of Kevin's usual needs as well as in preparation of "Christmas Goose." In case you wondered, geese are noisy creatures! They are almost as noisy as roosters in the morning and all day long you can hear them snorting and snuffing through the farmyard feeding. They pretty much keep to themselves and most of the time I'm unaware of them except for when I forget that we have that many geese and I look up in the pasture and wonder for a few seconds what in the world all those brown and white things are dotted across the pasture. This isn't the post to go into how being a mom has affected my brain.
The majority of our geese are the African Geese as shown in the picture above, but we also have two buff geese who are not part of the Christmas Dinner flock and are just our farmyard friends.
Well, you know how Erik knows everyone and if he doesn't know them personally, he knows someone who knows them? I mean, this is the man that ran into someone he knew on our honeymoon . . . in Punta Cana, Domincan Repulic! He's like the Kevin Bacon of Butler. I'll bet we could play a game, "Six Degrees of Erik Schwalm." Last week, around Thanksgiving. Erik tells me he has had the strangest phone call. A guy Erik met through a friend knows a girl who is working on a commercial in Pittsburgh and she is looking for a flock of geese for the commercial. The friend gave our name and one week later, the trainer from the National Aviary arrived this afternoon to pick up all the geese to try to train some of them.
Apparently, we did not provide our geese with the appropriate skill set. For the commercial, the skills required are to take a white bread sandwich out of someone's hands, and the other skill is to fish a set of keys out of a purse.
So you know I mention (complain) sometimes about the menagerie of animals we have here on the farm. Birds of all sorts, although not our primary production animal here at Goodness Grows Farm, are everywhere. Most of them, sadly, living out the ends of their lives not knowing that their journey to Goodness Grows Farm is a death sentence.
As somewhat of a back story as to how we have so many birds, I think I've blogged pretty extensively about the Burmese that come here and buy chickens, ducks, etc. for their own consumption. Well, about a year ago, through our website, a young chef, Kevin, contacted Erik about Goodness Grows becoming a direct supplier for all of his needs. At the time, Kevin was preparing to open a specialty food market in the newPittsburgh Public Market In The Strip. Kevin met with Erik and they discussed the specialty meat products that were to be sold at Crested Duck Charcuterie and a great relationship was formed. Kevin now regularly buys a wide variety of product from us. As a result of this arrangement, some of the product Kevin needs for Crested Duck are not always available to us through our traditional farmer contacts or at the various auctions Erik attends so when he has the opportunity to acquire something rare, Erik buys large quantities. One such animal is the goose. The Crested Duck provides fresh, farm raised meats including elk, bison, venison, duck, goose, rabbit, goat and more. In addition, we are offering an exciting array of creations including galantines, pates, terrines, roulades and rillettes as well as accompanying jellies, jams and relishes. Utilizing traditional 15th century methods for preparing and preserving meats, our charcuterie uses locally sourced products that are hand crafted in small batches to guarantee freshness.
Fast forward a few months, Kevin has successfully launched the Crested Duck and we have learned that geese are not always a sure thing at an auction, so over the late summer and early fall, Erik acquired about a dozen geese in anticipation of Kevin's usual needs as well as in preparation of "Christmas Goose." In case you wondered, geese are noisy creatures! They are almost as noisy as roosters in the morning and all day long you can hear them snorting and snuffing through the farmyard feeding. They pretty much keep to themselves and most of the time I'm unaware of them except for when I forget that we have that many geese and I look up in the pasture and wonder for a few seconds what in the world all those brown and white things are dotted across the pasture. This isn't the post to go into how being a mom has affected my brain.
The majority of our geese are the African Geese as shown in the picture above, but we also have two buff geese who are not part of the Christmas Dinner flock and are just our farmyard friends.
Well, you know how Erik knows everyone and if he doesn't know them personally, he knows someone who knows them? I mean, this is the man that ran into someone he knew on our honeymoon . . . in Punta Cana, Domincan Repulic! He's like the Kevin Bacon of Butler. I'll bet we could play a game, "Six Degrees of Erik Schwalm." Last week, around Thanksgiving. Erik tells me he has had the strangest phone call. A guy Erik met through a friend knows a girl who is working on a commercial in Pittsburgh and she is looking for a flock of geese for the commercial. The friend gave our name and one week later, the trainer from the National Aviary arrived this afternoon to pick up all the geese to try to train some of them.
Erik and the girls from the Aviary load the geese into the van.
Apparently, we did not provide our geese with the appropriate skill set. For the commercial, the skills required are to take a white bread sandwich out of someone's hands, and the other skill is to fish a set of keys out of a purse.
I'm not sure if these geese have it in them, but I sure hope they do.
The trainer will have the geese for next few weeks. She told us today that she will know by the weekend which geese are most receptive to the training and will only keep the most promising ones to continue with the intensive training. The others will return here to await their acting debut sometime around December 14. According to Erik's contact in charge of filming, we are responsible for bringing the geese to "the shoot" and we are allowed to stay to watch them film. I think it will be an exciting experience for the kids and we'll definitely take Walker out of school to have the experience.
We'll also have to plan to attend something at the Consol Energy Center as from what we've been told the commercial will be air exclusively at events at the new arena.
In all my wildest dreams, I never thought my ride to Hollywood would be on the wings of geese.
I wonder what the animal owner version of a stage parent is? Whatever it is, I promise not to be that.
I've got to go now. I need to get our list of needs ready for the rider . . . Hollywood, here we come!
Busy, busy!
I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S NOVEMBER!
I had to say that LOUDLY because I really cannot believe it. The weather this week makes it pretty impossible to believe also. Here in Western PA, it has been sunny and warm. The perfect week for me to ignore all my chores and concentrate on washing linens, curtains, and anything else I can get away with hanging out on the line to dry to get that wonderful smell. I'm not planning on doing my bedroom linens until Thursday or maybe even Friday so I have the entire weekend to enjoy the smell. Erik laughs at me, but more than the smell, I LOVE the way sheets taken from the line are so taught and crisp on the mattress. Seriously, can my life get more mundane?
I have so much to share from the past few weeks, I'm not even sure where to start. I guess I'll first start with Schwalm family photos. They went extremely well and turned out great. Especially since I, the photographer, had to be in the pictures. I had several obstacles to overcome one being that I was to be in the photos, second, that the location I chose, the neighbor's pond, had no good place to set up my tripod as the entire breastwork was only three feet and then steep cliff! I wanted to get as much scenery in as possible, but still get good close-ups. Challenge accepted! I managed to get the tripod set up with the telephoto lens because I had to set the tripod so far away. But, all turned out wonderfully. Except, as usual, Walker had one of his bouts of sullenness (as evidenced by some of the family portraits) and Will ran out of patience pretty quickly but my in-laws all seem pretty happy, so it's all good! We all even kind of matched. I had planned that my family would be wearing those shades of green and purple, but it just so happened the rest of my in-laws tried to match too. You know how I love me some coordinating outfits : )
Halloween. For some reason (let's not go into the psychosis that is driving me in this post, kay?) I am compelled to try to DIY my kids Halloween costumes. Again with the coordinating! We went to my hometown because my mom's side of the family was having a soup cook off. We had the kids walk in the Halloween parade on Saturday in my hometown and then we went trick or treating to a few family and friends homes. My four are the bees and my nephew is Harry Potter and my niece is a pink pig. I must be completely clear about her being a pink pig.
As is tradition, the week before Halloween, we went trick or treating at our local Mall. Here are my little bees at the mall. I have to say, Walker's costume looks pretty good for doing it last minute. I got the black sweats (I had to turn the sweatshirt inside out because NO STORES SELL ANYTHING PLAIN ANYMORE! Everyplace has all that graphic tee crap on it. Don't even get me started on all the graphic print crap everywhere!) So, I just used gold duct tape to make strips on the black inside out sweatshirt. The headbands were from the Dollar Tree. I had to rip other crap off them to re-invent them as antenae, but it was easy. And believe it or not, Maggie's skirt was SUPER easy. It is just yellow petticoat netting and black tulle. I found a great place to buy Tulle online. This way, she has a costume AND a "dress-up" outfit when Halloween is over. I found Whitaker's costume at a consignment sale for $6 and Will's costume was one I had from when Walker was little.
Happy first Halloween, precious boy!
We ended the weekend in my hometown with a soup cook off among family members. It was a blast. We had eight entries and four independent judges. I won't go into how it was fixed because I didn't know that two of the judges DON'T LIKE MUSHROOMS and I made MUSHROOM BISQUE! I'm not bitter about the fact I came in DEAD LAST with a recipe that is absolutely delicious!
My mom dishes up four servings of her soup for the judges to taste with help from my Aunt.
My Uncle (the guy who thought up having the contest), my mom and my Uncle's wife.
The rest of the family noshes on fresh bread and other tasty items while waiting for the judges to deliberate.
My brother in law, also a soup contestant, got his dad to be one of the judges. His family does lots of fun stuff like this, so JD & Mr. Mik have lots of experience with food contests. I wish I would have had my camera handy when Mr. Mik was reading the official contest rules - they were awesome! I did have have it when they read the results. Not good for me. Not good at all.
I had to say that LOUDLY because I really cannot believe it. The weather this week makes it pretty impossible to believe also. Here in Western PA, it has been sunny and warm. The perfect week for me to ignore all my chores and concentrate on washing linens, curtains, and anything else I can get away with hanging out on the line to dry to get that wonderful smell. I'm not planning on doing my bedroom linens until Thursday or maybe even Friday so I have the entire weekend to enjoy the smell. Erik laughs at me, but more than the smell, I LOVE the way sheets taken from the line are so taught and crisp on the mattress. Seriously, can my life get more mundane?
I have so much to share from the past few weeks, I'm not even sure where to start. I guess I'll first start with Schwalm family photos. They went extremely well and turned out great. Especially since I, the photographer, had to be in the pictures. I had several obstacles to overcome one being that I was to be in the photos, second, that the location I chose, the neighbor's pond, had no good place to set up my tripod as the entire breastwork was only three feet and then steep cliff! I wanted to get as much scenery in as possible, but still get good close-ups. Challenge accepted! I managed to get the tripod set up with the telephoto lens because I had to set the tripod so far away. But, all turned out wonderfully. Except, as usual, Walker had one of his bouts of sullenness (as evidenced by some of the family portraits) and Will ran out of patience pretty quickly but my in-laws all seem pretty happy, so it's all good! We all even kind of matched. I had planned that my family would be wearing those shades of green and purple, but it just so happened the rest of my in-laws tried to match too. You know how I love me some coordinating outfits : )
Halloween. For some reason (let's not go into the psychosis that is driving me in this post, kay?) I am compelled to try to DIY my kids Halloween costumes. Again with the coordinating! We went to my hometown because my mom's side of the family was having a soup cook off. We had the kids walk in the Halloween parade on Saturday in my hometown and then we went trick or treating to a few family and friends homes. My four are the bees and my nephew is Harry Potter and my niece is a pink pig. I must be completely clear about her being a pink pig.
As is tradition, the week before Halloween, we went trick or treating at our local Mall. Here are my little bees at the mall. I have to say, Walker's costume looks pretty good for doing it last minute. I got the black sweats (I had to turn the sweatshirt inside out because NO STORES SELL ANYTHING PLAIN ANYMORE! Everyplace has all that graphic tee crap on it. Don't even get me started on all the graphic print crap everywhere!) So, I just used gold duct tape to make strips on the black inside out sweatshirt. The headbands were from the Dollar Tree. I had to rip other crap off them to re-invent them as antenae, but it was easy. And believe it or not, Maggie's skirt was SUPER easy. It is just yellow petticoat netting and black tulle. I found a great place to buy Tulle online. This way, she has a costume AND a "dress-up" outfit when Halloween is over. I found Whitaker's costume at a consignment sale for $6 and Will's costume was one I had from when Walker was little.
Happy first Halloween, precious boy!
We ended the weekend in my hometown with a soup cook off among family members. It was a blast. We had eight entries and four independent judges. I won't go into how it was fixed because I didn't know that two of the judges DON'T LIKE MUSHROOMS and I made MUSHROOM BISQUE! I'm not bitter about the fact I came in DEAD LAST with a recipe that is absolutely delicious!
The judges had privacy in the formal dining room at my grandfather's house so they could judge the contest.
Ironically, my sister, who made chicken noodle dumpling soup, was the winner. Even though my Uncle (the creator of the contest) kept telling her, "Kate, no one is going to win with Chicken Noodle Soup."
I'm not bitter though!
We're having a meatball contest winter, 2011. All I can say is watch out family. This loser is ready for redemption! I'm pretty sure I have a pretty good advantage as my soup contest winning sister is pregnant and expecting her third child in February. I'm hoping by the time we have the contest, she'll be in that stage of pregnancy where she doesn't want to do anything. At least I'm counting on it.
Fwee!
Happy Birthday, Dear Willie!
My third born is three.
I don't know what to say about this boy. Right now, he's a Momma's boy. If he's hurt, hungry, angry, sleepy, happy, or one of the other seven dwarfs, he runs to Momma. It's a blessing and a curse.
He likes to wear princess dresses.
He cracks me up every day.
He's scared of giants and locks all of our doors at night to keep the giants out.
He loves to help his daddy and is not afraid to try anything.
I'm afraid he may try to jump off the roof one day.
He's our 95/5 child. 95% of the time he is good, 5% - well that's the percentage we're worried about.
For those of you that may of missed it, here's his life (thus far) in photos.
My third born is three.
I don't know what to say about this boy. Right now, he's a Momma's boy. If he's hurt, hungry, angry, sleepy, happy, or one of the other seven dwarfs, he runs to Momma. It's a blessing and a curse.
He likes to wear princess dresses.
He cracks me up every day.
He's scared of giants and locks all of our doors at night to keep the giants out.
He loves to help his daddy and is not afraid to try anything.
I'm afraid he may try to jump off the roof one day.
He's our 95/5 child. 95% of the time he is good, 5% - well that's the percentage we're worried about.
For those of you that may of missed it, here's his life (thus far) in photos.
I don't mean to brag . . .
I don't mean to brag, but I really know how to cook a roast. It has been my wedded ambition to learn how to cook a roast perfectly - to achieve that balance of moist, tender and pull-apart harmony. For the longest time I never could achieve it. I'm not sure if it because I was buying meat from the grocery store and now I have a freezer full of the best cuts of locally raised grass fed beef or if it is because I have better equipment or what it is, but now, my roasts ROCK!
One of the secrets I feel is the most important in achieving the perfect roast is to sear it prior to cooking it. If you don't know what searing is, it is a very simple technique. Obviously, the better cut of beef you start off with, the better the results, but I've had great success with this method with the most random cuts. One of the customs that the Burmese share is that when they butcher a cow, they offer us a portion of the cut. It usually transpires like this. Several Burmese men are hacking away at the cow dividing it into piles. One of the men will cut off a piece, say to Erik, "Hey Boss! For you, Boss!" and hand Erik a warm piece of flesh. It's not as gross as it sounds. Then Erik carries it to the house where, the first time, okay, I was a little grossed out. But, thankful and respectful of the gift, I took the meat, rinsed it thoroughly, cut the silver skin and excess fat off and put it in the fridge. A day or so later, I took the meat out for cooking. I don't know what portion of the cow the meat was cut from but my fool proof method works!
Pour enough oil in the pan to barely cover the entire bottom. You can use whatever oil you prefer - I've used vegetable oil, canola oil and olive oil. Extra virgin olive oil doesn't do as well in searing, but it does add flavor. Most of the time I use vegetable or canola oil. Heat the oil until it is very hot, then take your seasoned meat and put it in the pan. You'll see a frying effect happen - the oil will bubble up a bit on the sides of the meat as it cooks. It will smell heavenly after about 25 seconds! Allow the meat to cook for about 5 minutes or until you see a nice cooked crust forming. Turn the meat and repeat the procedure on each side - even the tips.
After you sear the roast thoroughly, immediately put it in your cooking device. I asked for and received a 7 quart enamel cast iron dutch oven for Christmas last year. (Thank you to my Mother-in-Law).
I love cooking in this pot. The brand is Chantal and is much cheaper than the classic Le Creuset cookware that is so famous. I was at TJ Maxx the other night and saw several sized of this particular brand there ranging from $39.99 to $79.99 I love this pot and am considering asking for a second and third! Typically, I do everything for the roast in this pot including sear the roast in this pot, but for some reason I did not have a photo of doing that. When you are done searing the meat on all sides, you can transfer the roast into an oven safe pan or crock pot, just add a little bit of water and some beef bouillon cubes/ beef broth, put a lid on the pot and put the entire thing in the oven. If you are transferring the roast to a crock pot (something I typically do in the summertime when I do not want to heat up my house by using the oven, I place the seared beef in the crock pot and put the pot on the "keep warm" setting).
I do not preheat the oven because I cook the roast LOW and SLOW, plus, I am careful of drastic temperature changes with the cast iron. If you change temps too drastically too fast, you can crack the cast iron! I highly recommend getting the roast on pretty early in the morning - I typically try to get it done by 9 am. I set the oven to 225 degrees and let it cook at that temperature all day. Seriously. I don't take the roast out until we are ready to eat that night, which is usually 6:00 or later.
When it is done cooking you will find a roast that, with gentle pulling, will fall apart and shred into pieces like this:
One of the secrets I feel is the most important in achieving the perfect roast is to sear it prior to cooking it. If you don't know what searing is, it is a very simple technique. Obviously, the better cut of beef you start off with, the better the results, but I've had great success with this method with the most random cuts. One of the customs that the Burmese share is that when they butcher a cow, they offer us a portion of the cut. It usually transpires like this. Several Burmese men are hacking away at the cow dividing it into piles. One of the men will cut off a piece, say to Erik, "Hey Boss! For you, Boss!" and hand Erik a warm piece of flesh. It's not as gross as it sounds. Then Erik carries it to the house where, the first time, okay, I was a little grossed out. But, thankful and respectful of the gift, I took the meat, rinsed it thoroughly, cut the silver skin and excess fat off and put it in the fridge. A day or so later, I took the meat out for cooking. I don't know what portion of the cow the meat was cut from but my fool proof method works!
Take your piece of meat (this works with pork roasts too. I have not tried searing a chicken or turkey) and season it well on all sides with your favorite seasonings. By well, I mean douse thick! My seasoning of choice is and has always been Garlic Salt. I use this Spice Club version that you can buy at Aldi's for about $1.30 a jar. It is a nice coarse salt (similar in size and texture to sea or kosher salt) and they also add parsley flakes to the mixture which is a nice touch. I like the parsley because I can see how much I am spreading. I also enjoy the Spice Club Steak and Pork chop seasoning. It comes in a self contained grinder. The Spice Club selection also includes a Country Herb mix that I would compare to an Herbs de France type seasoning. All are very good. But, in my mind, nothing beats good old Garlic Salt.
Pour enough oil in the pan to barely cover the entire bottom. You can use whatever oil you prefer - I've used vegetable oil, canola oil and olive oil. Extra virgin olive oil doesn't do as well in searing, but it does add flavor. Most of the time I use vegetable or canola oil. Heat the oil until it is very hot, then take your seasoned meat and put it in the pan. You'll see a frying effect happen - the oil will bubble up a bit on the sides of the meat as it cooks. It will smell heavenly after about 25 seconds! Allow the meat to cook for about 5 minutes or until you see a nice cooked crust forming. Turn the meat and repeat the procedure on each side - even the tips.
I love cooking in this pot. The brand is Chantal and is much cheaper than the classic Le Creuset cookware that is so famous. I was at TJ Maxx the other night and saw several sized of this particular brand there ranging from $39.99 to $79.99 I love this pot and am considering asking for a second and third! Typically, I do everything for the roast in this pot including sear the roast in this pot, but for some reason I did not have a photo of doing that. When you are done searing the meat on all sides, you can transfer the roast into an oven safe pan or crock pot, just add a little bit of water and some beef bouillon cubes/ beef broth, put a lid on the pot and put the entire thing in the oven. If you are transferring the roast to a crock pot (something I typically do in the summertime when I do not want to heat up my house by using the oven, I place the seared beef in the crock pot and put the pot on the "keep warm" setting).
I do not preheat the oven because I cook the roast LOW and SLOW, plus, I am careful of drastic temperature changes with the cast iron. If you change temps too drastically too fast, you can crack the cast iron! I highly recommend getting the roast on pretty early in the morning - I typically try to get it done by 9 am. I set the oven to 225 degrees and let it cook at that temperature all day. Seriously. I don't take the roast out until we are ready to eat that night, which is usually 6:00 or later.
When it is done cooking you will find a roast that, with gentle pulling, will fall apart and shred into pieces like this:
The juice will make delicious gravy if you so choose. If I am going to make gravy, I try to remove the roast whole onto a cutting board so I can make the gravy right in the same pot as I cooked the roast. Gravy used to mystify me as well, but I learned a great tip at a cooking class. Use corn starch to make a slurry (a thick mix of water and cornstarch) to make your gravy. I don't really know the scientific culinary reasons why, but since I started using cornstarch, my gravy is thicker and I don't get those lumps in it that you can get from flour. Most times, I just shred the beef right into the pan and we eat the beef smothered in the au jus.
The best part about cooking a roast this way is that if you cook a large enough roast, it lends itself to several diverse meals. Meal one can be a pot roast with potatoes and carrots. Meal two can be beef, bean and corn enchiladas and meal three is usually some type of shredded beef sandwich. I recently had a yummy little appetizer at Applebees of shredded beef in an asian sauce topped with some cabbage and stuffed into a fried won-ton wrapper. I am thinking this would be really easy to duplicate at home and I plan on trying to make it the next time I have some left over shredded beef!
You Picked A Fine Time To Leave Me . . . GE Profile!
It's been a very sad week inside the house at Goodness Grows Farm. I've been mourning the loss of my new used dishwasher. About 9 months ago, my original Maytag dishwasher that we purchased for the house when we remodeled, stopped working for the second time in 6 years. It had nothing to do with using well water (as many suggested) we have a whole house softener and filter. Our lines are clean! We deduced that it was the control panel that malfunctioned, so after some investigation into prices online, we came to the conclusion that between the service call (even using a non-Maytag associated repairman), parts and labor, we'd have about $300 into the dishwasher which is basically a new dishwasher.
Being the craigslist loving folks that we are, Erik immediately started watching "the list" for a replacement. He found this one (please excuse the fingerprints):
Being the craigslist loving folks that we are, Erik immediately started watching "the list" for a replacement. He found this one (please excuse the fingerprints):
It is a GE Profile and I LOVE IT. It has three separate spinners that force water into the machine and clean the dishes. This was such an awesome deal. The guy selling it was a contractor who had been contracted to remove the "old" stainless steel appliances from a kitchen in a condo. The lady who bought the condo wanted black appliances. This dishwasher was only two years old and was used by someone who spent half her year in Florida. It was perfect.
It has many different wash cycles and the best part is that you can select which level of clean you need, not like my old, plain, Maytag, that you just pushed the button and had to wait over 2 hours for the cycle to complete.
This one has a "Speed Cycle" that completes a cycle in just 34 minutes! 44 minutes if you choose the "heated dry" option!
There are lots of other options too - china/crysta, rinse only, glasses, normal wash, anti-bacterial, pots and pans . . . it's wonderful!
And it's not working : (
So now, my new best friend is:
And my kitchen sink looks disgustingly like this:
And my kitchen countertops look like this:
And I can't stand it!
Erik is going to check tonight to see if it is possibly the waterline that is causing the problem. It's a sad day in my life that I'm actually hoping that we have mice and that the mice crawled behind the dishwasher and moved the waterline and that's why the dishwasher isn't filling and running.
Otherwise, I fear it's back to craigslist. And I can't go back - I've lived with a high end appliance for almost a year now - going back to a low end dishwasher will be too hard.
At least that's what I think until I go into the kitchen and see my sink full of dishes and realize that any dishwasher would be better than having to stick my hand into that gross, food filled water to clean my dishes!
Goodness Grows Farm and Market?
About a year ago, we're not really sure how, but are assuming that through an internet search, a family of Burmese immigrants found out about our little farm and contacted Erik about coming to the farm to buy fresh chickens and goats. Since then, we have made contact with several other Burmese families as well as some families from Nepal. *Yes, I know that the country of Burma is now known as Myanmar.* If you are like me, you would have had no idea what I was talking about if I had said, "Myanmarese" instead of Burmese. If you would like to learn a bit more about Burma/Myanmar, here is a link to Wikipedia. I know it is not considered a completely reliable source, but it does provide a lot of information regarding the country and gave me some insight as to why the Burmese would be immigrating to the States.
With that background information, imagine our surprise when the first family arrived and not only did they buy chickens, they slaughtered them right here in our garage.
I admit, I was a little creeped out at first, but it hasn't been such a bad experience and it is a way for us to expose our kids to some hands on ethnic diversity as well as address the life cycle on a working farm. We've been able to use the experiences as ways to explain to our children how in other countries, people do not have the luxury of grocery stores the way we do and that many of the people that come out to our house came from places where they had their own farms and often killed their own animals for consumption. They are a bit more hands on than we are, but part of that (again we assume) is because of their religion. At least one family has explained to us that because of their religion, they are not permitted to purchase their meat from a non-religious butcher. Some of the families are Muslim and just like the Jewish faith has "Kosher" products, these Muslim families have the same religious reasons. Again, that is what we assume. We do not always understand enough of what they say to get a real firm grip on the reasons they butcher here. I took these pictures last year of some families plucking chickens here and they even did one for Walker.
I admit, I was a little creeped out at first, but it hasn't been such a bad experience and it is a way for us to expose our kids to some hands on ethnic diversity as well as address the life cycle on a working farm. We've been able to use the experiences as ways to explain to our children how in other countries, people do not have the luxury of grocery stores the way we do and that many of the people that come out to our house came from places where they had their own farms and often killed their own animals for consumption. They are a bit more hands on than we are, but part of that (again we assume) is because of their religion. At least one family has explained to us that because of their religion, they are not permitted to purchase their meat from a non-religious butcher. Some of the families are Muslim and just like the Jewish faith has "Kosher" products, these Muslim families have the same religious reasons. Again, that is what we assume. We do not always understand enough of what they say to get a real firm grip on the reasons they butcher here. I took these pictures last year of some families plucking chickens here and they even did one for Walker.
There is a giant learning curve in terms of providing product for these families as some families only want goat and chicken and shy away from ducks and geese, while others jump at the geese and ducks. Almost everyone has turned down interest in lamb and hog until yesterday when Erik had to quickly run to a local farmer for a hog. Erik has spent the last 4 or 5 months traveling to auctions purchasing animals and reselling them to the Burmese.
Some people find this practice cruel, but it is actually a very practical method of culling our herds and disposing of other animals that otherwise serve no further purpose. One lesson you learn quickly by living on and managing a functioning farm is that feeding and caring for animals is expensive. Often, the animals we purchase at auction have outgrown their purpose. Some animals were purchased to be "pets" but once they grew up, no longer could be accommodated in their current setting. Other animals are often older and are likely going to die anyway. Then there are the animals we acquire because the economy is still rough for folks and having extra livestock mouths may mean not having money to feed your family. We feel it is unethical to resell an animal we are culling (getting rid of) from our herd to anyone else. For instance, occasionally we will sell a non-producing doe to the Burmese because it would be unfair to sell her to another farm when their expectation would be that she would kid. (Note: Animals culled for medical reasons are never sold for consumption purposes).
Some people find this practice cruel, but it is actually a very practical method of culling our herds and disposing of other animals that otherwise serve no further purpose. One lesson you learn quickly by living on and managing a functioning farm is that feeding and caring for animals is expensive. Often, the animals we purchase at auction have outgrown their purpose. Some animals were purchased to be "pets" but once they grew up, no longer could be accommodated in their current setting. Other animals are often older and are likely going to die anyway. Then there are the animals we acquire because the economy is still rough for folks and having extra livestock mouths may mean not having money to feed your family. We feel it is unethical to resell an animal we are culling (getting rid of) from our herd to anyone else. For instance, occasionally we will sell a non-producing doe to the Burmese because it would be unfair to sell her to another farm when their expectation would be that she would kid. (Note: Animals culled for medical reasons are never sold for consumption purposes).
Some families just kill the product here and then take the animal home to cut it up and divide it among others.
We found out just last week that some of the original families that buy from us actually bought in great quantity from us not because they consumed it all but because they would go back to their community and re-sell the product. They wouldn't give our information to their community members because they were worried that we would not be able to keep up with the demand of all the families wanting product from us. We got a chuckle out of that because if they only knew how much Erik hustled to get product here so that he could satisfy orders, they wouldn't hesitate to hand out our business cards!
We found out just last week that some of the original families that buy from us actually bought in great quantity from us not because they consumed it all but because they would go back to their community and re-sell the product. They wouldn't give our information to their community members because they were worried that we would not be able to keep up with the demand of all the families wanting product from us. We got a chuckle out of that because if they only knew how much Erik hustled to get product here so that he could satisfy orders, they wouldn't hesitate to hand out our business cards!
We normally see these folks every weekend. They usually come on Saturdays and Sundays and the faces vary week to week based on their work schedules but we usually see the same folks every other week. Today was an unusual week because we had three car loads both yesterday and today. This has been a very good business experience for us as these customers do not particularly care about the age of the goat, chicken, duck or geese. Some of the families are very generous and have brought us samples of the food they make with the product they buy from us. Once they even brought us a big bowl of what we assume is Mohinga, a traditional fish soup. It was tasty.
Our children are very curious about the Burmese and enjoy going out with Erik to help the customers. They Burmese often bring their children with them and they try to play with our children. The younger children do not speak much English, but the school aged children often serve as interpreters.
Our children are very curious about the Burmese and enjoy going out with Erik to help the customers. They Burmese often bring their children with them and they try to play with our children. The younger children do not speak much English, but the school aged children often serve as interpreters.
In fact, sometimes I think they have a little too much compassion. Here are some pictures of the kids attempting to convince me that they love these chickens and they must come live in the house as our pets.
Happy (belated) Birthday, Papa!
My Papa celebrated his 84th birthday this month. You would never be able to tell that he is 84 years old. This past July, he traveled with my Aunt and her three boys to Ligonier and met me and my kids at Idlewild for the day. After a day of riding rides and swimming at Splash Lagoon, I was dragging. As we were headed out of the park to our vehicles and as he pushed Whitaker's stroller, I thought "here I am in my 30's and I don't have nearly the stamina or good posture that he does."
Papa was born to first generation Italian Americans and spoke only Italian until he started elementary school. He has a rich and amazing past that is the ultimate illustration of the American dream. His father started a business in 1927 and my Papa works there to this day with his two sons and his nephew.
His work ethic is phenomenal. Not only does he work at the company, he comes home at night and plays with my young cousins and works on the farm, tends his garden and takes his grandkids on tractor rides.
It is rare that I am at a loss for words, but when it comes to describing my relationship with my Papa, words are hard to find. I love him in a way that I love no other. His generosity, love and support has allowed me to place him on a pedestal as any fabulous grandparent should be. On the rational, adult side of me, I know he is not perfect. He can get grumpy (and that has nothing to do with age), he isn't the most politically correct guy on the planet, and he can be impatient - but that's not the man I've ever experienced. The man I know would do anything for one of his grandchildren. For the first 16 years of my life, my sisters and I were the ONLY grandchildren in the picture. For 16 years, I basically had he and my Grammie to myself. And they did ANYTHING for us.
When my Papa bought a farm, he stocked it with animals for us to have. In fact, if I remember correctly, he bought us a little pony before his new house was even finished and he kept the pony in his garage until they moved up to the farm. Edna was a little black and white pony and we adored her. Did we get her because we asked for her? Nope - we got her because my Papa thought "the girls" as we were known, would get a kick out of it. Most of everything he did was because he thought we'd get a kick out of it. And he is still doing it to this day. At his age, no one would blame him if he sat back, relaxed and let others do for him. Because of a variety of circumstances, the majority of my cousins are actually my kids ages. In the last 8 years, my Papa has restocked the pond on his property, takes the kids fishing, turned the horse stalls into an aviary for pheasants for my cousin who is fascinated by birds, and a variety of other projects, "because the kids will get a kick out of it." When I bring the kids in for a visit, he never fails to pile as many grandkids as he can in the truck or on the golf cart wherever they want to go. A frequent request is, "Papa, can we go see the cows?" and the trip to see the cows turns into a trip to see the cows, then down to the pond to feed the fish and then to see whatever other surprises he has for them.
We had Whitaker baptized this past weekend and he drove the two hours to our house to celebrate with us. He gave up a quiet afternoon at home alone where he could watch the Steeler's game in peace, to visit with us because his family is that important to him. It is such an honor to be loved that much.
I could go on and on about the memories I have . . . he bought my sister and I Jordache dolls
took us to Disney multiple times
and gave us everything we could have wanted (and most of things we didn't really even need). Without his help, I would not be where I am today.
I fear that he does not know how much I appreciate everything he has done for me. Not a day goes by that I do not offer a prayer of thanks to God for the gift that is my Papa. And I pray every day that my Papa knows I do not take for granted his hard work and generosity. I hope that he is as proud to my Papa as I am that he is my Papa.
For there is no greater Papa in the world! And I think all of these kids would agree!
Please pass the jelly!
Devil in Disguise
Devil In Disguise
Dear Nissan,
I demand some compensation for the creative inspiration my child has provided you for the "Devil In Disguise" commercial. Clearly someone must have installed secret squirrel hidden cameras in our house and woods. How else would you have been inspired to make this commercial? Trashing cars in the mud? Throwing one to a dog to chew on? Flushing objects down the toilet?? The only thing missing was a scene of running one through the manure pile out behind the barn. Obviously you could not include that scene or I would have concrete evidence that you were secret squirrel taping my child's every move. I can only imagine the footage you obtained in the second hour of film!
What? How dare you imply that all almost three year old boys act like this! My son is unique and individual and certainly no other parents allow their children to behave as mine does.
I mean wait a minute . . . you mean it's actually true? ALL three year old boys do this? And it is just a phase?
Oh, thank goodness.
Please disregard my above demand for compensation. Perhaps you could instead just indicate that inspiration for the commercial was not derived in any way from observations of one Will Schwalm. That really would get my family off my back about the child we have labeled "Candy Man Dr. Destruction."
Sincerely,
Mother of Candy Man Dr. Destruction
Watch me now!
College Reflection
My cousin, Brittany, leaves for college today. She's attending a branch campus of a large state school about an hour from our hometown. My aunt left a facebook post last night about having the car all packed and ready to go to take her to school and it got me thinking about my trip to Duquesne and how that moment impacted my life.
Looking back, I was so, so young. I was only 17 1/2 when I left for Duquesne University. I thought I was ancient though. What's even scarier than how young I was is how young my parents were. They were just a few months older than I am right now. *insert shudder sequence here* That's right folks. Two babies dropped off their first born baby at college. I don't remember much about the whole process of getting ready to go to school. I mean, I remember picking out a new bedspread, contacting my roommate to see what appliances and other important items we would be bringing. Good grief - when I started my Freshman year, personal computers were just starting to become popular and laptops were basically unheard of. Our dorm rooms didn't have internet (and the computer lab only had dial up connections). We thought word processors were the height of affordable technology! But I don't remember very much about the actual drop off procedure. I'm sure it was a combination of my dad getting ticked at the traffic in Pittsburgh, at having to wait on the bottom floor of my co-ed dorm (don't worry - a good catholic school separates their freshman dorm by floors. Girls get the bottom six, boys the top six) to get an elevator to get my stuff to the dorm room, at all the seminars and paper work we had to fill out the first day. My mom probably fussed too much and I probably got irritated with her , you know, being the big grown up that I was at 17 1/2, and said inappropriately mean things to her. I do very much remember standing at the steps outside of St. Martin's - the ones that went between the tennis courts and led to parking and the walkway out of the campus and saying goodbye to my parents. My mom hugged me and kissed me and told me she loved me with tears in her eyes, which cut my defenses. Then my dad, in a rare display of affection, hugged me and said, "Love you, girl," which brought home the realization that I was being left alone in a big city on a campus where I knew absolutely no one, had no connections, no one to care for me, protect me or help me make my decisions.
I watched them walk off towards their car wanting so much to run after them and tell them that I was still a little girl and they should not leave me here after all. I felt homesick before they even reached their car! But there was a larger part of me that knew it was time for me to march back into St. Martin's and get ready for the Freshman Mixer and tackle head on the future that was waiting for me. I cried a little bit but put on a brave face and participated in all the Freshman Orientation activities that night and the rest of the week. I strolled campus, found my classrooms (not so hard to do on a campus that encompasses only 5 city blocks) and felt good about being a "college girl."
Looking back, it's funny how so much time was spent in classrooms, learning and preparing for my career, yet here I sit (up way too late at night) thinking about how it was every thing but the stuff I learned in the classroom that has prepared me for where I am today to be who I am today. And I think about Brittany, and how she has so much fun and excitement waiting ahead for her and how at this moment, she is probably so scared and confused. Because going to college isn't just about going to a new school. Going to college is about starting a new life. Childhood is gone and while I don't think anyone consciously thinks of it that way - let's face it, by the time your 18 year old self heads off to college, you've already thought of yourself as an "adult" for a few months now - it is what happens. When your parents drop you off and turn and walk away from you, that little child inside of you panics for just a little bit - no matter how ready you are to be an adult and start your life.
17 years ago, I left my childhood behind and walked through the glass doors of St. Martin into my adult hood. I may have a few regrets here and there, but I trust that every single second has led me to where I am today. Through all of those ups and downs I have found the passions and purpose that God laid out for me at my creation.
Brittany - I don't know if you will read this or not, but if you do, enjoy every single second of what you are doing - even if you are crying into your pillow because you are homesick! Every moment is a lesson, is a chance at something new, is a gift. It may take a long time to understand what exactly the gift of this precise moment is, but before you know it, 17 years will have flown by. The fashions you thought you had left behind in your teens will be back in style (and you'll wonder why they are bringing leggings back again!?) and if you are as smart as I know you are, you remember this first day of college thankful for everything this opportunity brings you good or bad, because it was the beginning of all of the moments that will lead you to the happiest times in your life.
It may seem silly, but this verse from the song "Letter to Me" by Brad Paisley always gives me chills:
You've got so much up ahead
You'll make new friends
You should see your kids and wife
And I'd end by saying have no fear
These are nowhere near the best years of your life
I remember leaving high school thinking that my best days were behind me, but they weren't. Each day I wake up knowing that today is the best day of my life.
And it was all because I walked back up those concrete steps between the tennis courts and through those heavy glass doors of St. Martin's dormitory by myself to start my new adult life. If you had told me 17 years ago where I'd be now, the life I'd be living, I would have laughed until my sides ached (or I may have cried in horror) but here I sit 17 years later, thankful that young, innocent girl had the guts to move away from home and pursue her dreams. Because in her wildest dreams, she would have never imagined being so happy and so loved - that all of her dreams really would come true.
Looking back, I was so, so young. I was only 17 1/2 when I left for Duquesne University. I thought I was ancient though. What's even scarier than how young I was is how young my parents were. They were just a few months older than I am right now. *insert shudder sequence here* That's right folks. Two babies dropped off their first born baby at college. I don't remember much about the whole process of getting ready to go to school. I mean, I remember picking out a new bedspread, contacting my roommate to see what appliances and other important items we would be bringing. Good grief - when I started my Freshman year, personal computers were just starting to become popular and laptops were basically unheard of. Our dorm rooms didn't have internet (and the computer lab only had dial up connections). We thought word processors were the height of affordable technology! But I don't remember very much about the actual drop off procedure. I'm sure it was a combination of my dad getting ticked at the traffic in Pittsburgh, at having to wait on the bottom floor of my co-ed dorm (don't worry - a good catholic school separates their freshman dorm by floors. Girls get the bottom six, boys the top six) to get an elevator to get my stuff to the dorm room, at all the seminars and paper work we had to fill out the first day. My mom probably fussed too much and I probably got irritated with her , you know, being the big grown up that I was at 17 1/2, and said inappropriately mean things to her. I do very much remember standing at the steps outside of St. Martin's - the ones that went between the tennis courts and led to parking and the walkway out of the campus and saying goodbye to my parents. My mom hugged me and kissed me and told me she loved me with tears in her eyes, which cut my defenses. Then my dad, in a rare display of affection, hugged me and said, "Love you, girl," which brought home the realization that I was being left alone in a big city on a campus where I knew absolutely no one, had no connections, no one to care for me, protect me or help me make my decisions.
I watched them walk off towards their car wanting so much to run after them and tell them that I was still a little girl and they should not leave me here after all. I felt homesick before they even reached their car! But there was a larger part of me that knew it was time for me to march back into St. Martin's and get ready for the Freshman Mixer and tackle head on the future that was waiting for me. I cried a little bit but put on a brave face and participated in all the Freshman Orientation activities that night and the rest of the week. I strolled campus, found my classrooms (not so hard to do on a campus that encompasses only 5 city blocks) and felt good about being a "college girl."
Looking back, it's funny how so much time was spent in classrooms, learning and preparing for my career, yet here I sit (up way too late at night) thinking about how it was every thing but the stuff I learned in the classroom that has prepared me for where I am today to be who I am today. And I think about Brittany, and how she has so much fun and excitement waiting ahead for her and how at this moment, she is probably so scared and confused. Because going to college isn't just about going to a new school. Going to college is about starting a new life. Childhood is gone and while I don't think anyone consciously thinks of it that way - let's face it, by the time your 18 year old self heads off to college, you've already thought of yourself as an "adult" for a few months now - it is what happens. When your parents drop you off and turn and walk away from you, that little child inside of you panics for just a little bit - no matter how ready you are to be an adult and start your life.
17 years ago, I left my childhood behind and walked through the glass doors of St. Martin into my adult hood. I may have a few regrets here and there, but I trust that every single second has led me to where I am today. Through all of those ups and downs I have found the passions and purpose that God laid out for me at my creation.
Brittany - I don't know if you will read this or not, but if you do, enjoy every single second of what you are doing - even if you are crying into your pillow because you are homesick! Every moment is a lesson, is a chance at something new, is a gift. It may take a long time to understand what exactly the gift of this precise moment is, but before you know it, 17 years will have flown by. The fashions you thought you had left behind in your teens will be back in style (and you'll wonder why they are bringing leggings back again!?) and if you are as smart as I know you are, you remember this first day of college thankful for everything this opportunity brings you good or bad, because it was the beginning of all of the moments that will lead you to the happiest times in your life.
It may seem silly, but this verse from the song "Letter to Me" by Brad Paisley always gives me chills:
You've got so much up ahead
You'll make new friends
You should see your kids and wife
And I'd end by saying have no fear
These are nowhere near the best years of your life
I remember leaving high school thinking that my best days were behind me, but they weren't. Each day I wake up knowing that today is the best day of my life.
And it was all because I walked back up those concrete steps between the tennis courts and through those heavy glass doors of St. Martin's dormitory by myself to start my new adult life. If you had told me 17 years ago where I'd be now, the life I'd be living, I would have laughed until my sides ached (or I may have cried in horror) but here I sit 17 years later, thankful that young, innocent girl had the guts to move away from home and pursue her dreams. Because in her wildest dreams, she would have never imagined being so happy and so loved - that all of her dreams really would come true.
A Day In The Life Pictorial
In the morning, I wake to this little lovey. He lies in his bassinet and coos and talks until I get up and get him out to feed him. When I peek over the edge of his bassinet and he sees me, he gives me a huge smile and my heart swells with love.
Walker loves helping me with Whitaker. I taught Walker how to make a formula bottle and feed Whit. I'm thinking this may come in handy! Walker got his teacher and bus assignments yesterday. It's really hitting home how much I'll miss him. This morning when he woke up, he was telling me something as he picked out his clothes, and I kind of got lost listening to him - flashing back to him as a little guy and looking at how grown up he is now - how he seems more like a boy than a little boy. *Insert sobbing here.*
After supper when I went outside, here's what I saw.
This is one Cookie. She is a pygmy goat and is pregnant. Heavens, does she waddle. I feel for ya, sister. I think she's very glad the temperature has dropped finally.
Erik cleaned out the barn last night so the herd was released to the yard. We have a couple really cute babies too. They are so fun to watch. The large furry animal on the right is our LLalpaca or Allama - it's an Alpaca/Llama cross. He tends the herd and watches for predators.
Three months ago, this little guy didn't like his baths so much. His tub must have felt so big and scary.
Last night, this big guy got a bath and now look at how small the tub is. He's going to be able to go in the big bath tub soon. I can't wait until he enjoys splashing and playing in the tub. But then, he'll be growing up. I'm not ready for any of them to grow up.
Maggie has been so worn out at night lately that she just fell asleep on the daybed the other night after supper. I am glad that sending kids to bed dirty is not cause for protective services to take your kids away from you. Because I'd wager that this summer at least 5 out of 7 nights a week my kids go to bed with a considerable amount of dirt on them. That's ok - skin, hair, clothes and sheets all wash up pretty easily.
Because moments like this go pretty fast!
Whit's Hickey
On Saturday evening, I showed up (unfashionably & rudely late) to our dear friends house for their twins 5th birthday party. We were so late because my three oldest children were having a very difficult time cleaning up the messes they had made throughout the day. As a result, the baby had not been changed, had not been fed and was basically neglected until we got to the party when I: A) began to completely neglect and ignore the oldest three children and B) there were caring and loving people there to rescue poor Whit and tend to his needs.
Ok, that's not entirely true - I did nurse Whit and change him. It should be noted here that usually after nursing, Whit likes to have a little chaser of some formula. After nursing my chubby buddy, I left him to the Griffins who were more than happy to entertain my littlest guy. And they did such a good job of it, I totally forgot about Whit needing his chaser. After getting my oldest three to eat, ridiculously loud sucking sounds reminded me to make Whit a bottle, so I got that ready for him and Miss B. graciously fed him.
Much later in the evening I was nursing Whitaker and I noticed a bruise on his arm. Several other ladies noticed the bruise too. We all were twittering (in this instance twittering is used the old fashioned way - an adjective used to describe a way women make a fuss over something) over Whit and wondering how in the world this poor little creature could have gotten such a bruise. My only thought was that in the nursing process that perhaps he got pinched by my rings. We continued to speculate when Mr. T strolled through the kitchen and past all of us twittering ladies says, "It's a hickey."
"WHAT?"
"Remember, after you nursed him and we were holding him, he was up on my shoulder and sucking his arm. Remember, he was making such a loud sucking noise that you remembered he needed a bottle?"
"Oh yes, now I remember," I respond to Mr. T as I feel guilt and shame for not feeding my child and causing him to suck his arm so hard that he gave himself a bruise.
I then went into the other room to enlighten my husband as to why our ittie bittie baby boy had a horrible bruise. It was from his mother's neglect. Erik's response:
"Well, I guess that's why your certain parts of the female anatomy hurt. That baby has a strong suck!"
He said it with such surprise, it struck me that perhaps the physical evidence of my cracked and bleeding certain parts of the female anatomy, my doubling over in pain when nursing, and the bottles of lansinoh I used were not enough proof that the baby sucking caused MUCH pain. That all of a sudden he finally believed that nursing was painful and I wasn't lying.
Thankfully, I did not dwell on his "revelation" regarding the nursing process and instead focused on the feeling of satisfaction you get as a parent when you discover the cause for an inexplicable bruise - relief that should any Child Protective Services official question you, you do indeed have an explanation for each mark on your child's body and no one will be taking your children away from you . . . today.
Then I gathered up all of my children, managed to get them all home and safely to bed. Another superior day of parenting under my belt.
Ok, that's not entirely true - I did nurse Whit and change him. It should be noted here that usually after nursing, Whit likes to have a little chaser of some formula. After nursing my chubby buddy, I left him to the Griffins who were more than happy to entertain my littlest guy. And they did such a good job of it, I totally forgot about Whit needing his chaser. After getting my oldest three to eat, ridiculously loud sucking sounds reminded me to make Whit a bottle, so I got that ready for him and Miss B. graciously fed him.
Much later in the evening I was nursing Whitaker and I noticed a bruise on his arm. Several other ladies noticed the bruise too. We all were twittering (in this instance twittering is used the old fashioned way - an adjective used to describe a way women make a fuss over something) over Whit and wondering how in the world this poor little creature could have gotten such a bruise. My only thought was that in the nursing process that perhaps he got pinched by my rings. We continued to speculate when Mr. T strolled through the kitchen and past all of us twittering ladies says, "It's a hickey."
"WHAT?"
"Remember, after you nursed him and we were holding him, he was up on my shoulder and sucking his arm. Remember, he was making such a loud sucking noise that you remembered he needed a bottle?"
"Oh yes, now I remember," I respond to Mr. T as I feel guilt and shame for not feeding my child and causing him to suck his arm so hard that he gave himself a bruise.
I then went into the other room to enlighten my husband as to why our ittie bittie baby boy had a horrible bruise. It was from his mother's neglect. Erik's response:
"Well, I guess that's why your certain parts of the female anatomy hurt. That baby has a strong suck!"
He said it with such surprise, it struck me that perhaps the physical evidence of my cracked and bleeding certain parts of the female anatomy, my doubling over in pain when nursing, and the bottles of lansinoh I used were not enough proof that the baby sucking caused MUCH pain. That all of a sudden he finally believed that nursing was painful and I wasn't lying.
Thankfully, I did not dwell on his "revelation" regarding the nursing process and instead focused on the feeling of satisfaction you get as a parent when you discover the cause for an inexplicable bruise - relief that should any Child Protective Services official question you, you do indeed have an explanation for each mark on your child's body and no one will be taking your children away from you . . . today.
Then I gathered up all of my children, managed to get them all home and safely to bed. Another superior day of parenting under my belt.
My Sensitive Soul
As first grade approaches, I've been struggling with what I assume are normal worries about what is going to happen when Walker gets on that bus in September.
What will he learn from the big kids on the bus?
Will his teacher care for him as much as his Kindergarten teacher did?
Who IS his teacher?
Who in their right mind thought it was appropriate for a six year old to leave their mother for 8 hours a day?
All of this stems from the realization that he will be away from me more than he will be with me during the day.
If you are at all familiar with this blog, you know that I do not suffer from a delusion that life is simple and smooth when all the kids are home. I know from other hearing other mothers that it is kind of nice to have a little extra time in the day to devote to the other children - to be able to run an errand and not worry about getting home in time to get a kid on or off the bus within a two hour time limit. I know in my heart of hearts that Walker likes the structure of school and like me, enjoys the academic time and like his father, enjoys the social time. I know that teachers are wonderful people and most of them are in the profession for the right reasons. They will not only teach my children, but care for them and show them kindness and empathy and be sensitive to their little souls.
It's just scary to think that he will be gone so long without me there to supervise and protect him. Walker is my sensitive child. Maybe I'm a little hyper-sensitive to this because I was allegedly a "sensitive" child. Except when my family refers to me as sensitive, I don't get the feeling that they found it as heart wrenching and endearing as I do when I say it about Walker. They refer to it as if it was a fault. I don't see it that way so much with Walker. Sure, being sensitive has its drawbacks, but it also puts you in tune with things that other people don't notice.
He was so excited. Not only because Walker has a thing for older girls, but because someone included him. Walker is usually very brave and social, but in situations like this, he becomes shy and awkward.
He had a great time dancing with those lovely ladies and I thank them from the bottom of my heart for being so kind. And I thank their parents for teaching them to be inclusive to the little kids too. I hope that my parenting allows my children to be so generous.
What will he learn from the big kids on the bus?
Will his teacher care for him as much as his Kindergarten teacher did?
Who IS his teacher?
Who in their right mind thought it was appropriate for a six year old to leave their mother for 8 hours a day?
All of this stems from the realization that he will be away from me more than he will be with me during the day.
If you are at all familiar with this blog, you know that I do not suffer from a delusion that life is simple and smooth when all the kids are home. I know from other hearing other mothers that it is kind of nice to have a little extra time in the day to devote to the other children - to be able to run an errand and not worry about getting home in time to get a kid on or off the bus within a two hour time limit. I know in my heart of hearts that Walker likes the structure of school and like me, enjoys the academic time and like his father, enjoys the social time. I know that teachers are wonderful people and most of them are in the profession for the right reasons. They will not only teach my children, but care for them and show them kindness and empathy and be sensitive to their little souls.
It's just scary to think that he will be gone so long without me there to supervise and protect him. Walker is my sensitive child. Maybe I'm a little hyper-sensitive to this because I was allegedly a "sensitive" child. Except when my family refers to me as sensitive, I don't get the feeling that they found it as heart wrenching and endearing as I do when I say it about Walker. They refer to it as if it was a fault. I don't see it that way so much with Walker. Sure, being sensitive has its drawbacks, but it also puts you in tune with things that other people don't notice.
For instance, last night was the 4H dance at the Butler Farm Show. I could see that Walker wanted to dance and he just kept wandering around the dance floor hoping to get integrated somehow. Luckily, another lovely lady happened to be there and she asked Walker to dance with her and her friends. Walker was in heaven when Ms. Stacy had him join her on the floor.
He was so excited. Not only because Walker has a thing for older girls, but because someone included him. Walker is usually very brave and social, but in situations like this, he becomes shy and awkward.
He had a great time dancing with those lovely ladies and I thank them from the bottom of my heart for being so kind. And I thank their parents for teaching them to be inclusive to the little kids too. I hope that my parenting allows my children to be so generous.
Unfortunately, I still have some work to do. Despite my best lecture about being a gentleman and being kind to the girls, Walker had some trouble finding his rhythm with one of his little friends. Miss Maggie (not his sister) came to the dance hell-bent on dancing with Walker. Her mom told me she had been telling her all day that she was going to go the the dance so she could dance with Walker. When that slow song came on, she put him in a choke hold so tight, no one was cutting in.
Walker didn't take it so well. I had a hard time getting good pictures of it because it was so dark in the tent and I was shooting one handed so I couldn't manipulate my camera settings, but the above pictures show Walker's extreme joy at being manhandled by little Maggie. In the photo on the left, Maggie is attempting to do some "Dancing with The Stars" type spins. In the second photo, well, I'm not at all sure what is going on, but he just looks miserable, doesn't he? I'm betting part of him wanted to dance with Ms. Stacy again, and part of him was embarrassed by the extreme affection Maggie was showing him. My guess is that he was torn because he knew he couldn't show her blatant disrespect by telling Maggie he didn't want to dance, but he wanted to make it known to Ms. Stacy that he was available for future dances if she was interested. As soon as that slow dance was over, Walker asked to go home. We walked over to a nearby bench and talked about how it is important for a gentleman to be kind to all the ladies, and that it is OK to dance with lots of girls and be kind to them as their friend. We talked about how some girls don't get asked to dance and that how it makes them feel good when a nice young gentleman asks them to dance - it doesn't meant you have to like them as anything more than a friend, etc.
I don't know how much of it is sinking in, but my hope is that by the time he's a teen, he has incorporated my lectures and is a kind gentleman who will treat the ladies with respect and thoughtfulness and that he will find pleasure in doing so.
After all, he may be my only hope. So far the only signs of sensitivity the other children show is the injustice of them not getting their own way. I guess my first lesson with them will be empathy.
Why I love my sisters
There are many reasons I love my sisters. Probably the biggest reason is that we tease, play and have fun with each other. Case in point - the emails we exchanged today:
From: "Wiggins, Lara"
Date: Thu, 12 Aug 2010 09:20:15 -0400
To: Erin Wiggins; Jennifer Schwalm(E-mail 2); Katie Miknis (E-mail)<
Subject: Criminal Investigation
Good morning.
I have come the realization that one of you is a thief. I noticed something missing on Monday evening as I cleaned up my bathroom. I was at first under the impression it had just been moved to a separate location. Perhaps some one needed it in a different bathroom. However after a thorough search of both Erin's bathroom and Mom's bathroom, I came up empty handed. I soon realized that some one must have stolen it. I'm talking about my HAIR SPRAY! My hair has been soft and shiny all week without my spray. I am truly distraught by the loss. What's worse, it was one of my beloved sisters that pilfered my hair spray. I'm not even sure I want to know which one you is behind this heinous act of theivery. I just want to know one thing:
How do you sleep at night?
Sincerely,
your victimized sister
A.K.A.
Lara Wiggins
Purchasing Dept.
Lezzer Lumber
From: ewiggins
Sent: Thursday, August 12, 2010 9:25 AMTo: Wiggins, Lara; Jen Schwalm; Katie MiknisSubject: Re: Criminal Investigation
Sent: Thursday, August 12, 2010 9:25 AMTo: Wiggins, Lara; Jen Schwalm; Katie MiknisSubject: Re: Criminal Investigation
It was me! But by accident! We have the same kind and I thought it was mine! I'm sorry! I will mail you $3.33 because I know that is how much it costs at Walmart.Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
inspired style you witnessed at Brittany's graduation party. No stinking spray is going to tame that wild beast, so I don't even bother!
I was thinking that maybe a bigger story would be, "Woman gives birth to twins - one is her biological child, the other, her sister's baby!"
From: jennieschwalm
On Aug 12, 2010, at 9:37 AM, Wiggins, Lara wrote:
Erin!?! YOU!?! I can't believe it! I would have expected this from Katie, except she typically borrows mom's things. I even would have suspected Jennie, she's got 4 kids, she needs to find ways to save money. But you? I would never have suspected.
Actually, it's cheaper in the Clearfield Wal-Mart. I'm pretty sure it's like $2.94 here, possibly less.
Original Message-----
From: Jennifer Schwalm
Sent: Thursday, August 12, 2010 11:02 AM
To: Wiggins, Lara
Cc: Katie Miknis
Subject: Re: Criminal Investigation
HEY I may have 4 kids and be a little frugal (ok, cheap) but I don't steal. At least not intentionally! And FYI - my hair is too unruly to be tamed by hairspray as evidenced by the Monica BingFrom: Jennifer Schwalm
Sent: Thursday, August 12, 2010 11:02 AM
To: Wiggins, Lara
Cc: Katie Miknis
Subject: Re: Criminal Investigation
I am deeply offended by your suspicion that I would steal something of yours. I can't find my camera, but I'm not going around accusing one of you guys of stealing it because it was likely one of my children. So, in the future, if you want to accuse someone in my family of stealing, I think pointing the finger at one of my slick fingered kids would be more appropriate.
Good Day!
I said GOOD DAY!
Lara then launches into a completely new line of conversation, linking us to a story about sisters that give birth within 36 hours of each other.
From: "Wiggins, Lara"
Date: Thu, 12 Aug 2010 12:48:33 -0400
To: 'Jennifer Schwalm'
Cc: 'ewiggins Katie Miknis
Subject: RE: Criminal Investigation
What do you think? we could make national news!
On Aug 12, 2010, at 2:11 PM, ewiggins wrote:
Can one of you just have twins and give me one?
From: Jennifer Schwalm
Date: Thu, 12 Aug 2010 14:26:33 -0400
To: <ewiggins
Cc: Lara Wiggins Katie Miknis
Subject: Re: Criminal Investigation
On Aug 12, 2010, at 2:53 PM, ewiggins wrote:
PERFECT! I'm so glad you volunteered! You are such a good sister!Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
From: Jennifer Schwalm
Sent: Thursday, August 12, 2010 2:57 PM
To: ewiggins
Cc: Wiggins, Lara; Katie Miknis
Subject: Re: Criminal Investigation
You better get on the ball - I'm getting OLD!! I'm going to be 35 this year! Sent: Thursday, August 12, 2010 2:57 PM
To: ewiggins
Cc: Wiggins, Lara; Katie Miknis
Subject: Re: Criminal Investigation
From: larawiggins
Subject: RE: Criminal Investigation
Date: August 12, 2010 3:03:31 PM EDT
To: jennieschwalm ewiggins
Cc: kmiknis
Aunt Lisa had a baby at 40. Erin has plenty of time. And besides you did such a good job helping to crate train her dog, I'm sure you can hold onto that baby for the first couple of weeks/months/years to help with its training.
From: ewiggins444
Subject: Re: Criminal Investigation
Date: August 12, 2010 3:10:39 PM EDT
To: jennieschwalm
Cc: larawiggins kmiknis
Reply-To: ewiggins444
Hey, back off MOM (and society)! I'll get married when I get married and I'll have kids (or someone will have them for me) when I'm ready! People have kids older now! Look at Kelly Preston! She's like 49 or something!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry From: larawiggins
Subject: RE: Criminal Investigation
Date: August 12, 2010 3:12:55 PM EDT
To: ewiggins, jennieschwalm
Cc: kmiknis
And WILL!! He was putting some serious pressure on you over the weekend.
From: ewiggins
Subject: Re: Criminal Investigation
Date: August 12, 2010 3:14:41 PM EDT
To: larawiggins, jennieschwalm
Cc: kmiknis
Reply-To: ewiggins
Haha...oh yeah! I'm going to ask him why he's not married next time I see him!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerryFrom: jennieschwalm
Subject: Re: Criminal Investigation
Date: August 12, 2010 3:20:22 PM EDT
To: ewiggins
Cc: larawiggins, kmiknis
I meant I am getting old - not you! Although . . .
Just kidding, Mare!
Fair Dance 2010
Last Friday night we braved the torrential rain and headed up to the fair to participate in the Pedal Tractor Pulls and to let the children go to the 4H dance to celebrate the end of the week.
Here is some not so great video I took with my trusty Canon point-n-shoot of the pedal tractor pull (which Walker took 1st place in his age division) and of the dance later in the evening. Erik and I got so much joy out of watching our kids dance and play. It took them a long time to warm up to the whole dancing thing - well, except for Willie J. He was very enthusiastic about dancing and sidled right up to the speakers and got his groove on. It took Maggie & Walker a little longer to actually start dancing. For a while, Walker kind of just ran around the barn and Maggie just sort of stood there with her hands in her pockets and wiggled. It was quite comical. Finally, during that line dance song that is so annoying where it's a series of slide to the left, slide to the right, jump 5 times, etc., one of the older girls encouraged our children and told them what to do and they LOVED it! I think Walker developed quite a crush on her because the rest of the night he tried to dance within five feet of her. She was so lovely to take time to encourage the children and I don't know her name or anything about her except I love her because she was so lovely to my children.
Watch how Will weaves his way around the dance floor to find someone willing to boogie with him. He'll wander into the middle of a line dance just to get some attention. He doesn't care - he's going to find a dance partner if it kills him!
I'm looking forward to many more years of watching my babies grow and do fun things like this with them and for them. I hope they become treasured memories for them the way they already have for me!
Enjoy!
P.S. Please ignore my cheering during the pedal tractor pull portion of the video - it's hard to be the videographer and mom at the same time. Oh - and I think that is my (insert sarcasm here) wonderful voice you hear singing along during some of the dance video. I didn't realize that little camera had such a good sound recorder!
Tractor Pull and Dance