The Farm Report – Page 97 – Archiving the early years

Potluck 2

June 17, 2008

Neko must have sensed something. Something girl-like was in the air.

A little more than a year after the potluck to say goodbye to Zoe and her family, they returned for a visit. Neko is a shorts and t-shirt girl (when nudity or PJs are not an option), while Zoe is a dress girl.

As we got ready for the potluck, Neko suddenly appeared in a dress, princess shoes, and a headband—an outfit the likes of which we have never seen on her before.

It was great to see the whole family again, meet baby Henry (who is even cuter in real life than in the photos), and revel in a quintessential summer evening complete with homemade ice cream and sprinklers.
Welcome wagon

June 16, 2008

It's official. In a few short weeks, Susie, Doug, Chris, and Alex will be just a walk through the hay away. Welcome to the neighborhood.
Father’s Day

June 15, 2008

It's Father's Day.

I suppose the first thing I should note is that Tom let me go to the last day of my quilting class instead of being home for Father's Day. Of course, he wasn't here for the first part of Mother's Day, so I think we can agree that it's pretty much a wash.

It's always tough to figure out what to do for Father's Day. We're not much for big gifts on that day, but we like to do some sort of thoughtful token. And as the kids get older, I like to have them involved.

This year? We made jam. When the kids found out we were making a surprise for their dad, they dove right in. Neko and Shep cut every strawberry, and took turns squashing them. They supervised from a safe distance while it cooked, and all three kids happily volunteered to test out the results. Later, Neko drew a picture for the lid and wrote out each word while I spelled.

Making these gifts is getting more and more fun. The first few years it was just me who made an effort to tell Tom what a fabulous father he is, but now the kids are getting in on the act, too.

So it might just be a pint of jam, but it represents a world of love and appreciation for all the things Tom does as the dad around here. While I know I provide loads of good experiences for the kids, he teaches them in ways I never could. From robot voices to spinning vinyl, he seamlessly fills in the gaps, and helps to make our kids these whole, amazing people that they have become.

I'd be remiss to not mention my own father, who deserves just as many props on this day. Thank goodness he realizes I've got my hands full guiding my own kids through their first experiences with this holiday, and was happy with just a phone call. Hooray for dads who get it and understand.

Happy Father's Day to you both.
Quilting

June 14, 2008

Tom signed up to take the kids for 2.5 days, and I signed up for a quilting workshop.

I've always wanted to learn to quilt. A few years ago I hacked together a quilt for Tom for Christmas. Although it got pieced and backed, it never got truly quilted. And I was totally winging it.

It was fantastic to hunker down for two solid days and learn how to do things the right way. Although I'm not much of a traditional quilt girl, knowing the basics is an excellent foundation to build on.

Tonight I worked on this table runner. Called a "crazy quilt", it's a sort of quilt that you don't measure or plan. You just use the scraps you have left over. I'm excited to see how I finish this one and how it looks on the table.

Other than the quilting itself, it's been amazing to just get away for a span of time and pour my focus into something that's all about me. Great dinner and conversation with Nancy H. is a big bonus.
Why?

June 13, 2008

When Neko was three, I remember everyone complaining about "why" phase. That thing where they ask why about everything. And while every now and then I got a bit tired of fielding questions, I wasn't really sure why people were making such a fuss.

Shep has now entered his "why" phase and OH MY GOD, now I know what everyone was talking about.

"Where are we going?"

"To the grocery store."

"Why?"

"Because we need groceries."

"Why?"

"Because there's nothing in our refrigerator."

"Why?"

"Because we ate all the food."

"Why?"

"Because we were hungry."

"Why?"

"Because our bodies need nourishment to move and grow."

"Why?"

"Because that's how nature works."

"Why?"

"Because Mother Nature waved her magic wand and said it was so."

"Why?"

"Shep, no more why questions."

(pause)

"Why?"

Tell me this phase ends quickly.
You are now running on reserve battery power

June 12, 2008

More true words have never been spoken. (Photo by Shep.)
Papa Joe turns 66

June 11, 2008

My father turned 66 today.

In my earlier years, I thought 66 sounded really old. Like drooling a nursing home old. But as my parents have crept into their 60s, it's been fun to see them keep growing. And thriving.

In his 60s, I think my father has finally found his groove. He's writing songs and playing gigs. In between he's probably doing nearly as much child care and diaper changes as he did when we were young. He even manages to keep up to speed on food allergies, cutting juice with water and mastering the art of microwave mac & cheese.

We grew up in a household of music, with my dad strumming along a soundtrack. I suspect it's no coincidence that I married a man who plays the guitar. I'm not sure I could fathom raising my kids in a house where someone doesn't spontaneously burst into song or pick at a guitar.

Bonnie, Susie and I went to surprise him tonight while he performed at a fundraiser. An intimate evening, he played to a perfect crowd, who laughed and roared and clapped. Tom had asked me if I wanted to bring the video camera, and I wish I had because I need to remember to capture his performances. Not just the songs, but the banter in between.

I love that he tells these stories. Someday I'll convince him to blog, because, hey, 66 is the age of blogging, haven't you heard? But in the meantime, I'll sit back and listen.

Happy birthday, Papa Joe.
Don’t call Oprah

June 10, 2008

Don't worry, I haven't become of those obsessive hoarding people. There's a good reason you can no longer see our counters due to the horrifying amount of stuff piled in heaps.

The heating and cooling people have come to live at our house, and I'm going to start calling one of them "Eldon" if they don't leave soon. It seems that the heating and cooling that was installed when we built the house wasn't quite adequate for our weird high ceilings and crazy floorplan.

Anyway, the system needed a bit of an "upgrade". I won't bore you with the details, but it involves installing two 12-inch diameter intake ducts that run from the basement to the very highest point in the house. This would have been fine in a normal house, but I maximized every square inch of this house. Whenever I saw the builders come at an empty space with a piece of drywall, I went running and demanded they turn into some sort of shelf or nook. That tactic? Super for storing our stuff, not so good when you need to hide ductwork.

After much soul searching we decided to lose part of the pantry. Not too much, but enough that we had to completely dismantle the entire shelving system and the contents of the pantry are now spread out all over the kitchen.

Somehow we've been cooking and functioning around the piles, but if this goes on much longer I might consider packing up and going back to Toronto.
You say Toronto, I say tomato

June 9, 2008

Tom arrived in Toronto on Saturday, and I arrived Sunday morning. He flew back first thing Monday, while my flight was scheduled for the evening. It seems like kind of a convoluted plan, but we figured as long as we were paying for airfare, we might as well get a visit in, even if we had to split it up a bit on account of limited child care.

So Monday was my day in Toronto. And, I dunno. I'm not sure I get it completely. People had told me great things, but it seems like a city that was glorious 10 years ago but hasn't been able to keep up appearances. I was impressed with how bike-friendly it was—I can only dream that our neck of the woods ever gets that progressive. But it was dirty. And kinda smelly. And I know that's how big cities are and I was only there for 24 hours with limited knowledge, but I never really found myself in a neighborhood that excited me. I kept trying, but ultimately gave up and headed to the Royal Ontario Museum. Neko would have been in complete heaven to have been in the presence of so many dinosaurs bones. I tried to take photos for her, but it's just not the same as standing at the feet of a t-rex or an allosaurus.

By mid-day, I found myself calling the airline and trying to get an earlier flight home. Although I loved being away, I found myself missing the familiar.

In the last few days I finally picked up Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, which Kate N. recommended to me at least a year ago. It's a look into the author's life as she and her family try to live for one year eating only foods they raise or buy from local farmers. It's an amazing look at the journey that our food takes before it comes to sit on our table, and the impact it has on our environment and economy.

By the end of day, thunderstorms rolled in and as I sat trapped in a remote airport terminal for four hours as I waited for my delayed flight. I found myself reading, surrounded by sandwiches enclosed in air-tight plastic boxes, which made me dive even deeper into my book.

While I'm far from being able (or inclined) to jump off the grid, I'm fairly certain there are some changes we can make around here to be more responsible about our choices. First up? I'm diving headlong in strawberry jam. By late summer I'd like to gather tomatoes and basil from our garden and make and can our own sauce. Somewhere in the middle of all this crazy, I'd like to find time for these things.
The National

June 8, 2008

Tom has some friends that are in a band called The National. He often sees them perform when they come to town, but I've never been able to attend a show on account of the fact that our kids like to sleep at night, preferably with adult supervision.

When we found out they would be one of the opening acts for R.E.M. on the North American leg of their tour, it seemed like a good time for me to clear my schedule.

Of course, when you have three children, it's not that easy to get away, so we had to do this whole convoluted thing with flights and coverage and blahblahblah. Bottom line? We made it. However, once I got there I realized I had forgotten somewhat critical things like a hairbrush and my flight itinerary.

I was kicking myself for not bringing the good camera, so you'll all have to make due with this blurry mess, but you get the idea. A bunch of adults doing adult things, none of which involved waiting on someone while they tap impatiently on my knees. Matt even snuck out after their performance and came to sit with all the folks who had made the trip up to see them.

The band sounded amazing and all the guys couldn't have been nicer, and I found myself thinking I should have seen and met them long ago. I couldn't be more excited for them and all the other good stuff that's brewing.

After the concert we made our way to a local bar, the Dakota Tavern, where we saw a band called Monkey Business play a tribute to Chuck Berry, and oh, where was this bar and this band in my twenties, because I could have spent a lot of late nights there. Some of them under a table.

Thanks to Matt for scoring us excellent seats and nudging us into a fabulous, childless night away.