Goodbye house

We loved our little brick house in Arlington.  When we left for the last time, I wanted to mark the occasion a little.  I made a banner, and we all told our favorite things about the house.  Then, before sitting down for a special "Goodbye house" dinner, we all sat in the grass in the front yard and made sketches of the house.  Papa and G worked on the same piece.  H's drawing is below.  From the stone walk and the smoke coming out of the chimney, to the actual semi-correctness of the rendering, I think it's wonderful.  

H is really on a huge drawing kick.  He fills pages and pages each night during our after-dinner music and art time, and there are still intricate stories to go along with each picture.  I hope I can keep him interested as the years fly by.

We will miss our sweet little first home, the place we brought our babies home, but I will always have the memory of watching my family sit on the lawn, drawing together.

Two birthdays

Big brother turned three. He blew out his candles all by himself and gobbled his birthday cupcake in about a minute and a half.
Baby brother turned one a couple of months earlier. I could hardly keep that crown on his head, but he ate his birthday cupcake with a fork (how dainty!) and took an hour about it.

I'm loving both of these ages so much. Especially loving the co-play, and the way the baby looks up to his brother with adoring eyes. Also when Big Brother does something "gentle-ly" for Baby. Which isn't so often, but I choose to focus on the positive. Happy birthdays boys!

Popcorn and popsicles for supper!

This has been a hot summer punctuated by projects (potty training comes to mind) that take more effort and time than you think they will. So about once a week, I find myself left with very little time before supper and nothing in the works. On these days, I've been resorting to a combo of popcorn (popped in delicious coconut oil) and a cold kefir concoction. On this day, the cold kefir of choice was kefir popsicles: kefir, frozen strawberries and honey. Last week, I made vanilla kefir ice cream to go with our popcorn. It was delicious.

Now, I know popcorn and cold, sweetened kefir isn't the most healthy supper option. But it's stress-free for both Mama and her two-year-old and it just feels so much like summer. I guess I'll have to come up with a different crunch-time go-to meal for the winter!
Grady likes popsicles too.

Hello August

Hello. Happy August. I can't believe we're already into the last month of summer. Lately I've been trying to decide if this blog is worth keeping. I feel like I should be pouring my extra time into baby books for the boys or photo albums instead of writing about my crafty and country pursuits on this blog. But I keep coming back (even after extended absences) so I guess we'll see. I'm going to try to get a better rhythm going for August. There are many completed projects that have not yet been shared.

The dapper dandy that you see above is Harry. He is my older son's best friend, a doll made from this pattern for Henry's first birthday. The boy always says, "Harry is a nice doll, Mama." And then he bites him in the belly. All that love, you know. Sometimes Henry loves Harry a little too much, as illustrated by Harry's new chin. His old chin was so loved that there was a gaping hole and stuffing was exposed. We can't have that. So Mama gave him a chin graft. The sad part is that since this photo was taken Harry has lost a leg and he has a hole in his shirt. Both repairs will be happening soon, I hope. I think I'll have to sneak him out of Henry's room in the middle of the night.

Cross-country skis

So, getting back in the swing of things... This winter our area has gotten more snow than it has since the 1890's. This is all old news by now, but I thought I'd share a couple of photos of one of the activities we enjoyed during the snow.

We've had our cross-country skis for a few years, but only managed to use them a couple of times at the farm since our town is pretty good about plowing the roads. All that changed during this series of snows. The top photo shows my set-up with the baby. We are on our street during the initial snowfall-- this was before things got really bad and deep. Skiing on the street was pretty easy; the roads are relatively flat and I think the falling snow was distracting Baby H enough that he wasn't doing too much wiggling. A nice leisurely ski with Brian and only a few minor hiccups (like the house where they got a little snowblower-happy).
Fast-forward a week. With the same set-up, I took Baby H out into the "wilds" of Loudoun County, skiing with my friends Karen and Helen at a farm near Karen's house. This was probably more fun, but definitely much harder. First off, there were hills. When I would settle into chair pose to navigate down a slight incline, the baby would throw himself forward (see below--this was during one of our re-mounting adventures) or to the side, asserting his independence, and it was really hard to stay balanced. I think we fell three or four times. It was hard to get back up because without the skis, my legs sunk through the snow, sometimes up to the hip where snow had drifted. But Helen and Karen were troupers and pulled me out of more than one drift. The baby was a sport too, really, and only cried once. I think he was just taking it all in.

All in all, I'm really glad we got out there despite our limitations (small child, less-than-usually-coordinated mama). And it makes a great story to tell Henry someday about the Great Snow of 2010.

Monday Monday

When we get to this point in the year, things seem to move really fast. Maybe it's the chill breeze in the air, but in the fall I feel like I can't get everything finished in a day or a week or a month. This afternoon I'll be making yogurt and picking up farm share vegetables and just trying to take a breath. I saw a meditation poem on another blog late last month (unfortunately I can't remember which one), and these simple words, repeated with each in and out are really helping me to slow down and calm down in this busy time. Try it:

in, out
deep, slow
calm, ease
smile, release
present moment, beautiful moment

Ah. Isn't that nice? Above is a wee little kangaroo vest that I made (from the book Closely Knit) when I was pregnant with Henry. It's the one-year-old size, done up in Malabrigo worsted, and it's fitting him now, finally (although the head is a little bit of a tight squeeze). I love seeing my baby in things that I've made for him.

Thistles

I've been writing this post in my head for a week. My friend didn't make it home. We weren't ever particularly close, but we knew each other for a long time. The last time I saw her was a couple of years ago-- she was hunting the socks off of an ex-racehorse, galloping away in front of me.

I think what has made my heart heaviest about this terrible event (besides of course the facts and the violence) is that this was a girl who lived her life to the fullest, cheerfully true to herself always. Her positive attitude and peace with herself drew others to her.


The last few mornings, I've woken early, before the baby, to the sound of birds. Lots of them. Talking to each other, greeting the new day. And then the baby chirps from the next room and I rise and we start all over again.

Thanks a lot

Today I'm thankful for:


Our warm little home and cozy basement;


These beautiful birds: the bald eagle who came back to the farm to roost on the dead tree in the hill field on his way South for the season and the red-tailed hawk who followed us with his eyes until we saw him and then swooped low in front of us, showing off, as we walked this morning;


My husband's good job;


Bittersweet and falling leaves;


My family, and getting to see them for the Thanksgiving holiday tomorrow;


A big white dog who will sit! from fifty feet in the face of a bounding deer or a nervous mama cow, but who will go absolutely bananas ("le chien est bananes, b-a-n-a-n-e-s") with a stick in his mouth running down the driveway;


The sweet boy in my belly who kicks when I sing along to Hank Williams on the car radio.

I hope you have a great Thanksgiving tomorrow!


(Now I have to go listen to the Raffi song that inspired the title of this post or else it will be in my head all day-- we sure did listen to a lot of Raffi in the minivan when I was a kid...)

Christmas Knitting

So, long time no blog. Life has gotten in the way. My days have been filled with long walks in the country and baby shopping. A little baby worrying, too, but only because I'm a worrier by nature. Everything is fine. I've been practicing my yoga breathing (right nostril in, left nostril out, ahhh) and singing my ubi caritas in line at the doctor's office and the grocery store. And the boy is growing and kicking inside.

I've also been doing a little Christmas knitting. If you're expecting a gift from me, don't look too closely! Yarns from left to right, for my reference: Socks That Rock lightweight from 2007 Rockin' Sock Club (it looks a lot like Monsoon), Koigu KPPPM, STR medium XMas Rock, some more Koigu KPPPM, STR mediumweight in what could be Lapis (I'm terrible at keeping up with ball bands), and some Silkie STR, also from the 2007 sock club. I think most of the knitting for people with big feet is out of the way. It's amazing how much sock knitting you can get done in the first trimester if you can't get off the couch!

For My February Baby

This little sweater goes part of the way toward explaining where I've been all summer, and why there haven't been any foxhunting reports lately. Our first child, a son, is due at the very beginning of February. I couldn't be more excited!

Knitting on this sweater was a way to keep my hands busy and my mind quiet during the tense and sick first trimester, which seemed to last all summer. I seem to finally have gotten the fabled second trimester energy surge, so hopefully there will be more crafting (and email responding-- I've been absolutely terrible about that all summer; sorry friends) on the horizon. I'm disappointed to be missing the hunting season (as I was telling a hunting friend on the phone this morning, there's really nothing like that feeling), but I'm happy to do it to protect my little one.

Anyway, this is Elizabeth Zimmermann's Baby Sweater on Two Needles (Ravelry link), also known as the February Baby Sweater, from her Knitting Almanac, done up in Rowan Wool Cotton that I had on hand. It was a dream to knit, neither the pattern nor the yarn could have been nicer. I still need to sew on the rest of the buttons, but I can't wait until it helps to keep a little winter-born baby warm in a few months!

Foxhunt Friday: Hilltopping from the Turnpike

The photo above doesn't have anything to do with yesterday's hunting, but I've always really loved the lived-in look of that barn on the corner.

Yesterday was colder than Tuesday and Wednesday were, so I was a little worried about how Joshua would behave. A cold snap sometimes makes a horse crazy or excited. But he was a perfect gentleman for the whole meet. We met at 10 am (gotta love those later meets) at a farm on the Snickersville Turnpike past Sam Fred Road. The country really opens out down there, with large, more manicured farms and more stone walls than you find over our way.

The field was a good Thursday size, about 4 in the first flight and maybe 10 hilltoppers. The two old men on chestnuts were there with their flasks, constantly asking, "have the ladies (point with opened flask here) up front been adequately served?" They do this on Thursdays instead of golf, and one of them has a wife who is honestly named "Queenie". She is very nice.

All this is to say that there was the usual constant chatter from one saddle to another. But there was also a moment when we came up a hill and checked on the top and everything seemed so very clear and still. Almost transcendent. Then an airplane passed high over head and we looked up to trace its path and then almost immediately back down as we heard hound music in the woods below us.

The pack chased two foxes at once, moving in the same direction. Then one fox split off and ran right beside us in the woods below a dam. We heard him (bigger than a squirrel, smaller than a deer) but didn't see him or know it was him until the pack doubled back in our direction and we ran that fox for a good long while. A run like that is joy on the wing.

Those are the two moments that I hope to remember from yesterday: the still, clear one followed by the free, winging one. I think those are the types of moments that I seek in my life as a whole, too. Moments when I'm myself, in focus, immersed in a world fully realized.

Trees in two colors

I'm sitting here waiting for the chimney sweep to come and inspect our flue so that maybe we can light a warming fire tonight. It's bitter cold here and windy, desolate and bare really. All the greens and blues in grass and water are greyed out, and the wind has swept the world flat. I'm not a huge fan of this time of year, but the grey light of the short cold days does make for really good photographs of tree silhouettes.

For some reason I'm a little bit obsessed with the shapes of the trees, especially against a background of sky. It could be the elementary school art class where we were taught to draw nothing but (fairly realistic for an eight-year-old, I'll give the teacher that much) trees for weeks on end, but I think that there are few things more beautiful.

The two-color tree silhouette also inspired our Gocco-ed holiday card this year, a take on this photograph. I love how the red ink from the "peace" message sneaks up into the rest of the picture, more or less in certain prints -- it's the same way that I like to think of peace sneaking into my life, more or less on certain days.

Stay warm, friends.

Three years ago today

Today was hot and muggy, with a haze that settled around the hills like the fog does in fall. God, could we use some rain.

Today was very unlike the beautiful cool day three years ago when we got married. With everyone we love behind us and the whole world ahead of us.

Happy Anniversary, B-- here's to the next three (and thirty!) years. <3

The first post is the hardest

It's hard for me to put myself out there in the world.

I was listening to a podcast of This American Life this morning, the one entitled, "Man vs. History" . Ira & Co. profiled Dal Lamagna, CEO of Tweezerman Corporation, and his trip to Iraq as a citizen diplomat. During the course of the program, he said something to the effect of 'entrepreneurs are used to going out and getting things done.' This was why he felt that he was qualified to 'get something done' about the problems in Iraq.

Although I admire Mr. Lamagna's sheer bravery for going to Iraq and for staring the problems there straight in the face, his personality couldn't be farther from mine. When I was in high school my mother had to force me to make phone calls to doctors and bankers and other adults-- in fact I didn't get over my fear of people judging me over the phone until I got a job where I was shot down over the phone multiple times each day.

But I do have definite opinions about things. And I do want to share. I create things, mostly with fiber and fabric and paper (not all at the same time... usually). So I'm putting myself out there-- open to judgment. This blog will hold farm stories and life stories and a record of my many projects (hopefully it will help me finish some of them!)

The baby hats above are from Susan B. Anderson's book Itty-Bitty Hats, made in cotton for two babies with summer birthdays. Much cuter on baby noggins than on my side table!