We've been living in a travel trailer... in the driveway... at my parents'... for a month now. So far things have been supernaturally going swimmingly. Truly. We give God the glory and praise for the peace and enjoyment we've had while living out this little adventure. We've taken opportunities to spend a day at the coast, a few miscellaneous date nights for Mike and I, rotated cooking dinners and trying new recipes (pan-fried oysters, marsala chicken with gorgonzola cheese, sausage with apples and sweet potatoes, etc.), lounged by the fireplace and indulged in near-nightly popcorn and numerous episodes of Cold Case (and been subjected to a few hunting videos- rather unwillingly for yours truly), polished off bags and loaves of gluten-free this and that and stayed up many a late night listening to the rain, wind and occasional snow/hail pelt the trailer.
Trailer life has been pretty eventful. It took us a little while to adjust to the occasional headlights shining through the windows and the late-night snow-tired-studded cruiser practically crawling down the street. It took us a little longer to ignore the near gale-like winds rocking the trailer from side to side. I didn't get used to the propane running out in the middle of the night and leaving us without heat; the snow outside on the ground made sure the propane tanks were refilled in time for the next sleep. The leak that sprang from the vent above our bed wasn't allowed to drip for too long before being addressed. The tarp that was placed over that vent to keep the weather and water out worked great, even though the rain came down in sheets that night. Another perk of that tarp: even though there were near-unmeasurable quantities of rain I could've sworn I could count every single drop as each drop hit that tarp. The mold that we found creeping up the walls is apparently of the non-toxic genre; I swear I had trouble breathing the night we discovered it but my sore throat was gone pretty quickly the next day. The mold actually cleans up quite nicely but for now we're going to be bunking with the girls in the back bedroom of the house. It gives us just a little more twist to this crazy adventure.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Thursday, January 19, 2012
"...She said to herself..."
Eileigh has been cracking me up lately. I find myself scribbling down things she says throughout the day on whatever scraps of paper I can find... all to be transcribed at some point into my journal for future reflection and enjoyment. I understand that no one else will find these even as close to amusing as do her parents but I wanted to have them all in one spot. So bear with a mother who adores her children. :)
She has taken to occasionally narrating what she is doing. Often I will hear her quietly talking to herself and she will finish it with "... she said to herself."
We had "Porcupines" for dinner- you know, meatballs with rice. Eileigh asked her proud Daddy if he shot the porcupine we were eating. (Answer: kind of. It was really deer meat and he had harvested it... so... yes?)
She loves to cook in her play kitchen. Today at nap time she informed me that she was making a cake... flour, eggs, and "I pinched a little bit of salt. I pinched it." while holding up her fingers to show me just a little bit.
She referred to her Papa and Grammie. I clarified, Papa Jack and Grammie Coffee? She answered, "Your husband's mommy and daddy." Okay then!
We were looking at a picture of otters sitting on a plaid blanket and having a picnic lunch of minnows, bread and sparkling cider. She said "They can't have bibs!" Of course I thought it might be because otters don't generally sit around having picnic lunches but I just asked her, Why not? Her insightful answer: "Because the fishies aren't messy."
She will occasionally respond to me with, "Yes, your Majesty" or "Yes, my Majesty". I really don't see the need for correction on this one. :)
She has taken to occasionally narrating what she is doing. Often I will hear her quietly talking to herself and she will finish it with "... she said to herself."
We had "Porcupines" for dinner- you know, meatballs with rice. Eileigh asked her proud Daddy if he shot the porcupine we were eating. (Answer: kind of. It was really deer meat and he had harvested it... so... yes?)
She loves to cook in her play kitchen. Today at nap time she informed me that she was making a cake... flour, eggs, and "I pinched a little bit of salt. I pinched it." while holding up her fingers to show me just a little bit.
She referred to her Papa and Grammie. I clarified, Papa Jack and Grammie Coffee? She answered, "Your husband's mommy and daddy." Okay then!
We were looking at a picture of otters sitting on a plaid blanket and having a picnic lunch of minnows, bread and sparkling cider. She said "They can't have bibs!" Of course I thought it might be because otters don't generally sit around having picnic lunches but I just asked her, Why not? Her insightful answer: "Because the fishies aren't messy."
She will occasionally respond to me with, "Yes, your Majesty" or "Yes, my Majesty". I really don't see the need for correction on this one. :)
Friday, January 6, 2012
Stuffed Pillowcases: Deep Thoughts
Tip: Put your bedsheets and second pillowcase inside the first one for storage.
Question: Why would I ever want to do that?
Theory: Keeps everything together, no spare pillowcase to get lost.
Rebuttal: I hate this tip. I even tried it once and cannot make it work. I have an absolutely lovely friend whose life has been completely renewed by now stuffing her pillowcases in this manner. I think what drives me nuts first of all is that it makes just an unsightly lump of sack-filled sheets unfit for stacking and better equipped for stuffing into an already packed closet shelf. Furthermore, my pillowcases are apparently too long and end up having a tail (do I fold it back under or do I just loosen up the whole package and let it ooze out over the shelf?), becoming the very antithesis of a neatly folded pile. I also must question the obvious... how do pillowcases get lost on a closet shelf? If they are removed by someone needing a clean pillowcase then it is just as possible to lose one housed in a pillowcase-sack as it is in a pillowcase-pile. The return of wayward single pillowcase is just as easy (and dare I say easier?) to a stack than a sack. Finally (and this moves beyond a deep thought to a deep-seated issue), by having all of the sheets inside a pillowcase, the pillowcase is open and exposed, most of its surfaces touching and being touched by any manner of objects. Completely negates the freshness factor a tightly folded pillowcase can bring to a newly dressed bed.
Solution: After laundering a set of bedsheets and pillowcases, fold each item as neatly as you prefer, place altogether in a stack (prodigal pillowcase option: sandwich folded pillowcases in between the flat and the fitted) and stuff as neatly as preferred into whatever space is available on the shelf.
Warning: If you ever stop by for a visit, don't open the door to my linen closet. You may have a pile of sheets fall out neatly on your head.
Question: Why would I ever want to do that?
Theory: Keeps everything together, no spare pillowcase to get lost.
Rebuttal: I hate this tip. I even tried it once and cannot make it work. I have an absolutely lovely friend whose life has been completely renewed by now stuffing her pillowcases in this manner. I think what drives me nuts first of all is that it makes just an unsightly lump of sack-filled sheets unfit for stacking and better equipped for stuffing into an already packed closet shelf. Furthermore, my pillowcases are apparently too long and end up having a tail (do I fold it back under or do I just loosen up the whole package and let it ooze out over the shelf?), becoming the very antithesis of a neatly folded pile. I also must question the obvious... how do pillowcases get lost on a closet shelf? If they are removed by someone needing a clean pillowcase then it is just as possible to lose one housed in a pillowcase-sack as it is in a pillowcase-pile. The return of wayward single pillowcase is just as easy (and dare I say easier?) to a stack than a sack. Finally (and this moves beyond a deep thought to a deep-seated issue), by having all of the sheets inside a pillowcase, the pillowcase is open and exposed, most of its surfaces touching and being touched by any manner of objects. Completely negates the freshness factor a tightly folded pillowcase can bring to a newly dressed bed.
Solution: After laundering a set of bedsheets and pillowcases, fold each item as neatly as you prefer, place altogether in a stack (prodigal pillowcase option: sandwich folded pillowcases in between the flat and the fitted) and stuff as neatly as preferred into whatever space is available on the shelf.
Warning: If you ever stop by for a visit, don't open the door to my linen closet. You may have a pile of sheets fall out neatly on your head.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Taking the Trash Out: A Doctor's Visit
I fight and I fight. Sometimes I gain some turf. Sometimes it's a losing battle. What is this battle, you ask? It's one I think most, if not all mothers... wives... women (I don't know how much to generalize here- maybe it really is just me) wrestle with. Maintenance vs. Letting Things Go. Balance. Class vs. Trash. Today= Class 0, Trash 1.
I would just like to note beforehand that as of late we've been coasting along pretty well. I took Eileigh's questions about getting dressed ("Where are we going?") and house cleaning ("Is Daddy coming home today?") to heart and decided that perhaps I was flirting dangerously with a line that is best avoided and have been working to improve such areas. This of course includes demolishing certain post-childbirth beliefs such as putting a bra on underneath the sweats you wore to bed the night before consists of "getting dressed for the day". Needless to say, it's a work in progress.
Last night the girls both spiked pretty high fevers after a day of... let's just say an extremely quickly moving digestive system. I was up throughout the night with Eileigh, who seemed to suffer the most. Selah's fever broke around 4:30am and they both crawled into bed with me around 5:00am, insisting they really would go to sleep and allow me a few moments of restful bliss as well. Eileigh kept worming her way on top of me while Selah spent her time alternating between quietly sucking her thumb and punctuating the quiet darkness with a quick jab to my eye, "Eye", a strong grip of fingers squeezing my chin, "Chin", and a deft single-hair-pulling pluck, "Hair". I decided we could work on co-sleeping another time and they slept a couple more hours back in their own beds.
I dragged through the morning, changing Selah at least three times due to unfortunate leakage. The kind where the diaper doesn't even have time to absorb the fast flow so it just shoots out the side and down the leg. I decided to put Selah in a cloth diaper for our mid-morning trip to the doctor's since cloth (although not thrilling to clean when sick) does a much better job of containing said liquid contaminants. Due to an important phone call, a late start and the inevitable getting-stuck-behind-the-truck-driving-15-miles-below-the-speed-limit I breezed into the doctors' office about 10 minutes late. However, a few other things were right on schedule. That would be Selah's impeccable timing of removing both socks and shoes three minutes before our (late) arrival and her subsequent chucking and losing of one sock somewhere to the recesses of our car. As I pulled her from the carseat I also happened to notice she had completely soaked through her diaper, onesie and pants. Much to my relief it was only urine. Much to my chagrin, in the haste to get out the door I had neglected to pack any spare clothing for her and found myself with a half-naked little girl running around the lobby in only a diaper and a thermal hoodie. Much to my further dismay I discovered that the only spare Selah-sized item of clothing I had in the diaper bag was in fact one sad, lone, gray-heeled sock. I now realized I had to make the choice of either putting her shoes of choice (dressy black Mary Janes) back on her without socks OR putting the pants-less girl in one athletic gray-heeled sock and one green-scalloped-edged dress sock. Seeing as how it is winter time and since I'm out of running for Mother-of-the-Year already I decided to go with the mismatched socks and buckled the dress shoes back on. About that time Eileigh decided she was too hot and took off her turquoise jacket. Light bulb went on and I thought, Hey, that should be long enough to cover most of Selah's legs... almost like a dress. That would be soo much better. So I put it on Selah. Not only was it not even close to long enough to cover the diaper, I was forced to roll up the sleeves about four times since Selah instantly loved wearing Eileigh's jacket and wouldn't take it off willingly for anything. She waltzed all around the lobby proudly while I slunk down into acceptance: Yep, I'm that mom.
I know what they say: You win some, you lose some. I think losing a big chunk of pride might be the best win of all. Embarrassing almost to the point of painful. Nothing like these God-gifts we call children to humble the pride right out of you. Tomorrow I start afresh. And with a full set of spare clothes packed in the diaper bag.
I would just like to note beforehand that as of late we've been coasting along pretty well. I took Eileigh's questions about getting dressed ("Where are we going?") and house cleaning ("Is Daddy coming home today?") to heart and decided that perhaps I was flirting dangerously with a line that is best avoided and have been working to improve such areas. This of course includes demolishing certain post-childbirth beliefs such as putting a bra on underneath the sweats you wore to bed the night before consists of "getting dressed for the day". Needless to say, it's a work in progress.
Last night the girls both spiked pretty high fevers after a day of... let's just say an extremely quickly moving digestive system. I was up throughout the night with Eileigh, who seemed to suffer the most. Selah's fever broke around 4:30am and they both crawled into bed with me around 5:00am, insisting they really would go to sleep and allow me a few moments of restful bliss as well. Eileigh kept worming her way on top of me while Selah spent her time alternating between quietly sucking her thumb and punctuating the quiet darkness with a quick jab to my eye, "Eye", a strong grip of fingers squeezing my chin, "Chin", and a deft single-hair-pulling pluck, "Hair". I decided we could work on co-sleeping another time and they slept a couple more hours back in their own beds.
I dragged through the morning, changing Selah at least three times due to unfortunate leakage. The kind where the diaper doesn't even have time to absorb the fast flow so it just shoots out the side and down the leg. I decided to put Selah in a cloth diaper for our mid-morning trip to the doctor's since cloth (although not thrilling to clean when sick) does a much better job of containing said liquid contaminants. Due to an important phone call, a late start and the inevitable getting-stuck-behind-the-truck-driving-15-miles-below-the-speed-limit I breezed into the doctors' office about 10 minutes late. However, a few other things were right on schedule. That would be Selah's impeccable timing of removing both socks and shoes three minutes before our (late) arrival and her subsequent chucking and losing of one sock somewhere to the recesses of our car. As I pulled her from the carseat I also happened to notice she had completely soaked through her diaper, onesie and pants. Much to my relief it was only urine. Much to my chagrin, in the haste to get out the door I had neglected to pack any spare clothing for her and found myself with a half-naked little girl running around the lobby in only a diaper and a thermal hoodie. Much to my further dismay I discovered that the only spare Selah-sized item of clothing I had in the diaper bag was in fact one sad, lone, gray-heeled sock. I now realized I had to make the choice of either putting her shoes of choice (dressy black Mary Janes) back on her without socks OR putting the pants-less girl in one athletic gray-heeled sock and one green-scalloped-edged dress sock. Seeing as how it is winter time and since I'm out of running for Mother-of-the-Year already I decided to go with the mismatched socks and buckled the dress shoes back on. About that time Eileigh decided she was too hot and took off her turquoise jacket. Light bulb went on and I thought, Hey, that should be long enough to cover most of Selah's legs... almost like a dress. That would be soo much better. So I put it on Selah. Not only was it not even close to long enough to cover the diaper, I was forced to roll up the sleeves about four times since Selah instantly loved wearing Eileigh's jacket and wouldn't take it off willingly for anything. She waltzed all around the lobby proudly while I slunk down into acceptance: Yep, I'm that mom.
I know what they say: You win some, you lose some. I think losing a big chunk of pride might be the best win of all. Embarrassing almost to the point of painful. Nothing like these God-gifts we call children to humble the pride right out of you. Tomorrow I start afresh. And with a full set of spare clothes packed in the diaper bag.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
EGGnog: The Real Deal
Tradition has it that every year (at least for the last three or four years) I whip up a batch of eggnog. Of course I only do it at Christmas time and it is indubitably declared a delicious but once-a-year indulgence. All that is now going to change. I foresee an integration of this beverage into our regular, non-holiday existence. This is because I now have a recipe so healthy it's almost a crime NOT to drink it on a reasonably regular basis. Chock full of a few of my favorite things: raw milk, raw egg yolks and raw honey. It tastes AMAZEing. Much better than the high fructose CornNog at the store. :) As always, get your food from a reputable source and make sure the cows are grass fed and the chickies are pasture run (the closer to orange your yolks are, the better). Save the egg whites to make meringue since raw egg whites can block your body's absorption of biotin (resulting in hair loss... not highly recommended). I'm told that freshly grated nutmeg really "makes" this recipe and maybe I'll get myself a little nutmeg grinder in the future but for now I'm going to use up the rest of my already-ground nutmeg. It's still delish. The girls surely think so.
Eggnog
2 c. raw whole milk
2 c. cream (preferably raw, at least organic, not ultra-pasteurized)
8 large egg yolks (preferably pastured, at least organic free-range)
1/4 c. raw honey or Grade B maple syrup
1 tsp. vanilla extract (I used homemade vanilla extract made with rum for extra flavor)
Freshly grated nutmeg to sprinkle on topOptional: Good Kentucky bourbon or rum
Blend ingredients together in blender or food processor until smooth. Pour into glasses and add bourbon or rum if desired. Grate fresh nutmeg over each glass and serve.
Good....
...to the last....
drop.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
First Letter to Santa: Snowman edition
Most of what we've told the girls about Santa has been in relation to the historical Saint Nicholas, peppered in with some info about his "helpers" that you see dressed up around the malls and finally topped off with a small amount of whimsy as the "elves" bring the girls goodies every morning in the Elf Pails hanging on the Christmas tree. It makes for some interesting questions, such as "How do the elves get to our house every morning? Do they walk?" (we thought that perhaps they take Santa's sleigh out for a spin...)... until... "Is Santa up in Heaven?" and then it all gets a bunch more muddled from there.
At the post office a couple days ago Eileigh spotted the little red mailbox for the Santa letters and insisted that she get hers mailed off. I think it had more to do with the stamping and mailing than it did with Santa but she proudly drew her snowman and then asked me how to spell Santa's name, carefully writing each letter after I said it. Just so you know, she didn't scribble over his eyes, she just colored them in because they needed to be brown. (This was with a black pen. Eh. You win some, you lose some.)
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Coq Au Vin at Le Fire Stationne
Sure that's French. Rolls right off the tongue. Better than "caserne de pompiers" which would be the official French phrase for fire station as defined by the dictionary (or at least the first French definition that Googled itself up). As long as you say it with a French accent you'll be good to go. Now this story just got a little better. As I further realized I don't actually know how an (authentic) French-speaking person would pronounce Coq Au Vin I decided to Google that up as well. I'd been pronouncing it "coke au vinn" to myself and anyone in hearing range so I snickered as I read the pronunciation and then listened to the audio clip: kawk au VAN. Then the light shone through my mental fog as I further realized it did not just mean Chicken In Wine but in fact, the literal translation would be Cock in Wine. I think I may have snickered myself back to Jr. High. Luckily Mike's working and I've been spared the official eye roll. :)
So this morning we planned on a make-up Music class session and then ferrying dinner over to Mike at the station. Do you ever have those days where you're all dressed up and ready to go and just want to get out and do whatever, enjoy your freedom... Why does it always happen to be that ONE day that you already have something else to do that's important? Why couldn't I get one of those motivated-for-fun days on a day that I often end up wearing exactly what I slept in the night before because I have no good reason to get out of those grubbies? (These would be days Mike is on shift. Mostly.) All this to say that I ran out of time and had to choose: Class or Coq?
Coq au vin (winner!) was surprisingly simple for all of the flavor going on. Perhaps that's because it's braised in an entire bottle of red wine. I love this meal for winter- I think of it as highfalutin' comfort food. Simple. GOOD. Just make sure you get the pronunciation correct when you serve it to your dinner guests.
Coq Au Vin
4 Tbsp. butter
4 lbs. bone-in, skin-on chicken pieces (split breasts cut in half, drumsticks and/or thighs)
Sea salt and pepper
10 oz. or about 1-1/2 c. mushrooms, cleaned and quartered (I used 12 oz... the more the merrier)
1 c. sliced shallots
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp. fresh thyme leaves
1 tsp. fresh rosemary
1 Tbsp. tomato paste
1 bottle dry red wine
3 c. chicken broth
3 bay leaves
2 Tbsp. butter, chilled and cut into pieces (to be added at the end of cooking, optional but do it)
2 Tbsp. minced fresh parsley
Heat the butter in a large Dutch oven over medium high heat. Season the chicken with salt and pepper and brown on both sides for about 8-10 minutes. Reduce the heat if the pan begins to scorch. You may need to brown the chicken in two batches depending on the size of your pan. Transfer the browned chicken to a plate.
Pour off all but 1 Tbsp. of the liquid left in the pan and cook mushrooms, shallots and salt over medium heat until lightly browned or for about 10 minutes. Stir in the garlic, thyme and rosemary and cook for 30 seconds longer. Stir in tomato paste and cook for 1 minute longer, stirring constantly. Slowly add wine while scraping up any browned bits on the bottom of the pan. Then slowly stir in the chicken broth. Stir in the bay leaves and bring to a slow simmer.
Add the chicken back into the pot making sure all the pieces are covered with the braising liquid. Cover and reduce the heat to medium-low. Simmer gently until the chicken is fully cooked. This will take about 40 minutes.
Transfer the chicken to your serving platter and over to keep warm. Continue to simmer the braising liquid over medium-high heat until it has thickened and measures about 2 cups. This will take about 20 minutes longer. Once you reach this point, turn off the heat, remove the bay leaves, whisk in the chilled butter (optional but not really, you must do it), and season with salt and pepper to taste. Spoon sauce over the chicken and sprinkle with parsley.
Visiting Daddy at the Station is never complete without a thorough exploration of the "Weeyu-weeyus".
So this morning we planned on a make-up Music class session and then ferrying dinner over to Mike at the station. Do you ever have those days where you're all dressed up and ready to go and just want to get out and do whatever, enjoy your freedom... Why does it always happen to be that ONE day that you already have something else to do that's important? Why couldn't I get one of those motivated-for-fun days on a day that I often end up wearing exactly what I slept in the night before because I have no good reason to get out of those grubbies? (These would be days Mike is on shift. Mostly.) All this to say that I ran out of time and had to choose: Class or Coq?
Coq au vin (winner!) was surprisingly simple for all of the flavor going on. Perhaps that's because it's braised in an entire bottle of red wine. I love this meal for winter- I think of it as highfalutin' comfort food. Simple. GOOD. Just make sure you get the pronunciation correct when you serve it to your dinner guests.
Coq Au Vin
4 Tbsp. butter
4 lbs. bone-in, skin-on chicken pieces (split breasts cut in half, drumsticks and/or thighs)
Sea salt and pepper
10 oz. or about 1-1/2 c. mushrooms, cleaned and quartered (I used 12 oz... the more the merrier)
1 c. sliced shallots
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp. fresh thyme leaves
1 tsp. fresh rosemary
1 Tbsp. tomato paste
1 bottle dry red wine
3 c. chicken broth
3 bay leaves
2 Tbsp. butter, chilled and cut into pieces (to be added at the end of cooking, optional but do it)
2 Tbsp. minced fresh parsley
Heat the butter in a large Dutch oven over medium high heat. Season the chicken with salt and pepper and brown on both sides for about 8-10 minutes. Reduce the heat if the pan begins to scorch. You may need to brown the chicken in two batches depending on the size of your pan. Transfer the browned chicken to a plate.
Pour off all but 1 Tbsp. of the liquid left in the pan and cook mushrooms, shallots and salt over medium heat until lightly browned or for about 10 minutes. Stir in the garlic, thyme and rosemary and cook for 30 seconds longer. Stir in tomato paste and cook for 1 minute longer, stirring constantly. Slowly add wine while scraping up any browned bits on the bottom of the pan. Then slowly stir in the chicken broth. Stir in the bay leaves and bring to a slow simmer.
Add the chicken back into the pot making sure all the pieces are covered with the braising liquid. Cover and reduce the heat to medium-low. Simmer gently until the chicken is fully cooked. This will take about 40 minutes.
Transfer the chicken to your serving platter and over to keep warm. Continue to simmer the braising liquid over medium-high heat until it has thickened and measures about 2 cups. This will take about 20 minutes longer. Once you reach this point, turn off the heat, remove the bay leaves, whisk in the chilled butter (optional but not really, you must do it), and season with salt and pepper to taste. Spoon sauce over the chicken and sprinkle with parsley.
Visiting Daddy at the Station is never complete without a thorough exploration of the "Weeyu-weeyus".
Eileigh's favorite: pulling the cord for the bell
Oh how I love this girl!
Note: not a fan of loud noises. Or even slightly noisy ones.
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