Ding-Dong Dilemma

I gave my boys Twinkies today for the first time ever! I’m not one to forbid sweets, really. We eat ice cream often, popsicles now and then and little candies every once in a while. For some reason Twinkies just gross me out. I think it’s the 2026 day shelf-life. I mean the fact that a Twinkie has a better chance of surviving a natural disaster or a nuclear holocaust than my cat is a serious deterrent in my consideration of whether or not to eat the thing. (For the record, I wouldn’t eat my cat either). Today was the last day of school. We had a lovely, active time at the school field day and a sweet, together-time at the movie theater watching “Up.” To cap the day off I told them I would break my ban on Twinkies and allow them each a little taste. When we got to the grocery store and ventured into the previously undiscovered territory known as the hostess section they were momentarily overcome by the array of forbidden fruits that lay before them. Should they go with their instinct and satisfy their longing for a taste of Twinkie or should they act on a blissful impulse and go for a Zinger or maybe even a Ding-Dong? I jokingly told them that if they chose the Twinkie they wold only have to wait another eight to ten years before they were allowed to try another variety of Hostess cake. Jude, who never fails to put things into perspective, incredulously remarked that at that rate he would get his driver’s license before he ever got a Ding-Dong!

Thankful Thursday

So this is my first shot at a “scheduled” blog post.  I can’t seem to think of much that is worth putting out there for the blog world to read lately, so I giving some kind of formulaic something a go.  Maybe this is what I need to get my brain kick-started for the jump back into blog land.  I’m not the best at rules-following, so we’ll see how this kind of thing works out for me. “Thankful Thursday” seems like a good place to start.  I have a natural tendency toward sarcasm, melancholy and sometimes cynicism, but think that gratitude and choosing to be thankful are important life-skills.  A weekly exercise in being glad for what I’ve been given, I think, is a good idea.

No, they don't always look like this. But smoothie moustaches are fun!

All that said, This week (and always), I am thankful for my two boys.  When I was a little girl, dreaming about life as a grown woman, I never envisioned myself having boys.  I was an outright priss.  I might have done some things to appease my less prissy sister, like play Star Wars, but I was NOT going to be anything other than princess Leia herself.  No, thank you, you can be R2D2 today.  I would rather sit here and lead the rebel alliance in my flowy white robe with my hair in these super-pretty buns, thank you.  In fact, I was sure that the ideal kid-situation for me would be limited to a number of two, and include only sparkly, little, beribboned, curly-haired girls.  These were my foolish plans, anyway.  I am so grateful that God saw fit to bless me, instead, with two loud, smelly, hate-to-comb-their-hair, messy little boys.  Having a child, no matter what the gender, changes your life forever.  Having little boys has changed, not only my life, it has changed me.  Changed me to my core.  It has made me real.  They are my velveteen.  They make me loved.  They make me cry.  They make me frustrated.  They make me melt.  They have made me learn to love.  And love, not for an ideal, but for real.  They have taught me to cuddle, even when I would rather, clench my jaw.  They have taught me to laugh, even when I would rather yell.  They have taught me to discipline, even when I would rather smirk and giggle.  They have taught me to be patient and understanding, even when I would rather quickly judge.  They’ve taught me to get outside and run, even when I would rather sit.  Someday still, a little closet full of tutus and and polka dots, might be welcome.  But I wouldn’t trade a whole Barbie dream house full of hair bows and glitter for my precious, life-giving, heart-satisfying boys!

Blogger’s Block

Dear Readers (if there are any of you out there any more),

I am sorry.  I have been a dead-beat blogger.  I have gone radio-silent for far too long.  I’ve dropped off the face of the blogosphere.  I still think this blogging thing is really cool, and pretty fun.  I still read loads of blogs (probably too many for my own good), and I think I ought to begin contributing again to the blogging pool.  I just haven’t had much I’d like to blog about lately.  In fact, let me be honest.  wrote the seven sentences above at about 9:00 this morning.  It is now 3:40 pm and I have absolutely no idea how to continue this open letter to you, my dear readers.

I guess my dilemma is this:  What could I write about on a regular basis that would be of any practical, inspirational, memorial, comical, or any 0ther-al value?  I honestly haven’t got a clue.  I would call it writer’s block or something, but I’m not a writer, so how can I have that kind of blockage? 

I think I need something to jump start my blog.  Something that would get me in the habit of blogging on particular days of the week.  I’ve heard of little gimmicky things other bloggers use.  Things like “Not-me Monday”, in which the blogger subverts the high cost of therapy by confessing their mistakes to the blog world.  Or other stuff like “Tidy-up Tuesday,” in which the blogger chooses one thing to organize or straighten and then shares that with the blog world.  Meh.  I’m not sure if I want to do those.  They’re good ideas, but I’m not one for organizing my pantry lately, and I think I might just cheat on the “not-me” thing.  I mean, I probably wouldn’t go around sharing all my major mistakes with everyone who has access to the internet.  I think I’d probably just share the dumb stuff like “I confess, I broke that three-second rule and ate something which had been sitting on the floor for an indeterminate amount of time.”  Gross?  Yes.  Funny?  Maybe.  Meaningful?  Hardly.  I think I’d rather just share the “innermost” stuff with a therapist.  (Kristen, are you taking new patients?)  There’s “Thankful Thursday.”  That one sounds like a good idea.  Maybe I should try an exercise in gratitude once a week.  It would probably be good for me.  But I, since I am a bit of cynic sometimes, I think that Thursday might roll around, rearing it’s thankful head, and I would be in a scrooge-mood and just feel disingenuous for blogging about how great my life is. 

So, readers and fellow bloggers, I need some inspiration.  What do you do?  What gimmicks do you employ to get your blog cogs turning?  Send your ideas my way!

Gratefully,

Sara

Bonus Points for Pronouncing this Correctly

Y-E-R-G-A-C-H-E-F-F-E. Even more points if you can minimize your screen*NOW* and spell this word correctly without looking.

My husband and I have been trying to make more conscientious choices with our food products lately. Actually we’ve been trying to be more conscientious about all of our purchases, but since we are a one-income household with two small tenants (i.e. children), food is where the bulk of our budget goes, and is thus the place where the bulk of our efforts have been concentrated. You will remember that we have both blogged about our CSA, where we now get all of our veggies and some of our fruits. We have also been baking our own bread and making our own yogurt. This gives us more control over what we are putting into our bodies, thereby greatly narrowing the scope of chemicals and preservatives coursing through our systems. Since we don’t want the conscientiousness to stop with “local” and “me” we are also trying to be aware of the places where our food comes from. Hearing reports of grave social injustice in the chocolate industry, specifically cacao bean harvesting, and having seen the living conditions of the types of people often enlisted to harvest beans on coffee plantations, we are also trying to make sure that the foods we eat which are purchased from a foreign market are fair trade products.

I used to buy whatever coffee was on sale at the supermarket. Then I started buying coffee from whatever brand, be it Starbuck’s or Peet’s or whoever, that were certified fair trade beans. Then, after hearing some statistics (like, from all of the beans sold by Starbuck’s corporation, only about 6% are actually certified fair trade), I decided that I would try to buy from a local company which sells all fair trade and all organic products. Enter Olympia Coffee Roasting. I’ve purchased from a number of espresso stands, mostly drive-through places, which use Olympia Coffee Roasting products and have really enjoyed the coffee. A few days ago I made the trip downtown to try a cup direct from the roaster and buy a pound of beans. (Incidentally, they are one of the few places around which actually have one of these super cool Clover machines for coffee brewing – and also incidentally my cup of joe did not cost anywhere near $22 like they charge at the fancy-schmancy place in the article! I’ve actually been to that coffee joint in Chicago and even if it was really cool, it still couldn’t justify such a ludicrous price tag for their brewed beverage. I need to check my reciept, but I think I may have even gotten it for free, or for like a dollar or something). The guy at the counter was incredibly friendly, one of the nicest service-counter employees I’ve met in a long time, and totally patient with me as I hemmed and hawed over my choice. I drank a cup of Nicaraguan Termopilas and enjoyed it but decided to buy a different hill of beans. Then, I sampled some Ethiopian Yergacheffe and made my decision to buy a pound. I think I am in love. I recently had the inane thought that I might give up coffee for my daily morning ritual and switch back to black tea as a daily drinker, making coffee more of a special occasion indulgence (I actually really like the stuff and will likely continue to alternate between coffee and tea). But my cravings for caramelly coffee creaminess got the better of me. So, off I went, adding a visit to the coffee store to my list of errands. Reading through the short list of tasting notes on the beans sold in the cafe on Cherry Street the Yergacheffe description, “with black tea and bergamot,” caught my eye. Isn’t this a better description of Earl Grey? I love Earl Grey! Who says you can’t indulge two great loves at the same time?  So I swiped my card and twelve bucks later I have a nice bag of roasty toasties smelling up my pantry.  I have been waking every morning thinking of the bergamoty goodness that sits in my french press waiting for brewing. This coffee is my new favorite thing. In fact, as my current cup is empty, I am ditching this keyboard, quitting my blogging, to go and have a second helping. Yum!

P.S. Does anyone have a good recommendation for fair trade chocolate chips which don’t cost like $65 an ounce? I haven’t had any opportunity to buy chocolate in a little while and I feel the need to indulge another craving.

End of Season

Tonight marks the last game of our Summer soccer season. Not long from now, I’m sure, we’ll be ready to enroll for the fall. Here is a short photo retrospective of our past couple of months.

Movie Night

Drive-in movie = summer fun. There aren’t a lot of these places left anymore. I don’t think I’ve been to a drive-in movie since the number of my years ranked in the single-digits. I’m pretty sure that the last one of these flicks I watched was the Lady and the Tramp at the drive-in theater in Costa Mesa, CA. I have fond memories of piling into the tiny Toyota Corolla hatchback we owned, folding the seats flat and snuggling in blankets and pj’s while we all pilfered handfuls of homemade and heavily buttered popcorn from the everlasting supply in the chasm of our yellow plastic Tupperware bowl.

the other night we met some friends for ice cream and then piled into our little Mazda 5 (I don’t know how to classify this car – not quite a minivan, not really a hatchback coupe either – a micro-van, I’ve heard it called?? It does have seats which fold flat making it the perfect vehicle to take to a drive-in movie).  We threw sleeping bags and pillows in the back and a grocery sac full of goodies like rainier cherries, sugar snap peas and hummus, pirate’s booty – and a little bit of popcorn and skittles, of course. Being that there are few drive-in survivors these days we had a bit of a trek (about 25 minutes) out to Shelton, WA to see Kung Fu Panda.

There was a grassy slope near the movie screen where the kids ran like wild animals before the movie began. This, I believe, is a key element to enjoying a movie-going experience with kids. At a regular theater there is no wild-animal space which means that there is little opportunity to get “the sillies” out before the celluloid starts rolling, which means you have fidgety kids sitting in theater chairs, which means mom gets to do a lot of hushing and please-sit-stilling. Just about the only place to do this is in the car on the way to the theater. However, if a parent lets the kids get those “sillies” out in the car, I believe said “sillies” are automatically transferred to the poor, quiet-starved parent, who is then only able to put a feeble grimace on the face of the movie-going experience, rather than a full-blown smile. So, yeah, I think the grassy, wild-animal space is a great bonus to the drive-in.

The crowd at a drive-in movie is something to behold. I think the people-watching there could be the best pre-show entertainment I’ve seen in a while. This is a lost theater art. I’ve been to a few of those old-timey theaters where they employ an organist or some tap-dancers to entertain movie-goers while they find their seats just like they did in the good ol’ days. I’ve been to the El Capitan theater in Hollywood, where Disney makes a whole big hullabaloo about pre-show entertainment. We saw the first Narnia movie there, so they did a big 100-years-of-winter thing complete with wind and snow inside the theater. The drive-in entertainment is of a wholly other breed but just as much, if not more, fun that the big productions I’ve seen. There were attendees who had seemingly snatched the mattress from ma and pa’s bed and set it in the grass and dirt for the movie so that the kids would have a nice place to sleep if it got to be too far past bed time. There were people who came in their pajamas due to the lateness of the movie’s start time. This made a lot of sense to me. I made my kids wear their comfy-pants so that they could sleep if they needed to. What I couldn’t make much sense of were the folks who came in their swimsuits. Maybe they had just come from a day at the lake? I don’t know. Whatever make you comfortable, I guess. I thought it was a bit chilly for a bikini and a tank top, though. The award-winning pre-show entertainment came from one man who had put enough thought into his evening at the theater that he actually brought a roll of welded-wire animal fencing that he wound around the perimeter of his car (which, funnily enough looked to be the rust-colored reincarnation of that old Toyota Corolla hatchback we used to take to the drive-in when I was a kid) so that his two or three dogs could enjoy the movie with him.

The best part of the Drive-in, though, was the balmy summer air, the being together, the family time, the treat of staying up late, the big dipper, who watched over us while we watched the movie. The simple stuff.

I’m all like this is a little funny

So, there’s this website that makes a word-cloud out of the most frequently used words on your blog. The above cloud is from this blog. The cloud below is from my adoption blog. I was not aware of how frequently I use the words “like” and “little.” They are common filler words in conversation, but I was not aware that they transferred so readily to my writing as well. I’m a little embarrassed (see! there I go again! Its like I use little all the time!). I am going to make a more concerted effort not to use these words when I write.

Back To Cali

My husband’s parents left town today. They should have just hit California soil a few hours ago. They are back to 100 degree Los Angeles Summer. We’re still enjoying our string of 80-something degree days. The weather is gorgeous. We’re all sitting in our shorts and flip-flops sipping cocktails. I’ll bet they’re checking all the candles in the house as I write this just to see if they all melted into little balls of goo while they were away from home and not running the air-conditioned life-blood of their home. I’m sure they’ll be pointing and laughing, though, when it starts raining and our temporary paradise reassumes the regular rainy, gray mess that usually prevails here. We had a nice time while it lasted. We miss you already, Mom and Dad. Here are just a few photos from some of the fun stuff we did during the last couple of days they were here:

Evan and Jude with Abi and Papi.

Tall Ships Festival in Tacoma Washington.

One of the ships returning from a cruise.

Evan and Jude with the Space Needle at the Olympic Sculpture Park in Seattle.

Jude at the Olympic Sculpture Park under Alexander Calder's 'Eagle.'

Matthew and Dad chatting - this is what most of our evenings looked like (only without the picturesque ferry-boat in the background).

Looking out to Puget Sound from the Sculpture Park.

Dear Sirs,

I am a little late in saying this, since the release of both these albums was quite some time ago. However, they are both on my mind today. I had an exceptionally long drive in the car today to and from the airport to get my in-laws back to California which gave me opportunity to listen to both Coldplay’s Viva la Vida album and Death Cab for Cutie’s Narrow Stairs album in one sitting (something, that with the responsibilities of husband, house and children I do not often have the time for). I would like to first address the latter:

Dear Death Cab,

I have been a fan of yours for some time. I’ve purchased multiple tickets to your concerts. I’ve been listening for a long time. Photo Album was great. Transatlanticism, I think, was your best. Plans was also really cool. I really think that you captured “me” in your song “Passenger Seat.” I love your John Byrd EP. I mean, how cool is it to listen to you perform “Why You’d Want to Live Here” in Los Angeles and have “Blacking Out the Friction” on the same album. I appreciate the juxtaposition. Very cool indeed. And even though I respectfully disagree with your theology I thought that “I Will Follow You into the Dark” was a beautifully tender and eloquently written expression of love. But, Death Cab, your newest album, Narrow Stairs is boring. Don’t get me wrong. I still like you guys. There is a whole lot of other past material that I did not mention above that I really, really like. I just didn’t like this new stuff so much. I was really looking forward to it too. I couldn’t wait to see the next great thing that you were going to come up with. Maybe I hyped it up too much. I guess maybe I might need to listen to it a little more and let it, you know, grow on me. But for now, I don’t think I like it much. I actually think I might have dozed off a few times during during “Talking Bird.” Man, that song is dull. And, really, I’m not trying to be unkind, but there isn’t anything else that inspires me on you album either. So sad. So sorry. Better luck next time, guys.

Your still faithful fan,

Sara

And in a much less specific, but much more enthusiastic missive:

Dear Coldplay,

I seriously love your new album! It was totally unexpected. So different from your last album. It is not predictable at all, and yet, it is still coldplay-ish. And you used a dulcimer? Seriously, a dulcimer! Who thinks of that? Way to get in touch with your celticness. That is the awesomest thing I have heard on a pop/rock album in a long time! You guys are the best!

Totally excited,

Sara

Rock, Pitcher, Scissors…

I read a one of those familiar proverbial type sayings in a book today which caught my attention. Firstly because it was not familiar to me, but after a bit more thought because, even though the book I am reading has no real meaning for me at this time of my life, this quotation does:

“You can throw a stone at a pitcher or you can throw a pitcher at a stone. Either way it comes out badly for the pitcher.”

When I thought about it, I had to ask myself; right now, do I want to be a pitcher or a stone. The pitcher, while fragile and suseptible to damage seems to me a much more useful something than a big dumb rock. It can be filled. It can fill other things. It has the potential to nourish, to give, to be useful. Yet it could easily be broken, irreparably, into tiny innumerable pieces. Still, surely it serves a greater purpose than a rock.

But really, a rock, when you think about it is not just an instrument of injury as the above quote suggests. A rock is the very picture of fortitude, strength and determination. It is the solid foundation upon which other things are built. It is firm, reliable, sturdy – and not easily crushed. That pitcher is looking a bit less noble… But isn’t a stone also a symbolism of unfeeling and coldness? Do I really want that for myself?

Which do I want to be right now. Rock or pitcher? Firm and sure yet possibly stoic, or nourishing and nurturing yet easily broken?

I think maybe I feel more like the fragile pitcher, but am trying really hard to be the rock. Can I be both?