goods and heroes

a collection

This is Sam's pencil tip collection. Yes, that's correct, it's a collection of pencil tips.

I will never forget the first time Sam showed it to me. I was at his school to do an observation in his class, we were at his locker while he changed into his "indoor shoes" (very Montessori, I know). This was last year and at the time Sam was missing most of his front teeth. He turns to me from the locker with this huge toothless grin and says, "Do you wanna thee my penthul tip collecthun?" And I said, "What?" and he said, "My penthull tip collecthun." Oh my god, I wanted to crack up so hard but I could tell it was genuine, it was something he was truly, wholly proud of. "Sure, yes, please show me!" I answered quickly. And there it was. Mostly lead tips but a few colored ones that contrasted quite nicely against the deep shiny grey of the lead. And an eraser tip and the green and yellow metal band that connects it to the pencil. And a lovely blue bead, I never asked how that got in there. But he did tell me that it took him a long time to collect all those tips and that it wasn't easy keeping an eye out for them.

A pencil tip collection. It was just so odd and specific. That day, when I first saw it housed & protected in his locker--that most sacred place for important possessions--my initial reaction was to laugh because it was kind of um, out there. But then the feeling that washed over me was  I have an awesome kid who has such a brilliant head & heart that he created his own pencil tip collection. I mean, I had a rainbow collection when I was 9, when rainbows were everywhere, on our jeans and on those awful Love Is . . . posters. How boring and predictable is that? (But wait, my Mom loved my rainbow collection and added quite happily to it. Hmmmm. There's a lesson in here, how meta is that?)

I must say, I didn't think I'd be posting about his pencil tip collection today. But I was looking for something in the office and there it was, up on the shelf and I was just filled with joy and yeah, I started cracking up. (I still hear "You wanna thee my penthull tip collecthun?") I don't think it's that dear to him anymore. And my "marching to the beat of his own drummer" kid is not immune to peer pressure. Sam just recently demanded that his crazy surfer locks be cut off and we eventually figured out it was because a girl in his class (who we think he might have a tiny crush on) told him his hair was "too wild." Isn't funny that "crazy surfer locks" = "good" to his family and "too wild" = "not so good" to this dreamy 8 year-old girl? Hmmmm. I wonder what she'd think about his pencil tip collection.

well, read

It appears that we are all back on the path of wellness. Oh how good it is to feel better! And just in time too, because we had a little snowstorm yesterday and we needed energy so we could throw snowballs at friends and even attend a few fabulous parties.

There was one surprising "bonus" to being ill and taking care of urpy boys. I had time to actually read through a small stack of magazines that had piled up on the kitchen table. Two were completely new to me and one I'm a big fan of, so I thought I'd share all three with you.

I borrowed this first mag from my pal Suzie last week. It's called Seeing the Everyday.

Super gorgeous photos that don't need chatty text to let you know what's going on.

It also has straightforward but inspiring essays on everything from playful apple picking to making pie crust. This is a very pretty magazine. But also earthy and into words and traditions. Funny, this gorgeous shot made me think mostly that I still have never made pie crust. Maybe in 2011 or maybe when I'm in Colorado this Chirstmas I'll face my fear of pie crust head on. Until then I cam live vicariously through shots like the one above.

The second magazine came from Ted. He found this at work and thought I might like it. It's called GOOD and I do. I like it.

Graphically it's completely different than Seeing the Everyday, looking more DIY hipster-y in layout like ReadyMade. The theme for this issue (this is from last Spring) is Neighborhoods and there was a lot to like. I was tickled to see an article on how to throw a block party with your neighbors -- we've got two under our belt here on Glenwood and are looking forward to our third this summer. (More karaoke!) This article on getting neighbors to share their yard was certainly germaine . . . and it made me realize how much fun we had this past summer and fall in our neighbors' yards. So they're sharing with us and we didn't even have to ask formally. (Although I might ask one friend about growing some grub in their back yard. Just herbs, tomatoes and peppers in a container. But they get so much more sun than our sliver of a gangway gets.)

The last magazine I wanted to share is Yes! It's a social justice lefty kind of a rag, but rather than being angry and shrill it takes on topics with a positive approach. (Hence the name.) I've had a subscription for two years and have been really satisfied with the quality of the writing and the topics they cover and the diversity of people they feature. Each issue has a theme (their food issue was excellent) and they often feature artists as well as local actvists making a difference. Look at this couple, don't you want to go hang out with them and make a meal and go explore that bus in the background? And I adore her puffy ankles. I just do.

This issue's theme is family and a lot of the wisdom inside is very simple and kind of what know we ought to know. But it's wisdom nevertheless and it's a gentle reminder of things like sticking close to home and the importance of eating meals together.

All three of these magazines made me pause and be thankful for what we have: a wonderful family, amazing neighbors, a fine home where we share meals together. Oh I know, it's not always butterflies and rainbows around here: lately there seems to be more screaming than laughter coming out of Ben's pipes and sometimes I just don't want to face the task of whipping up dinner and Ted and I are trying to manage the stress that's lurking behind the reality of me not having steady income in 2011. But overall, I know how good we have it here at our casita. And look, even being stuck at home with a sick kid allowed me to have a little quiet time to be both inspired and grateful. Not too shabby.

 

 

 

 

all over the place

The last ten days have been bustling! I can't even recall all that I've been up to but here's a few snapshots into some of the things.

Spent a Friday evening at the Dank Haus particpating in a sausage making class with Chef Martin. My classmates were a great group of raucous sausage-enthusiasts, it was very hands-on if you wanted it to be and sampling at the end was a delight.

I woke up rather early the next morning and hosted a salve-making workshop. I wasn't the teacher, that fell into the very capable hands of Sarah Hasler, but I learned quite a few key things about making salves. Which is great timing because I am just getting started on making my different concoctions to sell at the West Walker Holiday Faire on Saturday the 27th. Sometime this week I finished off a big batch of Eucalyptus Spritzers. The kitchen smelled amazing.

On Thursday I did an observation in Sam's classroom. I have a new respect for the organization and quiet choreography that a Montessori teacher must employ. I also have a new respect for the students who are very purposeful and self-directed. I used to think Montessori was this loosey-goosey, choose your own adventure scene. That is not the case at all.  I also got to see Sam's semi-secret, ever expanding Pencil Tip Collection in his locker.

And then this Friday my 10 year-old niece Claire arrived, flying solo for the very first time. (I am a proud Aunty and give props to Southwest for taking such good care of her.) We have been having a good time checking out what the fine city of Chicago has to offer. Like Redmoon Theatre's Winter Pageant. Loved the BubbleMan.

Made it to Millennium Park and The Modern Wing. Because of views like this. And the Jospeh Cornell Boxes collection.

And this morning we discovered a nail shop where a 10 year-old gal from Colorado can get her nails painted a sparkly blue for $10.

Tonight we're off to Korean BBQ and then afterwards, reeking of garlic and grill smoke, we're going to see Barrel of Monkey's That's Weird, Grandma!  Claire leaves tomorrow morning. And then it's a mere 48 hours until turkey time. I'll deal with that on Thursday. Truthfully,  I don't have much to deal since it's over at my in-laws. (Hello big bowl of stuffing.)  For now I am going to enjoy being with family.  And being together even though sometimes I and we are all over the place.

too much fun

Whoa. Sorry about being absent for, what, almost two weeks -- or is it maybe even more than that? Well, either way, I think I have a really good excuse. Yep. My reason for not posting anything at all in the last few weeks is because . . . well, I have simply been having way too much fun.

Without going totally blow-by-blow (which could take an impressive amount of time) let me just offer up some highlights from the first week of not posting.

It seems like it got jump-started a few Wednesdays back when my pal Sylvia and I went to the Hideout for our first-ever Veggie Bingo experience. You play Bingo (while knocking back a cold one) for super cool prizes like veggies and other locally-crafted treats and all the proceeds go to local food banks. Talk about a win-win! On our first round Sylvia won a six-pack of Krankshaft beer from Metropolitan Brewery. I tell you, staring at six cards with a feisty and fast bingo caller is the closest thing I can get to doing an aerobic workout. I can't wait to go back. (Don't delay, Veggie Bingo ends the end of September.)

Thursday night my friend (and neighbor) Maria and I went rather spontaneously to see The Kids are All Right. Maria's so great that she brought along two little paper bags of homemade popcorn tossed with olive oil and salt and she packed me a water bottle to boot. (I have only been to three non-kid films in the last 5 or so years and so this was a huge, unexpected treat all around.) I adored the film, especially Annette Bening, but I also liked that me and Maria went to Simon's Tavern afterward to have a beer and just catch up. n.b. that's me out with gal friends with malted beverages two nights in a row.  Shocking. (Thanks Ted!)

On Friday some friends from Sam's school invited us to an evening marshmallow roast at a Jens Jensen Fire Ring up in Evanston. This a magical, hidden spot that I had never heard of or been to. It felt like we were at a campsite in Wisconsin, not at a city park just off Sheridan Road.  We had a total blast in spite of the 95+ degree temps, the voracious mosquitoes and the torrential downpour that sent us soaking wet running to the cars in the dark with smears of sticky marshmallow and melted chocolate all over our faces. Summer storms are so cool and Sam reminded me of that as we we sprinting with the lightning flashing in the sky. (A little drama on a summer night is electrifying indeed.)

On Saturday our block held its second annual Block Club Party. There was a bouncy house and the local fire station sent over a fire engine with real firefighters. There were hot dogs and chips and juice boxes and cold beers in the cooler. But the two big hits of the party were Quinn and Spencer's brand new pogo sticks (which they were both cool enough to share with their neighbor pals)

 

and the Karaoke Station that our neighbor Scott provided. Sam shocked us all and was one of the first people to sing (he sang Three Little Birds by Bob Marley) and then later he and Scott and Ted sang Police on My Back by The Clash. Sam totally nailed the days of the week refrain in the song, I am telling you, Joe Strummer would be proud. (In the photo below the drag Queen on their right is also part of the party, that would be Tammy Wynette waiting for her cue to go up next.)

On Sunday me and the boys went to the Ginza Holiday Festival. I adore this event and have blogged about it in years past. This year Sam was fully committed to watching every demonstration -- the Karate, the Kendo, the Taiko drummers. We softened the blow of the direct sun by slurping down Hawaiian Shaved Ice and retreating to a sliver of shade to eat Cold Udon Noodles. Well, only I ate the noodles, the boys ate popcorn. I was in heaven. I slurped them happily and reminded myself that this is why I love summer in Chicago.

Later, Sam bought a hat from one of the outdoor vendors that I associate with something workers picking rice might wear. But he associates it with a character from Avatar: The Last Airbender who has earned some street cred after being rejected by his village. All summer I have been begging Sam to wear a hat and and he has completely refused. Well now the battle is over and I think he looks cute. I mean cool.

 

I hope to fill you in on this past week's wonderful happenings in the next day or so. But I am just loving this summer for being full of surprises and eclectic and well, just too much fun. 

breaking for spring

We're with Grandma Franny and Grandpa Bob down in Long Boat Key, Florida. Happily and very much at our own pace we have been swimming, beaching, napping, eating, reading, fishing and even enjoying old Bugs Bunny cartoons. What I am trying to avoid is spending too much time staring at the computer. So I am just ducking in to say hello and I'll share more when we get back.

 Here's a few shots from this morning's jaunt to the beach. All Ben needed was a 99 cent plastic green shovel from the "Pirate Store" (he didn't even want a bucket) and all I needed was Ben and the beach and some broken shells. We left rather sandy and very content.  

 

games of memory

It's super snowy here in Chicago, I mean impressively and still sort of magically so. The big, fat flakes have been falling since early this morning. We went out and played in it after breakfast but now we are inside staying cozy. And being inside is the perfect time to play a game or two, is it not? I wanted to share with you two games the boys received over the holidays and how we are enjoying them.

Sam has been freaky into the entire "I Spy" series of books and this year he really scored, with his Aunt Jenny sending him a book and Santa giving him a board game, one of his cousins giving him the I Spy Fun House computer game and Grandma Franny gave him this I Spy memory game.

He and I played it the evening after he received it, while Ted was downstairs putting Ben to bed. I have always loved the simplicity of memory games (playing "Concentration" with a deck of cards was a favorite thing for me to do on quiet do-nothing days when I was young) but I forgot how many cards there can actually be. When we had them all out on the table, I must say, I was a little bit daunted. But Sam wasn't, not at all."Come on Mom, let's go!" he implored.

The images on the other side are catchy and colorful and we ended up playing a couple of rounds. And then we played again the next day and another day after that. It is good for the brain and it is nice in that there aren't a lot of bells and whistles. (Unlike the game Clue, which Sam is getting pretty good at while I stumble along with my not so great deductive skills.)

Ben also got a memory game for Christmas. I picked this out for him, mostly because I am a big fan of Charley Harper's illustrations and just really love the images.

Of course,I didn't expect that Ben and I would have neat rows of cards lined up just so and we would calmly turn two over, taking turns. But I thought it would be good for Ben to get used to the concept of matching images.

He was gently checking out the pictures still stacked neatly in the box . . .

when he decided it would be much more fun to dump everything out on the carpet and just go for it.

 

I certainly understand. We can work on matching another time, for now we will just enjoy the gorgeous images.

Do you have a particular memory game you enjoy? The folks over at Binth have this very attractive version. Oh and I almost forgot, my niece Claire showed me a sweet version of a memory game in a little bag when we were visiting Colorado back in December. My sister purchased it for her at a holiday sale at the local Waldorf school.  This is my attempt to re-create it. You basically have a pouch filled with little objects, think of buttons and beads and maybe game pieces, pieces from a doll house, a coin, etc. They just need to be small and there should be almost a dozen of them. You pour the pieces out on flat surface and ask someone to look at all the items. Then you have that someone close their eyes and you take one item away. They open their eyes and then try to remember or guess what is missing.

These would make super great giveaways at a birthday party and not just for little kids. I mean, the older you get, the more you need to work on your memory skills. Why, just yesterday I sent several people Ted's email completely wrong. "How can you not know my email?" he asked me in a tone that was sort of humored and sort of flummoxed. "I don't know" I shrugged, "I um, I just forgot." And last Thursday I sent Ben off to his babysitter's without a single diaper or wipe in his little bag. Whoops. Oh well, guess that means I need to have more time at the table with Sam and those I Spy cards. Or maybe I'll stick with Ben, dumping the whole lot out and just enjoying the great pictures.

apples and then some

We took advantage of the Columbus Day holiday by heading to Indiana to pick apples with friends. Originally we had planned to go to Garwood Farm in LaPorte, as it is just about apples and pumpkins and that's how I prefer it. I don't need a corn maze or a petting zoo or a fish pond or god forbid, one of those inflatable bouncy things. I like apple picking to be about, well, apples. Someone over on lthforum coined the term "agritainment" for when the farm also offers all other sorts of this so-called family entertainment. Anyhow, the plans quickly changed early Monday morning when I called Garwood and the nice farmer-sounding person who answered the phone informed me that they were down to Golden Delicious and Fuji apples and that was it. Well, I like it to be all about the apples if there are actually varieties to pick that me and my kin want to eat. So, taking a tip from a few posters on lthforum (and a positive review from friends just the night before) we decided to head to County Line Orchard in Hobart. The pros on County LIne before even getting in the car were that they had many more apples to choose from (including Gala, a favorite in our house for every day munching) and it is actually 15 miles closer to us than Garwood. The potential con, for me anyway, was that it also has a corn maze, a kids' farm, a barn selling fudge and that sort of action. But we knew the kids would dig the goofy autumnal activities and I knew we'd get to pick some apples so we happily piled into the car and rambled on toward Hobart, Indiana.

We got there in about 50 minutes and there was a huge parking lot, half full, with high school kids directing traffic in that bored, exhausted way that only high school kids working the lot on a school day off can.  We were a little ahead of our pals so we made our way . . . where else, but to the doughnut and gift barn. We maneuvered past the bad "Country Crafts" and the Yankee candles (I know I sound like such a snob, really I just can't get excited about that whole genre of fake country goodness stuff eeeessshh) and the hard candy and the fudge and we found the doughnut counter. We ordered 2 apple cider doughnuts and 1 pumpkin glazed. I wish I had a photo for you but two things were working against me. 1. My camera was deep in the pocket of the Kelty Pack I was sherpa-ing Ben around in and I couldn't get my arms backwards stretchy-like to pluck it out but 2. and really now, let's be honest, we just snarfed them too quickly for them to be documented. You all know how I feel about doughnuts. I was happy. So was Sam. So was Ben. Hell, we were happy enough with those doughnuts we could have skipped back to the car and called it a day. Lips covered with greasy cinnamon sugar bits, dumb smiles on our faces.

But we didn't. We exited the barn and were drawn to a little shed under an old oak with this painted on the front.

It was a little house with baby chicks inside! You have to be certified dead to not get excited about baby chicks. The pale yellow fluff, the sheer pluck, the innocent skittering about (!)  . . . Ben was completely beside himself and quickly demanded to be liberated from the backpack.

We stayed in Chickville for 20+ minutes and might possibly still be there gazing and giggling had our friends not arrived. It was magic to see Ben so tickled and full of yep, I can say it, wonder.

We climbed on the tractor and headed to the apple fields. It was actually quite toasty picking apples. I can say that's my first time picking and sweating at the same time. In years' past it has been more about chilly fingers, hat covered heads and runny noses. Not this time, with 25 pounds of Ben on my back and the sun bearing down, I was glowing. Or perspiring, whatever you want to call it. But the apples were divine, we munched on them as we picked, even Ben had two going at one point.

Sam pretty much picked a peck (and I didn't just do that sentence on purpose but it does have a good sing song to it) on his own. And then he and Maya and Mollie and Sarah and Sunny darted off to the Corn Maze. I begged off, mostly worried about the size of it (it looked epic--they even had a guy up on a crane to keep an eye on all the folks below) but also I had no hat or sunscreen for Ben, or for myself for that matter. Besides, I still wanted to pick a few more apples. So Ben and I went off and we discovered the Galas and the Jonagolds and picked another peck and munched and hung out in the shady parts to cool off.

After the corn maze and the apples we had a simple lunch in this lovely little picnic spot under a huge multi-colored canopy of oak and maple trees. Ben and I had a great time trying to catch the leaves as the twirled and swirled to the ground. Not bad, I kept telling myself, this Fall Family "agritainment" stuff. Not too bad. We even did the hokey put your head in the hole "pumpkin head" thing. Say "cheese!" I mean, "Pumpkin!"

And then we all rode the Moo-Choo Express. And that really is what it is called. It was fun. I dug that the tractor was driven by a very spritely Grandma-type.

It took us through a stand of more lovely trees, all golden and glowing. I was smiling in spite of myself.

And we ended our day by checking out the animals in the kids farm area. Guess who was all smitten with the goats, especially the babies?

And she also got all misty over the pigs and the donkeys too. Anyhow. We ducked back into the big red barn, grabbed a six pack of doughnuts, a jug of cider and some jam.  We went back to the car, back to Chicago with apples and doughnuts in our bellies and big, weary smiles on our faces.

And don't tell any of my apple picking purist friends, but I'd go back again next year. I might even check out the corn maze.

a ginza outing

We realized just yesterday that the annual Ginza Festival was on at the Midwest Buddhist Temple in Old Town. This is a small but mighty celebration of Japanese culture and includes all sorts of entertaining and inspiring things happening on the main stage, namely, Aikido and Judo demos as well as Taiko drumming (that's drumming on those big, dramatic drums) and folk dancing. We enjoyed all of that (especially the drumming) but you know why I wanted to go? I bet you can guess. Yes, I wanted to go check out the food.

Ted made his way to the Chicken Terriyaki where he scored a half a chicken nicely glazed and grilled over charcoal served with rice and coleslaw (hey, this is Chicago we gotta sneak some mayonnaise in somehow). Ben helped direct people to the chicken tent.

I went and got some udon, I thought it was going to be hot but was happily surprised to find it in a cold broth, perfect for a summer day.

Sam being Sam, chose to gnosh on popcorn in lieu of anything substantial. I must say, I found the paper bag rather eye-catching. It's funny, I was munching on edamame, which I think it sort of the Japanese version of popcorn, in terms of a cheap but satisfying salty snack.

And Ben being Ben, chose to sample a little bit of everything and enjoy it all, except for the edamame which he spit out without much ceremony.

It was very much a last minute outing, but as we made our way home on the pokey #22 bus, our bellies full with such good food and having enjoyed a nice variety of Japanese culture (and getting some good climbing time in at a local playground) we agreed we need to check out some more neighborhood and ethnic festivals before summer is out. I believe the Korean Festival is in a couple of weeks . . . bulgogi perhaps?

Cheers!

Ben . . . summer

this is Ben the other night when we were out for crazy good (and lovingly prepared) pizza at Great Lake just two blocks from our place. He's enjoying the Dutch designed pink plastic cup they provided for sipping water. But do note the teeny box of raisins in the foreground, those suckers have been my not so secret weapon of late--Ben is like a happy raisin addict when I bust out one of these tiny little boxes.

This is Ben the very next morning. I offered him a plum, icy cold, just from the fridge (which is not how I normally store any of my fruit but it was just so ripe and I was worried it would start to go bad). He is still (still!) such a teething madman that I think the coldness of the flesh combined with the total juiciness of it all, added up to a very satisfying experience. Do you see the pit (or stone, as they call it Oz and other parts of the world)? Do you see it on the tray of his high chair? That's all he left behind. That and the pulpy good stuff on his cheeks. A simple question I asked myself that very morning: when's the last time you enjoyed a piece of fruit quite like that? Well, you still have a good 45 days to do so and you won't be confined to a high chair.

And finally, this is Ben's knee. The other one looks much the same. I think I might have coined a new term, I choose to call this, "summer knee." And I do so hoping that I can convince myself that it's just a stage, you know, my kid (my baby who is no longer a baby!) will not spend the next 365 days scraping his skin off as he tumbles on the rough concrete of the pool or down the stairs in front of our apartment . . . and he won't do too many more face plants into the nasty wood chips of the neglected playlot we hang out in before we go to the pool. Yes, I know very well that scraped knees are very much a part of growing up and of being a kid in summer. I remember that being a part of who I was---when I was 8 years old. But Ben, he's so little and he plays so hard and tumbles just as hard. Sometimes I just wish I could put an invisible shield around him to protect him. Oh well, Ben just picks himself up and toddles on to the next situation. And I take a deep breath and try not to be the Mom who freaks out at every fall. I really do. I am trying very hard to not be that Mom. I have even started biting my own lips when he falls so I don't  scream, "Oh!" It's tough, doing the tightrope walk between giving them space to fall and pick themselves up and giving them the love and compassion and kisses they need.

And as far as I can surmise with Ben, he's doing just fine. In fact summer suits him quite well, scrapes and all. Pass that boy another juicy plum! Maybe I'll have one as well.

peek a boo

I haven't been hiding from you all, honest . . . but a certain someone has discovered the joys of hiding-- even if for a few giggle-filled seconds.

I forgot how magical a filmy, gauze curtain can be.

throw in a little sunshine and a few sheer circles . . .

and I am happily reminded (by Ben) that everything is so, so good.