Bob Dylan in the House

Last week, Joe got an orange shirt. When he was wearing it for the first time the other day, he came to me mid-afternoon, showing me a slit in the front of it that he 'accidentally' cut with the scissors. I doubted somewhat the accident, so proceeded to interrogate him. 'Were you trying to cut paper?' 'No...' 'Tell me what happened.'

I don't know where Joe got it from (probably Chris?), but every once in a while, Joe starts to talk like Bob Dylan, drawing out and emphasizing ceratin syllables in a nasally sort of voice.

Anyway, I guess Joe sensed he might be in some trouble, so he started relating the scissors incident to me in Bob Dylan mode, whereupon I started laughing, and he started snickering, and that was the end of that. [Though later I did manage to tell Joe that he was no longer allowed to use scissors... becasue if it was so easy for him to 'accidentally' cut something, that was dangerous as he might cut himself...]

Before I forget...

At 11 1/2 months, these are some of the things I noticed Z doing:
-pulling up on furniture (or people),
-building a tower out of blocks (she never got past 3 as the force at which she slammed the blocks down invariably knocked the tower down),
-trying to put clothes on (opening up a drawer, pulling out a random item, then trying to pull it over her head... if the item manage to stay atop her crown, she would crawl happily around until it fell off),
-taking things in and out of containers (over and over and over...),
-and mimicking odd sounds (like sirens and squeaky doors).

At 12 months, she has started throwing little 'tantrums'. Yes. For example, today she saw something in my hand she wanted. She was sitting on the kitchen floor, and reached toward what it was she wanted, verbalizing with a little whine. I didn't give it to her right away, so she cried louder and plopped her hands onto the floor. When that didn't work immediately, she did a little belly flop and proceeded to cry even louder. Yikes.

She also is determined to dominate my lap. She was playing with some random object, when Joe walked over to me where I was sitting on the floor, and sat down in my lap. Zivah dropped what she was doing and crawled over and tried to nuzzle her way in as she attempted to push Joe off with one hand.

Let the Nail Biting Begin

Look who is starting to climb the stairs:

Tomat-woes

My tomatoes are done for. I believe they are infected with fusarium wilt, a fungus that creeps through the plant, dashing any hopes of tomato bounty.

It hasn't been a total loss. I managed to harvest a few that weren't gnawed or pecked by critters before the plants totally wilted. We've had enough to grace a few hamburgers and make two small batches of spaghetti sauce and a handful of tomato sandwiches on my home made sourdough bread toasted with mayo and cheese. Teasers. Just enough to whet my tomato appetite, then leave my taste buds hanging.

I need to practice crop rotation. Only, I don't have anyplace to rotate. My expanded garden is still not large enough for the gardening I really want to do.

Pics of Z and Her Cupcake

Happy 1st, Z!

I've been thinking a lot about relationship lately.

I've been thinking about 'issues' (homelessness, drop-out rates, etc.) and what the solutions are to these issues. It seems that we can create a myriad of programs, throw money at different things... but any real change comes from the relationships made inside the programs and the relationships built behind the money.

I've been thinking about how some of my best friendships came about without my contriving,
and how some that I thought would be great never deepened.

I've been thinking about how relationships I entered out of loneliness left me feeling used and more lonely.

I've been thinking about how love is the best when given without expectation and received without the feeling of obligation.

I've been thinking again...
(Do I ever stop?)

A Few Produce Pictures

'Amish Paste' tomato. Lots of flesh inside. Very few seeds. I've used them for slicing and made sauce for pasta a few times. Unfortunately, the plants aren't doing well enough for me to do any canning.
'Pennsylvania Dutch Crookneck' squash. Huge. I have about a dozen of these growing, and the vines keep trying to put out more.

One of the two pumpkins growing in the garden. This one is hiding among the tomato plants. I am a little surprised there are only two with the amount of vine we have out there.

Finley's Cake

White angel food with pink and chocolate frosting and stars. Served with sliced strawberries to make it 'strawberry shortcake'.

Finley is...

She wanted me to wake her up today yelling, "Welcome to Kindergarten!" or some such nonsense. I didn't. (She was already awake, and I just wished her a happy birthday. I'm such a buzzkill.)

Saturday, I went shopping, and since we've been out of paint, I was hoping to get big jugs of tempera paint in various colors that would last a while. I didn't quite find the size and variety I was hoping for, so opted for a 16-color tray of watercolors until I could find what I was really looking for. Well, by Sunday afternoon, only a hint of paint edged the little ovals in the tray, and there was a huge stack of paintings on the table.

For her birthday, she requested a strawberry shortcake. I'm not so sure she would be too happy with real strawberry shortcake, so I am going to try something new...

Anyway, happy birthday, Finley! You are something else...

4th of July Photos

This 4th, we spent the day down at Cane Creek in Farmer's Exchange at the invitation of our friend John.

Joe spent almost the entire time throwing rocks into the water.

Reanna did a bit of exploring, and Finley accumulated a large piles of 'pretty' rocks to take home.
After a few hours of trying to coax Zivah into the baby float (she wouldn't have it), we let her play with some rocks until it was obvious she needed a nap.

We also caught some crawdads. We released them later. I can't imagine eating these things. The small fish in the creek managed to evade the net.

It didn't take long for half the party to go to sleep on the way home.

After supper, we started our own fireworks show.

The rain threatened our fun, but we had it anyway.

Although Zivah didn't mind the pops and screeches,this particular item cause Joe to retreat into the house...

where he watched from the bedroom window.

I know... you aren't supposed to do that.

I remembered the trick my dad taught us. [Get a small bucket of water and a can. Pop a hole in the bottom of the can just big enough to tightly hold a firecracker. Put the can in the water, small hole up. Insert firecracker, light, and run.] I wasn't expecting much. When the firecracker explodes, the pressure inside the can shoots it up like a rocket. I wasn't expecting more the five feet or so, but that can shot up about 15 feet! Everyone was impressed.

Later, we got the kids ready for bed and headed down the road to catch a glimpse of the fireworks downtown. There was a storm front coming through, so they moved the start time up. It was supposed to start about 30 minutes early because of the storm, which was nice, since most people didn't know about it, and we didn't have to fight for a spot on the side of the road. They started the show 45 minutes early instead, and about halfway through, it started to rain. Chris was at the van with Zivah, and Reanna and I were huddle in lawn chairs with the Finley and Joe in our laps, holding the kids' (small) umbrellas over us in a sad attempt to stay dry. Finally, wind and downpour forced us back to the van. By this time, the rain was holding the smoke down around the fireworks, and with that and the rain, you could barely see them anyway. It was rather funny.

Sunday, we went to visit Mr. Tidwell, who at 94, finally had to retire his weed eater.

Today is Monday, and there is laundry to fold and mouths to feed....

Overheard

At night before we tuck the kids in bed, we ask them about their day: "What was your favorite part? What made you sad?"

Last night, after putting the questions to Finley and Joe, Chris asked Zivah what her favorite part of the day was.

Joe protested, "But Dad, she doesn't have any teeth!"

Gardening

I am still amazed at the jungle my garden has become. Above is a photo of one of the many Pensylvania Dutch Crookneck squashes I have growing everywhere. Between those, the cucumbers, and the pumkins, the garden is at least half covered in vine. I had to start pruning the vines back as they kept trying to escape into the lawn. I have been trying to get in there in the evenings to weed a bit. The first night, I developed a blister on the outside of my pinkie finger. I may end up with a weeding callous there before it's all over. I know... I should be wearing gloves, but I love the feel of the dirt and plant stems between my fingers.

Last week, I dug up the rest of my potatoes as the stalks were almost completely dead. I harvested about a 3 gallon bucket of spuds from my little 10 foot row. Not too bad. I also dug up a gallon of carrots. (It now occurs to me that I should perhaps invest in some peck and bushel baskets, so I can really sound legitimate.)

I am wondering, now that my lettuce and spinach has gone to seed and the Blue Jade corn is on its way out, if I could plant some sweet corn and still get a harvest before the season is over. The corn I planted out by the mail box barely grew over 6 inches tall. It then started sending up tassels, even though the were no ears developing on the plants. That soil must be awful. It's no wonder I've had a hard time getting certain flowers to grow there. Sunflowers and daisies are doing fine, but everything else seems to perish. This week I weeded it and dumped some compost and leaves on it in a half hearted effort to improve the soil. At least it will keep the weeds down.