DST

It's been a long dark winter.  I always say that skiing helps get me through these dark rainy days.  I just close my eyes think about how much snow they are getting at Mt. Baker as it dumps rain on us here in Bellingham.  But on days like today - sideways wind, dark skies, and sick children - dreaming of powder turns doesn't even get me there.

Daylight Savings Time.  That does get me there.  Knowing that next week it will be light out until 6:30 and that spring is just shy of 2 weeks away.  Yes.  These are the things that I like.

I have always really loved the changing of the seasons.  I love the smell of autumn and look forward to that first snowfall of the year.  But, spring...the anticipation of summer...that's my favorite.  (Important sidenote: In the pacific northwest, summer is elusive and often doesn't start until July so that particular change of season is a bit more frustrating than exciting).  Spring...it's similar to Thursday.  I love Thursday because it is not Friday (so unproductive!) but most of the week is over and you have the weekend to look forward to.  You can breathe and relax and know that the days of rest are heading your way.  Since I have been staying at home instead of heading to the office, I feel a bit differently.  I no longer get excited about my relaxing Thursday - instead, I find those relaxing moments at odd times during my days.  Like when Charlie is sleeping and Rowan is busy with a project.  Or when we are all at the beach exploring together - listening to the slap of the waves on the rocky shore.  Or perhaps when I am alone in the kitchen washing dishes yet I can hear Eric, Rowan and Charlie laughing in the living room.  Yup - those are the moments I live for...the Thursdays of life.  And now I am happily looking forward to moving those clocks ahead - even if it means one less hour in my night.

being second

I've been thinking a lot about being second - as in, being the second child.  I've always thought that being the first born had all the advantages: you get to do everything first, you have those first few years alone without a sibling to soak up all the parental energy, you get to be the boss (to this day, I still boss my sister around), and you don't have to wear hand-me-downs.  The discovery of parenthood and all that it brings with it is mind blowing.  Awe, amazement, excitement, wonder, expectation, marvel, beauty, discovery...fear, worry, and even some guilt.  Being first, you are the center of all of that.

When Charlie was first born, I was surprised that I felt the same awe in his newness as I did when Rowan was born.  It wasn't less....no, not less at all.  In fact, it was maybe even more.  You have the experience, you know the type of parent you want to be, and you are well aware that babies are strong and resilient.  You get relish in their littleness and really soak it in.  This was especially true for me since I knew Charlie was my last baby.  He gets watched, cuddled and carried just as much as his sister did.  I don't sweat the small stuff (it's somehow okay for him to walk around with his pacifier on those days he is sick or just out of sorts and I don't freak out if when I find him eating a candy cane at 18 months old) and I have so much more patience.  I am in constant amazement of him - and am discovering just as much about parenting (and myself) as I did the first time around.  I didn't know there was so much to learn!  And then, he starts out having a sister.  An attentive, loving, caring, nurturing, sweet sister.  Yes, there is something very special about being the second born. 

Over these last few months, I have watched as the relationship between Rowan and Charlie has become magical.  When I say magical, I really mean magical.  They have something special that exists between them and I hope it lasts forever.  They way they play, the way Rowan holds Charlie when he is sad, how excited Charlie is to see Rowan when we pick her up from school, the special & unique way they communicate with each other, the way he looks up to her and the way she protects him...it's different than anything I could give to either of them.  I know the value of a sibling - I have a sister and she part of me, part of who I am and who I have become.  She is even part of me as a parent.  Our relationship is priceless and means more to me than I can explain.  Watching your kids develop that relationship is incredible...it brings me comfort, amazes me, and warms my heart.

The funny thing is that I never felt a need to have a second kid to provide a sibling for Rowan.  I wanted a second child for me, for us...that's always what I imagined when I thought about having a family.  Now that I have two kids and have watched them grow together, I can't imagine not giving Rowan the gift of a brother.  No, I can't imagine that at all.  And that second kid, in many ways, is a first too.  He's a gift to this family and with him, we are complete.

the day they met

dark becomes light

The winter solistice was expecially remarkable this year.  On the shortest, darkest night of the year, the moon was darkened just a little more.  A total lunar eclipse.  I was lucky enough to see it.  Awakened from a deep sleep, I stumbled out in the snowy cold to see an orange moon at the perfect time.  WOW! 

Happy Solstice...let the light shine.

snow troubles

Oh wow.  I'm in trouble.  BIG trouble.  Yesterday was our first family ski day of the year (well, besides the tour around the neighborhood in the much loved and very rare city snowfall).  We packed up the car, drove to Mount Baker (which had just received a foot of new snow on top of a 3 foot base), put on our warm clothes and headed out on the slopes.

I can't say I felt like I belonged there.  My boots felt like lead bricks on my feet and the slide down the snow felt foreign.  I realized after just two short runs that I have some serious work to do this season.  First, I need to lower my expectations.  I used be a good skier...yes, it's true.  I'm not sure what standards this "good skier" I am referring to is compared to...but, I felt confident and had fun so, in my book, that's a good skier.  Yesterday, I felt lucky to make it down in one piece.  I had forgotten (briefly) that I hadn't skied in two seasons - last year I was injured and the year before that I was 7 months pregnant.  So when I started down the hill that first run, I was expecting more than my body was able to give me.  So, I'm starting over...next time I head up to the mountain I'm going to take it easy.  Spend time getting used to the snow again and I'll be patient with myself. 

The second thing I realized is that it is not a good idea to ski with your glasses underneath your goggles in a snowstorm.  It doesn't work.  At all.  Glasses off and goggles on, goggles off and glasses on, glasses and goggles on.  Nope.  Next time, I'll be wearing my contacts.

The other reason I'm in trouble?  It's not going to be long before I can't keep up with Rowan.  She's incredible out there!  Her first runs of the season were impressive - back and forth down the hill, total confidence, ready to go (snowstorm and all!).  I loved watching her...this is going to be an exciting year on the ski hill for her.  She got 10 runs in yesterday - more than any of the rest of us!

Charlie spent the day saying "side...skeee...go...roro" - he was enjoying the snow too. 

All in all, it was a good day.  I can't say that I felt that way yesterday but, after having some time to reflect, I decided that the day was a success.  We had fun, I learned a few things, and we spent a winter day outdoors.

giving thanks together

What better place is there than at home, with family and friends?

wandering outside in the new fallen snow

a cross country ski in the neighborhood

cooking with just enough butter

a little time for crafting

afternoon snowman building

dinner at last

cold legs?

I like to wear skirts.  The damp, bone chilling cold of the pacific northwest makes it hard to pull on tights & a skirt instead of my cords & knee high socks in the morning.  And it's not even winter yet.  I need warmth - the wool long john type of warmth minus the saggy bottom and $100 price tag.  Okay, so I'm a bit picky...I want warmth that is good looking, inexpensive, and comfortable.  Well, lucky me - I found it!

Take two wool or cashmere sweaters from the thrift store, cut the arms of each sweater, sew one arm from each sweater together to make legs. Then take the legs and sew them onto a pair of boy cut undies - bam! - you got some nice, affordable, warm long underwear.  And, they even have a fun look to them - don't ya think?

I made two pair - one merino wool and one cashmere.  I used XL or L sweaters for the top of the leg and S or M sweaters for the bottom.  They are incredible.  Warm, soft, and comfortable.

missing bobby

Yesterday I had to make a really hard decision.  It wasn't a decision I ever really wanted to make.   

Bobby has been with me since the summer before my senior year of college.  That was 1996.  It seems like another lifetime.  He was one of the really cool cats.  Everyone loved Bobby - not just "cat people" but everyone.  He was known to win over a dog lover or two with his ability to play fetch.  Over the years, he has always been there.  He was with me through a breakup, a move to the west coast, 6 homes, a wedding, two kids, two other cats, plenty of drama, lots of excitement...really, my whole adult life.  I remember thinking when he was kitten that he would be alive long enough to see me have children.  At the time, it was unfathomable.  Funny how life just happens and the days pass and then here we are...at an ending.

As for the specifics, he died of renal failure.  I guess it isn't that simple though.  About two months ago, we got his blood tests back and the vet spoke to me about cats & bad kidneys.  For some reason, I still expected him to pull through and live for years.  I bought him the special food and made sure water was always available as the vet suggested.  On top of the poorly functioning kidney, he had an issue with a tumor in his ear which we were symptom treating.  You could tell it was painful.  He spent a lot of time sleeping and resting under the coffee table.  Everyone once in a while, he'd cuddle up on my lap.  He had changed in the past months...I realized that I had an old cat.

Three days ago, I couldn't find him.  I noticed he hadn't touched his food since morning.  Rowan told me he had been under her bed.  He had stopped eating and drinking.  He couldn't walk without falling over.  I knew in my heart it was the end.  Strangely, I wasn't sad...after all, he was old and had a good life.   He was a cat and I always knew there would come a day when he would die.  I went to bed that night honestly thinking he wouldn't make it until the morning but somehow, he did.

I brought him to the vet and they said I could try to give him another round of antibiotics for the ear issue (the drops weren't working) and then we could put him on IV fluids and hope he gets better.  The vets version of what it meant to "get better" was not, at all, better.  What I realized at that point is that he wasn't really going to get better.  Sure, I'd have some more time with him.  But, he would have most likely still been in pain, he wouldn't be able to go outside, he might not have even been able to walk (and certainly no jumping).  He's a cat.  What kind of life is that for an animal?  So, I did it.  I held him with they gave him the sedative...and then while they gave him the injection to stop his heart.  There was one last big breath and then I cried.  And cried.  All day, I cried for him.

I was surprised at my sadness, at my anger (why the hell didn't the vet tell me it would only be months?), my regrets (why did I push him off my lap?  why didn't I love him more?  What happened after the kids were born?  how could I be so selfish and not give him the love he deserved?), and my guilty feelings (okay, good - no more pets, no litter, no cat hair).  It was a hard day.

Today Eric and I buried his body in the back field where our new house will be.  It felt good and gave me some closure.  There will always be a special place in my heart for Bobby.  He lives there now.  He was a good cat...oh yes, a very good cat. 

So, yes, Bobby, rest in peace.  We will miss you here.  And, for the record, I wish I had loved you up a bit more before you left.  It's my one standing regret.  You taught me an important lesson (that I thought I knew - perhaps I just needed a reminder?): love 'em while you got 'em...yes, LOVE them. 

the last photo I took of him

bread

I can finally write about baking bread now that my oven is fixed and my home is once again filled with the amazing smell of fresh baked bread.  I've been doing without bread, cookies, pies,  roasted veggies, and homemade granola for well over three weeks now.  Honestly, I think I missed the act of preparing baked goods more than I have missed eating them.  My kitchen is overflowing with squash, beets, and potatoes from our CSA food subscription so now it's time to start eating my fall favorites.  I digress...

...so yes, back to the bread.  Let me start by saying this is an incredible discovery.  I am so thankful to my neighbor for letting me borrow her bread book ("it's my bible so I need it back in a week at the most").  Two loaves and three days later, I ordered my own copy and patiently awaited it's arrival.

The book: Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day (Jeff  Hertzberg & Zoe Francois).  The title didn't grab me - "yeah right" I thought, that's not possible.  Artisan bread?  In 5 minutes?  You mean, yeasted bread that is both good and easy?  Sure, I have made "easy" bread before but honestly, it wasn't that good nor was it really that easy.  And yes, I have done the whole sourdough thing too - it's great bread (amazing really) but too much work, especially when you have two young kids underfoot.  But, it's true, this bread is delicious and incredibly easy.  Yup folks, we are going to be eating our fair share of fresh, homemade, delicious bread around here.

People have asked for the recipe.  The thing is, you really need the book.  Check it out...and if you are a neighbor, I might just let you borrow it.

our halloween in photos

the pumpkin

the tiger

the autumn sparkle fairy

trick-or-treat

treat for sure (her first pixie stick!)