What a Fright!

We got a nice jump-start on Halloween by celebrating All Hallow's Eve Eve, a holiday I'm sure will gain increased acceptance once people realize just how great it is to extend the celebration of all things orange and scaaaaary.

Jonathan, Clara and I all wore orange yesterday (Jeremy, sadly, could not participate since he owns no orange clothes). We carved our pumpkin--which we grew ourselves in our backyard and which had sprouted one or two lovely spots of mold, which we cut out as part of Clara's uber-postmodern jack-o-lantern design. Then we had an all-orange dinner followed by a trip to the church for a Halloween party/Trunk-or-Treat. After the Trunk-or-Treat, we were standing in the parking lot talking to friends when Clara said, "I want to go home now." Of course she did. It was almost 8:00!


Clara, as you can see, was dressed as a fairy. She especially loves her wand (as does Jonathan, incidentally--what's not to love about a sparkly star on a stick?) and went around all day yesterday "magicking" people. I was alternatively magicked into gold, a cow, a girl, and man. And then back to gold. She is a very good magicker.



Jonathan was able to wear Clara's bumblebee costume from days gone by, complete with her black onesie with the puffed sleeves and keyhole neck. Don't worry: we bought him some sweatpants instead of tights, and we covered up the more girlish elements of the onesie with the costume. And unlike Clara, I made Jonathan his own antennae, which--much to our surprise--he wore all night long. It's an All Hallow's Eve Eve miracle!




We woke up this morning to bowls of cereal with milk that magically turned orange when stirred. It's going to be a great day...

On a cloudy day

I'm still in my room, since my fever returned yesterday afternoon. (Clearly something was wrong when I turned my space heater on, managed to warm the room up to 74 degrees, and was still huddled under my down comforter.) I feel pretty good again today, though, so I'm cautiously optimistic that I might see Jonathan this evening.

Clara, on the other hand, I have had the pleasure of seeing several times over the last day and a half. Jeremy put a bucket of flour in the hallway, so when Jonathan is sleeping they come and open my bedroom door so Clara and I can talk. She sits on the bucket and says truly fascinating things. A sample conversation:


Clara: "So, do you want to talk about dinosaurs, Mom?"
Me: "I sure do! What should we talk about dinosaurs?"
Clara: "Do dinosaurs stomp around, Mom?"
Me: "I daresay they do, Clara. Why do you think that is?"
Clara: "Maybe because they're quadrapeds."
Me: "They're not all quadrapeds. Are you a quadraped? How many feet do you walk on?"
Clara: "Just these two."
Me: "So you're a biped."
Clara: (Laughs.) "That's silly, Mom."

A brief pause.

Clara: "Do dinosaurs roar, Mom?"
Me: "They do, indeed, Clara..."

She can go on in a similar fashion for a surprising length of time. I sure do love my Clara.

A little autumn trip

A few weeks ago we took a little overnight trip with some friends. We rented a vacation house on the banks of what I think might be the Priest River, although I wouldn't swear to that. The house was right on the water, as you can see, and I loved it. So charming! It had a terrific attic/loft space with sleeping space for six as well as a fun play space. Downstairs was additional sleeping room for three, which is where our friends slept. I really thought it was ideal. The only thing that would've made it better would've been if it hadn't been quite so cold and drizzly. That's autumn, I guess!


Clara had a memorable trip. She ate a worrisome number of red vines, enjoyed a movie while nursing a big mug of hot chocolate, and got to sport this cool fake mustache. But when we asked her what her favorite part was, she said, "I love to jump on the trampoline!" If she's lucky, maybe one day she'll get bounced off the trampoline and suffer from a lifetime of lower back problems, just like her mama. Trampolines are evil, but fun.




Jonathan spent quite a lot of time either in his high chair or in the backpack. When he was freed from those restraints (which wasn't often--good thing the boy loves to eat), he spent most of his time trying to find a way to climb up the death trap of a spiral staircase leading to the loft. I think he went home a bit disappointed to be still in one piece.




And Jeremy and I chased the kids, made a few meals, and just enjoyed the good company of good friends. Jeremy even tried his hand at fishing (with a real fishing pole!). And we all took turns rowing in the row boat. Here's what I learned about rowing: some people are naturally brilliant at rowing (like me) and some people are not (like the rest of the world, from what I can tell). My rowing talent is a real burden, but I bear it well.




Thanks, Sarah and Jason, for a memorable trip!

Luppa Luppa Lo

This week I've felt a bit under the weather with what I assumed was just a cold. Then yesterday morning I woke up feeling absolutely horrible. I took my temperature and was shocked that it was 102 degrees. I cannot recall having that high of a fever in my entire adult life.

I stayed in bed all day yesterday, in a kind of feverish haze (although my brother was disappointed to hear that I did not hallucinate even once), and then at about 4:00 in the morning my fever broke. I woke up this morning with no fever, but I'm extremely weak. The nurse I spoke with at Urgent Care told me to stay away from people for 24 hours after my fever was gone (with no medication), so I'm still in bed, trying to regain my strength and praying that the fever will not return. I haven't seen my kids since yesterday morning!

For as miserable as I've been (if this is the swine flu, get your flu shot!), I can't help but be grateful for a wonderful husband who has taken such good care of Jonathan and Clara. They've baked cookies, gone on walks, gone to the park, done crafts... I've hardly heard any crying--and the kids have been calm as well! Jeremy has delivered all of my medications, kept me well hydrated, and forced me to eat a bit even when I didn't want to. He's definitely top shelf.

Here's my favorite craft project to come out of my illness:


It's a black and green pig (for the swine flu), and the speech bubble coming out of it says "Luppa Luppa Lo (Because Mommy will love it)." I guess Jeremy was trying to prompt Clara to have the pig say "Get well soon" or something, but she said that I would love it if the pig said "Luppa Luppa Lo." I totally do.

And on the back of the pig are two little orange hands--one of which is missing some digits. Sometimes little orange hands need their fingernails clipped.


I miss my family.

Little Turnip on the Prairie

I've been re-reading the Little House on the Prairie books this week for the first time since childhood. I picked up the set for a great deal at a little used bookstore in town, and for a while I was hesitant to read them again, since I feared they might have lost some of the magic they held for me as a child. My fears were in vain, however, and I have felt all manner of heartswelling emotions as I've lived the pioneer saga again with the Ingalls family. I will even admit to openly weeping today as I finished the last book, which is extremely rare for me to do, on account of my stone-cold heart. I've noticed things this time that I didn't notice as a child (Ma's deep-seated hatred of Indians, for example), but overall I have been in a happy little prairie cloud.

Anyway, in one of the books (I can't remember which one, exactly), the family is busily harvesting turnips and talking about how much they (and their horses) enjoy eating turnips, raw and cooked. I realized that I have never in my life tasted a turnip, but I figured that whatever is good enough for the Ingalls is good enough for me. So off we went to buy some turnips.

Now, I don't know if the produce folks at our local Fred Meyer have some kind of sick sense of humor, but for some reason they store the turnips in the same bin with parsnips and rutabagas. I am thinking that none of those vegetables are currently at the height of their popularity, so I feel I am not alone in being uncertain how to distinguish the three. No, that's not entirely true. I could definitely tell which one was a parsnip. But turnips and rutabagas? If you ask me, the turnips should be stored in a bin with, oh, let's say broccoli and apples. That would make choosing a turnip very easy.

Nevertheless, my powers of reasoning (and faith) prevailed, and I managed to come home with two robust and lovely turnips. I put them in the fridge, after which I proceeded to stare at them several times a day for the next three or four days, since I had no idea what to do with them. Finally, I just decided to cook them and mash them and hope for the best, but not before tasting a little bit of raw turnip. A note here: if you like strong radishes, you will like raw turnips. I do not like radishes.

Cooked and mashed with some milk, butter, salt, and pepper, turnips are actually pretty good (how could they not be?). They're very reminiscent of cooked cauliflower. And I mean very reminiscent. I can't say that we'll be eating them weekly, but I'd go for a turnip again. I'm just like Laura! But first, I think I'd like to tackle a rutabaga.

These teeth are made for cleaning

Clara recently took her first trip to the dentist--a task I have been putting off for a good long while on account of my own dental phobias. All I can say is this: if I got to go to the dentist where she gets to go to the dentist, I would go all the time. The office had a slide, games, trains, video games, and toys, and once she got into the exam room she got to watch the end of "Kung-Fu Panda" while getting her teeth cleaned.

All in all, a pleasant visit and a clean bill of dental health. And she got some new "tooth-taste," the kind you have to spit out, which has added a whole new level of adventure to her evening cleaning.