>> chirp.  chirp.<<

>> chirp. <<

>> chirp. <<

>>chirp. <<

go the crickets.

Unfortunately a lapse in my blogging doesn’t mean nothing is happening.  It usually means there is TOO  much happening.  And there is definitely a LOT.

So here I go again.  Packing up my home, sorting through our memories, carefully cushioning the emotions of my children for safe keeping as they say good bye to friends and favorite places and get ready to brave their new futures.  We knew last summer that our stay in this home would be a short one, a temporary move.  But as humans of course we have become comfortable and formed our attachments.  Everything we are moving toward is surprising, good and wonderful and exciting.  And although it feels like we have been on a year-long journey, we are not leaving unimpacted by our stay here.  Just as the times before, we are affected by the excitement, stress and sadness of starting over again.  Even through the excitement and GOOD, I am also picking up the pieces as we go, and will for the next few months.

Last night I had a dream.  In this dream I was excitedly preparing for a karate tournament which I was expected to  perform very well in.    (remember, this is ONLY a dream-lol)   After months of preparation and training it was finally  my turn to go out on the tournament floor.  As I wound my way out onto the floor I found myself confronted NOT by karate opponents but a big group of ninjas swarming  and flipping and ninja-ing around me like a mob of angry dive-bombing tropical mosquitos.  I froze.  I freaked out.  I cried.  I fled.  And then I returned.  I had worked too hard to just leave.  My sensei was there to pull me together…to push me on to the next step, confront my fears.   The scene in front of me was not what I was expecting.  I practiced karate, not Ninjutsu.  I was wearing white, not black.  I had no weapons.   I most certainly did NOT resemble a tropical mosquito.  I was not prepared.  My Sensei took me in her arms and then looked me in the eyes and said “it is only kicks and punches, Dena.  Just kicks and punches.  You KNOW kicks and punches.  The scene is different and you are nervous.  But you have done this before.  It’s just kicks and punches.”

So here I go again.  Ninjas beware.  I don’t know what lies ahead of us, I don’t know how my family or myself will handle the scene in front of us.  There will be good times and there will be difficult times.  There always is.  But we have done this before.  And we are doing it again.  Bring it on Ninjas.

…lives a little butterfly.

We have been collecting caterpillars lately.  And making weekly trips to the Butterfly House at the Science Museum.

And watching Charlie and Lola’s ‘Beetles Bugs and Butterflies’. daily.

And memorizing ‘The Children’s Guide to Insects and Spiders” nightly.

And now I have a little butterfly of my own.

My little butterfly is FOUR days old and I don’t think this ‘butterfly garden dress’ or ‘butterfly garden hair tails’ are going anywhere soon.  I am sure I will be getting grief over this one but let me first tell you about the most endearing bit of my little butterfly.  It is when he stomps around (no flitting or  floating) with his dirty face, scraped up knees, a car in each hand, and SHOUTS in his loud, low raspy voice “MOM!  LOOK!! I AM A BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLY AND I AM GOING TO EAT THE BLACK SCORPIAN”  followed by loud airplane and bombing noises of course.  I love my little butterfly boy. 

When I was a teenager one of my aunts told me that her favorite part of being a grown up was that if you suddenly found yourself at 11:45 pm wanting to bake a rich chocolate cake with mountains of chocolate icing and topped with toasted coconut and fresh strawberries…you COULD.  What I think she neglected to tell me is that if you suddenly find yourself at 12:52 am confronted with a rich chocolate cake with mountains of chocolate icing and topped with toasted coconut and fresh strawberrries…the REAL favorite part of being a grown up is that you can actually eat it.  Midnight snack anyone?

i have a son.

and he is eleven.

and he is

HAPPY.

he is giggly

chatty

and snuggly.

he is motivated

inspired

friendly

and loving.

he bounces.

he laughs.

and for the first time in several years

he is really

and truly

HAPPY.

and that makes me

HAPPY.

I need a beach day.  badly.

ohhhh….YUM!

As our time away from England increases it has been fun to note which aspects, traditions and phrases we have held on to.  Along with the bits, bobs and bins, Pancake Day on Shrove Tuesday is one of those.  Of course, it could easily be a ‘pancake day’ every other day in our household…tonight it was a toss up between crepes, buckwheat pancakes, jonny cakes or the german pancake.  The latter getting the most votes obviously.  With all the choices, it really is too bad that the Brits save serving pancakes for only one day of the year.  I think I declare tomorrow Crepe Day.  OH yum!

Oh boy.  It’s that time of year again.  How can something so simple and small and pretty and PASTEL be so evil?

I think Rebecca really just needed a partner in crime…that’s why she bought me the bag…the gateway bag…

West Coast to East Coast, across the ocean and North, back again and South and now North midWest.  My compass is spinning and going wonky as we get ready to make ourselves a new home in a new direction in Michigan. I am only half joking when I say I am moving home in an effort to collect as many accents as I can.  I just spent a marathon weekend (shivering) in Grand Rapids looking for the right house.  Happy to say I think we are getting close.  But wait, wasn’t it just a month ago that I UNpacked the last box here in NC?  Here we go again.  I have a good feeling about this one…

… it’s SNOW days that are going to do me in.

Did I really just spend four days cooped up with my kids  baking something rich and chocolaty every day with a continuous pot of steaming tea?  Why, yes.  Yes I did.   Are we completely WIRED after all that sugar and caffeine and cabin fever?  Quite.

One of my favorite Brownie recipes, revisited here on Smitten Kitchen.

Best Cocoa Brownies
Adapted from Alice Mendrich’s Bittersweet

Makes 16 larger or 25 smaller brownies (the size you see pictured yielded 25)

10 tablespoons (1 1/4 sticks, 5 ounces or 141 grams) unsalted butter
1 1/4 cups (9 7/8 ounces, 280 grams) sugar
3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons (2 7/8 ounces, 82 grams) unsweetened cocoa powder (natural or Dutch-process)
1/4 teaspoon salt (or a heaping 1/4 teaspoon flaky salt, as I used)
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 large eggs, cold
1/2 cup (66 grams, 2 3/8 ounces) all-purpose flour
2/3 cup walnut or pecan pieces (optional)

Position a rack in the lower third of the oven and preheat the oven to 325°F. Line the bottom and sides of an 8×8-inch square baking pan with parchment paper or foil, leaving an overhang on two opposite sides.

Combine the butter, sugar, cocoa, and salt in a medium heatproof bowl and set the bowl in a wide skillet of barely simmering water. Stir from time to time until the butter is melted and the mixture is smooth and hot enough that you want to remove your finger fairly quickly after dipping it in to test. Remove the bowl from the skillet and set aside briefly until the mixture is only warm, not hot. It looks fairly gritty at this point, but don’t fret — it smooths out once the eggs and flour are added. [Note, many people who have tried this recipe have found that this step works just fine in the microwave. Couldn't test this because we don't have one, but it sounds like it would work.]

Stir in the vanilla with a wooden spoon. Add the eggs one at a time, stirring vigorously after each one. When the batter looks thick, shiny, and well blended, add the flour and stir until you cannot see it any longer, then beat vigorously for 40 strokes with the wooden spoon or a rubber spatula. Stir in the nuts, if using. Spread evenly in the lined pan.

Bake until a toothpick plunged into the center emerges slightly moist with batter, 20 to 25 minutes is Medrich’s suggestion but it took me at least 10 minutes longer to get them set. Let cool completely on a rack. (I go further and throw mine in the fridge or freezer for a while; it’s the only way I can get them to cut with clean lines.)

Lift up the ends of the parchment or foil liner, and transfer the brownies to a cutting board. Cut into 16 or 25 squares.

MMMMMMmmmmmm Comfort food and shopping.  Did I make a new pot of soup every single snow day?  Yes, I did.  Today it is going to be this one from my friend Pam:  White Bean Soup Can’t wait.

The difference between Christmas shopping and Snow Day shopping is that I get to spoil myself this time around!

Love this new camera news…

Fujifilim Medium Format I have several vintage folding medium format cameras on my shelf…but I want one that works now!

Ordered this lovely sequel:  3191:Evenings

Check these out, because multi-tasking is always a good thing, especially if it is pretty and good smellin’ at the same time.  Fiat Luxe Felted Soaps

So after 4 and a half snow days which we spent baking, cooking, eating, shopping and watching movie after movie from inside our living-room tent and forts, North Carolina finally braved the 2 inches of snow and the kids went back to school today.  I predict my bank account will have suffered as well as my mid-section, but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do, right?  I’ll bring out the running shoes and bike next week, really I will.

Take it in, the sparkly eyes, the bright smile, the luscious long silky hair, the exuberant playful joy.  My BABY.

As parents we all have our ‘things’.  At least I hope we do.  Otherwise I am just admitting to being a tad freak-ish.  Which I would admit to anyway.  But, the things.  The ‘things’ our parents did for us that we loved and want to adopt for our own parenting experience and also the ‘things’ we vow to never repeat.  Oh, issues of religion, tv, allowances, discipline, embarrassment in public, eating habits etc all come to mind.  We all have our lists.  We also have our ‘things’ that we make up all on our own just to assert our own ‘parent power.’  So far mine are kind of silly.  For example, my babies don’t wear their first pair of shoes until they are well walking.  No newborns in Nikes and patent leather for me.  I also don’t cut their hair  at all until after their 2nd birthday.  No reason.  I just don’t.  I suppose it is to mark a milestone. The transformation from babyhood to toddlerhood.  Or for the simple selfish love of soft whispy curls.

Well Cameron is 32 months now, well over 2, with a full head of long hair.  Lovely soft whispy curls.  These curls make up the hair that was on his head when he was born. He is meant to be my last baby and each milestone that moves him closer to BIG gets prolonged a bit.  I threatened to duct tape him to the floor so he wouldn’t walk.  I talked baby talk to him  with no intentions of proper talk (and I abhor coochie goo talk.) He nursed past his 2nd birthday and will probably start preschool later than his brother and sister.  Heck, he may even go to high school in diapers and take his blankie to college.   HAHAHA…ummm no.   Well, despite my best efforts he walks and talks anyway.  He will say good bye to the diapers and go to school this year.  The blankie will be exchanged for some other thing by college I am sure.  But the hair?  It can just keep growing and growing can’t it?  Can he go to college wearing the same curls he was born with?  I knew a little boy once who had very very long whispy hair.  When he was 4 he told his mom he wanted it to be so long that when he walked across the street his hair would still be on the other side.  Nothing wrong with that right?  But he got BIG anyway.  And cut his hair.  If I don’t cut Cameron’s hair he will get BIG anyway.  He will cut his hair.  He will be BIG.  I have  no parent power in that.

You know where this is leading don’t you?

I did a baaaaad bad thing.  I let my baby get BIG yesterday.

And I am SAD about it.  I want to take it back.  He doesn’t look like the same baby to me.  His voice is familiar but when I turn to him it is coming from a different little person.  A BIGger little person.  I don’t want him to be BIG.  But he will anyway, no matter how much parent power I exert.  He just grew 3 inches taller in 6 months and before I know it he will be a GIANT like Aidan…who will by then be an adult and halfway around the world doing his own great thing.  India will be taller and better than me and Cameron will be BIG.  I know I will find other ways to discover my parent power, teenage years necessitate it.  But in my quiet time I will remember the little milestones that helped them grow and perhaps I will still have the locks of hair to remind me and I can find some way to secretly pack the blankies into  the college suitcases.

Okay, I’m a bit freakish.  I am okay with that.

xo

d.