Thursday, July 30, 2009

v-a-c-a-tion

the view from here

We just returned home from our first summer vacation in many years--northern Minnesota was gorgeous. On the tail end of this trip was an intense 3-day regatta for Calvin on Gull Lake. Loads of fun and laughter, tense moments with the X-boat, big socializing, big wind, big cold--totally good, totally exhausting.

Luckily, we had nearly 5 days on the front end to just BE. Resisting all temptation (complete with coupons) to go to the mini-golf, the go-carts and the waterpark, we enjoyed some real rest and togetherness just hanging around on our little beach and cozying up in our cute rental cottage.* The kids played, we all played, we rowed around the lake and did a lot of reading and sleeping. Our neighbors included a gigantic bald eagle, a delicate baby toad and a little nippy lizard who tried to eat Annika's finger. In the background, the beautiful flute of the Loons.

water lilies are closed up and ready for bed in the early evening

These are just the best times.

a nice, long walk through the woods

*We did venture out to see the new Harry Potter movie, of course.



Tuesday, July 14, 2009

sail away with me


Three years ago, our kids started taking sailing lessons on a local lake. After his first lesson, Calvin came home very excited: "Mama, I have found the sport of my life!" Since that day, Calvin has sailed competitively in two different kinds of boats. Annika, who last year sailed her regattas with an "after you, dear" politeness beat her big brother in a race this summer. Oliver is now taking his first lessons and he is thrilled. My niece and nephew are excited to be taking lessons this summer, too.

This sport takes a lot of time and commitment from parents. When your child is sailing in a race, you pretty much have to be there the whole time for safety reasons, and the regattas go on for the entire day, sometimes 2-3 days. Often at these all-day affairs, I find myself wondering when the work is going to get done at home. There is a lot of "hurry up to wait" as one parent describes it. But there are also great perks. I get to ride on lots of comfy pontoon boats, soaking in the sun, jumping off for a cooling swim when the sun burns hot. There are friendly parents to chat with on these boats, and I do love to chat. And sometimes, like last week, I get the chance to ride on really neat spectator boats, like a slick, 30-foot sailboat with all the perks or a gorgeous, romantic catamaran.

I don't know anything about sailing myself. It's better that way. The kids really own this activity. They know how to rig the sail, how to set up the boat on their own. They gain confidence and independence out there on the water, far away from me. And they have made many good friends. Even on the busiest days, I know they are receiving great gifts through this activity. What could be better than sunshine, water and friends all summer long?

The other day, Oliver and I were in the little boat at sailing lessons. It was our first time out on the water together, and we weren't sure what to do, how to get where we were supposed to be going. Oliver manned the tiller and I was giving unwelcome advice. Ollie was mad because we were behind everyone else and he savagely refused all of my "helpful tips." Even though I claim that I don't have a competitive bone in my body, I did feel a little anxious, wondering how all the other parent/child combos were zooming along and we were so far in the back. A helpful coach offered to tow us, and we gladly accepted. Later, I asked Calvin about this. How do you deal with your thoughts and feelings when you find yourself behind the pack? It happens to everyone at times. Calvin admitted those times were challenging. He said, "You just look up at the sail and find the wind. You just keep going."

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

a sweet for the sweetie

you will enjoy this

Oliver has been sick for a couple days. This morning, suspecting serious dehydration, I took him to the doctor. I am happy to report that he did not require IV fluids, was given some helpful medication and now seems to be on the mend.

While we were at the doctor's office, I read to Ollie from an old issue of National Geographic Kids magazine. He spotted this recipe for strawberry sorbet and the idea of something yummy made him excited to try it out. So on the way home, we stopped at the store to pick up the ingredients and I made it as soon as we got home.

Maybe it wasn't the best thing to give him considering his condition, but sometimes you just have to go with the kid's plan. He did not eat the cookie, but I did.

So from the heart biscuit test kitchen, we bring you the best medicine we've found for all that ails ya: Strawberry Sorbet. Not only gorgeous, it really is a wonderful treat.

Thanks to National Geographic for the basic recipe, and thanks very much to Grammy and Grandpa for the magazine subscription!

Recipe

1 lb. bag of frozen, unsweetened strawberries
1/3 c. sugar (next time, we're trying honey to taste)
1/2 c. buttermilk
1 T lemon juice (we used juice of 1/2 lemon)

1. put berries and sweetener in a blender
2. mix buttermilk and lemonjuice, pour on top of berries
3. blend
4. add a pretty cookie for garnish

Sunday, July 5, 2009

my good egg

Oliver holding his amazing, wacky 4-incher

A few of our chickens have been laying defective eggs. Every day, I am finding one or two soft-shelled eggs (an odd thing if you've never seen one, like a delicate water balloon with a yolk inside). There are also a couple of eggs that have a hard but wrinkled shell, or a misshapen shell.

There are many possible causes for this problem, all difficult to nail down. Illness, parasites, stress, second-rate bird, who knows? Eventually, we will figure it out.

Our egg customers get only the perfectly smooth, gorgeous eggs. The ones that don't look so pretty are used here at home. I try to figure out how to i.d. the fine-feathered culprits who are laying the awful looking ova, but short of sitting out there all day, I don't know how to determine the source of imperfection. Lately, I've been thinking about what to do with the bad chickens who are laying these eggs. Should I give them away to someone looking for a fresh roaster? Do away with them myself? I don't think I can live with any of these solutions, but I do consider the possibilities.

On Friday morning, Oliver and I were making pancakes. Bemoaning the very existence of our unsightly eggs, I gave him this huge, crazy, misshapen one to crack into the batter. As he took it from my hand, his eyes widened in wonder and he became extremely excited. "Mama!" he cried, "Which chicken laid this egg? We have to go out and thank that nice chicken for giving us this best egg! I love this egg! What a good chicken!"

Wow. Wow. Ebulliant Oliver was so profusely thankful in heaping the praise upon this mystery chicken and it's special egg, I realized that once again, there was a deeper message for me. I'll take some of that perfect perspective any day. Thank you, Oliver.