Domestic Piracy

Because it was there....

2011-07-28T18:18:00.002-04:00

Every once in awhile I get a crazy notion about doing something from beginning to end. You know, like in the olden days when men were men and women were really tired all the time because there was no "Diego" to turn on during dinner prep, and laundry took all day and was a full body work out with the great possibility of third degree burns. I got one of these notions a couple of weeks ago when I realized that some of the straw that we'd used to mulch our garlic crop last fall, had sprouted and that along with all the tasty tasty garlic there was a fair quantity of wheat popping up. "Hmm..." I thought to myself. "Hmmm....I wonder how much wheat you need to make a loaf of bread?"More than I managed to gather, that's for sure. I understood the basic mechanics of threshing, you lightly crush the seed head to release the "chaff" and then you shake it to bring all the loose stuff up to the top and the seeds fall to the bottom. I vaguely remembered something called a "winnowing" basket from anthropology class, which was basically a big flat loosely woven basket that you would shake around so that all the wheat could fall out. Since I wasn't processing a lot of wheat I figured I could make do with whatever I had in my kitchen...in retrospect, it's probably easier to process A LOT of wheat, and the small amount that I was dealing with would be considered the waste.
Pretty huh? Just like on the beer bottle labels?
And yeah, it worked pretty much like that...I used the "rubbing it between your hands" method for releasing the wheat berries , and the "blowing on it lightly over a kitchen sink" method for "separating the wheat from the chaff" (an adage which I now feel uniquely qualified to over use). If you have about three hours of time to devote to the production of a small quantity of wheat berries, and you are resigned to the fact that your final product will have a fair amount of straw left in it, then yeah, I'd say it worked pretty well. Towards the end I got a bit more efficient with my technology, using a flat plate, a round bottomed bowl and kitchen strainer with widish holes, for successive winnowing.
And here's what I have. An eight ounce jelly jar full of wheat. Wheat like I can go and buy by the scoopful out of the bulk bins at the co-op...whoo hoo! My best option for grinding it is probably our little coffee grinder, so I guess it's a good thing that I don't have much. What to do with this precious stuff?

This is how my great notions usually end. "Well...as romantic as it is to think of times gone by, I'm sure happy I live in the 21st century, and not the 18th. Isn't it lovely that spinning wool can be a hobby, and that if I don't feel like knitting I don't have to worry about my family having cold feet in the winter?" Sometimes you just have to do something to find out why it's better to let other people do it for you...people with big machines.

Ragnar...21st century girl.

An ode to my adopted state...

2011-06-04T15:53:00.002-04:00

(chives, growing on my back porch, I got my first harvest off of these puppies back in March!)

I overheard a conversation at the farmer's market this morning that badly made me want to intervene, although I ultimately decided that walking away was better than butting in with an "Actually, I know more than you" attitude. However, I've been thinking about it off and on for the last couple of hours and I've decided that this is an appropriate forum for rebuttal.

The farmer's market in question was one of the few local markets that allows wholesalers to sell their wares, meaning that you can buy a peach there in May. I don't disapprove really, I'm happy to see small companies with an outlet that allows them to compete with the huge chains, and I'm pleased to see people supporting them. If you can't buy local, then at least buy from a local, right?

The conversation I overheard was between two market shoppers and went something like this:

"You didn't get that peach here did you?"

"Oh yes, but I'm sure it was grown in California or someplace."

"Oh! Because I was going to say! That's amazing."

"No, no, of course not. We live in Michigan. Nothing grows here! You hear about these 'localavores' but they're living in central California and places like that!" (I have to confess, the "know-it-all" tone is probably what was getting to me) "I mean, you can eat local in Michigan if you want to, but you'd be eating lettuce and radishes!"

"Ha, ha, yes I guess so."

"I came out to the market last week looking for strawberries, and there wasn't a single one to be found! I think they must be very late this summer, I'm sure there were strawberries here last year."

We were at a very crowded market, the third or fourth week that they had been open, on the tail end of a cold and lingering spring...and it's true, there weren't too many local veggies to be seen. (I also overheard another woman complaining that there was no "fruit" available) The local eats were there though, tucked behind flats of garden starts, and bouquets of hot house flowers. There were hot house tomatoes and peppers. There were hoop house strawberries. There was asparagus, rhubarb, cucumbers, zucchinis, seed potatoes (that were for planting, but looked way more edible than the ones I bought at the "real" store last week), lettuce, spinach, green onions, and more herbs than you can shake a stick at. There was also every type of meat you could wish for including fish and shrimp (yes! local shrimp, in Michigan!) and lots of prepared pastries, and breads etc.
(My back porch lettuce, and a Michigan grown pineapple...which has barely stayed alive for the last two years, but god-damn it, it's a pineapple and I'm proud of it)

Rather than butting into a private conversation I thought I would just mention it here:

ACTUALLY! Michigan has the third largest crop diversity in the country. Just about the only thing you can't grow in Michigan is Bananas, although I'm sure someone is working on it.

Which is not to say that I don't eat my share of out of season produce. I have Washington apples and California grapes in my kitchen right now. I buy bananas like they are going out of style, because my picky kids will eat them. I have some overly firm, underly tasty supermarket strawberries sitting on my counter right now, because The Destroyer practically jumped out of the shopping cart begging for them, but you can bet that in a couple of weeks when they are actually in season, that I will be buying them by the flat load, eating them by the handful and turning them into jam and ice cream.

It just broke my heart to hear my adoptive state maligned as a place where "nothing" grew. I couldn't let it go...so, lady, wherever you are, I hope that when Michigan peaches are in season later this year that you can get your hands on a couple. You'll probably fall for the California peach scam again next year, when you haven't seen a peach in months and they're sitting there looking all perky and miraculously unbruised in the grocery store, but at least you'll know what you're missing.

(some pretty flower I bought to liven up the container garden...pretty huh? Some Michigan farmer grew it for me)

Ragnar...mama first, then pirate, and then adoptive Michigander.

PS: Stay tuned for more "scratch that" from scratch vs. store bought posts in the near future. Next up: Mayonnaise.

Scratch That...Hummus.

2011-04-19T17:12:00.002-04:00

There are a few things that I've been making from scratch for as long as I can remember...okay, two things: bread, and hummus. It's no coincidence that they go REALLY well together.

If your family is like our family than the tiny little $5 a pop hummus tubs that they sell in the grocery store are a joke to you. We could finish off one of those in about 10 minutes and look around for the next one. Plus, Five Bucks? For Hummus? Are you kidding me? It's bean paste for Goddess' sake. Then you can go on to the other reasons to make your own: the store stuff is slimey, and they fill it full of weird crap (sundried tomatoes? seriously?).

To make hummus you need:

A good blender or food processor. I specify good blender because this is a pretty thick paste and it stresses the motor on the lesser models. I have personally burned out the motor on two $30 blenders making hummus.

Chick peas, also known as Garbanzo Beans (which always makes me think of Gonzo from the Muppet Show). We favor "La Preferida" brand, which is frequently shelved in the "Mexican" section. It comes in big fat 29oz cans which makes a decent sized batch.

Tahini. This could possibly fall into the realm of "special ingredient requiring a separate trip to the grocery store" if you have a slightly less exotic pantry than I do. It's also the most expensive ingredient in the recipe, at about $6 a jar. If you happen to live in a neighborhood with a Middle Eastern grocery store, buy it there because it'll be cheaper, and come in a bigger jar. It doesn't spoil quickly as long as it's refrigerated, so even if you don't use it that often, you won't lose out on your investment. Tahini is a seed butter, so when you buy it it will have about half an inch of separated oil on top, like natural style peanut butter. When I first open a jar I pour the entire contents into the food processor or blender to remix it, and then pour it back in to the jar. If you refrigerate it after that the oil will emulsify in the fridge and it shouldn't separate back out (if it isn't so throughly mix it will tend to separate). You don't even have to clean the blender, you just make a batch of hummus right on top of the tahini dregs.

Garlic.

Lemon Juice.

Olive Oil.

I sometimes add a dash of toasted sesame oil to punch up the sesame flavor. If you stir fry you probably have this.

Notice I don't have measurements on any of this stuff. That's because I am too lazy to measure. This is very much "to taste" and you can easily adjust things as you go.

So...go get all that stuff. Then:

Drain the chick peas, and throughly rinse them under cool running water. I rinse all canned beans, and (although I haven't done a side by side comparison) I firmly believe that it cuts down on "wind" the next day. Let that sit in the sink and drain for a minute while you peel the garlic, one clove, two if you're brave, three if you don't have any friends and don't want any.

Add the garlic, about a tablespoon of olive oil, two or three tablespoons of tahini and two or three tablespoons of lemon juice to your blender and give it a good chopping. When there are no more big chunks of garlic add about half your chick peas. Adding them all at once clogs the blender. If the paste is too thick to blend, add water until it's thin enough to blend smoothly. This is a good time to do an initial taste test. I almost always add more tahini and more lemon juice at this point (and if you want a roasty toasty tasting hummus, a dash of toasted sesame oil is delicious...I think, although their are puritans in my household who do not agree). Then throw in the rest of the chick peas and (if you need to) more water to thin it out. If you are making hummus in a blender it will be a little thinner, in a food processor chunkier and thicker...personal preference as to which you like better. When you like the consistancy, then you can salt to taste and (if you must) add any junk you want, like chives or bacon bits or whatever the hell they put in those store tubs of hummus.

I don't add very much olive oil. I think a bit is great to improve the texture, but why add more oil than you have to? If you like really creamy hummus then you can, of course, add more oil.

I estimate this recipe to cost about $2.80 or so. $1.50 of that is the chick peas (so if you are a "boil your own from dry" kind of person the cost would be much less), and I'm (over) estimating a $1 worth of tahini, with about $.30 worth of pantry staples. If you use the big can of chick peas you'll end up with a tub of Hummus that is about two or three times bigger than the slimey stuff in the deli case, and the whole process takes about 15 minutes. This used to be my potluck staple, along with a store bought bag of pita chips, but I was at a pot luck last year where half the people brought hummus and the other half brought brownies...a good potluck in my opinion!

Ragnar...mmmmm...Garbanzo-licious.

PS If any of you have hummus making tips or favorite add ins (blech!) please comment! Just don't suggest that I peel the garbanzo beans because that's just flat out not happening.

Scratch that...

2011-04-17T16:20:00.002-04:00

When The Destroyer was born, I didn't step foot in my kitchen for about 4 months. He was an..ahem...intense newborn. He was a constant nurser who barely slept, and Manimal was working long days trying to get our house renovated so that we could move back in (see "the other blog" if you missed the story of our renovation). He hated his car seat and would scream from the second the door opened and he saw the offending object, until we arrived at our destination and he was reconnected with his boob. Grocery shopping was not high on my list of fun things to do, and the few times I did manage to get fresh food in the house it would inevitably spoil before anyone got around to cooking it. Breakfast and lunch were whatever snack foods I could prepare for myself with a baby in arms, and dinner was "out," where we would eat quickly in shifts so that we could take turns bouncing the baby. Usually I would prop him in place with a boppy pillow, and spread my napkin over his head so that I could eat over him (one handed of course) without staining his onsies with bar-b-que sauce.

We didn't take a lot of time to think of the ridiculousness of this situation, we didn't have a lot of spare moments for intuitive self-reflection. There came a day, though, when The Destroyer learned how to crawl and discovered that there was more to life than boobs and not sleeping, there was...destruction. Manimal was home before 8 o'clock for once, The Destroyer was happily destroying and we (miraculously) had something cookable in the refridgerator. I don't remember what culinary miracle I pulled together, probably some version of "eggs scrambled with whatever we had on hand," which is sort of the signature dish of our house. I do remember that we sat around rapturously eating it, and commenting about what a treat it was to eat in for once. When eating at home has become a big treat, something is seriously out of balance, so we started working on eating at home more often.

When we eat out, we don't hit the drive thru at MacDonald's. We eat a lot of Thai, Korean, Middle-eastern...generally what's considered to be the "healthier" of the available restaurant options. When I cook at home, I don't spend a lot of time worrying about fat content, or carbs, or really nutritional content in general. We eat a lot of vegetables because we like vegetables, and we eat them with full fat cheese, and in sauces that are laden with salt and oil. None the less, when we made the switch (back) to eating at home instead of eating out, we all lost weight without even thinking about it. Our "food" bill was suddenly about half of what it had been, and this was all without an conscious effort on our part, other than a desire to eat our own food in our own home.

When Ragnarbaby came a long some of our "take out" standards slipped back in, of course, as well as a few pantry "staples" that I'm not especially proud of (boxed macarroni and cheese...). I don't beat myself up about it, and I don't really fight with my kids about what they eat. I chop the vegetables up small enough that it's hard for them to spit them out, and I put enough butter on top that they eat it. We get pizza about once a week and sometimes dinner is canned soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. I'd never bought canned soup in my life before having a second child, but something's got to give. When I went back to work things gave a little bit more, and now our "diet" is a mix of simple homemade food, mixed with some things that come in boxes, cans, and bottles. I don't like to go grocery shopping more than twice a month if I can help it, and if it dirties more than two pans, I don't cook it. I do still make some of our staples (chicken stock, mayonnaise etc.) from scratch though, but they have to pass my "test," which is something like this:

Do I habitually keep all the basic ingredients in the house, or would I have to go and buy something new?

Does making this involve complicated steps, or a lot of time?

Can I make it "in bulk" to save time later on?

How long will it last in the refrigerator or freezer?

Is there a significant cost savings over buying this at the store?

If whatever it is fails that little test then it goes on the shopping list and I pay going rate for whatever it is.

The cost of everything in the grocery store is going up, thanks to gas prices and other economic factors, so there has been a fair amount of discussion in the "blogosphere" about making from scratch. Of course I can't sit idly by while other people offer advice, so I'm going to do a series of posts about things that I've found it to be worth making from scratch...you're on the edges of your seats I'm sure.

Ragnar...full of good intentions.

Mommy Brain...

2011-04-15T20:15:00.004-04:00

Some think tankey folks came out with a study a couple of years ago showing that "mommy brain" is a myth, and that women with children are just as smart as they were before they had them. I didn't read it of course, but I remember clicking "like" on facebook when someone else (a mom friend, who also presumably didn't read it, because who has that kind of attention span really) posted it. I do "like" the idea that I'm just as smart as I was before I started this wild roller coaster ride that is motherhood (or as I like to think about it, preventing my children from killing themselves), but all personal evidence points to the contrary.

Today I arrived home to find two concerned pollsters standing in my front yard, cell phone in hand, waiting for the police to show up at my house because I had left my front door standing wide open when I packed up my children for a trip to the grocery store. "Do you live here?" one of them asked me as I pulled into the driveway. "Uh...yes." I answered, opening the doors of the minivan and releasing the hounds. "Well, uh, we called the police because your door was wide open, and we were afraid you might have been robbed." "Oh!" I waved away her concern nonchalantly, "I'm sure that was me, my children are very distracting." She raised her eyebrows at me, and motioned for her partner to call the boys in blue and tell them that there was no emergency, just a brain-fart by a mother of two. Then she asked if I might want to hear about the millage (for the police no less, those pillars of society that might even manage someday to save me from myself). While she politely gave her talking points about how even with the new millage my property taxes would probably go down, my eldest grabbed on to the knees of her jeans and rocked back and forth growling "I am a baby jaguar! I am a baby jaguar." If nothing else I think he demonstrated that it IS possible for a woman to be so distracted by her children that she might walk out of her house with the door wide open.

Lest you think this was some sort of aberration, let me assure you that this was simply the latest in a long line of mommy moments.

There was the time that I came out of the grocery store to find that I had left the side door of the mini-van standing open.

There was the time that I came out of the coffee shop to realize that I had not only left my keys in the ignition of my van, but had in fact left it running.

There was the time that I left my purse in the back pocket of the stroller parked in our front yard...overnight.

Not to mention the fact that I can't wrap my reading mind around any plot more complicated than "have you met my hunky boyfriend, he's a werewolf!"

I can only imagine the hijinks that will ensue when baby number 3 is born in September.

So, whoever you are, think-tank guys (or more likely defensive mothers), I appreciate the credit, but I beg to differ. I'm not saying that I won't recover those lost IQ points when my kids are...oh say...married, but for the moment, I am blaming my lack of smarts on mommy brain.

Ragnar...proud owner of one mommy brain

PS Manimal insists that I add that while I was proofreading this post I was holding Ragnarbaby in my arms while he simultaneously riffled my wallet and chewed on a ballpoint pen.

Odd years are good years....edited version.

2011-01-19T11:14:00.005-05:00

I don't know why, but in my own personal numerology I've always had

a thing for odd numbers, and double

numbers, so 2011, ending in a

double odd...I'm expecting good things. Literally expecting as it turns

out.

In my eternally optimistic little mind as I read through the glossy

brochure advertising the benefits of theIUD I had selected as my "let's

not be surprised again, shall we?" birth control method, I simply looked

at the large number under the "effectiveness" rating and thought to

myself:"Wow! What a big number." As it turns out, any number less

than 100 is not that big. As with any pregnancy, it boils down to a simple

either or equation. Either it works or it doesn't. Either you're pregnant or

you're not.

I am, as it turns out. And really how could I not be? It is an odd year after

all. 2007 began the Epoch of the Destroyer. 2009 brought us the

beginning of Ragnarbaby's Reign, a title which he is going to have to give

up to his younger sibling at some point, and now in 2011, of course, why

not? Let's have another one!

Which means some slight alterations to my 2011 plans.

1. Plan, and do activities with my children, all of them.

2. Write more, watch less. Unless I'm breastfeeding a newborn. Nothing

gets you through those first awkward weeks of breastfeeding like a lot of

mindless television.

3. Buy music, lullabyes mostly.

4. Do a pull-up.

5. Subscribe to a magazine. My "Mothering" subscription finally ran out....

maybe I'll re-up.

6. Schedule "studio time." HA!

7. Publish three knitting patterns. A baby hat, some longies and a

diaperwrap maybe?

8. Eat something I've never eaten before.

9. Make curtains for the living room, so that the neighbor's can't see us

walking around in our pajama's day after day.

10. Reupholster the goddamn dining room chairs. On second thought, why

bother, they'll be covered in spit up.

11. Yell less. Yes, a very good idea.

12. Journal.

13. Get more involved with "the farm." Things that don't involve much

bending.

14. Plant something in the planter boxes on the back porch.

15. Cook with Isis. Or maybe just ask Isis to cook.

16. Go camping...or not. Maybe send the boys out camping with Manimal.

17. Make time to spin. Or not.

18. Make something out of wood. Or not.

19. Read a book that someone else recommended...as long as it doesn't

require more than 2 braincells because that's all I can find while under the

influence of "mommy brain."

20. Write letters to my mother...hysterical letters.

21. Brush and floss.

22. Make a household budget...make sure it includes money for a maid

service.

23. Put some money out of each paycheck into a savings account...so that

we have money for diapers.

24. Shop local.

25. Keep up with the push-ups.

26. Drink less...because you're pregnant!

27. Take the kids for nature walks...or waddles.

28. Figure out a way to get both of the little ones on the bike...nope. Don't

bother with the bike for another couple of years.

29. Visit someone out of state (not my parents)...sooner rather than later.

30. List something for sale on Etsy.

31. Keep in touch with my brother.

32. Hang closet rods.

33. Give presents.

34. Be deliberate about sugar.

35. Get a tattoo.

36. Clear off the top of my dresser.

37. Settle Ragnarbaby into a "big boy" bed, also known as "making room

for the new small human."

38. Get camera fixed...since grandma and grandpa will murder me if they

don't get regular photo updates of their new grandchild.

39. Get better at taking pictures.

40. Sing...lullabyes.

41. Balance the bank account.

42. Go to a concert.

43. Weave.

44. Get in shape a round shape. Become a Warrior Fertility Goddess.

45. Use the phone to keep in touch with far away people.

46. Laundry. Don't let it eat the house.

47. Practice swimming.

48. Preserve food.

49. Chore schedule...make one. Make sure it involves everyone else doing

all the chores.

50. Go to an improving lecture.

51. Explore the idea of writing for a local news outlet...perhaps a "Women

with stupid numbers of children" advice column.

52. Try to appreciate the "boyness" of my boys...and hope like hell that

this one is a girl.

53. Write the birth stories, both of them. Or rather, all three of them.

54. Try to be less bossy...no, try to sound less bossy while still organizing

everyone else to do the things that I am unable to do.

55. Practice jumping rope...nope. Don't.

56. Clutter....just don't do it.

57. Be serious about "stuff," what I need, what I want and what I can do

without, and remember that babies really prefer to play with plastic bags

and electrical cords and there is no reason to fill the house with plastic crap.

58. Experiment with savory pies.

59. "Run" (or walk really fast) a 5K. Or waddle one.

60. Continue with book binding experiments.

61. Clear out the backyard enough that I'm not worried about the kids

playing out there.

62. Mural a wall in the house...maybe not.

63. Eat more fish...but not too much.

64. Make some kind of shoe...a baby shoe?

65. Read a non-fiction book that is not about gardening or food, or about

other people's ideas of how to raise children.

66. Read with the first born.

67. House friendly knitting storage...think of something. Or just shove it

in a closet and take it back out in two years.

68. Dance.

69. Do more gleaning with the food bank folks, but bring a nice sturdy

stool.

70. Go to a play, take one of the kids if possible.

71. Install kitchen drawers or engineer having them installed by someone

else, and also shelves and other organizing infrastructure.

72. Go to art openings, at least once in awhile.

73. Cook outside.

74. Send birthday cards.

75. Invite people over for Sunday Brunch...and them make them cook it.

76. Buy a sewing pattern from an independent designer.

77. Trade or sell unused craft supplies.

78. Make a tool kit for the house so I don't have to borrow a hammer

from Manimal every time I want to hang a picture.

79. Make a sewing kit for the house so I don't have to run to the studio

for every minor repair.

80. Find out more about curing leather.

81. Make a monthly meal planner and make sure it includes a lot of

"freezeable" things.

82. Make a stuffed animal toy for Ragnarbaby.

83. Eat local meat. Lot's of it. Making babies requires protein.

84. Take the boys to a parade.

85. Host an out of town guest, before September.

86. Find "sweet tooth" stuff that's not 100% bad for you.

87. Dry clothes in the air instead of in the dryer....this might involve

rigging a clothesline.

88. Keep 0n working on the "mostly plants" part of Micheal Pollan's

food advice.

89. Keep track of my blood pressure.

90. Wear more dresses...empire waistlines might be a good idea.

91. Beg, borrow or steal to acquire a pair of really awesome boots,

because I'm going to need all the help I can get feeling beautiful and

kick ass.

92. Use human powered transportation whenever possible...preferably

rickshaw.

93. Get a calcium supplement and remember to take it, and hell,

why not throw some pre-natal vitamins on the list.

94. Buy flowers for myself whenever I feel like it, even if I can't

exactly afford it...and also whatever the hell else I want that's just

for me.

95. Draw portraits of my children...all of them.

96. Make "mixed CD's" for friends, and hope that they make me

some in return.

97. Forage.

98. Knit from the stash.

99. Try not to buy anything new (with reasonable exceptions like

art and underwear).

100. Have a garage sale...before September.

1 comm

Odd years are good years....

2011-01-02T16:14:00.004-05:00

I don't know why, but in my own personal numerology I've always had a thing for odd numbers, and double numbers, so 2011, ending in a double odd...I'm expecting good things.

Some of the things that weren't reflected in my big "look back" at last years list o'possibilty, were the major changes that happened in our lives last year. Among other things: I've got a job (part time, but still more than my few hours a week at the yarn shop), and The Destroyer is in school. There were major advancements from Ragnarbaby as well, of course, moving through the whole spectrum of babyhood, from inert lump to walking/running/climbing toddler.

So without further blithering, here it is: the 2011, super fantastic, extra fabu, nifty neato list of things that it would certainly be great if I could accomplish:

1. Plan, and do activities with my children.

2. Write more, watch less.

3. Buy music.

4. Do a pull-up.

5. Subscribe to a magazine.

6. Schedule "studio time."

7. Publish three knitting patterns.

8. Eat something I've never eaten before.

9. Make curtains for the living room.

10. Reupholster the goddamn dining room chairs.

11. Yell less.

12. Journal.

13. Get more involved with "the farm."

14. Plant something in the planter boxes on the back porch.

15. Cook with Isis.

16. Go camping.

17. Make time to spin.

18. Make something out of wood.

19. Read a book that someone else recommended.

20. Write letters to my mother.

21. Brush and floss.

22. Make a household budget.

23. Put some money out of each paycheck into a savings account.

24. Shop local.

25. Keep up with the push-ups.

26. Drink less.

27. Take the kids for nature walks.

28. Figure out a way to get both of the little ones on the bike.

29. Visit someone out of state (not my parents).

30. List something for sale on Etsy.

31. Keep in touch with my brother.

32. Hang closet rods.

33. Give presents.

34. Be deliberate about sugar.

35. Get a tattoo.

36. Clear off the top of my dresser.

37. Settle Ragnarbaby into a "big boy" bed, also known as "reclaim the sleeping space."

38. Get camera fixed.

39. Get better at taking pictures.

40. Sing.

41. Balance the bank account.

42. Go to a concert.

43. Weave.

44. Get in shape. Instead of "become a babe" like last year, this will be known either as "become a goddess" or "become a warrior princess." I'm undecided so far.

45. Use the phone to keep in touch with far away people.

46. Laundry. Don't let it eat the house.

47. Practice swimming.

48. Preserve food.

49. Chore schedule...make one.

50. Go to an improving lecture.

51. Explore the idea of writing for a local news outlet.

52. Try to appreciate the "boyness" of my boys.

53. Write the birth stories, both of them.

54. Try not to be so bossy.

55. Practice jumping rope.

56. Clutter....just don't do it.

57. Be serious about "stuff," what I need, what I want and what I can do without.

58. Experiment with savory pies.

59. "Run" (or walk really fast) a 5K.

60. Continue with book binding experiments.

61. Clear out the backyard enough that I'm not worried about the kids playing out there.

62. Mural a wall in the house.

63. Eat more fish.

64. Make some kind of shoe.

65. Read a non-fiction book that is not about gardening or food.

66. Read with the first born.

67. House friendly knitting storage...think of something.

68. Dance.

69. Do more gleaning with the food bank folks.

70. Go to a play, take one of the kids if possible.

71. Install kitchen drawers or engineer having them installed by someone else.

72. Go to art openings, at least once in awhile.

73. Cook outside.

74. Send birthday cards.

75. Invite people over for Sunday Brunch.

76. Buy a sewing pattern from an independent designer.

77. Trade or sell unused craft supplies.

78. Make a tool kit for the house so I don't have to borrow a hammer from Manimal every time I want to hang a picture.

79. Make a sewing kit for the house so I don't have to run to the studio for every minor repair.

80. Find out more about curing leather.

81. Make a monthly meal planner.

82. Make a stuffed animal toy for Ragnarbaby.

83. Eat local meat.

84. Take the boys to a parade.

85. Host an out of town guest.

86. Find "sweet tooth" stuff that's not 100% bad for you.

87. Dry clothes in the air instead of in the dryer....this might involve rigging a clothesline.

88. Keep 0n working on the "mostly plants" part of Micheal Pollan's food advice.

89. Keep track of my blood pressure.

90. Wear more dresses.

91. Beg, borrow or steal to acquire a pair of really awesome boots.

92. Use human powered transportation whenever possible.

93. Get a calcium supplement and remember to take it.

94. Buy flowers for myself whenever I feel like it, even if I can't exactly afford it.

95. Draw portraits of my children.

96. Make "mixed CD's" for friends, and hope that they make me some in return.

97. Forage.

98. Knit from the stash.

99. Try not to buy anything new (with reasonable exceptions like art and underwear).

100. Have a garage sale.

Good-bye, old year that was.

2011-01-01T16:38:00.002-05:00

For the last couple of years I've gotten in the habit of making a list of 100 goals/ambitions for the new year. I don't call them resolutions because there's not really any resolve. I guess it's a "power of positive thinking" thing. Why not start the year off with a huge amount of gung-ho?

The only problem is that I do feel a need to check back, oh, right about now, and see how I did.

So....here it is: the list of things that I did or did not accomplish in 2010.

Duh-dun-dat-dat-dun!

1. Remember that your children are CHILDREN, cut them some slack, woman.

Hmm....definitely need some work on this one.

2. Organize the crafting supplies so that they are no longer in danger of swallowing the house. Just because it's a horizontal surface that doesn't give me a license to pile yarn upon it.

Uhm...no comment? I do periodically haul bins of yarn over to the studio, but it always come creeping back.

3. Follow Michael Pallon's simple rule about eating: Eat Food, Not too Much, Mostly Plants. I will be concentrating a lot on that middle one: not too much!

Still working on this one, but getting better.

4. Do as much shopping as possible at the Lansing City Market, which is a walkable 2.5 miles from my house.

Utter fail. I think I've been there maybe 3 times this year.

5. Write Petoh's birth story.

6. Write Ash's birthstory.

Fail, fail. Whoa, not doing so good.

7. Work in the studio.

Well, I did work in the studio...maybe even half a dozen times.

8. Keep track of knitting and sewing projects, with an eye towards finishing things and not starting new projects until others are finished.

I do think I've made progress in this area. I haven't brought (too) much new yarn into the house, and I've finished a couple of projects that have been dogging around for awhile.

9. Strength train.

Well, I didn't start it until about three weeks ago, but I have been doing my push ups and sit ups.

10. Finish the Red/Orange spinning project.

DONE! Unequivocal success. Take that 2010.

11. Eat locally...Michigan is my local and doesn't that make me lucky.

I think we've done pretty well with this lately, although I've been backsliding recently because, well, it's winter, and I still like broccoli.

12. Make To Do Lists. Somehow I seem to get a lot more done when I can put an efficient little check mark next to something.

Not so much.

13. Take the kids to plays or concerts, or cultural somethings or other.

Fail.

14. Work with Abby, Katie and Brian on the knitted stuff into clay project.

15. Also the quilt blocks into tiles project.

16. Landscape the yard...at least plant some grass or something.

17. Write an artist's statement and resume.

18. Get the Viking Hat Pattern edited and ready for distribution on Ravelry.

19. Make soap.

Fail, fail, fail, fail, fail, fail...man. This is...uh...very inspirational in terms of getting my shit in order for next year.

20. Teach a class.

Done! Thanks Thursday night ladies.

21. Take a class.

I'm pretty sure I did take at least one class this year.

22. Find out about selling things at the farmer's market.

23. Make a chore schedule.

24. Go camping.

25. Make computer time more constructive. Updating facebook status and playing solitaire, not constructive. Updating blog (assuming it's a real update and not a glorified facebook status) and editing knitting patterns, constructive.

Fail, fail, fail, fail...

26. Commit to cloth diapers. I've gotten a little lax about using cloth, since we keep a packet of disposables around for nighttime (and when we are running errands and when I'm too lazy to wash diapers, or worse yet when I'm too lazy to take the clean diapers out of the laundry basket...it's a vicious cycle).

Not only have I failed at this, but since returning to work I've switched almost entirely to disposable...the ones we have are just too worn out for an active toddler, and our washer doesn't get them clean enough. Stinky leaky diapers...yeah, sorry mother earth.

27. Make clothes for the kids.

Fail

28. Make or acquire some dress up clothes (the imaginative kind, not the formal wear kind) for Pete.

Fail.

29. Get involved with some of the amazing stuff Lansing has to offer.

Fail.

30. Knit a sweater for myself. I finished my first "for me" sweater last year. It's boxy and not that flattering, and made from itchy wool (handspun!) but I LOVE it and I wear it everyday. I think knitting one sweater for myself every year is a great goal. Rogue, I'm looking at you.

I'm wearing it right now. It's not the Rogue, but I have cast on for the Rogue. Average of one new sweater for me each year? I can handle that.

31. Bind books.

Yes! I've learned my first binding stitch and I've made notebooks out of old coffee cups and postcards.

32. Edit the toy collection with an eye towards imaginative play, and less banging.

Well, they just bang with whatever is left, be we have culled the toy collection down to a manageable mess...and the awesome play kitchen that Grandpa built sees a lot of use, and only some of it is as a jungle gym.

33. Keep up with laundry, both mine and the boys.

34. Alternatively transport. Walk, Bike, Bus and only as a last resort Minivan.

Fail, fail. We haven't managed to work out a bike transport system that works for both of the boys. I have high hopes for next summer though.

35. Become a babe. This is my amusing way of saying "get in shape." Somehow it's more motivating to say that I worked on becoming a babe, than that I remembered to exercise.

I have lost 5 pounds in the last month and a half.

36. Get rid of clothes I don't wear.

Success!

37. Cook with Ragnarson. Ever since the day I came downstairs to find him elbow deep in flour and broken eggs, I've been meaning to compile some "easy" recipes to make with him. Banana bread and guacamole have lots of smashing.

Fail.

38. Etsy store...everything, banner, name inventory. Sheesh.

Fail.

39. Go to spinning guild meetings. This means babysitters.

Well, if I had been smart and said "meeting" instead of plural I would be able to say "success!"

40. Preserve food. I am looking for a dehydrator if anyone has one gathering dust in their closet.

Success! I dehydrated pineapple, fruit leather, and tomatoes. I froze broccoli, kale and green beans, rhubarb, peaches, raspberries and blue berries., and I canned tomatoes, jam, apple and pear butter and peaches.

41. Reupholster the dining room chairs.

42. Weave.

43. Write. There was a time when this space was used for witty little essays instead of lame excuses about why I wasn't writing in it. I'm not promising to blog more but I'm acknowledging that I miss doing some more "conscious" writing. Facebook, you have made me lazy.

Fail, fail, fail.

44. Trillium Gallery...Kalle will sell my stuff, if I get her stuff, so I have no excuses.

I am sorry to say that the Trillium Gallery has become another casualty of Michigan's economy. We miss you Kalle!

45. Get something ready for entry into Art Prize

46. Plan crafts to do with Ragnarson, Play-doh, watercolor, etc.

47. Make an effort to get out of the house.

48. Ween Ragnarson off of Youtube. We don't have a television, but somehow I've fallen into the trap of letting my kid sit in front of the idiot box. It's harder to make supper with a toddler underfoot yes, but I'm getting sick of listening to "I want TV" temper tantrums.

Fail, fail, fail, HUGE fail...now we're streaming Netflix and we've all turned into zombies.

49. Be deliberate about acquiring new things, clothes especially. I would like to stop supporting a disposable culture.

Moderate success. I had to buy some work clothes, but I mostly like the one's I have. I think the only off the rack clothes I bought this year were tights and underwear.

50. Edit the photos on Flickr, there is a lot of crap that can just be deleted and a lot of new photos that haven't been uploaded.

Fail.

51. Encourage Ragnarson the Younger to nap in the carrier as opposed to on my lap. When he sleeps in the carrier, I get work done, when he sleeps on my lap, I watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer reruns on Hulu.

What a difference a year makes. Ragnarbaby regularly takes two hour long naps in bed, and has been know to sleep through the night...miraculous.

52. Get better at taking photos of my work, process, completed objects. The whole sheebang. Exploit Kat's generous offer of help.

Fail. The camera has been broken for about six months.

53. Tackle the toy storage problem. This will probably require making or buying some sort of shelf system.

Moderate success. Plastic bins it is.

54. Make a cover for the duvet so that it doesn't get all funky like our last...several.

Fail.

55. Grow some houseplants. We need more oxygen in here.

We now have two, three if you count the bean that Pete planted at a friend's science museum birthday party. Better than nothing.

56. Post projects on Ravelry, Craftster and Instructables. A curved piecing tutorial would probably be a good place to start.

Fail, success, success.

57. Enroll Ragnarson in some sort of active class or activity like swimming or gymnastics.

We are starting swimming for both kids on Saturday. Better late than never.

58. Eat less sugary crap. Quality Dairy donuts, I'm looking at you.

Lately, pretty good. Over the whole year? Not so much.

59. Experiment with new grains in cooking. Rice, I like you, but you are starting to get boring.

Success! Millet, barley, and qinuoa have all graced our table.

60. Read longer, more complicated stories to Ragnarson.

We did really well at this in the beginning of the year. Pippi Longstocking, Stewart Little, Henry Higgins...but then Ragnarbaby got mobile and bedtime became more complicated.

61. Defeat clutter.

How about moderately contain clutter by stuffing it in a closet or drawer?

62. Sew curtains for the house.

63. Hike a half marathon.

64. Be more active in seeking "finishing" work (I sew people's sweaters together for them) and more timely about returning the work that I take on.

65. Use the Postal Service for more than paying bills. Doesn't everyone love to get mail? Send birthday cards.

Fail, fail, fail, fail....sigh.

66. Salad, it tastes good. Eat more of it.

Success!

67. Dye.

Success...walnuts, onion skins, random black berries that I thought were elderberries but I don't think really were and sumak have all imparted their pigment into my yarn this year.

68. Refresh my knowledge of accounting. I think keeping a ledger for home and for Manimal's business would go a long way towards sorting out our money problems.

Did really well at this for Manimal's business for the first six or so months...then...not so much. Still haven't implimented a household accounting system.

69. Brush. Floss. Seriously.

Seriously, fail.

70. Barter with my artist friends. I'd like to have more work on my walls by the people I love.

Fail.

71. Use an apron.

Moderate success.

72. Invite people over for dinner. I'm specifically thinking of other couples with children, since I'd like Manimal to get to know the parents of some of Ragnarson's friends.

Success.

73. Make a "kitchen inventory" shopping list. What do we like to have on hand. What are we out of? Where do we buy it? I think this will cut down on impulse buying.

I started this, but never finished.

74. Make "parents night out" a priority.

75. Schedule some "unschooling" time with Ragnarson.

76. Work on self promotion.

77. Make a realistic and complete household budget.

78. Stick to the budget. This is going to require some help from Manimal, but I think he's on board.

79. Make time to "play" with Rat Girl. I spend too much time utilizing the "free babysitter" aspect of living with a 12 year old, and not enough on "having fun."

80. Sew clothes for myself. I have some nice wool that wants to become a skirt, I'll start there.

81. Write a children's story.

82. Sketch.

Fail x 9.

83. Find a place to garden. I am getting very frustrated with the community garden, because the poaching is out of control.

Huge success. Some wonderful friends bought a small farm and we're involved with a gardening co-op. Really hoping that I can be more involved this year now that Ragnarbaby is walking and won't be strapped to my back.

84. Stencil something.

Not just fail, but what the hell was I thinking? Stencil? What is this, Martha Stewart?

85. Gaze adoringly at my babies.

Success! I love those guys.

86. Build a wood oven in the backyard.

Fail.

87. Drink wine.

As we speak...

88. Have a girls' night out.

And it was fantastically super fun, and I need to have more of them.

89. Start to rebuild the book collection. It was decimated during the remodel.

Fail

90. Go to the dentist for a cleaning.

Success! Still haven't got my cavities filled, but, babysteps.

91. Start or join a knitting group.

Do Thursday night classes count? Sorta?

92. Make a quilt for one of the beds in the house, maybe Ragnarson's so we can have our quilt back.

How about, piece about a third of a quilt?

93. Make a dressform...assuming that my size stabilizes at some point. There was really no point in pursuing this last year, since I was PREGNANT. I did ask Nancy once if I could host a T-shirt and Duck tape party at the shop and she was (at that point) unopposed to the idea. I'll have to make her cookies and ask again. Kyle: I'm totally taking you upon your offer of help.

Done! I even have a shirt halfway tailored on it...of course I'm trying to lose a whole bunch of weight this year...we shall see.

94. Go to the beach.

Done! And it was fun.

95. Etch some glassware.

Fail.

96. Knit from stash. Documenting stash on Ravelry should help with this.

I knit from the stash, but I did not document it on Rav.

97. Set up a mail program such as outlook, so that my website email actually gets checked.

Fail.

98. Limit brain rotting activities, such as watching television on the computer and reading crappy novels.

Huge, mega absolute fail.

99. Find some new things to cook, middle eastern maybe?

I've actually gotten less adventurous cooking...BUT we have been eating at home a lot and I have two kids who make that difficult, so if I've come to rely on some version of fried rice or noodles and sauce...who can blame me?

100. Make ice cream.

Fail.

Rambling and disjointed rant of a vaguely feminist nature:

2010-12-24T16:52:00.002-05:00

Remember in the beginning when I didn't have children and my blog updates consisted of these rambling insights into my self-indulgent little world? Indeed I enjoyed a lovely two month period in which this here blog was the number one hit on a google search for the words "self delusionment." That could be because I made up the word delusionment, but never the less: NUMBER ONE!

And it seems that things have settled down somewhat around here, because in between stopping my infant from repeatedly turning the stove on, and my pre-schooler from playing his favorite game "tow truck" which involves pulling his brother around by the neck (but he is a broken car momma!), I have had a few minutes to start thinking about me. The thing that I've been thinking is: man it sucks that none of my clothes fit, that my blood pressure is sky high, that I'm starting to suffer from chronic back pain and that I feel like poo all the time.

So I decided to do something about it. I've joined a gym and I've been showing up on a semi-regular basis for a bit of hamster-wheel action on the tread-mill. I've also been counting the dreaded calories and it's ever so slowly starting to pay off. I can fit into my pants again at least.

But here's the rant.

Maybe it's because I'm a nice mid-western girl who never takes the last cookie, and responds to every compliment with a "poo-poo it's nothing" wave of the hand, but if someone does happen to compliment my (slightly) improved figure, I have caught myself feigning surprise and responding with something trite like "Oh? Well thanks, it must be from chasing after those pesky children of mine." Well...no. It's from doing my sit-ups, and spending an hour on the treadmill every chance I can get away. It's also from skipping those delicious cookies that contain an average of 650 calories per ounce.

So...you know what?

Thanks! I've been working really hard, and I appreciate it that you've noticed.

And you know what else?

You should take credit for your hard work too. Own your fabulousness. Don't just take compliments, demand them.

Ragnar... is fucking sexy damn it.

Lazy Sunday morning...

2010-11-07T10:41:00.002-05:00

The fantasy: a lazy Sunday, no alarms to go off, no children to drop off at school. Everyone gradually waking up after a good night's sleep and slowly making their way to the family bed for a little snuggle time before getting up for some made-from-scratch breakfast to be shared around the table.

The reality: Sunday morning. The children are hardwired with some sort of hint-of-daylight sensing circadian rhythm which causes their eyes to fly open at 7:15, and they belly flop into the parental sleeping space. Their motors are set on maximum, recharged by the six hours of sleep which seems to be all they need. The baby grabs his brother's hair. The Destroyer is using his father's (who is playing dead and hoping that they'll eventually give up) face as a stepping stool. After 15 minutes of listening to the parents say things like: "Ow, stop kicking me in the face," "Your brother's ear is not a handle," and "If you can't lay still you have to go back to your own bed," The Baby will get tired of being trampled by his elder, and decide that if the whole family is here in bed, then that means that the toilet is undefended and now would be a good time to get in a little splashing. Reluctantly the Mother rises to shut the bathroom door before collapsing back in bed, thus diverting Ragnarbaby's attention to the dresser, which he systematically empties. Sensing that he is missing out on fun The Destroyer joins his brother to make a nest in the pile of clothes. When the parents still fail to rise, the blankets are pulled unceremoniously from their bed and added to the "fort" which is being assembled in the hallway. Realizing that if she doesn't get some coffee soon, her spawn might not live to see another pre-dawn morning, the mother stumbles downstairs, hampered by her children who have latched on to her nether limbs as soon as her feet hit the floor. "I want trick or treat candy for breakfast!" The Destroyer yells over and over again.

Ragnar...hey, we slept in for a whole half hour, right?

Ragnarbaby blogs...

2010-10-01T10:46:00.003-04:00

Hey guys! So...I'm almost a year old now and I thought that I'd just take this opportunity to let you in on some of the exciting new things that have been happening to me lately.

Walking. Walking is pretty great, well...maybe not the walking part because that involves a lot of falling down on your butt (diapers are like a built in crash cushion!) but the standing up is simply awesome. I can reach so much stuff! Like the knobs on the stove for instance. Did you know that if you turn the stove knobs that they make a neat clicking noise and then, I am not even kidding here, FLAME SHOOTS OUT OF THE STOVE. It's like having a superpower! Also, I can take food off my brother's plate and boy does he hate that. It's hilarious!

I've got a whole bunch of teeth now, 8 all together, and they work really well for biting. I like to use them to rip off chunks of bread that I can stash around the house for later on when I get hungry. I find that a few days of "curing" brings out a subtle earthy flavor. Also, may I highly recommend stale cheerios, if you haven't already had the pleasure. If there's nothing edible around the next best thing to bite is people. You get this instant reaction that is just hysterical! And it happens again and again, it's like...cause and effect or something.

I've got to wrap this up, it's almost time for me to chug a whole bottle of milk and then pass out in a puddle of my own drool, but before I go I wanted to clue you in to this amazing thing that I've recently discovered. They're all over the place, but no one seems to understand how much fun they are. They're called "toilets" and they have this hinged lid on them that is great for banging up and down, and then when you get tired of that they're full of WATER. I know right? How much fun is that? And then if you get tired of splashing in the water, there's this handle that makes them go all swirly. I could seriously play with toilets all day long, but Mom, also known as the Fun Police, has started shutting the bathroom doors! I can't QUITE reach that doorknob yet, but I am working on it, let me tell you.

Okay, gotta go, there's a bottle of soymilk on the counter with my name on it.

Ragnarbaby...pretty much not a baby anymore.

Want to get a babysitter so we can....

2010-09-17T18:25:00.004-04:00

Just in case there are any of you out there who haven't had kids yet, I wanted to relate this conversation that I had with another mom today.

She was talking about how she's dropping her year and a half old son off at daycare twice a week, and how it's very exciting because one of those days is going to be "just for her." She felt guilty though, because it seemed unfair to her to drop her son off with strangers so that she could live it up without him. The thing that she did while he was in daycare? The fantastically fun thing that she was so guilt ridden about? The thing that she described as her "best day ever?"

Going with her husband to the Secretary of State's Office so that he could renew his driver's license. One blissful half hour in the waiting room of the DMV, where she could sit peacefully and knit while her husband read a new book that he'd been looking forward to. Incidentally this was also the special thing that they did together to celebrate his birthday.

Which of course prompted me to tell the story of how Manimal and I had recently had to hire a babysitter so that we could go to our insurance agent's office to get a new quote on our home owner's insurance, and how it just felt so great to relax and have a conversation with another grown-up without having to worry about my kids.

Then she told me about an a day when she was at her wits end and consoled herself with the thought that no matter how rotten her kid was being at that moment, that she would get some time to herself when she went to her dentist's appointment that afternoon.

This is what passes for fun in the world of parents with children under four. Renewing your driver's license, getting quotes on new insurance policies and having your teeth cleaned. Whoo hoo! We're living it up now!

Ragnar...party animal.

PS...Don't forget that Talk Like A Pirate Day is only two days away.

PPS...If you "like" me on facebook you'll be entered in my random crap give away. http://www.facebook.com/pages/Domestic-Piracy/124629280904163?ref=ts

Please listen carefully as our options have changed...

2010-09-14T17:29:00.002-04:00

Hello, you have reached Ragnar's phone. Obviously I'm not available or I would have answered the phone. I'm probably having a massage or a walrus placenta facial, or possibly cleaning out three years worth of grime that has accumulated since the birth of my first born son. It will undoubtedly be days if not months before I can be bothered to return your call, so please amuse yourself with our automated phone system. I patterned it after the one that I've spent so many happy hours with at Blue Cross Blue Shield of Michigan.

If you are calling from my son's school to report the fact that he has bit, punched, sat on or otherwise molested one of the other children, you are a big fat tattle tail and you can press one.

If you are the parent of some child from my son's school who is calling to report that your angel was bruised, offended or somehow inconvenienced by my child, let me be the first person to tell you that the world is a terrible unfair place...and you can press two.

If you are calling to compliment me on my son's knowledge of and proficiency with American slang and profanity then you can fucking press three.

If you are calling for any other reason, then hang up and call my real phone number because I never check these messages, it's a false account that I set up when I dropped The Destroyer off at his first day of school.

Ragnar...has to confess that her first born has so far exhibited nothing but exemplary behavior at his school.

Galley Tales...

2010-09-12T21:58:00.002-04:00

For those of you who question the "piracy" and think I focus a little too much on the "domestic" I want you to know that Manimal came home unexpectedly a few nights ago and found me scooping weevils out of the rice cooker with a tea strainer.

In retrospect it isn't really possible to defend one's choice to feed weevily rice to one's nearest and dearest, so I know that when I say "sleep deprivation" "new school/work schedule" "two babies with stuffy noses" and "they should be happy I bother to make dinner at all, nevermind the weevils" that you will all say: "But Ragnar...bugs...in food. UGH!!"

I had just filled the rice cooker and measured out the water when I noticed something crawling up the side of the container. At first I dismissed it as a fruit fly, but then I realized that it wasn't the right shape, and that there were more of them. BUT THE RICE WAS ALREADY MEASURED! If I scrapped it then it would have meant that I'd have had to come up with a whole different plan for dinner! And the water was already in my hand, and I figured that the weevils would float (and they did!!) and that I could just scoop them out, and that what the heck the whole thing was going to be boiled for an hour anyway. Did I mention? I'M A FUCKING PIRATE OKAY? What's a little protein between family?

Which is how it came to pass that Manimal found me, tea strainer in hand, standing over the sink swishing weevils down the drain. Like six weevils maximum, maybe a dozen at the most. If this was a recipe on one of your Dear Old Granny's batter stained recipe cards it would read "a pinch of weevils."

But...as it turns out, Manimal is a bit of a pansy when it comes to weevils. Red handed, strainer poised I answered his quizzical "Just what the hell are you doing with that strainer Ragnar" raised eyebrow stare with an innocent "How do you feel about weevils?"

Green is not his color.

"So...that's a no on weevils? I'm scooping them out and it's going to cook for like, an hour."

"Uh...no...I'd rather not have any weevils."

Then I noticed that he'd brought someone home with him from work.

A Witness.

Which, of course, is when I realized that there is really no excuse for trying to feed your family weevils, pirate crew or no.

Uncooked weeviley rice does clean out the garbage disposal amazingly well.

Ragnar...eat your sea biscuit darling.

Of cusps and thresholds.

2010-08-31T08:32:00.002-04:00

Life is changing around this old pirate ship. The Destroyer manages to get away with some pretty crazy stuff while my back is turned but so far "turning into a preschooler" is his greatest prank to date. No kidding, he's starting school in a week and while there is a certain part of me that is wringing her hands and wiping tears out of her eyes, there is another somewhat louder part of me that's saying "Hell yeah! That's six hours per day of my life back." The prospect of all that free time was so perplexing that I had to go and get a job just to fill up the void in the middle of my day...except that then I realized that only one of my children is going to school, so that still leaves me with one. Ragnarbaby is the easy one, but something tells me that they are going to notice if I try to show up for work with him strapped to my back. I guess that means some sort of childcare for him as well.

Which brings us to the truly terrifying, impossible thing which is boggling my mind: establishing a morning routine. Seriously. How the hell am I supposed to get two uncooperative toddlers (Ragnarbaby isn't actually toddling yet, but it seems a meaningless distinction at this point) up, dressed, pottied, fed and dropped at their respective repositories so that I can get my butt into work by 9 o'clock in the morning? Functioning members of society how do you accomplish this feat of scheduling razzle dazzle?

Here's the thing about the current routine at our house. There isn't one. Manimal goes to work sometime between 5am and noon. The kids and I wake up sometime between 7am and 10. It takes us anywhere from .5 to 3 hours to eat breakfast and unless we have someplace special to be we mostly wear our pajamas all day...or in the case of The Destroyer, his birthday suit. Somehow I think the nakedness thing isn't going to go over all that well at pre-school.

So stay tuned. It'll be like reality television.

This morning we learned that getting the destroyer dressed before sitting him down to breakfast is pointless since every stitch of clothing will have to be changed after he paints himself with yogurt.

Ragnar...is not a morning person.

Quotable toddler.

2010-08-30T09:28:00.002-04:00

Ragnarbaby has only one word in his vocabulary and is pretty well satisfied that "Mama" is the only word he will ever need, and why would he bother learning anymore. When The Destroyer (new title...same Ragnarson) was young he never really rocked the "Mama" so it does give me a little zing every time I hear it, although I realize that in Ragnarbaby's world Mama means "food."

Son number one, on the other hand, is a talking fool. I know for a fact that every child accumulates quotable sayings that will come back to haunt them later in life, but since I had never done the making a child from scratch thing there were a couple of months there when I was pretty sure that The Destroyer would go through life relying on the subtle variations of "ball" and "vroom" to get him through. I imagined him like the prototypical American tourist, using volume and insistence to make up for lack of language: "Ball, ball, BALL!! VROOOOOOOOOM!!!"

And now of course he blathers constantly, and I confess that sometimes I long for a simpler time.

During our perennial dinner argument one evening The Destroyer cut off my repeated "Sit down and finish your dinner," pleas with the simple but effective: "Chomp, chomp. I am eating you. You don't have a head anymore." "Destroyer, sit down." "You need to stop talking, you don't have a mouth anymore."

After telling him that I had to "Quick, run up to the store," I was told. "NO! You need to WALK to the store. If you run really fast you will fall down and get a hole in you and blood will come out of it."

When I try to encourage independence by asking him to pick out his own clothes or perform some other simple task he says "You can do it Mom, I know you can!"

Manimal found him sobbing, unable to find his second flip-flop (which he was sitting on). "My flip flop went on an ADVENTURE!"

His favorite food is "Meat, with no yucky stuff."

His favorite activity is playing with the dirt in our front yard (there might have been a few blades of grass struggling through the construction debris, but they have been long since plowed under by a variety of dump trucks and diggers). His second favorite activity is badgering anyone who happens to walk past. "What is your name? What is your name. My birthday is in August," (calling after them as they walk away) "My BIRTHDAY IS IN AUGUST!!"

He went fishing with Grandpa during summer vacation and was thrilled to discover that "Fish are full of MEAT!"

Ragnar...proud mother of the extremely verbose.

PROJECT...fruit fly trap

2010-08-27T10:44:00.003-04:00

It seems unfair that the rabbits tied up the "breeding like" cliche when the fruit fly is the obvious, hands-down champion. Half an hour of hot weather and they show up everywhere. The worm bin has been banished to the back porch until the temperature becomes more civilized. The garbage disposal requires constant attention. Don't even talk to me about the dirty diaper pail because that's just...ugh.

And since I despise the little boogers. every season is a chance to try out another fruit fly death chamber, and after several summers of tweaking I can personally vouch for this model as having the highest body count.

Gather your materials: you will need a container, something for bait, dish soap, a plastic bag with a square bottom and a rubber band. For a container I use a jelly jar, but anything with a fairly large opening will work. For maximum gloat factor pick something glass so that you can hold it up to the light and exclaim with delighted disgust over all the dead flies. For bait you need something fermented, since fruit flies are attracted to the vinegar fumes given off by ripe fruit. I get good results from wine vinegar, although you could use beer or wine.
Cut one corner off the plastic bag, high enough up that will fit over the jar opening, and snip the tip off the corner to make a tiny little fruit fly sized hole. Pour about an inch of vinegar or beer into the bottom of the jar and add a small dash of soap. The vinegar lures the flies and the dish soap prevents them from riding the surface tension, and sucks them under to a vinegary grave.

Fold the bag over the top of the jar and secure it with the rubber band so that there are no gaps around the edge for fruit flies to escape from. The "corner" of the bag should hang down inside the jar like a cone. I like the big fat rubber bands that come on broccoli.

And hey presto! A fruit fly trap. I keep a couple of these on the counter in strategic locations and change the liquid every week or so.

Ragnar...avenger of ripening fruit.

The awful truth about baby carrots.

2010-08-13T13:32:00.002-04:00

Okay, it's not awful, but that seemed like a catchy title. Some others might be "Baby carrots, not Babies at all." and "Baby carrots, used to be cattle feed."

Have you ever grown a carrot? If so you've probably noticed that the single, long tapering root is not the only, or even the primary form that carrots favor. At least as likely, sometimes more depending on the density of your soil, is the "octopus" carrot as Ragnarson calls them. And yet, when purchasing carrots in the store the octopus carrots are nowhere to be seen.

Except that they are: whittled down into little baby carrots. I imagine some sort of carrot whittling machine in the carrot bagging factory somewhere, where the monster carrots, the misshapen mutant carrots are dumped into a big hopper and then (grind, clang, clash) out the other end come scrubbed, peeled an appropriately whittled down baby carrots. And over all I think this is probably a good thing. I think that carrot consumption has risen considerably since the advent of the baby carrot. They're so CUTE after all, those little rounded nubby things, and so convenient for snacking and (I suppose) cooking (although the taste degrades significantly in the whittling process, I think). No washing, no peeling. And before there was a baby carrot whittling machine, those mutant carrots were bound for the carrot scrap heaped to be juiced, or mixed in with animal feed, or (gasp) trashed. So hurray for baby carrots.

But can I just say, that as a mother who struggles to get her son to eat anything remotely vegetative, that I can definitely see a market for "monster" carrots. My truck crashing, gun-out-of-toast-making, little-brother-walloping manchild is much more excited about eating something that looks like it might be related to the creature from the black lagoon than he is about eating a neatly whittled, domesticated "Baby."

So lucky for him there's a lot of clay in our garden soil, and mutant carrots abound.

Ragnar...mother of monsters.

Itty Bitty Knitty

2010-07-19T10:35:00.003-04:00

I do still knit. There are fleeting moments when both of my "angels" are asleep...occasionally they are both engaged in some activity (for Ragnarbaby this is crawling around on the floor finding stale cheerios, for Ragnarson it's playing in the dirt in the front yard and screaming at passing pedestrians "Nice to MEET YOU! My birthday is in AUGUST!!") and I can squeeze in a few rows. Due to the time constrictions I mostly knit very very slowly. While this has cut down on yarn purchases it has also eliminated that feeling of accomplishment that you get when you pull the yarn tail through that final cast-off stitch...another one bites the dust, well done Ragnar, your family will be warm this winter.

Enter: very small knitting projects.

The Sons Ragnar are soon to be in possession of a spanky new play kitchen made by their Grandfather, and so I thought it would be fun to stock it with food.

A lot of our eggs come from the farmer's market, or from friends with backyard chickens, so that's the look I was trying for. This is the pattern I started with, but I added a few rows here and there, made some eggs more pointy...etc. so that I could get the mismatched dozen. The yarn is Cascade 220, and the color variations come from coffee, tea and walnuts that Ragnarson collected for me from the backyard.

This was a fun project, and I love that I can actually finish something.

You'll probably be seeing a lot more food around here for awhile.

Ragnar...why not knit it?

Communication...

2010-07-03T10:53:00.003-04:00

We're having a bit of a communication breakdown here at Chez Ragnar. Ragnarbaby's increased mobility has made it a bit more complicated for me to protect him from his older brother. Used to be that I just carried him around in a backpack or sling (which I still do..WAY too much of the time, oh my 28 pound son) but lately he is very insistent about getting down on the floor...or rather, crawling up the stairs. This leaves him open to all sorts of "affection" from his brother.

Things that I have caught Ragnarson in the act of doing to his brother:

Picking him up by the neck to try and put him in his Bumpo chair

Rolling over on top of him a'la steamroller

Poking him in the eye

Feeding him pieces of the train set

Hauling him off the stairs/out of the cupboards using his leg.

Trying to lift him into the playpen

Trying to lift him out of the playpen

"Reading" to him by pressing his nose firmly against the pages of a book

There are more, of course, we experience approximately 30 or so of these "incidents" per day. For awhile I was trying to enforce a strict "Do not touch your brother" policy, but I've since realized 1). That this is just simply never going to happen, and 2). That Ragnarbaby is usually smiling and giggling while these various mother-hysteria-inducing things are being done to him. So for now we're working on "Don't hit your brother," and hoping for the best.

The problem is that Ragnarson has personally defined so many different types of physical touching that just telling him not to "hit" someone is completely ineffectual. He's a big fan of the onomatopoeia. So far this morning he has "tonked" "splunked" "splatted" and "twished" his brother, but I haven't so far gotten him to admit that he's "hit" him. Our ad infinitum interactions go something like this:

"Don't hit Ragnarbaby."

"I TONKED him."

"Tonking is hitting, don't tonk him or hit him."

"I SPLUNKED him."

"Don't tonk him, or hit him or splunk him! Or twish him or plunk him or splat him."

"I will SPLAT him!"

"NO! You won't. Don't TOUCH him at all."

But we all know that's not going to happen. So we're just feeding him up as much as we can, and hoping for his own sake that he's a durable little chap...we have yet to see the inside of an emergency room with this one, so here's hoping.

Ragnarmama...have you seen my wit's end? I seem to have misplaced it.

Good bye, Louise.

2010-06-03T17:17:00.004-04:00

I want to veer slightly away from the "norm" of this space a take a turn towards the serious for a moment. On May 31st the woman in the picture above died of a heart attack at age 98. Her name was Louise Bourgeois and she was a defining influence on me as a young artist.

I think that it's safe to say that almost everyone has heard of Picasso, Monet, and Van Gogh. There are some 20th century artists that are so recognizable that they have become part of the crossword puzzle lexicon of our lives. We know the Beatles, we know Picasso. It makes us well rounded consumers of popular culture.

Name some 20th century women artists. If you can get past Georgia O'Keefe and Frida Kahlo then more power to you.

It might get a little lost in the shuffle here at the old D. P. but I (sometimes) am an actual (really, I have credentials) artist. There are times when I whine a bit about how my chosen medium (fiber) causes people to take me less seriously than some, but I have the privilege of living in a time when my gender doesn't immediately disqualify me as an artist with important things to say. Even though many of you haven't heard of her, I owe that honor in a large part to Ms. Louise.

I'm finding it unexpectedly difficult to write this (Manimal came home a few minutes ago to find me teary eyed over the keyboard). I hope that you will all take a few minutes to honor the founder of "confessional" art. (Is there another kind? Really? I had no idea...).

Ragnar...is sometimes an artist who owes a lot of her bravery of self expression to one L.B. dead at 98.

Shameless begging disguised as a blog post.

2010-05-30T19:42:00.003-04:00

Long ago, maybe two years ago, long in internet terms anyway, someone sent me an invitation to join Twitter.

I laughed out loud. I seriously thought that it was a joke. Someone had realized the ridiculousness of every suburban nobody publishing their excruciating lives in microscopic detail, and thought "ha! wouldn't it be funny if we took this one step further and had up-to-the-second blogging?" I figured that they sent it to me because as one of those self publishing "twits" I was in a unique position to realize how ridiculous it was. Ha ha, I get the joke. Now seriously, let me get back to my blog, I was about to update about the color and texture of my newborn's poo, and how at first I thought it meant he was dying but now, after extensive googling I've decided that it means he's gifted.

Then I saw a "twitter" side bar on someone's blog and realized that, no, it was a real thing. Then I banged my head against the table several times and loudly wailed "what is the world coming to!??"

So I felt superior for awhile, because I wasn't going to get involved with anything so blatantly absurd.

Then I accidentally joined facebook (seriously, it was a slip and fall sort of thing, I'll tell you about it sometime) and was seduced by the "status update" format of internet expression and the blog languished. I mean, of course, every so often there would be a poo so monumental that I just couldn't not blog about it, but for all those normal everyday poos it was just so much easier to type "Ragnar's baby's poo was within normal range for smell and texture, although color was a bit on the greenish side."

Shortly after that I started thinking of Twitter as a party that I'd dis-invited myself to.

And here I am. The goth kid in the prom dress. The nerd on the cheerleader squad.

Ragnar. A twit. You all knew it was inevitable didn't you? Just play along and act surprised okay?

@MamaRagnar

I'll feel less redunculous when I have some followers.

Ragnar...my pride, it's stuck in my throat, the Heimlich, quick somebody!

Three times a day...

2010-05-28T23:33:00.002-04:00

At some point it will sink in, and I will no longer be tempted to say things that are basically a variation of "Wow! This baby is different than the last one."

Food is on our minds here at Chez Ragnar. I am exploring my yearly urge to plant and harvest, and Ragnarbaby is discovering the exciting world that is food from a spoon. When Ragnarson was a wee one, I gave him some experimental "solids" at 5 and a half months in a misguided attempt to encourage the "sleeping through the night" which it turns out he is simply not capable of. My first born is many things, but a sleeper is not one of them. Conversely, I decided to wait on solids for as long as possible with Ragnarbaby, since the last thing I feel like doing these days is preparing yet another meal (that would make three...one for Manimal, Rat Girl an I, one for the picky-pants Ragnarson and now...sigh...a freezer full of puree for the baby).

Someone had a different idea.

It started with squash, and then sweet potato. Then we moved on to peas, parsnips, beets, avacados, applesauce, cheerios, teething buscuits and soup. It's been a busy three weeks.

You know the great thing about feeding your baby beets? Zombie baby pictures.

Next time: my misguided attempts at the cultivating of food.

Ragnar...eat eat eat, three times a day, everyday.

PS. Thanks to those of you who have mentioned that you've missed seeing regular updates in this space. I love feed back and I'm really happy that you're enjoying these posts...but for Goddess sake! why don't you comment?

PPS. Apologies for the crap pictures, but my "real" camera is crapped out and I can't face the Nikon "warranty" department.

PROJECT..."scrap paper notebooks"

2010-05-02T19:40:00.003-04:00

If you actually read that huge list of things that I proposed to do during the year of 2010, you might remember that submitting a project to instructables was one of my goals. For those of you not familiar with Instructables, it's an awesome site. Members post step-by-step instructions for just about any project you can possibly imagine. Way way way in the dark and dusty archives of the old D.P. there is a post where I linked some instructables projects, such as hooking LED's up to your bike wheel to make a lighted picture while you're riding...I of course would like to pimp out my spinning wheel, but haven't tackled electronics as a hobby just yet.

One of the things they do are contests, and they are running a contest right now for uses for paper coffee cups. I drink a lot of coffee, and I do occasionally come in contact with a paper cup, so I thought I might be able to think up some use for the garbagey things.

Voila! A scrap paper notebook. The only "new" thing in this project is the thread. The covers are of course, coffee cups, and the pages are messed up bids from our construction company, which we have a lot of, because apparently I haven't learned my lesson about proof reading BEFORE I print.

Super easy, super quick and super cool. All of my friends and neighbors will be getting "garbage" notebooks for solstice this year.

Ragnar...dumpster diving is the new black.

You might be an attachment parent if...

2010-04-19T08:47:00.002-04:00

When I was pregnant with Ragnarson I did a lot of reading about what sort of mom I was going to be...turns out you're just going to be yourself and there is not really anything you can do about it. I remember one conversation with Manimal when I used the term "attachment parenting" and he gave me a funny look and said "I think that's just called 'being a parent.'"

For some reason this all came back to me the other day when I was getting ready to run some errands and was a little late getting out the door because I couldn't find the SECOND baby carrier. Not that I intended to carry both babies, but rather I needed two carriers with different purposes, a pouch for quick in and out errands, and the more complicated Ergo for carrying Ragnarbaby on my back for longer periods of time. Suddenly this struck me as very funny, and I said to myself "You might be an attachment parent if you can't run a few simple errands without two different baby carriers"

And then of course I couldn't stop, so (with a nod towards Jeff Foxworthy) I give you:

You might be an attachment parent if:

You think of WAHM as a legitimate career choice rather than a sound effect in a comic book.

You have ever wondered why you can't buy maternity clothes with nursing slits.

Your idea of a fun night out is getting together with your girlfriends to tell birth stories.

Your baby sleeps in your bed, and your husband sleeps on a futon in the living room.

Your three year old can finger spell "boobies" in American Sign Language.

You've ever experienced a moment of panic because you couldn't remember where you left your baby, only to realize that he's asleep on your back.

Your toddler asks for kale in his smoothie.

You use the phrase "free range" to describe both your eggs and your children.

Your leftovers are stored in empty tubs from Organic BGH free yogurt.

Your lettuce comes from the farmers market, but all your baby toys come from Germany where they have higher lead standards.

You buy separate detergent for your diapers, but never bother separating your lights from your darks.

You think of "stripping" as something that you do to diapers, rather than something that you do with a pole.

You use the word "babywearing" in everyday conversations.

You think of CSA pick up as a playdate.

You've ever been to a potluck where some of the dishes featured parsnips and kale.

Your play-doh is made with organic flour.

You can put on a Moby Wrap in under a minute.

You buy your diapers on Etsy.

You rate your baby carriers by how easy it is to pee while wearing them.

You own several diaper covers that are "hand wash only."

Your baby wears a hat that was knit by your midwife.

You "get" breastfeeding humor, and have several funny breastfeeding stories of your own.

You know Ebay's policy about selling used diapers.

That's all that I've come up with so far, can you think of some?

Ragnar....hippy dippy greeny mommy.

PROJECT..."play-doh"

2010-04-16T10:16:00.004-04:00

Ragnarson is a big "play-doh" fan. He likes to shred it into little pieces, grind it into the upholstery, mash all the colors together into a uniform muddy "sludge," and even occasionally make something out of it...usually snakes, or dog poop, which look amazingly similar. Since one of the things he does with it is eat it, I figured I would try to make my own, so that at least I know what it is that he's eating. Hasbro claims that the exact ingredients are proprietary, although it is mostly water, salt and flour. There's got to be something else in it though, else how would it have that uniquely foul "play-doh" smell.

There are several recipes for play-doh floating around. I chose the slightly more complicated one, thinking that the addition of oil and cream of tarter might make for a nicer "consistency" in the finished product.

The recipe is:

1 cup flour

1 cup warm water

2 tsp cream of tarter

1 tsp oil

1/4 cup salt

and food coloring

I had all this stuff sitting around in my kitchen, except for the cream or tarter and the food coloring, but I decided to buy "cheap" versions for this project instead of using my lovely King Arthur Flour and sea salt...the total ended up being right around $10, most of which was for the food coloring. I made a double batch and have at least enough supplies for one more double batch, so that makes this just slightly less expensive than "real" play-doh.
First you mix it all together, which is Ragnarson's favorite part of any project. I left the food coloring out so that I could make several different colors, but it would be much easier to mix it in at this point for a single color batch. When everything is mixed together you cook it over medium-low heat until it all sticks together. At first I was afraid I had done something wrong because the bottom layer gelled up almost immediately leaving a soupy mess on the top of the pan, but with continued stirring the texture evened out and it all stuck together. I didn't photograph this step because it came together a lot faster than I anticipated and I was afraid to leave the stove to fetch the camera.
I decided to do four colors because there were four colors of food coloring in the package.
I squirted about a dozen drops or so of the food coloring into a small zip top bag and then added the un-dyed dough wad to squish. If you were doing this project with older children I imagine the bag squishing would be a favorite step...we'll look forward to that in the future, eh Ragnarson?
Squish until all the food coloring is absorbed into the clay. The finished wad is then pretty color safe, and it doesn't dye your hands.
I'm storing all the colors together in one bag, since I figured they'd all turn to "sludge" soon enough.

The finished product is a little less "gritty" than "real" play-doh, and as a result can be much more throughly ground into upholstery. It's water soluble, though, and so far cleans up pretty easily. I did this a couple of weeks ago and the dough is still nice and squishy in it's bag, and doesn't show any signs of rancidity or funky-smell.

Total time invested, about half an hour, and no messier than any normal baking project would be. I'm looking forward to doing this again, possibly with more "help" from the young one.

Ragnar...is only slightly discolored from food coloring.

Overheard...

2010-04-14T17:13:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I get a babysitter for Ragnarson so that I can lock myself in our "office" and do fun exciting stuff like balance the checkbook. It gives me a unique opportunity to eavesdrop on my son while he is being watched by someone else.

For instance, I just overheard this conversation regarding which DVD should be watched:

Ragnarson: It's the one with pirates in it?

Babysitter: No, it's Charlotte's Web.

Ragnarson: With pirates in it?

Babysitter: No Ragnarson, this is the one about the pig.

Ragnarson: Does it have pirates?

Babysitter: NO! Ragnarson, this is the one about the pig, and the spider. Charlotte's web.

Ragnarson: (starting to cry) I don't want that one! It has scary stuff in it!

Babysitter: (sigh) Ragnarson, it does not have scary stuff in it. It's Charlotte's web.

Ragnarson: It has pirates in it?

Babysitter: No.

Ragnarson: I want to watch this one! (picking another DVD from the pile)

Babysitter: This one is about a duck.

Ragnarson: And pirates?

Babysitter: No, I don't think any of these DVD's have pirates in them.

Ragnarson: This one is Charlotte's web?

Babysitter: (I couldn't tell for sure, being in another room, but it sounded like a head being struck against a wall)

Ragnar...super spy.

Brand naming....

2010-03-29T10:48:00.002-04:00

My "television" free child is no more, I'm sorry to say. It started with Dr. Suess videos on youtube, and then slid into the occasional "elmo's world" DVD, and now we've reached the point where he's watching full length movies with his babysitter three or four nights a week. I confess I have also fallen into the "sit in one spot and watch these flashy lights while I make dinner" trap. It's just SO much easier than trying to cook and keep him from destroying the house at the same time. Plus I'm watching a lot of crap on the computer these days (Hulu, you devil!) while I'm still confined to a chair for relatively long periods of time with a nursing baby, and telling him that he can't watch something while I'm plugged in seems like a huge hypocritical double standard.

This is a rambling way of saying that Ragnarson has solidly joined the media generation, and it just as likely to refer to a "thomas" as he is to refer to it as a "train."

There are a few staples that haven't filtered down yet. So far the Dora/Diego brand hasn't infiltrated our lives, although we've had a couple of near misses. We just received a mess of hand-me-downs from a friend with slightly older children, and the shirt that Ragnarson snatched out of the pile was one featuring a chest sized reproduction of Diego, with his baby jaguar. He was admiring his new duds in the mirror and I asked him "who's that on your shirt."

"It's a tiger!" growl, growl.

"Is there someone else on the shirt too?"

"Uhm...a boy!" jump jump

"Do you know that boy's name?"

"Uhm...YES!" jump jump

"What is his name?"

"Uhm...SHIRT BOY!"

Everytime I pass a television blaring out this pseudo educational blather I will think to myself. "The adventures of SHIRT BOY!"

Ragnar... compromising her principles since 2007.

The making of MEGA-CRAYON....

2010-03-28T07:48:00.003-04:00

Ragnarson loves his crayons. Mostly he loves to break them in half, peel the paper off of them and use his finger nail to scrape little bits of crayon off onto the table and floor. OH! and drawing on the walls, yes, let's not forget about drawing on the walls.

When I was little my mother used to melt crayons down in muffin tins and make these really cool, sometimes multi-colored "big" crayons. I don't own a muffin tin however. It's on my "to buy" list, but hasn't made it to the top yet. I remembered someone telling me that they made a mega-crayon by pouring melted crayon into old deodorant containers. A quick google led me to this site which had some really good advice.

Here's all the equipment. Broken up crayons with the paper peeled off. Clean disassembled deodorant containers, a glass measuring cup that you don't mind getting crayon wax all over, mold release spray, and a couple of drinking straws. I should mention that the total project cost (if you count broken up crayons that you have lying around as "free") is about $10 for the mold release spray. I don't know how important this is. I decided it was worth the $10 to not risk having the crayon bind into the container, and I must say it seems to have worked beautifully.
Here are the two color groups of crayons, for the two different containers.
Before melting the crayon wax I sprayed the inside of the containers and the drinking straws with mold release. I specifically didn't spray the little "platformy" part of the deodorant bottle, because I want the crayon to stick to this base. The type of mold release that I bought specifies letting the mold dry before using it. After everything was dry I screwed the platform/base thing back into the container and slipped the drinking straw over the threaded rod. This is something that I wouldn't have thought about, but was suggested by the website above, and I have to say seems like a really good idea. Crayon wax likes to stick to things, apparently.
Then I melted the crayons in a pot of boiling water. If you are one of those people who own a mircrowave, that might be an easier way to melt crayons. This method made the crayons on the bottom melt into soup, and the crayons on top fuse into a solid block that was melting resistant. I had planned on just letting the crayons sit and disturbing them as little as possible so that there might be some swirly pattern left in the "MEGA CRAYON" but I am just not that patient, it turns out. Also I had to keep the water pretty much at a rolling boil. When I did the second batch of crayons I put the lid on the pot and that seemed to help them melt more quickly.
Here is the hot wax in the container, which I promptly and impatiently put into the freezer.
As the wax cooled a bubble appeared, which I could theoretically try to fill with more wax (I did, actually on the second crayon) but by the time I noticed it I had already switched over to the blue green crayons. When the container felt cool I pulled the straw out, and voila! MEGA CRAYON is born.
Ragnarson was very into the big crayon for about 5 minutes. "WHERE is my BIG crayon MOMMA!??" After throughly covering a piece of paper with red scribbles, he realized that he could use the cover of the container to scrape shreds of crayon off onto the floor, which was a huge improvement over using his fingernails.

Project notes: the website where I found the instructions suggested fastening some screws into the base/platform part of the container to secure the crayon. I didn't have any screws lying around and I am an impatient person so I skipped this step, and instead just didn't spray mold release on that part of the container. Ragnarson has already tried to pull the crayon out, so I'll let you know if he succeeds. If he does we can alway screw in some screws and remelt the wax.

My two containers held wildly different amounts of crayon. I had to add more crayons, twice, to melt enough wax for the blue/green crayon, this lead me to believe that the "swirly" effect I was going for would be easier to get by melting smaller amounts of crayon and pouring them in layers.

Fun project, not that time consuming, not that messy. We shall see if Ragnarson continues to enjoy the big crayons.

Ragnar...crafty old lady.

What the....?

2010-03-25T15:35:00.004-04:00

Washing deodorant containers Ragnar? You're taking this housewife thing a little too far, don't you think?

Ragnar...I smell a project!

Huge dork.

2010-03-22T12:35:00.001-04:00

I swatched the 5-ply, and it was white knuckle exciting.

So I made a puzzle out of it.

Ragnar...HUGE DORK.

yAAAAARn...like what pirates knit with

2010-03-12T17:52:00.002-05:00

Ever do that thing where you envision some project that will be REALLY cool when it's done, and then jump into it without really thinking and decide halfway through that it's ridiculous and almost give up because you were certifiably crazy to think that it was a good idea in the first place, but then power through because, well, you already started and then finally finally after several YEARS get it all done and feel just pleased as all hell with yourself?

Yeah.

Me too.

That's a pound each of two different colors of FIVE PLY yarn, with different amounts of each color per skein so that in the end there is a graduation of color from end to the other. Oh and, yeah, worsted weight. Thems some skinny singles right there.

Except I just realized that the project isn't really over until I knit something out of it...damn.

Well then here I go again.

Ragnar...cannonball!!!

Chasing the dragon....

2010-03-01T10:06:00.002-05:00

I have a self-diagnosed "addictive" personality and a high "fidget factor," those two qualities combined make me a yarn shop owner's dream customer. New squishy yarn? Funky new pattern? Oh sure, I'm working on about six hundred unfinished projects at the moment, but at last check there was at least one pair of unused needles still in my "organizer" (I'm using quotes there, because really, how much of an organizer can it be if there is nothing in it?).

I was making coffee a few days ago, and I realized that the coffee "addiction" has really gotten out of hand...because? I was making coffee before I went up to the coffee shop to meet some friends for coffee. The brew that I make at home is so far removed from regular old brewed with a filter, drip into a pot coffee that I no longer consider it to be the same substance.

The picture at the beginning of this post shows my "coffee station." First of all, notice that my coffee grinder is of the industrial variety...literally the same thing you would grind your coffee with if you were buying whole bean at the grocery store...this was a present from Manimal...up there in the top ten of the most thoughtful gifts he's ever given me. When he brought it home I was a little dubious...it takes up a full square foot and a half of counter space after all, but after a couple of months of use I can say unconditionally that I LOVE MY COFFEE GRINDER. Then there is my coffee pot. It's a "moka" pot, or a stove top espresso maker. That is a 12 cup pot, 12 cute little demitasse cups that is. When I drink it, it's two cups. Two pints...like beer. This stuff is so thick that you almost have to chew it. If I don't make coffee within an hour of rising, I get a piercing headache that starts in my eyeballs.

Good thing I never took up smoking.

Ragnar...and I am a coffee addict.

Huge Art Clearance Sale...

2010-02-23T14:38:00.003-05:00

I have a couple of boxes of older pieces, mostly matted blocks under 8" square (sometimes the matting bumps them up closer to 15" or so) that I have been lugging about through various studio moves. This is all work that would be for display at art fairs, but I'm not doing shows right now, and I don't have the money to complete the framing in order to display them in a gallery show...so really they are taking up much needed space in my new smaller quarters.

I've uploaded (extremely crappy!) snap shots of everything I'm "clearancing" on my face book "Artist" page (I have FANS! how crazy is that?) so if you are interested in aquiring a Ragnar orignial, surf over and check it out. If you are long distance and seriously interested I can work on getting you a better picture.

Here's the link...

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jessica-Henderson-Quilt-Art/218784426082?ref=ts

PS I've also reduced the prices on a couple of huge wall quilts...still expensive but just the thing to cozy up the sitting room in your spare mansion.

Sleep and other things that get taken for granted.

2010-02-22T10:12:00.002-05:00

There's a Jewish folk tale about a man who has a whole bunch of children. He goes to the Rabbi and says, "Rabbi my house is so noisy and chaotic that I can't think, it's driving me crazy!" and the Rabbi says "Go home and bring your chickens into the house with you." So the man goes home and lets the chickens come in the house which of course only makes the situation worse. So he goes back to the Rabbi and says "I brought the chickens into the house like you asked but it only made it worse." "Well, now bring the donkey into the house." And so it goes. Finally the Rabbi tells him to take all of the animals out of the house and put them back in the barn. The next week he comes to the Rabbi and says "Rabbi! Thank you, my house is so peaceful and quiet!"

I wouldn't say that it's quiet around here just yet, but there have been several developments that are making my life seem much more peaceful. First of all Ragnarson has switched from telling me: "I pooped in my diaper," to "I want to poop in the potty." This is just about the most beautiful phrase I have ever heard. I'm also hearing more "I need to go pee." and less "I peed" which has cut down on laundry considerably (although I still feel like Mad Eye Moody when it comes to laundry: CONSTANT VIGILANCE!).

The other big development is that Ragnarson, who belongs to the Homo Noturinlus branch of the species, has been spending nights in his own bed. This is not so much a change in his nighttime habits, but in mine. Instead of just pulling him up into the "big bed" (never has a Queensized bed felt so small as when it has two adults, a toddler made entirely of elbows and a nursing baby in it) I have been getting up and taking him to the bathroom (I want to NOT pee in the POTTTEEEEEEEEE *sob sob*) and laying back down with him in his bed....until Ragnarbaby wakes up of course and then I have to move back to the big bed. Musical beds doesn't sound that restful, but it turns out that between me tossing and turning with insomnia, and Ragnarson elbowing him, Ragarbaby was waking up much more often...and when you're four months old, being awake means wanting to eat. The end result of this midnight hour bed swapping is that last night, for the first time in I have no idea HOW long, I got more than five hours of sleep. I literally feel a little bit drunk...

I'm hoping that the next big milestone will be the end (I would settle for diminishment really) of ridiculous temper tantrums (I want NOT that SPOON!) and ceaseless whining...a mother can hope, right?

Ragnar...you mean beds are for sleeping? huh.

New baby love...

2010-02-09T11:20:00.003-05:00

Chubby fingers, soft body snuggles, first smiles...and an apparently endless supply of partially digested milk. A few weeks ago I threatened to post pictures of Ragnarbaby's continuous fountain of yuck, but I find that when I'm covered in sour cottage cheese, my first inclination is not, inexplicably, to reach for the camera...I know. Weird huh? I did finally move the photos from the camera to the computer this morning and I found one which I had forgotten about.

I should mention that while I was typing that paragraph Ragnarbaby, who is propped up on my shoulder watching his older brother destroy my livingroom has urped on me no less than three times. Even Ragnarson noticed and started chanting "Don't spit on my mommy! Don't spit on my Mommy!" If he weren't gaining so much weight I'd worry that he had some sort of reflux or something, but most of it (though I can't imagine how) is apparently staying in his stomach. We always joked that Ragnarson was a frat boy because of his tendency to drink until he puked and passed out, but based on pure projectile persistence Ragnarbaby is going to be the President of his house.

When Ragnarbaby was a few weeks old Manimal asked "When is he going to get fun?" This was a question we didn't have the leisure to pose when Ragnarson was a newborn because we were too busy keeping him in constant motion lest he notice that he was unattended and commence to caterwauling. We estimated the "fun" stage to begin somewhere between 8 and 12 weeks...which is when he started grinning at us, and does it ever get more fun than that? Now that the fun threshold has been reached the only question in our minds is: "When is he going to stop puking on everything."

And he's just so smug about it...

Ragnar...off to change her shirt for the third time in four hours.

Alternative reality....

2010-02-03T15:05:00.003-05:00

My poor second born gets lost in the shuffle around here. He's just such a mellow, unflappable young human. If we could hear what he was thinking I think it would go something like this: "Oh? Food? Why thank you, I was a bit hungry...and now I'm tired. Thanks for the sna...zzzzzz. Hey I'm in my swing, how did I get here? I was just dreaming that I was drinking some delicious milk. Look, there's my family, going about their business, I'll just wave my arms around for awhile and coo. Hmmm...that's enough of that....Mother? Mother? Do you think you could stop for a bit so I could have some tasty food? Oh, and by the way, I've soiled myself."

So in an effort to give him some of his due, here's a post from an alternative reality where Ragnarbaby was my first, and therefore most gushed over, child.

(fade in)

Woke up feeling refreshed and rested this morning. Ragnarbaby only woke up twice last night, and I actually left him sleeping in bed while I went and took a leisurely shower. I couldn't decide what to make for breakfast, but since the baby decided to take his morning nap a little early today I decided to make crepes with creamed strawberry filling...from scratch of course. After I'd finished cooking and had a generous second helping (love breastfeeding!) he still wasn't awake so I cleaned the kitchen, including scrubbing the tile grout and defrosting the freezer.

Then he woke up for his mid-morning nosh, and while he was nursing I read an improving book while crocheting a baby blanket with my toes. When he was done eating we played on the floor for a little while, some tummy time followed by gazing lovingly into each others eyes...then he was hungry again. After he filled up I put him in his carrier and took a long walk. He was still asleep when we got home so I decided to make bread, and dinner for the next three days. Then I still had some time left before he woke up to nurse again, so I saved the world.

(fade out)

Okay...not really, but for the first three months of Ragnarson's life we lived on take-out, because the idea of cooking something was completely unapproachable...I would have had to do it while simultaneously nursing the baby, since if he was awake, he was eating and he only slept for twenty minutes at a time. I feel like the amount of things I'm able to "get done" in a day, considering that I have a three month old, is freaking amazing. Which is not to say that my house is clean or anything, but I am managing to do about two loads of laundry a day, feed my family at least two meals a day (one of which is sure to be leftovers...but still), and occasionally leave the house in search of groceries. CRAZY.

As a fellow mother of two told me the other day "the thing about having a crazy first born is that there's really no risk with the second. You'll either be pleasantly surprised or you'll know exactly what you're in for."

Ragnar...dealing with it.

Going Rogue....

2010-01-30T09:17:00.002-05:00

I've been a fan of the Rogue sweater for awhile now. It is in first contention for my next "for me" sweater.

I mentioned the other day that nothing cheers me up quite like a fabulous new knitting project...and I've decided it's Rogue or nothing. I even have the yarn...using up stash is sort of like not starting something new...right? The only problem is that I don't have the pattern.

I made a deal with myself that I would only buy patterns with the money that I made selling patterns, and since the only pattern I currently have available is the Golden Harvest Skull chart...which is a whopping $1.50 on Ravelry...I don't get to spend a lot of money on patterns.

But maybe some of you are Golden Harvest fans and want to knit some funky skully wear featuring the logo of our venerable breakfast establishment? If I sell five charts then I can download the Rogue pattern and I'll be halfway to my dream sweater....

Ragnar...what is the internet for, if not shameless self promotion and begging?

The healing power of....

2010-01-27T12:06:00.004-05:00

Yesterday was not a wonderful day. Several incidents in the morning, a fight that wasn't a fight with Manimal and the flooding of the bathroom floor...which was entirely my fault and therefore doubly irritating, conspired to put me in a foul mood for the rest of th day.

A slight digression: a note for the partners of postpartum, sleep deprived, nursing (and therefore weirdly hormonal) women. You never know when there is a hidden subtext so it is best to fake an interest in everything that comes out of your partners mouth. Here is an example:

"We are out of milk."

With a "normal" person this would be a simple declarative statement, with the slight possibility of a passive aggressive "so you should get some while you're out." With the PPSDN (see above) this could mean ANYTHING, here are just a few possibilities:

"Milk is full of unnatural and dangerous chemicals, I am poisoning my precious babies by even allowing it in the house."

"I am going to have to go to the store to buy more milk, do you have ANY idea how long it takes to go shopping with a baby and a toddler?"

"You should volunteer to clean the refrigerator. If you really cared I wouldn't have to ask."

"I am covered in spit up, haven't brushed my hair in three days, smell like dirty diapers and have been wearing the same pair of sweat pants for as long as I can remember so you had better tell me that I am beautiful RIGHT NOW or I will start crying."

The best response to anything said by a PPSDN is: "You are right, you are wonderful, and I am lucky to have such a beautiful, smart, and compassionate mother for my children." This may not make any contextual sense, but it will distract her long enough for you to change the subject to something less dangerous. The attention span of a PPSDN is approximately 32 seconds. You can also wave something made of or covered in chocolate under her nose.

Digression over, that wasn't even what I planned on writing when I sat down.

What I wanted to share is that during my crabby day the thought that kept reoccurring was: "I need a wonderful new knitting project to distract me from how grouchy I am."

Does that mean that I am a knit-a-holic? Do I need to go to some sort of 12 step meeting where they will teach me to control my knitting urges? Or does it mean that yarn has amazing healing powers?

Ragnar...totally rational and completely in control.

Ragnarson blogs....

2010-01-26T10:01:00.003-05:00

Guest post today...Ode to a dumptruck, as transcribed by Ragnarson's Mommy....

Dirt dirt dirty dirt, I'm going to dump it right out. *beep beep beep* There's dirt in this dumptruck, there's garbage in this dumptruck and it dumps it out. Poong. It dumped it out. Look there's garbage, whoa this is the right place. Right in the right place, poong. I'm carrying these to the there,

(crash)

Poong. They are right there. Where's the dumptruck? There it is. Monk-da-da-bunk-da-snap. Snap crocodile snap anybody, and he go in the dump truck, dump dump, bung bung, da bung. And the dumptruck scoops it out and it dumps it out, and it likes to go in there and he gorrrrged!!! Dump all the gook, a-gadoog, all da gook, all da gook all the gooog all a bit. And here in the dumptruck. Want all the goobie geek. SNAP! All the goo. SNAP! All up. Don't let go of my turtle, hang on to my turtle. SNAP! Push. Mommy's going too. Poppy's going too. All the goo, the garbage. He's out of his, his, his...I'll dump ALL of them.

(crash, crash, whack whack whack whack)

Ragnarson....I got ALL the GOOOK!

Dinner....again? Didn't we have dinner yesterday?

2010-01-24T10:48:00.004-05:00

What is the average number of items on a restaurant menu? 15? 20? 50? I don't know why it is that when I eat out I order the same thing over and over again, but I feel compulsive about making sure my family doesn't get "bored" with the meals I cook them. As if anyone could get bored with good home-cookin', I mean seriously.

I am, at heart, a disorganized person...a disorganized person who wants to change! How I long for tidy counter tops, and neat organized schedules...how I know that this is never going to happen. I aspire to be one of those people who always has ingredients on hand, and isn't sending her kids out to buy milk from the convenience store half-way through mixing up a batch of pancakes. I picture myself happily making up menus from my decoupaged folder of tried and true recipes, forgetting that I don't decoupage, or use recipes, or in fact cook anything that requires more than one pot.

My version of menu planning is a combination of looking to see what is going bad in the refrigerator, and what we are over stocked on in the pantry, and then filling in the gaps by creating a shopping list on which I will probably forget to include several key ingredients like "onions" or "potatoes." I write what I'm planning on cooking on the right side of the shopping list, and a list of what we are out of on the left side, hoping that having my "menu" in front of me will trigger a sudden "ah-ha! If we are going to eat chicken quesadillas, I better get some chicken" moment before I'm checked out and on my way home. Then when I get home the shopping list goes on the fridge and at 5:30 when I realize I had better either make dinner or call the pizza guys I look at "menu" to see what I should be cooking. When all the meals are crossed off I have to make a new list. This sort of works. When I remember to do it.

So the "menu" for the next two weeks looks like this (yes there are only 8 things here, I make them eat leftovers! I know, cruel and unusual no?):

Tuna Melts

Tofu Pot Pie (my family's hands-down favorite food, and just about the only thing I make that requires multiple pots)

Greens and Coconut Milk (which will take on either an asian or indian flavor depending on my mood at the moment of conception)

Cauliflower Mac & Cheese

TVP Chili

Peanut Noodles

Chicken Soup

Fried Rice

Which is just about what my menu always looks like. Sauce on Noodles, Stew/Sauce on Rice/Grains, Things sandwiched in bread/tortillas and toasted. YAWN.

So...what is your "fall back" recipe? What do you cook over and over again because they'll always eat it, and it still tastes good after the 300th time? Lately I think my "oh hell, it's way past when I should have started making dinner" fall back is fried rice. It's as quick as stir fry, but keeps better for reheating and has the added bonus that Ragnarson will actually occasionally eat some of it.

Ragnar...I love my rice cooker.

Knitting? No really, I do that sometimes...

2010-01-18T12:15:00.002-05:00

I am trying to whittle away at a few of the more doable items on my list of good intentions for 2010. Today's project is getting the knitting projects in order with a view towards (drum roll, trumpets, choir of angels) BECOMING A MONOGAMOUS KNITTER. Seriously. I so admire people who know how many needles they own, because other than the set that is in their current project they are all resting neatly in their needle case. I am not one of those people. I recently found out that I own three identical size 8, 24" circular needles. I was actually about to buy another set when I thought to myself "waaaaaait a minute, this seems really familiar."

I knit a lot. Not nearly as much as I used to, but if there is a minute of time when I am not holding a baby, folding laundry or cooking something, I am probably knitting. And I knit pretty fast. Not Greek fast (only Woven Art regulars will know what I mean by that) but fast enough that I should be able to finish a few things now and then. But when you knit for 20 minutes at a time on 20 different projects all that "progress" is spread so thin that finishing something is a miraculous once in a blue moon experience. I actually start smaller projects so that I can finish something because the larger projects are taking too long...and I'm sure you can all tell where that is going.

I won't bother to list my "currents" here since I don't have pictures taken of them, and descriptions of half finished knitwear is...yeah. Dull. That's a future post.

Rather I want to point you towards the biggest offender in my "enabling" bookmarks collection. Is it Ravelry? where you can see thousands, nay millions of projects by other knitters to covet and inspire? No. Is it Knitty, or Twist? Those lovely on-line knit magazines full of great advice and fabulous free or affordable patterns? No. It is a relatively boring, unpretentious little site that enables you to create actual size graph paper based on your swatches. This is like crack to me. I am a color-a-holic. I love charting out little thingies (okay, skulls) to incorporate into future knitwear, and once I have the chart, then I REALLY REALLY want to see how it knits up.

So...what are you waiting for? Swatch and play! Aside from being invaluable when you want to, say, knit skull and crossbones into your kid's underwear, actual size graph paper is also very useful for figuring out decreases, on a sleeve for instance, when you don't want to do any math.

Ragnar...with skulls on it?

So here's the thing...

2010-01-16T16:44:00.003-05:00

(this picture has nothing to do with anything, it's just a cute picture)

I am sitting in my "nursing chair" with the obligatory boppy pillow (how did women breastfeed before boppy? I scoffed at them while I was pregnant with Ragnarson the Elder and after about two days of building unstable piles of pillows I demanded that Manimal go forth and aquire "one of those nursing pillow things that I said were so stupid"). Ragnarbaby is propped up on one arm, spitting up all over my shirt sleeve repeatedly (I'll wait until he's empty and change, no point in washing TWO shirts when I could just let him soil this one more throughly). Ragnarson the Elder is working on spreading his toys throughout the house even more throughly, pausing now and then to repeatedly punch the buttons on the noisy toys. This makes a sort of crash-crash-rattle-BLAST OFF-BLAST OFF-crash-thunk-rattle-HEYAH! WATCHA-crash white noise which is basically the background music of my life. He likes to mix it up a bit by throwing spectacular tempertantrums every 20 minutes or so.

This is primarily what I do all day. It does not make particularly engaging blog-fodder.

I thought about photographing Ragnarbaby's spit-up blobs and crafting a funny post about divining the future through baby vomit...but realized that unless you spend all day covered in it, you might find looking at photos of baby vomit...well, yucky.

I thought about posting all of the stuff that Ragnarson says to me on a daily basis, but realized that a long list of basically boring quotes was probably only amusing to me, and possibly Ragnarson's Grandparents.

I thought about pretending that I'm still an artist and posting pictures of the new studio, but then realized that a picture of a pile of still-packed boxes was about as interesting as...see? I can't think of something that it's less interesting than.

I could catalog my small victories: "Left the house this morning!" "Made coffee before the baby started screaming." "Got the dishwasher unloaded within 24 hours" but realized that after a few of those my life would start to sound REALLY pathetic.

I'm not unhappy to be staying home with my kids...in fact I feel tremendously blessed. The "fun" parts of parenting, get pretty repetative and schmultzy after a few retellings though, all those little moments staring at your kids...the, holy crap, HUMAN BEINGS, that you MADE with your own body (and how crazy is that?), and the little miracles as they figure out all the skills that will make them into grown-ups one day...which I still don't believe by the way. And blogging about the unfun, and therefore potentially funny parts of parenting, the messes, the screaming, the unending bodily fluids, just sounds so whiny after awhile.

So what's a mother of two supposed to do with this little corner of cyberspace that she's carved out for herself? I have no idea. I'll still try to figure it out, of course, but the fact is that I write this thing for both of us, for me, and for you. What are you looking for when you stop by the old "DP?" Inspiration? Instruction? Entertainment? What level of baby vomit can you stomach? How many times can I use the word "miracle" before you permanently remove me from your bloglines feed? More knitting? More cute baby pictures? Help me figure this out, oh you, the audience.

Ragnar...has a sleeping baby on her lap. AWwwww.

Like a steel trap.

2010-01-13T17:52:00.002-05:00

Back when Ragnarson the First was a bitty baby I posted something about all the subliminal messages he was absorbing on account of the fact that his mother favored Irish Drinking songs over more traditional "rock-a-bye" lullabies. Happily he still thinks that "Moonshine" refers to the moon in the sky, and not the white lighting, but he does have a tendancy to babble "tooraloolalay." There was also that incident when he chased our former roommate around yelling "watch him DIE! watch him DIE!" She was decidedly freaked out until I explained that he was singing Johnny Cash.

The things that really seem to stick with him though, are phrases from storybooks. Since I'm the one usually reading the books, I can mostly identify the source, but for other people it seems that he randomly spouts very articulate, but completely nonsensical phrases. Where the Wild Things Are is the source of several favorites. He has adopted Ash's basket as a boat and insists that he is sailing away in his wolf suit. We are also big fans of Skippyjon Jones, which causes him to stop and yell suddenly "I am a Chihuahua!!!"

I think the oddest is from a "Five Little Monkeys" book, wherein the Monkey sibs are teasing a crocodile. At the end their mother tells them "Never tease a crocodile, it's not nice, and it's dangerous."

Now whenever Ragnarson has reason to use the phrase "It's not nice!" he follows it up with "and it DANGEROUS." This makes living with him seem very perilous. Putting his toys away? IT'S DANGEROUS! Taking him out of the bath before he's done? IT'S DANGEROUS!

Ragnar...always tells her babies not to play with guns.

Something new...

2010-01-12T16:41:00.006-05:00

Astute readers probably picked up on the fact that there's a new crew member on the good ship Ragnar. Admittedly it's a little confusing, especially when I refer to them as Ragnarsons Older and Younger, since they look exactly a like. Apparently Manimal's and my genes only combine in one way. New baby wears all of Ragnarson's hand-me-downs, as well, and both of his parents have had to ask if a certain baby picture is of the former or the later. Mostly we are able to tell them apart because one of them is running around, screaming at the top of his lungs, causing as much mayhem as possible, and the other is quietly nursing, sleeping or (when he's feeling really wild) eliminating. My sons could not possibly have more different temperments.

For the first month of his life, Ragnarson the Newest could be seen hanging out in this basket, usually on the kitchen counter, mostly sleeping. This terrified me at first. After raising Ragnarson, I felt that "Sleeping like a Baby" was some sort of cruel and ironic joke, thought up by the same people who wrote things like "many babies are soothed by rides in the car." Turns out, though, that some small humans are able to maintain a restful state for hours at a time, and I am thankful daily that mine is one of them.

Ragnarbaby is so chill in fact that I find myself "losing" him and having moments of intense panic when I can't remember where I left him. The answer so far has been "upstairs in bed," "in his swing," "with his sister," and once, notably "in my arms." Hopefully it will never be "at the library," or "at the checkout counter at the grocery store."

Ragnar...mother of two (sometimes three)

PS Is anyone else not surprised that blogger works for crap with chrome? Specifically the photo editing part of blogger....sheesh.

And then there was 2010.

2010-01-09T21:06:00.004-05:00

For some reason I have more faith in odd numbered years. I don't know much about numerology, so feel free to enlighten me but I feel like the best years are the prime numbered years, maybe because there's such a limited number of them. 2010 just seems WAY too factorable to me. So I'm not placing too much stock in it as a banner year for...anything. I mean, aside from the fact that it'll be the first year of life for Ragnarson the Younger, and that is just plain miraculous whichever why you slice it.

Anyway, in anticipation of a highly mediocre year, I give you: Ragnar's best intentions for 2010...with some repeats from 2009, which will probably bleed over into 2011 (and that is going to be a good year my friends! a prime, and containing one of my favorite numbers 11 which is half of the lucky number 22).

1. Remember that your children are CHILDREN, cut them some slack, woman.

2. Organize the crafting supplies so that they are no longer in danger of swallowing the house. Just because it's a horizontal surface that doesn't give me a license to pile yarn upon it.

3. Follow Michael Pallon's simple rule about eating: Eat Food, Not too Much, Mostly Plants. I will be concentrating a lot on that middle one: not too much!

4. Do as much shopping as possible at the Lansing City Market, which is a walkable 2.5 miles from my house.

5. Write Petoh's birth story.

6. Write Ash's birthstory.

7. Work in the studio.

8. Keep track of knitting and sewing projects, with an eye towards finishing things and not starting new projects until others are finished.

9. Strength train.

10. Finish the Red/Orange spinning project.

11. Eat locally...Michigan is my local and doesn't that make me lucky.

12. Make To Do Lists. Somehow I seem to get a lot more done when I can put an efficient little check mark next to something.

13. Take the kids to plays or concerts, or cultural somethings or other.

14. Work with Abby, Katie and Brian on the knitted stuff into clay project.

15. Also the quilt blocks into tiles project.

16. Landscape the yard...at least plant some grass or something.

17. Write an artist's statement and resume.

18. Get the Viking Hat Pattern edited and ready for distribution on Ravelry.

19. Make soap.

20. Teach a class.

21. Take a class.

22. Find out about selling things at the farmer's market.

23. Make a chore schedule.

24. Go camping.

27. Make clothes for the kids.

28. Make or acquire some dress up clothes (the imaginative kind, not the formal wear kind) for Pete.

29. Get involved with some of the amazing stuff Lansing has to offer.

31. Bind books.

32. Edit the toy collection with an eye towards imaginative play, and less banging.

33. Keep up with laundry, both mine and the boys.

34. Alternatively transport. Walk, Bike, Bus and only as a last resort Minivan.

35. Become a babe. This is my amusing way of saying "get in shape." Somehow it's more motivating to say that I worked on becoming a babe, than that I remembered to exercise.

36. Get rid of clothes I don't wear.

38. Etsy store...everything, banner, name inventory. Sheesh.

39. Go to spinning guild meetings. This means babysitters.

40. Preserve food. I am looking for a dehydrator if anyone has one gathering dust in their closet.

41. Reupholster the dining room chairs.

42. Weave.

44. Trillium Gallery...Kalle will sell my stuff, if I get her stuff, so I have no excuses.

45. Get something ready for entry into Art Prize

46. Plan crafts to do with Ragnarson, Play-doh, watercolor, etc.

47. Make an effort to get out of the house.

49. Be deliberate about acquiring new things, clothes especially. I would like to stop supporting a disposable culture.

50. Edit the photos on Flickr, there is a lot of crap that can just be deleted and a lot of new photos that haven't been uploaded.

52. Get better at taking photos of my work, process, completed objects. The whole sheebang. Exploit Kat's generous offer of help.

53. Tackle the toy storage problem. This will probably require making or buying some sort of shelf system.

54. Make a cover for the duvet so that it doesn't get all funky like our last...several.

55. Grow some houseplants. We need more oxygen in here.

56. Post projects on Ravelry, Craftster and Instructables. A curved piecing tutorial would probably be a good place to start.

57. Enroll Ragnarson in some sort of active class or activity like swimming or gymnastics.

58. Eat less sugary crap. Quality Dairy donuts, I'm looking at you.

59. Experiment with new grains in cooking. Rice, I like you, but you are starting to get boring.

60. Read longer, more complicated stories to Ragnarson.

61. Defeat clutter.

62. Sew curtains for the house.

63. Hike a half marathon.

64. Be more active in seeking "finishing" work (I sew people's sweaters together for them) and more timely about returning the work that I take on.

65. Use the Postal Service for more than paying bills. Doesn't everyone love to get mail? Send birthday cards.

66. Salad, it tastes good. Eat more of it.

67. Dye.

68. Refresh my knowledge of accounting. I think keeping a ledger for home and for Manimal's business would go a long way towards sorting out our money problems.

69. Brush. Floss. Seriously.

70. Barter with my artist friends. I'd like to have more work on my walls by the people I love.

71. Use an apron.

72. Invite people over for dinner. I'm specifically thinking of other couples with children, since I'd like Manimal to get to know the parents of some of Ragnarson's friends.

73. Make a "kitchen inventory" shopping list. What do we like to have on hand. What are we out of? Where do we buy it? I think this will cut down on impulse buying.

74. Make "parents night out" a priority.

75. Schedule some "unschooling" time with Ragnarson.

76. Work on self promotion.

77. Make a realistic and complete household budget.

78. Stick to the budget. This is going to require some help from Manimal, but I think he's on board.

79. Make time to "play" with Rat Girl. I spend too much time utilizing the "free babysitter" aspect of living with a 12 year old, and not enough on "having fun."

80. Sew clothes for myself. I have some nice wool that wants to become a skirt, I'll start there.

81. Write a children's story.

82. Sketch.

83. Find a place to garden. I am getting very frustrated with the community garden, because the poaching is out of control.

84. Stencil something.

85. Gaze adoringly at my babies.

86. Build a wood oven in the backyard.

87. Drink wine.

88. Have a girls' night out.

89. Start to rebuild the book collection. It was decimated during the remodel.

90. Go to the dentist for a cleaning.

91. Start or join a knitting group.

92. Make a quilt for one of the beds in the house, maybe Ragnarson's so we can have our quilt back.

94. Go to the beach.

95. Etch some glassware.

96. Knit from stash. Documenting stash on Ravelry should help with this.

97. Set up a mail program such as outlook, so that my website email actually gets checked.

98. Limit brain rotting activities, such as watching television on the computer and reading crappy novels.

99. Find some new things to cook, middle eastern maybe?

100. Make ice cream.

2009 wrap up...

2010-01-09T15:11:00.005-05:00

Let us make no mention of the fact that I have not posted here in almost five months.

Right.

Instead I want to revisit the list of unresolved good intentions that I posted last year around this time. This will be interesting, since I haven't read it since I wrote it over a year ago...

1. Smile at people, and make eye contact. Hmmm....I think I meant in the general sense of when you meet someone on the street. I can't really evaluate this myself,*** three stars on this one.2. Participate. Again, in the general sense of getting involved in the community. This year I participated in the community garden project, the Hunter Park Gardrenhouse, the Old Town Artist's Underground, and the creation of a human being. Actually not that much stuff considering what Lansing has to offer. **
3. Become a monogamous knitter. I could rationalize, describing each new project that I started before finishing the last one, but honesty requires that I admit to EPIC FAILURE on this one. No Stars!
4. Grow food instead of plants. I didn't grow much, but I did grow onions, cabbage and beans in the community garden and kale, turnips, brocolli and other tasty greens in the garden house so **** four stars.

5. Take myself seriously. I think I meant artistically. Thinking back over the year I didn't start any new projects so big fail on this one too.6. Work in the studio at least once a week, even if that means going in for an hour and puttering around, accomplishing nothing. Before Ragnarson the Younger was born I did pretty well at this, although I didn't work on anything artistic, I did work. *** three stars
7. Organize. There was a window of about thirty seconds when I felt that I had my studio pretty well organized, but that didn't last through the latest move. My house is definitely not organized. * one star
8. Get better at making things out of wood. big fail on this one.
9. Take a class in something. I think I took Melissa Leapman's design class this year, so ***** FIVE STARS!10. Spin I used my time at the Old Town Underground for spinning, and made good headway on the red/orange five ply that has been following me around. I also experimented with Navajo Plying, so I'm giving myself ***** FIVE STARS on this one as well, even though there weren't many HOURS of spinning involved.
11. Reupholster the "dining room" chairs. FAIL
12. Publish at least 4 new knitting designs. FAIL
13. Submit at least 1 design for publication. FAIL
14. Do not allow the new house to fill up with junk. Although Manimal will perhaps disagree, I think we've done pretty well on this one. The junk we already had isn't very organized, due to lack of closet hardware (shelves, rods etc.) but we haven't acquired that much NEW junk. **** Four stars.
15. Build 2x4 shelves for the studio. FAIL
16. Keep the Etsy store up to date. FAIL17. Knit a sweater for myself. FIVE STARS. I finally finished the free wool sweater and I wear it literally everyday. *****
18. Build a light box to facilitate the taking of better pictures of artwork and crafts. FAIL
19. Get excited about things. I think this was commentary on my habit of not getting emotionally involved in things due to the potential for disappointment. Having kids pretty much cures you of not being emotionally involved, so yes. *** three stars
20. Sew curtains. FAIL
21. Read something by Jane Austen. I read Pride and Prejudice, and quite liked it. I can see why her books translate so well into movies, because she writes A LOT of dialog. I also read Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights (neither by Austen)

*****FIVE STARS
22. Post a project on Instructables. FAIL
23. Stop using Ragnarson as an excuse for why I can't get anything done. No, now I use both children equally. FAIL
24. Make a chore schedule. FAIL
25. Economize. We did do a lot of work making budgets this year, and also got into the habit of saving our receipts. We haven't solved our financial woes by a long shot, but we've made a start on finding out what the problem areas are. ***three stars.
26. Visit someone in a far away place. The marathon of matrimony means I get *****FIVE STARS for this one.
27. Eat less pork. HA. Big fail on this one. I bought half a pig from a local

farmer, and our financial stress means that we've been heavily relying on the deep freeze for protein. We've been eating A LOT of pig lately. But it's local, sustainable pig, so...so nothing, still a big FAIL.
28. Eat more lamb and goat. We did eat more lamb this year, and I sourced some local places for goat, but basically we couldn't afford it. * one star
29. Brush and Floss. I definitely did this more than year before last, but my dental hygiene is still sadly lacking. *one star
30. Build a wood oven in the backyard. FAIL
31. Whittle. FAIL
32. Make a dressform. FAIL
33. Send postcards to people instead of emailing them when I'm just writing to say "hi." FAIL
34. Stop eating candy at work. FAIL, but come on, I wasn't pregnant when I

wrote this list.
35. Use my datebook. Totally fell of the datebook wagon about four months in to the year. I have realized I am not a datebook person, although I love them, and I really want to be.
36. Do laundry before I completely run out of clothes. FAIL
37. Make some artist trading cards. FAIL
38. Go to the dentist. FAIL
39. Compost. I did set up a vermiculture bin in our kitchen. I don't have a lot of worms though, so I only feed them about once a month. They seem to be happy and thriving though. ** two stars
40. Read less crappy chic-lit. I upgraded to LESS crappy chic lit... ** two stars
41. Sing. FIVE STARS Pete has weened, but requires about 20 minutes of singing

to go to sleep, twice a day. *****
42. Socialize. Coffee club yes, other people, not so much. ** two stars
43. Use up yarn. I did knit some charity hats but I acquired the bad habit of buying sweaters at yardsales and unraveling them so I'm definitely UP on yarn.
44. Sew clothes that I will wear. FAIL, although I made Pete lots of cute pants.
45. Send birthday cards. FAIL
46. Buy music. FAIL
47. Write a story. FAIL
48. Recycle Eh, half a star, I didn't NOT recycle, but I didn't make a big effort either.
49. Ride my bike Didn't count on getting pregnant, but I did get a couple months in before getting too round. * one star
50. Do not knit things that are not on "the list." FAIL
51. Make something out of clay. FAIL52. Wear color. If by color you mean "maternity clothes" then yes, I wore color. ** two stars.
53. Enter at least one quilt show. FAIL
54. Be a better friend. Another rather nebulous one. I did deepen my friendships with a couple of my "mommy" friends so I think I can claim *** three stars on this one.
55. Do not delay making phone calls. FAIL
56. Use Ravelry as a tool, not a distraction. I didn't "ravel" much this year, and I did have about $15 worth of pattern sales, so *** three stars.
57. Take Rat Girl to a play. FAIL
58. Go to Wednesday night knitting group...once in awhile. How about once? * one star
59. Follow through. If this refers to finishing things that I started then * one star
60. Bake bread. For quite awhile I baked a lot of bread, then I got round, then I

got a newborn, and bread has not been made in quite awhile. ** two stars
61. Design my next tattoo. I have to decide on my next tattoo, because the one that I know I want can't be finished until I'm done having children, as it's a representation of our family. FAIL
62. Work in the Gardenhouse, at least once a month. For awhile I was pretty good about this, now that they've changed the program I haven't been so involved. ** two stars
63. Keep a better record of knitting projects. FAIL
64. Eat at home. We fell off the wagon for a bit there right before and right after Ragnarson the Younger was born, but really, how could we not have. I think we've done a pretty good job of this. Having the CSA produce in the fridge helps a lot. **** four stars.65. Strength train. HA, big FAIL. Unless you count carrying a newborn around.
66. Work on the yard. Ragnarson and I had a pretty good game of piling up sticks in the back yard, which actually resulted in a net improvement, also I gathered many walnuts for dye. * one star
67. Earn money. Pretty close to a FAIL, but half a star for effort.
68. Be less judgemental. Maybe it's the hormones but I feel like I've done pretty well by this, *** three stars.
69. Work with K and B on quilt tile designs. FAIL
70. Plan meals in advance. I did this for a couple of months and it seemed to make a big difference * one star
71. Take vitamins. I'm much better than I have been in the past ** two stars72. Cut back on caffeine. All over on this one, cut back completely, then let it creep back, then cut off again around Ragnarson the Youngers due date, and then decided that since they want me to take blood pressure meds anyway that there was no point in not indulging. I am pretty far off the wagon. I see the wagon disappearing over a distant hill. FAIL
73. Make deliberate decorating decisions on the house. **** Four stars
74. Replace plastic food storage containers. FAIL
75. Preserve food for winter. Considering that my garden wasn't that productive, I did pretty well by this. One whole shelf of the pantry (which has HUGE shelves for a pantry) was filled with pizza sauce, jam, apple sauce and apple butter, tomato sauce and diced tomatoes. Pretty good considering how pregnant I was during canning season. ***** FIVE STARS76. Get fresh air. We wore out a jogging stroller, admittedly it was a cheap crappy jogging stroller, but that's pretty good. *** three stars.
77. Make soap. FAIL
78. Go to art shows. I think I was referring to gallery shows. I went to a few at Woven Art, but that's sort of inevitable when you work someplace. Over all FAIL
79. Subscribe to a magazine. FAIL
80. Cultivate patience. FAIL, I really need to work on this one. I have a hard time not taking Ragnarson's Two Year old, New Sibling Jealousy antics personally.
81. Make halloween costumes for the family. FAIL
82. Buy in bulk. If you count half a pig as bulk, then yes. *** three stars
83. Teach a quilting class. FAIL84. Tell people that I love them. Hmmm...have I told you that I loved you lately? I tell my family that I love them, but I haven't broken through the nuclear ring to the outside world. * one star
85. Approach local galleries about showing my work. FAIL
86. Don't worry about what other people think. When you walk around either leaking breastmilk, or covered in spit up and toddler goo...or all three! it's not really possible to worry about what other people think. *** three stars
87. Use reuseable shopping bags. We have a lot of reuseable shopping bags and they do get used, just not everytime. *** three stars
88. Explore "found objects" in my quilts. May have mentioned: no quilting at all this year. FAIL
89. Repaint Ragnarson's blocks. Got rid of them instead, FAIL.90. Reject guilt. Not possible, goes with mothering I think. FAIL
91. Sew fabric produce bags. FAIL
92. Sketch. FAIL
93. Ask for help. Rather nebulous. I asked a lot of help from poor Rat Girl, and I am encouraging Ragnarson to help with things like picking up his toys and loading the washing machine. * one star
94. Invite people over. We have had a few people over since moving back into the "new" house. ** two stars.
95. Read a non-fiction book. I read a few. I read "Animal Vegitable Miracle" by Barbara Kingsolver, a good read that validates everything I alreay believe about eating locally. I also read "How to Pick a Peach." which is another good food

industry myth buster.
96. Go camping. Again I say, I wasn't pregnant when I wrote this list. FAIL

97. Sew in the third dimension. I did make a few geometric pillows for Ragnarson and gifts for friends, but that's not what I had in mind when I wrote this. * one star

98. Swim in one of the great lakes. FAIL. We did get out to a Lake Michigan Beach, but it was in November, and there was NO swimming from me.
99. Forage. I did look for some mushrooms and I was all set to try milkweed pods, but somehow missed the optimum harvest. I foraged blackberries, but that's about it.
100. Listen to myself. Listen to this, self: make your "resolutions" for 2010 more concrete and achievable. * one star.

Okay, so quick tally: FAIL 51. Which indicates some level of success on the other 49. Considering that the major thing I did last year, and am still doing, is build a human being and that wasn't on the list I'm going to count an almost 50% semi-success rate as pretty darn good.

Oh, and here's a cute picture of my baby:

And, no, I didn't just paste up an old picture of Ragnarson, they just look EXACTLY the same...aside from the new version is brown haired and blue eyed.

Ragnar...hey! I blogged, how about that.

Summer weddings and looooooong road trips.

2009-08-25T18:04:00.009-04:00

My brain isn't firing all of it's little fiery things...synapses? Whatever...so rather than some of those 9th grade English class paragraphs with a topic sentence, some exposition and a nice summary sentence at the end, I give you: a list.

Item 1. People like to get married in the summer. Is this because we have lots of pagan friends who don't like to sanction their love within the site of some bearded old guy who lives in a house full of stained glass windows? Who knows, but we drove 12 hours each way to attend a wedding in Tennessee last weekend and we'll be driving for 4 days (2 there, 2 back) to attend another wedding in Massachusetts this weekend.

B. Manimal and I experienced a moment of truth when we looked into the back seat and saw this: We are parents...driving a minivan with kids in the backseat. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?

3). With the exception of some youtube vids of baby animals and disconnected minutes of random children's programming at friend's houses, Pete has been a TeeVee free baby until this trip when I borrowed a DVD player to bridge the many hours of boring, strapped in riding. It took him 1/2 an episode of Elmo's World before he mastered the phrase "More TV please!"

* Roadtrips are good for knitting:

This sweater was featured on the cover of Mothering Magazine a few months back and I've been obsessed with it ever since, so when we got the book in at Woven Art I knew that I was obliged to knit one...plus I haven't actually knit anything for Soon-to-be yet, and that seemed inexcusable. It's almost done...one more seam and some buttons to sew on.

Eff: HOW THE HELL DID I GET SO PREGNANT? And how am I going to survive the next two and a half months? Ragnarson was an extremely aggressive little fetus, but I swear he wasn't this big. Soon-to-be seems to favor a more deliberate pushing and stretching motion as opposed to his kick boxing brother, and I can't decide if it's better, or worse. Sometimes I won't even realize that the uncomfortable sensation in my stomach is baby related until I look down and see the distinct shape of a noggin sticking out from under my rib cage.

Six: I forget what if anything I wrote about the "sewing nights" that I used to host in the years before I joined the breeders, but on the off chance that I mentioned him, I'd like you all to give a rousing congratulations to our old Totem Male, Yammer the Onner. He finally found a good woman to take him in hand and mold him into the man we all know he can be. Awwwww.

Yellow: Ragnarson has turned into a crazy talking fool. I know that it's unreasonable, since I have watched him grow from an inert lump of newborn into a crazy walking-talking-jumping down the stairs two year old (as of two weeks ago...), but every new thing still blows me away. Intellectually I realize that my infant son will someday be an actual Man (or Manimal rather, since he does take after his Papa), but conceptually I have yet to grasp that my son will grow up. A random selection of things that shock me: sentences like this one "Water, please, water big cup, that one please water," the increasing coordination and agility that lead to things like escaping from the gated off front porch, and climbing up on the counter, selecting and peeling a banana, and the fact that his favorite place is the library, and his favorite people, the librarians.

Ragnar...only 30 hours of driving between me and a normal life.

Guess whose got a new camera?

2009-07-23T21:00:00.003-04:00

That's right...me!

Ragnarson loves looking at pictures of himself, and he's chanting in the background "big kid! big kid!" since maybe you all missed the fact that he's all big and grown up.

But we have a serious blog problem, although there's still a few months to sort it out. According to my 1/2 way point ultrasound (which was a month and a half ago, where does the time go?) I can't go on calling baby (sorry, big kid) the first Ragnarson anymore, since in the beginning of November I'll be asking you all to welcome Ragnarson the second. There's nothing wrong of course with having numbered children, but it's just not for me.

So just what the heck are we going to call these little guys?

Ragnar...breeder of men.

Dear Ragnarson...

2009-05-05T20:44:00.002-04:00

Hey little man. You know I love you right? I just wanted to get that out there, since you might have over heard me say somethings that we both know I didn't really mean. I realize that you're becoming more cognizant, and so I've been making an effort to watch what I say around you...such as not referring to you as "a jerk." I just wanted you to know that I'm trying okay?

So you're getting a little older, and I feel like we can sit down and talk man to man about somethings that need changing, or mom to man, or whatever.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is...this no nap thing? It's killing me man. Nap time is my recharge time. Nap time is the time where I do crazy important things like unload the dishwasher and eat lunch. Nap time is mommy time, okay? So if you insist on not taking naps then some other stuff if going to have to change. Like spending all of your "awake" time velcroed to my leg? Yeah, that's got to go. And the constant whining when I can't immediately decipher what you want, it's getting old, so old. While we are on the subject, I'd like to mention that you might be better understood if you spoke in English instead of Japanese, because quite frankly, I don't speak Japanese.

I don't want this to seem imbalanced, or like I'm placing all the responsibility on you, so here's what I'll do for you. You can keep your "half" (by which I mean the middle 2/3rds) of the bed, as well as the use of the floor, every square inch of it, for your toy storage. I will continue to launder your clothes, at the rate of three outfits a day, and keep the cupboard supplied with a combination of healthy and not-so-healthy snacks (I wonder which one you'll eat). I will even change the batteries in your noisy, blinky sound and light extravaganza toy, which yes, I have been "forgetting" on purpose....see? I'm really trying to open up here and take responsibility for my...uh...imperfections. I will make myself available for half hour to hour long stretches of book reading, toy piling, and airplane riding, as well as continue to supply the go-go power for those leisurely stroller rides.

In exchange I ask only that you give me a two hour stretch in the afternoon where you sleep, or play quietly by yourself so that I don't go stark staring mad. That's it, just two hours once a day.

So how about it little man, do we have a deal?

I remain sincerely,

Ragnar...yo momma.

Fun with kitchen garbage...

2009-04-27T11:02:00.003-04:00

But first, I wanted to show you the hat that I knit from the really bright skein of yarn in the last post. I intended to post this the very next day, since that's when I knit it...honestly I think the yarn was still slightly damp. My first Navajo Ply...a little over spun, but look! Handspun stripes. How stinkin' cool is that?
And now! Fun with kitchen garbage. I have a few personality traits that Manimal finds incomprehensible, and sometimes downright irritating...there are more, but I repress them. He has no idea how much garbage I haven't hauled home off the side of the road...I was thinking for awhile about scavenging couch cushions from all the nasty old couches that get hauled out to the curb...the couch is awful, sure, but there's probably some good foam in that cushion. I come from a long line of garbage pickers.

Anyway, for the last year or so, I've been saving my onion skins in a mason jar, much to his confusion, to say the least. He even asked, in a tone of voice that some might have described as derisory, if I was planning on transporting this jar of garbage to the new house with me. Of course! That's valuable dye stuff.

A long time ago, one of my mother's friends told me that the key to dying with onion skins was to have "a lot" of them.
Turns out that one mason jar, so packed full that you literally can not fit one onion skin more, plus another overflow jar, when turned out into my largest "common use" stock pot (not the mega five gallon stock pot in other words), is A LOT of onion skins. This is probably a 3 gallon pot, and it's two thirds full of onion skins.
But, oh lordy, look at that color! I'm still sort of flabbergasted by the whole thing, and I'm sure that the man of my heart will be disappointed to learn that I am not only going to continue saving my onion skins...but now I'm on fire to experiment with all sorts of other things that usually go down the garbage disposal.

Here's the quick and dirty if you want to try it at home. Apparently no mordant is needed when dying with onions skins, so all you have to do is put your skins in the pot, simmer for an hour (don't boil, as that apparently can ruin the pigment), then strain out the skins, and add your yarn. Simmer for another hour and then leave over night. Voila!
For comparison I brought out the skein that I dyed with walnut husks. I thought that was amazing at the time, and I suppose it still is for something I picked up out of my backyard, but the onion skins definitely take the cake.
"What? Are you taking pictures of something? You must be confused, because I was standing behind you, and obviously there is only one thing worth taking pictures of around here. Silly momma."

Ragnar...getting in touch with her crunchy granola side.

Fibery Goodness...

2009-04-06T15:54:00.003-04:00

Long time readers might possibly remember the "free wool" sweater. This is a sweater that I have been working on, literally, for years. The history, briefly: "free wool" from a local mutton farmer, remarkably nice for "meat" wool, I picked the shit out of it myself before sending it to the mill to be washed and carded. This was early in my spinning career, so my only option for spinning it was on a drop spindle (which I made myself, not bragging, just mentioning it as part of the story of how attached I am to this baby). I am not a huge fan of two ply yarns, so I spun it as a three ply, which ended up being a sort of sport weight. I started spinning it into my fantasy sweater, that is, a cardigan, cabled, with a hood. It started out being Fiona Ellis's Celtic Icon, but I wasn't a huge fan of the cable on that sweater, so I substituted an Elspeth Lavold. Ran out of yarn half way through, and was rescued by a friend who happened to have some lying around in a closet. Did I mention? Drop spindle, three ply?

So what did I do last Friday while I should have been working in the studio?

I frogged it.

I finally realized that there were just too many problems with it, and as I am always telling my students, it's worth it to rip it out so that you end up with something you really love. Firstly, I learned to spin making this sweater, and there were at least three distinctly different weights of yarn in it. Secondly, the wool that I got from my friend is just different enough in texture that I know it will bug the shit out of me. Thirdly, in the four years that I have been working on this my gauge has changed signifigantly, making one half of the front and inch longer than the other, and one sleeve an inch and a half longer. Forthly, I have a lot more experience with sweater design now, and I feel like I can make something that I'll really love.
So here is about half of the sweater yarn (still haven't ripped it all out yet). The yarn on the right was the "heavy" weight that isn't going to be a part of whatever I ultimately knit out of this. Turns out having undyed yarn in the house was just too much of a temptation, and I found myself out in my backyard at 5 o'clock in the evening, picking up last years walnuts to dye it. It didn't turn out quite as dark as I'd hoped, but I'm pretty amazed by the results. This is my first experiment with natural dying. I have some onion skins that I've been saving, and I think the "light" weight has a date with that dye pot.
And finally, I spent some quality time with my spinning wheel this weekend. I was throughly sick of the project that I have been working on, so I bought a little splurge package of roving at Woven Art. It had very distinct bands of color, so I abandoned my usual "long draw" method and worked at keeping the colors as separate as I could...of course when I was done I couldn't bare to ply it with anything, so this is my first experience with "Navajo Plying." There are some overspun sections, there are some "coiled" looking sections...but over all I am totally in love with it. I was actually intending this to be the first of the "pay it forward" items, but when all was said and done the skein was only about 50 yards long (navajo ply definately robs you of some length), and I wouldn't want to give someone a skein of yarn that wasn't long enough to knit something out of.

Besides, I have a pregnant friend, and I think a baby hat would be just the thing to show off those stripes.

I am so impatient to knit with this that I am going into the bathroom every half hour or so to "see if it's dry yet," (that would be fondle it, since of course I know it couldn't possibly be dry yet.)

Ragnar...such a god damn hippy.

Saved Seeds...

2009-03-28T16:20:00.002-04:00

I am an amateur seed saver. I think it was hearing about Monsanto and the terminator gene that got me all fired up...plus spending money every spring on seeds at the garden center.

Anyway, the thing about saving seeds is that there are a crap ton of seed in...oh say, a tomato. So while I might want to grow 6 or 7 black plum tomato plants in my garden, I definitely don't want to grow 200. And seeds have a shelf life....plus I'll be getting more this fall when I do the seed saving thing again.

So...if you are a gardener type, and you want some seeds send me an email and let me know your address, and what kinds of seeds you would like. I can't guarantee the varietal, or the viability of these, so plant at your own risk.

I have:

Tomatoes: These first ones are getting a little old, and they were from tomatoes that I purchased at a farmer's market. They're heirloom varieties, but I don't know exactly which ones. I also have relatively few of these so it might be first come first serve.

Orange: this is a medium sized tomato that's bright orange when ripe.
Yellow: same as above except canary yellow.
Purple: I think this is a smallish tomato and I think it's more like purple streaked.
Pink/Yellow: This was a great sandwich tomato, large and ruffled and very tasty. I suspect it of being a variety known as German Pink.
Green Zebra: Smallish sweet, has green stripes with yellowish green flesh when ripe.

I also have some Green Zebra seeds from last year. I'll probably mix them together for distribution purposes.

Also from last year I have some

Brandywine Tomato: Large, ruffled and sweet.
Black Plum: Just slightly larger than a "cherry" variety, very nice for salads, frustrating for sauces since they're so small.
and a tomato that I'm calling the
"Volunteer Plum" since it was growing in a community garden space that I took over last year. This may be a good old Roma, but it was a very productive, good sized plum tomato.

And in the non-tomato category there is

Sugar Baby Watermelon, this was from the CSA, but it's an heirloom so it should breed true. Small green skinned, pink fleshed watermelon.
Acorn Squash
Butternut Squash
and Calundula which is a daisy like flower, edible and medicinal, an annual but it reseeds itself like mad so plant somewhere that it won't matter if it spreads a bit.

So let me know if you want any and I'll try to get them in the mail by the end of next week.

jessyhenderson(atsign)gmail(dot)com

Ragnar...domesticated and shit

Knit it...

2009-03-23T17:43:00.002-04:00

I seem to have been avoiding the old blog lately. Fairly often I think "maybe I'll blog" and sometimes even sit down at the computer before thinking "ho, hum, but what would I say?" I think it's called "the first trimester," it's when everything seems harder than it should and you really just want to stay in bed for...six...more hours.

I do have a bit of homework to do. I want to introduce you all to the "knit it forward" ladies: yberry (who hasn't done her cut and paste post yet, naughty naughty Ms. Berry), Sarah (who went to high school with me...that should be interesting), Obsidian Kitten (who used to live here in Michigan, but ditched us for a fancy life in the big apple...we forgive her), NancyAnne (my BOSS), and Andi (quilter, mother and knitter extraordinaire).

For you (lucky? only time will tell) ladies, I have a short questionnaire:

Are you allergic to anything? Food, fiber, anything.

Are you mortally offended by any colors? What about colors you love? Answer carefully, I am bloody minded and evil.

Is there something missing in your life? A potholder maybe, or a nose cozy?

Post your answers in the comments....

Ragnar...just that lazy.

Cutting through the bullshit...

2009-03-05T09:21:00.003-05:00

Having a monster toddler has the same effect on your brain as drinking a pint of whiskey with breakfast. You pass through the world in a dreary haze, with occasional moments of manic joy, or anger, and when you climb in to bed at the end of the day you have an impression of what you did, but no very clear recollection. What did I have for breakfast? Did we go to the library?

I find that the prospect of having another wee human to sustain and nurture is a wonderfully focusing prospect. I've also worked out a really great (hopefully) mutually beneficial babysitting scheme with a friend, so I have certain days during the week that I am (almost certainly) guaranteed to have some time when the Toddlerasaurus is attached to someone elses leg, however briefly.

(a brief aside, to demonstrate what I mean about toddler/whiskey brain...I just tried to spell check Toddlerasaurus)

This is the state of my brain at the moment. I have a brief window of time before I am engulfed into the vortex which is newborn. I feel very strongly about not wasting that moment. I spent my last few studio hours gathering up unfinished projects that had hit the interminable puttering stage and (sit down for this) THROWING THEM AWAY, I shit you not. I am also mentally rearranging the to-knit list and moving three or four big projects on to the FROG.IT list. I'm inviting some friends over next weekend for a craft-eat-bitch party and I think my project is going to be frogging about three half knit sweaters. It'll give all the knitting newbs a good scare, don't you think?

Ragnar...productivity is the new black.

Questions I knew the answer to, but asked anyway because I'm just masochistic like that. Part 2 of 22

2009-03-03T12:15:00.001-05:00

Me, to the Manimal, approximately a week and a half ago:

"Man, I haven't had heartburn since I was pregnant. Come to think of it, smells have really been getting to me, and my nipples hurt, and my back hurts, and I'm always thirsty. Do you think I could be pregnant?"

Ragnar....knocked up yo.

The (fill in the blank) old days.

2009-02-24T10:58:00.003-05:00

I think there might be a few bleaders that have been with me since the very beginning of this here bloggerino. Perhaps they've all headed out yonder in search of greener, more interesting, more frequently updated pastures...but there might be one or two people around who remember what the old D.P was like before I had a camera.

Long rambling essays about my life as a cubicle rat, occasional teasing references to knitting projects, either begun or completed...

Well now the newbies are going to get a chance to enjoy picture free piracy as well. I think the camera fell off the couch one too many times, since now it only takes blurry pictures. There are about a bajillions things on the list that clock in before "buy a new camera for the express purpose of taking pictures of my knitting projects to post for strangers on the blog," boring things like keeping our gas and electricity on, and keeping up on the mortgage payment, so it will probably be a good long time before illustrated piracy is back on the map.

Of course I can always take crappy cell phone pictures, so it won't be totally barren...but...yeah, crappy cell phone pictures.

Enough whining, on to the content.

So I have to say that Ms. NancyAnne's feisty comment about holding me to my 12 month promised raised a bit of the viking in me. Oh yeah? Oh yeah, well you know how many things I've finished in the last month?

Three, and one of them had buttons on it.

With one more to be completed today, and possibly another by the end of the week. That's five things missy. Of course I could say 12 because I have no photographic evidence at the moment, but suffice to say I am feeling pretty cocky about adding a whole bunch of new projects to the queue.

And double besides, I only have 4 takers so far, so that's even more doable.

My first thought was to knit everyone false mustaches, in styles that I felt suited their personalities. My second was to search around in the unfinished object bin and find half knit things that suited their personalities. My third, of course, was to play by the unspoken rules and start a new projects, start to finish. I wonder who's going to win? My angel, my devil, or my inner mustache lover. Feel free to drop broad hints on your blogs about what you might be hoping for...oh and Andi? It's all piratey baby.

Ragnar...photo free yo.

Toddlersaurus Rex

2009-02-20T12:15:00.003-05:00

Everyone knows that parenting is about insanity, right?

It is insane that I can get pelted in the face with balls day after day, hour after hour and still have a warm fuzzy feeling when I look at my son.

It is insane that my 18 month old is getting is two-year molars in already.

It is insane that I sleep with a 30 pound baby on my chest night after night.

It is insane that I read this over on handknitter's blog and thought "Oh, what a great idea. I love that. I'm totally doing that."

So here be it:

The first five people to respond to this post will get something made by me! My choice. For you. This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:

- I make no guarantees that you will like what I make.
- What I create will be just for you.
- It'll be done in the next 12 months.
- You have no clue what it's going to be.
- I reserve the right to do something unusual.

The catch? You have to put this in your blog as well. Pass on the love!

That's the text as appears on Sarah's blog. I'm clarifying a couple of points. Firstly the item will not necessarily be knit. I'm a crafty ho, you know, it could be...I don't know, made out of chewing gum and Popsicle sticks. I also want to point out the specification that you have to post this on your blog...that means only people who blog are illegable. I'm not running some hand-made gift charity thing here. You gots to reciprocate.

And yes, Ragnarson is manically destroying my house, manifestly refuses to nap, thinks the phrase "no hitting" is the funniest thing he's ever heard, and wants to be held, by me, for 24 hours per day. This is probably why I think adding 5 more items to me (shrinking! yes) to do list is a perfectly wonderful idea.

Ragnar...can you feel the crazy?

Note: Although there are now more than five comments, there are not 5, valid, willing, blogging comments, so it's still open...come on people, it's going to be pretty sad if I can't find 5 people who want me to make them something.

Strange noise....

2009-02-15T09:54:00.002-05:00

I just spent 10 minutes trying to track down the source of a strange noise. It was sort of a chirppy, high pitched sort of cheeping noise. I thought at first that it was an alarm on my roommates' cell phone and thought about breaking into their room to turn it off.

Then I thought it was a squeak in my CD player, but when I put my ear against it, it was apparent that it wasn't coming from there either.

Finally I opened the backdoor and realized that it was a bird sitting on the neighbors tree.

Spring...come soon, I've been stuck in side for so long, I've forgotten that birds sing in the morning.

Oy.

Ragnar...cabin fever is my middle name, baby.

PS...looking for test knitters for the Viking Hat, both Baby/Toddler Sized and Adult. Email to jessyhenderson(at)geeemail(dot)com. Thanks

Very helpful.

2009-02-11T09:38:00.002-05:00

Ragnarson has developed a very "helpful" streak. It's been building for awhile now. He loves the broom, and will get it out of the closet and push it around for minutes at a time (a long span of activity for him).

A few days ago I heard a strange squashing sloshing noise and realized I hadn't closed the bathroom door. Running to the bathroom, because squashing and sloshing + baby could equal mess of unrecordable proportions I found that Ragnarson was plunging the toilet, lovely.

He also loves the snow shovel, and likes to push around any snow that makes it up onto our porch (not as much as used to, since we have nice overhangs now). Several times he has completely cleared the deck, neatly enough that Manimal remarked once upon coming home: "you shoveled the porch!" No, no, that would be your 18 month old son.

And then there is the not so helpful tool using side of his nascent personality. A few minutes ago I caught him using his toybox as a step stool. He had reached up onto the counter and liberated the butter from it's tray, holding it in his left hand while picking chunks off with his right and eating them. Ugh.

So far we are "gate free" at the new house, except for one on the front porch, which essentially turns the whole thing into a big outdoor playpen. I'm trying to teach him the phrase "Make noise outside." Won't our neighbors be thrilled that we are back.

Ragnar...go play outside!

Resolutions revisited....

2009-02-08T19:13:00.002-05:00

I did want to read some Austin.

Ragnar...I love me some classics...and brains.

How lazy can you get?

2009-02-04T14:30:00.002-05:00

Someone on facebook tagged me for this Meme, and I sort of vaguely remember being tagged for something sort of like it about a year ago...so I'm doubling up.

You all can consider yourself tagged.

25 Random things about me, that I'm sure you really wanted to know, really.

Baa, I'm a sheep, baa.

1. I embrace the "womanly" arts. Cooking, knitting, spinning, hell I'm even known to embroider on occasion. I try to do it with enough attitude that it becomes a feminist commentary.
2. I hate talking on the phone.
3. Whenever I do one of these "talk about yourself" things, I end up writing answers that are way too long and full of needless exposition.
4. Knitting is my meditation.
5. When I was pregnant I thought I would be the type of mom who's kid had a few nice high quality toys, hand made by little Gipetto type woodcarvers. Turns out I'm the kind of mom who gives her kid whatever plastic crap he wants, if it will gain her a moments peace.
6. I have a stainless steel problem. Especially bowls. At a rough estimate I have approximately 30 of them in various sizes. (Actually I just counted them, I have 34.)
7. In the last two years I've started four separate knitting projects with the exact same shades of eggplant purple and lime green. I didn't realize this until I started cataloging all of my unfinished projects. Mittens, a sweater, and felted bag and cant' remember what the 4th one was.
8. Since we moved into the New House, I've been making my bed everyday. I think this is a sign of maturity.
9. Every year on my birthday I turn 30. For awhile we referred to it as my (fill in the blank number) annual 30th birthday party, but I've lost track and I honestly can't remember how old I am without subtracting from the year that I was born. Oh yeah, I remember. I'm 30, so much for maturity.
10. I'm really really excited about gardening this summer.
11. I started my blog because I didn't have the guts to quit my job...now that I don't have a job I barely ever blog.
12. My favorite color is orange.
13. My pirate/skull obsession started as joke.
14. I am always a little self conscious when I am pushing a stroller. They seem so big and awkward, and I wonder if I look like one of those yuppie moms that push their kids around the mall. It doesn't help that my stroller is a "jogging" stroller.
15. When I cook an animal I try to save one of their bones. This only applies to whole or almost whole animals. For birds it's usually the wish bone. When I roasted a lamb I saved a couple of vertebrae.
16. I've avoided smoking cigarettes because I'm sure that I will become hopelessly addicted to them and become a pack a day smoker overnight...people who know about my relationship with caffeine know that I am not exaggerating.
17. I wish I could play a musical instrument.
18. I don't own a television...but sometimes I check out television shows from the library, so that I can see what everyone else is talking about.
19. I love, love, love my dishwasher, and my rice cooker. I just made my first loaf of bread in a bread maker...I must be getting old. The next thing you know I'll be buying a microwave.
20. I just roasted my first turkey. It turned out GREAT!
21. Petoskey makes me laugh, even when I'm not in a laughing mood.
22. I am learning to like squash.
23. Even though I have a pretty good voice, I am embarrassed whenever anyone hears me singing.
24. The next thing I want to figure out, as far as cooking goes, is what to do with a whole fish. The Oriental Mart where we shop always has big piles of fish with their heads and eyes and everything and I'm too intimidated by them to buy any. They also have shrimp with the heads still on. Maybe I should start there, not so many bones.
25. Sometimes I wish I could wear girly stuff like high heeled shoes and make-up without feeling completely ridiculous. The combat boots with a skirt thing looks okay now, but it's going to be pretty odd when I'm 60.

Now go and randomly type things about yourselves. No really, people really read these things. Really.

Ragnar...totally loving her new house. The camera broke, or I'd post some pictures of all our crap cluttering up the place.

That new house smell...

2009-01-17T15:10:00.004-05:00

is a combination of sawdust, polyurethane and cleaning products. I LOVE it.We've been collecting our belongings from various caches around town (friend's basements, my studio, etc.) and moving them over one pick-up truck load at a time. Although I'm very excited about moving in, I'm also a little sorry to realize that in comparison to the newness of the house, our furnishings and junk look extra crappy. I was sort of in denial regarding the quality of our belongings. You've heard of Shabby Chic? We specialize in Salvage Yard Not-Very-Chic. As one of our friends commented upon entering: "It looks like a Steelcase museum in here."

So imagine me arranging and rearranging our "vintage" office furniture, trying to somehow to make it look cozy and inviting. I'll be out of touch for awhile until we get our internet switching over to the new abode.

Ta ta.

Ragnar...home again.

Excited!!!!

2009-01-13T21:22:00.002-05:00

When Manimal came home for dinner tonight, he gave me the low down on the work they'd been doing at the new house.

Stove: hooked up.

Drier: hooked up.

Windows: construction gunk removed from tracks

Front Entryway Tile: sealed.

Kitchen Tile: scrubbed and ready to be sealed, tonight after dinner.

"And you know what else needs to be done, after the kitchen tile gets sealed, before the house is habitable?" he asked.

"I don't know, what?" I asked.

"Jack shit."

Ragnar...I'm in love with Jack!

PS: tomorrow I'm going over to take pictures of everything before we fill it up with our crap, so check out House of Straw sometime this week for finished photos.

Monogamous knitting...

2009-01-11T14:21:00.003-05:00

But first, a finished object. Yes it looks exactly like the last finished object I posted. That's because I've been knitting the horned helmets non-stop...this one is bigger though. The grown-man-who-should-know-better that this one's for has a 25 and a half inch cranium. Usually I can try things on as I go and get an idea about how they'll fit, but this one just made me feel like a little kid playing dress-up...if her papa was a viking.
Notice that it fits a 26" soccer ball like it was made for it. And those horns? All me baby. I'm so danged proud of my self I could just spit. I am told that the recipient hasn't removed it since he put it on, and that it's the only hat that's ever fit him properly so I guess all those years of higher math finally paid off. Ratios people, it's all about the ratios.

If your first finished project sets the tone for the year, then 2009 is going to be one hell of a party.

And speaking of knitting in 2009, what's with this goal to become a monogamous knitter? Huh?

Well I had a little sit down with myself awhile back and said, self, said I, you need to get this knitting thing under control. If you don't reign in a bit you're going to be putting yourself at risk for all sorts of knittingly-transmitted-diseases, like stash-lice and UFOitis. And then I answered myself, okay self, I'm willing to discuss it, but you have to drop the knitting as sex metaphor because it's just sad, and no one likes that sort of junior high humor anyway, okay?

Long story short, I've realized that the reason I never finish anything is because I have (at last count) 14 things on the needles (no wonder I can never find my needles). And I flit from one to the other until I'm just not in the mood for any of it, and then I start something new. So I've written them all down and I'm seriously trying to whittle the list down to a managable size. I've even started writing down "promised" and planned knitting projects in a "list" with the intention of whittling those down as well. So far, so good, although instead of picking one item off the list and working on it until it's done, I'm still allowing myself to flit from one to the next as long as it's already started...sort of like an alcoholic visiting all of the old watering holes before going on the wagon.

The prize at the end? I haven't decided yet, but I've had my eye on some of those fabulous fair isle sweaters....dum dum dum dum.

Ragnar...knit slut no more.

Gate Crasher

2009-01-07T12:14:00.003-05:00

Of course I knew there would come a time when I couldn't rely on babygates to keep Ragnarson in his place. Naively I thought that time would come when he was three or so. Turns out I was wrong by about a year and a half.

We call this tricycle his "seige machine." He uses it as a combination battering ram/stepping stool. I've tried hiding it but then he uses his toybox or a laundry basket.
So far I've managed to catch him before he gets the second leg over, but after a couple of thwarted efforts he gets pissed and just rips the gate out of the door frame.
Usually he pulls it down on top of himself, but a few days ago while I was cooking dinner, he managed to pull it out of the doorframe, staggering backwards a few steps, but remaining upright. When I stuck my head around the corner to see what was going on he was standing there looking like the Incredible Hulk, holding the babygate in front of him, which he then tossed to the side before stomping into the kitchen to confront me.

Oy.

For his next trick: he is learning the fine art of nose blowing, which is pretty useful what with all the winter colds that have been going around. This morning while I was folding laundry though, he was pulling kitchen towels and washclothes out of the laundry bin faster than I could fold them, and blowing his nose on every single one before dropping it and reaching for another.

Little...sweet darling baby.

Ragnar...proud? mama.

Be it resolved...

2009-01-03T12:18:00.005-05:00

I usually do end up making some sort of nod to the tradition of New Years Resolutions...even on those years that I manifestly refuse to resolve anything, I have to honestly say that there's a deep down, follower inside me that just can't let January 1st pass without whispering something like: "work out everyday, I'm going to work out everyday! but not tell anyone about it, because I'm not making any resolutions this year...yeah."

And I'm feeling a lot of change related energy right now, what with (almost!) moving into a new house, a completely empty, new house where for the first time in my life I won't be living in a space that's full of other people's baggage. Add to that the fact that I'm having to reevaluate my lifestyle, finally coming to terms with the fact that Mommy Ragnar is in fact a different person from Step-Mommy Ragnar, and you have a me that's practically vibrating with good intentions for the New Year.

Freshly Inspired by Jodi Green and her Uberlist, both the 2008 and 2009 versions, I give you: Ragnar's Completely Ridiculous, Unachievable but Well Intentioned List of the 100 Things I Want to Manifest in 2009. I may at some point expand on some of these but for now, a simple list.

1. Smile at people, and make eye contact.
2. Participate.
3. Become a monogamous knitter.
4. Grow food instead of plants.
5. Take myself seriously.
6. Work in the studio at least once a week, even if that means going in for an hour and puttering around, accomplishing nothing.
7. Organize.
8. Get better at making things out of wood.
9. Take a class in something.
10. Spin
11. Reupholster the "dining room" chairs.
12. Publish at least 4 new knitting designs.
13. Submit at least 1 design for publication.
14. Do not allow the new house to fill up with junk.
15. Build 2x4 shelves for the studio.
16. Keep the Etsy store up to date.
17. Knit a sweater for myself.
18. Build a light box to facilitate the taking of better pictures of artwork and crafts.
19. Get excited about things.
20. Sew curtains.
21. Read something by Jane Austen.
22. Post a project on Instructables.
23. Stop using Ragnarson as an excuse for why I can't get anything done.
24. Make a chore schedule.
25. Economize.
26. Visit someone in a far away place.
27. Eat less pork.
28. Eat more lamb and goat.
29. Brush and Floss.
30. Build a wood oven in the backyard.
31. Whittle.
32. Make a dressform.
33. Send postcards to people instead of emailing them when I'm just writing to say "hi."
34. Stop eating candy at work.
35. Use my datebook.
36. Do laundry before I completely run out of clothes.
37. Make some artist trading cards.
38. Go to the dentist.
39. Compost.
40. Read less crappy chic-lit.
41. Sing.
42. Socialize.
43. Use up yarn.
44. Sew clothes that I will wear.
45. Send birthday cards.
46. Buy music.
47. Write a story.
48. Recycle
49. Ride my bike
50. Do not knit things that are not on "the list."

Half way through, whew. Take a breather for a second.

51. Make something out of clay.
52. Wear color.
53. Enter at least one quilt show.
54. Be a better friend.
55. Do not delay making phone calls.
56. Use Ravelry as a tool, not a distraction.
57. Take Rat Girl to a play.
58. Go to Wednesday night knitting group...once in awhile.
59. Follow through.
60. Bake bread.
61. Design my next tattoo.
62. Work in the Gardenhouse, at least once a month.
63. Keep a better record of knitting projects.
64. Eat at home.
65. Strength train.
66. Work on the yard.
67. Earn money.
68. Be less judgemental.
69. Work with K and B on quilt tile designs.
70. Plan meals in advance.
71. Take vitamins.
72. Cut back on caffeine.
73. Make deliberate decorating decisions on the house.
74. Replace plastic food storage containers.
75. Preserve food for winter.
76. Get fresh air.
77. Make soap.
78. Go to art shows.
79. Subscribe to a magazine.
80. Cultivate patience.
81. Make halloween costumes for the family.
82. Buy in bulk.
83. Teach a quilting class.
84. Tell people that I love them.
85. Approach local galleries about showing my work.
86. Don't worry about what other people think.
87. Use reuseable shopping bags.
88. Explore "found objects" in my quilts.
89. Repaint Ragnarson's blocks.
90. Reject guilt.
91. Sew fabric produce bags.
92. Sketch.
93. Ask for help.
94. Invite people over.
95. Read a non-fiction book.
96. Go camping.
97. Sew in the third dimension.
98. Swim in one of the great lakes.
99. Forage.
100. Listen to myself.

Ragnar...show me what you've got 2009.

Good-bye crappy old year that's been....

2008-12-31T21:02:00.002-05:00

What am I doing for new years eve? Well...I made a big pot of borsht, and I'm waiting for my sweetie Manimal to get home from buttoning up the house project and then we'll probably eat borsht and go to bed at 9:00. Wheee!

I don't want to put 2008 down too badly because it's been the first year of my baby's life and I wouldn't trade it back for anything, but it's been a roller coaster and I'm not sad to see it go.

New Babies: just as much work as any abstinence only health class teacher ever tried to frighten you celibate by implying that they would be. Anyone want to help me with the grammar there?

And living somewhere that's not really your house, with most of your stuff in storage (I am STILL wearing maternity clothes, and I weigh ten pounds less than I did when I got pregnant, thank you belt) while your partner works 16 hour days trying to build a new house while also working at actual paying jobs. Yeah, that's not been the most fun. Remember the time I invited some people over for dinner and realized that in order to feed them we would need to use every bowl in the house...because we only have 8 bowls...no plates, just 8 bowls.

Did I mention that Manimal broke his collar bone? How about that he had knee surgery? Oh, yeah, at the same time that he had a broken collar bone. Let's not repeat that ever again, ever. If there is anything crankier than a wounded Manimal trying to get around on crutches with a broken collar bone, then you can keep it at your house and I will definately not come and visit you.

How about the fact that Ragnarson seems determined to win the tooth race and has been teething continually since he was about 6 months old? That kid has every single tooth already with the exception of his two year molars. And they all came in fours. This causes him to wake up approximately 6 times a night...boy am I looking forward to the end of that chapter of his development.

So...yeah. If this seems really whiney, I'm sorry, but it's really not. I'm just sort of reflecting back and realizing that the reason I feel like I've been run over by a dump truck is that I just lived through one hell of a year. I'm actually sort of proud of myself for keeping it together (as much as I did, and thankfully Manimal was the only one to witness most of the breakdowns, and he's forgiven me...I think).

Here's to hard times and the surviving of them. I don't usually mark the new year by doing anything more special than throwing away the old calendar and hanging up the new one, but I am really feeling optomistic about 2009. I think optomisim is something I acquired with motherhood, maybe all that good breastfeeding oxytocin. I used to call myself an optomistic pessimist, meaning that I felt like everything was fucked up, but that it was all going to be okay anyway. Lately though I've found myself feeling like things are getting less fucked up, and that maybe, just maybe things are going to be great.

Ragnar...maudlen and dreary, but, you know, in a good way.

The great thing about never posting...

2008-12-28T22:21:00.002-05:00

is that when I do finally start, I can make it look like I crank out the cool knits at super speed by picking through all the boring stuff and only trotting out the winners.

Super you say?

One of my oldest (not chronologically, just historically...although come to think about it Rat Girl is the same age as we were when we met...ohmygod, I feel really old...wow) friends had a baby mere months after Ragnarson was born and when I asked her if she wanted a practical baby present, or a ridiculous knitted item, she casually mentioned that her signifigant was a huge superman fan. I considered it a mandate.
The sweater, modeled by Ragnarson, is the "Sue" babysweater, from Elspeth Lavold's "Take Five Collection." I picked that pattern because I had knit it before, and love the way it goes together...of course it only took me about five seconds to realize that I was going to include a button on cape...sewn of course, because knitted 1) would have been really heavy and 2) would have been too close to knitting a baby blanket, and I am philosophically opposed to the knitting of baby blankets.

It was finished embarassingly long ago, but I had to hold on to it because Ragnarson had to learn how to walk so that I could get a good picture of it, and then I had to hang on to it for months longer so that he could borrow it for a last minute Halloween costume, but it has finally winged its way to its new home and been pronounced by the Superman Fan to be the "coolest ever." High praise indeed. Good thing I knit it in a size two because the baby in question is definately closer to being two than he is to being a newborn. I'm going to start knitting his fifth birthday present soon...I think I'll make it for a 40" chest.

Ragnar...better at knitting than gifting on time.

I gotcher knittin' right here...

2008-12-24T21:52:00.004-05:00

There are nasty rumors floating around the blogosphere. It's been whispered in some circles that Ragnar doesn't have the knit anymore (not true, the blogosphere cares not if Ragnar knits or doesn't but it makes for a dramatic opening).

Untrue! and to prove it I throw down the (100% washable Merino) gauntlet and say "bring on the pictures of ridiculous hats.
So there! And not only that, but for some unfathomable reason, adult men of my acquaintance have been clamoring to be decked in horns and rivets as well, so not only are there baby vikings running about the place, but full grown old-enough-to-know-better types as well.

Of course, they are happy to walk around in public looking like (ahem) fierce medieval warriors, but they will not condescend to be photographed for posterity, even if posterity is my humble low traffic blog.

I have knit this hat enough times that writing up the pattern for it has become inevitable. There were only two things stopping me. The first being that the whole thing was originally inspired by Chile Con Yarne's Viking Baby Cap. Well not exactly, it was inspired by my adorible...I mean ferocious nephew, but a quick google of the phrase "viking baby cap" brought me straight to Yarne's door. The second was that I've been cribbing the horn portion of the hat from Jen Stafford over the The Dominitrix. If you have her book, or her pattern you can do the same, but you're not going to learn her secrets from me, no no. As a finally-begining-to-publish designer I am suddenly quite sensitive to this whole copywrite thing that people are so anxious about.

However, I have decided that although inspired by, my version has enough variance from the orignial that I can claim it as "my" design, and tonight I polished up my knitting sticks and knit a totally passable "horn" that is all my own, short rows, slipped stitches, the whole shebang.

So watch this space! Sometime soon you to will be able to outfit your family and friends with knitted versions of kitchy viking helmets.

And in the mean time, I finally fixed the flame baby-hat pattern, which had a completely wrong flame chart in it...these things happen when you knit a lot of things with flames in them and completely fail to lable your notes.

And for those of you on Ravelry, I has finally got my own "store." Which has exactly the same stuff that's already posted here, but you know...it's in pdf format and you can save it in your Ravelry library and...and...yeah.

Ragnar...yes this is what I'm doing on christmas eve, SHUT UP.

One of those posts....

2008-12-08T14:12:00.003-05:00

Yes, I suck as a blogger.

Yes I haven't updated in a loooong time.

Yes I have many many excuses (plague, broken bones (manimal's not mine), construction) which I will not bore you with here.

Yes, I have another blog which I did update. Go look at my soon to be finished new house.

Yes, I will make hollow, unenforceable promises to blog more regularly, in spite of the fact that we will be moving soon and have no immediate plans to plug in to the world wide waste of time...I wonder how long I'll be able to hold out before I go out and beg, borrow, steal an internet connection.

Yes, instead of content I will post a cute picture of a baby.

Ragnar...pathetic excuse for a blogger.

Open letter to failed financial institutions...

2008-10-18T19:51:00.002-04:00

Dear FFIs,

Hey, it's me. Remember me? I'm that Fine Art major. You remember, the chronically under employed one who is always late on her payments? We've talked on the phone quite a bit. Usually the calls went something like this:

You: Hey, you owe us a bunch of money.
Me: Yeah, you and every other bank in America.
You: Ha, but seriously, how are you going to pay us back.
Me: Uhm...slowly?
You: Not good enough, we want it now or we're going to ruin your credit forever.
Me: So?
You: So that is really going to mess up your life.
Me: So says you.
You: No, really, give us our money.
Me: If I had it, you'd be the first one I'd give it to, after paying my mortgage, my utility bills, my grocery bill and the six other lending institutions in line ahead of you.
You: Aren't there sacrifices you can make? What if you cancel your cable?
Me: Don't own a television.
You: Uh...what about borrowing against your car?
Me: Yeah, I can't afford to pay you, and all you do is harass me at odd hours. If I borrow against my car and then can't pay them...because like I said, I can't pay you, then I don't have a car. That would seriously limit the amount of pizza I could deliver if I get that desperate.
You: Did we mention that we'll ruin your credit?
Me: Once or twice....look how about I call you back in 6o years when I have some extra cash?
You: But...but...but...
Me: Click.

Yeah, that chick. That was me! So anyway, I just wanted to say, welcome to the bottom. Also, you're welcome, since, although I couldn't afford to pay you, I do manage to pay my taxes, so part of that big check you're getting with all the zeros? That came from me. I'll be expecting repayment promptly, and if you're just one day late, I'm going to double the interest rate. Also, I'll need your home phone number so that I can call you during dinner and first thing in the morning.

Ragnar...I've been on the bottom so long, it's starting to look like the top.

All that and now he's getting smart on me?

2008-10-03T21:45:00.004-04:00

I've been raising, maybe even nurturing (a little bit, on those days after I've gotten more than four hours of sleep...not consecutively of course, hah!) this "baby" for 13 and a half months now. You'd think that I would have realized by now that he is eventually going to stop being a baby and start being a "person," but no, every new thing he figures out is just as shocking as the last one.

There is one room in the house that is an absolute no-zone as far as the baby is concerned. It is where the computer lives, and where we throw things that are non-baby friendly so that we don't actually have to figure out what to do with them. He hates it when any member of his tribe is in this room. He used to hang on the gate and wail...but he has figured out that all he has to do is unplug the big orange extension cord, plugged in in the living room for lack of a three prong outlet in the "computer" room, and I will immediately cease to be engaged with the glowing box thingy and come back out, no doubt to play with him. If I sneak away while he is engaged with a toy or activity, I can eek out approximately 10 minutes to check my email or download photos before he figures out where I am and pulls my plug. He never pulls this plug when I am not in the computer room.

Similarly he has realized that if he brings me a toy I will say something dumb like "Oh, you brought me a green ball, thank you for the green ball Ragnarson," but if he brings me a book I will stop everything and read it to him...he doesn't really care about the book, and loses interest after about two pages (average of 10 words per page), but they work great as "mommy attention getter."

I noticed today that every time I went in the kitchen to try and wash dishes or cook (another gated off room), he would start banging one of his wooden blocks against the large window at the front of our house, which would of course bring me running.

But he still eats dirt, so he can't be that smart.
See that nice mud pit in the corner of the garden box? He made that all by himself.

Ragnar...mama of the monster.

Finally, some knitting content...

2008-09-24T12:16:00.003-04:00

Yes it's true, in spite of everything I still haven't given up the old sticks and string...although I did make the mistake of letting Ragnarson "play" with a ball of yarn I was knitting off of the other day. "I'll just let him have it until I get to the end of this row," I thought to myself, thought I. Yeah...2 hours later, after unraveling the world's largest yarn knot, and untangling it from around his neck, and the furniture, I realized that getting to the end of the row just isn't that worth it.

Anyway, I'm trying to put some of my "patterns" together. I've received a ton of delightful comments about the "Golden Harvest Hat" since I've been using a picture of it as my "Ravatar." So I've decided to offer up the chart and let other people play along. I even reworked it a little so that people who aren't fans of our most preemenant breakfast eatery can enjoy it as well (the second version reads "eat the rich" which is a touching sentiment in these times of economic woe, don't you think?)

For the bargin price of ONE dollar, yes, One dollar (although if you are planning to pay via "paypal" I ask that you make it $1.36 since that's how much fees they charge me), I will send you a PDF file that includes both charts. The reason I'm selling it for so little is that it is only a chart, and it's only been knit once, it has some very long floats in it, and the gauge was sort of wonky and I had to felt it a bit when it was done. So basically this is an untested pattern, unsupported, but which took me awhile to figure out (tines on the fork people, there are tines on the fork). So it is what it is.

I am a complete newb at this "selling patterns online" thing, so you all are just going to have to work with me on this. If you are interested you can email me at jessyhenderson(atsign)geeeemail(dot)com (of course that is a phonetic spelling, to cut down on the spaminatoring, and you smart little firecrackers will correct the spelling before you try to send me a message yes?). Then I will send you the pattern and you will send me some money, honey. And of course you will send me pictures of your finished projects, and complaints about how fucked up my chart is, and eventually I will get sick of everyone's bitching and I will edit it into a proper pattern and then I will charge more money for it and anyone who didn't get it while the getting was good, will be shit out of yarn.

Ragnar...chart this.

Domesticity for Talk Like a Pirate Day...

2008-09-19T14:01:00.003-04:00

Mixin' it up on the old D.P.

You were thinking I was gonna get all piratical for Talk Like a Pirate Day, weren't you? Huh? Weren't you? Well you thought wrong! I'm gonna get all domestic but I'll throw in a few "yars" just to keep everything comfy and piratical.

Yar!! I've got a crap ton of tomatoes sitting around the galley, and if'in I don't do something with 'em righty quick then they be stinkin' up the hold...and our hold doesn't need more stinkin' arrr har! A bowl of tomatoes, blanched and ready to slip out of their skins, yo ho. The pan on the right is to put shucked and seeded tomotoes in, the jar on the left is for seeds. If you're already seeding tomatoes for canning, you might as well save the seeds right? What? You've never saved tomato seeds? You wastrel! You scurvy lubber.

Just scoop the seeds out (or push them out with you thumbnail, yar!) and put them into some sort of container. Look! a jar of reddish sludge with lots of seeds in it. This jar has the seeds from about 10 tomatoes.

It is sitting on my windowsill where it will begin to ferment a little bit. We will be revisiting it every couple of days to see how those seeds are doing, yo ho ho and a bottle of rotten tomato pulp, har!

Ragnar...swash my buckle, and tie my apron strings.

My little prizefighter...

2008-09-14T18:52:00.003-04:00

Last week I posted a (slightly exaggerated) story about Ragnarson's bedtime ritual, wherein I alleged that my baby doesn't look like an angel while he's asleep.

This is mama heresy, and admitting such a thing, in public no less, could get me bucked from the union. So I offer you photographic evidence.

See? He doesn't so much look like an angel, as he does a boxer down for the count.

Ragnar...mama jamma.

Should be...

2008-09-11T21:08:00.002-04:00

Should be: writing cover letters to complete application packet for "dream job" that I didn't know I wanted before last Tuesday.

Am: farting around on Ravelry, having a beer and wondering how to translate "playing a lot of solitaire and occasionally updating my blog" into "excellent computer skills."

Ragnar...I am a people person, damn it, I am!

Lazy post...

2008-09-05T13:17:00.003-04:00

I finally updated the "house" blog. So pretend you're interested and click on through.

And since I know that the only reason anyone stops here anymore is to check out pictures of the baby...
Notice how he is simultaneously mugging for the camera and pushing a piece of toast off the tray of his highchair...that is talent.

Ragnar...houseblogger, mommyblogger and maybe sometime soon a knitblogger...tease tease.

Are you sick of posts about the baby yet?

2008-08-30T10:30:00.003-04:00

I've noticed a slight change in the types of anecdotes that "old-pro" type mama's tell me now that we've made it past the one year mark. For some reason when you are the mother (or father perhaps? one of you fathers will have to tell me) of a newborn, people tell you stories of the sleepless nights, the endless colic, the spitting up, the getting peed on...like you need to hear that. I think it's the same instinct that causes us to tell birth horror stories to pregnant women, an ingrained type of cultural hazing perhaps.

Now that I am the proud Mama of a rockin' walkin' one year old people look at my superactive, always busy, dirty, flirty little one and tell me some version of this story. (I've heard it three or four times now)

"Some of my favorite times with my baby were after they had been running around all day, and had their bath. They would be all warm and snuggly and I they would smell so good. Then when they went to sleep they would seem so peaceful, like a little angel."

The most important parts of this story are that 1). babies smell good after their bath, and 2). babies look like angels when they are sleeping.

Now I don't know if this story is some construction of memory, but if I was going to tell my version it would go something like this.

"I remember when my baby started walking, he would run around the house like a maniac all day long, spreading all his toys out around the living room, stashing them under the furniture where I would have to get down on my hands and knees to retrieve them, or dropping them over the babygates and then screaming because he couldn't get them. After all the toys had been taken out of the toy box, then he would start to hide our shoes and pull things off of the tables, where I put them so that he wouldn't be able to get at them. In the evening he would get this sort of manic intensity, alternating between hyperactive wriggling and fussy crying, and then I would know that it was time for bed.

I wouldn't want to give him a bath, because I knew that would just get him more cranked up, plus his favorite bathtime game was "swing the washcloth," so both me and the bathroom would be entirely soaked by the time we were done. I didn't really have a choice though, if it was just the fact that he was all dirty I probably could have let it slide, but bathtime was the time that I would check him for new bruises and scrapes and make sure that all of the new injuries were minor enough that we wouldn't have to run to the emergency room.

After the bath he would smell like a wet dog, and I would towel him off and wrestle him into his pajamas. Then I would lay down with him and try to calm him down by reading him a couple of books, although I would have to give him and extra book to chew on, and usually he would get bored with the story and start whacking me with the extra book. Then when we finally laid down he would try to nurse while standing up and getting out of bed at the same time, which was pretty irritating. Eventually he would just pass out, although he would still be twitching in his sleep, rolling around and tangling up his blankets. Sometimes he would even sleep for half an hour before he'd wake up enough that I'd have to come back in and nurse him back to sleep."

Ragnar...of course the son of the Manimal would smell like a wet dog after his bath.

Stealing a riff...Questions I knew the answer to, but asked anyway because I'm just masochistic like that. Part 1 of 22

2008-08-28T15:54:00.003-04:00

Blatantly stealing someone else's funny idea is almost as good as coming up with your own right?

In an "imatation is the sincerest form of flattery" type vein, I give you:

Questions I knew the answer to, but asked anyway because I'm just masochistic like that. Part 1 of 22

Asked of Manimal, after returning from having rinsed the baby in the shower in an effort to remove the shit that he had managed to smear all over himself, including up his nose and in his eye:

"Do you want to hold the baby, or scrub shit out of the carpet?"

More fun with bowls....

2008-08-27T13:10:00.002-04:00

The "turtle" bowl sculpture...
The "Alien Space Pod", bowl sculpture...
The "Happy Apple Up on Top" bowl sculpture...note Ragnarson's less than thrilled expression? Rat Girl isn't around to interpret for me, but I think we can safely say that he could he talk he would be saying: "Uh...Mom? Are you okay? Because I think you're sort of overdoing it with the bowls, and in case to forgot, those are MY bowls, so, can I like, play with them please?"

Ragnar...stainless steel is my new medium, baaaaybee.

Baby toys?

2008-08-26T12:14:00.004-04:00

For those of you who don't have children yet, I'll let you in on a big parenting secret that will save you a lot of money when you take the plunge.

There is no such thing as baby toys.

There are lots of cute hunks of wood, plastic and plush marketed as baby toys of course, but these are really "parent" toys. Things for you to play with while the baby entertains him/herself by eating paint chips, and stale crackers out of the corners where the vacuum won't reach.

There's pretty much only one game at our house these days, and it's called "stack 'em up, knock 'em down." Guess which part of that is my job? Ragnarson is getting pretty quick at the knock 'em down part, so I rarely get more than three things stacked, and he's got quite an arm, so things fly pretty far. Really we should rename it "stack 'em up, knock 'em down, watch Mama crawl under the chair to get the blocks" because I think that's the part he really likes.

We have a set of stacking blocks, sturdy wooden nesting blocks that have been passed down to us through two previous children. Ragnarson is systematically destroying them. I have a "things that need to be glued" pile on the livingroom table, and there is usually at least one of these blocks awaiting repair.

The absolute best stacking "toy" of the moment is a bunch of stainless steel bowls, some that I bought at a garage sale specifically for Ragnarson, and some that used to be our salad bowls, but which are now part of the clangy, bangy pile in the playbox.

Being the frustrated artist that I am, I immediately saw the possiblity for sculpture a'la Brancusi's "Endless Column" and have been sort of obsessed about getting ALL bowls stacked up together...to the point where I caught myself holding Ragnarson at bay with one hand and trying to finish my tower with the other...see what I mean about "parent toys?" I finally managed it by making a secondary pile of things to distract Destructo Boy while I quickly stacked and photographed.Yeah, I am well aware of how pathetic this is.

And Ragnarson: such a critic.
Ragnar...yeah, I need to get out more.