Nobody here but us...

Chickens!

I've found a place that does local organic humanely raised chickens! And eggs! It's Pete and Jen's Backyard Birds. They even have chicken feet, which I'll use to make stock so I don't have to buy stock from teh grocery store as often.

That means I've got fruits and vegetables from Brookfield Farm, beef and lamb from Red River Rock Farm, chickens and eggs from Pete and Jen. Now all I need is a local source of milk and milk-based things.




I've been re-reading the Little House books, as I mentioned below, and I've just gotten through "The Long Winter," in which the town almost starves to death and I'm feel some pull in what Christopher calls my Russian soul to stock up my pantry and larder this summer.



My mother and father are coming back from the Carolinas today. They called yesterday and said they had a wonderful time -- the weather was perfect for beaching it.



And that's all the news there is to print.

May wakes up

May wakes up with crazy mad blond hair everywhere.



And then Mommy fixes it.

It's a quiet Saturday here at our place. May is napping (though not soundly). We're doing the laundry rotation (one load take two hours). And I'm baking Nikki's not-to-be-beat brownies.

We went to the HMNH last night for family night and May got to touch a live snake (an eastern red corn snake) and she saw dinosaur bones and fossils and a bunch of stuffed animals including a dodo and a Bengal tiger. I love the HMNH because it's so very Victorian in its execution and it makes me feel like a pulp heroine wandering through the 130 year old rooms looking at formaldehyde-smelling taxidermied species or arthropods in jars of alcohol. (There was a wood lice the size of a big kitten! It was cool and creepy all at once.)

Cathy got an offer on her house, so moving may happen soon. Best of luck to her.

We're looking forward to our Sox game (courtesey of Seth and Sarah) on Tuesday. We've got a babysitter -- Adrea -- who will take care of her. Andrea used to be one of our baristas before she quit to work elsewhere and she adores May. Well, who doens't?

That's all for now!

Brunneous mystery

So we've complained, verbally and on the blog, that we need another Brunneous. (Brunneous, in case you're unaware, is May's go-to-sleep bear. It's also a word that means, "Brown, like a bear.") We want a spare to start in rotation soon so that the old one and the new one wear and smell similarly.

(Noel had the problem that a new purple hippo was unacceptable to Abbey because it was too new.)

So today I got a package in the mail. A stuffed Brunneous. From Michigan. With no note. No clue who sent it.

So if you sent it, please let us know. We'd like to thank you!

Q&D post

Look! A pretty picture of May:



Latest family news:

Grammy and Grampy Nielsen are in N.C. at Sunset Beach enjoying some nice weather. They have gone down to spend time with Aunt Jeri (Mom's sister) and with Uncle Bill (Aunt Jeri's ex). Uncle Bill has cancer and isn't doing well, so prayers would be welcome.

Cathy has put an offer down on a condo in the same complex as G.G.Parents Murray. Good luck!

Kevin bought a place across the street from his current one. Please feel free to mock him as this is his second move across the street.

The three of us are going to D.C. in the middle of May to see the capitol (and the capital) and Uncle Steve.

And here's another picture of May:



What we're reading:

Christopher: The End of the Beginning

Amanda: Little House on the Prairie, On the Banks of Plum Creek, By the Shores of Silver Lake, and Forty Signs of Rain

Magnolias, crocuses, crabapples

Glorious day, rapture in the morning, sunshine on my hair, and green things on the trees, spring is finally here.

After weeks of rain and clouds and cold and more clouds, after a Nor'easter that nearly blew the marathoners out to sea, after blowing through two umbrellas and a pair of brand new boots, Spring has finally constented to peer her pale green head up out of the dark loam. The crocuses, usually blowsy and past their prime in March, are still here in demure banks of puple and white, alongside a blast of daffadowndillys and the first Crayola yellow splatters of forsythia.

There's a very small, nearly sturnted magnolia tree on the bike path. It's only slightly taller than May when she's standing up. Every day for a month we've wheeled the stroller through the black, sticky mud (thank you, Jeep, for fat knobbly tires!) and checked out one fat, furry bud on the end of a branch that's jsut the right height.

Every day I promised May, "Soon there will be flowers." Big fat liar, me. But with the sun and the warm yesterday and today, finally the waxy white leaves are starting to slip out of their fuzzy calyx. By tomorrow, we'll have flowers. I hope.

Next to it, there's a mini orchard of flowering crabapples with tiny leaves no bigger than May's thumbnail. They weren't there at all Thursday, then just a hint of green Friday. Within a week, they will be fully unfurled.

The vernal pools alongside the bike path are slowly shrinking, and the college students are all out in flip flops and shorts. Kids are shrieking and running -- May is tearing down the bike path at top speed and then suddenly drops into a squat to examine some small thing, an ant or a rock or a fallen piece of paper. It's finally, finally, finally spring and we're all mad for it.

That's all I have to say.

Rain, rain, go away

Today's photos are black and white because I feel kinda gray after all this danged rain. It's hard to deal with an active (very active) toddler when you're stuck inside all the time.

We went to the story time at the library yesterday and on my way, I dimly recalled that the story hour was going to be cancelled for a concert by a local band called The Pixie Stix. It seemed like a kinda amateurish band and Anna Marie (librarian extraordinaire!) had had them before, she said, and they were kinda small potatoes compared to the "big" names in kids bands. (none of whom I've heard of, so I will refrain from citing them.)

So i figure instead of our usual 10 adults and 15 kids, we might get 20 adults and 30 kids.

Wow, was I wrong. Had to be 150 kids and adults there. It was a munchkin mob scene. They band was good, though their set was a little too long for the audience's attention. (And for my hips! I've discovered that sitting on a concrete floor in half lotus while trying to keep a 15 mo old from hugging everyone until they cry is hard on my hips.)

It was fun, but it wasn't the kind of energy release she needed. Nor, apparently, was the story hour at Porter Square today. She wanted to run and play, which is fine, but she also wanted total control of Porter, the stuffed dog, and the giant bear, and the book carousel, and the hardbacks, and the toy food, and... well, you get the picture. We left after 15 minutes.

What she really needs is an hour at the playground. Which is covered in two inches of standing water. Cold standing water. And she still can't walk in her puddle boots. So, no playground.

Which means I need chocolate in medicinal doses. And I'm not getting it. Sigh.

So here's a funny story

I'm not entirely certain taht I undersand why (I maintain it was a totally valid question with real scientific basis), but Nikki says that this is a very funny story that is all about Amanda. I figure I owe it to you after my rant earlier, so here goes:

As you all know, May had her first real diaper rash a couple of weeks ago. For a mom who had gone 14 months with only the very smallest hint of pink, to suddenly see my daughter's diaper area erupt in narsty red splotches and weals was a little scary. So I called on the experts. None of whom were answering your phones!

As I worked my way down the list of people I was calling, I hit upon Donna -- Nikki's mom, a three-time mom, and she runs her own daycare. (That sentence isn't parallel structure, but I can't figure out how to make it work and May is being really good so i won't take the time. But I do know it isn't grammatically or stylistically correct.)

Donna suggested, quite reasonably, that I should try to relieve her pain. Okay, says I. How? An oatmeal bath, says she. It helps coat and soothe the rash. Okay, I say, thinking that we're finally getting somewhere. Then I ask the important question: "Instant, quick, old-fashioned, or steel cut?"

Donna, being a kind and wonderful woman, didn't laugh. She just told me to use whatever I had on hand. "I've got all four."

So she suggested old-fashioned.

(We tried, but she really ahtes baths so it jsut made her cry more.)

Okay, May has begun her "Mommy's on the computer so I must demand attwntion," dance. Here are some photos to ease your monday. Thanks Jen H.

Adorable picture of May

Now that I've lured you in with an adorable baby, I have to ask, what are you doing to save the world for her? I mean, look at that face! If she cant' get you to make a few small changes in your life (or big ones) then you're hopeless.

The mainstream has finally gotten on board with the whole eco-thing, though it seems to be all reducing your carbon debt. I've sung this song before and you all know the words, so I won't repeat it other than to ask, with Earth Day approaching, what are you doing?

Read last week's Time for 51 thigns to do to save the world... some more feasible than others: And you know it's not just freaky fringy weird Amanda stuff cause it's in Time Magazine. I'm going to ask all of you to promise May (look at that face!) to do three things to help. C'mon, three things. That's not a lot. Here's what we're doing:

1. We're ditching plastic and paper shopping bags. We already use a lot of canvas bags for other things, but for groceries we alwasy forgot them. They were big and bulky and frankly didn't work well. Instead, we've bought string bags and plan to use those. They fold up tiny and will live in my Mom bag and Christopher's Dad bag.

Buy string bags here.

Read depressing stats on plastic bags here. No, really, click and read, damnit.

2. I'm ditching the Starbucks cups. You al know I have a small Starbucks addiction, which is fine. But I have decided that all those cups I toss are just wrong. So I bought a cup and plan to use it. If you're a regular 'Bucks or Dunkin's drinker (Barb....) go out and spend $5 on a cup and imagine the forests and the plastic you'll save.

You can even get a picture of May on it to encourage you to think globally, act locally:



3. I'm joining a C.S.A. Click here to get a list of CSAs in Connecticut. Click, damnit. That's a big commitment, but isn't she worth it? And if you can't, then you could start small. Buy your veggies at a farmer's market. Only buy produce at the local grocery store marked "organic" and "local." Tell the manager you'd like to see more local and organic produce. Buy less packaged and processed food and make your own stuff from scratch. Eat less meat. Print out this list and consult it before eating fish. Offer brisk lectures to chefs who serve sharks, orange roughy, and monkfish.

4. Buy a TerraPass. Skip bought us our first one, but once it's expired, we plan to renew.

5. Plant a tree. I know, Connecticut has a lot of trees, but lots of the country lacks them. So help a sister out. We distributed many trees last fall and will try to plant more this year.

6. Finally, vote. We did, today. I know small local elections are a pain to keep up with, it's hard to know what is happening with poor media coverage. But acting locally means more than just ditching bags and Starbucks cups. It means getting involved.

So that's my little rant for the day. I know I sound a little shrill but the news is bad and getting worse. I need ya'll to help. C'mon, she's friggin adorable. Do it for her.

May's first broom

Toddlers love to imitate their parents. It's why cell phones are s popular. May loves to "help" me sweep. (Those of you familiar with my housecleaning habits, or lack there of, will find it hard to believe but I sweep three or four times a day usually.)

Unfortunatly, a full-sized broom is too big for her to handle without whacking Mommy in the face, or knocking over things. So Grammy Grace graciously bought her her own cleaning set. (Now she smacks Mommy in the hips and thighs, but with a shorter moment arm, the thwacks hurt less.) She's very fond of it already, even though it only arrived in the mail yesterday.

Jen Hoberman actually brought it over -- our big packages go to Chez Hoberman to avoid pilferage -- and then took many photos. You can see them all by clicking here. As ever, just click the link and then click on the button that says "View Slideshow." You don't have to sign in.

Here are some quick snaps for those who don't want to bother going to the slideshow.

Because Jenna didn't believe me....

So, every morning, I clean the apartment. Depending on how long May sleeps, this can be anything from a cursory straightening of the living room to a complete once-over of the whole place, including mopping the floors in the kitchen and library. But usually I get at least the living room picked up.

When Jenna arrived yesterday at 10 a.m., May had bee up for about two hours. I said to Jenna as she came up, "Please forgive the living room. It was pristine this morning." Upon being created with the chaos that is my living room before Starbucks, she acknowledged some skeptisicm of my (admittedly highly dubious sounding) claim.

So this morning, I took a picture or two at 7:23. This is the snap of the bookcase. My camera didn't do a good job on the rest of the room, but please know that there was nothing on the floor but furniture. Here:

May woke up at 7:30. (Early-ish.) I took this picture about an hour later: (Forgive the skew and the blur.)

So there.

And, because everyone is complaining about a dearth of photos, here are some more:

A nice story of altruism

So May and I went to the mall with Auntie Nikki yesterday. We got her picture taken with the Easter Bunny. You won't be seeing the pictures because she screamed and hollered and wailed. The nice lady -- who also runs the Santa photo op -- a woman who has heard hundreds upon thousands of children freak out, a woman who has seen children who have waited in line for four hours, with parents on their fourth melt down after shopping, a woman who has seen the worst of kid-hood in horrible situations, this woman said: "I have never heard a noise like that come out of a child."

May is special. Even in extremis, she's one of a kind.

But mostly I'm here to tell you about a nice guy. I was waiting to cross Highland to get to our car (Fraulein). The crosswalk is two blocks down and two blocks back and Fraulein was right across the street, so I was prepared to wait a while since I'm not at all pushy when I don't have the magical protection fo the cross walk zebra stripes.

But some nice guy in a white van stopped and waved me a across.

I waved thanks and jogged across the street. (Please picture this: Me, with May on my hip, my mom bag over one shoulder, another bag bulging with books over one wrist, and a portfolio of papers including envelopes tucked under one arm.) And the guy started doing little attention-getting honks. At first I thought he was just looking for a further "thank you" wave. But no, he keps honking.

Turns out, May dropped her shoe in the middle of the road! Since she's only got two pair that fit now (down from four!) that would have been tragic. He then smiled and waved politely while I jogged back across the street and got the shoe.

There are nice people. I need to remember that some times.

We had a nice day today. Got to see Auntie Jenna this morning -- she's back from a trip to NYC and a visit to the Boston Ephemera show. (And looking for a 1800s parasol if anyone knows of a good vendor.) Then we went to story hour at the library and May "petted" some infant on the head so hard he cried. Anna Marie, the children's librarian, did a special round of "Tick Tock" for May because it's her favorite song. Then we had lunch, took a nice long nap (she did, I cleaned), and then we ran errands and had leek and cheve ravioli for dinner -- pan fried with carmelized onions -- and a nice melange of herbs and greens on the side.

Books Amanda's reading: White Night (good, but not good enough), Light My Fire (bad, but good), and Death by Pad Thai (interesting but uneven)

Books Christopher's reading: Utility of Force (good, but dense)

Woolapallooza!

Hello all,

This time it's the Daddy blogging.

It seems that May is particularly jealous of the computer when it comes to Manda's attention. Anytime Manda is at the computer, May wants to save her from having here face eaten by the internet...I think she learned it from the cat.

As far as our toddler in concerned, Daddy can be eaten by the internet...or maybe internets don't like the way Daddies taste?

Anyway, the past week has been pretty quiet here. The Hobermans have returned from visiting family in Texas. Seth and Sarah are now back from a trip to Seattle. My Great-Aunt Hazel passed away at 99 years old.

Yesterday we all went back out to Drumlin Farm again. This time for Woolapalooza. We saw sheep getting sheared. We followed the process of wool being cleaned, carded, dyed, spun, felted, knit, and woven into hats sweaters and various other things. There were sheep dog demonstrations and lamb chili. One woman was even spinning angora yarn directly from a rather large, rather fluffy, rather smug rabbit sitting on her lap.

Alas, we forgot to bring our camera to document any of this for you all.

On Friday we went out with Mary & Denis and their friend Andrew to celebrate Mary's 50th published poem. Bluefin restaurant was the setting and I got to experiment a bit with sushi with Mark and Denis acting as tutors. Amanda and May stayed away from the fish, but May was very happy with rice, tofu, miso soup, and even some daikon pickle.

Sunday was mostly a clean-up day. Seven loads of laundry and a full review and purge of too-small baby clothes. Eventually we have to sort out our basement storage space and start the organizing of superseded baby stuff into donate, keep, toss, and sell categories. Even the donate bin has four or five subsets for family, local friends, shelters and the like. We have been very lucky in the generosity of our family and friends; it is only proper that we pass on such generosity.

Ah well, back to work!