I did the math last night: 20 minutes per pound meant 4 hours and 45 minutes in the oven, and so I set my alarm for 5am to have the turkey in the oven by 6, and laid back down for a bit before the girls came running into our room.

Imagine my surprise then when I went to baste the bird and found the button popped and the meat quite literally sliding off the bones into the roasting pan – an hour ahead of schedule. That was a new one for me, being early with the meal.

We departed from several tradtions this year, foregoing the mashed potatoes and bread and green bean casserole, and opting for a marinated bean salad and carrots with chives instead. Red cabbage, stuffing and gravy from scratch, and real homemade whipped cream on our pie. No cream of something soups or overly processed ingredients, and we’ve all seemed to avoid the bloat.

And in other ways, we honored the traditions of times passed. We brought the Coolidge dishes out of storage for our meal – the simple pattern that laid the table of J’s great-grandmother all through my mother-in-law’s childhood. Our turkey sizzled in a roasting pan gifted to J’s grandmother on the occasion of her wedding to his grandpa; it still lives in its original box, and looks like new.

We ate early, and J is already off to his shift at the hospital, working the holiday as so many do. My parents are gone, my girls are sleeping, and I’ve just finished my second piece of pie, watching the Macy’s parade replay.

A calm and simple day with family. I wish the same for you and yours!

An unintended break, but a break nonetheless. Not so much because I consciously felt a need for time away, but perhaps because in the wake of a contentious election and the subsequent oversharing by everyone else, I needed some quiet time to draw inward, to listen and read and absorb. And wait. Wait and see.

And then I went out of town for work, a whirlwind trip that thrust me back into a different world from the one in which I live day to day. I wore heels and pearls and lipstick, and funnily enough, still felt very much myself, if a bit out of practice. It’s a strange dichotomy.

I was, once again, very glad to get home and back into my mama uniform of yoga pants and flannel shirts. We’re prepping for wintry weather here, as things have taken a chilly turn the past several days. The trees are all bare now, and we had our first dusting of snow over the weekend. I stepped outside this evening to visit the chickens, tucking those beloved yoga pants into my boots without socks, and didn’t bother with gloves – a decision I quickly regretted. It is time to make hats and mittens our standard attire. Even Stubby is wearing his sweater to go outside now.

Big Barred Rock and Buttercup
Buttercup, Big, Pinky and Cinderella

Speaking of chickens, we have three new girls – Marigold, Daisy and Daffodil. I believe Marigold is a Golden Comet, and the other two are Barred Rocks, though in naming them, Swee was not clear who was who, so we’ve simply been referring to them as Big and Little. We purchased them from a family who was selling off their little flock, and its estimated that they’re about 2 years old. It’s unclear yet if they’re laying, though I think at least one of them is. Our original three girls lay medium brown eggs, and we’ve begun getting a pale cream colored egg every now and again that I’m assuming is from one of the newbies. With the shorter days, we’re down to 1 or 2 eggs per day; yesterday, we didn’t get any. They’re sweet chickens, and don’t mind being picked up unlike our first three. I’ll have to track down Little and Marigold tomorrow for photos – they were hiding in the coop tonight, scared by the lawnmower.

Dottie on his final day

The whole coop is much calmer with Dottie gone. He was a handsome fellow, but I am glad we don’t have to worry about him any longer. The girls are excited to see me in the morning now, and I haven’t witnessed any scuffles in the run. I made them a pan of nice warm oatmeal this afternoon with strawberry tops and crusts from several peanut butter sandwiches mixed in. They loved it.

J tidied up the yard and shed this weekend, putting away the furniture and toys and wading pool. I brought my thyme and geraniums into the laundry room, but have to figure out what to do with my pot of strawberries and my chives. It looks so empty outside now, the gardens bare and the leaves all gone.

How are you preparing for the coming cold?

I woke up to a mess this morning. Both sides of the double sink were full of pots and pans, and the dishwasher was packed with more dirty dishes. We didn’t even have any clean butter knives to spread peanut butter on the girls’ waffles; I used a spoon. After voting last night, we walked from the community center to the store and bought a couple of six packs before heading home to turn on the tv. This morning, the evidence of that decision was all over the counters, empty. We had eaten a late lunch yesterday, and I couldn’t find the gumption to cook an actual meal, so Snacky Dinner it was: popcorn and craisins, yogurt and apples, pita chips with hummus. Our stuck-up Schnauzer has decided he’s too good to clean up the food his girls drop, and so our living room rug looked like something exploded. A huge pile of laundry was sitting in front of the washer. And yet, I am thankful we have enough to eat to make such a mess, enough to wear that I have to wash it.

We will clean up this mess, together. 

J killed the rooster this morning. We offered Dottie for adoption in multiple places though phone calls and Facebook, but no one wanted him, and he had to go: he attacked Beanie, raking his claws down her back, and my children, my girls, are my priority. She was not seriously injured, but we couldn’t let her near the coop any more without him puffing up and flying at the fence. He even came after me the other night while I was grilling, and that was the last straw. I will not be afraid of the animals who are supposed to be providing for our family. We didn’t have time to prep him for the freezer, and so into the ground he went, back to the earth to nourish new life in the spring. I am thankful I have a husband who is not afraid of hard work, who is willing to stand up and do what needs to be done, again and again, to take care of his family.

We will protect our children, together. 

Maybe I’m kicking a dead horse, but I have to say again how happy I am that we landed in this tiny town. One of our neighbors is organizing a recurring Sunday soup swap at the community center, and invited us to join in. It will be a time to share conversation and break bread together, to warm ourselves and each other with good food and good company, to parent our children as a village and help our neighbors nourish their bodies and their souls. It’s a beautiful idea, and it couldn’t have come at a better time. I am thankful that we chose a kind and loving place to call home.

We will care for our neighbors, and come together as a community. We will love one another, and we will teach our children by example. We will work hard. We will support the helpers. And we will be the change. Together.

 

 

 

My brother had an early flight out and on to his new duty station last Saturday, so I took him to the airport before the sun came up. As I drove the dark and empty roads home, I realized that I probably ought to stop for bread, being that we were out, but I was already past the edge of “town” and well on my way into our tiny village where the store doesn’t open until 7am.

So I raced the dawn over the hills and through the trees. I could see it growing in my rearview mirror, a pale background peeking through the dark stripes of clouds. And I won. I parked at our town beach before the light reached our valley, the lake still inky and steaming. I breathed in the damp chill of the morning and reveled in the silence (oh, the silence!), and then wandered down to the cafe. They have a great view from their backyard, and despite only having my iPhone, I caught the sunrise reflected in the water. Gorgeous and peaceful.

The women inside were just opening for breakfast, and we chatted about the beautiful pink sky as I got more coffee and used their restroom. I dawdled my way through town and stopped to see the stream. It’s finally running and bubbling again after being dry for months. Such a welcome sight and sound.

I bought my bread, and smiled my way back to my car and home to my family to meet the day.

 

I drained my travel mug, but refilled my cup, and you can’t put a price on that.

My mom is an amazingly crafty person. I don’t remember ever having a fully store-bought costume – the kind that comes as a one-piece suit with a mask, or what have you. Sure, as we got older, some of the accessories for our costumes were purchased items, but by and large, our Halloween attire was either entirely hand crafted, or cobbled together with odds and ends from the dress-up bin and around the house. It worked for us. One year, my brother even won a contest for his “banshee” get-up: a cape, a crazy old wig, and googly eyes that he had to squint his face around to hold in place.

Overall, I believe in doing what keeps you sane. Last year, I couldn’t get it together to create costumes, and while I wasn’t happy, it also wasn’t the end of the world. The girls were happy. And if the crafty stuff isn’t your thing, that’s cool. We’ve all got a place to shine, yes?

Well, this is my place. I love Halloween. Not for the fear and the gore and the grotesque, but for the creativity! The opportunity to create. I love the details – the right high-button boots, the authentic Army surplus jacket, the period hairstyle. I love the challenge of pulling it all together with minimal financial investment (hooray for avoiding consumerism), and I think it teaches a good lesson on being resourceful.

I got it together this year, and my littles dressed as the Very Hungry Caterpillar and the Beautiful Butterfly. I spent a whopping total of $19 on red hats, felt for eyes, posterboard and tissue paper for wings, and ribbon to tie both costumes on. We had everything else, and I have a little bit of all the purchased materials left over for future projects.

Everything was freehanded. I made patterns for the wings and caterpillar body out of craft paper, and went from there.

All of the green fabric came from a stash, either mine or my mom’s, and I lined the body with pieces of an old green shirt of hers. Before starting, I had Swee lie down on the paper, and marked her shoulders, waist and knees for reference before sketching out the shape of the body. Rough strips of the green were patchworked together to make segments, and then two pieces were cut out, front and back. I stitched ribbon ties between the segments and the lining at the shoulders and hips so that it would fit over warm clothes (it’s chilly here in Maine!), turned it all right side out, and top-stitched all the way around. I would have liked to stuff the segments to make them fluffy, but ran out of time…and brain power.

The wings are made from a sheet of posterboard with bits of tissue paper decoupaged in layers on top. I referenced the book’s illustrations to mimic the color scheme, but didn’t worry too much about being exact. And I used plain old Elmer’s to glue felt eyes onto the hats. Everything held up pretty well.

We had a good time trick or treating in our little village, and the girls were happy. They cruised around in their wagon and practiced their manners at each doorstep. Our town events committee organized snacks and games in the Community Center, and a “trunk or treat” on the town beach since there aren’t many houses in the village. The library had crafts and the fire department gave out treat bags. We ducked out before the costume contest, and went home to sort our loot before falling into bed. As we were snuggling, Swee began a litany of what she wants to be next year, and the year after that, and the year after that…

My youngest brother is here for the week, and my girls are just beside themselves. I picked him up at the airport last night, and they’ve been crawling all over him since. He’s on his way to his new duty station after spending two years in Germany, not far from our middle brother and his young family, and stopped here in Maine to see us. We’re excited to have him for keeps when his enlistment ends, a little more than a year from now.

While J did homework and the girls hung out with their uncle and grandparents, I drove over to help a friend set up for the winter clothing swap she was hosting today. She’s the owner of the yoga studio here, and I love the way she uses her space to support the community. I’ve never attended a swap, and though I love the idea, I was a little skeptical as to whether people would embrace the spirit of the event and bring useful items to share rather than keeping them to sell themselves. Happily, they did, far beyond what I expected. So many useful items! I didn’t have much to swap for adults, but had some little girls’ clothes and shoes, and a pair of brand new work boots that never quite fit J. I came home with sneakers and boots for the girls, boots and a couple of tops for myself, and a really great chunky sweater. Even more, I got to spend a little bit of time chatting with the mamas of our community, and experience the kindness of those bringing items specifically with my girls in mind. A hot cup of tea, a lot of smiles and chatter, and I was on my way home again.

We did a little internet research today, out of curiosity about our adopted home state and after casually chatting about where my brother might settle when he separates from the Army. In terms of population density, we grew up in the 9th most populated state (Pennsylvania) and moved here from the 5th most densely populated state (Maryland). Maine drops in close to the bottom ten at #38; according to the 2010 census, we live in the least populated state east of the Mississippi River. And while the large western states have the most military veterans purely by number, here in Maine, roughly one in ten people are vets. Some interesting statistics that support much of what we’ve determined anecdotally since moving here.

Tonight we’re belatedly celebrating my mom’s birthday with cake and family, the first time this crew of us have been in the same place in over a year. I’d love to hear how your weekend went, and what you’re hoping for in the days ahead!

 

 

I didn’t have the wherewithal to tackle my office last weekend. I walked in with a cup of coffee (#4 for the morning, if you must know), looked around, and walked back out. I even closed the door behind me. I just couldn’t do it; it was too much for the day.

Instead, I took Stubby for a nice long walk. I lingered in the shower, wasting hot water just because it felt good. And then I tidied my side of the bedroom. I put all of my laundry away, and chucked all of the “potentially important, but probably not” paperwork that had wound up there. I cleaned out a tote of random stuff that had been collecting dust for eons, and finished unpacking my suitcase from our trip at the beginning of the month. I even organized the top of my dresser a bit, though I didn’t dust. Gotta draw the line somewhere, you know.

It’s been a week of setting up the pins and knocking them down. I’ve completed an entire To Do list, and am working through a second, which is unheard of around these parts since having children. To be fair, a lot of the items are basics like making my car payment, and having oil delivered. But there were a few items that felt good to get accomplished.

While J worked on prepping the chicken coop for winter the other morning, I took a little bit of time to scrub one of those cast iron skillets he had acquired for me. The weather was gorgeous, so we worked together in the yard while Beans played in the sandbox and had us take breaks to find “buried treasure.” I managed to get most of the rust off, and it’s now tucked in the shed, covered in oven cleaner and wrapped in a trash bag to strip off the layers of use. Tomorrow or Sunday I’ll begin to re-season it.

And today, I finished two trick-or-treat bags! The fabric was purchased on sale the day after Halloween in 2014, washed and folded, and tucked away until I finally had time to put them together. Last year, the girls ended up using paper gift bags that I decorated a bit, and I kicked myself the whole time for not getting these finished. It felt really good to put the final stitches in them today! I followed the Nested Fabric Buckets tutorial on Whipstitch, opting for the medium size, and made a few changes as I went. In my mama fog, I bought medium/heavy fusible interfacing, rather than the batting the pattern called for, so these are not quite as cushy as they might have been, but I think that works to their advantage. I went with a single strap, and used webbing instead of making handles out of the main fabric. I made sure that the ends were stitched inside the lining a solid inch or so, and reinforced each side with a big stitched X. The last thing I want to have happen is for the strap to tear loose when the bucket is loaded down with treats! I had Swee test it by filling it up with Little People, and it seemed good and strong.

The instructions were really easy to follow. I think the hardest part was cutting out all of the pieces and keeping them straight before putting them together. My hope is that the girls can use these for many years to come! Now, to figure out the costumes to go with them…

What did you accomplish this week? 

I’m writing from the kitchen table this morning. I’m assuming my poor husband fell asleep over his Nutrition homework last night since he is still asleep on the couch despite the noise and movement around him. His spot in the bed was filled by our two-year-old and our Schnauzer, both snuggled in through the night. We’re all moving a bit slowly this weekend, working through what I can only call grief.

The girls and I went to a harvest potluck last night under the Hunter’s Supermoon. Adult conversation came in bits and snatches as I had to fly solo, and mine were two of the youngest littles in attendance. It was nice to connect, however brief each interaction was. And I received some much needed affirmation that we did the right thing for our Cody by not waiting until Death came knocking before easing his transition. I’ve been wrestling with the weight of our choice, alternately sobbing and feeling at ease. Two very kind mamas shared their own experiences, and though I’m afraid in the moment I was not able to be coherent and gracious, it really did help.

It was really nice to see everyone come together and watch the children of the town run in a pack, playing Manhunt in the moonlight. One wonderful young lady (yep, I sound like my mom) kept track of my oldest for a bit so that Beanie and I could run inside to gather our belongings. Sweebee’s in this odd place now, somewhere between the babies and the big kids, too big to want to hang with the potty-training set, and just a bit young to run with the pack. Swee let me know that her “Big Girl Friend” held her hand or “upped” her the whole time, which amounted to maybe ten minutes. She was so pleased to be able to stay out with the big kids for a few minutes, and mama got a wee bit of practice in loosening her hold. I remarked to our hostess as we were leaving that clearly it was a much needed gathering, for all of us.

 

And in all of this, the biggest news of the week got lost. We have eggs! Wednesday, Friday, yesterday, and this morning – all in the same nesting box, presumably all laid by the Pinkster herself, as she’s the only one we’ve seen going in and out. The first was a really nice size, somewhere between medium and large I’d say. The rest have been a bit smaller, but all with strong shells and good, dark yolks. Today’s was still warm in my hand when I walked up the hill to bring it inside. Less than an hour later, it was in the pan for J’s breakfast. Definitely farm to table.

So here we are at the start of another week. My girls have been spending a couple of hours with my parents on Sunday mornings, which has quickly become such a blessing. I’m not quite sure what I’ll do with today’s free time yet, but the stack of projects is pretty tall and my office is a disaster area. Organizing my personal space could be yet another definition of “self-care,” and goodness knows that’s needed right now. Maybe I’ll start there.

 

 

 

2006

2016

There’s a hole in our hearts and our home today. We said goodbye to our Cody yesterday morning, and I finally understand why people get another dog so soon after losing one. It feels empty around here, even with two kids and a Schnauzer.

We miss you, little man. Run free.

No words needed.