Oh, nothing major. Just starting out to be a rough morning in the Moose Nugget Household.
Beans was fitful most of the night, but since J was at work and Little Nugget was permanently attached to my milking apparatus, it was difficult to go check on her. Every time I was able to disengage the avid milker, Beans would settle back down and I would decide that I should let sleeping girls lie.
Hmmm.
I woke this morning VERY early to cries of "Momma! POOP! Tummy Hurts!"
And in my pre-coffee stupor, I ended up sticking my hands in poop as I helped her get out of her underpants. I decided I should turn on the lights and assess the situation, and discovered that in addition to poop, she was covered head to toe in barf.
Argh!
I left her sitting on the potty to check out the full situation. Not good.
I dunked her in the tub and seriously started praying, "God, don't let it be swine flu!"
A side note here... I called for reinforcements. They still have not arrived. One day, I will discover the correct way to communicate that we need help and you need to get home.
Apparently, saying, "Um, half the upstairs is covered in poo and puke, both girls are hysterical, I have vomit in my hair and poop on my hands and shirt. I really could use some help!" is NOT the correct way to solicit help.
The response was: "Um, like RIGHT NOW? You need help now or all day or what?"
Just then, Beans pooped in the tub and started freaking out. I didn't have time to respond, so I am pretty sure I said, "Dude. Are you serious? I said I need help. I gotta go. I've got poop and bathwater all over the floor."
I think J decided that meant I had things well under control.
And two hours later.... mostly, I do. Have things under control. Sort of. Beans has been made more comfortable with movies and Popsicles. Little Nugget stopped wailing as soon as I returned her milk supply, and is now snoozing between meals. As soon as I can stomach it, I will be stripping down the beds and starting some laundry and cleaning out bathtubs.
For the record, I don't do barf. Even when I was a paramedic, barf was just not my thing. I used to make my partner clean it up ("Ah, lowly little EMT partner... I save lives, YOU clean barf.") Seriously. And luckily, my partner had a stomach of steel and could be bribed with a free lunch.
***
The weather report here is: Cold and snowy. We've had slushy rain falling for a couple days now. Snow in the morning and evening, rainy slush in the warmer afternoons (and by "warmer", I mean like 40F). I wouldn't call it a "white out" this morning, but I will say that visibility is limited. I can't see past the end of our block this morning.
***
Alright. I am being summoned with cries of "Tummy Hurts!" again. I've got to go catch some barf.
Hope y'all are doing better than we are here.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
SNOW
That is not a misprint.
We've had our first official snowfall. And it actually stuck.
While I am one of the crazy people here that absolutely love winter, I have to admit that I felt a little sad to see that autumn (my all time favorite season) lasted a mere 10 days or so. Last week, the days were still a bit balmy and the leaves turned golden reds and yellows. A few days ago, they began to fall off the trees in large numbers. A trip to Fairbanks two days ago proved that there were more leaves on the ground than on the trees. By the time we drove home from Fairbanks, snow was falling, and by the time I got the girls tucked into bed, it looked like a Christmas card outside.
I would like to take a minute and vent about the irony of snow on the autumnal equinox. Not only is that just weird, I was not very well prepared.
Even more ironic is the fact that I was standing in Fred Meyer (the trendier version of Walmart, for those unfamiliar) eyeballing the new Columbia winter coats. I found one I loved and discovered they didn't have my size. "No problem" I think to myself, "I don't need it just yet. I'll check again the next trip."
Hmmm.
For the record, if you live in Alaska, the right time to buy your winter gear was about three days ago.
Don't worry mom, we are far from freezing. I do have my coat from last year. The one that I bought in Nearly Neon Pink because J had me convinced that if I got lost in a blizzard, I should look like a complete moron so I would be found quickly.
Now that I know I am not very likely to be somewhere that search and rescue would need to see me from the space shuttle, I am thinking of buying a coat in more subdued colors.
Beans received some great hand-me-downs... a full set of toddler arctic gear. And her Nearly Neon Pink gear (bought to match mine because if SHE got lost in the arctic wilderness, search and rescue would also see her from space and know she belonged to the moron in the matching jacket)... it still fits.
Little Nugget has plenty of warm stuff, and the truth is, um... we don't plan on doing any crazy glacier hiking or being anywhere that we need full arctic gear for her, so I think we'll all stay warm.
***
I will admit that seeing snow this early was a little tough to swallow. I DO love fall, and it just doesn't seem right to have the white stuff quite so soon.
But... it's Alaska.
And it didn't take long to slip into winter mode. Beans demanded snow boots nearly as soon as she saw the white stuff, and she and daddy had a good snowman building adventure before tromping slush through the house, demanding hot chocolates.
I spent the afternoon digging out hats and gloves for everyone else, and making a winter gear shopping list for our next trip north. This morning, temps were hovering around 20 degrees until well after the sun came up. 'Bout time for that new coat, I'd say.
Hold on tight, y'all! It's autumn in Alaska.
Also, anyone that can clear up the heated discussion about the advantages of pellet stoves vs. wood stoves (ha ha! "Heated" discussion!)... feel free to add your two cents. My personal opinion: why give up a free source of heat (wood stove) for something that costs about $5 a day to run (pellet stove)? Am I missing something here?
Until Next Time!
Happy Moose Trails
We've had our first official snowfall. And it actually stuck.
While I am one of the crazy people here that absolutely love winter, I have to admit that I felt a little sad to see that autumn (my all time favorite season) lasted a mere 10 days or so. Last week, the days were still a bit balmy and the leaves turned golden reds and yellows. A few days ago, they began to fall off the trees in large numbers. A trip to Fairbanks two days ago proved that there were more leaves on the ground than on the trees. By the time we drove home from Fairbanks, snow was falling, and by the time I got the girls tucked into bed, it looked like a Christmas card outside.
I would like to take a minute and vent about the irony of snow on the autumnal equinox. Not only is that just weird, I was not very well prepared.
Even more ironic is the fact that I was standing in Fred Meyer (the trendier version of Walmart, for those unfamiliar) eyeballing the new Columbia winter coats. I found one I loved and discovered they didn't have my size. "No problem" I think to myself, "I don't need it just yet. I'll check again the next trip."
Hmmm.
For the record, if you live in Alaska, the right time to buy your winter gear was about three days ago.
Don't worry mom, we are far from freezing. I do have my coat from last year. The one that I bought in Nearly Neon Pink because J had me convinced that if I got lost in a blizzard, I should look like a complete moron so I would be found quickly.
Now that I know I am not very likely to be somewhere that search and rescue would need to see me from the space shuttle, I am thinking of buying a coat in more subdued colors.
Beans received some great hand-me-downs... a full set of toddler arctic gear. And her Nearly Neon Pink gear (bought to match mine because if SHE got lost in the arctic wilderness, search and rescue would also see her from space and know she belonged to the moron in the matching jacket)... it still fits.
Little Nugget has plenty of warm stuff, and the truth is, um... we don't plan on doing any crazy glacier hiking or being anywhere that we need full arctic gear for her, so I think we'll all stay warm.
***
I will admit that seeing snow this early was a little tough to swallow. I DO love fall, and it just doesn't seem right to have the white stuff quite so soon.
But... it's Alaska.
And it didn't take long to slip into winter mode. Beans demanded snow boots nearly as soon as she saw the white stuff, and she and daddy had a good snowman building adventure before tromping slush through the house, demanding hot chocolates.
I spent the afternoon digging out hats and gloves for everyone else, and making a winter gear shopping list for our next trip north. This morning, temps were hovering around 20 degrees until well after the sun came up. 'Bout time for that new coat, I'd say.
Hold on tight, y'all! It's autumn in Alaska.
Also, anyone that can clear up the heated discussion about the advantages of pellet stoves vs. wood stoves (ha ha! "Heated" discussion!)... feel free to add your two cents. My personal opinion: why give up a free source of heat (wood stove) for something that costs about $5 a day to run (pellet stove)? Am I missing something here?
Until Next Time!
Happy Moose Trails
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Autumn Lights
I know, I know. It's still a day or so before the official start of autumn, but seeing how it's my favorite season, I'm ready to jump the gun.
Speaking of guns... hunting season is officially closed for all us non-subsistence hunters. We have caribou in the freezer, but no moose. J tried hard (and I have weeks of loneliness and insanity caused from being left alone with two kids under two to prove how hard he worked), but long story short... he didn't get a moose. Ah, well. It's about time for rabbit hunting, anyway.
There is a lot of local folklore about the beginning of autumn... the first day of school, the seasonal closing of the Drive-In, The start of hunting season, Snow on the Dome (which I can not confirm or deny, since the dome has not been visible much of this week due to rain). My own official start of fall is a little more, ahem... mystic. Fall starts when I feel a certain chill in the air and begin to smell wood stoves in the night. Those cues are followed by an insane urge to dig through my stash of crochet, knit, and sewing projects and find something to curl up in a chair with. When I suddenly interrupt the constant flow of coffee for a cup of hot apple cider, it's Fall.
That said, I should mention that my recent Autumn experiences have been in the Deep South. Beautiful days like today, where the temps hover around 48F and the constant rain slows to a drizzle, frankly is what Christmas in Alabama might look like. On a really cold year. (For the record, the last Christmas I spent in Alabama was 78F and sunny.)
If I had to describe a day like today to family, I would actually liken it to what a typical Halloween Day in Northern Virginia would feel like. (I mention Northern Virginia because that's where I essentially grew up.)
So, I HAVE been feeling the urge to nestle down with fall projects. I am one sleeve away from finishing a sweater I have been making... the first grown-up size sweater I've ever attempted. I generally stick to things for little people, but found a cute pattern. Besides, my blanket winning at the fair-and my mom bragging about it to all my relatives and telling me I should open an Etsy shop, kind of made me feel invincible in the land of crochet.
On the Moose Nugget Home front, great things have been happening. J might someday, eventually return home. Between hunting, overtime, and rumors of rabbit hunts and fishing trips, we haven't seen much of him.
Beans has been hard at work with home school activities. (Yes, I am homeschooling my two year old.) She's caught on quickly and really enjoys "school time", which frankly doesn't look too much different from the things we were already doing in our day, only a bit more organized and planned out.
We have also successfully completed potty training! Any kid (or grownup for that matter) that can "hold it" from Delta Junction to Fairbanks is potty trained in my book!
Little Nugget is growing in leaps and bounds as well. Not wanting to be left out, she has already figured out a little frog hopping crawl. Too bad she mostly goes backward. Many a photo opportunity is lost because she gets so frustrated that she's gone backward instead of forward. She is quickly learning to propel herself in the right direction however, which keeps Beans in a constant state of picking up and moving her toys away from her little sister.
Oh, yeah. The word "MINE" has entered our vocabulary in the Moose Nugget Household.
I hate the word "MINE" (unless it pertains to my stuff, of course!)
Beans was quick to call me on my own selfishness this week. I was preparing a bowl of coffee ice cream with chocolate syrup for no one except for me, myself, and I. Beans asked for a bite and I answered, "No, this is MINE". To my surprise, instead of the tantrum I braced for, I got a stern lecture. "No, mommy! YOU SHARE IT!"
Hmmm.... hope that ice cream was at least decaffinated. I was outwitted by a toddler.
More excitement is occurring in the Moose Nugget Household, but I'm not at liberty to discuss it...yet. I'm going with a friend's adage... "If you talk about the dream, you lose it." Just know that exciting things are in the air, and the Moose Nugget Farm could be less of a dream and more of a reality in the Hopefully Near Future.
Meanwhile, Little Nugget has propelled herself backward from every toy in the house and needs a hand scooting in the right direction. Beans is busy hoarding toys and screeching "MINE!" over who-knows-what-her-sister-tried-to-touch, and there is a rumor that J may actually make an appearance at home tomorrow, so I guess I'd better make it look like I've been cleaning and doing laundry instead of scraping school paste off the dining room table.
Mental; Note to Self: Don't ever leave the glue sticks where a toddler can get a hold of them.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Speaking of guns... hunting season is officially closed for all us non-subsistence hunters. We have caribou in the freezer, but no moose. J tried hard (and I have weeks of loneliness and insanity caused from being left alone with two kids under two to prove how hard he worked), but long story short... he didn't get a moose. Ah, well. It's about time for rabbit hunting, anyway.
There is a lot of local folklore about the beginning of autumn... the first day of school, the seasonal closing of the Drive-In, The start of hunting season, Snow on the Dome (which I can not confirm or deny, since the dome has not been visible much of this week due to rain). My own official start of fall is a little more, ahem... mystic. Fall starts when I feel a certain chill in the air and begin to smell wood stoves in the night. Those cues are followed by an insane urge to dig through my stash of crochet, knit, and sewing projects and find something to curl up in a chair with. When I suddenly interrupt the constant flow of coffee for a cup of hot apple cider, it's Fall.
That said, I should mention that my recent Autumn experiences have been in the Deep South. Beautiful days like today, where the temps hover around 48F and the constant rain slows to a drizzle, frankly is what Christmas in Alabama might look like. On a really cold year. (For the record, the last Christmas I spent in Alabama was 78F and sunny.)
If I had to describe a day like today to family, I would actually liken it to what a typical Halloween Day in Northern Virginia would feel like. (I mention Northern Virginia because that's where I essentially grew up.)
So, I HAVE been feeling the urge to nestle down with fall projects. I am one sleeve away from finishing a sweater I have been making... the first grown-up size sweater I've ever attempted. I generally stick to things for little people, but found a cute pattern. Besides, my blanket winning at the fair-and my mom bragging about it to all my relatives and telling me I should open an Etsy shop, kind of made me feel invincible in the land of crochet.
On the Moose Nugget Home front, great things have been happening. J might someday, eventually return home. Between hunting, overtime, and rumors of rabbit hunts and fishing trips, we haven't seen much of him.
Beans has been hard at work with home school activities. (Yes, I am homeschooling my two year old.) She's caught on quickly and really enjoys "school time", which frankly doesn't look too much different from the things we were already doing in our day, only a bit more organized and planned out.
We have also successfully completed potty training! Any kid (or grownup for that matter) that can "hold it" from Delta Junction to Fairbanks is potty trained in my book!
Little Nugget is growing in leaps and bounds as well. Not wanting to be left out, she has already figured out a little frog hopping crawl. Too bad she mostly goes backward. Many a photo opportunity is lost because she gets so frustrated that she's gone backward instead of forward. She is quickly learning to propel herself in the right direction however, which keeps Beans in a constant state of picking up and moving her toys away from her little sister.
Oh, yeah. The word "MINE" has entered our vocabulary in the Moose Nugget Household.
I hate the word "MINE" (unless it pertains to my stuff, of course!)
Beans was quick to call me on my own selfishness this week. I was preparing a bowl of coffee ice cream with chocolate syrup for no one except for me, myself, and I. Beans asked for a bite and I answered, "No, this is MINE". To my surprise, instead of the tantrum I braced for, I got a stern lecture. "No, mommy! YOU SHARE IT!"
Hmmm.... hope that ice cream was at least decaffinated. I was outwitted by a toddler.
More excitement is occurring in the Moose Nugget Household, but I'm not at liberty to discuss it...yet. I'm going with a friend's adage... "If you talk about the dream, you lose it." Just know that exciting things are in the air, and the Moose Nugget Farm could be less of a dream and more of a reality in the Hopefully Near Future.
Meanwhile, Little Nugget has propelled herself backward from every toy in the house and needs a hand scooting in the right direction. Beans is busy hoarding toys and screeching "MINE!" over who-knows-what-her-sister-tried-to-touch, and there is a rumor that J may actually make an appearance at home tomorrow, so I guess I'd better make it look like I've been cleaning and doing laundry instead of scraping school paste off the dining room table.
Mental; Note to Self: Don't ever leave the glue sticks where a toddler can get a hold of them.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Secret Moose Camp
I heard a phrase this week that sums up my life this month: Hunting Widow.
That sums it up, those two words.
*SIGH*
The good news is, The Mighty Hunter (J) has already returned with a caribou. More specifically, a caribou head. The edible parts are at Delta Meats, being processed into the ingredients for upcoming meals. Why the head is in the back of The Suburban (AKA, "The Junk Truck"), um, I'm not sure. Seeing as I am definitely the "gatherer" of our little "hunter/gatherer" team, I don't quite understand the concept of dead animal heads being kept for decor.
For the record, I am using my long history of being allergic to absolutely everything on the planet as the primary reason why this poor animal's head (or any other head, for that matter) will never get past our doorstep.
I made eye contact with the dead animal and, "I hope you taste better than you smell." Beans made a trip to the suburban with daddy and did a much better job at stroking the hunter's ego by oohing and aahing over the thing. I drew that line at showing the caribou head to Little Nugget.
Secretly though, I somewhat envy the ability to go out and shoot something. Being a hunting widow kind of makes you feel like shooting something is not such a bad idea.
And, for those in the lower, Alaskan Women DO hunt.
Maybe one day.
Meanwhile, I had my husband's company for about 12 hours before he turned around and trekked back to the woods on the search for moose.
For those that don't hunt, I'd like to share some new-at-a-husband-hunting wisdom.
The hunt begins with a month (or longer) of preparation. You have to sight in rifles. You have to ooh and aah over other guys' rifles. You have to come home three hours later than you promised to be home to give your wife a break because you are discussing rifles and hunting tactics. (Silly me. I thought the tactic was: Buy a gun. Find a moose. Shoot it. I was wrong.)
After your wife is thoroughly annoyed, you must then spend a week pushing her past the point of caring about a moose in the freezer by going to the woods and "glassing" for moose. This means you sit in the woods and drink beer with the fellas, and look for moose poop and stuff. This is very important. Somehow.
After that, you spend another week making sure your wife is completely losing her mind trying to hold down the fort by setting up you Secret Moose Camp.
A word about Secret Moose Camps. They are only a "secret" from your wife. From what I've heard, all the men have secret moose camps which are in plain sight of all the other guys' Secret Moose Camps. I am 90% sure this has something to do with making sure the beer is evenly distributed, but I am told this is not the case. I remain skeptical.
Only after your wife has threatened to run away and join the circus (which also coincides with Sept 1, the season opener for moose hunting), can you actually begin your hunt.
Or if you really want to go the distance and get your wife packing her clown suit in a suitcase, you tell her that you need to leave Aug 31, so you can already be in your Secret Moose Camp when the moose walks by at 12:01 am the following morning.
So now, we wait. By "we", I obviously mean me and the girls. Specifically, we are waiting for Barnum and Bailey to pick us up, because we have officially packed for the circus. At this point, I think the circus would be a relaxing change of pace. For starters, in the circus, you only have to worry about your husband falling off the tightrope. Not being eaten by bears, accidentally shooting himself, or rolling a 4-wheeler on himself.
I keep telling myself, "This moose is gonna taste great. It's totally going to be worth it."
But I'm not feeling it right now. Right now, I am a tired Hunting Widow who is totally going to begin planning my Secret Spa Camp.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
That sums it up, those two words.
*SIGH*
The good news is, The Mighty Hunter (J) has already returned with a caribou. More specifically, a caribou head. The edible parts are at Delta Meats, being processed into the ingredients for upcoming meals. Why the head is in the back of The Suburban (AKA, "The Junk Truck"), um, I'm not sure. Seeing as I am definitely the "gatherer" of our little "hunter/gatherer" team, I don't quite understand the concept of dead animal heads being kept for decor.
For the record, I am using my long history of being allergic to absolutely everything on the planet as the primary reason why this poor animal's head (or any other head, for that matter) will never get past our doorstep.
I made eye contact with the dead animal and, "I hope you taste better than you smell." Beans made a trip to the suburban with daddy and did a much better job at stroking the hunter's ego by oohing and aahing over the thing. I drew that line at showing the caribou head to Little Nugget.
Secretly though, I somewhat envy the ability to go out and shoot something. Being a hunting widow kind of makes you feel like shooting something is not such a bad idea.
And, for those in the lower, Alaskan Women DO hunt.
Maybe one day.
Meanwhile, I had my husband's company for about 12 hours before he turned around and trekked back to the woods on the search for moose.
For those that don't hunt, I'd like to share some new-at-a-husband-hunting wisdom.
The hunt begins with a month (or longer) of preparation. You have to sight in rifles. You have to ooh and aah over other guys' rifles. You have to come home three hours later than you promised to be home to give your wife a break because you are discussing rifles and hunting tactics. (Silly me. I thought the tactic was: Buy a gun. Find a moose. Shoot it. I was wrong.)
After your wife is thoroughly annoyed, you must then spend a week pushing her past the point of caring about a moose in the freezer by going to the woods and "glassing" for moose. This means you sit in the woods and drink beer with the fellas, and look for moose poop and stuff. This is very important. Somehow.
After that, you spend another week making sure your wife is completely losing her mind trying to hold down the fort by setting up you Secret Moose Camp.
A word about Secret Moose Camps. They are only a "secret" from your wife. From what I've heard, all the men have secret moose camps which are in plain sight of all the other guys' Secret Moose Camps. I am 90% sure this has something to do with making sure the beer is evenly distributed, but I am told this is not the case. I remain skeptical.
Only after your wife has threatened to run away and join the circus (which also coincides with Sept 1, the season opener for moose hunting), can you actually begin your hunt.
Or if you really want to go the distance and get your wife packing her clown suit in a suitcase, you tell her that you need to leave Aug 31, so you can already be in your Secret Moose Camp when the moose walks by at 12:01 am the following morning.
So now, we wait. By "we", I obviously mean me and the girls. Specifically, we are waiting for Barnum and Bailey to pick us up, because we have officially packed for the circus. At this point, I think the circus would be a relaxing change of pace. For starters, in the circus, you only have to worry about your husband falling off the tightrope. Not being eaten by bears, accidentally shooting himself, or rolling a 4-wheeler on himself.
I keep telling myself, "This moose is gonna taste great. It's totally going to be worth it."
But I'm not feeling it right now. Right now, I am a tired Hunting Widow who is totally going to begin planning my Secret Spa Camp.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Blue Ribbon
Hooray for me! I'm a winner!
Yup. Took a blue ribbon for the blanket I almost didn't enter because I thought it might not be good enough.
I'm proud of me!
I also wish I had entered a few of my other projects. After scoping out the competition, I think I could have put a hurtin' on the contest. Or at least earned back my fair entrance fees.
The fair was good fun, and for anyone local, there is still one more day to check it out. Beans had a fun time consuming more junk food than she has ever seen in her life, and visiting with the animals in the livestock pens.
Boy, that was FUNNY.
You know, learning the sound an animal makes is basic stuff for kids. Everyone knows a cow says, "Moo" and a pig says"Oink". But watching Beans hear these noises come from actual animals was HILARIOUS. I mean, I do a good cow impression (Hello! I am still a human milk machine!), but nothing compared to the deep sound of an actual bovine. I thought Beans was going to come out of her skin when she heard a rooster crow, and a pig snort while checking her out to see if she was edible.
We have a nightly ritual where I ask if she had a good day, and ask if she remembered what we did that day. Putting her to bed last night, I asked the usual questions.
"Did you have a good day today?"
"Um. Yesh."
"What did we do today?"
"I'm go fair!"
"That's right! We went to the fair! Do you remember what we did there?"
And darn if that girl's eyes didn't get wide and brighten as she let out the loudest and most adorable, "MOOOOOO!"
After a good giggle and mooing fest, I tucked her horse-scented little body into the bed (no time for a bath last night!) and heard a giggle anda good "Cockle-Doodle-Doo!" as I left the room.
Not to worry... she DID get a bath today, after another trip to the fair. The parade rolled through town, and though I cringe at the amount of C-A-N-D-Y Beans was able to collect and consume at the parade, I darn sure wasn't leaving until I saw the MOPS float with all my hard work on it. It took an act of congress to stop Beans from collecting candy, and after the parade passed, she still stood close to the road, waving at cars and yelling, "CANDY!!!"
We checked out a few more booths and made our way to the animal pens again, because you can't leave the fair without visiting Kate the Mule, who was the BIGGEST mule I have ever seen in my life. Seriously, she stands taller than the horses in the adjoining pen! Beans and Little Nugget and I spent the rest of the day in the company of some good friends until the sugar overload was more than I could bear.
Side note: you know you've gone "small town" when you realize you know most of the people at the fair. And also when you can spot the tourists. When I had a few minutes to reflect today, I realized it was really nice to go somewhere that the people don't just recognize you, they KNOW you. They remember to ask about your visit with your in-laws. They notice you took a prize for your blanket. They know your kids and point out that they are pushing their baby sister's stroller out the door (with little sister in it!) while you are busy looking over someone else's quilt.
So, I LOVED the fair. I have to admit that growing up in the 'burbs has limited my experience with real county fairs. In the city, they bring these little fairs into town that are mostly carnival games and rides. If there are animals involved, it's usually a pony ride pen. There's no contests, quilt shows, or cook-offs. This Deltana Fair was The Real Deal. Just like in the old stories like Charlotte's Web. It's a Wanna-Be-Farm-Girl's dream.
And dreaming, I am. I have serious land-envy and also want a pony. And chickens. And rabbits (for eating). And turkeys and my very own rooster. And I can't wait for the girls to be old enough for 4-H and FFA and looking as cute as all the 4-H girls out there in their braids and overalls, taking care of their animals at the fair.
I won't name names, but a friend I was with today (a fellow city girl) said the fair was "ok", but she couldn't do it for more than a couple years. That tweaked my sad little heart-strings, because personally, I could see myself living the small-town life for the rest of my life. I really truly do want to be the 70-something little white-haired lady at the fair, cooing at the new babies in town, passing out candy to the kids, and telling little boys to get their mitts off the Reserve Grand Champion Quilt. (And hopefully, I'll be saying that because it will be mine! HaHa!)
Speaking of quilts, I am going to give a shameless plug for my mom's new etsy shop. If you are inclined to look at some quilts (and soon, embroidery and bags!) then check out bethsblocks.etsy.com
And then please buy lots of quilts so my mom can come visit me in Alaska and maybe dad won't complain about her bazillion dollar quilting machine.
I'm going to give another shameless plug to my mom, too.
Mom grew up in a Kansas farming family. And truthfully, to hear the relatives tell it, when she was old enough she got as far away from the farm as she could. That explains why I'm mostly city girl. But mom still taught me to crochet (one stinkin' granny square at a time!), and a few other farm girl tricks, proving that you can take the girl out of the farm, but you can't wash the farm girl off of her.
I used to envy her box of ribbons for showing horses at county fairs like this one. Every time I asked about them, she always used to get a sentimental and embarrassed little look about them and shove them back into her hope chest, tucked under her childhood teddy bear and Grandpa's Purple heart.
I think I finally kind of get it. It's just a ribbon and a few bucks, but it also kind of proves that your talent matches the amount of hard work, sweat, and tears you put into what you entered.
Thanks for passing down the farm-girl heart.
I'm still on an adrenaline rush from my first blue ribbon. I made the blanket a few years ago, while I was on bed rest and waiting for Beans to safely make it into the world. It's stitched with a lot of prayers for her arrival, tears of worry on the bad days, tears of joy on the good ones, and daydreams of wrapping her up in it. It was good enough to just get her to full term and home from the hospital, and snuggle her in the blanket in the rocking chair for the first time. It was enough to tuck her into bed under it, or snuggle up in it for a story. I'm glad I now get to pass it down to her with a blue ribbon, $3 (my prize money!), and a story of my first county fair.
And since I'm on an adrenaline rush, I came home and went through all my crochet magazines and books, and began selecting items to crochet for next year. Like I said, I've got a good eye on the competition now, and plan on giving those gals a run for the prize money next time. Time to start coming up with some award winning patterns, jams, and various other projects. Good thing winter is just about on the way! (Oooh! I know Susan is gonna get me for that comment! BTW- when you come through town, call for sure! We should be home that Monday and would love to see you!)
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Thursday, July 30, 2009
When I Say Move, MOVE!
Good grief. Ya know, I grew up being an Army Brat (mom and dad are both retired!), so I know the "Hurry Up and Wait" game well.
J and I have been in a "Hurry up and Wait" mode for a couple months now. We were told at the beginning of summer that the base intended to demolish our home (and several others) to begin construction on new housing. We were advised that we would be moving "at some time in the summer". So, we waited. And waited.
Then, the phone rang.
Thursday afternoon, to be exact. J called and informed me that the movers would be arriving on MONDAY.
So, there's your "hurry up" part.
I was somewhat ill-prepared for the move. Not only had I just barely scooted my father-in-law and Other J off the premises, I had seriously committed myself to Other Activities for the weekend. There were more berries to pick, more jam to make, friends to keep play dates with, and more importantly, a float to assemble pieces for the Fair.
And even though I knew I had committed to designing these pieces for the float nearly a month prior to their due date (Wednesday), I had unintentionally procrastinated until the weekend before the Fair. Like I said, there were berries to pick, jam to make, in-laws to entertain, and play dates to keep. I mean, I could think of a hundred different ways to spend my summer days besides covered in glue and scrapbook paper with two screaming kids begging to do something besides watching Tinkerbell for the fifth time in a row. Not that my weekend went that way at all.
*Ahem*
I can hear my mom's voice in my head... the same tone as the night before my diorama was due in sixth grade, asking me exactly how long did I know I needed to construct a replica of the Roman aqueducts out of plaster of paris and where did I think I was going to find that at 7 pm on a Tuesday night.
Followed by the chuckle she has adapted since I became a grown-up... the chuckle that says, "I'm so glad I don't have to pull plaster of paris out of thin air for you now, kiddo. Ha, ha."
ANYWAY...
Against better judgement (according to whom?), I picked berries to my heart's content on Saturday. Since J was working, I went with another friend and her husband's shotgun. Little Nugget was blessedly cooperative, and slept the entire afternoon. Beans was pretty content to eat berries beside me until she and her playmate decided a sword fight with sticks was a bright idea, and Beans lost. Still, I managed to pick a decent number of berries before heading home to tend to Beans' (minor) wounds, which were mostly to her ego.
Once everyone was bandaged up, did I begin packing?
Of course NOT. I made my jam, then observed my messy, sticky kitchen with disgust. Then decided I should really start that float project.
The float project took up my entire Sunday, and I must admit that the glue had hardly finished drying when the movers arrived on Monday.
But dang, my part of the project looks good.
And Beans only had to watch Shrek three times and eat her weight in popsicles for me to finish it.
Lesson learned?
Sure. Don't agree to put together a float when berries are in season.
(Kidding!)
***
So, the movers arrived, and for some reason, it took them two days to move us less than three blocks across the base. And good thing we didn't move across the country. When J and I returned to the old place, we found several boxes worth of stuff that they forgot. Important things. Like my aprons. And various other stuff too... but that all belonged to J so, not as important as my aprons, right?
The new place is nice. We have hardwood floors now, which is a definite bonus in any house with toddlers that are potty training. After four days of me solidly cursing the movers and my husband (who did NOT deserve to be called half the names I called him, really), I have most of the house unpacked and somewhat in order. My only complaint now is that I had to be responsible and tell my friend I couldn't go berry picking because I had to unpack.
But I only did that because J told me if I went berry picking instead of unpacking, I would have to clean the old place all by myself over the weekend. With both babies in tow.
So, yeah. Moving won, despite my arguments of how berries don't pick themselves, or how J would really regret not berry picking when we eventually run out of jam (um, probably in like three years, at the rate I've been making jam).
Around 5 pm today, life returned to somewhat normal for us. Being Thursday, we had to stop everything and go pick up our organic produce box. We desperately needed the breather... J and I were hollering really nasty comments about where laundry baskets belong at that point in time. (Boy, you can argue about some ridiculous stuff when you are moving, ya know?)
The drive relaxed both of us a bit, and mercifully lulled one crying baby to sleep. The other baby was content to sing her own special version of the ABCs in the backseat, so all was well in the Moose Nugget household.
We took advantage of the break, and extended it to an impromptu barbecue, putting steaks on the grill and adding some grille zucchini and a salad. Beans was thrilled to be released from indoors, so we had a nice dinner at the picnic table, then watered the few plants that survived the move and colored with sidewalk chalk.
Yup. Sidewalk chalk makes it official... we are moved in.
***
Met some new neighbors while we were out playing. Fellow homeschoolers and newbies. Seem like nice folks and looking forward to spending time with them.
Not much else to report from here. Moose Nugget plans for the weekend involve getting to the Fair in time to stand in awe of my awesome project, and admire how the other gals involved made my part look a lot nicer than it really is. Also enjoying some Fair fun, and checking in the needlework tent to see if I've won a prize... I entered one of my crochet blankets in the Fair for judging, so here's hoping!
Also some plans to FINALLY meet the new school principal's wife! Only been planning on that for a few months now!
That's the update from this side of the neighborhood!
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
J and I have been in a "Hurry up and Wait" mode for a couple months now. We were told at the beginning of summer that the base intended to demolish our home (and several others) to begin construction on new housing. We were advised that we would be moving "at some time in the summer". So, we waited. And waited.
Then, the phone rang.
Thursday afternoon, to be exact. J called and informed me that the movers would be arriving on MONDAY.
So, there's your "hurry up" part.
I was somewhat ill-prepared for the move. Not only had I just barely scooted my father-in-law and Other J off the premises, I had seriously committed myself to Other Activities for the weekend. There were more berries to pick, more jam to make, friends to keep play dates with, and more importantly, a float to assemble pieces for the Fair.
And even though I knew I had committed to designing these pieces for the float nearly a month prior to their due date (Wednesday), I had unintentionally procrastinated until the weekend before the Fair. Like I said, there were berries to pick, jam to make, in-laws to entertain, and play dates to keep. I mean, I could think of a hundred different ways to spend my summer days besides covered in glue and scrapbook paper with two screaming kids begging to do something besides watching Tinkerbell for the fifth time in a row. Not that my weekend went that way at all.
*Ahem*
I can hear my mom's voice in my head... the same tone as the night before my diorama was due in sixth grade, asking me exactly how long did I know I needed to construct a replica of the Roman aqueducts out of plaster of paris and where did I think I was going to find that at 7 pm on a Tuesday night.
Followed by the chuckle she has adapted since I became a grown-up... the chuckle that says, "I'm so glad I don't have to pull plaster of paris out of thin air for you now, kiddo. Ha, ha."
ANYWAY...
Against better judgement (according to whom?), I picked berries to my heart's content on Saturday. Since J was working, I went with another friend and her husband's shotgun. Little Nugget was blessedly cooperative, and slept the entire afternoon. Beans was pretty content to eat berries beside me until she and her playmate decided a sword fight with sticks was a bright idea, and Beans lost. Still, I managed to pick a decent number of berries before heading home to tend to Beans' (minor) wounds, which were mostly to her ego.
Once everyone was bandaged up, did I begin packing?
Of course NOT. I made my jam, then observed my messy, sticky kitchen with disgust. Then decided I should really start that float project.
The float project took up my entire Sunday, and I must admit that the glue had hardly finished drying when the movers arrived on Monday.
But dang, my part of the project looks good.
And Beans only had to watch Shrek three times and eat her weight in popsicles for me to finish it.
Lesson learned?
Sure. Don't agree to put together a float when berries are in season.
(Kidding!)
***
So, the movers arrived, and for some reason, it took them two days to move us less than three blocks across the base. And good thing we didn't move across the country. When J and I returned to the old place, we found several boxes worth of stuff that they forgot. Important things. Like my aprons. And various other stuff too... but that all belonged to J so, not as important as my aprons, right?
The new place is nice. We have hardwood floors now, which is a definite bonus in any house with toddlers that are potty training. After four days of me solidly cursing the movers and my husband (who did NOT deserve to be called half the names I called him, really), I have most of the house unpacked and somewhat in order. My only complaint now is that I had to be responsible and tell my friend I couldn't go berry picking because I had to unpack.
But I only did that because J told me if I went berry picking instead of unpacking, I would have to clean the old place all by myself over the weekend. With both babies in tow.
So, yeah. Moving won, despite my arguments of how berries don't pick themselves, or how J would really regret not berry picking when we eventually run out of jam (um, probably in like three years, at the rate I've been making jam).
Around 5 pm today, life returned to somewhat normal for us. Being Thursday, we had to stop everything and go pick up our organic produce box. We desperately needed the breather... J and I were hollering really nasty comments about where laundry baskets belong at that point in time. (Boy, you can argue about some ridiculous stuff when you are moving, ya know?)
The drive relaxed both of us a bit, and mercifully lulled one crying baby to sleep. The other baby was content to sing her own special version of the ABCs in the backseat, so all was well in the Moose Nugget household.
We took advantage of the break, and extended it to an impromptu barbecue, putting steaks on the grill and adding some grille zucchini and a salad. Beans was thrilled to be released from indoors, so we had a nice dinner at the picnic table, then watered the few plants that survived the move and colored with sidewalk chalk.
Yup. Sidewalk chalk makes it official... we are moved in.
***
Met some new neighbors while we were out playing. Fellow homeschoolers and newbies. Seem like nice folks and looking forward to spending time with them.
Not much else to report from here. Moose Nugget plans for the weekend involve getting to the Fair in time to stand in awe of my awesome project, and admire how the other gals involved made my part look a lot nicer than it really is. Also enjoying some Fair fun, and checking in the needlework tent to see if I've won a prize... I entered one of my crochet blankets in the Fair for judging, so here's hoping!
Also some plans to FINALLY meet the new school principal's wife! Only been planning on that for a few months now!
That's the update from this side of the neighborhood!
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Overcoming the Fear of Berries
Or more specifically, overcoming the fear of berry picking.
No, no. The berries themselves are not frightening, but the large mammals that eat them are.
I finally convinced J to put together his new shotgun and take the girls and I blueberry picking. We headed out with another friend of ours and her children, and armed with the shotgun and a couple large bowls, set off for Alaska's bounty.
We were definitely IN bear country but found a nice open meadow with enough berries for everyone, and came home with enough blueberries to put up twelve jars of jam and a few cups of berries in the freezer. The kids all came home with blue poop (you wanted to know that, right?), which is a good sign that we ate as many as we harvested. I spent yesterday evening washing berries and making jam, and planning our next trip to a few more berry patches we scoped out along the way. Now that I know what the plants look like, I am realizing we have been passing up a good number of potential harvest sights!
And (thankfully), saw not one single bear or other berry eating mammals.
The girls and I set out again today with a friend to pick more strawberries. This afternoon's agenda involves strawberry-apricot jam, since I have a large number of apricots from our farm boxes this week. Berry picking was short, but plentiful today, and only involved one mishap, when Beans wandered off into the woods. I spent a couple minutes in a panic, but thanks to her bright pink jacket (which I only put on her as an afterthought today! GULP!), she was quickly found with the help of my friend.
Lesson learned: Always wear bright colors, and look up from the berries a little more frequently. Missing a kid in the woods is the quickest way to feel your throat drop to the pit of your stomach. This post will never do justice the the feelings that hit you when you find your little one and hold her close, and suddenly experience a mix of relief and anger at the same time.
And little Beans? Not frightened by her adventure. Nope. She threw a tantrum when I demanded that she come out of the woods at once and stay close to mommy.
Figures.
But thank goodness she is safe!
***
The rest of our week was fun. Pops and Other J enjoyed the fishing trip, and the guys came back with a good forty or fifty pounds of fish and shrimp (prawns, really!) for the freezer. The guys returned smelling of campfire and fish. J and I stayed up until 1 am cleaning and packaging fish. Halibut, China Rock Fish, Black Bass, and Quill Back, along with fifty very large prawns are now residing in my freezer. Looks like we'll need another freezer before hunting season starts, but that should get us through a good bit of the winter. J is checking the fishing reports this week, and may be heading out for salmon in the next week or two.
After packing everything for the freezer, I finally got a moment to check out the pictures, and I have to admit, I have a serious case of envy! The guys claim to have spotted two whales, and have pictures of seals (seals!) and icebergs! They were telling stories of hauling smaller icebergs to shore, and using that for their ice supply. The camp site was amazing, and even had me wishing I were brave enough for tent camping.
While we won't be going as hardcore as the fellas were, I have insisted that J bring me to Valdez before the end of summer for a night or two of (RV) camping.
Monday was a day of recuperation for the guys, and we spent the day driving Pops and Other J around Delta, showing them the general area. Pops, being from a farm in North Dakota, was especially impressed with the agricultural area of Delta, and hugely impressed with Clearwater River and the lake it empties into. We wrapped up our day with a trip to the park for Beans, and ordering pizza from Birch Brothers, our new little pizza shop in town.
Tuesday, Pops and J decided that it would be best to spend the night in Fairbanks, since their flight left early in the morning on Wednesday. We loaded up the girls and both cars, and made it a day of shopping. We wrapped up with another trip to the Salmon Bake, and headed to the hotel.
We were ready to make goodbyes, when Pops locked the keys to the rental car in the trunk. Oops. J and I headed to the airport for the extra set of keys, and while it took a little time, we eventually said our tearful goodbyes and headed home.
I love living in Alaska, but saying goodbye to family always makes me wish we were a bit closer. I'm already looking forward to the next trip, and missing Pops and Other J terribly.
***
So now, with everyone gone, the weekend plan is to get the house back in order, get the girls back on their routines, and then finish up my obligations for the Fair. I have my assignments for the MOPS float, and there is lots of cutting and pasting to do around here. Also, more jam making, scarf knitting, and various other projects that have deadlines looming in the near future. Should prove to be a busy weekend, and next week should be full of more berry picking, jam making, and float construction.
On that note, I have kids and jam to tend to, so...
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
No, no. The berries themselves are not frightening, but the large mammals that eat them are.
I finally convinced J to put together his new shotgun and take the girls and I blueberry picking. We headed out with another friend of ours and her children, and armed with the shotgun and a couple large bowls, set off for Alaska's bounty.
We were definitely IN bear country but found a nice open meadow with enough berries for everyone, and came home with enough blueberries to put up twelve jars of jam and a few cups of berries in the freezer. The kids all came home with blue poop (you wanted to know that, right?), which is a good sign that we ate as many as we harvested. I spent yesterday evening washing berries and making jam, and planning our next trip to a few more berry patches we scoped out along the way. Now that I know what the plants look like, I am realizing we have been passing up a good number of potential harvest sights!
And (thankfully), saw not one single bear or other berry eating mammals.
The girls and I set out again today with a friend to pick more strawberries. This afternoon's agenda involves strawberry-apricot jam, since I have a large number of apricots from our farm boxes this week. Berry picking was short, but plentiful today, and only involved one mishap, when Beans wandered off into the woods. I spent a couple minutes in a panic, but thanks to her bright pink jacket (which I only put on her as an afterthought today! GULP!), she was quickly found with the help of my friend.
Lesson learned: Always wear bright colors, and look up from the berries a little more frequently. Missing a kid in the woods is the quickest way to feel your throat drop to the pit of your stomach. This post will never do justice the the feelings that hit you when you find your little one and hold her close, and suddenly experience a mix of relief and anger at the same time.
And little Beans? Not frightened by her adventure. Nope. She threw a tantrum when I demanded that she come out of the woods at once and stay close to mommy.
Figures.
But thank goodness she is safe!
***
The rest of our week was fun. Pops and Other J enjoyed the fishing trip, and the guys came back with a good forty or fifty pounds of fish and shrimp (prawns, really!) for the freezer. The guys returned smelling of campfire and fish. J and I stayed up until 1 am cleaning and packaging fish. Halibut, China Rock Fish, Black Bass, and Quill Back, along with fifty very large prawns are now residing in my freezer. Looks like we'll need another freezer before hunting season starts, but that should get us through a good bit of the winter. J is checking the fishing reports this week, and may be heading out for salmon in the next week or two.
After packing everything for the freezer, I finally got a moment to check out the pictures, and I have to admit, I have a serious case of envy! The guys claim to have spotted two whales, and have pictures of seals (seals!) and icebergs! They were telling stories of hauling smaller icebergs to shore, and using that for their ice supply. The camp site was amazing, and even had me wishing I were brave enough for tent camping.
While we won't be going as hardcore as the fellas were, I have insisted that J bring me to Valdez before the end of summer for a night or two of (RV) camping.
Monday was a day of recuperation for the guys, and we spent the day driving Pops and Other J around Delta, showing them the general area. Pops, being from a farm in North Dakota, was especially impressed with the agricultural area of Delta, and hugely impressed with Clearwater River and the lake it empties into. We wrapped up our day with a trip to the park for Beans, and ordering pizza from Birch Brothers, our new little pizza shop in town.
Tuesday, Pops and J decided that it would be best to spend the night in Fairbanks, since their flight left early in the morning on Wednesday. We loaded up the girls and both cars, and made it a day of shopping. We wrapped up with another trip to the Salmon Bake, and headed to the hotel.
We were ready to make goodbyes, when Pops locked the keys to the rental car in the trunk. Oops. J and I headed to the airport for the extra set of keys, and while it took a little time, we eventually said our tearful goodbyes and headed home.
I love living in Alaska, but saying goodbye to family always makes me wish we were a bit closer. I'm already looking forward to the next trip, and missing Pops and Other J terribly.
***
So now, with everyone gone, the weekend plan is to get the house back in order, get the girls back on their routines, and then finish up my obligations for the Fair. I have my assignments for the MOPS float, and there is lots of cutting and pasting to do around here. Also, more jam making, scarf knitting, and various other projects that have deadlines looming in the near future. Should prove to be a busy weekend, and next week should be full of more berry picking, jam making, and float construction.
On that note, I have kids and jam to tend to, so...
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
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