Author: brookeshelf

Career Paths

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Tonight at bedtime I read stories to Jeffrey while Brian read stories to William.  (Eleanor was already down in bed with the flu.)  For some reason, William was not keen on the idea of stories from Brian tonight, and kicked up a great big noisy fuss.

Jeffrey, on hearing the various screams coming from William’s room, simply shook his head.

“You know what?  Daddy should have been a dentist instead of a doctor.”

Oh?  Why was that?

“If he was a dentist, then he would be able to help Wimmy with his screaming.” 

Pressed for details, Jeffrey furrowed his brow in concentration, and tried to explain.  “Daddy should be a dentist because the screams are coming from William’s mouth.”

Well.  That’s simply logic, that is.  If only I had known before now that a toddler’s screams could be mollified by a dentist!

“Yeah, Daddy should have gone down the dentist trail instead of the doctor trail,” he concluded with the kind of sage nod of the head that is wonderfully hilarious on a person wearing Spider Man pajamas.

Apple Fritters

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applesWhen Brian and I moved into Retro Acres, we discovered an apple tree in the backyard and an electric cast-iron skillet in the kitchen.

Although I wasn’t very thrilled by either prospect — our house in Pittsburgh had a crabapple tree that caused us no end of rotten-fruit annoyance, and the skillet seemed like just one more appliance to clutter the kitchen — my mother convinced me otherwise.

Come October, she said, the hard green bumps in the tree would morph into sweet deep-red lumps of awesome, and the skillet is an excellent device for deep frying foods — no splatters, constant temperature.

What better circumstances for cooking apple fritters?  They’re golden brown nuggets of sugary goodness, they are.  I’ve had a couple of friends request that I post good recipes on this blog, so here’s my first. 

My recipe is adapted from Martha W. Murphy’s excellent The Bed & Breakfast Cookbook, which I highly recommend picking up.

Apple Fritters

  • 2 cups flour
  • 2 tsp. baking powder
  • 1/2 tsp. salt
  • 6 Tbs. sugar
  • 1/2 cup milk
  • 2 eggs
  • 2 cups peeled, cored apples, chopped fine (about two big apples)
  • cinnamon and sugar, for rolling

In a big bowl, mix together flour, powder, salt, and sugar.  Measure the milk in a big liquid measuring cup or small bowl, add the eggs, and whisk together.  Gradually pour liquid ingredients into dry, mixing well to prevent lumps.  Use a rubber spatula to stir in the apples.

In a skillet, heat up 1″ of oil to approximately 340 degrees F.  Drop a little bit of batter in the oil while it preheats — when it begins to bubble, puff up, and brown, then the oil is ready for cooking.

Have a paper-towel-lined plate and a shallow bowl of cinnamon sugar ready.  Drop heaping tablespoons of batter into the oil and cook for 2-3 minutes per side.  When cooked, they should be about 4-5″ across, and a deep golden-brown.  You may have to experiment to get them right; I find that making them on the small side prevents a doughy center.  If made correctly, the outside should be brown and crisp, and the inside soft, fluffy, and studded with apples.

Drain the fritters on the paper towels for a moment, then roll in the cinnamon sugar.  This makes roughly 1 1/2 dozen hot ‘n’ tasty fritters.  Mmmm.

Eleanor says that I am “the best mom ever ever ever” (pounding fist on the table for each “ever”) “who makes fritters.”  Brian calls apple fritters “the breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snack of champions.”  William screamed when we thought he was finished and tried to take his plate away.  Jeffrey didn’t say anything, but has learned to snatch up fritters with cat-like reflexes.  I think my diet’s ruined, but that’s nothing new (I am down 12 pounds, if I do say so myself.

Arches and Canyonlands in October

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Hooray for the Utah Educator’s Association!

They schedule their annual conference for the first weekend in October, giving all the schoolchildren in the state a four day weekend.  Brian and I decided to take one last camping trip for the season and head down to Arches and Canyonlands National Parks in southern Utah.

Arches 2009 moon2

The only downside to our plan is that the first big cold front of the year swept into town the day before we were supposed to leave.  We had a 1/4 inch of snow on the ground the morning we were packing!  Not very encouraging.  But despite the sleepless nights (for me; I can’t sleep when there’s a draft anywhere around) and very cold mornings (William started screaming when his hands turned purple, so we ended up going to a diner for breakfast two of the mornings we were there) the trip was just lovely.  The high temperatures were in the 70s — it was like hiking through an air conditioned room!

Day One: Arches

William loved the Windows area of Arches.  He kept pointing at them and happily cried “Big Wok!  Big Wok!” (big rock!) over and over.  Later, he saw a group of pointed sandstone fins on the horizon and exclaimed “Mountain!” while holding his hands over his head in a little mountain-shape.

 Arches 2009 north window

Our big hike in Arches was to the Double O Arch — two round arches stacked on top of each other.  We had to scramble up a series of sandstone boulders to get to the main part of the trail, which the children loved (in fact, they were the only kids we saw on that part of the trail).  One part of the hike requires walking on the edge of a tall narrow fin.  There were ledges on either side of us, so it was safe, but it still induced a good sense of virtigo.  Eleanor, on the other hand, found it exhilirating.  “I’m flying high like a bird in the air!” she exclaimed.

 Arches 2009 double o 1

When we got to the Double O, Jeffrey climbed on a boulder and sang a song about how a double O makes an “oo” sound, like in “book.”  Cute.

Arches 2009 double o 2

Arches 2009 double o 3

We had a camp stove, which allowed us to cook our dinner at a picnic table in the park and watch the sunset at the same time.  Hot dogs always taste better when you get to watch this while eating them:

 Arches 2009 balanced rock

Day Two: Canyonlands

Canyonlands is about 30 miles away from Arches, and is divided into three different districts, each more rugged than the last.  We spent our time in the most accessible district, Island in the Sky.  It is named as such because it is an enormous mesa that climbs above the canyons to an elevation of 6,ooo feet.  Looking out at the seemingly endless mazes of rocks and ravines really does give the feeling of being on top of the world.

Canyonlands 2009 grand view point

Our most challenging hike in Canyonlands was called Aztec Butte, which scrambles up a sandstone hill to a series of ancestral Puebloan ruins dating from about 1200 A.D.  Archaeologists believe they were used as granaries.  In retrospect, we probably shouldn’t have taken the kids on this hike, because the climb down was kind of scary. 

Canyonlands 2009 aztec butte2Canyonlands 2009 aztec butte1

But Jeffrey, who has a fascination with ancient cultures, thought it was wonderful (and bombarded us with questions about the Puebloans for the rest of the trip). 

Canyonlands 2009 aztec butte4

Canyonlands 2009 aztec butte3

We all had a big adrenaline rush when we came back down from the butte.  Eleanor skipped down the last ten yards of the hike, singing “Stay on the trail, stay on the trail!  Do what the ranger sayyyyyys . . .

Again, we used our camp stove to cook up some dinner (barbecue sandwiches!  Mmmm!) in the park at sunset.  We sat near the edge of an overlook (there was a ledge underneath, don’t worry) and saw this spectacular view:

 Canyonlands 2009 sunset4

It really did feel like we were floating miles above everyone else.  I love Island in the Sky.

 

Day Three: Sand Dune Arch

We had a sprinkling of rain on Sunday morning, so we quickly struck our camp and headed back to Arches for one last visit before saying goodbye.  I wanted to take the children to Sand Dune Arch, one of my favorite places in the park.  It’s an arch that is nestled between a group of sandstone fins, but what makes it fun is the enormous piles of fine sand that have collected around the base of the fins.  It’s like a giant sandbox, with lots of boulders, nooks and crannies for exploring.  Whenever I’ve been there before, the place is usually packed with people, but for some reason it was deserted for about 45 mintues after we arrived.

Arches 2009 sand dune1

The light rain had left the top layer of sand wet, which made it perfect for building sandcastles.  The kids were of the opinion that this was the best place ever.  Don’t worry, they knocked the castle over before we left. 

Arches 2009 sand dune2

The big rainstorm hit just as we drove out of the park.  The kids were a bit sad to go, which made me happy — I’m so pleased that they are developing a love for the outdoors.  It was a wonderful trip, and I can’t wait for another visit!

Arches 2009 wimmy     Arches 2009 jeff&ella

Pre-Snooze Chat

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The only times that Eleanor ever gets out of bed after lights-out is when she needs to complain about how Brian and I are making too much noise and that we need to keep it down.

Hmm . . . today in the car she also complained that my music was too loud, and I wasn’t turning it down low enough.  Kids these days.

Jeffrey, on the other hand, NEVER seems to go to sleep in a prompt fashion.  We put him down, and he usually ends up talking to himself, running in and out of his room, begging for water, and essentially driving me nuts for well over an hour before conking out.

SOMETIMES it helps to have a bedside talk with him at tuck-in time.  He calls these our “chats” and looks forward to them.  It’s his chance to gab about whatever’s on his mind, and because this is Jeffrey we’re talking about, that usually means something odd.

Once he told me that the stripes on his stuffed tiger were really the letters to a “tiger alphabet” that he could use to translate tiger roars.  Then he pointed out how he had recently cut the stuffed tiger’s whiskers off.  Yes, he is turning into a real-life personification of Calvin & Hobbes.

Tonight he spent time telling me how he wanted to build a “family airplane” — “For real Mom.  We can use the engine from our car to build it.”

Then how would we drive to the grocery store? 

“Can’t we please buy a second car?”

He went on:

“It would have two floors.  The top floor for you and Daddy, and the bottom floor for the kids.”   A ladder would be used to access both levels.  I tried to get him to describe what he wanted on the kids’ floor — comfy seats?  A big snack bar, a television?  Those are the kind of things I would have fantasized about as a child.  But Jeff wasn’t interested in that.

“A snack bar is fine, but no TV, Mom.  The kids will have a big glass window and binoculars to let you and Daddy know how high in the air we are, and how fast we’re going.”

Oh, so the parents are the pilots?

“You are the one flying the plane, Mom.”

Well, bad news, kiddo.  I have intense flying sickness.  My tummy gets upset whenever I fly.

Jeffrey was indignant.  “Mommy, you need to teach your tummy a LESSON.”

Later:  “Couldn’t you please go to flight school, Mom?   Then we can fly to Grandma Newey’s house.  Pleeease?”  He repeated this plea over and over again until the chat was finished.

 

Why can’t I have a kid who begs for a Wii like everyone else?!? 

(Aw, shucks: because I wouldn’t have it any other way.)

Wimmy’s Personal Moon

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I recently found this rhyme quoted on Peter Sieruta’s excellent blog, Collecting Children’s Books.  I think it’s just lovely:

The Moon’s the North Wind’s cookie
He bites it, day by day
Until there’s but a rim of scraps
That crumble all away.
The South Wind is the baker
He kneads clouds in his den,
And bakes a crisp new moon that …
Greedy…. North…. Wind ….eats….again!

Lately whenever I am loading my kids in the car, William has developed the habit of pointing to the ceiling of the garage and shouting “Moon!  Moon!”  Upon closer inspection, I discovered that when the sun shines on big round vent pipe on the top of the garage roof, the light reflects off of its insides.  When viewed from below, it looks like a little crecent-shaped moon, just the right size for a two-year-old to claim as his own.

Seven Year Old Neurology

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Early this morning Jeffrey burst in on his sleeping parents to complain about a cramp in his calf.

“My leg is not able to support me anymore!” he wailed.  When we questioned him further, he added, “I think my brain is having trouble sending it a message.”

Jeffrey often refers to his brain in this way.  When he has difficulty performing a particular task, he’ll often clutch as his hair and say “I can’t, my brain is clogged!”

Makes me wish I could invent a product called Neuro Drain-O or something.

7-Up

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Our boy Jeffrey turned seven years old yesterday.  He’s such a lovely freckle-nosed one, and we had a wonderful birthday party for him.

He really wanted an “outer-space” themed party, so we gave it to him.  The kids made these funny green alien masks out of craft foam and then headed straight for the hammock for a swing.  It was pretty darn cute seeing all these little green faces popping up from the edge of the hammock (Jeffrey is the second from the left):

Jeffrey birthday 2009 masks

We also made a UFO out of paper plates and had contest to see who could toss it the farthest; then we played a darts game with a dart board that looked like the solar system (erm, kinda.  It was made from rings of tape affixed to an old blanket).  Finally, the kids smashed apart a pinata shaped like a rocketship.  It was all very satisfying.

Jeffrey birthday 2009 cake

I baked the birthdaycake in a metal bowl so I could flip it upside down and make a “moon” cake.  The idea came from FamilyFun magazine.  The “craters” are brown and purple Necco wafers.

Jeffrey Birthday 2009 table

 

Jeffrey birthday 2009 candles

To top off the celebration, Jeffrey lost his first tooth later in the evening, and had the thrill of putting it under his pillow for the Tooth Fairy.  She gave him fifty cents for it, which he thought was incredibly generous.  There’s no inflation like tooth fairy inflation, says I.

Milking It

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A few posts ago I wrote about how William has developed the habit of saying “Missed you!” whenever he sees someone who has been absent for a while.  Whenever I pick him up from nursery school, that’s the first thing he says to me: “Missed you, Mommy!”  He usually accompanies these words with a big smile, an adorable tilt of the head, and his chubby hands curled up under his chin.

Well.  You can imagine the positive reinforcement we’ve given him over that, so now he’s begun to say “Missed you” to anybody who has been absent for a matter of minutes, or sometimes not at all.

Oh my gosh!  Dad was in the living room and he was in the study?  “Missed you!”

Big brother was in the backyard?  “Missed you!”

Mom was sitting on the other side of the table from him?  “Missed you!”

We can’t help it, though — it’s so, so adorable that we all tackle him with hugs and kisses whenever he does it.  I’m feeling rather certain that his intentions are guileless, that this is simply his message of saying “Hey, there you are!  I need some loveys from you!”

Car-versation

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Last night, Brian and I had to go to the Verizon store and pick out a new phone.  All three children were dragged along, and it was painful.  On the way home, everyone was cranky, including Brian and I, and our tone of voice showed it.  After making a few cutting remarks at each other, our children began butting in.  This is a transcript of what I remember them saying:

ELEANOR: No no, Daddy!  Your voice should be smooth and handsome, like a gentleman!

BRIAN: Thanks, Eleanor.  I needed to remember that.

ELEANOR: And Mommy, your voice should be pretty and lovely, like a lady.

[Oy with the gender conditioning, already!]

BROOKE: Okay, Eleanor.  Thanks.

ELEANOR: And we should all speak nicely and not fight with each other.

JEFFREY: Well, I think you should speak like a supervisor!

BRIAN: What does a supervisor say?

JEFFREY: HI, MY NAME IS JOE!

[Wimmy babbles incoherently]

JEFFREY: I THINK YOU SHOULD GET TO WORK, JOE!

BROOKE AND BRIAN: [sound of muffled hysterical laughter]

On Their Toes

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In the past two weeks, our kids have begun their very first extracurricular activities: dancing and soccer.

(Well . . . extracurricular besides piano, which doesn’t seem to be as much an activity as a prolonged “someday this pain will be good for you.”  No, really — piano’s going great, except for when it’s mindbogglingly awful.  But I digress.)

Eleanor, who has been twirling and skipping around the house since she could walk, has begun creative dance lessons.  My mother in law has been generous enough to sponsor her at an excellent nearby school, and she has been in heaven ever since.  I was able to go with her to her first lesson, and the adorableness factor was sky high.  There are six girls in the class, inlcuding Ella, and they spent time having an “underwater adventure,” including eating imaginary “seaweed sandwiches” (a creative way of making the stretching exercises more fun) and pretending to be hermit crabs with different kinds of shells (a way of learning to vary dancing to match emotion). 

Eleanor was a veritable pixie in her little pink leotard and footless tights.  At the end of each exercise, the kids were encouraged to make a “beautiful shape” with their bodies.  Eleanor stretched high and low, skipping about merrily with joy through the whole class.

Each morning she asks if it is the day of her dance class again.  She’s so excited.

In the meanwhile, Jeffrey joined his very first soccer team this week.  His team, which has recently been dubbed the “Red Dragons” by the players, is mostly comprised of other boys from the neighborhood, most of whom Jeff already knows.  They only have the vaguest idea of how the game is supposed to be played, and so they don’t even bother using goalies in competition.  This morning they had their first game, and the kids spent time alternately running in packs back and forth across the field and wistfully staring at the nearby forest of climbing trees.  Jeffrey had to be coaxed out of the forest and back to the sidelines whenever he was taking a break.

Once, after scoring, two of the Dragons gave each other a “chest bump,” which all the other kids thought was really cool.  So then, instead of wandering into the forest during breaks, the boys spent time chest-bumping each other into oblivion.  Jeffrey’s chosen method was to hop up and down with his eyes closed until his friend rammed him backwards. 

The game was great.  Jeff ran and ran until his cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink, which is what I love the best.  Yesterday we took him to the sporting goods store and bought him a pair of cleats and shin guards, which thrilled him to no end.  It was all I could do to coax them off of his feet at bedtime!