a funny thing happened on the way to summer.

once upon a time my little family of three was chugging merrily along through april looking forward to celebrating bubs' fourth birthday and eight glorious weeks of summer break. and then i got an email that flipped our world upside down. 

okay, a few background facts about our life:

a) we share a one bedroom apartment with a feral four year old

b) we like trees 

c) we need a change

back to that email. it was an invitation to interview for an art teacher position with an elementary school.

in colorado.

the end of an era.

for years, the mister and i have been dreaming of moving west but our focus has always been california. since that locale is completely out of our reach, we never pondered an actual move. enter keri, who should earn a commission for her relentless marketing of the glories of colorado. she planted the seed, even assisted in the job hunt, and suddenly moving across the country seemed like an option.

and then i landed that art teaching gig and the decision was made.

sayonara miami.

with that decision, our entire world was drop kicked into total chaos, since the timeline has been nothing short of nutty. the job offer arrived on may 29th and the bubs and i left for an already planned visit to california on june 9th. in between i finished the school year in miami, threw a 4th birthday party for the bubs, and packed up our entire house.

while i was in cali, the mister drove to colorado and found a house for us to rent, while i hired movers and rearranged travel plans. and then i left bubs in california with my parents. his first time being away from both of us. ouch. i headed to colorado for a week to join the mister working on the details of moving in and then off i went to miami for ten days to do all the moving out. alone. just me and the movers. 

the movers used 13 rolls of tape to wrap our furniture with blankies.

fingers crossed that the contents find their way to denver.

my mom's 1970s luggage wheels still going strong.

and now the mister and i are in colorado stuck in that special hell known only to those in the midst of long-distance moves -- all of your possessions are on a truck somewhere between your old city and your new one and you are living in a state of suspense in a mostly unfurnished house trying to subsist on frozen lasagna from costco. don't get me wrong, that lasagna is good stuff, but well, you know.

our new home.

meet pearl. my new ride.

needless to say, the last eight weeks have been overwhelming, but we are excited for this new beginning for our little family. bubs is still in california missing us like crazy, but soon he will be with us. we cannot wait to explore our new city with him and to see him frolicking in his very own backyard. this has been a big step for us, but we think it will be a good one.

missing my bubs.

just a newbie.

hard work...who ME?!?

as you have clearly figured out, i have a newborn in the house. loving the little one, but ummm..newborns are hard work! holy bananas. i mean, don't get me wrong, it is all good stuff, but it is HARD WORK! i was expecting the typical eating, sleeping, pooping, and crying...but i did not realize the potential complexity of those four events. 

milk time...censored, because this is not THAT kind of blog.

eating. this is not a simple affair of have some milk and then be fine with life. nope. first, he nurses eight to twelve times a day, for thirty to forty minutes at a time. yikes!! never knew it could take so long to fill the world's smallest stomach. of course, at least half of the time i forget to grab my phone, the remote, or something to drink, so i end up stuck under a nursing newborn with nothing to amuse myself and completely parched. second, i am supposed to remember which side he nursed on last and start on that side at the next feeding. do who, what?!?! right. i can barely remember to brush my teeth and i am supposed to keep track of which boob is up next. ummm. sure. third, make sure he eats every three hours. well luckily, despite never remembering to look at the clock, this is not a problem. this kid never stops eating. fourth, change the kid's diaper BEFORE he eats. okay, check. and finally, burp the kid AFTER he eats. oh sure, spend forty minutes waiting for the kid to suck his way to sleep and then wake him up?!?! no thanks. he will burp in his own good time. (this is probably the point when someone is freaking out, because i do not regularly burp my kid...but hey, sleeping babies are much more pleasant than cranky i-am-supposed-to-be-sleeping-but-you-woke-me-up-to-burp-me babies.)

sleeping on prime real etate...momma's lap.

sleeping. that is, the baby sleeping. seems straightforward. mmmhmm. easy peasy, until the little dude discovered that he can sleep in his momma and poppa's bed or better yet...on top of them! yup. little guy is already spoiled. if he is even remotely awake, he refuses to sleep in his crib. this is a great time to point out that his crib is butted up against our bed, so his mattress is essentially an extension of ours. it's not like he is sleeping miles away, but apparently he thinks the 9" space between him and his momma is too much. at this point you might be wondering how a newborn refuses a crib. well, we lull him to sleep wherever he likes...in our lap, on our chest, next to us in bed, etc. then we move him to his crib. for up to five minutes things seem fabulous. and then the noises start. he squeaks. then he opens his eyes. next he waves his arms and kicks his feet. sometimes he manages to give himself the hiccups (sounds ridiculous, but i swear he does it!), and no matter what, after a few minutes he starts crying. oh and did i mention that when i manage to get him to sleep somewhere other than on top of me, he invariably wakes up right as i am thinking "i hope he sleeps for two more minutes, so i can finish what i am doing." this kid has a sixth sense for how best to dominate momma's world. whoever said that babies are boring, because all they do is sleep, has clearly never met my kid.

nonchalant pooper.

pooping. okay, even i have to admit, there is nothing complicated about the little guy's poop. he poops, i change his diaper, he poops again. sometimes he does not wait for a new diaper before pooping, which means big clean up for me. but still, pooping is basic and easy peasy. although, i have to say, his pooping is amusing - the kid lets loose some whoppers and he does it all while gazing nonchalantly into the distance.

this is the "PICK ME UP" shriek.

crying. according to the experts (whoever they are), newborns have different cries for different issues and if i tune my brain, then based on his cry i should know exactly what my kid wants. ummm..i guess my brain is not tunable, because i have so far only deciphered three different cries. the first is the rhythmic shrieking, which is the little dude saying "pick me up, pick me up, PICK ME UP!!!" check. then there are the startling screams combined with kicking, which means "my belly hurts" and is almost always followed up by a humongous poop. got it. finally there are the fussy and whiny cries, which cover all other issues. this is the crying for which i wish i had translations, so i could tell if the dude is hungry, tired, hot, cold, needs a diaper change, or is just generally uncomfortable. maybe in another few weeks i will have the guidebook, but for now we just bop along hoping to find the cure for his crying. luckily pringle is an easygoing dude and has been patient while i figure out how to be a momma.

wonky windows #16.

a window into our wonky world...
the mister and i love fruit. not fruits and vegetables. just fruit. we occasionally eat vegetables, but it is fruit that finds us in the grocery store four or five days a week. mostly we eat bananas, strawberries, pineapple, nectarines, and apples. but a few months ago we added watermelon. don't get me wrong....we always enjoyed watermelon, we just did not consume it that often. now i happen to be a lucky lass, because i am married to a championship watermelon picker. okay fine, he has not ever won a championship, but if there were such a contest, i would bet a lot of money that he would come out on top. he honed his skills in the fields of lesotho, so the grocery store with plenty of pickings is no match for him. we always got the lovely little watermelons, which according to this ny times article, are called "personal melons." right-o. they are about the size of a honeydew melon, seedless, taste delicious, and fit nicely into the refrigerator. oh and the mister and i can consume one in less than 24 hours.

the twenty-eight pound monster.

as of last week, those personal melons are old news. we have now regressed into the world of seeded (gasp!) and gigantic watermelons. last week the mister brought home a giant that was probably close to 20 pounds. ummm...we ate the whole thing...in 6 days. today, the mister was not feeling so bashful. he bought a 28 pound behemoth that is so gigantic it will not fit inside of the bag he was planning to use to keep it fresh. are we having a party? uhhh..nope. sharing with seven other families? uhhh..nope. this massive gem is just for the two of us (well three...pringle is a hungry little one). this leaves me wondering...is it possible to consume too much watermelon???

THE quilt finito.

a rather startling event happened this weekend....i finished the quilt. not one step, or two, but the whole durn thing. that is right kids. the quilt is done. finished. fertig. finito. just as i was starting to think that i would never ever complete this monumental task, i bumped into a whole lot of motivation and voila. success. this must be nesting, because lots of other things have also happened in the last seventy two hours, but that is a story for another day. for now, the quilt in all of its glory.

we are still awaiting the fabric from the mister's family in lesotho. yes, it has been a loooong time. six and a half weeks. ugh. luckily the quilt's design allowed me to finish, while leaving a space for the missing pieces (those pieces are included in all of the quilt "counts").

forty six contributors sent  fabric from five continents: north america, europe, australia, asia, and africa; five countries: united states, germany, australia, united arab emirates, and lesotho; and twelve states: arizona, california, colorado, florida, georgia, idaho, illinois, new mexico, new york, rhode island, tennessee, and virginia.

since many of pringle's well-wishers sent more than one cloth, we had sixty-four fabrics to work with. as much as possible, i tried to include a large and a small circle of each contribution, which resulted in a grand total of NINETY NINE circles. 

in keeping with the spirit of the circles, i added loops to my favorite meandering quilting pattern (the white lines looping all over the fabric is the quilting). i cannot tell a lie...i love the way it looks.

we are still in awe of the number of people that sent fabric for the quilt. family from around the world. friends from childhood, college, peace corps, and work. some folks we have never even met in-person, others we have only met once or twice. but no matter how new or old the friendship, it has been amazing to discover how loved our little nugget is, even before her/his arrival.

to everyone who sent fabric, this quilt's for you, from you, because of you!!! THANK YOU!!!

THE quilt on speed.

ummm...so remember a few days ago when i was a bit worried that perhaps i might never finish pringle's quilt? yes well, apparently my fears were completely groundless. i was totally possessed and energized on saturday, so i got to work.

totally wacko knee pads.

i laid out all the circles...crawling around on my makeshift kneepads (some of the mister's socks strapped to my knees) until i was completely satisfied with the placement of each circle. around the time my knees were ready to fall off, despite the "knee pads," the circles were ready for pinning. since my knees could take no more, i flopped onto my rump and scooted around pinning down every single circle. and then i had to iron each circle to activate the fusible interfacing (glue) so the circles were attached to the background fabric. finally i had to sew circles around the edges of each circle. holy bananas.

did i mention that there are ninety-two circles? just in case you did not get it the first time, there are NINETY-TWO circles!!! as you can probably imagine this entire process was rather overwhelming. needless to say, it is with relief and disbelief that i can tell you the front of the quilt is complete. well, as long as you are willing to ignore the seven empty spaces reserved for the fabric en route from the mister's family in lesotho.

next step...the back of the quilt. the little pieces are all sewn together. now i am waiting for the rest of the fabric to arrive (hopefully tomorrow). once i have it i can finish the back and then finish the whole quilt. gasp. it is starting to seem like maybe, just maybe, this quilt will be finished before the little one's arrival. phew.

what the what.

every time i visit my parents' house, i am astounded by all the craziness. not my parents. they are not crazy. well, not any crazier than me, which might not be saying much, but i do not think that any of us needs to be institutionalized. the craziness is the things that they own that are just, ummm, crazy. i have no other word. their house is a gallimaufry of paintings, gadgets, books, crafting supplies, electronics, sculptures, and gardening goodies. i am sure that many of you think that either you or your kin have some crazy nonsense, but do they have...

laser-guided scissors?

 

wiggly knives to cut cheese in pretty slices?

 

irons that stand up on their own two feet as soon as you release the handle?

 

a psychedelic mushroom clock that chimes the hours?

 

and a whole host of light-up clocks that are virtually unreadable even to the experienced viewer? some of these chime every fifteen minutes. all of them chime on the hour. the top of every hour is a cacophony of chimes.

 

  

  

for those interested...all the clocks were made by chrono art.

wednesday windows #9.

this week's theme: the wonderful world of our condominium building.

when i moved into our condo, i was told that condo rules prohibit pets; however, there is one lady who has medical authorization to own a dog. i did not think anything of this fact. after a few weeks i met the lady and found her to be aggressively friendly. strange combination, but i have not other description. having been accosted by her multiple times over the last five years, including her yelling at me for not joining the condo board, loudly insisting that her large, growling, and barking dog (which may have been foaming at the mouth) was perfectly harmless, and running her hand down my leg at a meeting, i have since changed my opinion. she is simply crazy. after being harassed himself, even the mister, who is much less feisty than moi, finally had to agree. the lady is cuckoo for cocoa puffs.

it just so happens that her reserved parking spot #116 is right along the path from my parking spot to the building entrance. i used to cut through her spot (between her car and the column)...you know, shave a few seconds off of the journey to my house. but then pringle joined my adventures and i have had to learn to think for two. one day i realized that crazy lady technically owns that parking spot and i am not the least bit interested in introducing pringle to that world. since that epiphany, i have avoided the spot like the plague. or tried to. but occasionally when lost in my own thoughts, i find myself wandering through the corner of her spot. do i just forget it and continue? ummm...no. because apparently i am a little wacko myself. i have actually retraced my steps, as if that erases my tread into psycho territory, and walked back around the support column. anyone who observes this probably thinks that i belong in the loony bin, but i have to protect my young!

living in miami, i am constantly surrounded by people for whom english is a second language. the resulting english can be amusing. i am not gonna lie, it took me a minute to decipher the meaning of a "computer for car key," and still, i am only assuming that my analysis is correct.

interested in participating in wednesday windows? check out the instructions.

the quilting saga.

i am not exactly sure what originally caused my quilt obsession, but some time in my childhood i came up with the notion that i wanted to make a quilt and that idea never left me. i started many a quilt during the years, but at some point in the process i always stopped. it was not until i joined the peace corps that i actually managed to piece together enough little bits of fabric to get past the inevitable hump that tries to block you from finishing a quilt. i have always been fascinated by crazy quilts. "crazy" meaning that instead of a structured repeating design, every square is a mish-mash of fabric. sounds simple. no problem. i thought "crazy" was just the design. oh no. crazy is how you feel when you are putting one of these together. every single little piece of fabric is stitched onto a backing fabric and then every edge of these itty-bitty pieces is embroidered, so it will not unravel. and that is just making the squares. right.

anyhow, my stint in the peace corps exposed me to lots of gorgeous fabric. i sewed and sewed and resewed. and i saved every single scrap, no matter how small. being enamored with quilts, i of course was once again planning a quilt. i started the quilt in 2004, sewing by hand in my little hut. then in 2005 i moved to a "modern" house with electricity for a few months and used an electric sewing machine. wahoo! after relentless periods of sewing like mad, i returned from africa with one hundred pieced together squares. although these still needed a LOT of work, somehow that hurdle of creating 100 squares was enough motivation to get me through the entire quilting process. and it was a HUGE process. holy bananas.  after i moved back to the states, i settled in seattle, where i diligently embroidered edges with a hand-me-down sewing machine. the sewing machine did not fit in my little car when i moved across the country, so i bought a new machine in 2006 and continued the mammoth task of embroidering edges. 2007 was the year of cutting all the squares to size and piecing them together. finally in 2008 i put together all the layers, quilted them together, and finished off the quilt. 4 homes, 3 sewing machines, 2 continents, 1 quilt. the finished product is large enough to comfortably cover a queen-size mattress. 

 the african crazy quilt.

so, having cut my quilting teeth on such a massive project, i have since found smaller quilts to be a "simple" process. okay fine, they are not exactly simple, but they are sure a whole bunch easier than monster-sized bedspreads. plus i now know what i am doing, which helps.

wowsa, wowsa, wedding quilts.

after the peace corps quilt, i came up with the brilliant plan to create a quilt for each of my best friends' wedding gifts. three quilts. fantastic. and then they all got married within 12 months of each other. gasp. let us just say that i did a whole bunch of quilting in a short amount of time. naturally when my brother informed me that he was going to be a daddy, my brain went into instant hyper-drive planning the perfect baby quilt.

the baby quilt bonanza.

and then i opened an etsy shop and realized that maybe, just maybe, i could convince people to BUY my quilts. this added a whole new dimension to my quilting, because i discovered that perhaps i could feed my quilting habit without sending the mister and i into financial ruin. fancy. i have not actually yet sold one to someone outside of my family, but i am hopeful. the only thing i did not calculate was how much this quilting obsession would take over my life. let us just say that i am putting together fabric combinations in my sleep. two years ago i had never before finished a quilt and now i have completed seven and have more in production. egads!!!

a little nutty.

just in case you were not entirely convinced that i have lost my marbles... i created a "store." personally i think it is charming. the mister snagged this display case before his store threw it in the dumpster. it has been sitting  idle for four months waiting for creative inspiration. it came sans shelves, but i got crafty with cardboard. maybe one day i will even paint the cardboard. now this store will likely only ever see one customer (yes pumpky, that's you!), but did that stop me from creating a sign? nope. like i said...etsy and i are tight. just like two peas in a pod
.

happy april fool's day!!

killing the cat.

curiosity killed the cat. therefore i am blessed to not be a cat. i would be dead. i am too curious by far. about what you ask? everything. the latest was brought about by my previous post about kosher soda. out of deference to keri (who prefers pepsi, for reasons i am not taking the liberties to disclose) we will hereby refer to pepsi. she mentioned that HFCS (high fructose corn syrup for those of us who are not in the know) is not included in the kosher production of pepsi. which caused emory to ponder why HFCS is not  kosher. which caused me to go and figure it out. and i solved the riddle!! yay me.

a picture of our grape jelly, because it seemed inappropriate to include a picture of "that which is not pepsi"

are you ready? okay. let's start with the fact that as it turns out, high fructose corn syrup IS kosher. at least according to the OU kosher organization, who call themselves "the world's most recognized and trusted kosher trademark." okay. apparently they are also interested in world domination. and it is working, because they are the trademark from my earlier kosher post. so, why is HFCS kosher? well OU kosher starts with a commentary about the production of HFCS explaining that it is made by changing the molecular structure of corn syrup. uh huh. sure. and then somewhere near the end of the following snippet, we can deduce that it is kosher, because they admit to the fact that they cannot find any reason why HFCS is not kosher.

"The agent responsible for this dramatic change is called glucose isomerase. Although the production of glucose isomerase could theoretically involve kosher concerns (the raw materials may be derived from non-kosher material) the only producers of this sophisticated ingredient are, to the best of our knowledge, kosher-certified. It is thus unlikely that any nonkosher high-fructose corn syrup is on the market" (http://www.oukosher.org/index.php/common/article/good_sweet_year/).

so if HFCS is kosher then why the big hullabaloo creating kosher pepsi for passover? because folks who observe passover traditions are forbidden from ingesting fermented grains or grains which have been in contact with water for longer than 18 minutes. corn is a grain. high fructose corn syrup is derived from corn. pepsi is a liquid, so at some level it contains water. clearly the corn derivative is in contact with water for much longer than 18 minutes. put all or some (i am NOT a scientist people...bear with me) of that argument together and obviously HFCS cannot be consumed during passover.

"Any food or food product containing fermented grain products (Chametz) may not be used or remain in a Jew's possession on Passover. Even foods with minute amounts of Chametz ingredients, or foods processed on utensils which are used for other Chametz-containing foods, are not permissible for Passover use" (http://www.ou.org/chagim/pesach/pesachguide/maze/basic3.htm).

not surprisingly, pepsi is eager to play nice with customers, so they found a way for folks to observe passover AND still gulp down their beverages. long story short...the hubbub is entirely related to passover NOT to the consumption of HFCS the rest of the year. interestingly the throwback varieties of pepsi, which are made with real sugar instead of HFCS are kosher, but not kosher for passover. i have not yet found anything that answers why these are not kosher for passover. i have a feeling it has something to do with a non-kosher preservative.

"During Passover, Jewish law forbids the consumption or possession by Jews of all edible fermented grain products (Chametz) or related foods. Therefore, even foods and household products which meet the strict, year-round dietary regulations, and are considered Kosher, are nevertheless, often unacceptable, or require special preparation for Passover use in the Jewish home in order to be Kosher for Passover"  (http://www.ou.org/chagim/pesach/pesachguide/maze/basic7.htm).

i feel better now. i hope you do too. and i would like to thank the folks at OU kosher for providing such a wealth of information.

kosher coke.

i have never tried to keep kosher, which is probably a good thing, because it never ever ever ever ever would have dawned on me that i need to check my soda to see if it is kosher. but as declared by the orthodox union, certain parts of coke and diet coke meet kosher standards. good to know. but how many different parts of coke are there?

this letter was hanging from the coke shelf at the grocery store.

my question. the rabbi has certified coke for passover 2010. does that mean that after passover coke is no longer kosher? this is so confusing.

 and the coke marketing department gets in on the action. sweet.

shattered innocence.

this evening found me sitting on my balcony desperately trying to ignore the myriad of activities that were attempting to lure me from the drudgery of studying. the mister arrived home with kisses for his darling wife and then he retreated to the inner sanctum to watch television and leave me in the swamp of scholarly essays.

suddenly i hear repeated popping noises coming from the other side of a neighboring building. my head is spinning...fireworks? ummm...gunshots? the mister immediately appeared at my side and confirmed my fears that i was indeed hearing gunshots (why was he so certain? dunno. that is to be determined another day). this claim was substantiated when we heard sirens, and then saw a black car careen down the road only to be rammed by a chasing police car. to make matters more frightening another police car came screaming the WRONG way, effectively sandwiching the suspect between their bumpers.

at this point the mister and i are gaping in dumbfounded shock at the events unfolding on the streets below, when POP POP POP POP POP the gunfire starts again! YEESH! i hightailed it into the house with the mister close on my heels. call us dweebs, but we went to peek out the window, only to hear more pops, which sent us scurrying back to the kitchen. after what seemed like an inordinately long stretch, the shooting stopped and we reemerged on the balcony, only to discover that five stories down one of the suspects was sprawled across the trunk of a police car. the yelling, shouting, and wailing, that ensued shortly after, emanated from what we presume was another suspect, this one not so "lucky," because he was apparently hit by one of the many flying bullets.

it only took a few minutes for a bevy of police cars, detectives, and ambulances, to descend on the scene. three hours later only a few police cars remain, but the mobile crime lab, detectives, the suspect's cars and the crime scene tape have not yet disappeared. i am holding out hope that when i wake up, the flashing lights, crime scene tape and suspect's cars will have been removed and all the events will linger only in my memory.

who knew that the 200 yard stretch of road visible from our balcony would provide us our own constant stream of police action. we regularly watch traffic stops, but this was a first (and hopefully last) experience with a shootout. i, for one, prefer the traffic stops.

one sandwich short of a picnic.

i am no longer in love with julia child. what's to love? she is divine. amazing. brilliant. a genius. nope, i am no longer in love. i have simply decided that i am her. i came to this conclusion yesterday evening when i trekked to the grocery store in search of a boneless round rump roast. perhaps you are curious why i am procuring rumps...because i am julia child and i decided my husband would enjoy eating boeuf bourguignon. our oven is on its annual fritz. yes, annual. every summer it starts acting funny and then in august and/or september it ceases to work, merely uttering an occasional pathetic beep. but, since i am julia child, do i let this bother me? no ma'am. i simply slide over to the dark side and whip up the betty crocker version of boeuf bourguignon, which only requires the use of the stove top.

now of course, since i am a famous chef, i am sure you are trying to determine why you do not see me on television. as we all know, any person who can cook worth a darn has a television show. it seems that since i share a personality with a deceased person, the networks are finding it difficult to stomach my entrée into their lineup. until i find an enlightened executive, i fear that i am sidelined from presenting my cooking prowess on the telly. do not despair. as a preparation for the day when my presence is desired on the small screen, each time i enter the kitchen i hone my presentation and imaginary audience skills, so as to maintain a constant state of readiness.

bon appétit.

i saw the movie julie & julia last night. i am now in love with julia child (well actually, i am in love with meryl streep channeling the late julia child). her counsel is genius, "always remember: if you're alone in the kitchen and you drop the lamb, you can always just pick it up. who's going to know?" obviously i never try to drop food on the floor, but unconditional permission from a le cordon bleu chef completely emancipates the home cook from potential fear of failure. okay, let's be realistic. i've never met the famous lady chef and unless the marbles start falling out of my head, i am not meeting her anytime soon, since she cooks in the tall-countered kitchen in the sky. the result is that i am bent on finding any other means to haul her spirit into my kitchen, which leaves me inclined to run out and buy her magnum opus mastering the art of french cooking. actually, i have already instructed the mister to procure this jewel for my christmas present.

i doubt that i will be as zealous as julie powell, who cooked all 524 recipes in 365 days, but perhaps one day i will find myself in the kitchen stabbing a lobster between the eyes. there is no doubt that if this comes to pass you will read about it here. of course, that leads me to wonder if there are any living beings perusing these ruminations of my brain. considering that the mister reads this page only with persistent reminders (read: nagging), it seems unlikely that any other souls are stopping by. interestingly, this does not seem to bother me. there is some cathartic release in conversing with an imaginary audience.