Couldn't help taking pictures of this inspiring room at our local library.  I guess this is why we pay the big taxes.  Although it is not portrayed in the photos, each and every book in this room is covered with neon paper.  Kids are invited to create their own titles and cover illustrations.  The remainder of the room is covered in print.

The girls and their Lolo

DQ with the Dads


No matter how old we get, or how much we think we have life under control, we will always need our Dad.  Tatang, who else knows how to grow beautiful zinnias from a seed each summer or keep the rabbits away from our fledgling tomato plants?  Who else can we call when our heater is on the fritz, I have a flat tire or when we need to prepare a rack of ribs?  Tatang, I have you to thank for so much of the greatness that is my husband.  You taught him see challenges as an opportunity for learning and exploration.  You taught him how generous the heart can be.  You also taught him to use starch and an iron...  Thank you for all that you are to our family. 
Much, much love from your appreciative daughter in law, your neatly pressed son and your smitten granddaughters.

Requisite Water Activities




Backyard Fiesta

We celebrated with a few local dads in our backyard on Sunday.  Temps in the mid-80s and Don Omar were a perfect accompaniment to a slip and slide, an assortment of Mexican beers, Jarritos and tacos. 

A portrait of her father. 
Note the V-neck shirt and tie. 
Jer, you are a trendsetter in your daughter's eyes.



And sometimes he doesn't?  We loved this.

Trip Report: Caledonia, Featherdown Farms

 

Nightly egg gathering

We just returned earlier today from an extended weekend stay at a farm outside of Rockford, Illinois.  As we unloaded our car,  I took stock on what we returned home with:
1.  Bags upon bags of laundry.  Blue jeans covered in grass stains and dirt, sweaters sticky with marshmallow, blankets that have been marinated in smoke.  I'm sure if you look hard enough you could find evidence of close contact with a whole host of farm animals on every last article of the kid's clothing.
2.  Bellies full of the most delicious food, grown organically and locally.  Breakfast sausages and hamburger meat, syrup and salad greens, pizza cooked outdoors with ingredients right at the farm.  It made my heart sing.
3.  A lowered resting heart rate.
4.  A deep appreciation of running water, a bathroom within steps of my bedroom and electricity.

We left on Friday afternoon and arrived at Kinnikinnick farm before dinner.  It was down a gravel drive just off a long unpaved road.  We were the first family to arrive; four more tent-fuls were on their way via Chicago.  As if by instinct, Ella and Viv quickly chucked their shoes and connected with the land as only kids know how.  They rolled in the grass, climbed apple trees and stared at bugs.  It was a real "kumbaya" moment for this ex-girl scout.  Dinner was brought to us that first night in our tent.  We ate roasted chicken, white bean salad and tasted the first of the farm's offerings.  We happily finished the dishes by candlelight.  Pajamas went on as we watched the last of the sun creep over the horizon.  All was well until 11 p.m. when the cold set in.  I seriously considered packing my family up and finding the nearest HoJo.  I started coming to terms with the fact that we are in a tent...a beautiful, well-appointed tent, but a tent nonetheless.  There was no climate control!  Dammit, it had only been six years since I had camped last.  Why didn't I remember this small detail?  As I tried to remember where I put my sweater in the pitch black, the howling began, honest to goodness howling.  And for a moment I was Laura Ingalls in "Little House in the Big Woods", imagining our tent surrounded by hungry wolves, too scared to get my sweater, let alone my signal-less cellphone to call for help.  Somehow we survived the night.  My urge to escape to a HoJo continued that next morning after it took us two hours to get our wood burning stove to work.  That would be two hours to get my kids fed and perhaps more importantly TWO HOURS before we had a cup of morning coffee.  By the time our oatmeal was ready and I had my first sips of tepid coffee I had seriously started to reconsider my definition of "vacation".  Luckily, this was just a momentary setback.  The rest of our stay yielded many, many, many happy moments with the kids.  Jerry and I were able to slow way down, barely looking at our watches.  We managed to figure out that stove and cook a few tremendous meals.  The four other tents ended up leaving on Sunday morning, leaving us with full reign over a 120 acre farm.   We had tremendous conversations with farm owners (David and Susan) about honey bees and colony collapse, the move towards industrialized farms after the first World War and the current movement back to sustainable farming.  I hope the kids will remember this weekend, but if not, I have a few pictures to help jog their memories.  A few generations ago, this was daily life for most kids.  It's a life I wish we had more access to.  As I've said before, there's a whole great big world out their Ella and Viv.  There are a whole lot of ways to do good, find happiness, stand for something you believe in.  We'll show you what we can.
            

Getting ready for bed

Cookies before bed

A cold first morning

Admiring their pizza

Made friends with another pair of sisters

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Scrabble at Sunset

With the rest of the farm kids on the way to evening chores

When you have to reassure your kid's teacher that you are not "that psycho mom", you probably are "that psycho mom".  And I hope they remember that and recognize.

Snapbacks on Stage