MommyCoddle

a few of my favorite things

On Sunday morning I woke up at 6:30 in a panic. Dan was still beside me in bed, I thought it was Monday, his alarm didn't go off, he was late for work. Then I realized it was Sunday. Isn't that one of the best feelings in the world? My body just gets all warm and limp when I realize I can sink back into my pillows and fall asleep.

Except that all this week I've thought it was Friday. Just now, I was shocked when I looked up into the little corner of my computer to realize it was flashing "TUE". Who knew? I think I'd better break out a calendar or something.

Anyway, my favorite things…I went to the hardware store this afternoon to pick out a paint color for the headboard that Dan built for me last weekend. In my mind I knew I wanted a dark-grayish-brownish-goose down kind of color.

I don't waste my time with all the other color providers. I marched straight over to the Valspar Martha Stewart color line and there was the exact color I was envisioning. That Martha, she knows what I like. I had my color and my paint within five minutes.

Four of those five minutes were spent gathering up other color cards that I liked. I love these things. If I could get away with it, I'd stand in front of the display and take one of everything. I.love. color. And the names of colors–book cloth brown, araucana green, evening moth, sycamore bark….

And for the record, the one on the far left–tintype–will be the headboard–though it's looking very black in this light.

The other favorite thing right now? Cucumber yogurt dip.

Our family had dinner with another couple from our church several weeks ago and she made this with her meal. I couldn't stop eating it. I think that it may well be possible that Dan and I were the sole reason the bowl was empty at the end of the evening. Of course I got the recipe and I've been making it in constant rotation, like a chain-smoker lights cigarettes.

Last summer was the summer of tomatoes, basil, mozzarella and balsamic.

This is the summer of Cucumber Yogurt Dip.

Here's my (her) loosey-goosey recipe:

Peel, seed and thinly slice several cucumbers. Salt them and place in a colander to drain off the water. I leave mine for several hours in the refrigerator. To the drained cucumbers, add plain yogurt, a dollop of sour cream, a tablespoon or two of olive oil, a teaspoon or two (to taste) of red wine vinegar. Mix together and add salt, pepper and dill to taste.

I'm putting it on everything–steak, chicken, potatoes, zucchini, bagel crisps. I even eat it straight up. I can't stop. It's so cool and refreshing and summery. Try it, you'll see.

Happy Friday! Tuesday!

And for the record, the one on the far left–tintype–will be the headboard–though it's looking very black in this light.

The other favorite thing right now? Cucumber yogurt dip.

Last summer was the summer of tomatoes, basil, mozzarella and balsamic.

This is the summer of Cucumber Yogurt Dip.

Here's my (her) loosey-goosey recipe:

I'm putting it on everything–steak, chicken, potatoes, zucchini, bagel crisps. I even eat it straight up. I can't stop. It's so cool and refreshing and summery. Try it, you'll see.

Happy Friday! Tuesday!

17 Comments

everything else

Save Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood

My children don't watch much television. In fact, since we've moved to Thomas Run we haven't set up the tv or even hooked up cable service. But we do go through spurts where the television comes out again–a round of sickness, the coldest days of the winter months…

When the television is on in our home and the children are watching, there is only one channel that they watch–PBS. When we lived in Wisconsin, that meant that the girls were able to watch thirty minutes of Mr Rogers each morning. Back then, Mr. Rogers was preceded by an episode of Sesame Street which included a short episode of Elmo's World sandwiched in the middle of the program.

On the days when my children would catch the last bits of Elmo's World before watching Mr. Rogers, the contrast between the two programs was stark. The busyness of Elmo's World, the chaotic music, the jumping from one snippet to the next, the throwing out of lots of information, delivered quickly and with a snappy, fast-paced approach. Some days I could barely stand to be in the same room while the show was on. It was too much to process. Sensory overload.

The show stood in strong contrast to Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. From the beginning, the show was like watching a work of art slowly unfolding. There was routine, a slower pace, peaceful music, a kind voice, a gentle curiosity and encouragement. I felt my mood soften and relax.

Recently, I became aware that Public Television is making plans (already implemented in some states) to remove Mr. Rogers Neighborhood from its weekly lineup for children. In some places, it will get shoved to a weekend time slot, for other stations it will be gone all together.

Mr. Rogers is timeless. It's not only about nostalgia– watching a show with my children that I watched as a child. Fred Roger's carefully crafted program has a message that is just as important to today's children, if not more, as it was to children of my generation.

In an era where more and more children are parented by their televisions, the need for a program like Mr. Rogers to be on the air holds even more weight and importance. In my opinion, PBS is doing a disservice to children today by removing this show from their schedule.

For me, saving Mr. Roger's Neighborhood really isn't about keeping a show on the air that I want my children to watch. Because chances are, my children won't be watching television very often. My strong feelings about this are stirred up by a concern and care for children today–for the children I don't know and will probably never meet–but children who need the reassuring, encouraging presence of Fred Rogers in their life.

If this means something to you as well, I hope you'll take a moment to check out the site that started this all for me. Brian Linder, a concerned parent from South Carolina, has started a
grassroots campaign to save Mr. Roger's Neighborhood.

Has two quotes on his site that really captured some of what I believe about this program.

The first quote is by Fred Rogers himself in an interview with the Archive of American Television. His is talking about the feelings of nostalgia that his show evokes for the parents that watch along with their children:

If the Neighborhood re-evokes their own childhood, when they were
watching, that could be one of the greatest gifts we’re giving the next
generation because if they’re in touch with who they were as children,
they’ll be able to be far more empathic with their own children. That’s
something really important.”

The other quote is by Chicago artist and father Chris Ware in a letter he wrote to his station, WTTW:

My three and a half year old daughter is in the early throes of
infatuation with the extraordinary person who was Mister Rogers, a man
who left a legacy of one of the most carefully collected, collated and
constructed works of art created specifically to cradle a child’s
fragile, budding sensitivity and ethical consciousness.

Mister Rogers is not flashy, frisky, funky or fantastic. Mister
Rogers is slow moving, awkward, simple, low-rent, and even a little bit
peculiar and disquieting at times. So is life. In fact, it’s about the
last place on television where real life may actually still be found.

I hope you'll take a few moments to explore his site and find out exactly what you can do to make your voice heard on this important issue.

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I received an email last week from Brian about creating a blog button for his campaign. Understandably, he has a full-plate right now, not to mention twin toddlers. I've taken the liberty of creating a blog button by resizing one of the downloadable desktop images on his site. Once I receive the okay from him, I'll be happy to email the code to anyone who is interested in placing a button on their blog as well. Just let me know.

**Brian got back to me last night: Code for a button like the one in my sidebar is below:**

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Has two quotes on his site that really captured some of what I believe about this program.

The other quote is by Chicago artist and father Chris Ware in a letter he wrote to his station, WTTW:

I hope you'll take a few moments to explore his site and find out exactly what you can do to make your voice heard on this important issue.

**Brian got back to me last night: Code for a button like the one in my sidebar is below:**

+++++++++++

19 Comments

animal kingdom / DAILY FARM LIFE / out and about

the care and feeding of guinea keets

That's what all my google searches have been about this weekend. You see, three weeks ago, my oldest daughter and her great-grandmother started to conspire together about getting some baby chicks for our new place. The feed mill had a few orphans, sitting in a plastic tub behind the counter waiting for a home. Each week, their price would go down–$3.00, $2.75, $2.25…..

So three weeks ago, my grandmother drove to the feed store to rescue those little chicks and bring them home to my hardly-able-to-contain-themselves-with-excitement little girls. She arrived home empty-handed. The chicks had been bought by some other well-meaning person that very morning.

So instead, she ordered us five Rhode Island Red ladies to arrive the following week.

Let me tell you two things: First of all, my girls were disappointed that they had to wait. But I was kind of glad to see them wait and prepare for the chicks arrival. A little anticipation and patience builds character, right?

But second of all, if you tell them next week, please let it be next week!! For the past two weeks they've been devising plans to get me to the feed mill to check whether the chicks have arrived. We're running out of kitten feed at an unholy rate. We "desperately" need a rain gauge so Daddy knows how much rain we're getting while he's at work. And apparently I need a new pair of gardening gloves because this pair is so (heaven forbid) dirty!

So we've been checking in many times each week. But the little old lady behind the counter has no specifics, no answers. "We don't know when they'll arrive. We don't get any notice, they just show up."

It's little consolation to my now impatient girls. A week is one thing, but dragging this on for three is too much.

Growing up, I remember having guineas on our farm. The round grey birds were always around, making a lot of noise when a car arrived, roosting in the pine trees at night and probably more often than my young self realized, getting carried off by the local fox.

So when I was perusing the "Farm and Garden" section of CraigsList, my new online obsession, and I happened upon "Gary in PA" who was selling guinea chicks, I quickly made a call.

Dan and I had been talking about getting guineas–good for your garden, good for keeping down your tick population, and just plain neat to have wandering around the place. But when most hatcheries require you to order a minimum of 30(!), I knew we wouldn't be getting any.

But good old Gary made it all come together. On Saturday, we drove out to his little place in Pennsylvania, home to a menagerie of chickens, guineas, ducks and rabbits. And drove home with six sweet little guinea keets to call our own.

I've fretted over temperatures, who's drinking, who's eating, who's making so much noise, for the first few nights, but now things seem to be settling down.

To hold them, is to hold a ball of fluff that is all neck. I imagine them to be like a baby brontosaurus. And they use those necks to squeeze and scramble out of your hold. However, if you'll give them a place to nuzzle down, tuck their head, a nice dark spot, they'll quiet down and most likely fall asleep.

So, we've adopted six guineas. And now that they're here I bet you the feed mill will be calling with our Rhode Island Reds tomorrow. Doesn't it always work that way?

And if you come over, and use our downstairs bathroom, be sure to duck your head under the two by four, that's holding the heat lamp over the large tub, that's holding six noisy keets. Try not to get too sweaty in the 90 degree room, or slip on a pile of woodshavings, or knock over the custom-designed tub of chick feed….

You won't mind, will you?