Oh Kitty, Where is Thy Sting?

Dan here.

One of the pervasive elements of country life is stray kitties. Absent a predator (like our old dog Pepper), they tend to just show up and stay. And then have kittens. And then their kittens grow up and have kittens. And pretty soon you have a whole inbred batch on your hands, acting wierd and swarming around like mosquitos in a Minnesota swamp. In July.

They want food. All the time. They try to sneak in the house. They swarm all around your feet. They put pawprints all over the car. They get in the way under the car. And they even get in the car. It's enough to drive a person insane, especially because they can't make up their mind if they're tame or not, with schitzophrenic results. They love you, because you have food. But at the same time they hate you because you're big, and frankly you look kinda funny.

As of this very evening, Joy's slow transition from cat-lover into despiser of all things feline is likely now complete. What was to be a routine chicken coop run to fetch eggs this evening turned into something out of a bad horror movie. As Joy returned to the house, I heard the door slam shut, followed by her agonized panting, "the cats!" The tone of her voice betrayed fear. I thought for a moment whether I should grab the gun, then thought better of it and came to her aid instead.

As it turns out, the swarm had followed her out to the coop, expecting a treat of some sort. Instead of feeding the cats, however, she grabbed a scoop of chicken grains. This is where the schitzophrenic Dr. Jeykll-and-Mr.Hyde bit comes in. One of the kitties had gotten into the coop and was in the same corner as the grains. The creature, docile only a moment earlier, felt cornered and attacked.

As Joy staggered into the house (okay, she walked just fine, but "staggered" gives the story more of a punch), we surveyed the damages. Through her jeans, there were bleeding clawmarks. No biggie. But then the coup d'etat: four puncture wounds, with purple marks under the skin connecting them. The telltale signs of fangs.

Recalling an earlier post on prudence, off Joy went to the emergency room, where she is at this very moment, getting a tetanus update and a good inspection.

There is also the rabies consideration in mind. Stray cats don't exactly get themselves vaccinated. It sounds like animal control will be paying us a visit tomorrow and rounding up all our cats (except Stewart!) for a ten-day quarantine, since Joy doesn't know exactly which cat it was that did the damage.

Yes, it's just another day on the farm.

Update (12/29): Good news! Because the bite was on an extremity (the leg) as opposed to someplace closer to the head, there's less concern on the rabies front. Also, the cat did not attack for no apparent reason - it felt provoked. So, it's not a huge concern. To be safe, though, we get to play our own version of animal control called "Kitty Roll Call". For the next ten days, as long as we have the same number of kitties and they all look healthy, everything's fine. If one goes missing, however, then it could get interesting...

Update (12/30): Joy is doing just fine! No kitties missing yet. Joy is really proud of the bruise she got on her leg around the bite and is showing it off for all who want to see.

Happy Feast of Saint Anastasia!

I hope you all had a blessed Christmas. Now that the weather settled down and we dug ourselves out of the snowbank, we've been having fun family times all week at Grandpy and Yai's house in Minneapolis. We attended a Children's Christmas Eve Mass nearby (they sang "Kermit's Christmas Wish". Not very Liturgically Correct. But cute!) It's fun to see Ana growing and soaking in everything.

Then we had the Prescott Christmas dinner. The word "present" now rolls off Ana's tongue quite well. And Ana loves her cousins! It was a busy Prescott household.

Not to be overlooked is that Christmas is also the feast day of Ana's patron saint, St. Anastasia the Martyr. Although little is known for certain about this 4th century saint, legend holds that after she converted to Christianity, her husband, a Roman nobleman, became upset at this and started to mistreat her. No doormat of his, she remained firm in her Christian faith, while staying faithful to him as well. Later, after his death left her as a widow, she spent her days giving alms to the poor and sick. (One of her titles is "Anastasia the Healer" - and she is often depicted as above - holding a vial.) This activity of hers caught the ire of the officials as being a dead giveaway that she was a Christian, and eventually she was exiled and martyred atop a burning pyre.

The name Anastasia means "resurrection," and it's fitting that this saint, named after Christ's resurrection, was given the honor of giving her life for her faith. Pope John Paul II frequently reminded us that the blood of the martyrs is the seedbed of the faith - meaning that when some sacrifice mightily for their faith, it brings forth new life.

We chose her to be the patron saint of our daughter for this reason. She exemplified the spirit of fidelity and charity that we hope to inculcate in Ana. But we can't do it alone. Saint Anastasia, please pray for her!

The View From Here

Blue Sky. Sun-Dog. Blizzard.

Freedom.

I am one of those people who really enjoy reading a little in bed before I turn out the lights and go to sleep. It's been that way as long as I can remember. Even before I learned to read, I remember being awake after my dad tucked me in and listening to the night sounds or playing quietly in my bed for a time, and only then could I roll over and fall asleep.

So, the other night, I was laying in bed, reading Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little Town on the Prairie, book five of the series I think, when I read something that got me really excited. In fact, it kind of kept me awake for a while. In the book, Laura is around 14 or 15, and she and her Pa and Mary are in town witnessing the 4th of July celebrations and singing "My Country 'Tis of Thee," when it strikes her what the meaning of freedom in this country is. It is the most concise and plain definition of freedom that I have come across and makes a clear distinction between freedom to pursue the good (the original meaning of freedom) and freedom from constraint to do whatever one wants (the muddled version that has become so virulent.) I can't believe I never noticed it sooner. Here she is:

The crowd was scattering away then, but Laura stood stock still. Suddenly she had a completely new thought. The Declaration and the song came together in her mind, and she thought: God is America's king.

She thought: Americans won't obey any king on earth. Americans are free. That means they have to obey their own consciences. No king bosses Pa; he has to boss himself. Why (she thought), when I am a little older, Pa and Ma will stop telling me what to do, and there isn't anyone else who has a right to give me orders. I will have to make myself to be good.

Her whole mind seemed to be lighted up by that thought. This is what it means to be free. It means you have to be good. "Our father's God, author of liberty --" The laws of Nature and of Nature's God endow you with a right to life and liberty. Then you have to keep the laws of God, for God's law is the only thing that gives you a right to be free.

I couldn't have said it beter.

O Happy Fault ...

That gained me a use for sour milk.

This last weekend, I handed Dan a full gallon jar of raw milk that was sure to spoil in the next day or two with the instructions to feed it to the chickens. Recall the below zero temps over the weekend and you will understand why that jar sat on the counter for the next three days.

Yesterday, I picked up the jar to bring to the chickens, finally, and noticed something was different. Typically, your normal grocery store milk at this point would be rancid and disgusting: perfect fare for chickens. However, this milk had formed a perfect curd surrounded by whey. What the?!?!?

Pasteurized milk is heated to kill all the nasty bacteria that thrive in milk. But it also kills all the good bacteria and enzymes that is normally present in milk. In raw milk, both are present, and the good bacteria keep the bad in check. That, and if left to sour on a warm counter top, will make cultured CHEESE!

Yessir. After I scooped out a hearty cup of the soured milk and made the absolute fluffiest and tastiest dumplings I've ever had, I heated the curd to thicken it and then drained the whey. The result? Cottage cheese. Num num num num ...

Checking In.

Thought folks might want to know how some of our more, shall we say, experimental goings on at the farm are doing.

The chickens are so cozy and snug in their new little chicken coop. They have passed the frickin freezing test what with fifteen below temps and 40 mph winds. The downside is now that they aren't grazing outside all day the scratch grains are gone in a flash! Since I can't haul a fifty pound bag of grain from Runnings by myself, I am currently boiling a nice big pot of beets I saved in our root cellar. Ah gardening, you are beautiful all year round.

Our wood burning furnace is in full swing. The oil furnace still has to run a bit, even to keep our house at a frosty 60 degrees. But, our extra work of chopping and hauling wood is paying off I think.

Eating off of our stored garden produce is working somewhat. We have been noshing on quite a few homemade pizzas, spanish omelettes, soups, and oatmeal garnished with mulberries. For the sake of variety, we still buy a few things here and there along with the butter and milk staples. But by and large, our grocery bill has definately taken a turn for the better.

So, I'd say we're having a successful winter so far. And though the early winter sock in may dampen spirits a bit, Dan and I were delighted to remember that it's only a few weeks from seed catalog season, and only 2 and a half months until we can start tapping the maples.

And frankly, there is nothing better than spending the afternoon outside fitting taps and planning the garden after a few long months of bitter cold: the air just beginning to turn earthy, the ground giving into footsteps just a little.

Daddy Loves Ana.

This is what you get when Dan gives Ana a drawing lesson.

Brrrrrrrrrr!

Yesterday, Dan and I drove to Minneapolis just for the day to take in some tasty lunch at Kramaracuk's, some shopping downtown, Mass at Our Lady of Lourdes, and topped off with a Christmas party with some old friends. It was a wonderful day, but somewhat anxious since we were ready to rush home at any moment if the dreaded ice and snowstorm were to hit.

Well, it held off until at least 2am, at which time we were sound asleep in our toasty bed back home at the shire. But we woke up to a howling blizzard and the thermometer at zero. Dan turned on the T.V. to see that Redwood Falls, only a half our east, was still at 35 degrees. The storm must have just overtook us! It was a little exciting.

So, with treacherous conditions still asailing outdoors, we are pretty much socked in for the day, Gaudate Sunday.

Gaudate means rejoice, and it's a kind of mark in the middle of Advent when we take a small break from waiting, and we rejoice knowing that the birth of Jesus is nearly upon us.

It's kind of a nice way to spend a socked in day!

Goodbye to one of our Dear Shepherds.

I just heard word from Dan that Cardinal Avery Dulles, the celebrated convert, teacher, prolific author, first American theologian and US Jesuit elevated to the College of Cardinals, the dean of American theologians and a giant of the age, not to mention the dissertation director of our friend Dave Deavel, died last night at the age of 90.

Throughout his life he had done many great things to the glory of God, not the least of which was to help thousands gain a clearer understanding of God and His Ways.

Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord.

Vows.

Want silence at the dinner table? Give her a big bowl of squash.

Riki Tiki Tavi

That should be Ana's new nickname. The girl ate five scrambled eggs this afternoon in rapid, and I mean very rapid, succession. Good thing eggs is what we got.

The Top Ten Signs that Joy is Nesting (in preparation for Baby Boy Wambeke), by Dan

10) Photos of Ana as a baby, in storage for well over a year, are suddenly being sought out and displayed.

9) Joy's baby sling collection is color-coded and stored in alphabetical order.

8) "So, do you have a strong preference for either the FuzzyBunz or Tinkle Traps?" has become a typical conversation starter.

7) Bakery items in the house are found to be infused with an extra helping of chocolate chips. There is no protest from Dan.

6) Previously petrified at the mere thought of having to dress a boy, Joy is caught stealing covetous glances at some of these and these.

5) The messy pile of stuff in the basement that never got put away is slowly disappearing. Where it's going, we don't ask.

4) Joy's latest knitting project becomes Rib Cuff Baby Booties

3) When re-reading Little House on the Prairie, Joy doesn't settle for just one Little House book. She has to have a second reference - the Little House Cookbook - on her lap at all times.

2) The "internet history" list on Joy's computer is very revealing: www.joyofbaking.com, www.marthastewart.com, www.thediaperhyena.com, and www.theloopyewe.com.

And, the Number One sign that Joy is nesting, in preparation for Baby Boy Wambeke, is:

1) Lots of pregnant belly kisses with mommy and Ana.

I'm not quite sure she gets it.

Ana's puppy gets a time out.

Oh, people people.

Thanks to my poopsie, Dan, for alerting me to this anomaly. I usually can't stand Nick Coleman, one of the columnists at the Star Tribune. Everytime he opens his mouth, I generally want to scream. And just for the record, so does Katherine Kersten, but to a lesser degree. Half the time she's okay, but other times she makes me, as a Catholic, want to walk around with a bag over my head. But I digress. Yesterday's column by Nick Coleman was right on. Especially with this statement: "This country is becoming too stupid to live." Check out the column here.

Round these here parts, we try our darnedest to get all of our Christmas shopping done before Advent begins so we can ignore the throngs of shoppers and focus on becoming more meditative while we wait for Christ's birth. I suspect many of you try to do something to slow down for the Christmas season. Comments are open for everyone to share their ways to become more Advent Interior.

And while you're thinking of your ways to become Interior, here's todays Old Testament reading. I love this one:

On that day,
A shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse,
and from his roots a bud shall blossom.
The Spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him:
a Spirit of wisdom and of understanding,
A Spirit of counsel and of strength,
a Spirit of knowledge and of fear of the LORD,
and his delight shall be the fear of the LORD.
Not by appearance shall he judge,
nor by hearsay shall he decide,
But he shall judge the poor with justice,
and decide aright for the land’s afflicted.
He shall strike the ruthless with the rod of his mouth,
and with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked.
Justice shall be the band around his waist,
and faithfulness a belt upon his hips.

Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb,
and the leopard shall lie down with the kid;
The calf and the young lion shall browse together,
with a little child to guide them.
The cow and the bear shall be neighbors,
together their young shall rest;
the lion shall eat hay like the ox.
The baby shall play by the cobra’s den,
and the child lay his hand on the adder’s lair.
There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain;
for the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the LORD,
as water covers the sea.

On that day,
The root of Jesse,
set up as a signal for the nations,
The Gentiles shall seek out,
for his dwelling shall be glorious.

-Isaiah 11:1-10

Night Sky.

So, the other night Dan and I noticed a red star in the southwestern sky that shone much brighter than the other stars in the sky. We figured it would be Mars. But no, as Dan found out tonight, it was, and still is, Jupiter. And there is what looks like another very bright star just above it which, as it turns out, is Venus. Take a look for yourself round abouts six or seven at night. It's a beautiful sight.

Speaking of beautiful sights, I was once again going through old pictures of Ana (must be a pregnant lady thing) and found one of my favorites of her sleeping when she is around five months old. I'm pretty sure we're in the Sawtooth mountains in this shot. Makes me tear up every time. Really, it's the fist under the cheek thing.

It must've been Dan who took this picture because as you can see Ana is slightly out of focus, and let's face it, I take a perfect picture every time. Or not?

Bangkok, Babies and Desk Job Antedotes.

Just a few notes from around the farm. Dan has had a fun weekend doing man's work. He spent yesterday and today tooling around and tidying things up. Yesterday he tooled about the farm in the skid loader dropping things off here and taking other things there, and today he chopped up lots of fallen trees for firewood. Yep, he's feeling pretty masculine right about now. It was the perfect antedote for his desk job.

Most of the big news around here isn't happening to us though. Our friends Seth and Teresa just had a baby boy today (Big time congrats!) and our friends Jenny and Russ and their two kids Manny and Gigi are stuck in Bangkok until the political activists who are causing the airport shutdown decide to call it a day and GO HOME. I think it's been shut down now for almost a week. Ack. I think I'd rather be Seth and Teresa.

LaVar Burton, Move Over.

Snug as a Bug.

I love these mornings when I wake up wide awake with an hour to spare before Ana does. The house is so quiet. The air outside is usually completely still, and lately very dark. I try to get in at least 10 minutes of quiet every morning, but an hour!! That's luxury.

Last night, I was up a bit late enjoying a new find from the library: Tasha Tudor's Heirloom Crafts. For those of you who don't know Tasha Tudor, she was a children's book illustrator and lover of the country life. She illustrated over 100 children's books with a very old-fashioned style. They are quite beautiful, and I much prefer them over the cartoon-y appearances of kids books like Dora and others. The book gave me many ideas for home crafts. Especially the melon baskets made from ash wood (which the Shire has an abundance). Very dangerous.

But the one craft I've lately attached my spare time to looking further into is making a braided wool rug. It seems it's not difficult at all, and with some patience and only a little money, Ana's room can have a nice rug for her to run over.

In other news, we've been the happy recipients of yet another of my brother's cast-offs: a toddler bed! It couldn't have come at a better time. We were starting to make plans to retro fit Dan's twin long (and super tall) bed from his childhood to make it easier for Ana to crawl in and out of when Aaron's wife Jodi called and offered their little bed. It is so cute, just like a hobbit bed. Which is fitting, because Ana's feet are huge for her little body: just like a hobbit's feet.

And she loves it. We were a tad worried that we'd have to play the "Go back to bed" game last night, but she only crawled out once. Dan met her at the door and told her that if she got out of bed, she's have to sleep in her crib. Well, that did it. She hippity hopped right back into her little bed and dove under the covers. Two minutes later and she was sawing toothpicks.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! And don't forget, Advent starts on Sunday. Hoo, where did that come from?

Honestly.

Do I have the cutest child or what?

I am shameless, I know. Show me a mother who isn't.

Speaking of motherhood, these last few days, it has really been striking me what an incredible time of life Dan and I are in. To be blessed with not just one but two of these little amazing creatures. And the happiness that we've been having with little Ana, and now knowing that we're having another one ... it is unspeakable.

Being parents has really gotten us out of ourselves, if that makes any sense. And, speaking for me only, being out of myself is far and above more fulfilling and is making way more just content that I ever could have imagined.

I can't thank God enough for the gift of these children.

And thank you God, for having Ana still asleep at 8am.

And speaking of shameless mothers, probably the most shameless mother of all time has her birthday today: It is the Presentation of Mary! This morning, I re-read Luke 1: 46-55 and remembered the glory that was brought to the humblest of servants. It really must be one of the most beautiful lines ever written. Take a looksee:

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior;
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.
From this day all generations will call me blessed:
the Almighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his Name.
He has mercy on those who fear him
in every generation.
He has shown the strength of his arm,
he has scattered the proud in their conceit.
He has cast down the mighty from their thrones,
and has lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has come to the help of his servant Israel,
for he has remembered his promise of mercy,
The promise he made to our fathers,
to Abraham and his children for ever.

Oh the Japanese.

I can say that because I'm half Thai. And while Thais aren't Japanese, who can tell? You know those Orientals. They all look alike.



And if you think THAT's funny, you should hear my mom doing her impression of Mandarin Chinese.

Belly Check.

At nearly 25 weeks. And I still have HOW much longer??

Don't get me wrong here. I honestly don't mind all that much pregnancy and all the joys and discomforts that come along with it. Most of the time. We just can't wait to meet this little person. Especially now that we know how great it is to be parents.

I should also mention that the headache I had last week turned out to be just one of the many symptoms of this years flu. How do I know? Last Friday, Dan woke up with a high temp, chills and sweats. All this lasting through Sunday, at which time The Monster Headache was added and stayed with him until Tuesday. Poor guy. At least now I have someone with whom to share the agonizing experience.

Sweaters and the Poor Birds!

It's complete. Ana's new sweater. Check out those cables. Get a load of the even stitching. Me? Proud?

Ana seems to like it. She doesn't like wearing clothes in general, so she's not head over heels. But she does like to point out the owls. It's really cute (of course!).



In other news, the other day, while Dan and I were driving around, a big wind came up and took a group of birds by surprise. So much, in fact, that they were unable to avoid our oncoming car. I think we single handedly caused the chickadee mortality rate in SW Minnesota to double that day. When we reached our destination, and exited the car, we were stunned to find one of the deceased birds stuck in our front grill, much like you'd find a dragonfly or other some such insect. There was much dismay among the humans, and much delight among the cats. To us, it was an unintended and unnecessary death. To the cats, it was dinner:



Gianna update: Please keep the prayers coming! Gianna is cancer free, but she is experiencing a rather rare syndrome in which her body acts as if the tumor is just starting, not actually gone. So, she is very lathargic, still can't breath without a vent, has tremors, seizures and her eyes constantly shake. The syndrome is so rare, that her doctors are baffled and have no idea how long it will last. Yes, it's a marathon for the Samountry's.

Outside, Over There

Late last week I received an invite to a baby shower for my friend Amy. I was a bit surprised for a couple of reasons. One, it has been maybe a year since I last talked to her, probably longer. She has been here, there and everywhere dealing with an awful and reoccuring brain tumor. So, to hear from her so suddenly and with such news took me off guard. Secondly, I knew they were hoping to have a baby for years and years, but because she had extensive chemo her first time around with this nasty tumor about ten years ago, her and her husband Chris had been hoping in vain. So, what's the deal-eo?

Well, mystery solved. I read on her caring bridge site that they have adopted a sweet little boy named James. I have to admit, a tear fell on my keyboard when I read the news. I knew they were trying for an abroad adoption only to be met with several slammed doors as soon as agencies found out about Amy's condition. But, it seems, an open domestic adoption was the answer. We couldn't be any happier for Amy, Chris and OF COURSE little James.

And another happy thing? We get to bring our favorite childhood book as a gift to little James at his baby shower. I love sharing my favorite: Maurice Sendak's Outside Over There. The pictures are so beautiful (see above), if the story a little strange (like most of his books). But it delighted my imagination. I hope James loves it as much as I did!

Flu bugs and grapefruits.

My wonderful husband is one of the healthiest people I know. While Ana and I develop chest colds from every sneeze we come across, Dan seems to stay healthy winter after winter.

Poor guy. He has his once every five years flu bug. I'm not sure, but I think he's risen from the couch all of three times today. Each time to go to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, Ana and I found the biggest bag of grapefruits on sale at the grocery store! All hail the Texas Grapefruit and the time of year when it's sold in 20 pound bags for ten bucks! We've been noshing down those two at time I tell you. Ana has a great time with the peels while I de-segment the segments and we eat them as one might a mandarin orange (sans peel and that funny opaque skin).

I was able to make a couple of sourdough loaves today, which turned out way better than I imagined they would! They rose nice and high, but the flavor isn't very good yet. A few more batches and the flavor should come in.

Time for tea! Good night all!

O Flannel. I love you.

This must be the earliest date of the calendar year that I've given in, accepted winter, and implemented the flannel sheets. Today, me and Ana washed the sheets and put them on our bed. Poor thing. I wish I could find flannel sheets for her crib. Hopefully soon, she will decide that a big bed isn't so bad after all, and she can enjoy the bliss that is flannel-ness.

Flannel sheets really are a great thing. As soon as Dan and I crawl into bed, it already feels warm. Especially when aided by our trusty rice bag: Five pounds of rice poured into an old pillow case with the opening knotted closed. We zap it for four minutes and then slip it under the covers right where our feet go. Nothing compares. I even woke up a few nights ago at 2am, and it was still warm.

In other news, the last few weeks Ana has been doing this thing where she gets a very serious look on her face and says "Hockey?" like it was a question. It has taken us this long to figure out what she is actually saying, but we did it. She is saying "Hungry?" you know, that she is hungry!! How many times have we not known what she was saying and let her go hungry? Oh the perils of toddlerhood. At least now we know.

Good night and stay warm!

We find ourselves an extra night in Minneapolis than we had planned, thanks to the threat of slippy roads. It's been rather nice staying in during this nasty weather. So, I won't complain.

I am, however, missing the fun that awaits me at home. I am trying to start some sourdough culture on my counter top. And just before we left, it was really active and I can't wait to get home, stir it a few times, and ask it how it's doing. I am intrigued by a bread that does it's rising overnight. You really can't beat a bread that you can eat warm out of the oven with breakfast as opposed to right before bed which is when we usually eat it at our house.

Which brings me to this thought: Since when did I get excited about silly little chores? If you had told me fifteen years ago that I would froth with excitement over making bread, finding organic whole barley for 85 cents a pound, or triumphing over diaper rash I would've laughed and laughed. But that was well before I had met Dan, or knew Ana. I guess that's what love does. Makes a girl all homemake-y.

Well, I'm off to bed. TTFN.

Thoughts on Prudence, by Dan

Prudence, St. Thomas Aquinas teaches us, is the virtue which enables us to choose good ideals and avoid evil ones by way of individual, concrete actions. It is an "intellectual" virtue, meaning that it resides in our intellect, and informs our intellect's reasoning process. Of course we mortals are finite, and only have access to a limited amount of information with which to base our decisions, nevertheless Aquinas affirms that we can sufficiently exercise our virtue of prudence, even with the limited information we possess.

Parenthood, by its nature, is full of opportunities to exercise this virtue of prudence. In principle, we want nothing but the best for our children and spouses: health, happiness, and a strong relationship with God. But we must strive towards these abstract principles by way of choosing particular actions and avoiding others, and in so doing, we exercise prudence. Or at least, we try to. Some of these choices are easy, such as "No, Ana, I know it's pretty and red, but you can't play with my Swiss Army Knife." Some, however, are not as clear-cut. Do we let her watch a third episode of Winnie the Pooh in a row, or is two really enough right now for her growing brain?

Far too frequently, we rub up against the limits of our knowledge. For how can we be adequately trained in everything we might encounter? Our bodies are fragile; parents are often called upon to make medical diagnoses that are beyond their ability. When is a headache more than just a headache?

Such is the situation in which we found ourselves this weekend. Friday saw, for Joy, the advent of a headache that put all prior headaches to shame, being impervious to the assaults of Tylenol and other home remedies. A headache is a very routine thing; except of course when it isn't. And Joy is not one to typically suffer a headache (except when she misses her morning coffee, but that's a whole other story...). But panic and rash judgment are firmly opposed to prudence, so we merely retired for the evening to see how a good night's sleep might affect things.

Awakening at 2:00 in the morning with the "mother of all headaches," we knew that the situation might need careful monitoring. This was an unusual event. Aquinas helpfully breaks prudence down into its basic components, four of which are: memory, foresight, shrewdness, and understanding. Memory told us that a really bad headache could be a sign of something more serious. Foresight told us that if we didn't find out more information we wouldn't be able to make a good decision, which could have horrible consequences. Shrewdness told Joy to think outside the box; she had just gotten together with a friend who had recently recovered from meningitis; could it possibly be this dreaded disease sneaking up unannounced? As for understanding - well, we didn't have any; neither of us knew anything about meningitis, except that it's a really bad thing. That, of course, is where the internet comes in. Mere seconds after typing "meningitis" into Google, we were sufficiently relieved to know that meningitis was likely off the table. Joy had passed the "can you touch your chin to your chest?" test, which, if failed, would have signalled a likely diagnosis. We had enough understanding to retire for the evening, convinced it was likely no more serious than a migraine. Of course, our knowedge still being limited, we really didn't know...

Waking on Saturday, the throbbing was still omnipresent. Nevertheless, we had a "coffee date" that was not to be missed. En route, however, Joy called her midwife to see if there was a more potent weapon than just Tylenol that she could take. That conversation, however, turned out to be anything but routine. After a gruelling interrogation, with Joy frequently answering "well, yes, I have had those symptoms too" the nurse told Joy to go to the emergency room right away; the fear was that it was possible that she had pre-eclampsia. Never mind that we had just sat down at the coffee shop, muffin and mocha in hand. But, as Aquinas teaches, docility - that is, respect for those who have more knowledge than us - is another component of prudence. So after an abbreviated breakfast, off we dutifully went to find a doctor. A diagnosis of pre-eclampsia was nothing to sniff at - it typically means bedrest for the rest of the pregnancy.

Attempting to be prudent with something else - our finances - we remembered that Urgent Care was open and opted to stop there instead. Surely they could do a once over and tell us what's going on, right? Well, as it turns out, no. Or as the nurse told us, "The doctor thinks this is something more appropriate for the hospital. Go to Labor & Delivery." Labor and Delivery? Gulp. This *must* be serious.

Labor & Delivery wasted no time admitting Joy, and beginning the barrage of tests. One by one the tests were done, and one by one they came back with pretty normal results. But achieving this knowledge took time. The hours passed. Fortunately Ana was having a happy day over at Grandma and Grandpa's. Having her taken care of and off our minds was a blessing. For our part, we had a nice time passing the time watching cable TV.

About five hours later, we were sent home, secure in the knowledge that, whatever the headache was (a migraine? we still don't know), it wasn't anything serious. It was *just* a headache. And it was okay for Joy to take a little extra dose of Tylenol than normal to take the pain down a notch.

Now, we eagerly await the hospital bill. I'm sure we'll have lots of laughs (and perhaps shed a few tears) over the cost it took to determine that Joy was having, well, a headache. No overkill here. Then again, Aquinas gives us yet another component of prudence to ponder over: caution. We're talking about two irreplaceable people here - Joy & Baby Boy Wambeke. There's no dollar figure or amount of time spent that could ever equal their worth. So thanks, Thomas Aquinas! You've helped me feel a lot better. If we nailed any part of prudence this weekend, it's that we were cautious. Really cautious.

As the children grow, we'll have many more opportunities to practice prudence, I'm sure. Here's hoping that we keep erring on the side of caution!

Chinese Doughnuts, Egg Rolls and Cream Cheese Wontons

Today didn't go even close to plan.
More about that later. Dan wants to do a Dispatch on that whole story.

I have been granted permission to describe what happened at the end of the afternoon. Dan and I were on our way to pick up Ana from Grandma and Grandpa's house, and decided to stop off at the only Chinese (or any asian food for that matter) place in Marshall: The Panda Buffet. We had pretty much sworn off any Chinese buffet's after a harrowing experience at The Nasty(Barf) Chinese Buffet in Boise. But, we were feeling charitable, and I had a hankering for egg rolls.

So, we walk into The Panda Buffet where we found we could fill up to go boxes from the buffet for $9 each. Kinda spendy if you ask me. Dan thought so too and told me so when I started my box with white rice ("We can make that at home," he said.) Aha. Fill up our boxes with as much gun powder as we possibly could for a bigger bang. I follow. This strategy was never better illustrated when, before we left, Dan piled the top of his box with chinese doughnuts, egg rolls and cream cheese wontons. Hmmmm, his weaknesses have been exposed.

Once we got home, I made a batch of white rice and we settled in for a dinner of tasty goodness. It wasn't so bad. But it wasn't Sawatdee food, it wasn't the Lotus, and it FOR SURE wasn't my mom's thai cooking.

Quickies.

Some quick pics so Dan can see Ana enjoying her first cognition of snow!

A Looksee Please.

Take a peek at this, and sign it if you wish. I post it because I think we can all agree (pro-life and pro-choice) that our common goal is to whittle down the number of abortions in this country. And that establishing a fundamental right to unrestricted access to abortion would increase, not decrease, abortions.

Rainy Day!

Ana is on her weekly date with Grandma (whom she calls Mag with emphasis on the "g"). These typically last all day, which means I get a day to tackle projects without interruption.

Usually, I spend a whole lot of time in the garden or other some such outdoor project. But, today it's raining, and the garden has already been tucked away for the winter (save for my beloved kale which lasts until late November. I love you kale!)

I did have two little projects to take care of. One, changing out headlight on the accord. And two, scrubbing clean the carpet of the accord's trunk. Followed by a healthy downpour of baking soda. You see, Stewart got locked in the trunk last Saturday night. We didn't find him until Sunday morning, when, on our way to church, we heard a pitiful howl. Poor guy. Needless to say, he had made the trunk his home for the preceding 12 hours. And I mean home, and all the facilities that come with homes. SO, I spent a portion of the morning scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing.

Now that that's all finished, I find myself in an empty but warm house. Not even noon yet. I guess I have nothing to do but give myself a pedi, do some knitting, and make some yummy things in the kitchen.

Here's one thing I'm working on right now for me and Ana to gobble up once she comes home:



I know it doesn't look like much. But this soup must be the top of our winter favorites. Roasted vegetables pureed and simmered with navy beans and kale (love the kale!). Oh so delicious. Here's the recipe from Simply Recipes if you find yourself in the mood for this earthy soup over the next cold snap.

Fantasies.

I swore I'd never do it.
I'm reading The Hobbit. Again.

I read it once, back in junior high. And I couldn't tell you any one scene in the entire book because fantasy just. takes. it. out. of. me.

But, after Kristin Lavransdatter and Jewel, I got the urge to read something classic and set in medeival times. Enter The Hobbit.

I'm not committing my choice to the iron clad side bar that is "I'm currently reading ... " That will remain my cereal box. For now. But I may change my mind in the near future and show the world that a Little Women lover can simultaneously enjoy (gulp) fantasy. Well, at least J.R.R. Tolkein fantasy.

Election Day!

Well, happy Election Day to everyone! I hope everyone got out to vote, and by the sounds of it there were record numbers. That is great news.

My mom and I just listened to McCain's concession speech, which I thought was very nicely done. Very gracious, which is refreshing.

I must say, it is always inspiring to me to see so many people voting; even though we don't all agree on how things ought to be, we are still one community working together and participating in helping choose our leaders.

It's also funny to see old Caribou customers as political commentators on the news. Here's Brian Lambert on Fox News talking big words and with furrowed brow, and all I'm thinking is "That guy was (and probably still is) a coffee fiend."

In other news, it seems running after a toddler all day is heck on vericose veins.

Ick.

Oh November.

Why do you always start so nice?
It was a beautiful day, with lots of sun and little wind.

Dan and I made sure we had no plans except yard work today. Which was good, because Ana was in no mood to do, really, much of anything except practice throwing tantrums.

This morning, Dan built a fire around a stump where we are planning on building a Sugar Shack for our maple syruping operation. Much of it is gone, even as I type! While he did that, me and Ana made german pancakes which are a lot like those panakoeken's (how the heck is that spelled?). So good.

After breakfast we all mosey'ed to the garden to start prepping it for winter. Dan hacked down the sunflower stalks while I attempted to stack tomato cages. I say attempted because Ana let me do about 2 or so before her first tantrum erupted. It was about 11am at this point. And let's just say I didn't make it out again until 2:30. At which time I finished the tomatoes.

At 3:30, I came back to the house to find that Ana had taken a brief nap and woke up a BEAR. So, while I endured more Ana fun, Dan spent the rest of the afternoon finishing up the garden. He was able to take down the corn stalks, scythe the grasses that had sneakily sprung up between the straw, put away all the tomato cages and tires, and tuck away the black plastic we use to mulch the tomatoes.

Whew!

And now, post dinner, my husband my hero brought Ana to Wal Mart to get some marshmellows to roast over our stump tonight. And Mommy gets a break.

What a guy.

Today is All Saints day, celebrating all those who have gone before us and now share in the glory of God in heaven. They give me hope that it can be done!! And tomorrow is All Souls day, which is a commemoration of ALL the faithful departed, so all the saints in heaven, and those who weren't totally perfect when they died and are spending some extra time in good old purgatory being cleansed of those last buggers. Pray for them!!

Here are some photos that are aching to be shared. Well, I'm aching to share them. How's that?

Here's Ana in her posture de rigeur.

Cute tub shot from last weekend when Jenny and Russ brought their two little ones, Manny and Gigi. I think this one's my favorite.

Here's Ana about to go trick or treating. She's Laura Ingalls (of course!). We had to improvise with Poppa's hanky on her head because, although I thought they closed at 5, the Walnut Grove museum closed at 4! So we missed our chance to buy a sun bonnet. Oh well. But look! She even has her little corn cob baby: Sally!

The sun is far enough to the south now that it shines directly through our kitchen sink window. It is so nice to get the warmth of the sun on these chillier days.

The only down side is that while I'm making dinner or some such, and because we STILL don't have curtains in our kitchen, said sun shines directly into my eyes making an otherwise enjoyable task somewhat frustrating.

Well, today I decided to pull out some old curtains from the bedroom of our old condo to see if they would work on the window. They were perfect. And I must say, the window looks a lot nicer and every task done at the window seems just a bit cheerier now.

Now, about the other two windows in the kitchen ...

Book Review: Kristin Lavransdatter

It's done. I finally finished the trilogy Kristin Lavransdatter. Here is the short synopsis to get you all interested in reading it: The story follows Kristin, a passionate, beautiful and pious young woman, who lives in medieval Norway. She falls in love with a reckless man, Erland, and falls into sin. The story follows her life and is as much a story of her soul as it is a painting of 1300's Scandanavian landscape.

Undset wrote it with such beauty, wisdom and insight. It far surpassed my expectations. In fact, I have all but given up on writing my own stories, as it appears the perfect story has already been written. I am afraid to even think about reading another book, because it is bound to disappoint.

Yes, Kristin Lavransdatter will be a tough act to follow. So, please. Do yourself a favor and read these books. They are absolutely wonderful. Little House on the Prairie has a replacement. (And now you KNOW I'm serious.)

And a HUGE thank you to Natalie Henningsgaard for recommending this treasure to me.

NOTE: Check out my new movie picks on the right hand side of this page. Majid Majidi!! Gotta see these movies!!!

20 kids.

That's right. I said 20.

And speaking of 20, that's the temp we're supposedly going to stoop to tonight. And thank God for mother-in-laws. Mine sacrificed her afternoon to help me dig up the rest of our carrots and potatoes.

Only, I spend 2.5 hours trying to get Ana to nap only to have her not nap and then I just had a cranky toddler on my hands. So by 3:30, I strapped her into the car seat and forced her to close her eyes by driving around for an hour. By the time I got back, poor Helen had dug and scrubbed a bushel of carrots and was getting ready to transport the two bushels of potatoes to our basement.

She did it all on her own.

And if it hadn't been for her, our potatoes and carrots would have been lost to frozen soil.

Three cheers for in-laws!

It's been a typical weekend round the shire.

Jenny and Russ brought their two little ones to the farm for some good times. And that is most certainly what we had! Friday night we noshed on some tasty chile while the kids got reacquainted with each other. Within an hour they were already fighting with each other, so you know, mission accomplished.

Saturday we spent the day visiting our neighbors cows, picking field corn and pretending they were corn babies (you know, like Laura Ingalls!), going for a long walk, examining pumpkins and being harassed by chickens.

Then, on Sunday morning we stuffed our faces with pancakes at the Pro-Life Breakfast in Marshall.

And the whole time I'm thinking, wouldn't it be great to have 20 kids? But then, Dan said no with a very somber look on his face. Ah yes, I remember now, one at a time Joy. I mean, what if they all did this at the same time?

Young at Heart

Grandpa and Grandma Wambeke, playing with Ana's ball.

The Year's Stock.

Well, the garden year is winding down. And, like last year, I am already thinking of things to do next year.

This year, we successfully grew: Peas, walking onions, yellow onions, green onions, sweet corn, beans, beets, parsnips, lots of different lettuces, kale, radishes, tons of differnt tomatoes, italian eggplant, turkish eggplant, melons, four kinds of potatoes, zucchinis, some different kinds of winter squashes and of course, pumpkins. And we got our strawberries and raspberries started.

Next year, I think the garden will remain status quo for the most part. But we are hoping to plant two kinds of apple trees: Harralson and Honey Crisp (or course! YUM!) And my newest idea is to raise a pig. You see, they are really cheap right now to buy a little feeder pig. Maybe thirty bucks. At that age they are about 2 months old and 40 pounds or so. You can fatten them up during the spring and into early fall on grass, root vegetables, table scraps and milk. Then, come November, you have a 200 pound fat pig ready to butcher. Not a bad idea, but I have to work out all the details still. Like, where his pasture will be, what we will build his house with and so forth.

Plus, there's the whole notion that we are going to be having a super busy spring anyway what with planting the garden and the trees, tapping and boiling maple syrup, birthing a child.

But there it is. And those of you who are thinking that we won't get any of these things done save for the child business (which is inevitable), you have my permission to say "I told you so." I'm hearing it a lot these days anyway. I'm getting used to it.

Ode to the Lowly Bug (and other Creepy-Crawlies). by Dan

Anyone who knows Joy well knows of her, well, terror, of all of God's creatures that come in small forms with multiple legs or tentacles. An ample illustration: it was only a couple weeks ago, when visiting the in-laws, that one of these fine specimens to the right (the "house centipede", otherwise known as Scutigera Coleoptrata) was found to be crawling up the fireplace stone, and Joy gave me that look that said "Please, Dan, do something." I may be brave, but I'm not stupid, so after sheathing my entire hand in 18 layers of paper towel, I went at the dirty task. Meanwhile, Joy hopped back and forth on top of the sofa making gagging noises (not, mind you, for special effect, but simply as an involuntary physiological response). Overheard while this whole debacle took place was the sound of Joy's dad walking into the room, sizing up the situation, and then asking Joy, "Is Dan slaying the dragon for you?"

And so, I thought, it would be fun to catalogue a few of the critters Joy has encountered in her two seasons of gardening. Each has provoked a response from Joy that, while varying in intensity, has always been humorous, and nearly always involved some sort of involuntary guttoral noise.


1) To begin with, there is the ubiquitous cucumber beetle. Kinda cute, but very annoying. Found anywhere where we have squash, pumpkins or zucchini - they chew through the leaves and, if we aren't on top of the situation, can kill the whole plot. After a failed experiment in 100% organic gardening where I attempted to vacuum them all up via the reverse setting on my leaf blower (after vacuuming every dang leaf in the entire garden, I had only captured about 3 bugs...) we have made our peace with the non-organic white powder you can buy in the stores. It kills them. We like that.

2) A very alarming find last year was this little lady, hiding in amongst the tomato plants. Argiope Aurantia, or the Yellow Garden Spider. If looks could kill, every mammal that ever dared set foot in our garden would be dead, with a look of dread forever frozen in place on their remaining corpse. Fortunately, these beauties are harmless (to us anyway. We've seen many a fly, however, spun into a quivering cocoon of terror by one of these no-nonsense ladies, to be set aside for a midnight snack). Needless to say, Joy still kept her distance.

3) Believe it or not, but the lowly earthworm, or Lumbricus Terrestris, is perhaps Joy's greatest nemesis of all. Incredibly useful for keeping soil healthy, they nonetheless fill Joy with an impending sense of doom, and recall to her memory an incident forever known as The Night of the Emergent Earthworms. Ask Joy for the "juicy" details (pun intended) on that one....

4) This year, we saw the arrival of the Squash Bug, or Anasa Tristis. Not even having the benefit of being pretty to look at, these fellas, if left unchecked, devour squash and pumpkin leaves even faster than their friends the cucumber beetles. At times, we had leaves that were gray, being completely covered by these munching maniacs. Fortunately, the Magic White Powder kills them, too.

5) I can't count the number of times that I have assured Joy that we do not have slugs in SW Minnesota. This year, I was proven wrong. They're small, and cute, and don't seem to have done any real damage. But they were unmistakably there.

6) Okay, this one was a false alarm. Attempting to discern why our squash vines were shriveling, Joy was absolutely convinced it was due to these lovely grubs, the Squash Vine Borer. Now, do understand that once they have taken hold, the only way to save your plant is by hand: to take a knife to the vine, cut it open, and extract the squirming larvae with your own fingers. Also understand that Joy was to have no part of this. So off Dan was sent to save the crop, knife in hand. After slitting open vine after vine, only to find nothing, I noticed instead the presence of some eggs of the aforementioned Squash Bugs. Out came the Magic White Powder. Case Closed.

7) Finally, this year a few of our pumpkins were found to have small holes burrowed into their rinds. In a couple cases, the telltale culprit was found wriggling away inside. This critter has yet to be firmly identified, but as of now we suspect the nefarious Melon Worm. Fortunately, we've only lost a few gourds to these varmints, so the damage has been contained.

The good news in all of this is that, we do live in Minnesota, where the winter freeze kills off all but the most hardy (read: small) of insects and critters. Imagine Joy's reaction instead if we were living in Borneo and stumbled across one of these critters in the garden....

Squash the squash!

I'm not sure why, but today and yesterday have been mad dashes filled with freezing or otherwise consuming food about to spoil.

Yesterday, we awoke to the shire blanketed in a thick frost. The temp was supposed to touch the freezing point providing the nice light frost that tasties up our carrots and parsnips still in the ground. But no, it hit a few degrees cooler, making it a hard freeze which froze about 70% of our winter squash. Those delicate and delicious gourds which were sitting unattended and naked under the night sky. So, I spent yesterday and a good part of today roasting and freezing them before they spoil.

Then, last night, after having cooked four cups of rice for our E-Team meeting (to go with Lila's awesome Lamb Stew), we promptly forgot it on the kitchen counter. Well, harvey darn.

Lucky for us, Ana and I were very much in the mood for Kai Pelo this morning, which took care of some of the rice. I believe the rest will go towards fried rice and perhaps rice porridge (which my dad declares is better than pizza!).

I will leave you with this picture of Ana with a mouthful of Kai Pelo.



And now I am going to roast my (hopefully) last batch of squash. All I can say is, it's a really good thing Ana loves squash as much as she does.

Double Sigh.

Last night Dan and I went to Lynd for a meeting that our representative put together on the power lines. We met some folks from the CapX2020 team who are wanting to put up the line, as well as a fellow from the Public Utilities Commission. We didn't learn a lot more than what we already know, but it was nice to meet these people and talk to them face to face about our concerns with the project. We will find out in a few months which of the two routes CapX2020 prefers to build their line on (our house being one of those two routes, of course).

The best part of the meeting with getting to meet the Public Utilities Commission manager who seemed like a straight talker. He didn't provide any spin and told it like it is, even when what it was wasn't very popular.

The worst part was learning that they probably won't be able to string the new lines with any old ones (like the one across the road from us). Ergo, if they choose our route, it likely would have to go through our grove. However, cutting down windbreaks like ours would mean they would likely pay us a tidy sum so we may be able to move our house to a new location on the farm site. Not that we want to do that at all! But, it might afford us that option.

It'll be a long road.

In other news, our little boy is already causing problems. Some of you may remember the raging case of sciatica that I had with Ana. And so it already begins. Enter the dreaded maternity belt. Ana has already taken to it and insists on wearing it herself. Isn't she stylish?

ITS A BOY!

We had our ultrasound today, and it is unmistakable. We are definately incubating a boy. How so sure? He was playing with himself.

Sigh.

Ana's First Bar Brawl.

Well, okay. Just a little header off a step onto the sidewalk. But it sounds way cooler the other way.

Buckeyes.

Today, Ana and I got the inspiration to make these tasty little cookies (or candies, I'm not sure which category they would be put in) called Buckeyes. Aptly named since they look like the Ohio state tree. We saw them on this blog and immediately thought of Daddy who has a fierce fondness for all things peanut butter and chocolate.

Anyhoo, they turned out deliciously. Here's a shot of Ana helping me dip the peanut buttery goodness into the chocolate. Look at that concentration. We're hoping Daddy loves them.




And do check out that link for the blog where I found the recipe. She has much better photos of the final product than I could ever take. And BONUS! She makes and sells her own block prints that are beautiful! Here's my favorite:

And DOUBLE BONUS! She's selling her stuff two for one this Thursday through Sunday. Danger. Here's her etsy shop so you too can get into some hot water: http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5140209

Super Silly!

Oh it was a fun weekend round the shire!
My brother Aaron drove up on Friday to take on the duck opener. After many previous visits sans kill, he finally bagged a few birds. Three geese and two ducks. We are so proud. And bonus, the cats got to nosh on the innards. A good time was had by all.

Besides getting to visit with him, we also had friends over and enjoyed the beautiful weather. Both sunny and rainy. There's nothing like the prairie in the fall.

Today though, Ana and I felt a little lonely. Dan had left early this morning for Minneapolis, and Aaron went home to Woodbury at noon. So, we decided to make a trip to Camden State Park where Ana played on the slides, splashed in the water, rustled red and gold maple leaves, and hunted for sticks. We made an afternoon of it by stopping off at McDonalds for dinner where Ana ate her entire Happy Meal (!) and stared at other kids.

This one's for Dan, who, before Ana was even born, said: I can't wait until she's in the pigtail stage. Ana climbing the playset at Camden, with that super silly grin again:

Harvest

Combines, semi-trailers, big-ol tractors. Ana can say all these words now as the fields surrounding out little house on the prairie are being harvested. It's fun to hear all the commotion during the day (and sometimes into the night). It makes me feel like we actually live on a farm, fancy that.

This morning, Ana and I put on our warmest sweatshirts and romped around the newly cut fields. Here she is with Stew, the two of them examining what was left of Terry's soybeans.



In other news, our very first harvest of sunflowers are coming in. We've pulled a few heads to dry inside the house just in case the birds were to get them before we do. Here's one that is actually mostly dry, right next to my computer.



Tomorrow, more pumpkin sales! Wish us luck!

PS. Did anyone else enjoy the debate last night? I thought both candidates did a very good job. Although, I still am favor to one over the other.

Tater tots anyone?

This is one of those posts that was meant for yesterday. Alas, yesterday was a flurry of emergencies from morning until late late at night. But everything went well! Partly due to the prayers of St. Therese of Lisieux, whose prayers I asked for.

It was her feast day yesterday. I am certain there are people out there wondering why they are called feast days. Back in the early centuries of the Church, when Christianity was illegal in the western world, Christians would gather in the catacombs (or tombs) of saints and celebrate their lives on earth and in heaven with a grand feast. This is a tradition that we continue on today!

St. Therese, a girl who lived and died in the early 20th century, is my favorite saint, for the simple fact that she is like me. Not that I'm a saint, but during her life, she lamented that she couldn't be a missionary and do grand things for God. Somewhere down the line though, she realized that that wasn't going to happen, and she began to see every small thing that she encountered during her day to be a chance to do it for God with as much love and zeal as a missionary would. In this way, her heart became one with Christ's, and very shortly after her death, she was declared a Saint and then a Doctor of the Church, of which there are only 33.

For our feast, we're going to have something I rarely make but Dan absolutely loves: Tater tot hot dish.

Please hold the chortles. I will be sneaking in some nutrition, where, I don't know yet. St. Therese, pray for me.

Ode to the Hand Me Down.

Whoever said Hand Me Down's suck wasn't living on one income. There really isn't a feeling like having to pass up the shiny, new and prohibitively expensive toys at the store, only to come home to a truckload of just as good toys free for the taking with my smiling bro behind the wheel (he's just happy to get rid of them).

The last shipment included the best toy if you are looking for shrieks of giddiness from Ana while awake, and loud in-her-sleep proclamations of "car!" in the middle of the night.

That's right. It's the ubiquitous Little Tykes plastic car. These things must last forever. Because it has lasted through my brother's 3 kids and still has plenty of vroom left.

Here's Ana, lounging in her favorite outdoor patio furniture piece. As you can see, it was taken when it was still warm. Probably around labor day, the last warm day of the summer.

The Best of Friends.

What fun. Ana and her friend Elena actually play together now. Note that it's no longer a staring contest. They interact beyond grabbing each others toys and everything.

It began last week: Dan and I took Ana over to Teresa and Seth's house to play with their little girl Elena and to enjoy great food and a fabulous episode of the Office. And for once, they kept each other busy for almost the entire three hours. To an exhausted parent, it was a liberating three hours.

Anyhoo, tonight Teresa brought Elena over to play with Ana (and to give me someone to talk to, thank God). And play they did!

Here's a shot of the two monkeys, Ana having recently made the fatal error of exposing her stomach. Poor Elena just couldn't resist.

Still a little city.

Because there's still a little city girl in me, Dan and I gave Ana to Grandma today and spent a few hours in Cathedral Hill. We had some business in St. Paul anyway, so it was a nice excuse to take some lunch at the Day by Day Cafe, browse Uncommon Good Books (Garrison Keillor's bookstore) and otherwise enjoy the old houses and fall leaves of St. Paul's beautiful neighborhood.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.

Straw numbers.

Today was a beautiful day on the prairie. The sun was out and the wind was at it's best. There IS a reason Ma, Mary and Laura wore sun bonnets tightly fascinted with reinforced ribbon and not those dainty little straw numbers.

Our rooster has been doing his thing, roosting around and cockadoodle-doing. Ana is fascinated by him and his behavior and calls him "Doo doo" after the noises that he makes. Here he is leading the hens to where the tomatoes are ripe and tasty.



Tonight we also harvested our pumpkins and loaded them up onto Dan Sr's pickup for the market tomorrow morning. Well, Dan and Dan did it. Me and Ana watched.



In other news, I'm trying to get Dan to try my Raspberry leaf tea with the promise that it will get his uterus in shape for the birth. So far, no go.

I will leave you with another wonderful pic of Ana circa three months enjoying a little sleep-in time with mommy. Gotta love babies who will sleep in once in a while. Unfortunately they turn into toddlers who are up at the crack of dawn EVERY. MORNING. And insist on being "uppa" even before mommy has her contacts in. But isn't she so cute with her fuzzy little head and her tiny mouth hanging open?

I nearly forgot, well, okay. I did forget because it started yesterday. But I was going to mention it in this morning's post.

Anyhow, yesterday began 40 Days for Life. Why 40? Because Jesus fasted for 40 days before he was crucified. So, in our teeny tiny efforts to be like him, we fast or pray for 40 days for a specific purpose. Now the purpose is for babies.

I think Amy Welborn said it best: this is not a ‘wedge issue” that “right-wingers” bring out this time of year for fun, not a “single issue” about which some wackos inconveniently and inexplicably obsess, but lives. Check out her blog for more ideas or this one for more information.

Love Taps.

Only 4 months along and I'm already nesting.

Last week I tidied up our newborn stash of diapers by adding another dozen kissaluvs, a nice fitted diaper, to make Dan's life easier. I also purchased some so soft wool longies to make babies bottom so breathable and warm. I got them super cheap from a nice mommy in Park Rapids. They retail at $35 and she sold them to me for $10, which is, like, 5 minutes of picking tomatoes and then 20 minutes of selling them.

As that guy from Dances with Wolves would say with that silly stoic expression: Good trade.

Here's a belly shot to appease Mary.



The little rascal has been kicking mom in the tummy for about a week now. They are like little love taps. It's so sweet. (Insert Mark's barf here)

This weekend we'll be selling our pumpkins at the farmer's market. So get out your carving knives and roasting pans. It's almost October!!!