I give up on August. Meet me in September.

I'm post-dating this entry.
It's actually mid-September and I've been spending the past six months trying to do this blog thing all backwards, remembering things that had happened, and then posting about them.
Here's the facts:
I'm doing some great LIVING, and some awful remembering.
I love summer. 
Here are a few pictures from August.
It was great!

Hiking.

Girls Camp.

News from our missionary.

Family visitors. 

 Kimball's.

 Sunday driving.

 Visits from Enrique.

 Sister time.

Together time.

 Tomato time.

A week in Manhattan.

 Gardening.

 More Hiking.

(Sleeping Giant State Park, CT)

 Friendships.

multi tasking

The garden lettuce is multiplying!

So so much.

School is still in session.

Teresa is integrating into the junior class with Rooney at the High School.

A friend offered to give me some rhubarb.

I told her I didn't really know what to do with it, except maybe look up a recipe for pie/crisp. She told me she had a great recipe for curry.

I jumped on it.

It got mixed reviews.

I really liked it.

Some didn't.

 While juggling final exams, work schedules and garden produce, there is now this new element of the exchange student in the house. And fifty hikes that aren't being racked up as fast as I'd like.

So Monday afternoon Leeli and I took her for a small tour of the local area, and hiked around the pond at Coggeshall park while we were at it.

Checkety-check.

The hibiscus, she BLOOMS

Last week I posted everyday. In my head.

I also kept the laundry hounds at bay, nursed a wisdom teeth patient, did most of the dishes and duked it out a few times (metaphorically speaking) with my growing tween, and then bought myself flowers and ice cream. Sometimes in arctic Mother-landia you have to keep standing your ground and raising your kids whether you're too tired or not.  We got this! Eat ice cream. Hide emergency stashes of chocolate. Or potato chips. Or whatever brings you momentary joy. Flowers help. They brighten MY life more than a teensy bit. Don't ever tell yourself you're not worth a bright and cheery bunch of grocery store flowers. Just throw them in the cart and keep telling yourself "I'm worth at least $6.99 and after the day I've had today, all y'alls out there in the great wide universe are lucky I'm not throwing in a bunch for every room of my house."  I consider them a staple. Life just keeps happening. Things like blogging and sleep go by the wayside. (I read a post or a tee shirt ad about mothers of babies and toddlers being citizens of that existence referred to as #teamnosleep... I hate to break it to these valiant and perky young mothers--brace yourselves if you're one of this bunch reading this little post: when your kids get older and start sleeping like the babies we thought they were when they WEREN'T sleeping through the night, YOU are now the one who can't pull a decent night's sleep out of a drawstring bag. EVER. So Breathe. And consider yourself in #teamnosleep training pants) Many things like basketball games and youth temple trips, visits to our favorite UMass student, lunch with my parents and more Massachusetts snowfall have happened since my last visit here. We keep busy. We now snow-blow and shovel, roof rake and hammer ice dams about as naturally as we eat and breathe and sleep. Maybe more. Life just happens between storms. I bought two more shovels today. We put them to good use on their first day. Gird up your loins. Spring is coming. I planted flower seeds in little pots and put them on my windowsill. I will nurture them and also remind myself to nurture the little seeds of happiness that are stretching inside of me. Shine on.

re: the squash; it's in the genes

OH! The produce.

I love it.

Really. Gardening makes me HAPPY.

But I do get overwhelmed at the way it just comes ALL.AT.ONCE.

Today AGAIN, I picked almost two dozen cucumbers and a few more squash; didn't even glance at the tomatoes and beans, because, well, it was raining, and I had a big pot of vegetable soup simmering on the stove top. What was I going to do with more veggies?  I mentioned the yellow/summer squash in a previous post...  I ended up bringing it to my parents' house.  They have mass produce problems of their own.  I woke up to this email from my mom yesterday morning:

She means business when it comes to sharing the garden goods. Mom's my emergency contact.

Now you see why.

#tirednottired

This morning I put on a skirt and some earrings and went calm and ladylike about my business. Mondays are typically harder than other days, and Mondays after a 10-day vacation when you've been driving for 22 long hours to get home to piles of dirty laundry and needs that must be met by the great and intricate web of family connected to your center are EXHAUSTING. Add in previously scheduled commitments and you've got yourself a prescription for combustion right there. 
Good news: I did not combust. 
(disclaimer: I know that combust is not a word. I don't claim to be an etymologist.)
Here's what I DID do:
-delivered tired 15-year-old to day one of band camp

-delivered equally tired 13-year-old to soccer practice
-tripped to the grocery store and escaped for less than $150
-put the groceries away
-picked up soccer player
-took nine-year-old along to collect 49 marching band uniforms from the dry cleaner
-unloaded 98 hangers-full of marching band parts into the High School band room closets
-felt grateful for a nine-year-old with muscles AND endurance
-returned home to make a few lunches and get shoo husband and oldest daughter off to Scout camp for the week
-spattered some encouragement in the general direction of the 21-year-old who was painting in a bedroom
-facilitated a trip to visit cousins in Northboro, and enlisted same painting son to drive nine-year-old to the meeting point
-had the thought that tomorrow will be MY turn to visit Northboro
-enlisted 13-year-old daughter to join me for my chaperone duties at band camp from 2-4 pm
-pulled the uniform closet at the HS together (this involved lots of pieces and parts of uniforms that needed to be put back together, and then hanging them in numerical order in a hot and sweaty classroom)

-threw my hands up in the air when my commitment to band uniforms was DONE for another year (Whoop!!!)
-brought the sweaty teens home and mustered up the oomph to make dinner: homemade mac and cheese and a pile of garden vegetables
-got nominated for the ALS ice bucket challenge
-thought about it. that was all.

-Looked at the large paper bag filled with summer squash and discussed possibly having a squash throwing contest tomorrow. Because really, how many ways can you keep eating yellow squash for dinner?

-Drove to the meeting place to pick up nine-year-old plus one seven-year-old cousin. #HOORAYforsummer!
-Spent way more than the "just one minute, boys..." talking to my mom in the parking lot of the meeting place because that was the BEST part of my day. She even told me I smelled good. #afterallthat
-Climbed back into the van to spy the cell phone I had given up for lost/stolen at Magic Kingdom two days earlier, wedged between my seat cushion and the mechanism into which you clip your seat belt. I squealed with delight. #Iwasntworried #worriednotworried #Ikepttellingmyselfitwouldworkout #itsurefeltgoodtobereunitedwithexpensivetechnology
-Felt gratitude. For so many things.
-Came home to a messy, messy house and felt okay about it
-Did the dinner dishes
-Tucked two tired boys into bed
-Managed to have the teenagers into bed before 10:00 pm
-Ordered a celebratory brightly colored phone case online
I'm claiming victory.
And a shower.
And the right to leave 15 pounds of yellow squash in the first unlocked car I find.
XO

summer love (on a plate)

There are SO many things to love about summer... and OH! do I love a nice light summer meal.  This salad is a Pinterest success.  Follow my Pinterest link at the top of the blog page and look at the board titled "Salads."  It's a WINNER. Found the recipe there and have made it several times already. Most ingredients are straight from my garden! (Sadly, I can't grow avocado OR fresh mozzarella...)

Cucumber Avocado Caprese Salad 

mix it all together and SERVE!

Vegetarian • Gluten free • 15 mins to cook • Serves 4

Produce

30	1 pint cherry or grape tomatoes halved
1	Avocado cubed
2 tbsp	Basil, fresh, chopped
2	Cucumbers, cubed
1 tsp	Garlic powder

Condiments

2 tbsp

Balsamic vinegar

1 shake (or more)

Salt and pepper

Oils & Vinegars

1 tbsp

Olive oil, extra virgin

Dairy

1 cup

Mozzarella, fresh, cubed or balled

Call me Susie Cucumber

Maybe because my garden is

growing at an alarming rate, and we can not consume the amount of produce we pick on a daily basis.

 Or preferably, because 

(found this gem in the local Antique store) 

I write letters.  REAL ones.

It's one of my favorite things.

Summer's not ALL fun and games...

it's still winter outside

Inside, we're forcing Spring.

(sometimes just knowing things will still grow makes all the difference)

June means berries

With June finally here it feels like SUMMER.

We've had our first four-day heat wave already, and it actually made me happy.

Just thinking about our snowy winter makes temperatures in the 90s seem like a gift.

School is still in session but the pool is OPEN.  Come swim!

(My allergies have kicked in--drippy nose, itchy throat; thank goodness for Claritin.)

We're winding up the Spring sports schedule and looking forward to some lazy, hazy days of freedom.

The garden is in.  The watering and weeding have begun.

This morning I received a text from my no-nonsense brother.  It said:

"Time to pick berries like a migrant farm worker"

my reply:

"Are you going today?"

his:

"So are you"

He has a way with words.

I accepted his invitation, put on my best migrant farm worker berry-picking clothes and drove windows-gloriously-open to Tougas Farm in Northboro.  I found Rachael and Aaron just down the field from where I was picking, quickly filling flats with plump red berries.

We picked for just over an hour in a 65 degree sunny breeze.

It was PERFECT.

The kitchen smells like fresh strawberries.

There are 27.5 pounds of berries on the counter waiting to be washed and hulled.  It's exciting to replenish our supply of jam and freezer berries.  Next winter we'll open a jar of jam to spread on rolls, and it'll be June all over again.

weekend of the garden

The garden's going in today.

Courtesy of our BEST rototiller-er (is that a word?).

a gate of togetherness

The week has gone racing past.
With one of our college boys home for a quick week-long break, the dynamics of the household have changed again.  I love how the kids rally around each other and long to just "be" as a complete entity in as many moments as possible.  Dinner time together, a quick game of Yahtzee, a spontaneous trip to the High School musical... I take none of it for granted.  Some of my favorite moments so far this month:

Watching Mesquite redeem a "One Dance-Off!" coupon she got from her sister for her birthday.

Discovering you CAN make a delicious meal out of JUST vegetables.

Feeling separate, somehow, from the kids at an activity we attended together, and then enjoying a well-timed embrace from Mr. Dub.  The kids will eventually fly the nest...  harbingers of this process of independence stare me in the face at every turn.  I feel thankful EVERY day that I have an anchor in Dub-who-I-love.

Driving to seminary at 6:00 am and spotting Tommy Lee Jones out walking his dog.  We made eye contact, and somehow he knew he'd been discovered.  I swear!  Who knew TLJ lived in OUR quiet little town?

The greenhouse is alive!  Bursting with little sprouts that can't wait to get their feet planted on terra firma... it's all I can do to wait until Memorial Day weekend.  But I must. It's the unwritten law of the sowing season in New England.

Chalked up another book to the finished list:  The Zookeeper's Wife A War Story by Diane Ackerman.  A World War II memoir that takes place in Warsaw kept me captivated with Antonina Zabinski's impenetrable need to survive and desire to help others.  She and her husband are keepers of the Warsaw Zoo.  When Germany  invades, the zoo is bombed and most of the animals are killed or taken away by the Nazi regime.  The Zabinskis smuggle hundreds of Jews into animal cages, an underground tunnel and their own home.  What I loved about this book was the fascinating way the author writes in a way that seems to point out the human tendencies of the animals loved by Antonina, and the way many humans seemed animalistic in wartime Poland.  A fascinating (and horrifying) glimpse from an angle I hadn't yet discovered; this book (like the war) seemed to go on forever.  I laughed out loud at many of the adventures with animals (badger was my favorite), but groaned as page after page of war time dreadfulness spread out before me.  Will this war never end? I felt guilty thinking it, when so many lived the horror and wondered the same.

We're enjoying a gate of togetherness (minus one) and there are exciting things pulling us through to the other side. 
There's a reason to celebrate every day.

The house next door

Look what went up over Easter weekend!

My very own greenhouse.

I'm sooo excited.

 The plants that we've been saving from cat-demise are now my next-door neighbors.

Mr. Dub is ever the hero.

let's not talk about snow...

...the 15+ inches of snow we've received so far today, and the fact that it's still snowing...

Thank you, purple circle.

Instead, let's talk about Spring.

Spring officially arrives tomorrow.

It will arrive here under a blanket of white.

When the Spring blossoms finally emerge, it will be GLORIOUS.

Enrique is here on his Spring Break.

He comes home mostly to catch up on his sleep, I think.

And to strum his ukulele.

Sunday night it fell to him to lead us in a family activity.

He chose yoga.

Picture the seven of us in tree pose (vrksasana), becoming (maybe uncomfortably) aware of group mind and body functions.

It's good to have him home.

Also hanging out at home are my vegetable seedlings.

I was hoping to have them transplanted outside this week, sheltered in a temporary greenhouse.

The greenhouse isn't made to stand up under two feet of wet, heavy snow, so we've postponed the transition until we can see bare ground again.

Patience, little sprouts.

forcing Spring

My friend Morgan gave me these amazing Paperwhites on Christmas eve.

They've been blossoming on our table ever since!

Having the bulbs in the house inspired me to force some daffodils and lilies.  I had a few glass containers in the house, and in the garage I found some rocks from the coast of Maine and some sand from the Grand Canyon to use as growing medium.

I love Winter, but even more, I love signs of Spring!

seasons

About a mile down the road there's a corn field.  I drive past it several times each day, and feel a connection with the growing season, and note the parallels in nurturing children through their seasons of growth.  I watch for planting day in the Spring, when I can see the patterns in the dirt indicating that the seeds have been placed.  Then I mark the passage of summer on my trips past the field by the growth of the corn. It starts out barely poking through the dirt, and inches upward at a rate that seems to increase exponentially with each pass of the farmland.  Don't kids seem to grow that way, too?  One day you notice them, standing upright to clutch your knees; then you turn around and they're hugging you around the waist and before you know it, they're looking you in the eye.  This year summer got pretty dry.  I worried, and watched the leaves on the corn stalks curl inward and reach upward, as if begging for rain.  Then mercifully, we enjoyed many consecutive days of soaking afternoon thunder storms.  I was happy to see the leaves open up and relax in the sunlight, able to concentrate on that last push upward.  Finally, the golden tassels emerged an amazing seven to ten feet off the ground, as if to herald the end of summer; the passage of another successful season of growth.

It's always hard to let go of summer.

I'm grateful for seasons and growing and patterns that cultivate familiarity, comfort in change and letting go.

First Impressions

There is nothing finer than a garden-fresh tomato.  I've always thought so.

In the summer of 1988, I was freshly returned from my mission in Colombia, eager to begin my last year of college; working temporary jobs to make ends meet.

Because it was summer, the garden was in full operation.

When I was young, I remember marveling at my dad when he would slice them up fresh from the back yard, sprinkle salt and pepper on them and then eat and enjoy them like they were a fine steak.

I don't have many memories of what I packed for lunch that summer of transition, but Mr. Dub does.  He claims the first time he saw me, I was on a lunch break sitting outside the Northboro Raytheon facility, eating a tomato like it was an apple.  He claims it was love at first sight.  That's a first impression story for which I owe a great debt of gratitude to one of my dearest loves, the summer tomato.

Hail!  The first two summer tomatoes, fresh from our little garden patch.

Welcome, Friends.

summer gardening

There have been flowers with every meal, peas from the vine, and tomatoes coming on!

lettuce share some salad

Our row of lettuce is thriving.

The only wild animals eating these mammoth heads live INSIDE the house.