Greenhouse Christmas and Kilts

This is a photo of a carol singalong at the rollicking rollicking Victorian Christmas party thrown by the house my sister Mary lived in. It was so much fun! The singing was boisterous and spirited, just as carolling should be, in my book.
Gibbie and Ezra wore the kilts I made them for our friend Pat's wedding. Alas, they outgrew them so quickly!

I just thought of these because I was telling a friend about the house's community potlucks, which are open to anyone--Monday nights, I think. It's a pretty neat place, and they have great parties.

Also missing our dear sister and auntie Mary, who is not at the greenhouse anymore, as she is travelling. Ezra made her a special letter this morning, so he's thinking about her too.

On doing dishes

There is a peaceful kind of wrapping up involved in washing dishes. You are putting the kitchen to bed, putting everything back where it goes so it will be ready next time. This can be a pleasant task to do alone, after the hubbub of mealtime. It can also be a pleasant task to share, as the occupation of washing and drying and putting away creates a setting in which companionable conversation can flourish.

Margaret Kim Peterson, from Keeping House; the Litany of Everyday Life.

The above is from a wonderful book, I am reading it through a second time, it was so full of practical good to me.
Above, Gibbie and Ezra, above and beyond companionable conversationalists, engage in mealtime sillyness.

Making Waffles

Gibbie loves to make waffles. And eat them. We really lucked out when my dad gave us this wonderful old waffle maker. It has a tiny round glass window on the top cover with an arrow that points to hot when it's ready for batter. Gibbie has been really coming into his own in being helpful around the house. I'm not sure if he thinks of it as being helpful or having fun or doing work, but I am celebrating his growing competence.

I was making waffles one day for our weekly breakfast with neighbors, and Gibbie was watching, and all excited over our new contraption. A waffle maker is one of those things that would usually have no justification in our kitchen. I don't like single-function gadgets, or most things that plug in, and try to cook without that kind of stuff. Except for waffle makers, which are just a phenomenal thing. Because we mostly eat all homemade food, sometimes there's not enough around our house in the way of snack food. Sure, sometimes I make energy bars, and the kitchen is stocked with yogurt, granola, fresh fruit, bread, and cheeses. But during busy weeks, when we're more likely to need more snacky stuff, I'm less likely to have all that around. Waffles are a super thing for this! We can have fun making a big batch, have a luxurious breakfast with fruit and cream and all, and then freeze the rest for instant toaster fun for ages to come.
So, in my waffle enthusiasm, I was eager to introduce our budding cook to waffliciousness. I had no idea how much of the process he would be able to do. The first morning he tried it, he ladled batter for dozens of waffles, pressed the lid down, watched for the steam to stop leaking out (the waffley sign of doneness), open the lid, and fork out a couple of lattices of golden goodness onto the butcher block. It's really fun for me to cooperate together, rather than just teaching cajoling. I like hanging in the kitchen, working together, a lot. Especially on Saturday mornings, when Paul is home, with BlueGrass Saturday Mornings on the radio (Local public radio jewel Jazz 88's jewel; just the best show for that sunny, relaxing productive kind of Saturday morning I like), and a morning with friends ahead of us.

I'm not a superhero, I'm just a kid

Can you tell from this photo that this superman outfit gets a lot of action? I've noticed that when we go places, often the kids get a lot of attention they don't really relish. This is totally understandable because often one or both of the kids is wearing something somewhat or completely outlandish: an animal costume, a kilt, a cape, a mask, etc. I bet there are lots of kids who love to get noticed and exclaimed over when they are cute or funny, but not these two. They seem generally surprised and a little confused; "No, I'm not a hero--I'm just a kid."

Also pictured is a treasured ring. It came from a quarter vending machine, at Java Train Coffee in St. Paul, and Oh, did Ezra treasure it. I haven't seen it in a while.

Buildig A Bicycle

For a couple of years now, I've been dreaming of owning a bike with a few specific features: single-speed, road tires, bullhorn handlebars - along the lines of your basic hipster bike. I didn't have the knowledge or parts to build something like this myself, and didn't feel like going to craigslist. I tried to get one person to build it for me, and then she passed me off to another guy who I finally started working with last Friday to build my long-desired bike from the frame up.

It's a vintage (1960's or '70's) polish frame called a Tyler. It's surpisingly light for something that old.
We overhauled and greased-up all the bearing systems.

Almost all of the parts were from Daniel's home stockpile. We got used brakes (with new pads) from Sibley Bike Depot along with new Salsa brake levers.

It was great to finally get the bike I've wanted for so long, and be able to participate in building it.

Thanks, Daniel.