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campfire

Because why go camping when you don't have to? I'm not really a huge camper. I like beds with real sheets on them. I like toilets that flush. I care for electricity a great deal and I'm not a big fan of bug bites. So camping is not way up there on my list. I know, I know we camped A LOT when I was a little kid and I LOVED it then, but I'll tell you what, camping as a child and camping as a mom are very, very different. I don't even think I need to outline the differences here for you all, I just pretty much have to say one thing: workload. 

So at this point in our lives, when there are still diapers and little people who cannot swim, I'm in no rush to camp. However, there are some really fun aspects of the camping experience that I know the Little Dude will just love, and I did not feel the need to deprive him of any longer. So this past weekend, we did not pack up a tent and trailer and sleeping bags and bear proof coolers and sunscreen and bug spray and drive for several hours and then get everything dirty and drive it all home again and spend three days getting everything clean again (a process usually known as "camping"). But what we did do was have a campfire.

We invited the Grandparents over to help us out, and got a nice fire set up in our back yard. 

Everyone was really interested in the whole process, including the baby (who is already in his p.j's and all ready for bed after he's had a chance to see a little bit of that fire action).

He even chose a special friend out of the firewood pile.

A little "log buddy" just the right size for toting all around the yard with him. Hubs and I could not help but sing "It's lo-og, its lo-og, its big, its heavy, its wood! It's lo-og, its lo-og, its better than bad, its good!" a la Ren and Stimpey.

We soon had our fire up and running.

And the kids were all up and running too! Look at GranGran's awesome baby monitoring technique. Nobody is falling down with a log in their arms on her watch. No sir!

And of course, fire is nice and interesting and all, but the most important reason to have a campfire should be obvious. 

And that reason is MARSHMALLOWS! That's why Hubs was chopping us some nice green sticks in the picture above. So we can roast some marshmallows. 

This was the Little Dude's first experience with marshmallows too, and to say he was enthusiastic about it would be a bit of an understatement. 

Being allowed to poke a stick in the fire is awesome to begin with, but topping that stick with a gooey chunk of sugary goodness... heaven!

Grandpapa has honed his technique down to an art form. Look at those perfectly roasted marshmallows!

It took a little bit on convincing to get the Little Dude to roast his marshmallows before eating them (he really, really liked them plain too), but eventually he was willing to try. 

We turned our backs for a moment and even the Baby managed to get his little paws into the bag and have himself a snack. We only let him have one bite (because really, a baby does not need that much sugar) and then it was time to pack him off to bed. 

As it got darker, we all worked on our roasting methods. Hubs found L.D. a nice pronged stick, so that the long wait for roasted marshmallows was rewarded with twice the treat. 

With a little parental guidance, he was getting the hang of roasting them.

And he needed no help at all with the eating part.

He was a natural when it came to that.

Stickey gooey loveliness.

After eating marshmallows, his second favourite thing was staying up late until it was dark. Because then he got to use the little flashlight. I'm telling you, this kid LOVES flashlights. It was so much fun to whirl it all around and see the light beam slicing through the smoke in the darkened sky above the campfire.

I did a little mucking around with my camera and with a longer shutter speed, got these fun shots. 

Even with the low light and the blurring you can still see he was having the time of his life. Its a wonder we got him to sleep that night at all, after all that fun and all that sugar (the whole bag of marshmallows was gone by the end of the night, though there were eight people to help with the eating). And he did sleep late the next morning, even if only by a half an hour. All in all, it was a very good first campfire experience. 

 

 

chocolate + salt + caramel = cake

Pinterest is good for many things. Not the least of which is fantasizing about clothes you can't afford, houses much nicer than any you'll ever live in, stuff you don't have time to sew and recipes that you're probably never going to make. Now, those first three seem valid for various reasons, but every time I look at my recipe board on pintrest, I feel ever so much more hope. Because I could dangit, I could totally cook that! If I a) weren't so lazy and b) wasn't worried about the health implications of that much butter and sugar. 

But this weekend, I had a special occasion. A very special occasion. A girl's night. I know, I know, that seems fairly, um, suburban and painfully common, but NOT FOR ME PEOPLE. Because I have two kids under four, live at least an hour away from any of my dearest friends, and have less free time than... hunh, I'm looking for a hyperbolic way to say that I don't have any free time that is not hackneyed or insensitive. Nope, I've got nothin'. My point is that free time has gone the way of discretionary income in my life. That is to say, there is not much of it. And I cannot tell you how stoked I was about this girls night. 

The plan was to spend the night at my older sister's house. She who lives almost a couple of hours away. Whom I NEVER get to see unless we are celebrating family birthdays/holidays at which point we never get to talk, unless you count "Have you seen the purple bag with the bathing suits?" as conversation. And since I was going to be at her house overnight and my small children were not, I'd get to sleep for the whole. damn. night. That's right, the only person who would be getting up during the night to use the potty would be ME. Hallelujah.

And the third member of our party would be my University room mate/best friend/hillarious story teller and honorary sister. She of the belly laugh, and the awesome guacamole. The only person who loves home made salad dressing as much as I do. So it was shaping up to be an awesome night. 

We had a very loose plan. There would be dinner. There would be drinking. There would be more eating after that. And we'd talk until we fell asleep. And maybe paint our nails, but only if we were still sober or ran out of things to talk about (so probably not). 

Anyhow, I'd offered to bring Sangria and Dessert. I knew for sure that I'd be using The Pioneer Woman's recipe for Sangria, because it has four kinds of alcohol in it and I appreciate that kind of extravagance. I halved it, (because there were only three of us, and I'm not insane) and swapped the pinapple for strawberries. Though next time I will also throw in plums and peaches because I think that'd be awesome. And you guys, it was really, really good. We called it fruit salad with an alcohol dressing, just to make ourselves feel better. 

But I had to look around for a bit to find out what I'd make for dessert. I have kind of a cake rep to uphold, so I really wanted to knock their socks off. Though really, after a couple of glasses of that Sangria, we'd have happily eaten a Deep and Delicious freezer cake with our hands. But whatever, I still wanted to bake something. And then I saw what I was looking for. Perfection summed up in six words: Salted Caramel Six-Layer Chocolate Cake.

This is actually a Martha Stewart Recipe which does not surprise me at all. That woman knows what she's doing in the cake department. But man, I thought my Lemon Poppy-Seed Charlotte was kind of a lot of work, but compared to this behemoth it looks like a walk in the park. Also, check out the ingredient list. There are 7 and a half cups of sugar in this puppy, when you combine the sugar in the cake, the caramel and the icing. Really, its ridiculous. My hand did waver as I chopped a pound of chocolate for the icing. And added half a pound of butter to the caramel after there were already two cups of cream in there. Yikes. But I had set my hand to the plow and I would not look back. 

And after two days, the cake was ready (made the layers on Friday, made the caramel and icing on Saturday, assembled it at my sister's house). And I have to say, that cake was ridiculously good. Even though I managed to screw it up. The most stressful part of this cake was making the caramel. The directions tell you to combine the 4 cups of sugar, 1/2 cup of corn syrup and 1/2 cup of water, put it in a saucepan over high heat and DO NOT STIR it for 14 minutes, until has turned a deep amber colour. Boy, was it hard not to stir it. High heat, people, how the heck is that not gonna burn? I compromised and set it to 8 instead of 10. And watched it as anxiously as a pot has ever been watched. And pulled it off the heat the second the timer dinged. It appeared to be fine and I added the cream and the butter and let it cool. But when all was said and done and I tasted it, I felt it had the aftertaste of burnt sugar. Hubs assured me it was not so. And I was not about to use another four cups of sugar and two cups of cream and half a pound of butter when I'm told it is fine. But still, next time I'm only giving it ten minutes. 

Anyhow, after our delicous appetizer courtesy of Sara (as seen in the above photos) ... and lovely dinner courtesy of my sister, 

and more Sangria and a good long walk......we hit that cake like a ton of bricks. 

Next time I will cut very small pieces though. 

Because this is one of the richest cakes I've ever eaten. None of us could get through our entire pieces. At least not in one sitting. 

Would you look at that caramel. My sister said it tasted like eating a huge gooey Skor bar. You know, next time I make this cake, I will do it as cupcakes. Because that way it'd be more manageable, and you'd have a chance at least at getting through a whole cupcake. 

My favourite thing about this cake is the fleur de sel that you sprinkle on top. I'd put more on next time. And I'd put it on the sides too. The lovely little melty saltiness in each dense chocolatey bite is really incredible. As my sister put it "Its the icing on the icing on the cake." Indeed.

 

fabric and geekery

The Value Village had its half price sale this week, and my very kind Mom dropped by my house during the middle of her very busy day and fed my kids lunch so I could whip out to the store and check out the sales. I knew I had 15 minutes to get there, and 15 minutes to get back, so that left me with a scant half hour to ransack the place, minus standing-in-line time. So this could be no leisurely wander through the store, leaving no stone unturned, and no shelf unexamined. Oh no, I was a woman on a mission. And that mission was (hopefully) to get Star Wars sheets. I am getting dangerously low, and I need to make more bibs and stuff, so with the possibility of half-priced vintage sci-fi bed linnens hanging tangibly in the air, I headed into the store with great hope. 

Now, it was noon. On half-price day, so I tried not to get my expectations too high as many, many had trod those aisles before me. An early bird I was not. I'd planned my path like this: Household Linnens, Men's Shirts, Toys (not that we need any, but just in case) Baby clothes (ditto) and then a quick look over the housewares for pyrex/mugs/awesomeness and a micro scan of the Jewelry. Oh, and formal dresses, because you never know. 

Toys, Jewelry, and Formal Wear were all a bust, which is fine. Got a few useful but non-photo-worthy items in housewares, (baskets, jars, little glasses for little hands) but as usual, Household Linens and Men's Wear was where I did most of my damage.  Three nice shirts. Love a good plaid, and that peachy coloured one is just the nicest heavy/soft brushed cotton ever. Gonna be so good in a quilt. And there in the middle is a Liberty for Target shirt.  I love Liberty, and its so funny because I actually bought this shirt new from Target when their Liberty line came out. But I got an XS and have plans to alter/wear it, and one day cut it up for quilting. But now I have two, and let me tell you, this one was way cheaper than the other. 

Then I found these nice sheets. I love how well they look together. Could be nice as a summer dress with one for trim. 

Couple of nice heavy weight cotton pillowcases, both stripey and orange. 

And another one of those lovely Irish Linnen tea towels. With a very groovy Saint Fiacre on it. 

I can see why this one never got used. It is really awesome. 

I might just hang it on the wall in my kitchen. It'd work with the nice orange-y wood '70's vibe that's already going on there. 

But all this was nothing compared to what you'll see next. Wait for it....

Oh My Gosh TRANSFORMERS! (it's not quite Star Wars, but really, almost the next best thing. Aside from Doctor Who. I'd kill to get my hands on some Doctor Who sheets). I have such fond Transformer memories from my childhood, most of them via my brother of course, who the actual Transformers in our house belonged to, but I can remember playing with them with him, and his excitement at saving up his money to buy Optimus Prime. 

Though my fond memories did fail me when it came to most of their names. The Little Dude was very 'insestred' in this, naturally. And quized me mercilessly about "what dat guy called? Dat Racecar guy? What his NAME!" etc. At which point I had to tell him I didn't know, and he told me that it was ok, "but we'll hafta look it on the computer." Yes, yes we will. (if you are reading this Uncle Lemur Boy, leave the names in the comments wouldya? It'll save me some time, and I know you can recite them all like it was yesterday)

Aw Yeah, 1987. Now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout. I'm going to show L.D. this picture tomorrow and it is going to blow. his. mind. 
Sadly, there is a fair amount of paint splatter on this old sheet. Honestly. These people must have been Barbarians to use their Transformer sheets as a drop cloth. Sheesh. I shake my head at their ignorance. But still, there is a lot that is useable, and bibs and blankies will be made, I promise you.

And speaking of adorable little geeks, here's what I found L.D. and his Daddy bonding over at bedtime the other day. Apparently three and eleven/twelfths is just the right age to bust out the Star Wars (Where Science Meets Imagination) and start indoctrinating them. 

I cannot tell you how much L.D. enjoyed paging through this book with his Daddy. They just went through pointing at pictures and Hubs telling him about what was there to be seen (space ships, explosions, robots, the harsh climates of inhospitable planets and their theoretical indigenous creatures...) you know, the basics.

It was a lovely moment. But of course, the real fun started the moment the book was closed and the lights turned off. And then, little mister chatterbox started going a mile a minute about all the wonders he'd just seen, and had a hundred questions and suggestions for potential story lines. "And then, and then there could be a HUNDRED Darth Vaders and they could all go for a ride in a big, big truck together and then when they all got out they could get in a space ship and go somewhere and then....."

Twenty minutes of non-stop chatter later, this was looking less and less like a good idea. But finally, he agreed to keep enjoying his thoughts, but not out loud, just in his head, and off he went to have pleasant dreams about a galaxy far, far away....

fern gully picnic

Back in April I posted about L.D's discovery of a magical place in the forest called "Fern Gully". At the time I mentioned it was nice and green, but there weren't many ferns. Well, almost exactly a month later, on the Saturday of this weekend past, we decided to head outside on such a beautiful day for a picnic. We packed a ramshackle lunch of veggies and fruits and crackers and dips and peas and sandwhiches and headed outside. When we were talking over where we'd set ourselves up, or rather, down to eat, L.D. again suggested Fern Gully, so off we went. Though we did have to stop for a second to admire the blossoming trees in our yard. Look at that would you! These blossoming trees are such a limited time offer, and I didn't get out in time to get pictures of the apple blossoms, so I was determined not to miss getting a few shots of this one. I believe this is a flowering crab apple, but I could totally be wrong (I'm telling you, the flowers/gardening gene skips a generation, and my Dad is shaking his head while reading this in complete exasperation that I don't know the kind of tree that this is. Leave it in the comments Dad, if you would be so kind.)

Anyhow, whatever it is, it is just gorgeous, and absolutely full of the sound of buzzing bees who are swarming all over it with such concentration that we don't even worry about them, as they pay us no mind. The Baby was very happy to reach up and touch the branches, and one of his new tricks is 'smelling' flowers with a big stagey "sniiiifff, ahhhhh...." So cute. 

Anyhow, enough dilly dallying and we were off to Fern Gully. So look back at the picture of that early spring Fern Gully, (third photo down in that post) full of green grass and not much else, and then feast your eyes on this. Is that crazy or what? A whole new layer of lovely growth. 

Again, never mind my general ignorance about the specifics of plant life, but I believe these are the kind of ferns that, in this early curled up stage can be eaten as Fiddleheads. I had planned to come out and pick some, but most of them were uncurled, or at least uncurled far enough that it did not seem to make sense to harvest them. 

Its so interesting, they are not spectacular in a colourful flower kind of way, but at the same time Ferns are just so lovely. You can tell why the Arts and Crafts movement was all over them as a motif. There is this lovely arcing symmetry to them. And every angle on them gives you something different. 

Anyhow, after ooohing and aaahing over the ferns, we hunkered down to have a proper picnic. I had my trusty and lovely thrifted picnic blanket along, which is really the perfect thing as it is wool, so nice and thick and you don't feel the damp through it at all. And so pretty in pictures. And then, as you can see, completely spoiling the aesthetic in the background is a large, plastic hunk of kid crap. Namely the wagon. This is where I fail as a blogger, since I cannot seem to master the perfectly styled family picture. In a perfect blogger world, that would be a vintage wooden wagon, and no one would be wearing their very practical, but not at all attractive hats. (Especially Hubs, he knows I hate that white trash camouflage hunters cap. If you can buy it at a store where they sell lawn mower part and ammo, it is officially not a style item) Serioulsy, that is an ugly wagon. But you know why we own it? Because Hubs got it for free. Probably out of someone's trash pile on garbage day. He promised me we'd never use it as a wagon, he was just going to take the wheels off of it to make something else with, but as with so many ugly, plastic albatrosses, it has worked its way into our lives. And though it fails miserably at being attractive, that wagon came in pretty darn handy for our picnic. Not only did it haul the boys and the food and stuff...

...but it also functioned as a high chair/playpen. Though I have cleverly cropped its offending plastic-y-ness out of this photo, it is the thing that kept the Baby happy, eating, contained and out of the adjacent creek all through lunch. 

The piece de resistance of our little lunch was this pint of raspberries. They stayed wrapped up in a tea towel until all peas, carrots, lentils, sandwiches, and yoghurt had been consumed, as I knew that once they appeared on the scene, all other options would be thoroughly rejected. 

And as soon as we busted them out, there was thought of nothing else. 

Yeah, just a little closer....

...oh yeah, that's the stuff!

As you can see, the Little Dude has his favourite raspberry eating technique down pat. We call it a bad case of the raspberry fingers.

The berries went so fast that Hubs had a hold a few back for me, as I was busy taking pictures and almost missed out on my share. And I finally decided to take off the Baby's hat so I could get a better picture of his raspberry eating glee.How 'bout that? That enough glee for you? Though the stylist in me was pissed that as soon as I got rid of the dorky hat, I had an unsightly cowlick to contend with. Though really, there's not much that can mar this baby's cuteness.

Ok, ok, just one more 'baby eating raspberries' shot. Managed to smooth down the hair too. Used the good ole' "mom's hand with a bit of spit" technique. That's better. 

And then we let 'im loose to stomp around in the ferns, and pick up sticks and snails and chirp and squeal and point. 

You may wonder why L.D. is not in these photos. First of all, he rarely stands still enough for a picture, and second of all, why bother with ferns... ...when there is a creek and a boat on a stick to sail in it. And rocks to climb on. And mud to step in. And water skeeters and little fish to throw bits of sandwich to. Who has time for pictures when there is all that to be done?

But after the picnic was cleared away, and the mosquitos were making their presence felt, we decided it was time to head home for naps, and off we went with our ugly wagon full of happy boys, back through the magic doorway of Fern Gully.
 Wishing you all a lovely day today, with at least a little bit of green in it. Go outside if you can. Find a cool place and close your eyes and breathe. If you are in a city, look for the weeds that come through the cracks. There's always a bit of green somewhere. You'll find it if you look.

mother's day

Or rather, the day after Mother's Day, as I mostly blog last thing at night so I know that most of you are reading this the day after I write it. But today was Mother's Day. Sigh. I know I've only been at this mothering thing for about four years, but I figured out awhile ago that Mother's Day is a real rip off. I thought it was going to be a day about mothers, you know, honouring all our hard work, showering us with gifts and thanks. I imagined I'd be shooed off into an easy chair whilst my adoring husband made meals and dealt with potty breaks while I sipped some sort of fruity drink and paged through the latest issue of Vogue. 

Yeah, those of you who have been mothers for awhile now are laughing as you read that. Because YOU know that mothers get SCREWED on Mother's Day (and I'm don't mean that in the good way). It mostly ends up being a day like all the rest, but possibly with more elaborate food prep. (On a related note, read Anne Lamott's Why I Hate Mother's Day. She's one of my favourite authors, and makes some very good points here. Thanks to my girl Sara for passing this one on).

Though to be fair, I cannot complain too much this year. (I wasn't expecting much, so that helps). We all got up in the morning together as usual, with Hubs heading out to the kitchen to start the oatmeal for breakfast. I went and got the Baby for his morning breast feed. And we had a lovely time, relaxing in the big bed for the 10 minutes that it takes him to eat, and then lolling around for another few minutes smiling and laughing and poking each other in the belly buttons. It was sweet. And then when I headed out to the kitchen I was met with flowers and a little present made by Hubs (a stainless steel ring he'd fashioned from a bit of pipe at work. Really, its nicer than is sounds and fits my middle finger perfectly).

Then L.D. and I were off to church, and after that there was a big family get together at my mom's house. But I actually was not there for most of it. I ran off to act in a play; a small informal workshop/community type theatre thing in a town nearby. Which was really nice actually. Its good to put that Theatre degree to work after all those years. And after an afternoon of pretending to be someone else, I returned home to the lovely smells and happy noises of a family having fun at my Mom's house. And the food! Oh, the food. I haven't got words for how good that home cooked deliciousness is, especially when you are not the one that cooked it. So really, my Mom was the mom who got the shortest end of the stick today, as she for sure did the most work. The ribs were to die for, I'm telling you, and I know that food does not get that tasty by accident. 

Anyhow, after a day in the sun with all the fun of cousins and ATV's and then a massive dinner, we packed two VERY tired kids into the car and after some much needed baths they were tucked into bed. Though L.D. did not go so willingly into that good night. Not without a bit of fussing along the way, but it was understandable after so much excitement. (another related side link, read dooce's description of how she knew her daughter was a three year old and laugh. your. ass. off. She so nails it. No one writes about parenting funnier then that)

So, what was my point? Oh yeah, it was mother's day. And though I did not get to sleep in, or lounge around, it was still really lovely. And as I tucked my boys into bed tonight watching sleep lay its soft, sweet mantle over them, it seemed like a pretty good day. 

And then I was poking about on the youtube and I found The. Most. Fantastic. Clip. EVER. And perfect for Mother's day. Behold:

 

This video makes me wish that I was a parent in the 70's. Or rather, it makes me wish I lived on Sesame Street in the 70's. Because then Buffy Sainte Marie could be my neighbour and we could hang out with Big Bird and nurse our babies together. Seriously, how awesome is this! Best line: "and I get to hug him when I do it, see." Awwwwwww! The only thing that makes me sad about this is that it could never, ever be on TV now. People would LOSE THEIR MINDS about a grown woman breast feeding her child on national television these days, much less on a children's show. 

If you liked this you should also check out Buffy Gives Cody a Bath, which is all KINDS of adorable, and has the catchiest little impromptu bathing the baby song you will ever hear. You'll be humming it all day, yup yup. Though I have to say again, this would never make it onto TV now. Because people are crazy now, and think that children seeing naked babies will destroy the very fabric of society. Oh, 70's idealism, where have you gone?

 

A Spring Day at GranGran and Grandpapa's

Today's post is brought to you by guest blogger Grangran, aka my Mom. She doesn't have her own blog yet, but I think she should have.... Anyhow, she not only helps me out when I'm busy by taking my big boy out for the morning, but then she also writes a lovely blog post about it too, thereby freeing up my evening to work as well. Best mom ever! Enjoy. 

As adults, we often become excited at the thought of sharing a particular experience with our children or grandchildren -- often fogetting that they might have a pre-conceived idea, or even an unexpressed fear, that does not allow for the same pleasure in the experience that we had anticipated they might have.  So it was today when we took L.D. to a building site. He has such an interest in machines and construction, that we thought he would enjoy seeing the building taking place at our neighbour's property, where a new horse barn is being erected. He was attentive and interested as we proceeded up the driveway, but became very trepditious as we stepped out of the car. Clutching Grandpapa's hand as he traveresed the bumpy, mucky surface, most interested in which machine could have made those large tracks. "Probably the truck", I said "No Grangran! those tires aren't big and bumpy!" was his reply. The closer we got to the scene of construction, the more he wanted to be held-- and since Grangran is his source of confort--"Hold me up!" he said.

So, holding him in my arms, we watched the crane lift a large truss into place. 

But progress at the building site is slow, as the men place each truss and hammer it down. Now it was time to move on.

Arriving home, Grandpapa said "want to go for a ride on the ATV to the neighbours and see the animals?" Wow, the response was a quick "Yes!" And off they went to the garage......first stopping to inspect the tractor and chipper. So many interesting things at Grandpapa's house! With great delight he climbed up on the ATV, looking dapper in his black bowler hat, his beloved John Deere cap being temporarily misplaced.

Down the hill ....

....and soon out of sight, his happy face a memory that fills my heart with joy.

Susan invited them into the house where a lovely white dog was the centre of attention.

And although there were horses outdoors, they are big and intimidating, whereas ths horse was one L.D. could ride and enjoy, with no fear of being thrown off. 

They also made a visit to the animals, but the goat monopolized their attnetion so forcefully, that they could not get to the other animals. Grandpapa said "He wants a treat, and we didn't bring any. But he does want to kiss you, L.D." 

Maybe, but the Little Dude wasn't having any of it. 

 Arriving home, it was time to eat, and what better way than to lunch outdoors on a lovely spring day. A picnic! What fun! And of course lunch is not complete without a lego truck nearby. Sharing is a big part of learning, and a cucumber is not so difficult to share with Grandpapa

And everything is more fun when one is being creative -- and what's better than a veggie happy face.

grandpapa daycare

My parents were off on a well deserved vacation recently, and since they've come back they've been putting in a little grandchildren over-time, catching up on what they missed over the past few weeks (and helping me meet my deadline in the process). This past weekend, the Little Dude spent the morning with GranGran and Grandpapa, allowing this Mommy got to get some desperately needed studio time in while the Baby napped. We should call this 'Grandpa's Nursery for Plants and Small Boys'. This particular morning involved all of their shared favourite things: dirt, shovels, wheelbarrows, flowers and gardening.

Could there be a better way for a three year old to spend the morning? Look at that dirt fly! (All photos courtesy of GranGran by the way)

I just love seeing his gestures as he learns to handle the shovel, patting the dirt down just so.

Learning to do it the way that Grandpapa does.

Because this is really the best way for us to learn, isn't it? We do what you do, mimic your gestures, absorb the meaning of an action into our muscles, knowledge sticking to us like dirt on our fingers.

And after all the shoveling is done, there's always time for a ride in the tractor. That pup-seat was worth every penny Grandpapa. It thrills the Little Dude to be sitting up there riding along like a real farmer, and it makes my mama's heart feel calm to know that he's buckled in with a proper seat belt.

And I know, in my brain that my Dad is older than he was when I was a little girl. That he cannot possibly be frozen forever in this mid forties, but seeing this photo its hard for me to believe that anything has changed. This is just how he used to stand with me on his shoulder when I was a little girl; like some sort of cross between a sack of potatoes and a baby lamb. There is something so amazing about seeing the man I know as my "Daddy" interacting with my little boy as he used to with me. Its like being able to look back in time into your own childhood and watch your parent love your kid the way they loved you, allowing you to see, from the outside, how they must have felt about you then, when you were oblivious to it all. That's the best I can describe it. And I just know that no matter how much I may long for big city life again, I don't know if I can ever move this little boy away from his GranGran and Grandpapa and all the enrichment they bring into his life, and all he learns from and experiences with them.

OK, sentimental rhapsodizing aside, I've heard him say "oh crap" about 20 times a day since the weekend, and I know that ratio of time spent with Grandpapa to occurences of his only 'little boy cuss word' are definitely connected. Just sayin'. Otherwise the "Grandpapa Daycamp" is totally my first choice for a weekend morning with my Little Dude.

Surprise!

So, details. Yesterday I threw a surprise birthday party for my Hubs. It was kind of a milestone birthday, and we live sort of far from all of our good friends, way out here in smalltownville, so my big plan was to get all of his favourite people here in our living room and surprise the crap out of him. So he went off to church in the morning, and I stayed home with the Baby (who still naps every morning, so one of us always stays home) and then I got everyone to come over at about 11:30. He came home at noon, and SURPRISE! He was truly astonished. And the Little Dude, who walked in the door before him, and was just in the process of taking off his coat when everyone jumped up and hollered, ran across the kitchen and away from the merry makers as far as his little legs would take him. I think we scared a year's growth out of the poor kid! 

Hubs seemed pleased though. And totally clueless, even though I'd been cleaning the house and baking (stealthily as I could) for the previous two days. I'll tell you what though, surprise parties are a LOT of WORK. I'm not throwing one again until I can afford to hire a caterer. Those two hours while he was at church, all I did was bake and cook and bake and make a million mistakes (too many eggs, wrong temperature, not enough flour). I was so off my game. I blame adrenaline and the bloody daylight savings time. Argh. But it all turned out ok, and the biggest reward was seeing Hubs enjoy himself in the company of his friends. 

Here we are, all assembled  in the living room and ready to shout.

And here's Hubs, realizing that he's being shouted at.

It was such a gorgeous day. Crazy warm weather, so after lunch and lots conversation we all went out for a walk through the woods. And then we stood around in the back yard and chatted while the kids played on the swings and the trampoline.  One of our neighbors was out enjoying the good weather too, and ripping up and down across the valley on his ATV, and everytime he went by the kids on the trampoline....
...went CRAZY, jumping up and down and yelling and waving like they were seeing a celebrity. So funny. 

They had some good times on the trampoline, exercising their legs and their lungs. Oh, the screams of joy. And occasionally frustration. But mostly joy.

And lots of lovely times inside too. There was another little baby the same age as our Baby, and there were some really adorable moments as they tried to hug each other/poke each other in the eyes, but I was not quick enough to get any of them on film. I didn't do nearly as much photo taking as I usually do, as I was very busy hosting and making sure food and drinks were replenished as needed, and that everybody got naps when necessary and of course, taking some time to enjoy my guests. So I've got no pictures of food for you or anything like that. But I did take a moment today to take a few pics of the decorations. 

I spent the evening before, surreptitiously going through old photo albums, and put up a sort of "this is your life" wall of pictures of Hubs. It was fun to do, and seemed to really be enjoyed by both Hubs and the revelers. 

 It may seem odd that I went from right to left, instead of left to right. But it made sense in the room (and if art school taught me anything it was to consider the site of the installation as well as the content. Though obviously it did not teach me what to do about those damned light switches. ahem.) Anyhow, this end is "the early years"

And here we have the awkward stage and the teen years.

And over on the left we have college, adulthood, marriage and fatherhood. I'm really pleased the Hubs likes this (and was not embarrassed about it, though as I told him, I left the most awkward pictures from the pre-teen years out). He's even requested that we leave it up for a little while. Which makes me very happy. 

It was a lovely day, and totally worth the stress and extra housework. Hubs was smiling even after everyone had left, and when I tucked L.D. into bed that night, he said to me "Why did all those people shouted 'yahooo'?" I doubt he'll forget it for awhile either. 

Lemon Poppy Seed Charlotte

I'm always nervous about posting a recipe that I didn't make up myself or at least heavily alter. But this one is one I've made over and over again and people always ask me for the recipe (including you, dear regulars). But all I have is a butter stained shred of paper ripped from a magazine at least a decade ago. I don't know where it comes from, but I do know that it's great and should be shared. If you created this recipe, feel free to contact me so that I can credit you or redirect readers to a web source for it, or at least a cookbook. But I looked and could not find it anywhere, and I don't feel the world should be deprived of it any longer. So there you have it. This is at the front of the 'cake' section in my recipe binder. It rose to prominence in my baking repretoire while we lived in Montreal. It is light but decadent at the same time and flavourful without being too sweet. It was a big hit both with the foodies and the conscious eaters at art school. Kids love it, adults will rave about it, and it just seems to ring everybody's bells. Unless you don't like lemon, in which case, forget about it.

This is definitely a special occasion cake, as there are a lot of ins and a lot of outs. But its totally totally worth it. DO NOT be scared of making your own lemon curd. Its so ridiculously simple that you'll wonder why you never did it before (if your the type to wonder about such things). It is so much better than any of the ones you can buy at the store. And please, for the love of Mike, don't use lemon pie filling or lemon spread. That would be a disaster. And you don't need a fancy stand mixer, I've always made it with my $19.99 hand mixer with lovely results. What you do need is a ton of berries for the garnish. Take the money you saved not buying a KitchenMade mixer and get yourself, like three or four pints of berries. You will not regret it.  Wash berries and lay them out on a clean tea towel to dry. If you are a pattern nerd like me, you can lay them out in rows. Very pleasing. Ok, on to the recipe.

Lemon Poppy Seed Charlotte

Cake

 ½ cup melted butter

7 eggs, separated

½ tsp cream of tartar

1 cup of granulated sugar, divided

¾ tsp salt

1 tsp vanilla

1 1/3 cups cake and pastry flour (that’s one and one-third, don’t screw it up!)

1/3 cup of poppy seeds

 

 Frosting

 ¼ cup granulated sugar

1 envelope unflavoured gelatin powder (about 1 tbsp)

¼ cup lemon juice

¼ cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (do not use that stuff you have in the fridge in the little lemon shaped squeeze thingy)

1 cup of home made lemon curd (its really easy, you can totally do it, see recipe below)

500 ml container of whipping cream (about two cups)

 

Lemon Curd

 4 egg yolks

2 whole eggs

1 cup granulated sugar

½ cup butter

2/3 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice 

 

1. Preheat the over to 350 degrees F. Grease two round 8-inch cake pans and line bottoms with waxed paper or dust lightly with flour. Melt butter. Set aside to cool. Separate eggs placing whites in a large bowl and yolks in a separate medium sized bowl. (It’s smart to do the separation egg by egg over a little bowl, and then pour each successfully separated white into the big bowl, because it you screw up and break a yolk and any yolk goes into the white, it won’t beat up as airy as you need it to)

 2. Beat whites with cream of tartar just until soft peaks form when unmoving beaters are lifted out of the bowl. Do not over beat. Gradually beat in ½ cup of sugar. Beat until very shiny, stiff peaks form. Set aside. Beat egg yolks until very thick and lemon-coloured, (about four minutes). Gradually beat in remaining ½ cup of sugar and room-temperature melted butter, salt and vanilla. In 4 additions (of 1/3 cup each), sift flour over egg yolk mixture, gently folding after each addition. Fold in the poppy seeds with the last 1/3 cup of flour.

 3. Fold egg yolk mixture on top of beaten egg whites and fold just until no big streaks of white remain. Turn into prepared pans. Gently smooth tops. Bake in centre of 350 degree over just until tops string back, about 20 minutes. (while you are waiting for them to bake, make the lemon curd, see below) Cool in pans for 10 minutes. Turn out onto a cooling rack. Cool completely. Using a serrated knife , cut cakes in half horizontally to make 4 layers.

 4. To make the lemon curd, whisk together the eggs, sugar and lemon juice in a small heavy bottomed saucepan. Cut the butter into chunks and add to the pan. Place saucepan over low heat and cook, stirring constantly, until sugar and butter are melted. Continue to cook, stirring frequently, for 5 minutes. Then, stirring constantly, cook until mixture is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon, about 7 minutes. Fill a one-cup measuring up and set aside until room temperature. Pour the remaining into a jar and refrigerate once cooled. It will keep well for several days (if it lasts). Enjoy it with yoghurt, scones, fruit, whatever. It is so, so good.

 5.  Meanwhile, to make frosting, in a small saucepan, stir sugar with gelatin. Then stir in water and lemon juice. Stir constantly over medium heat until gelatin is dissolved, about 4 minutes. Pour into a large bowl. Immediately add room-temperature lemon curd. Whish until the mixture is smooth. Put in the fridge to cool just to room temperature, about 15 or 20 minutes.

 6. Beat cream in a large bowl until soft peaks will form. Using a wooden spoon or spatula, stir in about one-third of the whipped cream into the lemon mixture. Fold in the remaining cream just until no white streaks remain.

 7. Get a pretty plate or cake stand. Set one of the cake layers on it. Spoon about one-fifth of the lemon/whipping cream frosting onto it and gently spread almost, but not all the way to the edges. The put the next layer on top of that and repeat until you’ve used all four layers. Frost top and sides with the remaining mixture. Then garnish as you please. This is really the most enjoyable part. I like to use a couple of pints of raspberries or blue berries and just completely cover it with them. But I’ll bet strawberries would be lovely too. 

Here is the blueberry garnished version. See, you just completely stud it with blueberries. You could also do a sort of fibonnaci swirl pattern, that would be very cool. I had to dig through my old photos to find this. I made it and a matching no-sugar mini cake for the Little Dude's first birthday, back in 2009. Looking at the pictures just blew my mind, because he was the exact same age as the Baby is now, and it seems a lifetime ago!
Seriously! Can you believe that! So cute. And so liddle! And yet, so big. He was much bigger at that age than our current Baby.

Lookit 'im stuffing his face on my lap. It boggles the mind, I tell you.

Its such a great example of how everything changes and yet so much stays the same. I look at the pictures we took just yesterday and they are so similar. Cards and presents and cake and excitement. We just all get a little older (or a lot older as the Little Dude's case may be). 

And I'm throwing this one in just because its another good shot of the cake, but also an awesome picture of my Dad. What a good lookin' fella. Doesn't that face just say, "I have a pick-up truck, do you need help hauling anything?" He's got a heart as deep as a four layer cake that man. Just sayin'. 

party!!! (the sequel)

We had another birthday party this weekend. For the same person as last weekend. Yes, we double birthday partied our one-year-old. We are those people. Though I will say in my defense that we did not rent a hall for 100 guests, or hire a band or cater it like really crazy people do. We are just a little bit crazy, so we just had my parents, my siblings, my best friend, and their respective kids. Sixteen people in all. It might be the most people we've ever had over at one time for an event. We usually have these sort of family gatherings at my parent's place, but its a whole other ball game when one hosts. I know my mom always does a lot of work to get a party on, and it was nice for a change to get to see her sit down and spend more time talking with people instead of worrying that everyone has something to drink and eat. But boy, am I pooped tonight. I swear I've been cleaning and baking for two solid days. But it was all worth it because we had a blast. It was a PARTY. The kind of party where you know you had a good time because there is not a single clean glass, or clean plate or dry pair of mittens left by the time the day is over. 

There were presents again of course, which were as exciting for the giver as the receiver.
And sometimes even more exciting for the giver to be honest. We had some very excited givers.

And also, people who were eager to 'share' the new gifts, all under the good natured pretext of demonstration
"I have to show him how it works!" I was told by more than one excited party guest today.

It was so fun, all the hustle and bustle and chatter of little people and big people. There was nearly every stage in human development represented, with almost no two the same age, but yet everyone got along so well.
I was generally so busy finding extra forks and just one more plate that I didn't supervise any play time at all, but there were plenty of older cousins and helping hands around, so we had a loud, but pleasant day with no big conflicts, no minor wounds or even bruised feelings.  Oh, and the Baby even received a big of nostalgic goodness; You may remember Baby Tugs the Care Bear from that post I wrote a couple of weeks ago, who was kindly passed down to the Baby courtesy of his Uncle Lemur Boy. Now he's not just an old pop culture reference, he's an heirloom.

And of course there was cake, more and more cake. 

Which received the same enthusiastic raspberry scarfing pleasure as it did last Sunday. 

And the Little Dude did not wait long to get in on the action, much to the delight of the crowd. 

We finally moved him to the table...

...and cut him a piece of his own which he demolished with gusto before I was even finished cutting and serving the grown-up cake. 

I made my go-to favourite party cake, which is a Lemon Poppy Seed Charlotte that I absolutely smothered in raspberries. I just did a quick web search to find out if the recipe was floating around there in the ether somewhere but alas, it is not. I myself ripped it out of a magazine well over a decade ago. I'll try to find time to post the recipe for it this week, because really, I don't mean to brag, but it is a truly outstanding cake. So light and flavourful, and decadent without being heavy. It was enjoyed by all today, and we even have a little piece left over that I plan on eating tomorrow. Maybe even for breakfast.