Happy Easter!

We had a wonderful Resurrection Sunday. I did a poor job documenting it, like our gorgeous food spread, the 'grown-up' table, the kid's table, the cut-throat basketball tournament that broke out at one point . . . but I did snap a few. We had nine adults and seven children over.

I started my day at 5:00am to make two apple pies. A day old soggy pie is just not the same. 

The Easter Bunny did stop by our home in an understated way. And this year, for better or for worse, we eased up on our strict very limited candy allowance. You only live once, and I survived. Right?

The traditional egg hunt ensued . . . 

We went to church, and then came back to our house. "The Men" hid eggs outside for a fun outdoor egg hunt. 

Getting all four kids (the 8 month old Spencer was decidedly too little for the outdoor hunt) to smile turned out to be an impossible feat. Blame it on the sugar intake.

Rosalie (right) was having a dramatic moment.

Can't you just hear her thoughts? "Alright already Aunt Sandy, can't we just can on with the egg hunt!? You're boring the pants off me with this picture taking!"

My brother Scott brought the hunt into the 21st century by getting our parents on video conferencing then carting them (our parents) around and showing them the egg hunt "LIVE". 

Too much.

Reese Bow nabbing an egg.

(don't be deceived, this was being documented on video cam)

Benjamin  . . . never too old for an egg hunt.

Hunters in action

and status report on the basket contents . . . 

CAUGHT! Brown handed . . . and mustached.

My mother-in-law Dulce gets the prize. We'd both gotten up at 5:00am to make various things, but yet, when I was ready to collapse, she was still going strong. She hand-washed every dish in sight. I stuck with her for awhile, but after dessert I sat down. She kept on until every last dish was done. Where does she get the stamina? I'm the one running several times a week. When we visited her sister in Portugal her sister insisted on not only washing our clothes, but ironing them as well (including pajamas!) -- after she'd cooked us dinner, around midnight. Maybe it's genetic. 

What is going on?!

"Why is there a screen in our front yard?!" you ask. Well, that is an excellent question. 

The answer:  Leprechauns. 

Benjamin has been chatting it up with his friends about Saint Patrick's Day at school. He learned that Leprechauns enter your house through a high open window, so you have to leave your window wide open on Saint Patrick's Day eve. He learned that you set your shoes out underneath  your bed and the Leprechaun fills them with money, and that Leprechauns make a mess out of your house turning everything up on end looking for green items and gold. "Terrific" I thought. Just what I need . . . another 'holiday' or event where parents have to tippy-toe into their children's rooms to leave a coin all the while trying not to wake them up . . . worse than the tooth fairy, this guy makes a mess of your house, and you have to leave a window open in the middle of March?! I joked with Benjamin that I might put up a sign telling the Leprechauns not to come into our house. They sounded like a lot of work. Victor stated that he was not in favor of letting the Leprechaun in.

At just past midnight on Saint Patrick's Day Benjamin races into our bedroom, flicks on the over head light and comes over to the side of our bed with eyes as big as saucers and a look on his face that tells me he's expecting to get punished. 

"Benjamin. It's the middle of the night man. What IS it?" I ask.

"I was trying to make sure the Leprechauns could get into the house, so I opened my window and the screen -- BUT THE SCREEN FELL OUT! Like, the screen is ON THE GRASS!"

Good grief, I'm thinking to myself. You've got to be kidding. "Benjamin, please, just go back to bed." 

He looks at me as if to say "YEAH, but the screen!!"

"Benjamin. To bed. You're going to be a crab tomorrow. I love you. Please go to bed!"

He walks out.

About a half hour later, I could swear that through my eyelids I'm seeing light every now and then. Clumping sounds. Now what?!  "Benjamin! What is going on dude?" 

Benjamin comes out from underneath our bed with his clock in hand that lights up when you press the LIGHT button. I'm in utter disbelief.  "What are you doing?!" I ask.

"I'm pretending to be a leprechaun."

Benjamin is under our bed filling our shoes with money that the errrrrr . . . Leprechaun . . . had left in more sensible, less risky places around the house like in the hallway! 

"Benjamin, TO BED. I love you. Go."

I felt bad for the guy. I felt bad that the 'leprechaun' hadn't fully embraced the holiday and Benjamin felt like he had to take up the slack. It won't be long before my soon-to-be ten year old . . . stops, you know. 

For now, I will look back sweetly at being woken up twice after midnight for 9 year old shenanigans. 

It's official . . .

I'm addicted to my wood stove. The bad news is, we are fresh out of wood. As I mentioned previously, our wood stove purchase came last minute in the fall, so we didn't spend the spring and summer squirreling away wood for the cold winter. Poor Victor schleps outside with the kids on the weekends and chops in the cold. (There could be worse things I suppose, like a $600 oil bill!) 

As I'm typing this, I'm sitting in front of the laptop with a full length down coat on. My feet are ice cold in my slippers. I've actually caught myself fantasizing about going places where I can keep my Uggs on indoors (we have just switched to a slipper house - residents only required). Or another one I had today was catching myself considering a trip to the mall, just so I could be warm. I am my mother's daughter. Unless it's 80 degrees or I'm running in or out of doors, my hands and feet are like icicles. Is my circulation that bad?! It's amazing my hands a feet don't just plumb drop off. I digress.

The strange thing is, even if the thermostat in the dining room (admittedly on the other side of the house from the wood stove) reads 68 with the wood stove heating the place it feels warmer than if the baseboard heaters are doing the work. I've been thinking that maybe it's a control thing. I feel like I have guilt-free heat in my control with a wood stove. I am happy to "do my time" waiting for the wood stove to get the house up to temp. But, if I sit here in a 65 degree baseboard heated house -- I freeze. Is this all just in my head? I don't know. But I'm counting down the days until I have a porch full of split wood waiting for me. (No pressure Lovey. Prod. Prod.) 

While we are on the topic of slippers (above), I would like to vent. It's bad enough being a gal who likes to "dress-up" as an at home mom. Really, there is no point. An entire day can pass by and the only adult who sees me is Victor. And, he's great and all, and I want him to think I'm pretty and all, but really -- is it worth it (and justifiable) to wear something that requires ironing and / or dry cleaning? But slippers put me over the edge. I feel like a total schlep. Like, "Get a job you lazy bum!" How can a woman accomplish anything but knitting, reading and watching t.v. in slippers?! I'm just not sold. Am I the only one?

Is it that time of the month, or did I just forget to take my Vitamin D? 

Be well. 

Hopefully I made you laugh, rather than making you feel like digging a hole and moving in. :)

Playing with Dolls

My parents gave this to Ripley two Christmases ago. It's a tree house, and is extremely cool. Ripley likes to play with all of the gadgets -- the ladder, the "tire" swing, the winch, the bridge. However, when it comes to playing with the dolls that go with the tree house . . . 

His imagination and creativity is a little, well . . . you judge for yourself. These folks are apparently "sleeping" on the hammock. Am I doing something wrong as a parent?! Benjamin (9) used to do the same type of thing.

Now, Ripley knows how to play with individual jets and make them take-off from an aircraft carrier that we've had here since Benjamin was about 4. He doesn't cram them all into the hold and leave them there! I certainly haven't given them more examples of how to play with airplanes versus dolls. He has seen it and experienced it, so he pretends. Is this how my children view bedtime?! 

Every time I walk by these dolls, I giggle.

Southeastern New Englanders are Wimps!

You have got to be kidding me. Today it is forecast to be 16 degrees along with 1-3 inches of snow. The Midwest is dealing with -20 to -40 degree temperatures and we, Southeastern New Englanders are canceling school. I'm baffled. We have furnaces in the schools, right? We have snow plows, right? What's the problem? I have to admit that when we see folks down south on the news skidding all over the roads and getting into pile-ups, we snicker a little up here. But places that don't have enough plows, sanders and salters to make the roads safe (and why would they, since snowfall is rare?) are at a big disadvantage. And drivers don't have the opportunity to learn how to drive in the snow. We however, have no excuse. We are wimps. It's official. Our fellow Northern New Englanders are laughing their butts off at us. It's an embarrassment. Allow me to say to the rest of the New Englanders out there who know how to deal with the cold and snow: We are sorry. We have let you down. It's hopeless, we are wimps. We are going to race off to the stores before the snow begins to fall today, all 3 inches of it, (with our children in tow, because there is no school) and purchase our obligatory loaf of bread and gallon of milk. It's all we know. It's what we do. Send us down south where we belong. (Then we'd no doubt complain about the heat, the humidity, the snakes and the bugs.)

Ripley Comments & Benjamin Swims

As I've mentioned, it's been snowy around here. Typically when we get snow, within a few days it is gone. The warm water off the coast invariably turns on coming precipitation to bone chilling sleet and rain. Usually our winters are filled with slush. So, it's been lovely to have a lasting winter wonderland over the past two weeks. However, on our way home from school yesterday Ripley exclaims "I don't even know how the ground is doing!" The poor guy, he was wondering about the grass. What's happening under there?! 

Then, we stopped by the mailbox as we pulled into our driveway. Ripley received a lovely invitation to his cousin Rosalie's 5th Birthday Party. I've mentioned that Rosalie is the only girl on both sides of her family, but she is girl enough for everyone. She loves to dance, and watch Russian ballets, so it was no surprise that the invitation had a hand colored ballerina on the front. It read at the end "children should dress to dance". After hearing that, Ripley says "But I don't have anything to dance in! I don't even have a dress to wear." He was under the impression that if he wanted "in" on the party he had to go sporting dancing attire -- the way his cousin Rosalie sees dancing attire. Ripley was actually considering if this was worth the sacrifice. He seemed very relieved when I let him know that he wasn't required to wear a dress and that he could dance in anything he wanted. "How about Superman?" referring to his costume. Sure, that would be fine, I said. 

Rosalie: The Princess Ballerina of our family

On Saturday, Benjamin had a swim meet. His team is a small low key group, which is nice. He loves it, has a great time, and gets plenty of exercise without the stress and pressure of a more hard core competitive team. 

Here he is (on the right) cheering for his team with two of his friends Kyle and Jeffrey.

Getting ready (Benjamin's on the right)

And taking off!

Free Christmas Decorations and other news

I love decorating for Christmas. To me, it creates a festive mood and reminds me what Christmas is all about. Now, most of you probably whip out the same things every year like I do. Well stored and taken care of, these things can last for generations. One thing that my mother taught me is to decorate with evergreen clippings from the yard. If you are fortunate enough to live in an area where things such as pine trees, hollies and boxwood's grow -- PRESTO, you have free lovely Christmas decorations! Boxwood's and hollies in particular need to be trimmed from time to time, so wait until December to give them a "haircut".

Gather several different pieces of greens and tie them together with ribbon. Then, tie the ribbon around light fixtures (being careful to stay away from the light bulbs of course). Anytime I receive a gift with ribbon, I horde them and save them for decorations and presents. I put the "decor ribbons" back in my Christmas storage boxes and reuse over and over again. Some of the ribbons pictured here are over 15 years old!
Take some greens and put them into a vase with a ribbon around it.


Someone gave me this sleigh one year. So, every year I wheel it out and use it in some way. This year I decided to put some greens into it. In the background is a plate I made in school in 1974 (yes, I'm dating myself). The funniest thing about the picture is that if you look closely you'll see that Santa's mustache is actually above his nose! Judging from the picture you would never have guessed that I'd go on to be an art major -- would you?

This is a shot of the greens I tied to the light fixture in our 1/2 bathroom downstairs. As an aside, you can see that the walls of our bathroom are lined with pictures. Most of the pictures are framed collage Christmas cards that I've made over the years. So, it shows our family over the years. I love to look at them and so do our guests. One place we all have to visit is the "washroom".

We have a sliding glass door in the back of our house. It looks out to our backyard which is mostly woods. I filled this little planter with evergreens and threw a bow on it. Now when we look out of our window, we see a little bit of Christmas.

For all of you mom's with young children out there -- I just have to tell you about this great little learning tool I purchased from Up With Learning for Ripley's birthday. Although it's an exercise in vinyl and plastic, as a learning tool, it's terrific.

First, Ripley pics a card that has pictures and corresponding words written underneath them. Then, he pics out the vowels (red blocks) and consonants (blue blocks) to spell the word. Finally, he writes out the word for himself. What a great invention. You could certainly try to create your own version with word cards, scrabble pieces and good ole' lined paper. It is from Learning Resources and is called a Phonics Activity Set.

Thanks to Rhonda from Down to Earth for posting the recipe for this Orange Coconut Cake. The frosting (not pictured) didn't come out like hers, I messed it up somehow, but the cake was fabulous. So moist!! Get the recipe HERE.

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I'll leave you with this funny story. For our date night yesterday (an expense and investment I hope we will be able to continue to afford during these trying times) Victor and I decided to fly by the seat of our pants (rather than sticking to our old stand-bys) and head up "to the hill" or rather Federal Hill which is the Italian district here in Providence. Like Boston there is a main drag of restaurants that offer everything from Jamaican to Chinese to nouveau Italian to your traditional Italian cuisine. Mostly it's the later two that fill the main street, Atwells Ave. We were feeling indecisive because usually, I do a little research and know right where we are going. Finally, Victor pulled the car over and parked on a side street. Let me add here that it was pouring down rain. I, in my cute little date night outfit, begrudgingly schlepped (without umbrella) over to Atwells. We walked up and down a few times (with a quick stop at the Providence Oyster Bar for a glass of wine and a few oysters to think things over) and finally landed on one of the very traditional Italian restaurants. A relatively small restaurant, it was like walking into a gathering spot for the local mafia and their families. It was authentic. It was colorful. It was fabulous. You would never know that there was a recession going on and that Rhode Island is tied with Michigan for the highest unemployment rate in the country. The restaurants were jammed. We ended up sitting at the bar rather than wait for a table. Our bartender was this colorful, rather full bodied Italian woman with dark black dyed hair. Her persona borderlined on Seinfeld's Soup Nazi, but if you charmed her in just the right way she was like putty in your hands. The woman sitting next to us with her boyfriend reminded me of Reese Witherspoon and was at least as thin. Our waitress commented when "Reese" pushed aside the large bowl of dressing that came with her Cesar salad and requested olive oil, that it was no wonder she was so thin. (That's all that Reese ordered, by the way.) I, sized 2 woman that I am, ordered a braised Rabe appetizer with garlic, black olives and roasted red peppers AND the lasagna which turned out to be the size of most plates. Our bartendress commented that it was fabulous -- like you made it at home. And it was. I managed to eat all but a one square inch piece. Our ample bartendress commented "Wow! You ate all that?" Um, yes. It was incredible. Thank you. (blush)

Kids are funny ... and amazing!

Ripley says to me yesterday as we were driving home from school, "Why is Santa Clause so funny?" I reply, "What do you mean?" (I'm thinking Ripley is referring to the silly red suit, or the ho, ho, ho's.) Ripley explains, "Why does he have people sit next to him?" Trying to contain my laughter at this point, I say, "Oh! You mean like at the mall?!" "Yes." Ripley confirms simply. "Well," I add "because he is famous and people want to take their picture with him." (I was sort-of grasping at straws on that one ... why do people take pictures next to Santa for heaven's sake???) "Well," Ripley concludes "to me, he is funny."

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This morning before dropping Benjamin off at school, I stopped by the YMCA to see if I'd left my cell phone there. I've managed to misplace the silly thing. Unfortunately, it wasn't there. On our way out Benjamin notices two boxes of food for the local food pantry. In the boxes are your typical food stuffs but on the top is a big ole' box of Trix cereal. Benjamin says "TRIX Cereal!! Why would people give Trix cereal to poor people?! I think they would rather have a toothbrush!" I was so proud.

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Benjamin has a very mathematical mind. A good brain all the way around really. We usually have a few minutes to wait in the school parking lot before he can be dropped off. So, we just chat about all kinds of things, which is great. While we were waiting this morning, all of a sudden Benjamin says "427 - 95 = 332" I look at him and he is staring at the telephone pole. On it are two metal numbers nailed to it: 427 and 95. Benjamin made a math equation out of it. He did this the other day with the digital clock on the stove. "Look! It's 3:47 -- 3+4=7!!"

Now, let me just add that this type of brain activity is the furthest thing not only from my mind but also from my desire. That I have a son that loves to crunch numbers in his head is mind boggling to me. I don't know what to do with the kid. He gets this brain power from his father. I told my brother Scott recently (another big numbers, science and logic thinker) that he needed to start challenging Benjamin's brain with math and science gymnastics -- because that part of his brain is truly beyond me. To say that Home Schooling this child is out of the question is an understatement. Amazing. I am so proud.

Kids are Funny!

Yesterday my SIL Tanya was over with her three children for the afternoon. At some point later in the afternoon Tanya and I heard some major screaming coming from downstairs in the basement. I raced down to the basement to encounter Ripley (4) and Rosalie (4 3/4) going at it. Ripley immediately jumped in to make his case ... "I am talking about Spiderman and SHE is talking about PRINCESSESES!!!"(this is how he said it, with one to many "es"es) Ripley continued "Rosalie says Spiderman saves Princesseses and is nice, but he is NOT, he is scary!!" Then Rosalie jumped in and explained "Spiderman does save Princesses! He is nice." And my dear, sweet Ripley stepped in like the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld and shouted "No! Stop talking!" They would have gone on for hours. I did try to explain to Ripley that Spiderman historically is nice and tried to save people. To which my niece (reminding me of myself) chimes in "See, I was right" matter-of-factly. Ripley would hear nothing of it. When he wears his Spiderman costume, he wants to be powerful and scary -- not nice. However, when Benjamin came home from school and I told him the story he pointed out that Spiderman has never saved a Princess. Point taken.

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For the record, Ripley as never seen any type of Spiderman movie, TV show or anything. All it took was inheriting a pair of Spiderman Pajamas a year ago. As I was discussing with a gal at the YMCA when Ripley showed up with his Spiderman Costume on -- those marketeers sure know how to suck the kids into their schemes. But, Ripley loves that costume and gets a lot of joy out of it. So, it's OK.

Kids are Funny

I've been working like mad on my silly cold frames. It's a race against time. The weather is turning cold, after a little stretch of warmer weather, I'm certain that frost is just days away. Finally, as of 15 minutes ago, I finished scraping and sanding the windows. Now, I just need to caulk (glaze) and paint them (well, and of course attach them to their frames). This is easier b/c I can do that at all hours of the day in any type of weather. I will post them when they are done.

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Meanwhile, I leave you with some funny comments from Ripley.

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Usually when going to my parent's house I require my boys to put on what Ripley has named ... "cute" clothes. My mother especially gets a lot of joy out of seeing her grandchildren all dressed up. (Now, I don't mean in coats and ties or anything -- just a pair of khakis and an unstained, ironed shirt and shoes that aren't meant for sports.) Late last week we went to visit them for dinner. As usual I required the boys to get out of their school clothes and get into their "cute" clothes. I was looking OK (I thought), so I kept my outfit on. Ripley looked at me after dutifully putting on his "cute" clothes and said "How come you don't look cute?" Hmmmmm. Needless to say, I went upstairs and changed. Ripley approved of outfit #2.

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When challenging Ripley, who was being a bit whiny one afternoon recently, I said "But Ripley, I thought you're tough?" Ripley responded "No, I'm not tough, I'm strong." Oh.

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In passing Ripley commented to Benjamin "I don't like ghosts, I like Spiderman. Ghosts are mean." A boy who knows where he stands.

Happy Fall.

Don't buy stuff you cannot afford

This is a Saturday Night Live clip (I've linked before) that everyone should see now more than ever ... it is HILARIOUS! And who doesn't need a good laugh? Click below.

Don't buy stuff you cannot afford