These purple carrots

We're doing a few experiments in our garden again, a collaboration with the NDSU extension. We're nothing special. But we like to think we are, and when I word it like that... it sure sounds like we are. Special, I mean.

This garden just went crazy behind my back these last few weeks. It always does that in July. I figured we had the weeds about 80% under control. And then? July happened.

So I figured we'd better get started taste-testing these odd carrots. They're purple. I guess I told the kids these ones were going to be purple, because they were neither impressed nor surprised. With all the drama we usually have going on around here, I was honestly a bit disappointed.

We picked a few carrots. Carefully. In two bundles as to not get the two varieties mixed up.

'Cause we have to be responsible with this one, you know.


No drama to write home about.

For once.

(Yesterday was a different story... Emergency Room. Stitches. Lots of wailing and snot.)


Oh, and the girl found a very pretty squash. That was after she ate a basil leaf half the size of her head. Now do you think she'd eat a leaf of basil if I handed it to her in the house? No way. These kids always smell very, ummm... culinary(?) after a trip to the garden. One favors the cilantro, and the other two go after the basil, but it has to be foraged completely on their own.

Scratch and sniff: Basil


I'm realizing now these pictures make it look like our garden is on the moon (or Texas?), or mulched with rock, or something. This is actually up on our driveway next to the house. The driveway has weeds too. It keeps the chickens busy. Everything around here has a purpose, people.



Even the squash.

On the kitchen table...

Just as I found them:







I have no idea who started it this time, but I love these kids' creativity. Our table sees so many beautiful things.

March 10 (+2) on 10

She's getting braver. I don't know if it's the super-awesome fish treats, or if the kids have learned to be quieter around her, or if she's going senile. My vote would be for the fish treats.

Fish, Ellie? FISH!???



He's the mechanical-minded one - asked for a toothpick and went and got himself a light. Then he announced that if he spun the wheels backwards all that junk caught around them started to unwind itself. Not too bad for a six year old. Then again, he's always had an interesting connection with cars... ahem... having been born in one.



Our drive to church. Kind of bleak. Kind of still winter. Endless month of March. I'm totally okay with it this year, which is unusual.



Ye old styrofoam cup, always begging to be mutilated.

Peek:



And a peek back:



You have muddy pawprints on your sunroof too, right?

See the reflection of the little girl feet?



This was right before his head smashed into my lens... which smashed my camera into my glasses. My new glasses. My only-four-days-ago I got'em glasses. My I-gotta-go-back-and-get-them-adjusted already again glasses. My this-is-exactly-why-I-got-two-pairs-of-them glasses. I win, dear readers. I win.



She's three. But she's almost four. And when it gets deathly quiet, it's still a dreadful thing. Blue sand dunes all over the kitchen floor? True story. I lose.



Just try, ladies. Just you try coming through that door.

WHAM!



And there's most of the menagerie. What should we add next? Turkeys? Goats? Emu?



The spoiled floppy purring one. And there. All the cats made it into one blog post.



Did I mention she's still a handful? Some nights this is the only way (without tears) I can convince her to head into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

February 10 on 10

He's creating a masterpiece drawing on the iPad. What kind of masterpiece, you ask? The kind with a rocket ship that suddenly lights on fire so all the frogs have to jump out and then you draw parachutes on them, of course, because frogs can't fly very well on their own. Mouth open concentration required. Cute sister optional.



We were in a blizzard warning, or blizzard watch, or prepare yourself HERE COMES THE WIND, or church and 4H cancelled or something like that. I was confused. But then I saw Marshall hunkered down in the chicken coop and figured something must be brewing. The critters always know.



More creative concentration in full swing...



Then, instead of a blizzard, the sillies arrived. What else do you do on a so called Snow Day when someone "accidentally" smashes a plant?

Mom: "Hey, all you need is a toga!"
Kid: "What's a toga?"



I call this one: "Brave children onward through the snow"
Alternately titled: "Mom kicked them straight out the front door"



Kids outside, peaceful house inside, my Ellie slinks out of the attic temporarily.



Two hours later, he's nowhere near ready to come in yet... and by the way, for all my Southern friends, it was so warm out the dog was panting. True story.



Prelude to bedtime. How do you comb a Dad's hair when he hasn't got any hair to comb?



It's obvious what this is, right?

What, you can't tell?

Hello. It's a Christmas Tree.



The commute to my virtual office is a short one. Blowing snow and ice has Interstate shut down? Whatever.

Not all online chat agents barely speak English and live in India. Sometimes they live in the middle of North Dakota. Some forward-looking companies want their customers to have someone knowledgeable to walk the aisles of their online stores with them, except, in a less creepy way. And if you (by some act of God, or perhaps lack of regard for normal safety standards that most humans have) smashed your Nikon D90 at an off-road race in SoCal... I'll promise we'll get along okay, even though I love Canon. And I'll tell you the Mack Diamond warranty might be nice for "normal and abnormal wear and tear" but it's too bad it'll only cover your gear and not your personal injuries. And then I'll sell you a sweet new Nikon camera.

I am really loving this job, it's such a perfect fit for where I am in life right now.



Oh, and dual monitors? Kicks butt.

Favorites of 2012

You know those two roads that diverged in a yellow wood?

It's true.

The one less traveled by has made all the difference.



The Battle

Featured in the "Why it Works" section of the January 2013 issue of CLICK magazine.


Captive

Yes, I am that Mom that rescues a turtle off the highway and tosses it in my son's lap while he squeals like a little girl.


Waiting

My beautiful baby sister and her belly!


Left Behind: First Day of School

Featured on Clickin' Moms blog and facebook wall


Enough Helpers?



Curiosity



What Remains

Featured on Clickin' Moms blog
Best of Show at our local County Fair


Summer Bliss



Childhood Memory



Epic Quest



Solstice

Problem solving

"Give me a five here on my foot", said the kid in the tree...






Oh, also? Those boys took apart a washing machine and a dryer, almost completely by themselves. And then? They partly reassembled them.


{yes one is in the dryer}

Garden of Summer-past

Goodbye garden. Hello garden-blogging fail.



I'm equal parts thrilled and cringing that October is almost here.

This is my very favorite time of year. Running through crunchy leaves, sipping spiced cider, listening to my chickens sing as they scratch up the last of Summer's bugs, tidying up the garden in perfect hazy afternoon light, hearing combines chewing through the fields surrounding us, constantly sampling bits of whatever is going on or coming off our overworked dehydrator, tripping over the produce that spills out of our entryway and into our home... The whole season is one great big sensory experience, and I love it.

Cringing because, well, these glorious weeks are so fleeting.

And here it is, yes, almost October.


{not snow - cattail seeds}

And I have failed to blog about... anything and everything. But the garden? I barely mentioned it three times. That makes me cringe too. Seedlings in eggshells, harvesting peas, and voluptuous eggplants. That was it.

I did the writing in my head.

Here are handful of abbreviated posts that never made it to press:

1. I neglected far too much of our garden the previous year. The perfect solution to that is obviously to add another fifty square feet and five NDSU home garden variety trials. The observing, learning, comparing, tasting, and ownership the kids had of their trials was a beautiful thing. I wholeheartedly recommend this program to my North Dakota friends!

2. Our pole bean tee-pee was magnificent. I've never grown pole beans before. I underestimated them. It was shocking how the tee-pee went from bare to covered to unrecognizable (in a matter of fourteen days) as the beans went beyond crazy. The cats loved that thing, far too much. They even left offerings exactly in the middle of it. So weird.





3. The younger boy planted sixteen watermelon plants. See variety trials above. See oppressed overworked dehydrator above.



4. Apples! Finally these trees produced enough to justify using the word harvest. And harvest we did. We waited four and a half years for this.


{maybe that one had a bug?}

5. I cannot imagine fall without winter squash. A whole long shelf full. Every one of my seeds rotted in the ground this Spring, and I was irrationally upset about it. Yeah, I know I can get winter squash at the grocery store or the Farmer's Market. It just isn't the same. Then I found a volunteer something among the sunflowers that looked suspiciously gourd-like. Sweet happy day when I realized it was, in fact, winter squash. God does answer insignificant little prayers.