Wheels

We bought Jack a new bike this week. In the interest of frugality, we had hoped to squeak by with the old bike until birthday time rolls around. After watching Jack furiously pedal twenty times harder than the rest of us to keep our leisurely pace on a recent family bike ride, however, we started shopping around for the upgrade. New bike for Jack = new bike for Sawyer. Everybody wins.

Cycles. Wheels. Spinning. I watch as my kids go tearing down the sidewalk on their new bikes, each one experiencing the thrill of speed and independence. I stare at those little blond boys and listen to their gleeful shouts and the obnoxious sound of their bike horns, neon orange safety flags flapping along behind them. Look both ways! Watch for cars! I half jog along in the wake of their enthusiasm and breathe in the moment. This moment right now. It's fall and change is in the air. But change is always in the air when your kids are young.

Maybe it's my upcoming birthday that has me feeling introspective. 35 years old, thank you very much. And also the cycle of the seasons and another school year and one gigantic step closer to kindergarten and t-ball and sleepovers and jumping that new bike off the curb. These babies of mine are really more like kids now. I am pedaling as fast as I can to keep up.

Food. It's kind of an obsession these days. These cool, crisp mornings serve as a daily reminder: Make that pesto. Cook down more tomatoes. Blanche those ears of corn. Get started on that applesauce. I now know that whatever we do won't be enough. The tricky part is being okay with that. For now, the massive production continues with late night chopping and boiling and sterilizing and taking last minute trips to the store for more lids.

Speaking of last minute, I think impromptu birthday/dinner parties are my new favorite type of entertaining. Low expectations, no time to clean the house beforehand, no complex entrees. That's my kind of party. Also, cake pops? Do you know about cake pops? Cake pops make any party cool.

Did somebody forget my cake pop?

The tight circle of friends is what makes it easy to cycle back into work mode each fall. I spend my days with people I love and admire. Our kids are growing up together. We are each other's people. We laugh a lot, too.

I am a fan of the late summer wedding. One last hurrah before the rain comes. The kids and I spent an evening with my cousin Dave and Emily as they joined their hands in the circle of love that creates a family.

Love begins.

Love endures.

Love is silly.

Sometimes love comes in the form of chocolate cake.

Lovely things often come in threes.

And this one, well, I guess for some of us love is like corn on the cob on a summer's evening, the promise of chocolate cake, and being surrounded by the people who think you are the most awesomely amazing two-year-old ever.

And they are right, those people. Especially on your new wheels.

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Too Cool for School

I recently became mildly obsessed with making these cute and super easy lunch and snack bags. I am forever stashing away scraps of fabrics that really should be tossed out because they are too small for most projects, but now they have a purpose! Snack bags! Oh yes indeed, I am excited about these snack bags!

Also, pants! I really really really wanted to love these pants because I adore every single thing on the Made website and the idea of flat front trouser type pants for my boys made me really happy. But sadly, I must report, that after two attempts I believe I am incapable of making those flat fronts truly flat. Oh well. (I do like the knee pads, though.)

New pants, snack bags, that's right: it's preschool time! And this year we decided to send Sawyer along with Jack and YES they are in the same class and YES we did already apologize to the teacher for that one. And NO we are not cutting Sawyer's hair. EVER. Apparently.

Jack is the big man on campus, having attended the preschool last year, but this has been totally new territory for Sawyer. He's super excited about the whole thing and will tell anyone who is willing to listen all about "mine preschool" (he is kind of a Deutchlander at times) and circle time and naps and soccer and I keep hearing him singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" under his breath, which I assume is a preschool song since it's not in our household music repertoire which consists mostly of off-key versions of "Love Potion Number 9" and "Take Me Out to the Ballgame".

And just what will Brent be doing with all of his kid-free time? Will he be polishing the china, watching soap operas, and ironing the bedsheets? Nope. It's back to school time for Brent, as well.

It's really too bad that the summer harvest bounty has to coincide with my return to work. It's hard to find the motivation to tackle flat after flat of tomatoes when you've spent the entire day educating the future of our country. But we will have enough pizza sauce, dammit. Even if I have to stay up past my bedtime to make it happen.

The kids and I tried our hands at homemade granola this week. Why have I never tried this before? So easy and so delicious. Probably kinda healthy, too. Here's what we did:

3 cups oatmeal

1 cup chopped nuts (I had walnuts)

1 cup raisins

1/2 cup dried cranberries

1 tsp. cinnamon

1 tsp. nutmeg

1/4 cup light (in flavor) olive oil

1/4-1/2 cup maple syrup*

Line a rimmed cookie sheet with foil and heat the oven to 300. Mix ingredients and press onto cookie sheet to 1/2 inch thickness. Bake for 20 minutes, rotate, then bake for 20 more. That's it. Store in an airtight container and use within a week.

*I used 1/4 cup but Brent thought it could have been sweeter. So maybe add more syrup? Your call.

Speaking of work, this is my seventh year (somebody please tell me how this happened? Also, I have a four and a half year old? Wtf?) and things are getting a tad on the stale side. So I decided that I would try to reinvent myself this year so that I could become more of a cool teacher. Go ahead and laugh when I tell you that this is harder than you might think. For starters, I am not cool by nature, so we're working against some powerful natural forces here. Secondly, it's exhausting to try to stay current with the youth of today because they are just so damn fickle and usually by the time I figure out something cool it's already on its way out. Nevertheless I decided to rebrand myself and that involved learning about Lady Gaga and contemplating the appropriateness of skinny jeans on a 34 year old mother of two and creating a brand spankin' new intro powerpoint for the first day of school.

Have you ever tried to condense your life into a few powerpoint slides? It's kind of a humbling experience. Just who am I? I needed to sent a powerful message to my students with this one: I am your teacher and I am also cool. This would be tricky.

(Lesson one: the oxymoron!)

Except that when I started putting together the pieces of my life in that powerpoint it became painfully obvious that the things I like, the things I'm into, the things that I do that make me who I am, are all decidedly NOT cool. Especially not to teenagers.

I like to sew.

I like to cook.

I like to clean my house.

I get really excited about freezer corn.

I eat a lot of cookies.

I ride my bike. (That one might be cool?)

I make snack bags and then take pictures of them.

Sometimes I run.

I have a husband, two kids, a dog, some chickens, and a mortgage.

I recently discovered the joy of homemade granola.

Hmm. Maybe I should take out the part about the snack bags. Would that make me sound cooler?

Remember when being really nerdy became cool for awhile? I might just have to wait for that one to come around again.

In the meantime, I have snack bags to make and tomatoes to slice and cookies to bake and Lady Gaga songs to listen to. There's a lot of work to be done around here.

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A Long Weekend

Labor Day weekend is kind of the anti-holiday of all holidays for teachers. I mean sure you get the long weekend, in theory, but there are always a million things to do in preparation for The First Day. I was up to my eyeballs in unfinished bulletin boards, unsharpened pencils, unopened curriculum binders, and all of the other parts of my job description that become the bane of my early September existence.

Any upstanding, sensible teacher will work nose to the grindstone right on through that holiday. A dedicated professional educator will lovingly staple up a bulletin board masterpiece, alphabetize her silent reading books, and make thoughtful seating charts. A good teacher will meticulously plan EACH and EVERY detail for that crucial first week of school even if it means working late into the evening and hoping that the custodians haven't locked you inside.

I went to the beach.

Cousin Xavier came, too.

Did you know that Brent is actually a real life surfer dude? Neither did I. After six years of marriage he continues to surprise me.

It was your textbook perfect beach day. Not an Oregon coast day, mind you, but an actual beach day. As in sunshine and warm temperatures and bikinis and swimming and sunscreen rather than your typical menu of raincoats and wind and sea foam blowing in your face.

The kids ran and splashed and explored for hours and hours. Brent surfed for hours and hours. And I just kind of hung out and was really happy not to be putting up my bulletin boards.

Sawyer was out as soon as he hit the car seat.

We camped at Nehalem State Park, just south of Manzanita. It was Nick's birthday and he and Mishaun met us there for a night of campfire, s'mores, and snuggles with nephews.

And did I get a single picture of the birthday boy? Nope. But I have about fifty shots of the kids eating s'mores, so I guess that counts for something.

Sometimes when look through the pictures trying to decide which ones to post I marvel at the number of kid photos. Really, these boys of mine see the camera lens often. This trip was no exception- just how many pictures of my kids running on the beach do I need? Apparently a lot. But I think it's okay that the kids are in every shot because this trip, just like all our trips, was really about those kids. Spending time with a cousin, watching Dad as he rides that perfect wave, celebrating a birthday with Uncle Nick. In fact, if it weren't for these kids and those memories I'm always wanting them to be making, I just might be tempted to stay behind on Labor Day weekend and tie up all of those tedious work-related loose ends.

But let's face it, those bulletin boards could wait. A perfect day at the beach could not.

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A Party for Jack

I should be sleeping.

My clothes are laid out, my water bottle is clean, the coffee maker is set to go. Oh, and I just set my alarm clock for the first time in months.

So in theory I suppose I am ready for tomorrow. But in reality I am still pretty much in denial about the whole thing. Can it really be the end of August already? I guess so. Sigh.

Anyways, my kids have pretty lame birthdays. February and March aren't exactly party months- especially if you live in a small house. After having attended several outdoor summer parties this season, Jack announced that he wanted to have his own little fiesta. He quickly schemed up his own party plans with balloons and cake and pinatas and s'mores and ALL OF HIS FRIENDS. Hmmm. Again, small house.

But we went for it, full steam ahead and I rallied up the troops, filled up the pool, scattered some toys around the yard and suddenly we had 14 kids and a big old bunch of parents and Jack's special request menu of potato salad and hotdogs and ice cream cones. I managed to talk Jack out of the pinata and the s'mores at least. And thank god I did not put any effort into the dessert menu because I would have been completely outdone by my friend Kristine's AMAZING chocolate cookies. (Kristine? Recipe, please?). As you probably already know I am a cookie aficionado and I don't go tossing around adjectives like AMAZING to describe any old cookie. They were melt in your mouth fudgy gooey chocolate chunky OH MY GOD type cookies. (Would it embarrass you if I called them orgasmic? I don't usually go tossing around that adjective either, but these cookies are a special case. Orgasmic I tell you!)

14 kids can produce an insane amount of energy. Wow. And especially the boy energy. Again, wow. It is a good thing we had plenty of those cookies to keep us grown ups going strong throughout the evening. And the keg of Ninkasi IPA was also helpful...

Um, where's my chocolate cookie?

Yep, that's it for pictures. Like I said, there was a lot of kid energy at this party. Not the best for taking in focus photos.

So I think we're good on kids' parties for awhile. Jack had a blast and our house did not get destroyed so I consider it a success. A loud success, but a success nonetheless. And we will just cross those February and March birthday bridges when they come.

For now I have bigger things to worry about. Like how the hell am I going to haul my weary carcass out of bed at 6:30 tomorrow morning? And how did it get to be the end of August already? And why is the summer so short?

And just how do I get ahold of some more of those chocolate cookies before tomorrow? They just might make the first day back at work a bit more palatable.

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The End

Well, I guess it's time to say goodbye to summer. Goodbye to the suckiest summer ever in terms of weather, but one of the best summers EVER in terms of everything else.

Because this summer was all about the travel and the late night barbecues with friends. The popsicles, the campouts, the bountiful harvest (thanks to Lost Creek Organic Farm), late night salsa canning parties, adventures with the pressure cooker, and the playdates. And this summer we were all about the non-chaperoned playdate. You guys, we actually have friends who will take our kids for hours at a time in the name of playdates. Oh yes, it was a fun summer for playdates. A fun summer indeed.

I have a certain nostalgia for bikerides in the darkness on a warm summer evening after a few beers. Nothing says summer to me quite like that brief moment when you lose sight of the pavement and sail into the blackest of night, coasting along and hoping you remember your way as you blindly pedal forward.

And there were also swimming lessons. And a lot of time spent on the bleachers trying to keep Sawyer occupied while Jack learned to chicken-airplane-soldier.

He ran up to me excitedly after the first swim class to announce that there were bobbins! Just like on the sewing machine! Love that kid.

We continue to read a ton. Our shady back deck and cozy camping chairs make the perfect afternoon library, especially when a friend comes for dinner and brings a new book to add to our collection. I do wonder why I didn't start with the bigger kid books earlier.

We finished Runaway Ralph and now we're deep into Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. This has been my absolute favorite so far. I am loving the vivid imagery, the outlandish fantasy and the subversive morality. It surprises me how much Jack really understands. I feel like I've unlocked a little piece of his puzzle with this reading thing. Up next: Harry Potter. I know!!!

Also this summer I conquered the art of canning. Well, I at least overcame my fear of the pressure cooker and botulism and tainted canning lids to do up a big old batch of green beans with a friend. And after all of the washing and the trimming and the funneling and the pressure cooking I realized that we don't really like canned green beans much at all. Oh well, I still have my chest freezer and plenty more beans coming my way...

Do you ever wonder what to do with all of those cherry tomatoes?

I've been oven roasting ours and popping them into the freezer. Brent, who is the pickiest tomato eater of us all, declares that they are delicious. I'm hoping to use them in quiches and on pizzas this winter. I followed this easy recipe, in case you too have cherry tomatoes that need a destination.

If you stopped by my house this summer you probably walked away with a jar of blackberry jam. I'm not sure why it took me so long to come around to the idea of blackberry jam, but now that I've started making it I just can't seem to stop. It is so good. And easy. And with two blackberry pickers around to do the dirty work I've found myself making it on a daily basis. Oh yeah, it's that good.

Jack can do almost an entire batch by himself. He just needs help with the stove and the funnel. That's my boy!

Here is our very unscientific method for blackberry jam:

Pick a few cups of blackberries (5-6? It really doesn't matter)

Rinse the berries in a colander and then mash them in a saucepan.

Bring the pulverized berries to a low boil and stir in a bit of sugar (less is more! Maybe 1/2 cup?) and a couple of spoonfuls of pectin.

Stir in some water (say 1/2 cup?)

Let boil for a minute or so.

Pour into clean jars, top with a lid, and let them sit on the counter for a day.

Refrigerate, freeze, or give them away to lucky friends and family.

Also, blackberries really add some color to your smoothies. Observe:

And. AND! BLACKBERRY SYRUP! OMFG. You know how I feel about pancakes, so you can imagine that my enthusiasm for blackberry syrup is intense. Woah.

Anyway, my main reason for wanting to learn how to can was SALSA! Who doesn't love some garden salsa in the middle of January? Turns out- no shocker here- that canning is actually a lot easier than I thought it would be. We did two different batches of salsa and I recommend this one. But probably you won't be leaving my house with a jar of salsa when you come to visit. Those tomatoes are a pain in the ass to peel.

And now we are going to attempt to cram in every last summery detail possible before next Monday rears its ugly head and hi ho hi ho and all that cheery back to work crap.

Let's start with some nekkid boys in the sprinkler.

I feel better now. And anyway, I still have this week to pick blueberries and swim in the lake and gaze at the summer stars.

(Hi ho hi ho)

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24 Things to Do in Chico

24. Haul a herd of kids to Caper Acres and make them pose for the traditional Humpty Dumpty Wall Picture. Then decide to publish ONLY the most ridiculous one. (Is he an egg or a 1970's used car salesman? It's really hard to tell.)

23. Take a leisurely jog through Bidwell Park with your two kids packed into a single stroller and a bike across the top. Ha.

22. Loosen up on the rules and let your kids play video games (!! I know!!) with the big kids.

21. Visit the Chico Farmers' Market. Marvel at the low prices and the long growing season. Buy a bag of peaches and some tamales for lunch. Pick up a half flat of organic strawberries for only $12 to make freezer jam with your cousin. Kick yourself the entire drive home to Oregon for not buying a flat of those incredibly juicy organic peaches that could have been yours for $2 a pound.

20. Teach your cousin how to make freezer jam. Maybe this will make up for the fact that YOU FORGOT THE WEDDING PRESENT. Maybe.

19. Drive by Bidwell Mansion. Fondly recall the time you got dragged along on the tour as a child. Lament California's economic woes when you hear it is closing for good.

18. Get a "triple thick" milkshake from Big Al's. If you really want to sound like a tourist, accidentally call it Crazy Dan's. I recommend the chocolate.

17. Go to the local Winco Foods and become enthralled by the cleanliness and friendly people who work there. Eat free samples of a granola bar. Ogle the bulk foods. Admire the bakery. Cringe when you think of your own ghetto Winco back home.

(It should be noted that while visiting a grocery store as a tourist destination might seem strange to some, it is a known practice in my family. My uncle Bill always visits the local Costco when he travels. So there. Totally normal.)

16. Listen to classic rock. Why? Because in Chico you listen to classic rock. That's just the way it is.

15. Drink a vodka Crystal Light juice cocktail at five o'clock, following a longstanding Deinema tradition that I'm quite certain will endure. Why Crystal Light? Again, that's just how it is.

14. Eat shredded chicken tacos made by my uncle Jeff. Or if you are Brent, eat six tacos and then become self conscious about eating so many tacos that you then consider stealing a bowl of shredded chicken from the refrigerator and hiding out in the garage.

13. Drink the local beer.

12. Stock up on pistachios. In Chico the pistachios are BIGGER and EASIER TO OPEN!

11. Visit the brewery!

10. Oregon! REPRESENT!

9. But when you sign up for the tour, make sure you read the fine print. If you are not there ten minutes early, you lose your spot. We learned this the hard way and some members of our party had to stay behind and wait for us in the bar. Poor things.

8. Also, take them seriously when they warn you over and over again that there will be NO RESTROOMS AVAILABLE while on the tour. The 90 minute tour. That's a lot of minutes when you really have to pee.

(You might be able to sweet talk the tour guide into letting you through the secret restroom access passageway. Then it's on to the tasting room!)

7. Drink many, many little beers and enjoy the company of cousins you don't see often enough.

6. Bask in the sunshine, dive into the pool, appreciate the novelty of 90 degree days knowing full well that it's cold and raining back home in Eugene.

5. Pick up some mafiosos to take along to your cousin's wedding reception.

4. Watch them broker some shady deals with a crime boss. Note the cigar.

3. Eat, drink, and be merry.

2. Pose in your party dress.

(You see that invisible zipper? Oh no you don't. 'Cause it's invisible! Can I get a booyah?)

1. And then sit back and watch as your favorite cousin finds happily ever after.

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