You Capture- Fall

Today's You Capture theme is Fall.  Now, you probably have noticed that my last four or five posts have all been about fall, complete with a million pictures.  But guess what!  I have another picture for you! A bunch of them, actually.  But I'm not gonna post them all.  Nope.

I'm not gonna post the picture of all of us enjoying our new toy up north this past weekend.

I'm not gonna post yet another picture of the gorgeous trees.

I won't even post a pic of the field trip I chaperoned for both Grace's and Ben's classes today to the pumpkin farm.  Can you believe my restraint?

Nope.  I'm just gonna pick one picture to post.  A fairly simple picture for fall but I love it.

Cooking Lessons

My mom used to make homemade bread.  I remember her putting the dough-filled bread pans, carefully covered with towels, out in a sunny spot in the backyard to rise.  I remember how she sprinkled flour on the cutting board and then smushed and burped and folded the dough as she kneaded it.  Occasionally, mom would give me a small amount of dough to knead and shape into a bun.  I would grease my little tin measuring cup with shortening, lovingly place the dough inside, and set it in the oven alongside my mom's perfectly made loaves.

The whole house would fill with the warm yeasty smell and to this day I can't think of mom making bread without also picturing the sunlight coming through the windows and hearing her singing along to Ella Fitzgerald playing on the radio.  I don't ever remember something bad happening when bread was baking in the oven.  

If I was really lucky the loaves would come out of the oven, and after a little cooling time, we would have a warm slice with homemade applesauce on top.  Life was golden and lovely.

It may have happened only a dozen times or so, but making my own little bun alongside my mother is still such a strong memory.  There is something so comforting in cooking memories. Recipes and techniques being passed down.  Stories being told as the lessons are learned.   What a strange connection food and love can have.

I've been thinking about what memories my kids will have of me in the kitchen.  Will they remember me being too scared to let them use the knives?  Will they remember me shooing them away from the stove every five seconds?  Will they remember me chasing them out of the kitchen, away from the possibility of a lesson?  A story?  A passion?  What have I taught them?  What recipes, techniques, memories will they carry with them?

Certainly they will remember making cookies with me.  We've done that often enough.  But so many times they ask to help, and either because of my worries, time constraints, or just my own control issues, their offers are cast aside.  Another opportunity wasted.

They are more capable than I give them credit for.  They are eager and willing to help and participate and bond.  They ask, and I need to give.

It starts out small.  We continue on with cookies.  "This is your great grandma's ginger snap recipe, and it is the best!" I tell them.  We count out the cups of flour and the sugar.  They marvel at the thickness of the molasses and how hard the dough is to stir.  They watch patiently as the cookies plump in the oven.  When the cookies come out of the oven they agree that great grandma really knew what she was doing.

Later on another opportunity arises.

As I am making applesauce Tommy saunters into the kitchen and asks to help.  Instead of my usual answer I tell him to wash his hands and pull up a stool.  I peel and he cores.  A few minutes later Ben sees us.  Then Grace.  Then Joey.  Soon we are all lined up making applesauce.  One peels, one cores, one cuts, one places the apples in the kettle.  An assembly line of the happiest workers you can imagine.  And, afterwards, the applesauce is the best they've ever tasted.  Their applesauce.

No one sliced a finger, no one burned their face off.  And everyone had fun.  It was a lesson for me, and a memory for all of us.

I hope I remember that feeling of being a little girl making bread with my mom the next time one of my kids asks to help me.  I hope I remember that these little things are what make up a lifetime of memories.  I hope that when they get older they will each carry my recipes, my techniques, my stories with them because I was patient enough to show them.





Hosted by Cecily and Lolli

Festively Fall

The wind is whipping up a frenzy outside, beating golden leaves against my window as they rain down from the trees.  I am clutching my steaming coffee in my hands, trying to seep out any warmth that I can.  My sweatshirt, fuzzy socks, and slippers are not enough to keep me warm today though the weather is slightly warmer than it was yesterday.  I have a chill I just can't shake.  Perhaps I should break down and turn on the furnace. 

The weather seems to have taken a sharp turn from warm 70s to cool 50s overnight.   The wind has kicked up too making my runs a bit more difficult with the extra clothing, the heavy winds, and the leaves swirling around my feet as I struggle to keep moving.  Wasn't it just a few days ago I was running in shorts and a tank top?

No matter.  This is fall.  And I just can't help but love fall regardless of the chilly weather, crazy winds, colds that hold on and on, and decreasing sunlight.  

Fall, oh glorious fall.

My house is all gussied up from head to toe in fall decorations.  There are leaves and scarecrows and pumpkins and ghosts and witches everywhere.  Apple pie and mulberry scented candles fill the air.  Pumpkin spice coffee is always brewing, and I am working on my third massive batch of applesauce soon.  Every other day I bring home just one more decoration for the yard, porch, or mantle.  I love watching the kids come home from school and ooh and ahh over the decorations and the smell of the cookies fresh out of the oven.  

Fall, oh glorious fall.

Though the weather was cooler than I'd liked we really lived it up this weekend and managed to fit in a bunch of wonderful fall activity on our list of favorites.  

Number 1 on that list is a trip to the pumpkin farm/apple orchard.  It is definitely a must every year.

The kids took the obligatory family tree picture and Todd and I even got in on a little goofiness as well.

Todd makes for a really hairy woman.

AND, we even managed to get not one, but two, really nice family photos.  Now I just need to pick which one will be framed in our living room.

After the pictures were taken the kids were free to roam around picking out their pumpkins, climb in the haystack, feed the animals, and look at all the goodies in the apple store.

When we had finally paid for our pumpkins, gourds, hay bales, apple cider, and bags of apples it was time to head back home.  The kids were sad to leave the pumpkin farm so I promised more outdoor fun when we got home.  

Leaves littered our front yard and the kids eagerly helped me rake them into a huge pile.  I was pleasantly surprised to see how much the boys were able to help with the raking this year and in no time we had enough leaves for jumping and hiding.  

The kids had a blast in their leaf pile (and Molly had a blast barking at them and biting at the leaves), and I'm still picking up stray leaves in my living room that hitched a ride in on the kids' clothes.   Ah well.  It goes with the rest of the fall decor in my house, right?

We wrapped up the day with a nice warm fire, snuggly blanket nests, a halloween movie, warm fuzzy jammies, fresh apple cider, and popcorn.

It was a darned good day despite the chill in the air.

Fall, oh glorious fall.

WW- Calling My Name

Falling Into Fall

It happens every year.  I fight the start of school, the coming of fall, and then as soon as fall starts I become entranced in the colors, the smells, and the feel of fall all over again.  Each and every year I fall for fall.

New England is known for their brilliant fall colors but Wisconsin is much the same.  There are not many things in this life that can live up to the beauty of a warm, fall day in Wisconsin.

Knowing the weather was predicted to be sunny and 70 and that the leaves would be at their peak this weekend we decided to make the trek to the cabin in northern Wisconsin.  Todd went up on Thursday night to get all of his busy work done, and I stayed home and waited for the kids to get out of school on Friday so the rest of us could join him.

Despite the fact that I woke up Friday morning with a nasty cold, and the day was jam packed with getting the kids ready for school, a trip to the store, running back to school to drop off forgotten paperwork, a doctor's appointment for Ben (he is completely recovered- a miraculous recovery as the doctor has never seen such a quick healer), a doggy haircut, another trip to the store, and packing everyone's bags, I was still looking forward to being up north and soaking in some fall.

I was still in fairly good spirits, despite the fact that I was sick as a dog, the traffic was backed up over the Green Bay bridge, Ben got a massive bloody nose in the car, and a three hour car ride took 4 hours. I was a little less enthused when Todd was not at the cabin (he was in "town" getting a bite to eat with Uncle Greg) when we had finally arrived which meant I had to unpack the whole van by myself.  But, I managed to do it all and still had time to collapse on the bed for 5 minutes before it was time to feed the kids (again) and then get them off to bed.  

After a nice, big heaping of cold medicine I woke up to this.

Not a bad way to start the day.

Grace and I took our time getting up and getting ready while the menfolk were busy getting the chainsaw, wood-splitter, and four wheeler prepped for a day in the woods.   The plan for the day involved removing dead trees and stocking the wood shed for the long winter ahead.

When Grace and I finally ate and got dressed we joined the gents across the road in the woods.  I relaxed my achy back and stuffed head on the four wheeler while the rest of the crew hauled wood back to the trailer.  The boys super duper impressed me with their determination and hard work.

With everyone joining in it only took a little while to split and stack all the wood.  So much wood was split that the pile towered over the boys' heads, and another pile of kindling was stacked on the other side of the shed.

When all the work was done the kiddos and I took a walk down the road to see the beautiful color.  It did not disappoint.  Even Molly admired the view.

The color was so beautiful we couldn't decide which tree was the prettiest.  Reds versus oranges versus yellows versus rusts.  Just too much beauty to take in.

All day long the colors and smells of fall enveloped us and made even the most mundane chore special.

Standing at the kitchen sink, my hands soaked with bubbles, I had to grab my camera one more time and catch the picture right in front of me.

Even with my cold, it was a wonderful way to fall in love with fall.

Around Here

Fall has definitely started around these parts.  It arrived right on schedule.  The temperatures have dropped low enough for us to have our first fire of the year on Friday night, though we have still refused to turn on the furnace.  

The leaves are starting their change.  A few trees are already splashed in reds and yellows and orange. Halloween items are heavily on display and the kids have been talking nonstop about trick or treating, what costume they will choose, and upcoming trips to the pumpkin farm.  

Our pumpkin spice candles have been working overtime in our house and bags of apples lie in wait for me to turn them into my famous chunky applesauce.

On Saturday Grace and I worked in the front and back gardens clearing out the dead plants and flowers and potting the new colorful mums to take their place.  I couldn't help but notice all the Christmas trees being set up at Walmart when I was picking out my mums, and though it made me pretty angry it didn't change my festive fall mood.  

The one unfortunate side affect of fall is the sickies that always seem to come with it (and the start of school).  We had planned on going up north this weekend to see the magnificent color, but it was supposed to be rainy and chilly and Ben was nursing a cold so we decided to stay home.  

On Saturday morning Ben's throat seemed much worse so we took him to the doctor.  A strep test was done and came back negative.   We figured it was just a nasty virus.  

As the day and night wore on Ben got worse.  His glands swelled so that you could see them sticking out of his neck.  The poor kid was miserable and could barely swallow.  On Sunday we hunkered down and tried to make Ben as comfortable as possible.  The majority of his day was spent in front of the fire (literally, right in front of the fire) trying to warm up and even falling asleep.  By Sunday night Todd and I decided that Ben needed to go back to the doctor in the morning.  

First thing this morning, after the other kids were off to school, the doctor saw Ben and decided to run some blood tests.  The tests revealed that Ben has mono.  A bit of a surprise in such a young kid, but not unheard of.  Poor little pickle.  

Ben is currently in a nice hot bath before we have to go and pick up Grace from school, and then I'm sure it will be more blankets, fires, cuddling, and hopefully we'll get some soup and ice cream and yogurts down.  

Embracing Change

The past few posts I have been doing a lot of complaining about how fast time is going and I made it pretty clear that I don't always like change.

In an effort to embrace change I decided to do something I've been putting off for a while now.

Grace got her first real haircut.

True, I have cut her bangs a number of times before, but I never cut the rest of her hair.  First haircuts are a big deal to me.  It always seems to take the child from baby to big kid, and as you know by now, speeding up time in my house is strictly forbidden.

For the boys' 1st haircuts they all went to a barber shop.  For Grace's 1st haircut I thought it would be neat if she got her haircut from grandma (my mom used to be a beautician) just like I always did when I was little.

Grace was very excited to be getting her hair cut.  She has been asking for a while now (probably since I cut all mine off) and was tired of her long hair getting stuck in her armpits when she slept and getting all knotted and snarly.

Grace sat perfectly for grandma and before you know it she was done.

We were both happy with the results.  Long enough to throw back in a ponytail but not so long that it gets in the way.  And she still looks like my little Grace, thank goodness.

Embracing change, little steps at a time.  And it wasn't as painful as I'd thought it would be.

Hosted by Cecily and Lolli