sistermama gets real

danger, walking, eating

I left my hotel last night at about 6:00 pm to walk over to the Montreal Museum of Contemporary Art.  My first walking impression of Montreal was that the pollution was really bad.  I could smell it and it was tingling my eyes.  I ducked into a bank in the corner of a large building complex so that I could use the ATM.  As soon as I stuck my card into the machine, the announcement cycling on the PA system switched to English and I realized why there was a loud, repetitive beeping broadcasting in the little ATM room.  Turns out the pollution probably isn't normally so bad. This was the scene on the other side of the building.

The museum was a bust as they were between exhibits and only had one currently open.  I decided to walk around and check out the area.  Montreal is super pedestrian friendly and REALLY clean.  Strangely, though, there were very few garbage cans, so I'm not quite sure how they managed that. I walked for about two hours around Rue St. Catherine, Rue St. Laurent and Rue St. Urbain. 

 
I headed down to Old Montreal to do the touristy stuff.  Old Montreal is said to look like an old European street and I guess it does, but honestly it seemed like much ado about not much.  It was pretty, but not much different from what I've seen in many other cities.   It is a nice space to walk around though, the evening was mild and there was lots of opportunity for people watching.  I stopped to have dinner at a place where I could sit outside.  My dinner sounded SO good on the menu, but only so so in actuality.  I've had better crepes in Schenectady.  The draft cider was really good though. 

The gelatto from next door more than made up for the lackluster food.  Nutella gelatto?  As fabulous as it sounds.  Halved with pistachio gelatto?  I may have to go back tonight. 

goodbye April, hello Montreal

We traveled from Spring (Lucy in my spring coat circa 1978, isn't it so sweet?)

To summer (those 6 year old grins really crack me up!)

Tried out the pillow case dresses and loved them

Now I am off to Montreal.  Yes, I, not we not us just I.  As in three nights sleeping in a bed by myself, walking around a new city, eating yummy meals I don't have to rush through and, oh yeah, attending the conference that is the actual reason I'm going.  But really, the conference may just be cover for sleeping alone! 

I'm a little worried about Lucy Worried isn't the way to describe it since she will be cared for by her father, grandmother, great grandmother and also a dear friend.  I guess it would make more sense to say I feel empathy for her, since I know it won't be super easy on her for me to be gone.  My friend and I were talking last night about how when we were little, kids still cried when they started kindergarten,  in fact it was normal for 5 year olds to cry as often their mothers were leaving them for the first time.  But now it is considered strange that my 4.5 year old cries when I leave... Anyways, this morning at breakfast I drew out a little calendar for Lucy so she would know what she is doing each day I'm gone, and also be able to track when I will be back.

Wednesday - Mommy leaves, its a Daddy day
Thursday - Daddy day with mac and cheese for lunch and soccer play
Friday - Day at our friend's house, with little bounce house, sleep over at Grandma's house
Saturday - Day with Reg and Great (Jack and Lucy call their grandma "Reg" short for regular as in    regular grandma as opposed to great grandma, who is called Great!  Soccer game.
Sunday - Self explanatory!

Poetry Friday

I'm going to try and post poems (by other people!) on Fridays, just because I never seem to find the time to read poetry even though I want to.  Of course I'll do this legally, and not violate current copyrights while I'm at it. 

I was first introduced to Adelaide Crapsey when I was reading A Northern Light.  This excerpt from To the Dead in the Graveyard Underneath My Window  serves as the epigraph:

And if the many sayings of the wise
Teach of submission I will not submit
But with a spirit all unreconciled
Flash an unquenched defiance to the stars.

I've been thinking about what she means "with a spirit all unreconciled."  Unreconciled to the teachings of the wise?  Unreconciled with her choice of nonsubmission (I'm not sure this is a word)? 

I like these  two three, as well:

Release
With swift
Great sweep of her
Magnificent arm my pain
Clanged back the doors that shut my soul
From life.

Trapped
Well and
If day on day
Follows, and weary year
On year...and ever days and years...
Well?

Amaze
I know
Not these my hands
And yet I think there was
A woman like me once had hands
Like these.

Can you tell she invented the cinquan?  Crapsey is one in a long line of female poets whose work was long disregarded, seen as trivial and mundane.  I appreciate the "everyday"ness of it.

Quick Easter Sewing

I have just got to admit to myself that I am not a pattern type sewer.

I bought all of this stuff a few weeks ago after I realized I was too close to Easter to pick up any Strasburg dresses on ebay.  I had the patterns from a big dollar sale last fall.  In the bag all this stuff sat.  My mom offered MULTIPLE times to help me sew, even offered to help cut patterns.  Saintly if you ask me.  I gave her every excuse in the book though.  Because, truth be finally realized and told, I HATE sewing from patterns.  I don't like cutting them, marking them, reading the directions, etc., etc., etc..  I also don't love off the rack clothes or paying for new fabric.  What I do like?  Making things up as I go along, getting visual inspiration from someone's online tutorial, using thrifted, repurposed fabric and best of all, simply marking lines on fabric with disappering ink. 

With a wedding and Easter coming up in the next two weeks, enter the pillowcase dress and I am saved.

Ignore the fact that my lighting is always awful.  I never remember to take pictures until about 9:00 pm.

My mom came over last Sunday and we whipped these up in no time.  Hand tacking on the ribbon ties probably took longer than anything else.  Lucy has a pair of white eyelet bloomers that are going to look really sweet under these dresses.  Jack and I are in agreement that a little ric-rac makes everything better.

I love when I can make something new out of something old (and cheap or free).  My favorite quick girl sew before these pillowcase dresses is this great idea for turning a men's shirt into a sundress.
I've also had good luck cutting down adult size dresses into Lucy sized skirts.  Adult sleeves make quick and easy toddler pants.  What other great ideas am I missing for repurposing fabric?

Do it now

I went to my cousin's memorial on Saturday night, she died unexpectedly about a month ago.  The service was really moving - her sister made a lovely tribute to her, her father (my uncle) wrote and shared a beautiful poem and her niece sang "In the Arms of an Angel" by Sarah McLaughlin.  The song could have been written about my cousin.  Her niece wasn't able to make it all the way through the song and the most beautiful part of the evening occurred when most of the people in the room picked up the song when she was not able. 

I am so sad to say that, although I lived in the same town as my cousin for the first time in 20 years, I hadn't seen her in over a year.   She was about ten years older than me and was always one of my "cool" cousins.  I couldn't be around her without laughing hysterically about something.  We shared a very similar, sarcastic sense of humor. 

As I sat at the memorial, I looked around the room taking stock of the people I hadn't seen in a while.  It is slightly macabre, but I did wonder how I would feel if one of them died and once again I hadn't connected with them in ages.  Were they all my "immediate" family?  Or even first cousins? No, not necessarily.  But they are people with whom I share a bond of family.  What can I do in the coming year to nurture that bond?  In times like these I am constantly reminding myself that all we really have is each other.

I can't instantly mend every fractured relationship in my life, or somehow carve out time to dedicated to every person I miss, but I can be more deliberate in reaching out.  So, who haven't you spoken to in a while - out of "busy"ness, or even anger? Give them a call, write a letter, email them.  Please share any ideas with me about how you manage this in your life.

funky smell = yummy dinner

 

When I came out from my attempted nap yesterday afternoon, the first thing I noticed was that the house smelled really funky.  Kind of like onions, but in a weird way.  John HATES onions, so with much disbelief in my voice I asked him, "Were you cutting onions?"  Nope, but Jack had found one of our first real signs of spring - wild chives.  Although we collected lots of them last year on hikes, I somehow missed that our backyard was full of them.  Omelets for dinner? Perfect since I had nothing planned plus we are going out of town next week and I'm trying to eat down the fridge and pantry.  I also had some asparagus, so roasted it up my new favorite way.  We eat LOTS of eggs since we get high quality eggs from a local farm at such a great price.  Eggs plus veg is one of our most frequent go to dinners, just behind brown rice plus veg!  We made the omelets with the chives and some raw havarti from Hawthorne Valley.

If the chives are up, we need to start looking for the ramps along our bike path as well.  They come up early and I learned the hardway that I need to mark them as soon as we see them, because as soon as the other underbrush greens up  I will never find them again!  The ramps are so yummy in this soup.  I love finding food.

Roasted Asparagus

asparagus

parmesan cheese (you don't need much, so use a good, hard variety)

balsamic vinegar

olive oil

salt / pepper

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Snip the ends off of the asparagus.  Drizzle a little olive oil on the asparagus and toss to coat.  Spread asparagus out on a cookie sheet, single layer, top with a bit of sea salt and black pepper and bake for about 10 minutes.  Remove the asparagus and put in serving dish.  Sprinkle a little balsamic vinegar over the top and use a vegetable peeler to add curls of parmesan.  This dish is delicious served warm or at room temperature and is also an easy, different dish to bring to a potluck.

Songwriter

While I was cleaning yesterday I found this song written by Jack last year.  A few times a year he'll ask me to take dictation.  Influenced by the Waldorf songbook much, ya think?

Where do all the flowers go in the wintertime
Under with their little pillows
Snuggle up in their little sheets
In the wintertime that is where they go

In the springtime they always pop
Ducks are back
Frogs are back
Everything is back
And all the grass grows green again
Snow has melted
Its time to play outside in the springtime air
Yay!!!

Happy Spring to you!

Spring Nature Table

It is so cold today that our spring table feels a bit early, but at least we don't have any snow on the ground.  Jack and I have been telling ourselves that having the table switched encourages the spring to come faster - it has been very sunny out, even if it is freezing.

Now that I'm my third year of creating nature tables, its so much easier since I already have lots of stuff on hand.  I keep most of in a drawer right below, so I don't have to search for much.  Playsilks are too precious in our house to be trapped on a table, so I usually use cheap "silky" fabric from the craft store.  It looks less shiny in person, I don't think it is meant to be flashed upon!

Do go see Catherine's nature table as well.  She has lovely ways with wool, check out the picture on the wall!  Try using google translate if you would like to read her blog. Works well enough, although it is often comical.

Spring Cleaning

We started spring cleaning today.  I've been putting off actual cleaning since January, since we at some theoretical point will have a closing date set for our new house and I figured why not just clean once at the end?  But then I got to thinking... have you ever moved and been pretty disgusted / embarrassed by what was found under your furniture.  Case in point (this was after I removed a pair of boy's underwear with a banana peel on top of them):

I can't feign complete innocence on my part, I do see a Hagen-Daz wrapper in there.  And yet somehow beneath all the mess and under the couch, I found this sweet little thing.

In between trashing the rest of the house, the munchkins were very helpful with polishing furniture, washing windows and mopping the floor.

The most bizarre episode today is that my vacuum cleaner somehow managed to suck up a whole, unblemished mechanical pencil all the way to the entrance of the vacuum bag.  And on the subject of vacuum bags, whoever decided bagless was a good idea?  I don't want to see that nastiness and sure don't want it all blowing up in my face when I bang it out over the garbage can.

The room feels so much better, all spring cleaned and empty of the sluggish winter energy.  For once I love that I can sit in it and not see a single other room in the house.  Maybe if I wish really hard I'll walk out of the room and the rest of the house will match.

I love this girl

Lucy has a wild sense of style.  Our little city has a very recognizable woman.  I've always assumed she was homeless, but don't know for sure.  I've seen her many places, often arguing with people, etc.  She wears really outrageous outfits - lots of animal prints, feathers, I think maybe those carnival roach clips in her hair.  We saw her at the library last weekend and Lucy whispered to me, "Mommy, isn't she BEAUTIFUL!"  My jeans and black tshirts must be really disappointing.

Warrior princess in tree pose.

The girl can be pretty kick ass.  She yells at neighborhood bullies if they try to mess with her brother.  She attacks that same brother even though he is double her size.  She loves so intensely that she grits her teeth when she hugs.  She sings little made up songs when she thinks no one else is listening.

And yet there is this need in her that I worry about filling.  Because, good Lord, does she ever need me.  Some phases are better than others, but I feel overwhelmed by it right now.  I weaned her last year thinking that it might help abate this some.  Nope, not so much.  I worry that somehow she knows that I didn't want to be pregnant with her and that it took weeks (months?) for me to bond with her.  I took good care of her (I take really good care of other people's babies).  I want to fill up this need I sense with great big buckets of love.