A Root Beer Test

It somehow came to me last week when I was at the grocery store with the three younger children that we should find some different kinds of root beer and do a taste test. I got three "fancy" brands of root beer and we did the taste test on Sunday as part of our birthday celebration for our new teenager. 

The contenders.

I was just going to have everyone try them to see which they liked best. But, my family being what it is, we ended up having this whole big thing with everyone taking notes and expounding upon foam and "root notes" and I don't know what all. It was pretty funny.

We did the tasting without them knowing which was which, as is proper, so then they all guessed which number corresponded with each brand. No one got any of them right, which was interesting, but all of them liked IBC the best. That's handy, since that's one of the brands available at the tiny store in the village.

It was fun, and everyone else is already planning what we can taste-test on their birthdays. Any suggestions?

The Tea Party Hostess

One of the many surprising things about my life is that I host tea parties. Tea parties were not something I grew up with. I don't even remember drinking tea as a kid. I do remember going maybe once to one of those tea rooms, the fancy restaurants that serve tea and tea foods. But it wasn't anything close to normal thing.

My first experience with tea as an event came at Blackrock, with its wealth of china for every occasion, and the MiL, the baker extraordinare. The older boys looooved tea parties as little ones. They had their personal tea cups and even their own little creamers. The MiL would sometimes bake scones for them, or I would just make them little plates of crackers and cheese or whatever. It was very low-key and thus, much more frequent than something very fancy would be.

However, boys are not likely to have tea parties to host their friends. They still love the food that comes along with a tea party, but the delicate china and elegant table? Not so much.

But now I have a girl! And she has girl friends! And they reeeeally love the delicate china, elegant table, and the chance to dress up.

Although I used to have tea parties without the nice china, I now have the delicate china thanks to my sister. She has the entire set of my maternal grandmother's lovely set of wedding china. My sister never used the tea cups and saucers, so she asked me if I would like them. Indeed I would. 

Waiting for a tea party.

That is why I am able to host a fancy tea for little and big girls alike. As I did yesterday in honor of the MiL's visit. I invited Poppy's best friend, her older sister, and her mother, who is also my friend. 

I always bake at least one thing fresh for a tea party. This time it was just biscuits. I had made strawberry jam earlier in the day, and I also set out plum butter my sister had made, and apple butter some little girls at school had made and given me. In addition, I made cucumber and cream cheese tea sandwiches (meaning they were cut very small and had the crusts removed), some pumpkin bread I had had in the freezer, peanut butter cookies from the cookie jar, and cheese and crackers. The tea was decaffeinated black tea and an herb tea.

Our guests brought with them a big bunch of wildflowers from around their house, which went right in the middle of the table. All the foods went on small plates to be arranged around the table, I set out the tea with the cream and sugar, and it really was quite a lovely table.

Tea for six.

Our guests always arrive in tea party apparel--dresses and sometimes hats--and I put on tea party music. The MiL, who is a classical music aficionado, suggested Mozart. The perfect atmosphere for elegance.

There were also four boys--the brother of the girls came to hang out with my boys--and A. roaming around the house. We've done this a few times now, so I know better than to invite the boys to join us. After we've had our tea party, they get paper plates and can fill them from the food left on the table. I make enough to ensure they get plenty, and then they can take it outside and have a nice, masculine time chowing down without worrying about being polite. A. does get invited to the table after we've mostly finished eating, so he can have his tea and finish off whatever food is still there.

I don't know when Poppy will age out of tea parties, but I'm enjoying it for now. And so is she.

A Very Vegetal Mother's Day

I had many surprises on Mother's Day. The first was actually the day before Mother's Day. A. had brought most of the children to fish at a lake about an hour away. As they were driving through town to the lake, they came upon a small backyard plant nursery and, of course, stopped in. 

So when they got home, I was brought outside to see the "magnificent Mother's Day present" they had bought me.

Behold, the Pink Peace rose bathed in celestial glory.

A. was very excited by this rose because he had just the day before created a new garden bed outside our front door. Knowing we have a lot of bulbs that need to be separated and re-planted in the fall, I chose a spot for a new bed and A. outlined it with rock, dug it all out, and added many wheelbarrow-loads of manure from the horse pen.

The new garden bed is flanked by two posts, so A. wanted to get a wisteria--a climbing vine--for one post and a climbing rose for the other. This is why he considered it divine intervention that the very day after he had made this flower bed for which we had no flowers, he literally just happened upon a nursery that had a giant climbing rose for sale.

Coming soon to the other post: wisteria.

It was very appropriate that A. should bring me home a giant live plant rather than a dozen roses from a store or something. He knows me well. As does the son who brought these flowers home for me.

It's wildflower season, hooray.

And the daughter who made me this:

Also salad season, more hooray.

Poppy always (since last year) has made me what she calls my "summer salad." She forages in the garden for the ingredients, then makes ranch dressing for it. Last year's first attempt at making the dressing--which must be done in secret, so she's totally on her own--was pretty good, although she forgot the garlic powder and mayonnaise. This year she remembered all of that, and then she found lettuce, asparagus, a radish, and some green onion in the garden. She also added some grape tomatoes that were not from the garden.

This was my morning salad. I got another one in the afternoon, along with other gifts. The younger children got all whispery and secretive, insisting that I not come in the kitchen, so I knew something was up. After a few minutes, they called me in to this:

A Mother's Day table.

Another salad contributed by Poppy, who also made that drawing, plus a little bowl made by the youngest boy--that's the little object above the salad--and a frame of flowers courtesy of the older boy. I was very touched.

I was also impressed by Poppy's drawing after she showed me its secret.

Backlighting reveals hidden hearts.

I'm not sure how she discovered that trick, but I thought it was pretty cool.

I was also the recipient of a motivational bracelet that was given to the middle son during basketball last year. I guess he figured I could use the motivation more than him now.

A good reminder.

The best part of this day was that my family knows what I like--plants and salad, obviously--and gave it to me. Feeling seen and known is an important part of feeling loved, and that is exactly what they did.

The Countdown Begins

Many years ago--seven years ago, to be precise--I came up with the idea of counting down to the last day of school with a piece of candy for each child each day as they get on the bus. It was an idea born of desperation to get small children on the bus with a minimum of drama.

I started this tradition when I only had two children in school. We were living in New York at the time, which has school until agonizingly late in the month of June. Now we live in New Mexico where we get out of school in mid-May, and I have four children getting on the bus every day. None of them are very small anymore, either.

But still, every year when we have twelve days left of school, the egg cartons come out and the candy goes in.

Ready for the countdown. 

Come on, summer. 

Easter Photos

Poppy found an intact bird's nest on the ground outside, made an origami bird for it, created a tree for the nest and bird, and left it by the front door.

It seemed a suitably Easter-y decoration, so I didn't move it.

There's always an Easter egg hunt at school the Wednesday before Easter. The high schoolers hide the eggs for the elementary kids to find. This year, there was terrible wind, so all the eggs had to be secured into something so they didn't blow away.

Egg in a bush.

It was also very windy on Holy Thursday when we went to Mass at the other church we sometimes go to, in the village ten miles in the opposite direction. A cat had sheltered itself from the wind in the window well at the end of our pew, and it stayed there the whole time.

Holy cat.

On Easter morning, I had to leave before seven to open up the church and make sure everything was ready, which meant we were not doing any egg finding or baskets before church. My parents had sent Easter cards to all the kids, so I put those at their places at the table, along with my grandmother's tea cups containing Cadbury mini eggs.

Because chocolate for breakfast is an Easter tradition.

Then there was church.

Easter altar.

Then our egg hunt at home. I didn't get a photo of the dyed eggs this year, but we dyed them with paprika, curry powder, and pickled beet juice, and they came out well. Also, the weather had improved, so we could have the egg hunt outside, which is always better.

Next, baskets hidden inside the house.

The only thing I actually bought for these were the books*. My sister and mom provided everything else. Hooray for family.

The weather was nice enough that the children played outside all day, which was really nice. 

We had our Easter dinner around 5:30 p.m. My sister was here, and our priest joined us, so we had a full table for the ham, etc. 

The MiL had sent a box of treats, so I used my grandmother's tea cups again to set out a selection of chocolates to supplement the strawberry-rhubarb pie I had made.

Peeps donated by the guy who runs the tiny store in the village. Alcohol donated by my sister. I did actually buy champagne myself, but it was in the refrigerator.

A good Easter. How was yours?

* This year's books were Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's Farm, The Dog Who Wouldn't Be, Mr. Midshipman Hornblower, and Primitive Wilderness Living and Survival Skills: Naked Into the Wilderness.

Happy Fat Tuesday!

I have mentioned before--maaaaany times--that my mother is from New Orleans. Because of that, certain traditions from that city have always been a part of my life. Mostly food, since that is a big part of the culture of New Orleans.

Pork, greens, black-eyed peas for our health, wealth, and happiness on New Year's Day. Red beans and rice. Grillades and grits. King cake for Mardi Gras. 

This year's king cake, sent by my mother from Haydel's bakery and eaten by us for Sunday dessert. Warmed up with butter, of course.

And now, jambalaya, biscuits, and pecan pie for Fat Tuesday.

This was not something my mother made when I was growing up that I remember. Not on Fat Tuesday, at least. The jambalaya was something I made for the very first time last year, just because A. was remembering Popeye's jambalaya so fondly, and I was sure I would be able to make something at least as good.

This year, I'm adding the biscuits (these butter-swim biscuits) because they were very much like the greasy Popeye's biscuits that A. also loved. And the pecan pie because I now have a really good recipe for it that everyone in the family likes (except I use dark maple syrup instead of golden syrup.)

So I guess I've come up with my own tradition for Fat Tuesday. It's funny to think that these are the things my children will carry forward into their own lives--or not, we'll see--and consider just family tradition because it's what they remember from their childhoods. 

I have become the tradition maker instead of the recipient. An inevitable generational shift, I suppose.

So tell me: What family traditions have you inherited or started yourself?

P.S. I used this as our wake-up song this morning. After it was over, one boy announced, "I like that song. It has lots of food in it." Indeed.

The Annual Tree Excursion

If you've been reading here for some years, you'll know that we always go cut our Christmas tree at a ranch about twenty miles away managed by a friend of ours. When we cut it depends on when we have the time and the weather cooperates.

This year, that day was Sunday. It was a beautiful day, about 55 degrees with that crazy-strong New Mexico sun.

Which is why I was of course wearing my crazy New Mexico sun hat.

This year we went in the same way and parked in the same spot, but we decided to go a little bit to the right of the track to get down into the draw. As soon as we started walking that way, I saw a tree.

Looks like a Christmas tree to me.

It was pretty funny that this perfect tree was right there these past few years when we've been hiking around looking for one. I mean, it was literally about thirty feet from the van.

I'm standing next to the tree here, and there's Adventure Van, patiently waiting to take us home.

Of course, the purpose of the tree expedition is not just to get the tree, so we didn't just cut it down and go home. A tree expedition that lasts for five minutes isn't much of an expedition at all. We had to go down to the dirt tank to play.

All the rain we got in the summer and fall filled it up nicely.

After spending some time chunking rocks into the water and running around the hills surrounding the tank, we walked back to the tree and cut it down.

A. had some help this year from one boy who wanted to be sure he was the one sawing when the tree fell, so he could yell "Timber!"

Then home to prop the tree in the metal bucket with rocks, bear it into the house, and decorate it.

Ta da!

I moved the nativity scene under the tree. This prompted the children to inform me that the little star that came with the set wasn't necessary anymore, since the scene was now under the big star on the tree.

No star to be seen.

The star is now with the Three Kings on the bookcase. They will be allowed to join the celebration on Epiphany (January 6).

This year's tree is one of the best we've found since moving here. And the adventure of getting it is always the best part.

Always Thankful

I used to always post a photo of my children on Thanksgiving Day, because they are always what I'm most thankful for.

I don't post photos of them anymore, or even write about them directly. That is because most of them asked me not to. But that doesn't mean I'm not thankful for them. I am. Always. I just have to post different photos now.

This sunrise from yesterday is a good one. I am also thankful for the New Mexico sky.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you. I hope your day is filled with whatever makes you thankful.

Girls' Day Out

I mentioned already that the eldest son, Poppy, and I stayed in a hotel near the Albuquerque airport on Wednesday night. There was no reason for Poppy to come except that she doesn't like it when I go anywhere without her, especially overnight. And she does like to travel. 

I knew she was coming with us, so I purposely chose a hotel that had an indoor pool. That and proximity to the airport were pretty much the only criteria for my selection.

Of course we went swimming the night we arrived at the hotel.

I definitely did not choose to have a "pool view" room. Why on earth would anyone want to overlook--and overhear--an echoey pool?

I did not actually swim this night, to be honest. I'm not much of a water person, and the idea of having to take a shower before bed was unappealing. So I just sat there on a deck chair and monitored the fun.

Mom the lifeguard.

I had warned Poppy that coming with us would mean getting up very early and sitting at the airport for awhile, and that part would not be fun. She accepted this and was in fact very patient with our 5 a.m. wake-up and two hours checking in, going through security, and sitting at the gate until the plane left.

We left Poppy's stuffed dog, Jillian, to guard the hotel room while we were gone. She takes her job very seriously.

It's been several years since I've had the opportunity to watch a plane actually pull away from the gate, since the days of going to the gate to say good-bye or meet arrivals is now over.

But after that, it was Fun Girl Time!

The first thing we did when we got back to the hotel around 8 a.m. was eat breakfast. It was one of those buffets featuring many bread products and cereals, but this one thankfully also had scrambled eggs and ham, plus one of those ubiquitous waffle makers that you fill with the tiny cups of batter and flip over.

Poppy had a bowl of Froot Loops, some scrambled eggs and ham, a waffle, and some apple juice. This is the most I have ever seen her eat at breakfast.

After that, it was back to the pool. I do not think this pool room was heated. The water was actually steaming when we got there, even though it wasn't particularly warm water. Thankfully, there was also a functioning hot tub.

Poppy got in the hot tub first. 

This thing had some seriously intense bubbles. A bit too aggressive for me.

I got in the pool first, knowing that once I got in the hot water, I was never going to bring myself to get back in the cold pool. We spent a little bit of time working on Poppy's dog paddling and water treading before I declared myself done with the chill and gratefully switched to the hot tub. The pool had a shallow part that Poppy could stay in to play around, and I was only about two feet away in the hot tub, so I could keep an eye on her.

I did get tired of even the hot tub before she was ready to go, so I sat on a deck chair--covered in two towels because it was freezing in there after I had gotten wet--while she played happily in the hot tub.

I did have to eventually cut her fun short, however, as we had a long drive and a stop for groceries ahead of us.

After going back to the room to shower and change, we stopped by the breakfast buffet one more time as they were packing it up so I could get another cup of coffee and Poppy could get a bagel with cream cheese. 

We took these in the car with us. As we were leaving Albuquerque and she was munching her bagel, "Eye of the Tiger" came on the radio. Poppy exclaimed, "Hey, this is 'Eye of the Tiger'! I love this song!"

Then she said, "This is so great, Mom."

I asked her if she meant the song or her bagel.

"Both. I love music and I love bagels."

So easy to please, this girl.

After she finished eating, she settled herself with Charlotte's Web. Before she started reading, though, she said casually, "If you see a spa, you should stop. Since we don't have any brothers with us."

I was kind of surprised by this and asked her what we would do at a spa, wondering how she knew about spas at all. They're not places I frequent.

"Pedicures and stuff."

Oh, right. I forgot about that Fancy Nancy book. Obviously, she didn't.

In the end, we did not stop at a spa, instead stopping at Walmart to buy groceries on our way home. 

So maybe it wasn't a typical girls' day out, but Poppy sure enjoyed herself. And so did I.

Happy Halloween

A rare Thursday post mostly to show you A.'s pride and joy:

A. calls it The Plumpkin.

This came from some random seeds of a squash that hybridized. Quite obviously one of the parents was the Atlantic Giant A. grew a couple of years ago, because it got bigger than any pumpkin we've ever had. A. was very excited about it, and decided he just had to make it into a jack -o'-lantern to put by our front gate. So he did.

My contribution to the Halloween decorations was on the table, of course.

Orange zinnias, cosmos, and calendulas, plus some buffalo gourds.

A seasonally appropriate breakfast table.

We will of course be trick-or-treating in the village this evening. This year, we'll have an Arab, Jim Corbett, a lumberjack, and a ballerina. My most important job for the costuming is doing a proper ballerina bun for Poppy. It involves rolling her very long hair around a sock, and it's harder than it seems.

Wish me luck, and happy Halloween! Are you doing anything fun?

Halloween Spirit

My sister just left yesterday after her annual trip to see us for Poppy's birthday. It's a very convenient time for her to come, because it's just before Halloween, and my sister loves Halloween.

She always brings some decorations with her and helps the children put them up.

These lights are little bats and ghosts.

Ghost light close-up.

She also always helps them with their costumes.

I am not a good costume person, so her help is much appreciated. This year, she helped one son sew a robe so he can be an Arab.

It turned out very well, especially considering he started with just a torn sheet. Still to come: A traditional sword (made from cardboard, thankfully).

I appreciate the spirit she brings to the house for Halloween because, while I have many good qualities, I cannot count enthusiasm for decorations and costumes among them.

How about you? Are you a decorating-for-holidays sort of person, or nah?

Snapshots: Colorado, Of Course

Let's view some photos from our trip to Colorado, shall we?

The nicest rest stop I've ever seen, somewhere past Pueblo but before Colorado Springs.

There were lots of paths, which were perfect for having the children run laps after they ate their lunch.

We were well past Denver and into the mountains when I saw a bunch of cars on the side of the road, but not at a trailhead or anything. I've spent enough time driving in wilderness areas to know this usually means some sort of exotic animal is within sight. Sure enough . . .

MOOSE!

I had not seen a moose since I lived in Alaska as a kid, and no one else in the family had ever seen one, so this was very exciting. It could not have cared less about the twenty or so people watching it. Thankfully.

The house my parents rented was huge. They wanted something that would sleep all 14 of us in a bed, and that meant this giant three-story house with six bedrooms.

The living room was something else.

It was perched at the very top of a hill and had some great views.

It also seemed to be a regular traffic stop for both moose, which we saw several times, once right in the garden twenty feet from the porch, and bears. The bears came every night and knocked over the very heavy dumpster, scattering trash all over. That got old. You'd think a rental house in bear country would have a better-secured dumpster.

Anyway.

One day my parents rented a pontoon boat so we could tour the lake.

Despite the name, Grand Lake is actually quite small.

Spectacular views of Rocky Mountain National Park, though.

Although A. went fishing a couple of times, he didn't have any luck. The children enjoyed swimming in the lake, though, even though it was really cold.

I stayed firmly on shore, thank you very much. Way too cold for me.

And of course, the reason we were there . . .

Happy Fiftieth, Mom and Dad!

There you have it! My (traveling) life, snapshotted.