Posts in Things About Me
Happy Father's Day

Erin_and_dad

To my dad...thank you for all the support and encouragement you give me.  I know you believe in me and that means everything.

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And to Fatty...Did I ever tell you this part of our story?  When we were at the Dollar that September night almost 15 years ago, you said your goal in life was to be the best father and husband you possibly could.  That was all it took.  You had me there.  And you are the best.  I am so lucky I get to spend my life with you and that our daughters have you for a father and role model.  We are blessed to have you.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Happy Father's Day to all the great dads out there!

Strawberries for Jam

Saturday morning, I went to the farmers market just to buy local strawberries for jam.  I wanted to take the girls to pick our own, but the forecast was for temperatures in the high 90's.  They would have been fine for about, oh, five minutes in that heat.  And considering the amount of jam I wanted to make, it would have been in exercise in whining (for them) and frustration (for me).  I took the easy route.

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I make freezer jam just like my mom does and like my grandma did.  (Recipe here).  It's all I have ever known, really.  As a child, I didn't realize how lucky I was.  There was never store-bought jelly in my sandwiches or on my toast.  We had a chest freezer in our garage and when the jam jar was empty, you just went and got another one.  Some years there were choices, too.  We always had strawberry and sometimes raspberry.   One year my brother asked for blueberry and my mom made it for him.  I was spoiled and I intend to do the same to my children.

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Cleaning and washing the berries was my job once I was old enough to help.  I didn't much care for it then, but now I enjoy holding the familiar paring knife in my hand and cutting the tops off of the warm berries.  My mom did the rest.  The process was always a mystery - it involved sugar and sure-jell, but beyond that I didn't pay much attention.  Now I do, though.  Freezer jam is one of the easiest things I make.  The process is just as familiar to me as making chocolate chip cookies.  I have established a good rhythm, working on multiple batches at a time.  It takes a few hours, but in the end I have jam to last us the entire year.

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Saturday afternoon as I sliced and mashed berries, stirring in sugar, I thought about my mom and my grandma.  I remembered being at my grandparents' farm, getting up in the morning and walking out the door to pick berries for my breakfast.  And then returning a bit later to get some more.  I remembered how much my mom hated to pick berries when she was younger, so my grandma told her if she didn't want to pick, she would have to cook.  So she cooked and my grandma picked instead.  I thought of my mom's old kitchen, the counters splashed with sugar and lined with jars, the smell of berries everywhere.  And I remembered the jam - all those jars, stacked in our freezer, labeled in my mom's handwriting.  The taste!  How nothing will ever bring me right back to my childhood as quickly as homegrown berries and strawberry jam.  And then I wondered what my girls will remember.  What thing will take them back in time?

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My secret wish?  I hope it's jam.

Lost in Transition

We're home.  And I am worn out.  I think it is that way every time we go somewhere.  As much as I like getting away, I love coming home and as much as I needed some time to relax, I seem to need it even more when we are back.

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I was up early this morning and did the things I normally do when I return from a trip.  I went through the mail, cleaned the cat box, dead-headed the flowers and watered them too.  A quick survey of the refrigerator and a half gallon of spoiled milk down the drain prompted a trip to the farmers' market.  Fatty made a run to the grocery store this afternoon.  The basics are covered.

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I have a mental list of all the not so basic things that need doing.  And it is long.  The girls are out of school and that adds a whole other dimension to my time management skills.  Or really, lack there of.  So I guess I am saying, bear with me.  Posting is probably going to be spotty for awhile.  I need to find my summer rhythm.

I've got a few things I want to post about and am going to spread those bits out over the next week.  When I am not here, I'll be over on Flickr.  See you soon.

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Happy Birthday to me!

I found this polaroid at my parents' house last month.  It was my fifth birthday - I know because there was another picture with the cake and candles.  I'm at my grandparents' house - the one at their dairy farm, not the newer one up the road.  I remembered the chairs when I saw the picture.  My brother Ryan and I used to have milk drinking races with our uncles - we always had milk straight from the barn in those small blue plastic cups.  At the time, I didn't know it, but I was learning important life skills for college survival:  I can chug.  And speaking of beer, someone was having one here - my dad or grandpa, probably.  I'm guessing it was Miller High Life.  I don't remember a time in my life when I didn't have bangs, but, apparently there was a time.  I'm pretty sure that I got a small treasure chest (out of a cereal box,no doubt) full of pirate's booty, including a genuine plastic pearl,on this birthday.   Ryan promptly took the pearl and stuck it up hisnose.  32 years later, I still hold it against him.  My mom was always good about getting me redheaded dolls and our cakes always had lots of roses on them.  In our family, if you talk while you are eating your first piece of birthday cake, you have to finish it under the table.  That's a big piece for a five year old!  But I didn't talk - I know that.  I've only done that once and I was twenty-five and out at a nice restaurant with my parents'.  They still made me go under the table.

I wonder what I will remember when I look back on thirty-seven.  Good things, I hope.  That I ate the cake Fatty's making me while sitting at the table and not under it would be a start.  Fingers crossed and lips sealed.

Surprises

Today I am working on my wordplay project - due tomorrow, of course.  I swear, I think I will never learn.  To add a little excitement to the last-minuteness of all this, I found out last night that my kids are out of school at noon today.  What?  I didn't see that coming.  A big thanks to my sister-in-law who is stepping in to watch the little ladies so I can actually get my hair cut.

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And the black ink surprised even me.  But, if it works out like I have it in my head, I think it will be good.   Fingers crossed.

I've been thinking.

I have what seems like a gazillion things I want to do, but I can't seem to do any of it.  My brain seems to be working on overload.  So here's some things that I've been thinking about in the last twenty-four hours:

Molly's strawberry cup.

This quilt top by Amanda Jean.  This one, too.

Kids growing up.  Nothing says it better than this post.

How lucky I am to be a mom, even when it is less than perfect.  Thanks for reminding me, Kirsten.

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And how lucky I am to have my mom.  Those are her hands supporting me.  They still do.

Happy Mother's Day and Happy Weekend.

I smiling and it feels good

Despite being woken up about 15 minutes late, and having one crabby child who apparently did not sleep enough, I am all smiles this morning.  This is what is doing it for me:

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I sewed this little number up yesterday.  I'll give you a full reveal after I get Kate to model.

I went on a three mile run, that turned into a two and a half mile jog.  But it felt great to move and while my calf is a bit tight, it didn't hurt.  Hooray!

I'm only wearing the wrist brace at night and for short periods during the day.  It's not completely better, but it is progress.

Melissa is rocking the knits.  And Martha is sewing a garment a day.  Seriously good stuff by both of these ladies.

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I'm going to jump in, too.  While a garment a day is completely unrealistic, making a dress should be doable.

What are your crafty plans this week?