Homeland Security

Brooks just got back from a business trip to New Jersey and we're catching up now that the kids are in bed.

"While you were gone Oliver came up to me and said, 'I know all the passwords for the television. 1969 for the year dad was born, 1974 for the year you were born and 1999 for the year you both got married [he's correct on all counts]."

"Well, why don't I change it to 2021 then?" he replies.

"Why? What's that?"

"The year we kick him out of the house."

Happy New Year

Old                                             New

Blue Subie                                                                        Red Subie           

Castle                                                                     Mad Men    

Missionary cut                                                       Bieber-do

Deep tissue            massage                                   Medical massage

Computer as TV                                                     Flat screen

Local in-laws                                                          Mongolian mission

Ambien                                                                   Melatonin

DI winter boots for boys                                        Bogs (hello warm, dry feet!)

Store-bought bread                                                Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day

Living room                                                           Living room (you can sit down now)

Two elementary schools                                        One school (added bonus: carpool!)

23 nieces & nephews                                            25 – welcome Griffin and Luke!

Soccer                                                                    Lacrosse                                                     

2011                                                                       2012

 

Fading days of fall

New do

Buy this book!

     

Dear Santa 2011

Storm Trooper Takes LA

A couple of weeks ago, a friend pointed out that I need to blog more. True. This is me backblogging to the end of November when Brooks took a business trip to LA for a video shoot. As is customary, Brahm sent him packing with a Lego figure (this time, a Storm Trooper) to document the trip. I present the following:

On the set

"Pull focus!"

You can't see him because he's behind the lens on this one.

Out on the town

Lunch break at the Griddle Cafe

Bumping into Alan Tudyk at the airport ("Wash" of Firefly fame, a favorite of Brooks and mine)

Good-bye coastline, hello inversions!

Makin' Treehugger Mama Proud

Brahm and Oliver got "Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans" in their stockings. After sampling "booger" flavor, Oliver made sounds of throwing-up while declaring how disgusting it was. Knowing my children's habits as I do, this surprises me.

"Wait a second," I say looking at Oliver. "I thought you guys liked the taste of boogers."

"Yeah," he says, "but this is artificial."

Happy Solstice

Today is the first day of winter, the day in which we have the least amount of daylight hours of the whole year (9 hours, 14 minutes and 53 seconds where I live, to be exact). We celebrated last night since winter technically arrived around 9:30 PM. Every year we get together with a couple of friends and loosely celebrate with food, a reading of the poem "The Shortest Day", then more food after that. This year I did some informal research on Solstice traditions around the world so I could embellish the celebration and up our credibility a bit.

Citrus bath for purification

Before supper, the boys and I drew a bath for them. Apparently in some Asian cultures, this time of year calls for a citrus bath that holds purification properties. Shopping for the fruit was one of the funnest parts, letting them choose among the assortment in the produce section. Pomelo, kumquat, lemon, lime, tangerine, grapefruit, orange and blood orange is what we ended up with. They set out tea lights all over the bathroom, lit them and with a handful of salt (also for purification), jumped in. This really was a beautiful sight and what was even more wonderful was how they were really into it. They wound up cutting most of the fruit in half and sampling it all. It ended when Oliver's belly button started stinging too much from the citric acid in the water.

Today is one of those days I wish I had more time to myself to finish this entry. I'd like to write about the bonfire we lit outside and the yule logs we threw on (the boys were champs and dug the pit for it in the rock hard soil) and other meaningful observations. It's already 10:30 in the morning and as soon as the boys come in from shoveling the walk (something to keep them busy while I'm writing), they'll be chomping at the bit for something fun to do. Christmas break can be a strain for all of us at times since we are not accustomed to spending hours upon hours together.

So I'll end with the poem that is read every year. Reading it is not the same as hearing the vocal rendition but for that, you'll have to show up at our house on December 21, 2012.

"The Shortest Day" by Susan Cooper

And so the Shortest Day came and the year died
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
To keep the year alive.
And when the new year's sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, revelling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us - listen!
All the long echoes, sing the same delight,
This Shortest Day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And now so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.

Fruit of the Harvest

 Lately I've been sinking into a lot of books on mythology, dreams and Jungian psychology. I would say that this photo is unrelated visual interest but, maybe it's not. I took it last week after Brooks and I pulled up the garden's tomato plants and put the beds to winter rest. This tree grows on the adjacent property (the owner has generously offered as many as I want) so we sat underneath it and gathered a few.

Here's what one book says an apple can represent: "In dreams, the apple is often seen as a symbol of wrongdoing, dating back to the the apple offered to Adam. In waking life, who, or what, has tempted you?" It hasn't showed up recently in my dreams but we've sure had our fair share of apple pie, apple crisps, apple sauce and eating them plain (fresh and baked).

Well. perhaps I have fallen into temptation of sorts since some of our harvest has come from what I like to call "orphaned" trees - trees whose fruit is falling to the ground and going to waste either because the property is abandoned or the owner is overwhelmed by sheer quantity of fruit and can't keep up. Brahm refuses to help pick if I haven't received explicit permission and Oliver will help but "only because you're forcing me to do it." Now there's an interesting psychoanalytical opportunity, eh?