Localvor-acious

I am a locovore wannabe. I really really love the idea of only eating food that is grown locally. But the reality is that we are in Minnesota and I would weep throughout the winter, dreaming of fruit. I know that there are canning techniques I could learn, but I guess the bottom line is that I want to be a locovore and I want it to be easy. Which is not going to happen. But summer is upon us and today I had the most delicious salad with the tastiest greens and strawberries- all from our garden. I did have to wrestle the berries practically out of the beaks of a few grackles which have been picking us clean, but I did come away with a handful. And tonight when we pulled into the garage we could see the beacon-like glow of the first red raspberries. Of course, that deep red color is a beacon for me as well as for the entire local society of vermin and fowl, but I have already managed to pop a handful of ripe ones in my mouth, still warm from the sun. And right now Jon is downstairs washing and storing box #2 from the CSA we decided to join for the season. I'm proud to report that we managed to eat all of box 1 the first week AND we could identify everything that was in it. Today I had to take a guess on one of the greens- I think it was the beginning of the soon to be dreaded Swiss Chard- but this first batch looks delicious. That lunchtime salad still makes me smile- it was just so dang lively. Here's to eating local! In the summer. When it's convenient. So I'm a lackluster locovore- but tonight I am a happy one.

The Namekagon

Becky, the mom of Eli's good school pal, and I are planning to take my boys and her youngest out on the old Namekagon for a 3 night canoe trip later this summer. So I dug out our river map that I am sure is atleast 15 years old. The last time I have spent time up on the Nam must have been in the early 90's- almost 20 years ago. But looking at the names of the campsites- Whispering Pines, Norway Point, Snake River Landing, Little Yellow Banks, Sandrock Cliffs- it all comes back. I suddenly had a very vivid sensory-filled recollection of nudging a canoe up on a gravelly landing and then unbending my back and stretching into a standing position....squish squashing in my wet shoes-sand and grit invariably caught around my toes-up to the campsite to check it out. I remember the feel of crispy skin that was cooked in an aluminum canoe all day everyday on 6-9 day trips- one trip after the other all summer long. The word sunscreen had not yet been coined. It was SunTAN lotion, or even, as Amy calls it, Tanning Butter. I remember the joy of flopping out of that tin cooker and into the refreshing chilly depths of the river, and then climbing back in as we approached rapids. I remember the days it rained all day and you paddled along without rain gear because everything was already wet anyway, then it would rain all night- and the joy of finally finally getting sun at a time when you could lay out your sleeping bag, your towel, your shoes, your tent. I remember sitting on my ammo box (our inefficient, super heavy 'dry boxes') after dinner, poking at the fire with a stick while someone stirfried the brownies. I remember the brownies!! And the fruit cocktail, the spam, the salami, the alpine spaghetti, the cheese. The gloopy, sweaty, unrefrigerated cheese. I remember trying to de-greasify our hair by washing it with sand. Sand. But we thought it worked, and so it did. I remember the swimming holes and the biffies and the wobbly old picnic tables- the campsites that caught evening breezes if you positioned your tent just right, and the ones that roasted you alive in evening sun. I just wish I could remember which campsite was which....it all blends together now. But looking at that map made me realize that it doesn't go away- two decades have passed, but just reading those names made me feel it, smell it, hear it, live it, once again.

haircuts

As Jon was firing up the razor in the backyard last night I was lying back on the deck, enjoying a breather after a great summer day, but anticipating some complaining from the kids for being conned into visiting "Jon's strip down to your skivvies hair salon". Theo was first, and to my surprise stepped up to the stool and said, "Take it all off Dad! I want it short. I mean short!!" So Jon did. The kid is not bald, but looks it from 20 paces. After the cut he sidled over to me, shirtless and rubbing his fuzzy head. He looked down at me lying there on the deck and said, "Mom, I'm part fat guy (rubbing his pasta-full tummy), part buff dude (patting his 'muscles'), and part nerd (pointing to his nearly hairless head)." Then he leaned down real close and stage whispered, "And maybe a little bit handsome??" Definitely.
Pictures to follow soon!

Confidence

Theo has attempted climbing walls in the past, but has never found great success. This past weekend out at Camp St. Croix the stars aligned. He had a fabulous 'belayer' who was shouting out encouragement, he was feeling confident and secure because he is starting to own Camp St. Croix, and, most importantly, his cousin was on the rope next to him and heading for the bell at the top.
Theo on his way back down after ringing the bell!

Summer!

The forecast was for upper 80's and lots of sun today, so we put in the effort to load up the car with the canoe and head out to the St. Croix. Usually the logistics of such a trip kind of sours me before we even start, but I went in with a good attitude today. And it was so worth it. I'd do it again tomorrow if the weather was right. We put in at Osceola and within 5o yards Eli was unable to resist the pull of the river- he jumped right over the side of the canoe and into the lovely waters of the Croix. It was the perfect temperature- refreshingly cool, but not cold. The water fluctuated from ankle deep to way over their heads and they delighted in it all. They donned their PFD's as diapers (have you ever tried it? It is the best) and floated behind the canoe, hanging on to ropes. When it got too shallow they would bound behind us in wide-legged straddling lopes, diaper lifejackets slowing them down...then they would topple over a dropoff and shout with glee while they frantically groped for the trailing ropes. Jon and I tried our best to ditch them, but they were wily. Raptors were circling endlessly overhead and we even saw an airplane release a glider it had been towing. Theo had to remind me that our national bird is a bald eagle, not a 'bald-headed eagle' as I called out when one swooped by. We stopped at several sandbars and tried to catch minnows darting through the shallows. Ok, Jon did that with the boys while I laid back in the stern, trailing my hands in the cool water -thinking about how great it is to have nothing else to do all day but mosey downstream. And to think that this little paradise is less than one hour from our house. The pictures are of sandbar exploration- I like that I seem to have captured Theo walking on water.

mood swings

We were out at Camp St. Croix's 100th anniversary this past weekend. The weather was lovely, it was a joy to see my kids express some ownership of the camp now that they have a few years of daycroix under their belts, and I had belly laughs with people I hadn't seen for 15-20 years. It is amazing to me how we all remembered different little stories from those summers back in the late 80's, but as soon as someone brought an incident up, the whole story flashed back to me in total color, and I found myself bursting with laughter. I wish that more 80's-90's staff would have made appearances, but overall it was a sweet little weekend.
Of course it would not be complete for Theo unless we made a trip to the camp store. Nothing is finished for Theo unless it is capped off with a little consumer spending. He eagerly cruised the crowded displays of mugs, keychains, and t-shirts all emblazoned with the camp logo. And settled on a mood necklace. A black cord holding a silver pony whose interior is composed of that mood ring stuff. No mention of Camp St. Croix on it, but that did not sway him. He bought it and immediately begin pressing it to his skin and then reading the little label to find out what mood he was in. At first I was thinking 'waste of money!' but then realized that Theo has a lot of moods and any help I could get in reading any of them would be worth any size of investment. All day Sunday he kept getting a reading of solid blue- calm and peaceful- which was great, because it convinced him to act calm and peaceful. This morning he came downstairs, still rubbing his eyes, but with the necklace clasped in his palm, taking his first 'reading' for the day. While he stood there I popped one of our first garden strawberries in his mouth. His eyes lit up and he let out an involuntary groan of delight. Then the reading- it came out a swirl of blue, green, and pink. He did a quick consult of the label to find out what this could possibly mean. Here's our conversation:

Theo: Blue- peaceful- well, I am still feeling all sleepy and calm. Green- slightly anxious- well, I am starting to get excited about going to Grandma and Grandpa's tonight with the cousins. Pink- Love???

Me: Obvisously- that's because you love me so much.

Theo: Yeah. Hmmmm... NO! the pink is for that strawberry!!! I loved that!!! This necklace sure does work!

I felt a little shafted, but I like that Theo is under the impression that there is a tool that can explain himself to him. And to us. Because we sure have found ourselves wondering from time to time.

Beautiful

As I walked into Expo this am for my normal Friday am volunteer shift I noticed a couple of large speakers wired up and facing the flagpole field. I wondered if they had been accidentally left out from the fun run the previous evening- but no, about 5 minutes into the day Ulla began to usher Theo's class outside for the (apparently) annual all school group dance. I finished up a task I was working on, debating if I should continue to enter homework into the gradebook or go out and check it out. Then Sam A turned up late and was a little panicked that he could not find the class. I walked him out and found the flagpole field jam packed with 700 kids. They were lined up roughly by grade level, eyes eagerly on Ms. Bev Stoffels, the gym teacher (only they call it BK now for Bodily Kinistetic- this generation is so technically minded). The little kindergartners in the front were literally bouncing with excitement (yep- I'm talking about Haakon- he was adorably fired up) while in the back some of the sixth graders were striving for looks of practiced boredom. But then old Bev cranked up the volume and the Cha-Cha Slide boomed out over the kids. I didn't see a single one who could resist it. There were 700 kids- from all types of families and backgrounds and ethnicities and cultures- all grooving to the latest (probably not THE latest, because even I know about it) hip hop dance hit. From hip hop they slid into the Macarena and then finished up with a triumphant version of the great gay anthem 'YMCA'. I loved hearing all the kids belting out "Young Man!" while they swiveled their hips and got ready for the big chorus. Let it be known that the teachers were having a blast. I got teary eyed. Don't let my kids know, they'd be embarrassed. But to see the entire huge group grooving away to these songs, throwing cool to the wind in favor of just plain energetic fun, made my day.

Growing up

Theo's second front tooth has been hanging by a thread for weeks. This weekend, after fortifying himself with 253 swedish pancakes (they are thin), he stood up on his breakfast chair, grabbed the dangling tooth, and gave it a good tug. His astonishment when the tooth popped out nearly toppled him from the chair. He danced around the house tooth in hand and tongue pressed through the big opening in his mouth.
By nighttime he was a bit more reflective about the whole experience. He had tucked his tooth under his pillow and then accosted me in the hallway. "Mom. I know who the tooth fairy is." Uh-oh. "It's Milo's dad." Whew. He went on to explain the complicated logic behind his deduction. I agreed that it sure sounded like Milo's dad was indeed the fairy in question. Then he went off to find Jon. Apparently as he explained it to Jon he began to doubt his theory. Jon said that his face clouded a bit and then Theo said, "Well, actually I think there might be a tooth fairy in every family, and I'm feeling a little embarrassed right now because I think I might be talking to the one in this family...." Whereupon he took off to bed, hand reflexively darting underneath the pillow to check his stash. Jon found me and whispered that the gig was up.
But is it? Theo woke up several times that night, each time dancing into our room and stage whispering, "I can't sleep!! Do you think I should check to see if the fairy has come yet????" When morning finally arrived he bounded in and jumped onto the bed, shiny coin in hand, tongue busy working the empty spot, and a grin a mile wide.