Floating


I woke up Saturday determined to go to the Yuba.  There's nothing like that water- fresh from the mountains, baked on the hot rocks all day 'till there's a softness to it, a sandy beach with a mini Pekoe salmon nuzzling up like puppies,  their sides glinting mint, watermelon & fool's gold.  Unfortunately the air quality in Northern California is pretty much dangerous, so we headed Southwest, to Sausalito.  And here we discovered a colony of 400 floating homes, filled with folks living a bouyant daily dream...




All the neighbors take care of eachother's "gardens." This is the opposite of "When we get our farm...," & yet, it seems that it would be incredibly fulfilling, an ideal life for an artist, a f way to stay connected to both source & community, a nice way to simplify.  I just know I wouldn't sleep at night with all that water around my boys; different from the Lake, where they have woods to play in, to get out all their stuff...But logged into the databanks, another possible life adventure.

Gluten Free French Bread Pudding


We tend to abstain from gluten fairly regularly around here.  We don't need to, although it does turn my prince charming into a major grump & he's incredibly disciplined at staying great.  Every once in awhile I do throw a giant fit about it, I have to admit, like when I'm making gluten-free gnocci & instead of slicing lovely long rolls into fluffy marshmallow-like pillows to be steamed I'm trying to drop gobs of ultra sticky paste into splashing, boiling water.   It's not an easy lifestyle, but it's not a suffering one.  I'm so laid-back, though, that I'm prone to rant & rave for a half-hour several times a month from the built-up pressure of my own home-economics ambitions.  He rides through all of it with me, however.  And it probably has something to do with the fact that I make gluten-free gnocci & what-not.  So here's a breakfast bread pudding.  Make sure you use organic ingredients.  And yes, it is as moist & chewy & buttery & crusty as it looks.   Congratulations in advance.   

-15 slices of Food for Life's Rice Pecan bread ripped into little cubish thingy's.
-4 eggs, a splash of vanilla, lotsa cinnamon, 3 T. melted butter,  1/2 C raisins, 3 Cups of milk (we use soy or almond), beat well.
-Butter a 9x9" baking dish, add bread.  Pour over mixture & bake at 350', for 40 minutes.


For language arts this week we built a "G"rass "I"ce Cream "H"ut out of cardboard.  It has an ice cream menu, a sliding door to retrieve the treats, little paper muffin liners as cones & an extremely cute staff.  Of course this meant making real ice cream to build on the theme, & then, lemonade popsicles.  From my mom's garden...


H is also for "H"arvesting.  These are from Love's wonderful birthday garden he planted in October.  He's such a green thumb.  How cute are these little guys?

7/4 Celebrating Interdependence

What does the iconic American holiday look like in our world?  Well, since Tonka's terrified of fireworks, it looked like a giant bubble bath  with our Ipod & Mac Hi-Fi blaring all the good stuff: Huey Lewis, Blondie, (happy) Depeche Mode, Hall & Oats.  I'm undecided with the fireworks themselves - I always grew up celebrating the Fourth with our huge family & I'm a very American mix myself- Pilipino, Slavic, Spanish, Chinese, Basque, it goes on- with old San Francisco ex-hippies who baptised us with the dew from morning leaves.  AND... we're peace activists!  So how do I ooh & aah about a war reenactment knowing I've never myself experienced a direct attack, while I've many, many dear friends who've lost & themselves downed mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, children, cousins.  We have such a privilege to take these things lightly in the States.  Let me now mention that all my godchildren are Airforce brats, my beloved Lolo (grandpa) was a Silver Star & Purple Heart recipient who was recommended for the Congressional Medal of Honor & I have a deep, ridiculous crush on Lera's very military, Bush-loving family of six yet somehow-still-sewing blog.  I actually think I check it twice a day for updates.  She's opened my mind, I tell ya.  Not to mention provided loads of inspiration & smiles.  I'm just saying - I'm undecided.  Adding to that, we usually celebrate in the most applepie way of all:  6 island families in their motor boats following eachother to Meredith Bay to float under the fireworks on Lake Winnipesaukee after a gorgeous dock barbeque.  


In any case I've much to rejoice about.  My gorgeous husband, very Aloha toddler, my bittiest in his blue tabou - a plaid headscarf handwoven by the indigenous Muslim tribes of Mindanao where my mom's side is from.


The beach in San Francisco is truly such a gateway.  A reminder of roots & possibilities.


Giant pelicans demonstrating the ultimate freedom.


The gift of grandparents & grandkids.  I really believe that deep roots create stable trees.  So we throw them whatever we can - family, declared family, precious memories, warmth.   Even a biting cold beach is all sweetness & warmth when that orange hits our faces.


The strongest anchors come as they cultivate their own relationships with earth, with spirit, & with eachother.


The ultimate reminder of how we're here - sun, spirit, earth.


We always felt like Love was such a buddha-baby.  I asked if I could capture that sun on his face & here's his response before running along the "river."  Imagine how grounding this sweet  boy is for us.


Being urban means coming from community & diversity.  So what better way to celebrate our independence - our freedom to choose -  than to acknowledge & act from our true state of interdependence.  Our wonderful, wonderful friend Ross who invented the Xtracycle pointed that out this morning.  Our holiday looked like just that...

Fractions

I've always had a Japanese aesthetic.  Maybe 'cause I was conceived in at the Miyako.  Or since I went to Nihonmachi Little Friends preschool.  Or the Japanese elementary school.  I'm not Japanese, but obviously, it runs deep.  Like the amazing quilt my mom-in-love made.  It's actually kinda New England on an antique dresser from their family.  In my hands, however...very kawaii.

Trees at the zoo? Kawaii Nei!  It's all in the repetition, the balance of soft & bold colors, the presence of natural, earth-based order.  And, uh, I'm not a math person.  I missed one week in 3rd grade being sick at home & missed my times-tables. It's been a bit of a rough road ever since.  (It hasn't impacted my entrepreneurial savvy, mind you.  Just my ever important momentary self confidence when the group check appears.) 
And so how extremely pleased am I with Love's fractions & patterns exercise here?  He invented it himself & had me join in with gigantic, papertowel-sized chalk.  A suspicious purchase to be sure, but he promised me they'd use them.   It runs the length of this wall & contains very specific, very detailed, most importantly very cute math visuals.  Kawaii, indeed.

And Who's This?

It's amazing to me how our little ones have these angelic, distinct faces & yet we have no idea what they're going to look like later.  They change so much everyday.  And then you look back at old babyphotos & there they are, exactly themselves already, right from the beginning!  I've so been adoring our littlest, with him nearly every second of the last five months.  And then I see this picture - Who's That???? Well, it's him, like I've never noticed, & somehow, more himself than I've ever noticed.  A face & a presence to match that strong, strong, strong voice he came in with.  This was taken right before he inchwormed up, over the boppy to eat the metal strip between my rug & bathroom floor.  His brothers were, naturally, so very proud of their boy.


A Day's Work


3 Things I Adore:

1. Love's natural motivation to do handwork.  Here he's tracing a drawing for his embroidery hoop.

2. My boys in the kitchen.  They can cut some serious celery.  

3. This crazy fish tank shot by Pond.  Look at the colors! The textures! 
Thanks for indulging me.  Have an amazing weekend!

Candy for Woolies

Everything's a vote in our universe.  And so whenever there's a chance to meet a vendor of something we already use, we jump at it...  
We almost missed the Yolo County Wool Mill, because it looked like a tiny red barn & a couple of sheds.
But we could see bits of red & green wool clinging to the mess of nettles.


Thank goodness we took a chance, because it was such a treat.  Like...see???This is Native wool from Churro sheep.  It's not really considered a soft wool, but after it gets washed in the above machines (so it doesn't make all their machinery sticky),

Spends some time drying,

Takes a ride through an antique picker to remove the burs & what not,Zips through the grand, grand, grand mare of drum rollers (at least 20 feet long, with dozens of different-textured drums), It goes into delicious old red 4 foot high , can filled with spirals of billowy, fluffy warm goodness.  Imagine!  I told Bear that I wanted a can for our 10 year anniversary please. Imagine!The colors, the textures!!! This is one of only 5 small lot wool mills in the country, where you can bring in your wool & they'll process it for you in to batting, sliver, roving or yarn.


Jane, the owner was a complete princess.  I probably shouldn't mention it, but she gave me one of these gorgeous spindles when she saw how ga-ga I got over them, taking photo after photo of them through yucky plastic bags.  They don't make them anymore- all hof her machines are at least 50 years old.




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