Found scrawled in crayon in our home in Ann Arbor:
Oh Aunt Lindsey, I am so tricky
told you I'd filled my dipe with sumpin' icky.
Keys in hand, heading out the door,
back upstairs for a smelly chore.
Unwrapping my bum, I broke your heart
When I giggled, "just a fart."
Soon he will be able to pee bawdy rhymes in the snow. There is no limit to a father's pride.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Economic woes hit the youngest among us
Some of you may remember this post, which showed Ellis giving instructions on how to cut up a watermelon. His Grandpa Hank says foremen are paid to walk fast and look worried and don't have to use tools. Since Ellis could barely walk, let alone walk fast, while a foreman in Germany, he compensated with exceedingly detailed instructions.
Unfortunately, with Michigan's economic woes, Ellis hasn't been able to find work and has had to accept employment as a common watermelon cutter. As many of you know, cutting watermelon is dirty and difficult work.
With more than 50 three year olds on the book down at the union hall (International Associated Brotherhood of Watermelon Harvesters and Cutters, also representing molasses workers), he expects to not see an improvement for at least a year.
Unfortunately, with Michigan's economic woes, Ellis hasn't been able to find work and has had to accept employment as a common watermelon cutter. As many of you know, cutting watermelon is dirty and difficult work.
With more than 50 three year olds on the book down at the union hall (International Associated Brotherhood of Watermelon Harvesters and Cutters, also representing molasses workers), he expects to not see an improvement for at least a year.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
No themes to be found
I don't really have much to post about that would make a nice cohesive story for you. But, lots has still been happening.
I participated in a start up weekend event where people get together and try to start a company. My group put together a pretty interesting resource and we will see if we ever find a way to make some money with it. The bottom line for the weekend though is that I met a lot of interesting people and made some good connections.
This weekend was mostly a stay at home weekend, but we did attend my friend Aaron's wedding reception. They were married on a cruise ship and had a party near their home. My buddy Aaron stayed up all night the night before to roast a pig, which was excellent, but perhaps not worth the exhaustion that must have come with it. We had a good time.
Prior to the wedding, the two batches of mead we have going required some attention. The sweet mead was racked over and already the extra oxygen has reduced the sulfury flavors. The dry mead was also racked over to a new carboy, but with the racking it got a dose of raspberry in the form of 2.5 lbs of berries, pureed and sieved. I also added a little more honey to sweeten it back a little. This stuff is on its way to being really good.
Prior to working on the mead, I put Ellis down for a nap that he clearly didn't think was needed. Rachel has recently told him that, "if the sun isn't out, it is time to sleep." or, "when the sun is out we can get up and go to school." Well, Ellis has taken this too heart. After 45 minutes in bed, I went to check on him and found him standing at the foot of his bed. Red faced and pointing at the window he began to scream defiantly, "Daddy, SUN IS OUT. Out Daddy, SUN IS OUT!"
Today we visited an indoor playground called The Tree House out in Chelsea. It was pretty cool with good coffee for the adults. Another parent commented on Ellis's fearlessness. Then we came home and all had long naps. Ellis slept for more than 4 hours before we went over to visit my boss and his wife to get some of their farm share since ours isn't doing so well. Ellis fell in love with their moderately gigantic cat named Diego. It took us a minute or two to realize that "Eego" was what Ellis was saying for "Diego". For his part, Diego was tolerant while Ellis had treats and then made himself scarce and probably tried to flush himself to safety down the toilet when Ellis ran to the steps and started screaming, "Eego, come!" If I were slightly smaller than Ellis, without opposable thumbs and little ability to reason, I know I would find him terrifying, treats or not.
I participated in a start up weekend event where people get together and try to start a company. My group put together a pretty interesting resource and we will see if we ever find a way to make some money with it. The bottom line for the weekend though is that I met a lot of interesting people and made some good connections.
This weekend was mostly a stay at home weekend, but we did attend my friend Aaron's wedding reception. They were married on a cruise ship and had a party near their home. My buddy Aaron stayed up all night the night before to roast a pig, which was excellent, but perhaps not worth the exhaustion that must have come with it. We had a good time.
Prior to the wedding, the two batches of mead we have going required some attention. The sweet mead was racked over and already the extra oxygen has reduced the sulfury flavors. The dry mead was also racked over to a new carboy, but with the racking it got a dose of raspberry in the form of 2.5 lbs of berries, pureed and sieved. I also added a little more honey to sweeten it back a little. This stuff is on its way to being really good.
Prior to working on the mead, I put Ellis down for a nap that he clearly didn't think was needed. Rachel has recently told him that, "if the sun isn't out, it is time to sleep." or, "when the sun is out we can get up and go to school." Well, Ellis has taken this too heart. After 45 minutes in bed, I went to check on him and found him standing at the foot of his bed. Red faced and pointing at the window he began to scream defiantly, "Daddy, SUN IS OUT. Out Daddy, SUN IS OUT!"
Today we visited an indoor playground called The Tree House out in Chelsea. It was pretty cool with good coffee for the adults. Another parent commented on Ellis's fearlessness. Then we came home and all had long naps. Ellis slept for more than 4 hours before we went over to visit my boss and his wife to get some of their farm share since ours isn't doing so well. Ellis fell in love with their moderately gigantic cat named Diego. It took us a minute or two to realize that "Eego" was what Ellis was saying for "Diego". For his part, Diego was tolerant while Ellis had treats and then made himself scarce and probably tried to flush himself to safety down the toilet when Ellis ran to the steps and started screaming, "Eego, come!" If I were slightly smaller than Ellis, without opposable thumbs and little ability to reason, I know I would find him terrifying, treats or not.
Friday, June 27, 2008
what could be more wholesome and natural?
I went to a little lecture on "herbal first aid kits" last night. The herbalist/instructor had a lot of good ideas but when I conveyed them to Trey, he did not share my enthusiasm. In particular, he was troubled by the simple, always available method she advocated for making poultices to treat bug bites, burns, and rashes. He declared "I am not comfortable with the primary remedy for burns being your grabbing a leaf, chewing it up, and spitting it on me." Jeez, fine.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
progress
After a bumpy start at daycare last weeek, the last few days have been a real improvement. Last week was characterized by screaming and crying at drop-off and extreme clinginess in the evenings. I think Ellis's week was made worse by tiredness, both from a weekend at Grandma's and a nap that was cut short by another kid. Following pick-up, Ellis would proceed to say "mommy" about 7,000 times, typically in jags or 50-60 "mommies" no matter how many times I said "yes? yes? yes???" or snuggled with him. Another mother at the daycare who's going through the same patch with her child told us of similar behavior. She said after extended hugging, her daughter still wasn't satisfied that they were close enough and the mother was forced to tell her that no, she could not go back inside for an extra month of gestation.
But after a fun weekend with Aunt Catherine, Ellis actually requested "sgool" yesterday morning. He grabbed his lunch box and walked happily into the building under his own power. We took off his coat and put his lunch away and he headed right off into the room to select an activity, even refusing my offer of a hug and kiss goodbye. Pick-up time is still a little rough, though, and I often find him red and puffy faced. The teachers say he gets upset each time a parent arrives and he discovers that it's not his parent. I've been trying to arrive early to mitigate this particular trauma. It's made worse, though, by the fact that he tends to refuse an afternoon snack. The kids are allowed to wake up at their pace, have a snack, and then head outside. Sounds perfectly reasonable, right? Except with some kids on their way out to the playground, the snack seems lose it's appeal. Thus, by 5:00 pick-up Ellis is completely crabby/ravenous and pigs down whatever remains of his lunch on the car trip home.
I'm feeling a lot better about the child care situation now that Ellis is going willingly and acting happy and relaxed in the evenings. But I can't help but worry that last week was more about breaking his spirit than "making a transition". We were pretty attachment parent-ish with him and I feel like we're really changing course by not only putting him in daycare, but leaving him to cry there (sure the staff is good about comforting the kids and will hold them as long as they like, but it's soo not the same as a parent). My usual standard for this is that if he's fussing because he's mad, that's ok, but if it's because he's scared, then we need to change things. This works well at bedtime: I know he's making a ruckus because he wants to play- not because he doesn't understand we're right next door. At daycare, though, I'm just not sure.
But after a fun weekend with Aunt Catherine, Ellis actually requested "sgool" yesterday morning. He grabbed his lunch box and walked happily into the building under his own power. We took off his coat and put his lunch away and he headed right off into the room to select an activity, even refusing my offer of a hug and kiss goodbye. Pick-up time is still a little rough, though, and I often find him red and puffy faced. The teachers say he gets upset each time a parent arrives and he discovers that it's not his parent. I've been trying to arrive early to mitigate this particular trauma. It's made worse, though, by the fact that he tends to refuse an afternoon snack. The kids are allowed to wake up at their pace, have a snack, and then head outside. Sounds perfectly reasonable, right? Except with some kids on their way out to the playground, the snack seems lose it's appeal. Thus, by 5:00 pick-up Ellis is completely crabby/ravenous and pigs down whatever remains of his lunch on the car trip home.
I'm feeling a lot better about the child care situation now that Ellis is going willingly and acting happy and relaxed in the evenings. But I can't help but worry that last week was more about breaking his spirit than "making a transition". We were pretty attachment parent-ish with him and I feel like we're really changing course by not only putting him in daycare, but leaving him to cry there (sure the staff is good about comforting the kids and will hold them as long as they like, but it's soo not the same as a parent). My usual standard for this is that if he's fussing because he's mad, that's ok, but if it's because he's scared, then we need to change things. This works well at bedtime: I know he's making a ruckus because he wants to play- not because he doesn't understand we're right next door. At daycare, though, I'm just not sure.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Three action shots and a story
Ellis's latest love is for what he calls a "pockle".
Grandma came over for a little birthday celebration:
Grandma brought Ellis a sandbox and water table for his birthday. The look on his face should show how much he enjoys it:
Finally, tonight I put Ellis to bed and after a half an hour or so he was still awake so I went into check on him and he was hungry and asked for a "cake". So, I heated him up a frozen pancake which he ate on my lap and when we were done he hopped back into bed, snuggled down and passed gas loudly with an added giggle.I said, "Ellis what was that?".
He laughed and replied, "Doubt!" ("Doubt" is his name for Scout. She wasn't even in the room!)
This is a critical developmental milestone: having the sense the blame your farts on the family dog.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
A fresh interpretation of an old classic
Ellis has been enjoying songs and stories with hand and finger motions. Here is his interpretation of an old classic, with subtitles in blue for those of you unfamiliar with Ellisese:
Hee-uh da dur,
Here is the church,
an eine dee-poe,
Here is the steeple
owen da doe-uh
Open the door,
an aaww da pee-ow
and see all the people
He often only wants to contribute the rhyming words at the end of each line but he usually also insists on doing the hand motions himself the second time through. When I do the hand motions, the people get tickled at the end of the story.
Hee-uh da dur,
Here is the church,
an eine dee-poe,
Here is the steeple
owen da doe-uh
Open the door,
an aaww da pee-ow
and see all the people
He often only wants to contribute the rhyming words at the end of each line but he usually also insists on doing the hand motions himself the second time through. When I do the hand motions, the people get tickled at the end of the story.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Neo-roccoco post-modern
As far as the blog renaissance, I agree with Rachel that it is about time. And, although we may not think so now, I expect we will start having time to do other things to write about in the near future. I still think that after the last 3 years we should title the blog "Have Ph.Ds, Will Travel", but it seems like we are going to be staying put for a while, so that doesn't really work. Perhaps the audience has some ideas....
It is true that Ellis had a pretty tough day today at daycare. He was upset to be dropped off but very quickly got involved in something with one of his new teachers (I couldn't see what through the window). I met a very nice African-American couple going through the same ordeal with a slightly younger daughter. This couple was extremely broken up and I wanted to offer encouragement to them, but their names were Nomika and Woody and all I could think was, "how does a 'Nomika' end up with a 'Woody'?" Rachel has trained me not to ask such questions.
At pick up time he was teary when we showed up and downright pissed with me, perhaps because I was the dropper offer that started the whole thing. He cheered up pretty quickly though. On the up side, they said he did very well during the outside time and he took a good nap. I suspect that he was teary when we got there because he had been woken up to prepare for pickup and he just wasn't ready to wake up after the long drive home last night and all the activity and new place. We both know that this is a big step and we can't expect him to love it on the first day, andI will continue to be the dropper offer for a few more days.
In some respects, none of this is very surprising since Rachel and I both hated pre-school and daycare. In my case I lasted a mere two weeks--a dropout at 3. We can all take comfort that a dropout at three recovered and managed to get a Ph.D. However, I will never recover from the injustice that drove me from the halls of Jack and Jill Nursery. It seems, that a group of boys urinated all over the walls and I was in the bathroom when it happened. I don't recall ratting them out, but I was blamed as one of the culprits and probably was too shy to explain to people running a nursery school about "circumstantial evidence" or that "correlation is not the same as causality". Those of you who know me as an adult may be surprised that my three year old self couldn't muster the courage to say, "I didn't p*ss on your god d*&n%d wall."
It is true that Ellis had a pretty tough day today at daycare. He was upset to be dropped off but very quickly got involved in something with one of his new teachers (I couldn't see what through the window). I met a very nice African-American couple going through the same ordeal with a slightly younger daughter. This couple was extremely broken up and I wanted to offer encouragement to them, but their names were Nomika and Woody and all I could think was, "how does a 'Nomika' end up with a 'Woody'?" Rachel has trained me not to ask such questions.
At pick up time he was teary when we showed up and downright pissed with me, perhaps because I was the dropper offer that started the whole thing. He cheered up pretty quickly though. On the up side, they said he did very well during the outside time and he took a good nap. I suspect that he was teary when we got there because he had been woken up to prepare for pickup and he just wasn't ready to wake up after the long drive home last night and all the activity and new place. We both know that this is a big step and we can't expect him to love it on the first day, andI will continue to be the dropper offer for a few more days.
In some respects, none of this is very surprising since Rachel and I both hated pre-school and daycare. In my case I lasted a mere two weeks--a dropout at 3. We can all take comfort that a dropout at three recovered and managed to get a Ph.D. However, I will never recover from the injustice that drove me from the halls of Jack and Jill Nursery. It seems, that a group of boys urinated all over the walls and I was in the bathroom when it happened. I don't recall ratting them out, but I was blamed as one of the culprits and probably was too shy to explain to people running a nursery school about "circumstantial evidence" or that "correlation is not the same as causality". Those of you who know me as an adult may be surprised that my three year old self couldn't muster the courage to say, "I didn't p*ss on your god d*&n%d wall."
contemplating a blogular renaissance
I really want to reformat this blog and potentially retitle it as well. We contemplating starting a new blog when we left Germany, but momentum was not on our side. Since many co-workers read here, we've also both considered starting up anonymous blogs to write about work and other unbloggable topics. We've already degenerated to almost solely Ellis pics and antecdotes so it seems like we should make it official.
In other news, Ellis had his first day at the daycare center today. He did so well at Jodie's house; we were really sad to go. So far, Ellis is not loving the new place, but it's a big adjustment. Maybe Trey will comment on this, since I've relinquished drop-off duty to him as I just don't have the heart for it.
In other news, Ellis had his first day at the daycare center today. He did so well at Jodie's house; we were really sad to go. So far, Ellis is not loving the new place, but it's a big adjustment. Maybe Trey will comment on this, since I've relinquished drop-off duty to him as I just don't have the heart for it.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
new heights in devilry
We made a quick trip down to my parent's this weekend. The drive is pretty long for just a weekend visit, but it was enlivened, as ever, by Ellis's expanding abilities. We were motoring along an Indiana state road when we suddenly heard the whishing sound that goes along with an open window in the back seat. "Crap", said Trey, "I was really hoping he wouldn't figure out the power windows for a few more months." Then he proceeded to reach over to roll up the window using the driver's control. Strange....the whishing noise did not disappear. "Oh double crap", said Trey (well, that's approximately what he uttered), "he didn't roll down the window; he opened the door!" We quickly pulled over, thanking our lucky stars this had happened on a small state road rather than the interstate. Trey hopped out and shut the door and was just sliding back into his seat when Ellis's door popped right back open! This time the door opening was accompanied by an evil sounding toddler cackle.
In the future we'll be forced to rely on our faulty memories to keep the doors locked, since our car lacks the fancy automatic back-seat locks on newer cars. That is, we're doomed to loose 50% of the stuff from the backseat of the car. So long, Matchbox cars, travel mugs, petrified raisins, and critical scraps of paper, it was nice knowing you.
In the future we'll be forced to rely on our faulty memories to keep the doors locked, since our car lacks the fancy automatic back-seat locks on newer cars. That is, we're doomed to loose 50% of the stuff from the backseat of the car. So long, Matchbox cars, travel mugs, petrified raisins, and critical scraps of paper, it was nice knowing you.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
What the hell is a Mud Hen
Well, "Mud Hen" appears to be a slur to which American Coots are known to take offense. Mud Hens are also the Tigers AAA ball club located in Toledo--a town just as close as Detroit and safer. Tonight I took Ellis and my dad to watch most of a baseball game between these Mud Hens and one of the Pittsburgh Pirates farm clubs, the Indy Indians. (Man, "Indy Indians" makes Mud Hens seem extra original.) These two teams play in the International League which includes one of America's most famous minor league teams, The Durham Bulls.
Ellis had a surprisingly good time. He generally didn't watch the game, but enjoyed the people, the hot dogs the score boards and most of all the between inning entertainment which consisted of music (hokey pokey, chicken dance etc.) and 4 men in chicken suits. As we left the park, he even got to high-five one of the chickens.
Generally, I have to say that the whole experience of going to a minor league game was pretty nice. We sat right behind first base and were close enough to the field that I was worried that a throw across from short stop that ended up in the dirt would end up hitting our tiny hero upside the head. These tickets were a only $8 and parking within spitting distance of the park was $5 to boot. Ellis got in for free and argued that the "savings" from his ticket should be put into the hot dog fund.
The quality of the baseball was pretty good, even if the Mud Hens lost. In the second inning quite a spat broke out over disputed home run down the third base line that the first base umpire ruled a foul ball, effectively calling back the home run. The third base coach for the Mud Hens ruptured, arguing, most likely, that a guy standing on the 3rd baseline (the third base umpire) probably had the best view of the where exactly the ball was in relation to the foul pole when it went over the fence. This coach would probably argue that he then got himself thrown out of the game intentionally to inspire the team with his fervor and the tenacity in the way he defended his team's interests. In this case, there is actually some evidence that he did inspire at least one player: after the called foul, Mike Hessman had to return to the plate to finish his at bat and he hit a much longer home run that was allowed to stand. Unfortunately, he said something to the first base umpire on his way around the bases and was thrown out of the game by the time he reached home plate.
Ultimately, the Mud Hens squandered a five run lead and lost by two. I doubt I would take Ellis to another game for a couple of years. He had a nice time, but not because of the game. Happily, I still had a nice time, partly because of the game but mostly just doing something with Ellis.
Ellis had a surprisingly good time. He generally didn't watch the game, but enjoyed the people, the hot dogs the score boards and most of all the between inning entertainment which consisted of music (hokey pokey, chicken dance etc.) and 4 men in chicken suits. As we left the park, he even got to high-five one of the chickens.
Generally, I have to say that the whole experience of going to a minor league game was pretty nice. We sat right behind first base and were close enough to the field that I was worried that a throw across from short stop that ended up in the dirt would end up hitting our tiny hero upside the head. These tickets were a only $8 and parking within spitting distance of the park was $5 to boot. Ellis got in for free and argued that the "savings" from his ticket should be put into the hot dog fund.
The quality of the baseball was pretty good, even if the Mud Hens lost. In the second inning quite a spat broke out over disputed home run down the third base line that the first base umpire ruled a foul ball, effectively calling back the home run. The third base coach for the Mud Hens ruptured, arguing, most likely, that a guy standing on the 3rd baseline (the third base umpire) probably had the best view of the where exactly the ball was in relation to the foul pole when it went over the fence. This coach would probably argue that he then got himself thrown out of the game intentionally to inspire the team with his fervor and the tenacity in the way he defended his team's interests. In this case, there is actually some evidence that he did inspire at least one player: after the called foul, Mike Hessman had to return to the plate to finish his at bat and he hit a much longer home run that was allowed to stand. Unfortunately, he said something to the first base umpire on his way around the bases and was thrown out of the game by the time he reached home plate.
Ultimately, the Mud Hens squandered a five run lead and lost by two. I doubt I would take Ellis to another game for a couple of years. He had a nice time, but not because of the game. Happily, I still had a nice time, partly because of the game but mostly just doing something with Ellis.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
license to throw the kid and dog outside
Shortly after moving in, we noticed that, thanks to our neighbor's adjoining fences, only about 20 feet of chain link would be necessary to completely enclose the yard. Our landlord promised to do it, but it was a low priority. Today, though, finally we have a fenced yard. It's so nice to let the dog out without wondering which of our neighbors will be calling us to let her know she's on their porch. And Ellis loves being able to come in and out at his own whims instead of ours.
I'd post a picture, but, seriously, it's a chain link fence. Even our recent dearth of posts does not justify sinking so low.
I'd post a picture, but, seriously, it's a chain link fence. Even our recent dearth of posts does not justify sinking so low.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
we're never doing this again
Last weekend we went to one of the parks in town to attempt to feed ducks. Unfortunately, if predictably, all we could find were Canada geese. Generally, I don't like to support their population explosion here in the midwest. But we had a bag of cheap hot dog buns and a toddler.
And yes, this lame post was mostly an excuse to get some new pics up. I'm hoping that if I get back in the habit of posting, sparkling prose will naturally follow. Right.
And yes, this lame post was mostly an excuse to get some new pics up. I'm hoping that if I get back in the habit of posting, sparkling prose will naturally follow. Right.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Happy Birthday
On the one hand, it is hard to believe that Ellis is two years old and on the other, I can't remember what life was like without him. After he put on such a great performance for my birthday, I suggested to Rachel that I should do the same for him. She thought seeing me clog dance might send people screaming from the blog, never to return.
Ellis is now 32 inches and just shy of 30 lbs and got a clean bill of health at his check up yesterday. His face continues to be super expressive and while he has many words we do understand, there are 10 times as many that we don't. The fact that he can now go to sleep without one of us there is wonderful and hearing him talk to himself in bed as he dozes off is terribly sweet. He still rises early and hungry, often starting the day with a banana in our bed . Recently, his favorite second course is ham and pancakes. Following his banana we have nearly the same conversation every morning:
"Ellis, do you want some ham?"
"And cakes!"
"Oh, you want some cakes?"
"And ham, tooooo!"
Usually when presented with a plate of three items, Ellis munches them down in order of preference beginning with his favorite. However, when presented with ham, cakes and a handful of fresh blueberries, he takes from all piles nearly equally, usually polishing off the blueberries first but only just before finishing the others. This combined with his enthusiasm for this meal makes me think it must be his favorite.
He, of course, is relatively unaware that today is his birthday, but has been enjoying several prezzies. In addition to his trike, he has gotten several books from his aunt Catherine and Holden and Bella got him a wooden tool kit for practicing hammering and putting bolts on nuts. Bristle blocks from Aunt Bridget have been gaining favor everyday. Finally, he's been sporting his summer wardrobe from Aunt Lindsey for a few weeks already.
For his birthday dinner we had pad thai. You might think this isn't toddler food, but it has three of his favorites: chicken, noodles and scrambled egg. For dessert, his mama made strawberry shortcakes flecked with dark chocolate. After blowing out the candles, he immediately wanted us to relight them for an encore. I would say he enjoyed the candles more than eating the cake, but he certainly had plenty.
"Um, mommy, did you notice that my dessert is on fire?"
Ellis is now 32 inches and just shy of 30 lbs and got a clean bill of health at his check up yesterday. His face continues to be super expressive and while he has many words we do understand, there are 10 times as many that we don't. The fact that he can now go to sleep without one of us there is wonderful and hearing him talk to himself in bed as he dozes off is terribly sweet. He still rises early and hungry, often starting the day with a banana in our bed . Recently, his favorite second course is ham and pancakes. Following his banana we have nearly the same conversation every morning:
"Ellis, do you want some ham?"
"And cakes!"
"Oh, you want some cakes?"
"And ham, tooooo!"
Usually when presented with a plate of three items, Ellis munches them down in order of preference beginning with his favorite. However, when presented with ham, cakes and a handful of fresh blueberries, he takes from all piles nearly equally, usually polishing off the blueberries first but only just before finishing the others. This combined with his enthusiasm for this meal makes me think it must be his favorite.
He, of course, is relatively unaware that today is his birthday, but has been enjoying several prezzies. In addition to his trike, he has gotten several books from his aunt Catherine and Holden and Bella got him a wooden tool kit for practicing hammering and putting bolts on nuts. Bristle blocks from Aunt Bridget have been gaining favor everyday. Finally, he's been sporting his summer wardrobe from Aunt Lindsey for a few weeks already.
For his birthday dinner we had pad thai. You might think this isn't toddler food, but it has three of his favorites: chicken, noodles and scrambled egg. For dessert, his mama made strawberry shortcakes flecked with dark chocolate. After blowing out the candles, he immediately wanted us to relight them for an encore. I would say he enjoyed the candles more than eating the cake, but he certainly had plenty.
"Um, mommy, did you notice that my dessert is on fire?"
"Blow like this sweetie."
"Oh, let me try."
"Oh. I got it. Again?"Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Date Code 08010531
This past weekend we launched into making mead from the honey produced by Rachel's dad at the farm.
After a visit to a new (well new to me) brewing store in Ypsi for some advice and items such as yeast and extra equipment we were ready to go. Our recipe was made with 12 lbs of honey in a total of five gallons of water. We pasteurized the whole lot at 160 F for 15 minutes and then syphoned it into a bucket. When it got to 80 degrees we pitched in EC-1118 Champagne yeast which should produce a very dry product. The starting specific gravity was 1.1 which corresponds to a potential final alcohol of 13.5% alcohol by volume. I expect something closer to 11-12%.
We covered the bucket with a nylon mesh. This is a new technique to me that relies on the efflux of carbon dioxide from the brew to create a flow that pushes unwanted microbes away. It makes it easy to get the fermentation off to a really good start because you can carefully stir the brew. After two days, we added a second round of the same yeast as insurance. Last night it was moved to a carboy and c
apped with a fermentation lock. It will remain in this carboy for about 2 weeks before another transfer. I took the opportunity to taste it during the transfer. The alcohol is already close to 4% and the floral quality of the honey comes through very well, indicating that the careful pasteurization maintained the subtle character of the honey.
Before the fermentation began, the liquid was about the color and clarity of beer. The yeast have multiplied so rapidly, that it almost looks like pure honey again due to their density.
This batch is designated 08010531 for the year (08) the batch number (01) and the date it was started (0531). Since I have invented a date code system, you might have guessed that I am hatching a plan to produce a lot of mead and beer. The mead plan is to start two more batches. One will be brewed with the same yeast giving us 10 gallons from this recipe. From 10 gallons we can expect about 50 standard wine bottles of mead. This can be split between still and sparkling or fruit mead (generally called melomel, pyment if the fruit is grapes, cyser if it is apples) depending on how it is treated in the subsequent steps. The third batch will contain less honey and I hope to use a yeast specifically for mead, for the sake of comparison. That batch will be lighter and a likely candidate for being carbonated. I am open to suggestions on fruits and sparkling vs. still, should anyone have an opinion.
Now I have to come up with 75 wine bottles. If you live close to me, please save yours. Champagne bottles might be even better.
After a visit to a new (well new to me) brewing store in Ypsi for some advice and items such as yeast and extra equipment we were ready to go. Our recipe was made with 12 lbs of honey in a total of five gallons of water. We pasteurized the whole lot at 160 F for 15 minutes and then syphoned it into a bucket. When it got to 80 degrees we pitched in EC-1118 Champagne yeast which should produce a very dry product. The starting specific gravity was 1.1 which corresponds to a potential final alcohol of 13.5% alcohol by volume. I expect something closer to 11-12%.
We covered the bucket with a nylon mesh. This is a new technique to me that relies on the efflux of carbon dioxide from the brew to create a flow that pushes unwanted microbes away. It makes it easy to get the fermentation off to a really good start because you can carefully stir the brew. After two days, we added a second round of the same yeast as insurance. Last night it was moved to a carboy and c
apped with a fermentation lock. It will remain in this carboy for about 2 weeks before another transfer. I took the opportunity to taste it during the transfer. The alcohol is already close to 4% and the floral quality of the honey comes through very well, indicating that the careful pasteurization maintained the subtle character of the honey.Before the fermentation began, the liquid was about the color and clarity of beer. The yeast have multiplied so rapidly, that it almost looks like pure honey again due to their density.
This batch is designated 08010531 for the year (08) the batch number (01) and the date it was started (0531). Since I have invented a date code system, you might have guessed that I am hatching a plan to produce a lot of mead and beer. The mead plan is to start two more batches. One will be brewed with the same yeast giving us 10 gallons from this recipe. From 10 gallons we can expect about 50 standard wine bottles of mead. This can be split between still and sparkling or fruit mead (generally called melomel, pyment if the fruit is grapes, cyser if it is apples) depending on how it is treated in the subsequent steps. The third batch will contain less honey and I hope to use a yeast specifically for mead, for the sake of comparison. That batch will be lighter and a likely candidate for being carbonated. I am open to suggestions on fruits and sparkling vs. still, should anyone have an opinion.
Now I have to come up with 75 wine bottles. If you live close to me, please save yours. Champagne bottles might be even better.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Visitors
Rachel's parents and sister Catherine came for the Memorial Day weekend. The event was memorialized with garage sales and many projects around the house. They also brought us a health supply of presents, some of which are included in the photo essay that follows:
Before they even brought in their bags, Ellis's new trike was assembled. He LOVES this thing, a lot, and like most Americans, you will note, he likes to eat something while he drives. The peddles are still a challenge for him. But, he manages to scoot around and will come out in the garage and ask me for a tool and then pretend to fix a few things before heading out for a cruise.
Mike and Lise also brought us a hammock, which we hung up on very long cables resulting in excellent rocking action. Ellis loves that hammock almost as much as the tricycle. This is perhaps the sweetest Ellis has been with me in several weeks
This is what Ellis really likes to do in the hammock: climb. When he gets both feet on the spreader, he leaps backwards for you to catch him.
Here, Ellis is lecturing his Aunt on the finer points of how to eat a strawberry.
The gift of porch furniture has been much appreciated, as it was on this night that we sat out late. It is tough to get a good photo of Rachel's dad where he looks like he does in real life, but we both agreed this was pretty close. If you look just above Mike's left elbow, you can see Ellis's feet in the air as he leaps off the spreader bar of the hammock.
To keep Ellis's socks a little cleaner, Grandma encouraged him to take them off. Then they improvised a tragic sock puppet play. Here we see the penultimate scene in which the protagonist skins the villain and feeds him to the puppeteer. Symbolic, I think so.
Before they even brought in their bags, Ellis's new trike was assembled. He LOVES this thing, a lot, and like most Americans, you will note, he likes to eat something while he drives. The peddles are still a challenge for him. But, he manages to scoot around and will come out in the garage and ask me for a tool and then pretend to fix a few things before heading out for a cruise.
Mike and Lise also brought us a hammock, which we hung up on very long cables resulting in excellent rocking action. Ellis loves that hammock almost as much as the tricycle. This is perhaps the sweetest Ellis has been with me in several weeks
This is what Ellis really likes to do in the hammock: climb. When he gets both feet on the spreader, he leaps backwards for you to catch him.
Here, Ellis is lecturing his Aunt on the finer points of how to eat a strawberry.
The gift of porch furniture has been much appreciated, as it was on this night that we sat out late. It is tough to get a good photo of Rachel's dad where he looks like he does in real life, but we both agreed this was pretty close. If you look just above Mike's left elbow, you can see Ellis's feet in the air as he leaps off the spreader bar of the hammock.
To keep Ellis's socks a little cleaner, Grandma encouraged him to take them off. Then they improvised a tragic sock puppet play. Here we see the penultimate scene in which the protagonist skins the villain and feeds him to the puppeteer. Symbolic, I think so.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Hard Economic Times
In trying economic times in the state of Michigan, some parents have discovered that by spending a little more on cheese, they can save a lot on diapers.
Actually, Ellis swiped this big hunk of cheese off of the counter this morning and we caught him a few minutes later enjoying a few big chaws.
Actually, Ellis swiped this big hunk of cheese off of the counter this morning and we caught him a few minutes later enjoying a few big chaws.
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