the sky is pink

One* clearance tee + a little ruffle = a tee with flair. *I actually purchased two clearance tees (one in my size and one in XL for extra fabric to make the ruffle). Total cost? $5. Sweet.

I must be a little sensitive today. I don't know why. Earlier the wind blew our flag buntings that hang under our front windows up in the air and I thought someone was peeking in the window. But the scare I just had now was a million times worse. I've been in Spenser's room doing the big summer-fall wardrobe switcharoo when Sawyer disappeared. It's not unusual for him to walk around the house at his free will, so I didn't pay much attention. I called his name a few times and figured he fell asleep on the sofa. I asked Spenser to find him for me while I finished folding the last of the clothes. And she said she couldn't find him. I scrambled from room to room and he was nowhere to be found. I did another quick search, checked all the doors (locked from the inside), calling his name, and still could not find him. I thought I was going to barf. My stomach was flip-flopping every which way. I almost called Joe. I almost called neighbors to organize a search (yes, I ...

We love our hens. We have all hens. No roosters in the mix. I was worried for awhile. Everyone I knew thought they were buying all girls, and ended up with as many as half roosters. But, on three separate days, we've gotten 11 eggs. And that totally confirms that our 11 chickens are all hens. Whew! We have five araucana hens. Their feathers are so unique. As unique as their eggs. Two lay blue eggs. One lays green eggs. And two lay pinkish eggs (see front left egg). They were the last of our egg-layers to start and their eggs are a little small, but we have hope to believe that their eggs will get larger. We not only enjoy eating our eggs, but baking the shells, crushing them, and feeding them back to the chickens . What pretty colors. (The blue and green eggs are slightly tinted on the inside of the shell, too.) We've enjoy fried eggs, scrambled eggs, egg drop soup, crepes, and quiche, among other things. And it's so nice to use a fresh egg, right from the hen's bott...

Oh, little man. We adore every inch of you. You are a sweet, loving, affectionate boy. You shower your mama with kisses and hugs from morning 'til night. You love to play with my hair. You always say, "Let me touch your hair." I admit that sometimes it annoys me. But I still love it that you love me so much. You are the only one who has had my undivided attention for three years. Your older siblings only had me for two (or less) years before another baby came along. You are my little sidekick. I can't leave the house for a second without you trailing me out the door. And, boy, do you love those chickens. Even though Little Birdie pecked your finger and it hurt, you still love her. My favorite recent memory of you is when you climbed into bed with me one morning while I groggily tried to catch a few more winks. You put my face in your hands and said, "I wub you, my wub. " (Which the entire world knows means, "I love you, my love.") And then you kis...

I'd like to say that I was vacationing somewhere exotic, but the truth is, I've been right here in my little town. Somewhere between six kids, eleven hens, running boys to soccer every night of the week, the beginning of karate, and being on town council , I ran out of time. And energy. And, as if I haven't been busy enough, I've been canning when I can. The day before my surgery I made another batch of pickled watermelon rinds and this week I made some triple-citrus marmalade . The marmalade was so very simple. And it's tasty, too. I don't know why I've never made it before. I am recovering nicely from my surgeries. The podiatrist released me from his care yesterday. And told me I could go running right away. But, well, I'm still under my GYN's care for another five weeks (although he said I could run within days of the surgery, I think I will call to make sure he really meant that). And, my knee is acting up. It's funny how great it felt l...

Well, I guess I'm not "back," since I technically didn't go anywhere, but I am back to my poor, neglected blog. First off, thank you for all of your kind words from September 9th . My bloggy friends are a great source of strength to me. And for that I thank you. Mason did extremely well on his surgery and is back doing all the things seven-year-old boys do. This past Tuesday, I had surgery of my own and am recovering fine. Besides cramping the first day, I've been feeling pretty good. And it's not because I'm taking drugs. Although, it certainly can't hurt, can it? And yesterday (as if one surgical procedure wasn't enough for me in one week), I had my runners toe fixed. The old toenail fell off and the new one was growing up instead of out. And it was bubbly. And I felt pressure on it. (And, good grief, it was ugly.) And all I can say is thank goodness I have my drugs with me. All is well.

It's the day I dread 364 days of the year. The day that makes my heart feel like it's in a vice. And the squeezing feeling is unbearable. And it hurts to breathe. The day that turns my stomach into one giant knot. It's the anniversary of the worst day of my life. It's the reminder of this day that made me sob on a recent five-miler in the middle of nowhere. Just me, bawling my eyes out, as I ran down the road. All alone. Without a single witness. Seven years. My sweet Kristen . Much too long .

Today is Mason's surgery . As much as I can't wait for him to hear better, I'm still apprehensive about it. (It is surgery after all.) Let's hope and pray for the best. I love this little man.

Green salsa from my heirloom Aunt Ruby's Green tomatoes. The best gazpacho ever. For real. Tomato sandwiches (with a Mr. Stripey heirloom tomato from my garden) on toasted multi-grain bread and basil mayonnaise. And salt. All tomatoes need salt. Well, except cherry tomatoes, which are best eaten fresh off the vine while still hot from the sun. And rainbow salsa, mostly from my heirloom tomatoes and a few others just thrown in. (Oh, and loaf #2 turned out much prettier.)

I finally did it. I broke down and bought the Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day book. I figured the weather was going to be getting colder (and it is) and we'd want to eat more bread (and we do). Last night was our first loaf. It may not be the prettiest. It may not be the largest. But it was the yummiest. After cutting it and giving everyone a slice, only two small end pieces remained. As Taylor left the dinner table, he snagged one of the last pieces. And then this one piece was all that was left. We all wanted it, but no one wanted to take it. Sawyer left to go to the bathroom and on his way back, he grabbed it off the cutting board and ate it. And that was that.

I've been doing a lot of eating and making lately. The sad thing is that I am not picky. I eat just about anything. There are a few things I wouldn't necessarily eat if I wasn't in a "picking" mood (i.e, radishes and celery), but I still eat them when I feel like munching on something, because any thing is better than nothing . Don't ya think? Many years ago Mom-Mom used to pickle watermelon rinds. To some that may sound strange. As strange as crackers and gravy at Thanksgiving . But it's something we grew up with. When I was pregnant with Spenser, I pickled some watermelon rinds, and my mom's sisters went crazy. No one had had them in years, as Mom-Mom got older, and it was a special treat for Thanksgiving that year. (We are actually having Mom-Mom's "birthday" party this weekend. Maybe I'll have to take a jar.) I hadn't really thought much about them until recently, when a friend on Facebook mentioned she was pickling them. Dan...