A Handmade Birthday Gift

Today is my Mama's birthday. I must confess, I've always been a Mama's girl. In fact, my mom and I have always had one of those Gilmore Girl esque best buddy relationships. She's my pal, my confidant, and my rock. Aside from Mark and Kate, she's the person I spend the most time with. I've never had to worry about turning into my mother; I can only hope that will be the case. :)I've always heard that it takes becoming a mother yourself to really begin to understand and appreciate the extent of your own mother's love, and I would agree wholeheartedly.

I love handmade gifts, both giving and receiving. However, in terms of giving, I've found that some folks on the gift list are very hard to please with handmade gifts. Of course, they probably never say anything, but you can just tell that they would have much preferred a chain store gift card. Fortunately, mamas rarely fall into this category. Mamas are genetically required to love and appreciate the handwork of their children. I've experienced this first hand when Kate proudly hands me her latest drawing, which I cherish more than anything the mall has to offer. For her birthday this year, my mama is getting a semi-handmade birthday gift: consisting of a gift basket, handmade by me (with the help of my grandmother, who has been teaching me basketweaving, something that really deserves a post of it's own), a homemade lavender mint sugar scrub, two hand knitted dishcloths (the extent of my present knitting skills), and a book I know she will enjoy.
My mama and I both have the habit of going around barefoot, especially during the summer. So, by late July/early August, our feet are dry, leathery, decidedly unladylike, and in desparate need of some TLC. Store bought sugar scrubs are rather pricey! And completely unnecessary, because they are the simplest things in the world to make. After a quick internet search, I sort of cobbled together my own recipe. Basically, you can use any kind of sugar (well, probably not powdered, what a mess that would be!), but I prefer turbinado sugar because it's coarser and makes a better scrub. You can also choose your favorite oil. I used almond oil, but olive oil would work fine too. Your recipe will depend on the size of your container. I picked these little glass jars up at Target (I think). Fill your container with water to determine how much it will hold, because your scrub will be about two parts sugar to one part oil. For these jars, I used 1 cup of sugar and 1/2 cup of almond oil. Then you can customize the fragrance as you like with essential oils of your choice. My mom loves lavender, so I added ten drops of lavender oil and also 10 drops of peppermint oil for that refreshing, tingly feeling that feels so good on the feet. Tea tree would be a nice choice too.

We're having a girls' night out celebration tonight. My mom, my sister Laura, Kate, and I will head to our favorite local pizza place. Mark is actually hosting the open mic there tonight, which is always fun to watch. You just never know what you'll hear, but regardless of talent, it's always entertaining! :)

Watching.....Desk Set

I don't really watch a lot of movies in the summertime, but I made an exception the other night and watched Desk Set, a romantic comedy starring Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn. I loved it! It was completely different than I expected. The little blurb on the Netflix description described Hepburn's character as a "reference librarian," but actually she and her colleagues (all brilliant, impecably dressed ladies with witty tongues and Mad Men-esque hair) run the reference department of the Federal Broadcasting Commission. Essentially, in this pre-computer world, people called the reference department with all manner of questions, and these ladies would either answer immediately, or research as necessary and get back to the caller with the information. It really made me think about how much I take for granted living in a "google age," when anything you could possibly want to know is merely a click of the mouse away. For the most part, I'm in favor of this instant, free access of information, but at the same time, as the movie points out, I wonder to what degree it cripples our memory and other cognitive functions, to have everything so readily accessible and therefore, not really worth "learning." This train of thought could lead to several pages of ramblings, so I'll get back to the movie.

The screenplay was written by Phoebe and Henry Ephron (Nora Ephron's parents), and the film definitely falls within the Ephron signature style of smart romantic comedy. The conflict in the film revolves around the arrival of Tracy's character, a methods engineer (basically a systems analyst by today's terms) who is planning the introduction of the big, bad computer, Emerak. This, of course, leads to a head on confrontation between the old ways (embodied by Hepburn's quick, brilliant, no nonsense character) and the inevitability of new technology replacing the human element.

Even though it's not really a Christmas movie, it is set during the holiday season, which will make it ideal for a December viewing, when the sap and sentiment of true Christmas movies is wearing a bit thin.

This is a film I'm anxious to see again. Sometimes it's hard for me to want to watch a brand new film, because I have a tendancy to want to watch the ones I love over and over again.

Summer Harvest

Despite the stifling heat, late summer is still one of my favorite times of the year. The garden has started producing heavily, keeping us busy, picking and harvesting the summer vegetables, a schedule that will pick up speed and continue through August. Our vegetable garden is a communal effort among our family: us, my mom and dad, and my sister and brother-in-law. It's nice, of course, to share the labor, but I also cherish the memories we're making together putting homegrown food on our table(s).

Meal time is a breeze this time of year, when a simple walk through the garden can yield a feast! A gorgeous plate of tomatos becomes standard fare, the perfect accompaniment to whatever Mark feels like throwing on the grill. My favorite are the Cherokee Purples. My goal from July through August is to turn the oven on as little as possible. I have the same rule with the hair dryer, but that's a different story altogether.

House Concert in Todd, NC

We spent this past weekend up in Boone, visiting Mark's family. On Saturday, we headed even further north, to a lovely community called Todd, to play a house concert for some good friends of ours. They have a beautiful home out in the country with a gorgeous, deep wrap around porch. A porch is always my favorite part of a house, and this porch is simply wonderful. Wide and deep, with gentle breezes and spectacular views. We ate a lot of delicious food, watched the kids play badminton and baseball, lounged in colorful Adirondack chairs, and then sang for our supper.

Mark and I love house concerts, both as musicians and as fans. The intimate, informal setting of someone's front porch or living room allows for so much more conversation and interaction than a restaurant, club, or bar. Stories flow, and we're usually in a much better position to take requests (providing we know them and they aren't "Rocky Top" or "Free Bird"). It's cozy and comfortable, and one of the best ways I know of to really enjoy live music.

We got back yesterday evening, and spent a pleasant Sunday afternoon hanging around the house, just the three of us. This morning is rainy again. Kate and I just spent the past half hour sitting on the front porch rocking chair watching the rain pour down in sheets so big we felt the mist on our faces. Those moments of stillness with her are so precious (and growing fewer and further between). But this morning, it seemed the rain had a calming, mesmerizing effect on both of us, and we stared off into the distance in a rain induced trance. Until George (the cat) decided to join in on the fun, hopped up into my lap as well, thus causing squeals of delight from the little one and breaking the cuddle. Because what's more fun to a toddler than chasing a cat?

A Happy Discovery

This tree is special to us. It was under this tree that Mark and I said our wedding vows. Rest assured the pasture was much better manicured that day. But even in the wild throes of summer overgrowth, I love this spot. In early spring, the tree fills with beautiful, pale pink blossoms. We've always assumed it was a crab apple tree, although it hasn't born any fruit in the past few years.

On our afternoon walk yesterday, rather than taking our usual route and sticking to the driveway, I let Kate wander at will, and of course, undeterred, she plunged straight off course into the pasture and headed for the tree.

And, as you can see, we made a very happy discovery! Apples! Granted, apples on an apple tree may not seem that big of a deal, but considering it has been at least three years since any fruit has hung from those branches, I was pretty excited. Earlier this year, a friend of ours whose grandfather owns an orchard in West Virginia came over for dinner, and upon looking at our tree, determined that, if properly pruned back, it would likely yield good regular sized apples (he doesn't think it's a crab apple tree). Mark has plans to do that in the fall, although honestly we know very little about fruit trees so some research is in order. I think it would be lovely to plant some more apple trees, perhaps a pear tree, and a fig tree. I know we wouldn't see the fruit for years, but still. Kate and baby boy Bumgarner would be able to enjoy them on down the road.

In any event, it was a perfect delight, just sitting under the tree with my little one, inhaling the intoxicating aroma of sweet, tart, wild apples. An ideal spot for an evening picnic. Duly noted.

Reading......The Egg and I

About a month ago, I went to the library and checked out Scott and Helen Nearing's Living the Good Life, which chronicles their experience creating a self-sufficient life for themselves in rural Vermont. Self-sufficiency and simple living have been at the forefront of our consciousness lately, as we try to whittle down our dependency on a consumer driven economy (baby steps at a time), and, of course, the Nearings are at the helm of this movement. So, I read the book, and I found it encouraging and informative from both a practical and philosophical perspective. However, I can't honestly say that I heartily enjoyed reading it. It was a bit dry, and I couldn't help but feel that the overall tone was a bit pompous and self-inflating.

However, a few books down on the same shelf, I came across The Egg and I, by Betty MacDonald. I picked it up, read the inside jacket cover, and knew immediately that this was a book I would like. I vaguely recalled hearing the title before, and remembered that Mark and I had watched a collection of Ma and Pa Kettle movies over the winter, and The Egg and I was the first film.

Well, I just finished reading the book, and what a riot! On more than one occasion, I've found myself laughing out loud at the writer's razor sharp wit and hilarious storytelling. Like the Nearings, Betty also found herself living a life of virtual self-sufficiency as a chicken rancher in Washington State. However, her reason for living this life was hardly as high minded or principled as the Nearings. Basically, living in the country and owning a chicken ranch was her husband's dream, and as her mother had instructed her it was a woman's supreme duty to follow and encourage her husband's dream, Betty finds herself living this "dream" too. Her memoir exposes both the good and the bad one will encounter in living a life "in a little place in the country, away from it all." And while the hardships and frustrations of such isolated living are not glossed over or idealized, the author's sense of humor smoothes over these rough edges, so the tone is never bitter.

Honestly, I don't remember the film being nearly as funny. Or perhaps I should say, I don't remember the character of Betty being as central to the story. The Kettles are only secondary characters in the book, but their role takes on much greater prominence in the film (and rightly so from a marketing perspective, as the Ma and Pa Kettle series this original film spawned would go on to be a huge commercial success). I think I'd like to watch the film again now, having read the book and knowing a bit more about the back story.

It's always exciting to find a "new" favorite author, and I've already added Betty MacDonald's other books to my ever growing book list. I'm especially excited about her children's book series, Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, that I think Kate will enjoy too.

Solitude

There was a time when I did not appreciate solitude. In fact, solitude was often confused with loneliness. Back in my post-college single days, it seemed that virtually all my time was spent alone, and rather than revel in the fact that, if so inclined, I could put on my pajamas right after work and eat ice cream for dinner, I recall it as a time of restlessness and emptiness. Looking back, I sort of want to grab that silly, angsty girl by the scruff of the neck and give her a good talking to about enjoying and appreciating each season life offers, but I doubt she would have listened. In those days, I perceived being alone as a sort of social stigma. What sort of loser sits at home on Saturday night, watching Andy Griffith reruns? I entertained notions of myself as an aspiring cat lady, who would grow old and eccentric and frighten small children.

My how things change. Today, I find myself with the rare luxury of an entire day, all to myself. Parenting is the most beautiful, rewarding, and inspiring job I've ever experienced, but it can also be the most exasperating, frustrating, and exhausting. And sometimes, Mama just needs a break. So when my grandmother and aunt asked if they could borrow Kate for a day, I eagerly handed her off, and rushed home to revel in my day of solitude. I have big plans for an afternoon of reading (a non-rhyming book, without pictures!), cooking, baking, knitting, and perhaps even a solitary walk in the woods when it cools off later in the day. Kate will rejoin me this evening, and after a day away from her, I'll be more than ready to read Peter Rabbit as many times as she wants. Mark is on a business trip for the next two days, and while I would rather have him here with me, I'm making the most of it, which means trying a new recipe for dinner (one that my dear one of the picky palate would never dream of eating), and lining up the Netflix instant queue with movies entirely of my own choosing. In small doses, solitude is a very good thing indeed.

Rainy Day

I suppose at first glance these photos may look rather dreary, but I can't begin to tell you how grateful we are for the sweet, steady rain that has settled in for the day. The past month or better has been blazing hot and dry around here. The garden and pasture have been parched. We don't really have a lawn, but if we did, based on other folks', it would be dry and brown too. So, this rain is a welcome respite from all that dry, dusty heat. Not only for the ground and the plants, but also for the soul. Kate and I have spent the day with the door open to the porch, enjoying the cool gentle breeze brought on by the rain, and listening as it spatters down on the roof, making the most delightful sound. I do love a tin roof, especially on rainy days. It's been a day of knitting, working puzzles, reading, and simmering a batch of chicken broth on the stove. This evening we will venture out to my grandmother's house for a basketweaving lesson, but fortunately she lives less than five minutes from here. I'm a bit old womanish myself when it comes to driving in the rain. Hoping you are finding comfort and happiness in your weather as well.

Lazy Weekend

Normally, our weekends are scheduled around music gigs, and while we definitely enjoy this aspect of our lives (otherwise we wouldn't do it, right?), this past weekend was our one gig free weekend of the summer, and we found ourselves very happy doing a whole lot of nothing.

It was largely the sort of "nothing" that consists of creek wading, ice cream making, and firefly catching, highlighted by long, meandering walks followed up by even longer afternoon naps. In short, it was pretty much bliss.

We did manage to do a few productive things, and even have some fun in the process. There is always wood to be stacked, bread to be baked, and mountains of squash right now to be blanched and put in the freezer. But, of course, chores like that hardly count as work, when done with willing hearts and hands.

We also found ourselves reveling in the afterglow of Friday's news, and dreaming about the new addition to our family we'll meet before too long. Kate continues to talk enthusiastically about her brother, and I alternate between dreamy reveries of sweet baby toes and snuggly blue blankets and the more practical aspects of welcoming a new baby that will involve a whole lot of unpacking and repacking the storage shed and the inevitable rearranging and organizing of furniture, drawers, and closets. But, of course, there's still plenty of time for all that. So I shall continue to say until all of a sudden it's November, and I'm sorting baby socks at three in the morning. All in good time. :)

Frogs, Snails, and Puppy Dog Tails

We're so happy to announce that the next little Bum is on the way! The big ultrasound yesterday revealed that come December 11th (or thereabouts), we'll be welcoming a sweet bundle of frogs, snails, and puppy dog tails. Needless to say, we are thrilled. Kate has already been informing us for weeks that she's going to have a brother, and, well, it turns out she was right. Uncanny, huh? :)

Of course we would have been happy either way, but despite the fact that I know very little about boys (I have a sister and all girl cousins), I'm so excited about the new dynamic this will add to our family. We can't wait to meet the little fellow!

The Glad Game

When I was a little girl, probably around 8 or 9, I became obsessed with the movie Pollyanna. I drove my parents (and grandparents) absolutely batty with that movie, begging to watch it multiple times a day. Now, as I find myself on the other end of a child's fondness for repetetition (Pride and Prejudice and The Ghost and Mr. Chicken are in heavy rotation around here), I can understand how too much of a good thing can become annoying. But, despite that, I still have a fondness for Pollyanna. One of my favorite things about that movie is the Glad Game. If you haven't seen the film (and really, you should probably drop what you're doing right this very second and update your Netflix queue), the Glad Game was invented by Pollyanna's father and basically revolves around the premise that no matter how dire and unpleasant the circumstances, you can always find something to be glad about. What a beautiful lesson for a child. And perhaps even more important for us grown ups.

Today, I'm glad about gladiolas. My grandmother has a big gladiola bed in her yard, and she picked this bouquet for me yesterday when Kate and I went to visit her. These gladiolas are extra special too, because I gave my grandmother the bulbs for a Valentine's Day present in 2008. I was still teaching at the time, and had bought them from a student for an FFA (Future Farmers of America) fundraiser. I took them to her the afternoon of February 13th, and later that same evening, I went to the hospital. The next day (Valentine's Day), I welcomed my sweet Kate into this world. So every year since, when I see these beautiful flowers, I'm reminded of that special, magical time. And it makes me very glad indeed.

A Bit of Family History and An Herb Garden

According to family legend, my great-great grandmother (on my mom's side) was a Native American "medicine woman." The details are foggy (and her "off grid" lifestyle probably doesn't lend itself well to digging through public records, although honestly, I haven't tried), but according to my grandfather, his grandmother was Apache. I've always wondered how this could be, since we live so near Cherokee, but he was adamant. In any event, she never married, but had lots and lots of children (a fact that causes my very proper grandmother to cringe, even to this day). Essentially, she wandered through the hills gathering wild plants and herbs and "doctoring" people. She was also a midwife (or at least, she was competent at delivering babies, I'm not sure the term midwife would have been used). Her name was Aletha Talitha and regardless (or perhaps because) of the murky details surrounding her life, I've always been fascinated by her.

Perhaps it's an overly romantic notion to want to attribute it to genetics, but my fascination with herbs and herbal medicine continues to grow, especially since I've become a mother. For years, I've kept little pots of herbs on the porch, but this is the first year I've had an actual herb garden. It has been a daily source of pride and enjoyment, for both myself and Kate. For the most part, the herbs in my herb garden are primarily culinary, but next year I'm planning to have a separate bed devoted to medicinal herbs.

As we strive for a more self-sufficient life, I'm finding myself drawn more and more to alternative medicine, specifically to acquiring the knowledge and skills that enable one to self-heal with herbal and homeopathic medicine. A few books I've been reading lately on the subject:

• The Family Guide to Homeopathy: Symptoms and Natural Solutions
• A Field Guide to Medicinal Plants and Herbs: Of Eastern and Central North America
• Encyclopedia of Herbal Medicine
• A Kid's Herb Book by: Lesley Tierra