Exercises in Domesticity

This is a long story, but I need to get all the details down.  Otherwise, my family won't believe me when I say "I canned 140 pounds of tomatoes this week."  And in twenty years, I won't even believe that I canned 140 pounds of tomatoes  - ever. Unless, of course, this exercise in domesticity results in me becoming an Expert Canner of all things.  Which turn of events is highly improbable.  Here's what happened:

The Abridged Version
I don't know how to can, but I went to a farm and picked up 140 pounds of tomatoes and had a jolly good time there and then I made sauces and spent all night canning with some friends and came home at 1:00 in the morning feeling like I'd turned into a tomato and then a tomato seed fell out of my hair.  The End.

If you are related to me, you are required to read the unabridged version.

The Unabridged Version
About a week ago, our friend Monte Anderson, aka Farmer Monte (head of the agricultural department at Wilmington College, 45 minutes north of Loveland) called Rob with the following information:  "I've just picked 300 pounds of tomatoes.  Do you want some?  I can give you up to 200 pounds."  Rob called me to see if we wanted tomatoes.  I don't know the answer to questions like this, so I called my friend Monica.

"Do we want tomatoes from Farmer Monte?" I asked.
"YES! We definitely do," she almost jumped through the phone.
"Okay, we can get up to 200 pounds.  How many pounds do we want?"
"All of them."
"Um...are you sure?"
"Yes.  Instead of having a girls' dinner on Thursday night, we're going to can tomatoes at my house."

Now, I've had very few experiences with canning in my life.  It's one of those skills, like sewing, that I heretofore have never acquired.  Sure, I remember days and days of picking green beans from our garden in Michigan as a child, and gathering in the neighborhood ladies and children to snap the ends off the beans, put them in a big bowl, and deliver them to my mother, who was loading beans into something called "canning jars," and carefully tending a steamer full of said jars.  A lovely memory.  Then there was the Great Applesauce Canning of 2007.  My friend Nancy called to say she could get bushels and bushels of apples, and did we want to can applesauce.  Monica said we did, so off I headed with a few canning jars and an apple peeler.  Twelve hours later, I took 9 big canning jars home and settled them on my food storage shelf in the basement.  A few times, Monica has called to say we're making and canning jam.  Once I even requested a jam canning session!  So it's not like I'm completely inexperienced in canning, it's just that it's a rather overwhelming experience each time it happens.  Monica says if you're going to make your kitchen a disaster zone for canning, you might as well can massive quantities.  Who am I to protest?  She's the expert.  I don't even know if we want tomatoes.

On Wednesday night, I headed north to Wilmington College to meet Monte and his wife Diane at The Big Red Barn.  They arrived in their uber-sporty "we're empty nesters and we live in a place with wide open roads" Mercedes leather interior two-seater convertible.  I arrived in my Jeep, the perfect car for transporting massive amounts of tomatoes, as well as romping through whatever farmland was required.  Monte was sitting on the very appropriate farmer rocking chair in front of the barn.  Have you ever imagined what a midwestern farmer looks like rocking on a chair outside of a red barn?  Well, it's all true.  It looks just like that.

Monte, Diane and I walked into The Big Red Barn and, sure enough, there were stacks and stacks of bins bursting with the tomato harvest.  And right there, in front of the barn, stood 1,000 tomato plants just ready for harvesting.  Monte grabbed a bucket and took us out in the tomato fields.  He showed me the different varieties, and we pulled off a few for sampling.  For the first time in my life, I think, I popped tomatoes in my mouth straight from the vine.  Yes, it was a delightful and delicious experience.  Then Monte said, "Why don't you and Diane go for a drive in the convertible while I load tomatoes in your car?"

Um, yes please.  I hopped in the driver's seat and off we went, down the open roads in the dark, hair just barely blowing in the wind thanks to a wind net behind the seats.  I thought I was going super fast, but Diane said I could go faster - I wasn't even cresting the speed limit.  So I pushed that pedal a little and giggled the whole way.  Seriously giggled.  If you ever want all your cares to melt away, I seriously recommend joyriding in a sporty Mercedes convertible, preferably in Wilmington, Ohio.  When we returned, Monte was rocking away on the farmer rocker.  As I was obviously enthralled with the farm, Monte decided we should hop on the Gator (the four-wheeler with a truck bed in the back) and go out to the sweet corn fields.  Again, me with the giggling and the stress of the day blowing off the back of the Gator.  Monte hopped out and picked a dozen ears of sweet corn.  "Monte, why did you plant the sweet corn so close to the road, where people can see it?" Diane asked.  She looked at me, "Usually it's buried deep in the corn fields so we keep it hidden."  Like you'd keep your crown jewels hidden, because that's basically what sweet corn is.  Just ask Garrison Keillor.

Returning to The Big Red Barn, Monte walked me over to his new chicken coop.  "Some people don't have houses this nice," he said, "but the President of the College told me we had to raise chickens, and I said we needed a new coop."  Indeed, these two-week old chickens are living in style!  They have a warm bed, a porch, a door, and high ceilings.  These are the kind of happy chickens that make delicious dinners and excellent broth.  Finally, we said goodbye, and I started down south to Loveland.  Along the way, I realized I was driving right past the Lesan family homes, so I stopped to deliver tomatoes and corn to Sarah and Marc (Rob's sister and her husband).  I mean, how often to you get a surprise fresh-from-the-farm delivery of corn and tomatoes at 9:45 pm?

Here's what my kitchen table looked like on Wednesday night:

On Thursday morning, I started.  My job was to make a big pot - or, as it turned out - my two biggest pots of Diane's chili sauce, suitable for all kinds of pasta and chili and basically ever other meal in which you might want a tomato sauce.  My friend Heidi arrived fresh from milking her cow at Turner Farm (I am not making this up) and picked up a bin of tomatoes for making ketchup (I am also not making this up.  I am not also making up the part where Heidi makes butter and buttermilk from her freshly-milked milk, then grinds wheat and makes buttermilk waffles topped with fresh butter, all the while tending Ellie and Matt so I can move faster through the grocery store).  I finished my shopping, headed to Heidi's to pick up E&M, gobbled up a buttermilk waffle with freshly picked berries, picked some basil from her garden, and headed home to get to work.

This is the part where I blanch and skin and core 24 tomatoes, chop 8 onions and 4 green peppers, and stir and stir and stir.  Ellie wanted more friend time, so we invited her friend William over for the afternoon.  I was hoping to double the batch, but as it turns out I don't have a pot the size of Ohio.  I have pots the size of Rhode Island, and 24 tomatoes took up two of them.  I didn't know about blanching and skinning and coring.  Do you know about blanching and skinning and coring?

Rob came home about 6:30, bless him, and poured the simmering chili sauce into my jars.  Then he helped me load the car with the remaining contents of the kitchen table as well as jars, lids, a borrowed steamer, and extra ingredients.  You just never know when you might need some extra onions, or green peppers, or fresh basil.  Heidi and I arrived at Monica's and got to work.  We quickly put my chili sauce jars in Monica's steamer and started heating up the steamer I borrowed from my friend Beth.  Monica had a lovely venison roast on the table, a little something she had put in the crock pot with potatoes and carrots earlier in the day.  Heidi added a salad and some fresh bread.  We ate bites while we continued the blanching, skinning and coring process.  Let me tell you, those girls can really move with a knife.  Then our friend Nancy showed up to get the bins, because she was headed up to Farmer Monte the next morning to collect 50 pounds of tomatoes (she actually ended up collecting many more pounds, because Beth and another friend decided they wanted in on the tomato action, not that any of us are obsessed with tomatoes, apparently).  So we dumped the remaining tomatoes on the counter:

It's hard to accurately describe the canning process:  the steam rising from the big steamers, a little sauce pan boiling lids, a larger saucepan blanching tomatoes - all four burners going, with 3 frantic women chatting and chopping and then scooping up piles of tomatoes and shoving them into jars.

Each batch of jars has to steam for 45 minutes.  With two steamers, we could do 14 jars at a time.  Then we'd use a dry dishtowel to grab the hot steamy jars from the steamer and run them to a towel on the kitchen table to cool.  Usually our fingers didn't get burned.  The jars began to pile up:

By 12:30am, we put the last 14 jars in the steamer.  In all, we canned 42 jars of tomatoes and 6 jars of chili sauce.  Heidi's ketchup took another TWO days to boil down and thicken, and she delivered jars to us on Sunday.  I don't think even Wonder Woman will attempt that again, but it sure looks lovely sitting in the jar in my cupboard.  And now my basement food storage has an entire shelf of beautiful tomatoes and sauces and ketchup.  Talk about crown jewels - I think I have to save them for special occasions!  I left Monica's about 1:00am, my hands tingly from all the tomato acid and my skin smelling fiercely of tomatoes.  When I walked in my door, the lingering smell of the chili sauce was still strong.  It occurred to me briefly in my delirious state that the tomato smell might be permanently lodged in my skin and home.  By 1:30, I was falling into bed, next to Rob who'd been asleep for hours.  This is the part where a tomato seed falls out of my hair.  A fitting conclusion, don't you think?

Epilogue
Only Heidi thought to save some fresh tomatoes for eating.  So I went over to Heidi's on Friday to pick up a big bag.  I savored some tomatoes over dinner, doused lightly with olive oil and balsamic vinegar.  Then on Sunday morning, Rob got up and started the pots boiling all over again.  He blanched and skinned and cored, chopped up Heidi's basil and some parsley, garlic and onions, and let a marinara sauce simmer all day long.  We ate it over linguine Monday night.  Amazing.  But I might have to take a break from eating tomatoes.  Good thing those jars last for awhile!

on being a deliberate mom

Well, if you aren't familiar with the Power of Moms website, here it is:

http://powerofmoms.com/

A gathering place for deliberate moms.  I love that moniker.  Sometimes I don't feel like a deliberate mom, and when that happens, I try to remember to check out the website to see what other deliberate moms are saying and doing.  It's so easy to engage in default mothering.  Lately, too often, when Ellie asks me at bedtime what we're doing the next day (she says, "Mom, will you talk the day?") I don't have a good answer.  Well, at least I don't have a good answer for what she will be doing.  I've had a busy few weeks working on some projects, and Rob has had some work responsibilities that have kept him at the office from way before dawn until way after bedtime.

This means E&M have been left to their own devices - a recipe for grumpiness and frustration for all involved.  On top of it all, I've been potty training Matt, which requires some significant stay-at-home time, making life a little bit boring.  But Ellie's nightly question reminds me that I have chosen motherhood, and I am happy about that choice - and that choice plays out better when we make a plan, even if that plan is as simple as a trip to the library followed by storytime on the sofa.  Except that today during quiet storytime on the sofa, which was basically the first time I'd sat down all day, I was so tired I seriously thought I was going to fall asleep mid-sentence and fall off the sofa.    But, hey, at least we were having some together time.  Tomorrow I'm forgetting about housework and even potty training (at least for a few hours) and we're going to a pool.  Haven't decided whose pool yet, but I know we're going.  We need the sunshine and the sheer delight of swimming around, and it makes my day to watch my kids jumping off the diving board over and over again and laughing.

A few days ago, my regular Power of Moms email update included the good news that Linda and Richard Eyre's new book is on the verge of release.  I've known it was in the works for some time, and I've been looking forward to reading it:  The Entitlement Trap: How to Rescue Your Child with a New Family System of Choosing, Earning, and Ownership

Um, yeah, I totally need that information.  The great news is that right now they're doing a huge giveaway in connection with the release.  Check it out:  http://entitlementtrap.com/giveaway.htm

Platinum prize is a trip to Salt Lake for a Power of Moms retreat?  Now that's another thing I totally need in my life!  Alas, there's no way I can arrange to be in Salt Lake the weekend of the retreat, but maybe someone who reads my blog will enter and win!  I'm crossing my fingers for you!

summer

sunshine.  heat.  pool.  swim lessons.  zoo.  4th of july sparklers.  park.  picnics.  water play on the deck.  helicopter visit at the library.  tessa turns 1.  and it's not over yet!  in august:  ellie turns 5.  rob turns 32.

oh summer, please never end!

Baby's First Passport Stamp

This spring was full of adventures!  In March, Rob and I took Tess to visit Mom and Dad in Barcelona.  Joseph and Jenni gave up their last spring break of law school and drove 11 hours from Kansas to Cincinnati to take care of Ellie and Matt for a week.  Then a few dear friends took in our kiddos for a weekend until Rob and I got back.  We have amazing people to take care of us and let us have this opportunity!

I love that all my kids have passports and Spain stamps in them!  Next to potty-training Ellie, I consider taking our children abroad at a young age perhaps our greatest parenting accomplishment to date.  Here is a representative smattering of our week in Barcelona.

My absolute favorite  moment of the trip was walking out of baggage claim and seeing Mom and Dad waiting for us, and then crying as they held Tess for the first time.  Even after an overnight flight, Tess was delightful and obliged her Grammie and Pops with smiles and kisses.

Medieval knights and Barcelona/Catalan history museum.  What could be better?  Tess in the peanut shell sling was my constant accessory during the trip.  She took all her naps resting in the sling, and then sat up in the sling to observe the sights and sounds of the city.  We only took the stroller with us one day, and it was a mistake.  Tess did much better in the sling, and we didn't have to navigate the stroller through the metro, up and down stairs, and in and out of little cafes and stores.

The waterfront.  One of our favorite places.  It was so fun to see the city for the second time.  We felt almost like residents, knowing our way around.  Oh, except the little detail that neither of us speaks Spanish.

We traveled by train to Valencia with Mom and Dad and the Assistants for zone conference.  We stayed in a lovely little hotel right in the center of town.  After a delicious Valencian breakfast, we took off to explore the city while Mom and Dad went to zone conference.  We ducked out of the rain into the cathedral, and it was so lovely that we decided to take the super tour (including headphones in English).  It was one of the best things we saw on the trip.  Here I am in front of the patron saint of pregnant women.  Who knew mothers with child had their own saint?  Next time around, I'll remember that there's a statue in Valencia rooting for me!

Rob came face to face with a medieval reliquary and its, well, goods for the first time in his life; let's just say the shock on his face as he gazed at the reliquary's contents was not the same as my awestruck silence.  I'm not sure he realized what exactly went into a reliquary!  The most amazing part of the Valencia Cathedral is the Holy Chalice Chapel, dating to the late medieval period.  It now houses what purports to be Holy Grail.  I had no idea - wish I had brought some good Grail literature to sit and contemplate in that medieval setting!  Rob was grateful we didn't, because sitting down in the Holy Chalice Chapel reading medieval Anglo-Norman poetry isn't exactly his dream vacation.

The Columbus statue at the end of La Rambla.  A necessary stop on the Barcelona tour.

The steps of the Royal Palace.  Tradition holds that Columbus came up this path to give his report of his New World discovery to Ferdinand and Isabella.  Facts don't exactly bear out this tradition, but, as Winston Churchill said of King Arthur, "It's all true, or it should be."

Our favorite tapas place.  Thanks for treating us, Mom and Dad!  So delicious.  There's a restaurant in Cincinnati that claims to serve tapas.  Their claim is highly inaccurate.  Am I a tapas snob after two visits to Barcelona?  Yes, yes I am.

Have baby, will travel.  This little girl loves far away adventures.  She wore this smile pretty much the whole trip.  We decided we can take her anywhere (and subsequently did, as I may get around to recording in future posts).

Here's another exuberant Tessa with lovely Grammie, enjoying hot chocolate and churros.  We spent a considerable portion of every day eating.  Here's a brief afternoon stop at a hot chocolate place that was so good we went back just a day later!

In the background is Aunt Kathy and Richard.  They came down from the Preston England missionary training center for a weekend.  The MTC was having some remodeling between groups of missionaries, and they were instructed to leave for 2 weeks.  Hey, you've got to love a mission that includes a two week vacation!  They explored England, went to visit Paris, and came to Barcelona.  Their trip means that almost all my Dad's have visited Mom and Dad in Barcelona.  How fun is that?  We loved observing the missionary conversation between the four of them, and watching them talk about the gospel with those around them.  They talked about the amazing missionaries they'd had the opportunity to train, and how best to help missionaries successfully make the jump from the MTC to their mission assignments.  They traded stories about the miracles they'd observed in the lives of missionaries and those they teach.  So inspiring.  Maybe someday we'll get to have similar experiences with my siblings!  I hope so!

Here's Tessa and Pops at the gorgeous old train station in Valencia at night.  Tess is tucked away in her swaddle, ready for bed.  Like I said, dream travel baby.

Rob was especially enthralled with this tree in Valencia.  I knew the depth of his fascination when he actually asked me to take a picture of it - yes, the man who insists he has a very limited annual picture quota.

Lunchtime in Valencia.  It was a cold, rainy day, and we hadn't brought appropriate clothing for Tess.  She was freezing!  Luckily, we've been to Spain before, and we know that all you have to do is find El Corte Ingles, and all your needs will be met.  Further fortunately, our map of the city was published by El Corte Ingles, so all store locations were marked.  We had a grand time looking at all the amazing baby clothes, and finally decided on this little sweater.  Tess was much happier.

Where did we eat lunch in beautiful Spanish Valencia?  Burger King.  We passed by all the lovely little tapas places, offering what looked like delightful meals.  But Rob said we were going to get lots of Spanish food during the week, and begged me for a Burger King cheeseburger and diet Coke (Coca light, as I eventually remembered it's called in Europe).  So here we are, enjoying very, very American fare in a very, very Spanish city.  Hey, I'll eat anything as long as I get to be in Spain with my baby and husband!

So there's a smattering.  It was a grand, grand time, and I tried very hard to limit the good-bye tears.  Rather unsuccessfully.  But we're just grateful that we had the opportunity to spend such wonderful time with Mom and Dad!  Oh, and get baby her first passport stamp.

All in Eight Hours

Indulge me while I use my blog as a journal moment.

This morning my friend Adriana, a counselor in our Relief Society presidency, came over for my visiting teaching stewardship interview.  By ten o'clock, I told her when we scheduled the appointment, we're all dressed and fed and have things in basic order.  I was anticipating having the kids play quietly in the toy room while she and I sat and had a lovely spiritually uplifting conversation in the family room.  The kids and I would be dressed, the dishwasher would be quietly humming, perhaps I'd even have a load of laundry in process.

Last night I woke up for absolutely no good reason at 2:30.  Just as I was drifting back to sleep about 3:00, Tess woke up screaming for food.  I stumbled into her room and lifted her out of her bed to nurse.  For about 30 seconds, I couldn't figure out why she was still crying and not eating. Then I realized that I had the back of her head to me rather than her face.  Just as I got that figured out, Ellie came wandering in.  "Mom, my tummy hurts."  She sat next to me until Tess finished her middle of the night meal, and then I took her downstairs and gave her some anti-nausea medicine.  By 3:30 we were all back in bed.  I didn't wake up even a little bit when Rob climbed out of bed at 5:00 to get to work early.  At 6:30, Tess woke up again - and so did Ellie.  Everyone back to bed by 7:00.  Then half an hour later, Ellie brought me my slippers, my brush and a ponytail holder (the things she knows I need immediately upon waking up) and said she was hungry.  I told her it wasn't time for me to get up, but she could get a snack.  Dutifully and without much protest, she left me to catch a few bits of sleep before the day really got going.

Some time later, I opened my eyes and the clock said 9:30.  Ellie was quietly playing in her room.  Matt and Tess were still sleeping.  Lovely, but now I only had 30 minutes to create my peaceful mid-morning buzz of productivity before Adriana's arrival.  By the time I was out of the shower, Tess was awake.  I got Ellie a bowl of cereal, got Tess up, and then Adriana arrived.  She was early, because when she arrived at her appointment before me, that friend was in sick in bed.  Meanwhile, Matt woke up in meltdown mode - sobbing inconsolably.  After a few minutes, he requested to watch Curious George, and I complied because I figured the television had a volume button, and Matt did not.  Adriana and I were still chatting at the table while I was trying to get my girls settled when Matt started crying again.  I looked over to see him standing up on the sofa and covering his mouth.  Before I could get over there, the vomit started.  Lots of it.  Adriana said, "You get him, I'll get the sofa."  I protested, "You are not cleaning that up!"  "I'm a nurse," she said, "it doesn't bother me.  I've dealt with much worse."  So she found a rag and fabric cleaner while I stripped Matt and cleaned him up, and then gave him some anti-nausea medicine.  Then Tess, who had been quietly sitting in her swing, started squirming herself out and onto the floor (I know, buckling her in would have avoided that particular incident, but cut me some slack).  Adriana fixed that while I was helping Matt.

Then we settled in for our interview, reading a scripture and discussing how to emulate the Savior, talking about the needs of the women on my visiting teaching route, all while Curious George and Hundley tried to get the doorman's broken boat back to the deserted island (maybe some of you have seen that episode a time or two).  Mission accomplished (for us as well as Curious George), Adriana left to finish her visits while her baby pleasantly dealt with the realization that he was not going to get a nap this morning.

Now as I'm trying to record these events, Ellie just came in to scold me:  "Mom, you can't just leave Tessa by herself!  Or Matt!"  Back to work for me...

There are a lot of things I could write about this cartoon.  Many years before Rob and I had children, I watched my sisters and incredulously declared, "Wow, you just have to entertain them all day long.  If you want to read a book or write an essay you can't do it! The children are always there!"  There's a lot to say about where I was then compared to where I am now. Or at least where I should be now.

There are a lot of things I wish Rob and I could negotiate in a contract.   Provisions could include things such as the following:

• Ellie and Matt shall not demand food or toys or games while Mom is feeding Tessa
• Only one child may cry at a time
• Any period of sleep shorter than one hour shall not constitute fulfillment of a nap
• Decisions concerning meal time and menu, approved activities and outings, bath time and duration, and bedtime routines shall be made solely by Mom and/or Dad.  Children may provide limited input but may not display any displeasure at the final decision.
• No child shall have a meltdown in any public place, including but not limited to those places (e.g. libraries) that require quiet from their patrons.
• Except in case of severe injury or potty accident, children shall not request the presence of Mom and/or Dad during the hours of 8:00 pm and 8:00 am.  Itchy skin, imaginary scratches, mild thirst, or lack of doll/bear in bed do not constitute severe injury.
• Failure to abide by any provision shall constitute a breach of contract, entitling Mom and Dad to damages including but not limited to the following:  allow the injured party 1 or more hours of complete quiet, during which time the injured party may take a nap, read a book, or pursue any other leisure activity; clean all toys without parental supervision; entertain another sibling by any means resulting in smiles and happy noises from the sibling being entertained; other remedies created and requested in the sole discretion of the injured party.

There are lots of things I could write about this cartoon.  But for now, I'll just give a big public expression of gratitude to Rob, who came home a little bit early from work yesterday and immediately sent me out to explore the world on my own.  I went to my favorite bookstore, ate in the cafe, worked on my Sunday School lesson, and read books about parenting.  I stopped at the store to replenish our supply of baby foot and Vitamin Water and arrived home four hours later feeling cleansed from the week.  Turns out, the parenting books indicate that our children's behavior is pretty typical, and we're not complete parental failures.  Now if we could only get that contract in place...

On the Occasion of Seven

Seven years ago today Rob and I were married in the Salt Lake temple.  Seven years!  Really?  Because seven years seems so, well, substantial.  But here we are at the start of 2011:  three children and going on six years in the same house and job for Rob.  I guess that means we're adults of some kind.  I love this candid of us on our wedding day, just basking in the glow of eternity.  Rob will tell you that he's not basking:  he's explaining how uncomfortable his tuxedo shoes are (sorry I made you wear those, babe) and asking how many more pictures we have to take in the winter cold, followed up by how pretty I look.

Here we are now, a little more grown up, on a rather chilly day but in much more comfortable shoes:

A month after our wedding, on our first Valentine's Day together, Rob gave me the domain name "teamlesan.org."  A geek gift, he said, from my computer geek husband.  It was romantic:  a technological representation of our new family unit.  Geek gifts have since become something of a tradition with us; or, rather, they occur with such frequency that I have decided to call them a tradition.  But of all the wonderful geek gifts I have given and received over the past seven years, my favorite is still teamlesan.org.  Perhaps I've infused the domain name with more meaning that it had at the time Rob chose it, but isn't that how love works?  What starts as something small and simple becomes bigger and more meaningful as time moves forward.  So there's my romantic anniversary message:  love is like a domain name...

Happy 7th, RCLIII.  I love being on your team!