September 2010

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fall in the hood

September 28, 2010 in alaska, autumn | 7 comments

fall 2010 . juneau, alaska

Time to vote!

Devil’s Club never looked so beautiful.

Not to mention the rest of the forest.

I don’t know if this shed looks happier now or in the spring.

The fireweed has smoldered out.

Many beautiful fall colors to take in. And of course, the return of wet, grey skies means a lot more time in the kitchen.

September coho and a crisp made from summer’s harvest of huckleberries and blueberries. It’s dark by dinner time now.

A birthday cake after school snack (Brian made this carrot cake! He’s been a kitchen rock star lately).

Good morning raindrops! A good day to cozy up with a book, coffee and some snuggle bugs.

beauty in the breakdown

September 27, 2010 in autumn, mighty, tidepooling, wildlife | 11 comments

Last week bordered on insanity. It was just one of those times. Nothing really stood out as particularly awful, except for Mighty cutting his head open. For the fourth time. On my birthday.

And he proceeded to fall and cut his head open again last night–a mirror image of this one but thankfully not requiring stitches or glue. He’s ok. Just makes me afraid for when he’s 16.

The last week made me reflect on how my own expectations so often can get in the way of my ability to enjoy a situation for what it is. I need to work on being more emotionally flexible, especially with the kids getting older and developing their own beautiful (though frequently contrary) opinions.

Sometimes, and obviously, all it takes is a moment for me to step back and see things anew. I was feeling this way, on my birthday, when things just turned out completely crappy… spending it in the ER and all… (how whiney can I sound?!). I needed some air, and a break from the chaos, so I took a walk.

I found this guy.

I knew sea stars regenerated their limbs, but I couldn’t recall ever seeing this happen in the flesh. What a metaphor for the human spirit. And a reminder for me.

In fact, the beach was literally covered in starfish. I had never seen so many in one place.

Here’s to autumn:

Candles at dinner.

Early bedtimes after new book adventures.

Spruce cones.

Mulled wine.

The sound of the falling leaves in the forest, insulation for a winter white blanket.

Dashing to the car in the pouring rain.

A cleansing of the mind and a long season’s regeneration of spirits.

herbert glacier trail

September 21, 2010 in alaska, family, hiking, weekends, wildlife | 9 comments

It’s been sunny and warm here for so many days now that I can’t remember the last time it rained. It’s very, very unusual for September to be this nice here in our rainy town. Very unusual. Brian and I were talking about how wonderful it is–but at the same time, I’m reading all these articles about the climate in Fairbanks changing drastically over the next decades and the arctic sea ice melting, forcing all the walrus to come ashore by the tens of thousands… makes me wonder. I am trying to put my ponderings aside though and enjoy it for what it is: a blissful, colorful, normal fall (anywhere but here).

On Saturday, we took a bike ride on an incredible trail out-the-road. The Herbert Glacier Trail runs four miles along the Herbert River until you come to a wide, sandy valley surrounded by bright cottonwoods, their frisky yellow leaves glittering in the wind. Then there was the glacier. Sigh… I love living in a place where you can walk into the wilderness along a river and come face-to-face with an ancient glacier in a beautiful valley. It was so perfectly autumn-y that I could almost smell cinnamon wafting in the air.

The only other time I had done this trail was in the winter, through deep snow. We turned around before we got to the glacier because it was too cold and treacherous. The trail was easily conquered this time, with Brian pulling Mighty in the bike trailer, Bird riding in the child seat on my bike, and J riding solo.

We had much fun lounging on the giant glacier-worn rocks along the river. The afternoon shadows became our entertainment and we added to the collection of rock cairns that line the riverbanks.

The evidence of big bears was all around us. We found a lot of scat, most of it laden with highbush cranberries (hey, I was happy to see that they’d prefer berries over me). I can’t believe I’m posting a picture, but it’s kind of interesting… right?

Since I can’t leave you with a photo of bear poop, here’s a trippy shot that Brian took of me and the littles when we were downtown Friday evening. Tomorrow is my birthday! I’m mostly just looking forward to the cake.

ginger crinkles, etc

September 17, 2010 in in the kitchen, recipes | 13 comments

I didn’t feel like cooking much over the summer. Historically, it’s the season that inspires me most in the kitchen. I’m blaming this change on the adjustment to having more daylight in my summers again. We were out and about so much over the summer that, before I knew it, it would be nine o’clock and I didn’t have a clue what to do about dinner. With school upon us now and the dawn of a crazy new schedule, I decided that I needed to make a serious meal plan and stick to it.

My inspiration is slowly returning with the help from my menu. Here’s a few things I have made this week:

Pizza on the grill, of course. Have to squeeze in as many grill nights as possible while it is still warm out.

Scones, made with currants that I picked at my friend Jessy’s house. They were awfully bitter after I dried them but once baked and topped with maple syrup, they were super yum!

My favorite homemade bread from my favorite cookbook.

Can you believe I found Hatch chiles up here? SO awesome. I roasted and froze a big batch. I’m thinking I have to go back for more still.

I wonder what else I can turn around in my life if I were to make more “plans”? I’m kind of a fly by the seat of my pants person and I’m learning that this is not an easy way to live when you have lots of little people depending on you. Yes, it’s taken me nearly eight years to figure this out.

In the making of my meal plan, I decided a few desserts were in order. My lovely menu called for spicy pumpkin brownies. Hello, fall. So I add canned pumpkin to my brilliant, master grocery list. Turns out, the new and improved Fred Meyer decided that it’s a seasonal thing and they don’t stock freaking canned pumpkin. What? It’s canned pumpkin! Not wanting to run to Safeway which I know stocks it, I used my critical problem solving skills to make a new plan (this is where my “on the fly” skills come in handy). In keeping with my fall theme, I remembered one of my autumn standbys: the Ginger Crinkles cookies from my handy favorite cookbook. As much as I am still dreaming of spicy pumpkin brownies, I am so happy with my second choice. Makes me remember how wonderful fall cooking can be and it’s got me thinking of all kinds of warming recipes to add to next week’s plan.

Seriously, though–seasonal? I thought that’s why we had canned items: to enjoy them when I can’t go buy winter squash at the market. Is this an Alaska thing?

So here’s my deliciously addictive ginger cookies recipe. For reasons I haven’t been able to determine yet, they get the most beautiful crackly texture on top and they are awesomely chewy. Really the perfect combo. I’m thinking about trying them with rice flour in an effort to try to get back to eating less gluten. I’ll let you know.

Ginger Crinkles

adapted from the Fiddlehead Cookbook (buy this book, you won’t regret it)

1/2 pound butter, keep cold and cut into smallish chunks
1 3/4 cups sugar
1 egg
1/3 cup molasses
2 3/4 cups flour
1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda
1 3/4 teaspoons cinnamon
1 3/4 teaspoons powdered ginger
1/2 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup sugar (for dipping)

Preheat oven to 350. Cream together butter and 1 3/4 cups sugar until fluffy. Beat in eggs and molasses. Sift together dry ingredients and stir into butter mixture. Form dough into walnut-size balls, dip one side into sugar and place on a cookie sheet with sugar side up. Flatten ball slightly with the bottom of a glass. Bake about 12 minutes, until golden brown and puffed in the center. Let cool on racks and then eat a lot with a side of good dipping tea.

makes about 36 cookies

just another day in paradise

September 12, 2010 in alaska, exploring nature, weekends | 6 comments

Had to share the sunset I watched from our beach last night. I was coming home from Safeway when I saw the most amazing orange glow. I ran inside, grabbed the camera and ran down to the beach to catch the last rays. And yes, I feel super, crazy lucky to be able to walk out my front door and cross the street to see this.

We had a wonderful weekend here, except that it went too fast and that Brian and the two littles have the back-to-school crud. J and I did the West Glacier Trail today, though we didn’t make it to the ice caves before we had to turn around. What a beautiful trail at this time of year; the cottonwoods are aglow in their fall colors and the leaves are drifting softly down through the forest.

Looks like we’re in for an Indian Summer this week! Today was absolutely stellar and the forecast through next weekend looks like smooth sailing with lots of orange glow!

PS–Has anyone else in Juneau noticed how high the tide has been this week? Insane! I thought we would get carried away at the beach a few times.

chapters

September 1, 2010 in family, music, parenting | 9 comments

Well, summer is over. My mom and dad have gone home to Texas after their adventurous visit. The colors are changing and the air feels chilly. The boys have both started school. All is mostly mellow again five mornings of the week. I miss them a lot. I fooled myself into thinking I was ready for the loud, crazy days of summer vacation to end.

This is Mighty’s first year in “real” school–he’s a big kindergartner now. He has seemed ready for it and so far so good. On the other hand, J started second grade. Second grade! I can hardly believe I am that old, let alone him. It’s hard to say if we’re ready for this… I know he is, but if I admit that, I feel like I’m losing his last little bits of baby.

I remember second grade. Second grade was the year my mom revolted against the Arizona public school system and started a homeschooling exodus in our family that ran through all eight of us kids. It was kind of a big deal. Homeschooling was definitely not the hip thing to do in those days. After the changes that came with second grade, I have no distinguishing separation between each year as they all were similar: spent with the same teacher and the same “classmates” (aka my younger three sisters and four brothers). It was a beautiful thing. I wonder what will distinguish J’s second grade year?

Thinking of my second grade year brings me back to the place I spent most of my childhood. My family moved a lot, but when I think of being a kid, I always think of The Orchard. For five interesting years, my family lived on 12 acres of rows and rows of citrus trees right smack in the heart of Phoenix. I was blissfully unaware that we were surrounded by a serious ghetto where gang violence would occasionally send bodies floating down the irrigation canal near our property. Instead, we lived in a haze of orange blossom heat alongside another family with playmates about the same ages. We had our Barbies, tree forts, wild king snake pets and a good roof to watch the famous desert sunsets. We ran from vicious roosters and rode our ponies down to the Watering Hole after a stop at Circle K for some Bottlecaps. It was kind of idyllic on the surface, I’d say.

My first memory of tragedy was here when a nearby neighbor’s house burnt down with two little boys inside. Their mom left them home alone when the house caught on fire. I’m sure my childhood recollections of the event have become more dramatized over the years, but the image of their charred house with the mattress spring skeleton in their room will always haunt me.

We were often encouraged to go play outside. I’m sure most of the motivation for us to get out and explore was to preserve my mom’s sanity. Homeschooling eight kids was probably not an easy task (Gosh, you’re kind of my hero, Mom)! I think this period in my life is what has fostered my craving for nature to feel like a real person. My soul eats up fresh air and natural beauty.

I’m seeing my kids getting older and it makes me wonder what story they will tell in the years to come. It makes me reflect on my own story and why I’m feeling a need to connect with it so badly these days. I guess I think I never have one until I start adding it all up. Most of it has been really good… most of it. And the bad? I guess I don’t have a memory for it. It’s there and sometimes it hurts, but I’m really pretty darn satisfied.

Stories: the common threads that run through us all and the obvious differences that make us all so unique. Isn’t this why we love music? Monster ballads and sad country songs… the occasional instrumental that strikes just the right chord without saying a word. I have a running soundtrack that obviously changes with the chapters in my life.

Brian and I now are both really loving the new Arcade Fire album, both the sounds and the lyrics I think are very resounding for people of our generation. Coincidentally, my sister sent me this link this morning. I entered in my old Phoenix address. Kind of eerie to see the trees here erupting out of the actual earth I used to play on…. how full circle. These days, The Orchard has been plowed and The Suburbs have been placed on my hallowed ground, but the fruit is still growing inside me and the white-painted branches I used to swing my legs off of are entwined in the towering spruce trees that my kids now run beneath.

What’s your story?

…here’s my Wilderness Downtown video, if you want to see more of mine. And thanks for the link, Emily. Your angelic face here makes me remember all the times we must have driven Mom crazy and then played stupid. And she still loves us!