Wednesday, June 22, 2011

It's Time

Well friends, the time has come for me, like it does for so many women of my generation and vague humanities related skill set.

The time has come in which I must decide to either become a wedding photographer (too many working weekends), train to be a doula (um.. do you have a placenta encapsulater I can borrow?) or....

Open an Etsy shop.

That's right ya'll. I did it.

Get ready to watch my massive customer base bring paypal to its knees.

But seriously though... maybe you could take a look?

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

grandad owl and shawn

My dad flying rubberband planes with Jane.

Ben chomps on his first cherry tomato and sprays everyone in a 2 ft. radius. It turns out he really loves tomatoes. Which is handy, because there were a whole lot of them.

Wren waits for Grandad Owl to wind the plane.

Jane and one of her many beloved babies.

My dad shells a record basket of butter beans from the garden.

We all sat around the table and shelled and shelled, and Chase said later he was so disappointed when he realized we were having gumbo for dinner and no fresh butter beans.

That's why I let it slide when I realized he had an extra helping of crab in his gumbo. Sometimes everybody needs an extra claw.

Monday, June 13, 2011

village creek

The creek was as low as I've seen it. And more impressively, as low as my dad has ever seen it. We left the canoe at home and walked across, carrying the babies. It was a lovely day, but I hope the creek (and the rest of Texas) gets some water soon.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

splash park

I've been trying to figure out how we're going to survive this summer. Traditionally, the way to survive summer in Texas involves moving as quickly from air conditioning to submerged-in-water as possible. But that's not really doable right now.

Wren is semi-drownable, Jane is totally drownable and Ben of course is just slightly too weighted down by his diaper ballast to be buoyant. That's too many to keep from drowning at a time. In a swimming pool I look sort of like the last scrap of floating cabinetry on the Titanic- swarming third class passengers slugging it out to get a better grip.

My mom thinks these splash pads in city parks, taking the place of pools, are another scourge of our godless (poolless) generation. Signs of the decline of civilization. When she was little and pools closed, it was because of polio, or segregation fights...not because kids were big pussies who didn't know how to swim.

I bet, though, that for a week this summer when SHE has to keep these limpets from drowning, she's going to change her mind about that.

I think the splash pads are AWESOME. Because I get to sit on a blanket with Ben and, other than occasionally shepherding someone to the bathroom and helping them wash their hands, I remain remarkably dry. AND! No one grabs me by the throat in terrified desperation of going under and strangles me.

If only there was a frozen margarita stand... And maybe some chips and salsa or something? No? Oh well.

I think we're ready for summer.

Friday, June 3, 2011


Today is my sister's birthday. She is an amazing lady.

Certified wilderness medicine rescuer. (Almost) certified NOLs rafting guide. Nomad. Vagabond. Wearer of holey pants over high end silk long underwear.

She got a broke ass ancient Bronco, pulling a homemade trailer, from Wyoming to Texas, with the drive shaft held on by baling wire. She says things like "The brakes went out coming over the pass, but I still had the parking brake so I kept going..."

She is a rafting guide in the summer and an ice climber in the winter. A free climber, a trad climber... other kinds I'm sure I don't want to know about. She buried her beloved dog, by herself, on the Wyoming tundra. Breaking ice to dig, and "facing West because Lola always loved the sunset."

She rappelled down a mountain with a baby goat zipped into her North Face jacket. She set her clothes on fire to scare off a mountain lion while illegally camping in a national park. She raced her sailboat, flipped it, and came out of the water laughing about it. When we were little, she cut my hair in my sleep because I put my snake in her bed.

One time she was watching the kids for a couple hours, and when we got home she had sanded and stained our kitchen table.

If she has enough money to buy human food or dog food, guess who's going to be hungry?

If something is easy, you can be absolutely 100% sure Anne will find a hard way to do it. But she'll still do it.

She has a toolbox with hacksaws and plumb bobs and awls, as well as, of course, baling wire.

If she's standing at an intersection in Austin, there's a 50% chance someone's going to pull over and give her some change.

She also makes really great biscotti, and herb bread. And she brought me a package of wild hog meat yesterday, and then cooked it while we were out.

She never met a distressed animal that didn't follow her home. Including rabid tomcats and fox kits. When we were little she taught our parakeet to tightrope walk.

She's the kind of person who, when they come to visit you, leaves all their stuff on the couch and disappears, and then you get a text at night that says "camping on the Comal."

Of course, she's also the kind of person you can call when you need help, and she'll hitchhike to your house, or scam a bus pass, or just walk, but she'll get there. And you can pay her for babysitting in chocolate milkshakes.

And you know, someone saw her kayaking on the Comal the other day and offered her a job, as a kayaking guide.

By the way, if anyone likes the look of this LOVELY moneypit vintage Bronco, dead parked in front of my house... make my sister an offer.

But be generous. It's her birthday!

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Our Apple

It's dance recital season, ya'll. If you know a little person who likes to dance, you have very likely gone to one of these or are planning on going.

I can tell you, even with a poopy baby on my lap, it was a damn good time.

Wren was an apple, a very important narrative element from the Wizard of Oz (yeah I didn't remember them either). She and her troop of fellow apples tapped Dorothy along the yellow brick road and it was totally awesome.

We were so proud of her for practicing (sort of) hard and for being so brave in front of a seriously huge audience.

Since she was backstage she only got to see the one dance right before the apples, so we're going to try to borrow a DVD so she can watch the whole thing. Tapestry did an amazing job of fitting in all the different classes and skill levels and keeping the whole thing actually really entertaining for the audience. I was completely floored by the skill level of the senior dancers- not a new feeling for me. I am generally in a low-level state of awe at the relative coordinatedness of my fellow humans, compared to my total lack.

All that to say, it was awesome and we're proud of Wren. And Jane came away impressed by the green witch and the flying (tapping) monkeys, of course.