Mystery Object of the Day: Pulsar

This is a great picture of a pulsar. Look at the sunspots and the complex inner structure. You can actually see the radiation pouring off in waves from the burning hot center sun.

Ok, maybe not. But the pot is almost clean! This is what happens to me when I try to cook elaborate birthday dinners while 'watching' two toddlers and a baby. Hmmm...to be fair.... This is what happens more often now that I have to watch two toddlers and a baby. And why one of the first things we vow that will be installed in the kitchen in the "New Minnesota House" is a good hood over the stove that vents to the outside. Whoever decided that a dinky, greasy fan under the microwave with a carbon filter in it would be great for mitigating billowing smoke obviously didn't try it. And didn't have two two year olds running around with their hands over their ears in the midst of the fire alarm yelling, "Too Loud! Too Loud! Too Loud!"

The chicken stew that I made for the birthday pot pie was one of the most well-balanced, complex, delicate flavored stews I had ever made. That is, before I turned up the heat slightly to thicken it for a minute. I may have forgotten the stew a little between entertaining the twins, Sam crawling at my feet, drying meringue cake layers, rolling out the pot pie dough, baking cake, whipping butter for icing, and melting various mint candies and chocolates. After emergency chicken stew first aid (for extreme burnt overtones), it was a very hardy, robust, richer stew but with a lot less of that complex flavor. Luckily the birthday guy didn't notice...

Biscuit the Cat vs. Fire Engine

Sam learns the 'uh-oh' game, aided by two exuberant brothers...

Proper Use of the Play Table

Back to the Plains Part III: Take Junk. Put in Box. Repeat.

With only three weeks to close, we decided (of course) to go to an airshow that weekend. It was at Jefferson County Airport and we had a ton of fun with airplanes, fire trucks, ambulances, and all sorts of fun stuff. Then, we went hiking in Boulder. The next week I didn't really feel like packing. Who does, anyway? We were busy having fun. That next weekend-- we went camping up in Wyoming. Yup, can you say procrastination?

So on Monday morning I finally tried to be realistic. It was now June 16th, 10 days from closing. I had a full house full of junk, a basement full of junk, a yard full of junk, and a storage locker (you guessed it) full of junk. Maybe it was time to start packing? (Duh!) So I began, packing what I could when the kids were awake and working like crazy moving boxes during naptime and when I had help watching the twins.

As the week wore on, I realized two things: First, I could use a little help as we needed to get a LOT done this last weekend. Second, wow, we owned a TON of stuff. I began throwing things away right and left. Mike emptied out the storage locker into our backyard and garage. I disassembled my prized workbench (it's such a behemoth it can't be even shoved once it's assembled) and began stacking boxes in the garage. Aunt Karen volunteered to come out for the second time in a month to help pack for the weekend, and Matt and his girlfriend Angie volunteered to come out and help us load the truck and drive back. Things were coming together. I even managed to entertain the twins in the backyard with new toys: a kayak and a windsurfer.

Aunt Karen arrived and saw what I had done in just four days; I had organized and boxed up most of the bedrooms, the bathrooms, all the closets, the living room, the books, and the basement. Only the garage and kitchen to go! "Wow. You got a lot done. What do you want me to do?" asked Karen, wondering exactly why she flew out to help. "The Kitchen, " I said, "I've been avoiding it." Karen looked at it skeptically. I could see her calculating about two, maybe four hours tops to carefully pack the kitchen. I had a fuzzy recollection of endless packing of kitchen items when we moved from California, but I like the optimist approach. I thought, cool, she must be right and we'll be hiking by evening.

The day packing stretched on. Evening came, then the next morning. The next afternoon. Wow. Where did all this stuff come from? I get discouraged and decide to pack the garage for a break. Mike tries to pack in the kitchen. Evening comes again. I get done packing the whole garage. I sneak back inside. Unfortunately, they are still packing the kitchen. Karen now understands, I have a LOT of junk in my kitchen.

Eventually, we call it good enough for now. We're out of boxes. Time to go hiking. After all I need to leave a couple dishes out. Next week I've planned two dinner parties before we close on Thursday, against the prudent advice of everyone I've talked to. I don't care, I think it will be fun to have the my friends over, and anyhow, I'm nuts! My husband agrees. ;)

(Biscuit supervising the packing)

(Sam in the midst of a really big mess)

The Birds and the Bunnies

"Mommy. Mommy! Look what I made. The bird is hatching out of the egg! Like the bunnies do!"

Today, it's a Blue Kayak

Chocolate with Carmel Buttercream

I went upstairs this morning with Sam to get the boys clothes. It was really, really quiet. This is why-- they found the cookies I made the night before for Dad's 'snack day' at work and decided to get the stool and help themselves.

The dangers of good oral hygiene

I was sleeping, and it was warm, and fuzzy, and really, really good. I was generally aware of Baby Sam sleeping still in our room. I also knew Patrick and Isaac woke up right before Dad left and were playing quietly downstairs. But I love sleeping and if all's well... From the edge of consciousness, I heard a Patrick voice, "Mommy? Mommy?" (Mommy doesn't move...) "I need a drink of water. The dental floss is too spicy." Uh oh.

We stock mint dental floss in our house. I try a quick fuzzy calculation: How much mint dental floss do you have to have in your mouth before it gets 'too spicy'? I remember little details: my dentist appointment the other day, the container of dental floss lying on the counter. Patrick finds my big water bottle and takes a long drink, then scampers off. Sam hears Patrick and I can see his head poke up above the crib rail like a rabbit. "Dab dah? Bahb dahb da dah!" says Sam, babbling and grinning. I grin back. It's hard to be too cranky when Sam wakes up bobbing like that.

Downstairs I find Patrick with a string of dental floss. He's trying to hide it under the coffee table. I pull the string and follow it around the table around Isaac, around several cars, around the couch, all the way across the room. We find the empty container, talk about asking before playing with Mommy's things, and I deposit the yards of dental floss in a big spaghetti pile in the middle of the kitchen table.

I forget about the dental floss until I go up to get clothes for the boys. I come down and Isaac yells, "Mommy, we're stuck!" The dental floss is wrapped around all three of them, and Paddy's still trying to pull it through his teeth. "All the boys are stuck," Isaac states. This time I'm brighter and the floss goes right in the garbage. Maybe, I think to myself, it's time to start flossing their teeth. After I buy more floss of course.