Thanksgiving Prep

Lots of Family,

 A heap of cuteness,

A pinch of the littlest things,

A dash of relaxation,

Serve well done to those near and far,

Voila! It's near time. Happy Thanksgiving.

We're in charge of appetizers this year and a popular request for Jake's Dutch Oven Turkey.
YummmmmMMMmMMMmmm.

Head Honchos

First day of school is so exciting. And we certainly weren't late for it.

 Now we are into the new routine and not without the quarrels over clothes that I'm guessing are inherent...  she's the boss. Sometimes I'm the boss. Danielle gets to be the boss also, and Lucy could master anyone with a glance and toothless grin. (Oh, ya. Him. Dad is the head of all honchos around here but you could imagine how that actually works.)

 Anyway, she said she wanted dresses. So that's what most days of the week you'll find her sporting. (The opposite of me so I'm a little confused but nonetheless impressed.)

 And she's enjoying everything else about school. More an adjustment on the social end than the educational. At Parent Teacher Conferences (Am I old and mature enough to go to "Parent Teacher Conferences?!?!") I was prepared with questions and really enjoyed the visit. AllieCat has great penmanship.

 She is a little leader in her class, I was told. And helps set a positive tone.

Though if there is something bugging her, the antidote is holding the very pleasant Baby Lucy who resides at our home...because she's Master of all ceremonies.

And middle sis is happy being Alpha during her own time now, excelling in her own ways. Signing everything "De." Also great penmanship. And looks at you with wide eyes because after that, well, we all know she's Supreme.

We are quite the sight, if you ask me.
We have our moments.
Being the Honorary head honcho to three caballeros amazonas under six...
(I'm still learning, feeling correction, and being led too.)
*Let's ride.*

Garden Wrap-Up 2012

I wasn't so great gardening this year because, well. It was "too hot" and I was "too round." I was only suitable for flipflops and tees, not gardening scrub. Way too ambitious. But hey, the sun still managed to stamp me in the very lowest part of my back for what little work I did bend over to do, so I'm officially done.

In all fairness, I was good about watering. It is the golden rule to water everything "deep and infrequently." Also easy mantra when I'm standing out there spraying the same blueberry bush for a couple of minutes... because I'm shoving all its delicious berries in my mouth that the girls missed. And everything else can wait. (Are you imagining me this gestatious pregnant forager, meandering out in my back yard yet? That part was fun.)

And I helped provide to the group-- maintenance on the play set.

But anyway, what they say is true: growing your own is so much better....
Honestly I thought that's what they were saying because of the hard work, which brings the satisfaction, Victory Garden, yada etc... but really the produce is more tasty, full, juicy, intensely flavored, essentially sweet and warmed by the sun without packaging, handling or waiting on transport. Mmmm. It's just the way it is. Never forget.

We ate so much more this year (the raspberries are established and I've gotten the hang of the Square Foot method) and shared it. I even bartered it for raw cow's milk on the next road over yonder which I totally and highly recommend.

I grew zinnias from seeds. The brussel sprouts took over the world. The pumpkins-trained-in-a-small-space idea worked well. Naysayers be warned.

But the award for best squash goes to: you guessed it! The volunteer jack-o-lanterns circa 2011, out in the compost pile. The biggest was basketball size and with a large nail stuck in it because it grew under the edge of the friggen fence. Dang it... Additionally it grew the best zucchini and summer squash--completely unattended--under my capable hands. And lest we all forget, said pile grew awesome voluntary potatoes tossed out from Costco year before last. I need to get better at actual composting.  I've said that already. I'm trying vermiculture, 2013.

What naturally likes the warmth didn't grow well beyond what was in the hothouse. None of the pickings ripened in time. (Next year, protect plants from ocean or mountain breezes. Okay? Okay. I've said that before, too.)

This thing on the deck was over ripened by the time I remembered to find it. Oop.

Presenting the Last of the Last. And the tomatoes were a treat. I saved some seed to grow more heirlooms next year.

Now. Everything can melt. Which also means, beginning in this, 2012

it's time to Fish.