Saturday, August 23, 2008

i am home.

and despite the immaculate house and well-nourished and rested child, (which obviously proves that I am not needed), it's wonderful.

annaliese is practically GROWN, but it's wonderful.

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

tomorrow, i go to columbus. for 48 hours. by myself.

Some pics (and fingers) (and tomatoes) to chew on:

Danielle really was here, y'all. And despite the baby's eyes, they really did have fun.

though perhaps not QUITE as much fun as one of Mama's Green Zebra tomatoes, plucked from the fruit bowl instead of the pear.

It really doesn't get more fun than that.
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Sunday, August 17, 2008

Sunday morning is here again.

The child is on the rug in the living room, rocking back and forth with her hands in the air-- oh, she's clapping now, and singing, ahhhhh, ooohhhh, aahhhhhhhooooo, and then breathing audibly. She has some spitup on her chin, and she is the cutest thing I've ever seen.

It has been a tumultuous two weeks here at the Ponder. Deadlines and clock-watching and fatigue and exorbinant quotes from tradespeople. Our two projects-- the house and the building-- have seemed particularily overwhelming, and our time together is never long enough.

I have been praying about it, in between the hand-wringing. We'll see where that leads.

I write a bimonthly column for the newspaper in the o-town and this was published last week. SO many people seemed to get a kick out of it that I thought I'd post of for y'all (and For K., who has not read it yet).

I have taken a hiatus from novel #3 to work on a book of essays and this is one of them.

Bovine Ambition

Outside my study window lives the only sign of my agricultural ambitions: a fifteen by twenty plot of raised beds, including a pre-existing boxwood, and forty-one heirloom tomato plants.

Thirty-nine, come to think of it. The blight got two that I ripped out yesterday.

I am twenty-five years old and there are days when I want nothing more than to rise at dawn, don overalls, and pad forth from my sleeping family to go deal with chickens, fruit trees, a vegetable garden, and yes, a cow. A milk cow, to be exact.

Somehow, the whole town knows of my ambitions. Yesterday at the farmers' market, the husband of an acquaintance asked me how my pursuit of cow-dom was going."It'd have to be a commuter cow," I began. "We need at least three acres, what with the soil being unreliable down here."

His eyes glazed over so I cut to the chase: "I want one. But not now. Not until we can have one on our own land."And then I sighed and said, "but it sure is tempting."

What kills me is that nearly everyone in my life seems to be set up to have a family milk cow: my mother-in-law. My sisters-in-law. My mother, with seventy acres, could have a whole HERD. Instead, she lets three unridden horses wander around inside the fencing. She calls them her lawn ornaments.

(But at least my mother uses milk on her granola. Kagan's parents? Soy milk all the way. His mom makes cornbread with soy milk. Did God send us a bean so that we could make milk with it? I don't think so.)

When I tell people I want a cow, I get two responses: from non-farmers, polite confusion, and from former dairymen, pursed lips and a wagging of the head.

"They're work," one said. I may not have ever had a cow, but I understand that they don't involve chaise longues and bon-bons.

My grandfather is the only one who seems to understand. "I'd get up every morning and milk the cow before work," he told me over the phone, and breathed steadily for several seconds. He is ninety, and his cows are long gone. "It was nice," he said, and then paused. "It felt like I'd really done something."As if his desk job with the Department of Agriculture didn't count.

But though I am cow-less myself, I know what he means-- because of Saturdays. Saturdays I keep farmers' hours.

Because Kagan works for all day on his renovation project downtown, I am free to commit my day to whatever project I can dream up. This year, I am rising at five to bake miniature baguettes that I sell for a dollar off my card table under the magnolia tree at the farmers' market.

As a farmers' market aficionado, I've been to quite a few. Salmon quesadillas in Anchorage; goat cheese and bread in Silver Spring.Water Valley's is much different, and yet, I love it. Fiercely.I love the homemade sandwich sign that anounces the market; I love the early-morning bustle and then the long slip into late morning. I even kind of love that I'm the only one growing heirloom tomatoes; everyone else is stuck on the Boys (Big and Better).I make my baguettes because it satisfies something in me to sit beneath the magnolia tree in the company of farmers. Last week I made eighteen dollars.

I'm doing it again this week.

When a retired dairyman tells me that cows are work, I believe him. But so are my Saturdays, and I love them.

So if we ever have enough acreage, I'll get Kagan to build me a little barn and throw up some fence. "Someday," I've been known to sigh. "Someday, I'll get me a cow."

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Anika's in Zanzibar

And she started a blog. I've linked to it on the left.

Child Update:

Fourth pediatrician visit on Monday.

Weight: 17 lbs 10 oz.
Length: 26 and 3/4 inches.
Head size: Still big.
Overall: "The picture of health."

Thank God.

Saturday, August 09, 2008

After a long hard week, this Saturday has been like a present. The weather is delicious summery the way summer should be, with that faint harbinger of fall in the air. We slept with the screen doors open and the ac off last night...And Annaliese, after a remarkably grumpy week, is cooing on the rug before me and playing with a bowl, a comb, and the dog, rocking back and forth and trying to pluck strands of the rug up. Not to mention Danielle is here and so I have both good company and someone to hold the baby.

There was a fab F Market this am. I didn't bake this week... just sat under the magnolia tree and watched young moms and families and old people walk through, stopping to chait and make plans for the future. It is such a good thing, this market, and it feeds my soul like church does, only I get to wear a t-shirt and run my mouth for 3 hours.

Last night, we learned that Annaliese likes penne. Pretty cute huh?

And I took this one about five minutes ago. Check out the shiny eyes...and the teeth! She's flashing them!

Happy Saturday, all.

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Monday, August 04, 2008

It's the dog days of August

The biggest news around here is we've ordered half a hormone/antibiotic-free hog, running around one county over today, to be slaughtered tomorrow, to be delivered to us in nice neat packages of bacon and mild sausage and chops on Friday.

We're pretty excited.
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Friday, August 01, 2008

The biggest news EVER

No, it's not the adorable highchair that hangs off the table and allows Annaliese to eat as part of the family.

Yesterday, Annaliese was on my lap at work, chewing on my finger, when suddenly I felt something besides gum. Yep, that's right... little A had a tooth! And by the afternoon, the other one had popped through!!!!

I am so, so, so proud.
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