Nana's slice of Heaven

Sometimes I think that Heaven is a slice of the perfect chocolate cake.

But in the third week of May, Heaven was in North Carolina, where I was spending time with the three little southerners. 

I left home at 4 o'clock in the morning on May 14th and made it (with my two suitcases full of clothes for the littles and carry-on full of my clothes) to long-term parking and then to the airport itself in good time, only to find out that the flight was delayed for a couple of hours due to the plane arriving from Denver (where they had a foot of snow) being delayed. This meant I would miss my connecting flight at Chicago Midway, but I managed to get a later one booked and, when I asked the ticket agent if she thought it would work out okay, she assured me that she was "absolutely sure that I would have no problem in Chicago." 

That could go down as the most famous last words ever. We were re-routed to St Paul, Minnesota on the way to Chicago, where we sat for several hours wondering what the heck was going to happen to us. There was a small incident in Chicago (just a little smoke) that shut down traffic at both of the Chicago airports for several hours, effectively disrupting traffic across the whole country. 

I won't bore you with the whole story, but it was a horrible day for everyone, like those awful stories you see on the news in the winter where airports are full of people being stranded for days. I was lucky enough to make it to Annie's place at 4 o'clock the next morning, but she had to drive almost seven hours round trip to pick me up in Charlotte. 

The next morning, the parents left on a much-needed holiday while I held down the fort for a few days until Jeff arrived on Friday evening. Here's a smattering of photos from the week.

Elsie was preparing for a dance recital. Victoria puked all over herself and her car seat just before we pulled up to the dance studio, so that was fun. Hence the lack of clothes.

Somebody was fighting sleep. And it wasn't me!

Elsie and Gabe love to play the piano together. Elsie can turn right to her favourite songs. It's kind of freaky, considering she can neither play the piano nor read.

We gave the kids Radio Flyer tricycles a few months ago (thank you, Amazon) and I loved watching them riding up and down the path. Elsie is a vision in pink.

I took some bags of Annie's organic graham teddy bears with me for treats, and sometimes we just sat and ate them.

And one night we had cookies and milk for dinner.

Yes, we did.

Several times, we all piled into the stroller (except for me) and went for a walk.

One afternoon, we were very excited when a convoy of helicopters kept flying around in formation. The house is fairly close to Fort Bragg. Look at this beauty.

The older two loved all the clothes I took for them. I bought them all used through a facebook page to which I belong. One day, we had an impromptu fashion show.

Aunty Jenny sent some music CD's that had books with them, and Elsie sat and listened to every one of them, accompanied sporadically by her younger siblings.

Is this not one of the cutest smiles you have ever seen?

Nana and Papa only lasted through half of the dance recital (a sad habit of ours, but what can you do when they last for three or more hours?) so we took the younger two home for the duration. Edwin was jealous! 

Here we are, saying goodbye.

The kids like to dance before bed while Annie plays something like "The Spinning Song" for them.

Annie took us to the park on base the day before we left. The kids had a blast. I was tired.

Victoria loves to swing and sits all the way up the front of the swing and wiggles her legs with glee.

Elsie is fearless and climbed the whole caterpillar, or whatever it is. Luckily, I took some little shorts for her to wear under her skirts, 'cause that girl loves her Janie and Jack outfit.

Gabe is smaller and couldn't quite make the whole climb on his own, but he still thinks he's pretty cool.

We stopped to see the planes.

And then it was time to say goodbye.

That face, I just want to cover it with kisses. All the time.

The plane ride home was uneventful, thankfully, and, even though Jeff and I were on different airlines and left from different airports, we arrived at PDX within minutes of each other.

And now I am missing them.

Lego mania

I find the Lego phenomenon to be quite interesting. If you do a quick Google, you can see grown people who own thousands of Lego bricks and spend every spare moment designing and building their creations. There are movies, theme parks, clubs, robots, magazines, video games, and more things Lego than I will ever see in my lifetime.

And cakes.

This may not be the worst ever Lego cake, but I have Googled them and it is in the top 10. 

Little Jeff turned seven this week and his mom, of course, is throwing him the party of the century right at this very moment. She asked me to make the cake and I happily assented. "How hard can a Lego cake be," I foolishly thought to myself.

Well, let me tell you.

It was not easy.

I probably put four hours into the creation. Luckily, each brick improved upon the last, learning as I went along. And I am on my second load of dishes in the dishwasher.

What I want to know is, who is it that writes all the logos on each little Lego brick?

Whoever is is, they don't get paid enough.

I was very relieved to deliver this, while dodging large raindrops, to the party venue, only ten minutes late. I said to Jeff (the big one) when I got home, "Why do I always time things to the last minute? Do you remember when I used to be frantically hemming the prom dress when the date arrived to pick up our daughters?" "Yes, I do," he replied. "Why didn't you just buy the prom dress?"

He forgets the extreme cost of a ready-made prom dress, along with the fact that you can't find a modest prom dress this side of Utah.

Wait. Where was I? 

Oh yes. Lego cake.

I remember some school friends owning Legos when I was growing up in England. I thought they were the best things ever and I wanted some of my own. Did you know that Lego is a Danish company and the word is an abbreviation of "leg godt," which means "play well." The company was founded in 1932 and is now owned by a grandchild of the founder. 

The Lego brick as we know it today was created in 1958, which means that I encountered it in its infancy. This is a good link to the history of the toy, if you are interested.

Legos are hardy, you can mix and match them, they foster the imagination, and they don't have large boobs and tiny waists, like some other iconic toys.

We have a big bin of them in our family room and they more than earn their floor space. 

So I say Long Live Legos! 

Happy May!

I love this time of year, when everything "comes up roses" with very little effort or thought on my (the gardener's) part. I wandered around the garden and immediate neighbourhood the other afternoon and took some photos, looking for the bits of beauty that were everywhere.

I have been waiting for these lily-of-the-valley bulbs to flower for several years and this year they finally came through. I love them.

When we built this house 26 years ago, one of the first trees we bought was a pink dogwood. It turned out to be a big disappointment, with insipid blooms that opened after the leaves sprouted, and it never inspired devotion. So, a few years ago, we replaced it with a Japanese maple tree, which turned out to be a much happier planting.

I was very glad when our neighbours planted this gorgeously dark pink dogwood tree right in front of their house so that I could enjoy it. I know they did it just for me! It is a beauteous sight every April.

And I snuck this shot of a forget-me-not in their flowerbed, just because I have always enjoyed their unassuming little flowers.

Pink hardy geranium, a trusty bloomer.

Our lilac met the same fate as our dogwood (bad shrubbery behaviour will not be tolerated in the Osborne garden) but this one is at the house on the corner and seems to be very contented.

I've been having a love affair with huechera lately. They are a reliable pop of colour almost all year long.

Don't know what this is, but it's in one of my flowerbeds so I must have planted it. 

My friend Lori gave me a bagful of bluebells last year and I am enjoying their blooms this year. There are white, blue, and lilac-coloured flowers.

This bed of hostas is one of my most well-behaved parts of the garden.

Well done, hostas! 

Grape flowers. I love the hint of red in the leaves.

I managed to keep the blueberry bushes alive another year. I think their their little blossoms are adorable.

The scarlet rhubarb stalks are just begging to be picked and turned into something yummy.

The berry vines are rampant this year. These are raspberries.

The marionberry buds are very different to the raspberries.

The kiwis are putting on lots of flowers. They still haven't produced any fruit, but I now know how to tell a male from a female flower, so this year I will be able to tell if we have two of the same sex, which would explain the dearth of fruit.

Hints of strawberries of summer.

This isn't a great photo, but I love this huechera flower, also known as coral bells, because hummingbirds visit them in the evening and I adore them.

These irises are outside the senior centre. I won't have them in my garden because of how much space the greenery takes up all year long, but I like to admire them in other gardens.

Nothing could be finer than Oregon in the springtime!

Real food

I have always loved chicken.

I also love chickens, but that's another matter.

I remember as a child, cleaning off the chicken carcass until there was not a scrap of meat left. Dad always said we didn't need a dog in the house because we had me. I just loved meat that much. Pork crackling, chicken skin, the parson's nose, beef gristle, tongue, you name it, I slurped it up. Except for innards. I have never done innards. 

And today, my dad would be proud.

Having bought three (!) Costco rotisseried chickens on Good Friday, I was left with massive amount of which to dispose after the feast. Bethany nabbed one of the carcasses to make stock (after telling me I should clean off all the meat because she wouldn't) (but she makes her mama proud nevertheless) and I decided to try canning some good homemade stock from the other two. 

Jeff was out of town for most of last week, so I ate leftovers until Thursday, and after that I couldn't make another bite of mashed potato and chicken go past my lips.

I just couldn't.

So I threw the carcasses and some leftovers veggies and an onion into the stockpot and boiled it all for about 24 hours. The plan was to be brave and can up the stock on Friday, but the day got away from me. We were heading to the beach for a bit of a relax, so I got it all ready and put it back in the fridge.

I arose this morning and knew I was doomed to face the pressure cooker today. I could procrastinate no longer. Fear was in my heart, as it always is when I contemplate using the beast.

But darned if I didn't get it done, after talking to a couple of friends and Google and reading the manual.

And look what's sitting on my kitchen counter while seven more bubble away in the canner and Crystal Gayle plays on the stereo.

I think they are purely beautiful.

And with a bit of extra stock and some carrot water and the last of the mashed potatoes and carrots, I made some soup which I ate for lunch and will eat for lunch again tomorrow.

The only thing that would make it better is if I could share a bowl with Dad.

Easter came and went....

...and all that's left are the Cadbury mini-eggs and Lindt bunnies that I nabbed from the post-holiday sales.

Oh, and the memories. Mustn't forget the memories!

I was busy in the kitchen most of the day, so photos are sporadic. Luckily, I thought to send Jenny outside with my camera during the hunt.

I found a lady who was making these minion crocheted egg covers for only $2 each, so I had her make up seven different ones. They were a bigger hit than I expected. I love it when the grandkids are thrilled with little things.

Kenzie spent the first half of the weekend helping me make peanut butter eggs to put inside them. They were awfully yummy, covered in dark chocolate and less sweet than the Reese's variety, which I can hardly eat any more. I even came up with a peanut/milk-free version for Josh, using tahini and chocolate soy butter.

I know, I'm perfectly brilliant. 

Bethany has taken over the responsibility for the egg hunt, and Jeff and Chris hid the eggs. Madelyn got to find some eggs before the general melee of the other six hitting the turf. I think she quite enjoyed it! 

She had missed her nap and was on the grumpy side, hence the binkie in the mouth.

Desperate times call for desperate measures!

Don't you love the looks of longing on the faces of the older kids?

Pardon the brown, dead grass. The lawn and I had a long conversation about its proliferation of dandelions and rogue grasses, and the lawn lost.

There commenced an overabundance of sugar inhalation.

Before dinner.

Stickiness and elation abounded.

It was better than Halloween. 

I had the ingenious idea of buying Costco rotisserie chickens for dinner, which worked out rather well. I bought them on Friday and they reheated wonderfully. Cheaper, easier, and more delicious than just about anything.

These are some bug-shaped gluten/dairy-free rolls I made for Josh and Bethany.

I'm getting the hang of this stuff.

Hope your Easter celebration was full of good memories.