Seven Favorite Movie Quotes.

Rebecca tagged me on this a couple of weeks ago, but that's right before things got nuts around here. I'm going to do all of them from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, just because.

1. "Run Away, Run Away!"

2. "There are some who call me...Tim?" (I've always loved how he sounds like he's not quite sure about it.)

3. "It's only a flesh wound."

4. "How do you know he is a king?"
"Because he hasn't got **** all over him."

5. "Then shalt thou lobbest the Holy Hand Grenade at thy foe, who being not in my sight, shall snuff it."

6. This isn't a line per se, but I get a huge kick out of the bit in the Knights of the Round Table dance number, where they cut to the dungeon, and the guy hanging in chains is clapping to the beat.

7. "What, you mean behind the rabbit?"

In which our new camera ROCKS!

It is truly awesome. We need to take more pics of the older kids, but Ivy and Mags are cuting the heck out of us all day. Now we need to remember to make sure everyone IS wearing pants and NOT wearing snot crusts before we take more pictures. Hmm. I need to warn Liv not to make that face ever again. She thinks she has to strut her attitude in each snapshot. All of them look something like this. Also notice the fifty pound potato sack next to her chair. That's where it stays, 'cause we're fancy with storage around here.

The car situation is over and done with, and I must say, American Family was darn decent to deal with. They gave us a fair price for our totaled Volvo, paid for a rental car, replaced the girls' car seats, and Toby and I each got a check for pain and inconvenience that made up for the week of work we missed running about. Not bad, considering we've never had insurance cover an accident before now.

We used our loot to buy a 1995 Ford Van. Yeah, the big one. It seats eight right now, but if we get the rear seat for it, it'll seat twelve. Anybody need a ride? We were wondering if Barrett and Emma could park the Rabbit in it if we took the seats out. It'll be great for hauling bodices around.

Also, we went to visit my midwife for the first time, and the baby's ticking like it should, so everything there seems fine, too. That's a relief.

Not Again.

Olivia turned nine yesterday, and Ivy two today. I'm trying to remember to make a big deal out of it, at least for Liv. But I'm a little distracted by the fact that someone rear-ended our nice Volvo station wagon and mashed it into the car in front of us. We've had it maybe six months. It was a nice car, too. Sigh.

This situation is all too familiar. We've been through so many cars it's not even funny, and been involved in no less than five wrecks since we started having kids. None were our fault, and two drivers and one deer lacked insurance. It looks like the young guy that hit us has insurance, so if he does. bless his heart. We've been tentatively looking at full-size vans, not because we NEED one just yet, unless you count hauling a load of bodices and kids around the country. I'm just feeling like bigger is better, and vans are cheap these days.

I'll wait and see. In the meantime, I'm going to wrap the girls' presents and make sure everyone has decent clothes to wear to the school Christmas program this evening.

Where's the tape?

Hollis as an artistic little boy. His kindergarten teacher just couldn't stop saying how impressed she is with his drawing abilities and his attention span. We've all been complimenting him, and I think it's gone to his head.

The muse has turned to installation art. First, he decorated our front door with a wreath, some pumpkins, and ten spiders. In the MIDDLE of November, might I add.
Then, he brought a load of his school artwork home and taped it all over the kids' bedroom door. He also made a very impressive banner of his name to hang off the front of the bunk bed. I couldn't get a good picture of that, because it's in front of the window and I'm lazy.


Now, every time I turn my back, there's something new on the walls. He must have decided that we needed to have weaponry available quickly at all times, so he made wall holsters for the wooden sword and knife.I'm thinking to get the boy a roll of butcher paper and a six-pack of tape for Christmas.

Win this Corset!

My dear friend Lucy''s brother Jon and his wife Clara have a new baby girl named Josephine who was born with Trisomy 18. To read more about Trisomy 18 and Josephine, see Clara's blog. To help with her medical expenses, Lucy and her cousin are holding a benefit auction on Ebay. I'm donating a custom blue Vixen corset, so go check it out. It's a great deal on an awesome bodice, and you'll help a precious baby and her family. Neat, no?

The auction is here. Thanks!

Box 'em and ship'em.

Did you know that Ivy will fit into a box that originally held three yards of home-dec fabric?

I'm still trying to get up the nerve to buy some hooch to make my homemade vanilla (Mellie is the winner--Hey out there!) And by the way, if anyone out there hasn't seen Good Eats with Alton Brown, you are missing out. It's about my two favorite things: food and nerd. Toby and I have frittered away many a lazy hour watching AB make edibles on YouTube. It's kind of a bedtime ritual around here.

Oh, and if anyone out there went to school with Amanda H., you must read her sister Katie's Happy Birthday tribute. Just make sure you pee first. And don't be drinkin' milk, either.

I must add to that my own Amanda story. When she came home from her mission, she gave a talk in church. She was telling us about getting to the MTC and feeling like she shouldn't be there. Her specific words were: "SCREW the dang MTC, I'm going home!" The bishop's eyebrows shot up so high, I thought they would leave his head entirely. We miss you, Amanda, and Happy Birthday!

MMMmmmm...vanilla.

I found a seller on Ebay that's selling vanilla beans crazy-cheap. I am now the proud owner of a pound of vanilla beans for the price of about ten bought locally. This year for Christmas presents, I'll be making something with them. Stay tuned.

By the way, did anyone out there have Strawberry Shortcake dolls when small? Vanilla beans smell EXACTLY like a Strawberry Shortcake doll. The toy makers did a pretty good job of making the dolls smell lovely. It's very nostalgic for me.

For tomorrow, try to guess why a nice Mormon girl, or even a not-so-nice one, is planning to buy a lot of vodka!

Halloween in Fairview.

I love Halloween. Part of the reason we've enjoyed hanging out with Renfest types so often is because I love an excuse to dress up. Modern clothes can be cute and comfortable, but as for just killer STYLE, give me Victorian or Regency era any day. I'm a girl who wishes it was still required to wear hats when one leaves the house.

But Fairview is really killing my Halloween buzz. We didn't have plans for the big day, but made them fast when our first group of trick-or-treaters made an appearance. A group of punky fourteen to eighteen year old kids, without costumes, rang our doorbell and requested candy. One of them was actually SMOKING. Come on, kid. Unless you tell me you're Anthony Bourdain, no candy for you!

Just in case any of you were thinking of moving to Effing-view!

Land of the Midnight Vomit

Last night was the FOURTH night both Ivy and Maggie have been sick late at night. It's getting a bit tedious. They act just fine all day, then puke at about midnight. I am so behind with laundry right now, because I'm washing all the bedding in the house every day. And something in our bedroom smells like death, even though we've taken out the trash...I'm dreading that unpleasant discovery.

Now I must drag myself upstairs to sew some corsets so we can pay our bills.

Addendum: Source of death-smell found: dead mouse under computer desk.

Ahem.

Since we are no good at keeping secrets, I'll just throw it out there. We will be having a baby the end of June next year. We've told Livvie, so putting it on the internet is the other fastest way for word to get about.

Don't hate me, but I don't get uber-morning sick. I have brief but intense moments of nausea, which are trickiest when I'm trying to swallow a mouthful of food or brush my teeth. My thing is being sooo tired that I can fall asleep effortlessly, with all my clothes on, by just thinking about sitting down. I think I have pregnancy induced narcolepsy. I've slept two nights fully clothed, with my glasses on.

Did I mention what a hot man I married? The type who'll clean up nasty puke when I'm pregnant and gagging at the mere thought of vomit. We've had a nasty stomach making its way around the family, so he's done it about eight times in the last two days.

Haloween is nearly here.

...and I'm so tired of dealing with all the half-wits who waited until the Wednesday before a Friday Halloween to try and order something custom. COME ON, guys!

I love my customers.
I love my customers.
I love my customers.

Except for the "deleted" who thinks I can drop everything and run a bodice fifty miles to the nearest UPS store and pay twice the shipping, because her post office box is twenty miles away from her and she'd rather not drive that far. I just want to invent a new swear word for that one.

And the girl who wasted hours of our time asking questions she'd already had answered, if she'd read the Ebay listing or read the first two or three replies we sent her. We have a file with literally THIRTEEN messages from this chick, I kid you not.

And everyone who, instead of contacting us through the handy and easy Ebay message system, digs around on the internet, finds Michelle's e-mail account, and then asks her questions, thereby wasting her valuable time. This backwards method takes two or three days for us to get a message that we could have responded to the day it was made.

Just breathe....

If I've ever felt like Michelle was too stressed out by customers who are giving her family the money they need to survive, I am truly sorry. I am trying to remember that when a business gives me what I wanted in a timely fashion and it exceeds my expectations, I need to let them know. It gives me such a nice feeling when we get a message that says "Hey, I got my corset today and I LOVE it!" You sweet ladies out there, who are happy and let us know, sometimes you keep us going.

How not to can applesauce...

We in the McDonald house love our homemade applesauce. We've helped Toby's mom, Vea, make it a few times. But this was our first solo flight. Let's see what you think...

Step 1: Buy a bushel of apples at the orchard in Marionville. Eat all of them. By the way, #2 means seconds, not anything nasty. They're just the ugly apples, but they still taste great!

Step 2: Buy another bushel of apples. Eat half of them. Look at the rest for a week, saying, "We really need to make applesauce.

Step 3: CONSULT THE INTERNET. This step may take hours and consist of several distractions by the wonders of Ebay and The Black Apple. Finally, print a reputable-looking recipe.

Step 4: Wash canning jars and apples (separately). We have a great picture of Livvie back in the day, naked in Vea's sink full of applesauce apples. She sneaked into the sink when we were not paying attention. The applesauce was extra sweet that year.

Step 5: Realize I don't have enough lids. Run to the local Mennonite store and buy a dozen canning jar lids. Plus gummy fish for the kids. Plus white cheddar cheese powder, because, hey, I have to make the trip count.

Step 6: Quarter and cook apples.

Step 7: Run through applesauce mill. The kids are always very happy to help with this step. Note my swanky $4 Sqeezo mill. It came with both fine and coarse screens, so this year we're trying chunky sauce.

Step 8: Put hot applesauce in clean, sterilized jars. Realize that the water bath in my biggest kettle isn't deep enough for quarts.

Step 8.5: Chase down a naked, poopy Ivy who has shucked her diaper. Fix that. Wash hands obsessively.

Step 9: Run to Lucy's house to borrow her canners. Talk for 30-plus minutes--a very short visit!

Step 10: Water-bath for 30 minutes for quarts, 20 for pints. We made 8 quarts, plus two pints, plus whatever we ate while "tasting." It is lovely-good!

Step 11: Survey the damage to the kitchen. Go out for cheap pizza.

Breakfast of Champions?

I was feeling tired and nasty this morning, so Toby got the kids on the bus today. When he came back into our bedroom, he told me about Maggie's very specific breakfast request:

Toast with butter and cheese. (Because in this house we don't skimp on dairy!)
Carrot sticks and ketchup.

It's breaktacular!

It's Wed!

This is my little Margaret. She's named after my dear difficult Grandma. I should have seen that one coming. We did NOT get along for about the first two years of her life, due to her constant frustration and screaming no matter what I did. Ahem.

Now Maggie is a sweet funny little girl of three and a half, and we get along just fine. She's at that age where she says the goofiest things in the most adorable little-girl voice. Examples:

"Dad, did you hear that noise? It wasn't the storm-it was me burping."

Maggie, crying inconsolably, so I ask her what's wrong.
Mag: "Natalie said my hair was YEDDOW!"
Me: "What color is it?"
Mag: "It's WED!"
(I'll admit that I have wished her hair would darken up again, but it is a beautiful light strawberry blond.)

She likes to sing the ABC's while we're driving in the car. She's got them down, except for that tricky little fast "L-M-N-O-P." It usually sounds more like "M-M-M-O-P."

Right now, she's obsessed with the Disney Little Mermaid movie. She likes Ariel because "She has wed hair and a widdel nose." (like Maggie does.)

In Which I Become a Fashion Nerd

In one of my recent posts, I described myself as obsessive, especially about the costuming in movies I love. I have plans to complete a Regency (Jane Austen-era) ensemble for Toby and myself for Halloween. Because just strapping on a Damsel in This Dress Corset every year, while smoking-hot, is just too easy!

Ummm, I just got obsessed with a new period. Sunday night, whilst my hair was soaking in a henna paste that smelled like gingerbread, I stumbled across Ruby in the Smoke and Shadow in the North on Masterpiece Theater. The author of the books, Phillip Pullman, describes them as based on the "penny dreadful" style novel. I only saw the last half of the first, but was completely glued for the remainder.

I didn't care for Billie Piper in the M. P. version of Mansfield Park, but liked her in these movies. She was much more believable as anachronistically-emancipated Sally Lockheart than as quiet Fanny Price. And having loved JJ Feild as Mr. Tilney in Northanger Abbey, I was not going to mind him as Fred Garland.

But enough about the actors. Or the plot. Let's get to the costumes. I am not a Period Nazi--the term for all those holier-than-thou ren types who love to tell others why their clothes are not appropriate for the time. I much prefer a fun item of clothing that is inspired by the feel of a certain era in history. Because, let's face it, folks: unless you own sheep, are constantly spinning their wool, and weaving it into cloth, while processing flax into linen, and dying of the plague, IT IS NOT PERIOD. Don't we dress up for fun? I'm all about learning as much as possible about how things were done and why, historically.

But I digress. The awesomeness of this pinstriped jacket will hurt me until I try to make one. The stripes! The red tie! Must...buy...fabric....

Toby Thirty

This is Toby. I met him in high school and we were married when we were both nineteen, still kids, really. This picture says a lot about him. He's not afraid to wear an apron and make biscuits and use indecent amounts of butter. He has a spectacular and twisted sense of humor. And did I mention he's pretty dang hot and knows it? Toby turned thirty last Thursday, so Happy Birthday from your older woman.

In other news, I did some extracurricular sewing....for fun. I get sort of obsessive about things sometimes and if you read my last post you can probably guess what it is. I've been dying to make some Regency-era clothes for the fam, especially since I think Toby would be uber-sexy in a tail-coat and top hat and empire waisted dresses are made for busty girls like me. I started with the Sense and Sensibility Regency girl's dress pattern and made this for Liv. The fabric is so NOT period, but it is SO her:Pardon the crappy picture. I learned that the S&S girl's pattern runs small. I measured Liv and she was exactly the size eight on the envelope. However, it was so tight around her shoulders and chest that I couldn't put buttons on it and had to grommet the back so it will lace up. Then I had to add a modesty panel behind it so her back doesn't show.

Amiable?

Happiness is...curling up with my husband Friday night, with a long productive day behind us and watching Pride and Prejudice while eating homemade pizza. He liked it enough that Saturday night we stayed up until two watching all the rest of the movie. By the way, I had to look for a while to find a picture that wasn't huge Colin Firth, tiny everyone else. Not that I mind, but I liked this one better...

I've just been a fan of Jane Austen books and movies for the past two or three years. I thought they were romantic fluff for fluffy girls. This movie is won me over completely, and I've been just a tad bit obsessive in the last year, especially with Hen Day encouragement and Masterpiece Theater's excellent Austen-fest. The appeal is...well, the characters are so real and engaging. Elizabeth has a sense of humor about almost everything, Darcy is really a decent guy despite his arrogance. I love how Mr. Bennett maintains a steady laugh about all going on around him, from his silly wife to his shady son-in-law.

I've always had some difficulty accepting that the highest praise of character in Jane Austen novels is amiability. It compliments a sort of dull-witted, cow-like contentment in my mind. Of being too nice to cause any trouble. But I've been thinking about happiness a lot lately, because I think I am. Toby and I spend all day every day together, working at making corsets for Damsel In This Dress. And we're far from having nothing to talk about even though we don't have the conversations about how the day was spend at the end of it. Life is not easy or slow-paced. We've been putting in long days for the past month or two. Ivy is in that belligerent stage where amiability suddenly seems like a very desirable trait. And maybe some Regency dresses and tailcoats on the side!

Great carpet...

More Ivy again. The berber carpet in the kids' room is a darkish mix of gray, red, blue and green. I found this morning, after Ivy dropped her diaper...and several other...shall we say, "packages." I knew that I had not found all the mess, but it was so well hidden by the carpet. I found them by stepping in them, no less than SIX times.

Ivy-line

We've had quite the crazy week here. Toby and I have been scrambling to make extra money to pay our house payment, and get more materials, and re-establish our savings depleted during vacation. We've also been making a pile of Wench Corsets to send to Michelle and Tyler for their Fall Renaissance Fair season, so that they can concentrate on making the higher-dollar items.

I'm ashamed to say that the kids have been somewhat at their own devices quite frequently. We're not neglectful per se, just distracted. Mom and Dad came to see me on my birthday, and after letting themselves in, just started laughing. This is what they saw:Ivy had climbed onto the table and smeared a whole stick of softened butter all over herself and her little mushroom jacket. She was not very happy about it. For all she's a kid who loves to make a mess, she certainly hates to be messy...or dirty...or especially GREASY.

Today, Toby made macaroni and cheese for the herd for lunch. Inicientally, we had to substitute oil and buttermilk for the butter, which is all gone due to the butter body paining done earlier. It must wear her out to be a little beast all morning, since this is what happened when she sat down to eat it:

She's still asleep as we speak, and probably dreaming of mayhem.

Tagged!

THE RULES:
1. link the person who tagged you
2. post the rules
3. tell 6 unspectacular quirks of yours
4. tag 6 fellow bloggers by linking them

Rebecca at Marvelous Pigs in Satin tagged me on this one. My first!

2. Look up!

3. I freak out when I think people know what I'm thinking. Like I just chased Toby out of the room, because he might read this while I type it. I know communication is a good thing, but GET OUT OF MY HEAD! Oh, yeah, I guess a blog is somewhere for people to see inside my noggin, isn't it? And he also promised me he'd read it later anyway.

4. I try to only get out of bed when the clock stands at a multiple of five. Just another form of the snooze self-deception. It's just so warm and snuggly, and the house has been cool in the mornings lately.

5. I don't know enough people with blogs well enough to send links to this. Rebecca tagged me, and two of the others I know. So the chain ends with me, sadly. I observe, I don't interact.

6. I like to have a book within reach at all times. I love breast-feeding in part because there's not a whole lot else I can do, so I might as well read while I feed the baby. It's been a bit difficult to keep up with my reading, because I can't do it while sewing, but we've been listening to books on CD while we work. Right now we're finishing the last Harry Potter book.

7. I love a good bath. At least an hour, with a book and a snack and the door locked, so no kid can bother me. And hot enough to make me look like a lobster, even in summertime. Yes, it is massively selfish.

8. Ah, Gwen. Remember the Subway Pizza subs with pickles, olives, mayonnaise and mustard? Occasionally, I'll still eat one and think of you (not the calorie count or the sodium count or the shame). A happy and strangely delicious accident.

Ten Years Gone

Today is the day before my thirtieth birthday. I have the predictable mixed feelings. Ten years ago, my PaPa died. At twenty years old, I lost a grandpa who was more like another father to me. Six months later, I was pregnant with Olivia. It's the point in my life where I stopped being a child, and became an adult. The point where I stepped off the career track and onto the family track.

My family moved from Kansas to Missouri when I was seven. My parents placed a double-wide trailer onto an acre Grandma and PaPa gave them, right behind the garden. We could walk between houses in less than a minute. We shared a driveway and more good and bad experiences with them than I can relate here. It was like having another set of parents that lived right next door. I often remark that I was "raised by the elderly."

They came to our school functions with Mom, took us fishing, took us to church, and didn't stint on the constructive criticism when we needed it. PaPa was a retired farmer who'd had two boys for ten and twelve years before my mother was born. He often forgot and called her "son," and he'd do the same with us. He helped teach me to drive, with an exasperating combination of patience and confidence that his way was the ONLY way to do things. I learned to drive the riding lawn mower first, then the tractor, then the old 1981 Chevy Impala.

These last two pictures are from my wedding. Grandma was too sick to come, but PaPa was there, and he always did love a crowd. He loved to tell stories and gab with anyone he met. I can hear his voice in my head, proudly stating that he had "eight grandkids and eight great-grandkids." He was always so proud of his grandkids. I think the total is now: eight grandkids and fifteen great-grandkids.

My Hollis' middle name is Garland, after PaPa. He does remind me of him in some ways. He inherited the Huffman ears. He also has a way of giving you a shy but conspiritorial smile, the way PaPa would do when you'd catch him eating the dry bread Grandma had stashed away for making meatloaf or hamburgers. I don't know why he liked eating it so much. He was a young man during the Depression, and maybe that influenced his tastes somewhat.

Somehow turning thirty pales in comparison to having lived one third of my live without him.

Lovely!

I was just reviewing my earlier blog post and noticed that I used the word LOVELY about nine brazilian times.

What I meant was....

spectacular
stellar
luscious
sinful
indecent
and
decadent.

Hen Day is Back

We had Hen Day at my house on Wednesday. For me, it's been several weeks, since we were working crazy-like to get ready for vacation and gone for vacation. It felt like coming home. It's a little odd, with Toby here, but I hope nobody minded.

We made gumbo with some okra and squash and zucchini from the farmer's market. It was lovely. Then Lucy showed us how to make a menu planner for the whole month. It's little cards in a pocket binder sheet (for coin collecting). Each card is color-coded, like red for pasta, green for stir-fry, etc... Then on the back of each card, you write the ingredients needed for the meal. So in planning out your weekly grocery shopping, you look at the back of the cards and make your list. I have a picture of it above.

I know this is a valuable planning and organizational tool. I was very impressed, also, by how many meals Lucy and Rebecca have regularly and that have names. I realized we are TERRIBLE at planning meals. It's always sort of: "Well, it's time to eat, everyone's starving,what is there?" Hmmm, I know that means we NEED this project. I just have a hard time deciding how specific to be. You know, is it generic stir-fry once a week, varied by being served with noodles or rice, and by whatever we have on hand? Or do I list Onion-Carrot-Cabbage-Pepper stir fry?

I'm working on it. We do have one standard in our family: Friday is Pizza and Movie night. We make looooovely homemade pizzas on the pizza stone. I have fresh basil and tomatoes growing in the garden, so the sauce came from here. We have a lovely recipe from the Bread Bible for crust that's easy and quick. It also mixes up in large batches and makes lovely hole-y bread.

Back from Utah

This is Toby's Great-Grandma McDonald. She packs heat. To the hospital, when she had open-heart surgery. I'm not kidding. She is an awesome lady.
Grandma and Grandpa Higginson. They have the most amazing green thumbs. You should see their garden. Maggie ate her body weight in tomatoes while we were there.
This is the view from where we camped three years ago with the whole McDonald family. The elevation is 9000 plus. We just drove up into the mountains above Heber. It gets so nice and cool the higher you go.
Liv and Hollis in the clearing where we used to camp. Liv is showing off her new "pirate" boots we got at the Deseret Industries. I know the church is true...because of their thrift store!
Here we all are. We're happy to be home and now trying to get back into routines. Hollis and Olivia already have two days of school under their belts.

We're smoking this joint!

In typical McDonald family fashion, we finalized plans to go on a vacation to Utah. We're leaving Wednesday night. Toby and I are frantically making lists of things to buy and pack and do before leaving. We will be getting back at the last minute before the kids start school next Thursday. Also in typical fashion. Actually, the year Liv started school, we got home at five a.m. on the day school started. Blame Brynn. We were there to attend her birth. We did, and what a show. But that's another story.
Last Thursday night, we made a trip to the Ozark Empire Fair with my family, as Mom has always wanted to attend. Some highlights:



The kids checking out some race cars.
Livvie and a goat.
And one of my personal favorites, an artfully arranged and decorated shelf of prize hams. Love the calico swags and the ferns.

Thrift Store Goodness

I'm tired of drinking out of jam jars with the labels peeling off them. On Tuesday morning, we picked blueberries and visited Crosslines in Monett, which is my favorite junk store. We brought home some sweet retro dishes. We made muffins this morning for breakfast with the blueberries in them.
I had to take a picture of Ivy this morning. She was all tired out due to a long night of squirming and whining instead of sleeping. At least it's cute this morning.

Sometimes we have too much time with the mannequins!

Makes me want one.

Thanks to all our customers!

Here's the result of last week's hard work: a pile of boxes (boxen!) containing beautiful corsets for lovely ladies! I'm headed out to ship them and then we're going to town to spend the money. Woo!

I'm squandering a lot of it on new glasses for Olivia. She's been having headaches without hers. We're both hoping for a pair of Harry Potter round frames. We'll have to see what the selection is like.

Oh, you can see in the background the headboard Toby made for me. I plan to make a slip cover for it...someday. But at least for now it looks a little less like we sleep on the floor.

What I'm into right now...

This song gives me chills. I'm trying to figure out if it's worth buying an album for. It's Damien Rice and the song is Volcano.



My first You Tube working (I hope) link.

Changes...

Well, we figured out last night that it's only seven weeks plus a few days until Liv and Hollis go to school. We are frantically trying to save enough money to visit Utah before then, because it's been nearly three years since we've been there. We miss the fam.

In other news, Toby and I have gotten into bicycles a bit. It seems we've both put on ten pounds in the last month or two. My In-Laws have lots of bikes and lots of useful knowledge about them, and they let us borrow a bike for Olivia and myself, plus a trailer for the two little girls, PLUS a half-bike for Hollis. We have been on several rides with them, and this morning was our first solo at our house. It went...okay. Livvie has not been for many rides on gravel roads, and whined and complained and pushed her bike for a lot of it. We did end up being gone an hour (it would have been much faster if everyone was RIDING their bike). So I hope our hearts were hardened (in the good way), and our legs were strengthened. I know my bum has been bruised, but I expect that it will pass much like saddle-sores do. Mom, if you're reading this, we ALWAYS wear helmets.

Here is a picture of us, the first family photo since Hollis was nine months old-ish:

We Stimulated the Economy...

I think the check arrived last Saturday. We did the following with it:

2 new pairs of shoes for Toby

1 used pair of shoes for myself

Haircuts for Livvie, Hollis, Maggie and myself--Thank You, Laural!

A bunk bed

AND...a station wagon.

We cleaned out our Emergency Fund and used pretty much all the change lying about the house to purchase a 96 Volvo. It is lovely, and runs twice a far per gallon as the Beastly.

The kids are loving the bunk bed as well. They have a tiny room (7 x 9) which was until last week entirely eaten by a king mattress and box spring. Ah, but the snuggly piles of children were so cute in the mornings. Now they have floor space in the room, which will be nice if they can refrain from leaving piles of toys, books, clothing and papers all around.

Today we went to Silver Dollar City with Mom and Dad and Laural. They had free passes that were expiring soon, and everyone happened to have a day off on the same day. Hollis rode Lost River for the first time as he is finally tall enough for it. He is a cautious boy, and was nervous--I could see his pulse just pounding in his little neck before they started the ride up. He said he liked it, but didn't care to ride it again.

Toby took Maggie and Olivia on the Water Boggan ride. For some reason, the height requirement for this ride is only 34 inches, instead of 36 like Lost River. It is a very tall tower with a water slide tube. One rides down it with two or three other people in an inflatable raft. Maggie had a look of, "I'm enjoying this, but I'm not sure why we're doing it." Of course, Livvie just laughed the whole time down.

Dad was feeling kind of sick, so Mom and Dad left just an hour or two after we got there. He thought his gall bladder was acting up, but we think it is high blood pressure and high blood sugar. He is now taking a walk. We need to keep him moving, and encourage him to eat healthier.

Sewing For Fun, Not Profit

Look, I can grow something...at one time, I requested that Toby purchase me a rose bush each time a birthed a child of his. Hey, Toby, I think you owe me three. Anyway, this is a Knockout rose and they are lovely. Blooms all the time and sturdy. It's all I ask for in a rose.

So, the month of May is crazy for our family....we spend every weekend in May at the Castle in Muskogee Oklahoma's Renaissance Festival. It's our third year there, and we love it. We've made lots of friends with other vendors and cast members, and customers look for us now. I've discovered when we work hard all day Saturday and Sunday, that Monday becomes a default weekend. We just can't seem to do anything materially productive on Monday, except maybe some laundry, and yeah, feeding ourselves is always high on my priority list.

I've been noticing that the little girls don't seem to have many shirts these days. I usually look for bottoms, because they take longer to sew. The problem is, shirts take the brunt of kid-feeding overflow. I'm a big fan of Wardrobe Refashion (I could do a link, but wouldn't you respect yourself more if you looked it up yourself?) and have a nice stash of wonky old clothes and fabric from thrift stores or outgrown or holey bigger clothes. So yesterday, I made each little girl a new shirt:


Ivy's is made from the bottom of one of those huge tentlike maternity t-shirts, with a nice contrast band of quilt cotton. The pink contrast flowery band blends into her blue flowery shorts. I didn't manage to take a picture before the biscuit-buttering occurred.

I made Mag's shirt out of the bottom half of a Martha Stewart pillowcase in the classic peasant-blouse style with hand-dyed fat quarter sleeves in a nice orange. Instead of gathering the neckline like Ivy's, I made some quick and dirty darts, three in front and three in the back. It's a little baggy about the shoulders, but fits over her head nicely.

Now today, it's off to use my industrial sewing machine, Bejunia. She helps us buy the food that makes me have to sew more shirts for my kids.