Wednesday, August 31, 2011

weddings, raspberries, and tattoos

Remember these guys?! We're going to be neighbors once we move to our new place, and I couldn't be more excited.

Jesse hardly knows what to do with four daughters, but that beer in the foreground probably helps. My guess is that Naomi's dimples help too, but in a different way.

This looks like trouble.

Titus got my husband dancing! The weird thing is, Rob later refused to jitterbug with me, sending Titus instead. The Bedfords danced at this wedding, JUST NOT WITH EACH OTHER.

Kellie came to visit! Well, she came to work the music for a rodeo, but as far as I'm concerned, that's incidental to her seeing ME. We all picked raspberries at the same farm B and I had picked strawberries. Nine pounds of berries later, I have one batch of jam and many ugly jars of raspberry compote. I put it in ugly jars so I won't be tempted to give any away, and we can eat it all by ourselves.

She then helped us bottle Rob's second batch of home brew and was not very happy that I forgot to bring her a bottle when I saw her last weekend.

A rascal. Scamp. Scallywag.

We are taking part in a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) this summer. New veggies abound. I've roasted many of them and eaten just that for dinner. It's delicious. Things we've gotten thus far: Swiss chard (do not like), kohlrabi (yum!), several kinds of lettuce and peas, cabbage, onions, carrots, cucumbers (I made dill pickles with the wee ones), cauliflower, the best broccoli I've ever tasted, garlic, beets (we've found a friend to donate these to), yellow squash and yellow and green zucchini (roasted some, shredded most for use in zucchini-chocolate cake this winter), potatoes, green onions, green beans, banana peppers, jalapenos, radishes, Brussels sprouts.

I would have bought maybe five to ten of those things at the store. The rest are fun or annoying (we've taken to freezing the shelled peas and I'm asking for a slingshot for Christmas - to show the pesky blackbirds who's boss), figuring out what to do with it all is a bit daunting, and Blake gamely tries almost everything.

One of the puzzle catastrophes. See how FUN it is?! See how I could not just throw it away?!

The one missing piece. There were no extra pieces from the other puzzle. And when I opened the other puzzle's box, this piece was sitting neatly on top. And when I finished that other puzzle (yes, I'm a huge dork, I thought we'd clarified that years ago), there were no pieces missing.

Sawyer, threatening me with his sword, shielded eyes, and too-small boots on the not-right feet. He's a dangerous lad.

So's this one. Reese found Canadian flag tats at the dollar store and picked them up so B could have ink just like his dad. My heart is full to bursting with love for my fellas.

We broke ground on the condo new house last Monday, and by "we," I mean the excavator. We joked about showing up with shovels and hard hats just to give Matt a bad time of it, but I'm guessing he'll have had enough of our shenanigans by the time the house is done, and maybe we shouldn't push it. The foundation was poured by the end of the week, and as of today, there's a floor. We have photos of all of this, of course, but Rob only just got them to me, and I had to get all the above out there before launching into the epic of "Bedfords build a house." We have a lot of decisions to make, and when I can choose from EVERYTHING, I can't choose ANYTHING. This is going to get interesting.

Monday, August 29, 2011

first-grader = no more baby

The only thing left of him that's at all "baby" are his teeth, and based on the looseness of his bottom two, my son's "baby" is about to all fall out. Also, for what it's worth, he dresses himself. I may delicately question his choices, but I do not mock them (much), and I rarely require that he change into something more suitable. It's his mode of expression!

Click to enlarge and see him in his full glory.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

miss that boy

With Blake in Billings for the week, it's awfully quiet around here. Deliciously, refreshingly quiet.

He's reached an age where the talking. never. stops. And I know some of you are just laughing and laughing, but really: I know when to stop now. When I think of how damn long it took me to reach that point, I'm a bit concerned that the next 25 years of my life will very, very long. And full of talking.

But maybe there will also be dance!

Thursday, August 18, 2011

i love this life

First, a disclaimer: I'm beginning to realize what a poor photographer I can be. I cannot always blame the camera, because I'm fairly confident that, in the hands of a better shooter, it could do some pretty badass stuff. But if I waited until my photos were all perfect or artful or whatever to show them to people, you'd never get to peek into our lives.

Kind of like God. If I wait until I'm holy to pray, I will never speak to Him again. Good thing He loves sinners! Good thing you guys don't mind crappy photos!

A friend gave Rob the goods to start brewing his own beer in exchange for some of the fruits of that labor. I was not very gracious at first (the items are large and space-taking), but have since been converted. It's not like he got a liver-and-onions machine, after all.

First batch was a honey wheat and it was DELICIOUS. The batch currently aging is Belgian-style wheat. He confessed to choosing recipes he knew I'd like so as to win me over faster, with more energy. It worked.

"Terra, kiss me right here."

"Ok, Blake, now you kiss ME right here!"
We love that girlie.

When it's too hot to play outside (mid-90s), but you still need to move it move it, just strip down and play some Xbox Kinect. These boys were SWEATY, and we had the A/C on!

A delightfully quirky care package from the delightfully quirky Molly.

It was really fun, even if it was REALLY BOSSY! I have yet to make the bracelet, but Rob and Blake christened the "EAT THIS" bag "black sugar" and promptly ate it all. Molly's note (in reference to a book we've discussed) on that bag reads: "Cookies & cream bars (basically Rice Krispie bars but with crushed Oreos). NOT Nourishing Trads approved - unless coating Oreos with marshmallows counts as 'soaking grains.'"

Catherine and I hit up Rocky Creek Farm with our kiddos. This is pre-strawberry picking.

During strawberry picking - the kids did really well once we showed them what was too early to pick and what was far too late to pick.

Our crew, sans me. We ate berries by the handful (I ate once they were home and washed), and I made jam. The berries were so tender and wonderful that the ones at the bottom of the buckets were bruised by the weight of the ones at the top of the buckets. The hard store-bought kind no longer have much appeal - strawberries aren't supposed to be that firm.

Nerd alert! Nerd alert! There was a LARPing fair or something happening while we picked. I didn't want to intrude or be sucked in and discover the magic of pointed ears and long skirts in hot weather, so I just snapped a pic from far away.

I dragged him on a walk. It was hot (his shirt was in my back pocket most of the time). His legs were tired. I bribed him with ice cream.
But this is proof we went somewhere and did something. Outside. Together. We played 20 Questions ("Mom, can we play that question game? One thousand questions?"). We pondered what we'd do with a million dollars. My son cannot ponder a number so large, because the idea that he could own all the LEGOs in his catalog, with money still left over, boggled his little mind to the point that he truly couldn't come up with anything else to spend that money on.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

working office-free

  • Distracting because of the people.
  • Internet is blazing fast.
  • Coffee is excellent.
  • I must make the coffee myself.
Barnes & Noble
  • Distracting because of the people (HOLY CRAP!).
  • Internet is piddly slow.
  • Coffee is terrible but made by someone else.
  • I have to pay through the nose for the terrible coffee made by someone else.
I may try working from home from now on instead.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

a smattering of happenings

My mother and her friend Teri got chickens! They are well-fed, well-loved, well-caught chickens who have produced a few of what my dad calls "the most expensive eggs ever." This red let Blake catch her at least three times.

Blake making sure he has a heartbeat. See all those growlers on the back counter? Rob and I threw a "kegger" at my parents' house early in the summer (being still pregnant, I did not get very much of that smorgasbord of beer). Because we are adults... we invited our parents. Because we wanted more than one kind of beer, we rounded up half a dozen growlers and hit at least three different breweries in Billings to get a good selection. It was rather fun and quite tasty.

Rod (the doctor!) showing Blake how to properly apply an Ace bandage.

"Why are you taking a picture of us eating?"
"Because I can."

We provided the beer, the sides, and the dessert and asked everyone to bring something to grill. Rob then manned the grill LIKE A BOSS.

No, it's not what you think, but I did dart over to check. He was just patting his belly in the direction of the fireplace tools.
Because he can.

Maddox rounded up a few accomplices to help him consume as many s'mores as possible before his parents caught on. He was quite successful, despite having to entice people to assist him in his 'mallow roasting out in a light drizzle.

Blake's LEGO cookie.

Western tanagers at two of my feeders. I have had the COOLEST birds drop in! They have all since moved on and I am left with sparrows and house finches and damnable black birds.

The indigo bunting that surprised me one morning. Just saw him once.

Incredibly intense rainbow after one of many, many, MANY June thundershowers.

Lane and Bing drove to the rez and I hit a stand before we all converged on my parents' house for the Fourth. Dad already had a goodly stash of mortars, and we proceeded to show Rob what a rippin' good time can be had with what is otherwise a colossal waste of money.

That is homemade ice cream on that plate. My mom does it up right, though her version of "right" includes only HAND-CRANKED ice cream. Shew.

Grammie: Blake wants PB&J for lunch. Can you can get him everything he needs?
A: Yes, I'll make it.
G: No, he can do it.
A: He can NOT!
Oh, would you look at that.

... He can!
I am logging this knowledge away for future school lunch use.

Grammie bought him these Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle fingerless gloves, and he wears them ALL THE TIME. That's my little Raphael, reading Toot & Puddle while ninja-ing it up.

More photos of our summer thus far forthcoming, but 55 was simply too many to post all at once without using Picasa.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

the eagle has landed


In related news, my eyes keep leaking.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

i barely know how to celebrate anymore

... but I'm sure I'll remember.

The condo closed. The deed's been filed. All that's left is to check the deposit at start of business day tomorrow.

And then...


Tonight I'm having wine with a friend. Rob's gaming, Blake's playing with a dear cousin. We're pretty low-key these days.


Sunday, August 7, 2011


Shark Week!

I'd like this sleeping bag. If nothing else, it's an ice-breaker and conversation piece. I wouldn't even have to sleep in it. If there was a lull in a dinner party (and let's face it: not likely at MY dinner parties!), I could just whip this baby out and bask in the laughs and envy.

In honor of Shark Week (last week), this is how the Discovery Channel decked out one of their office buildings.

Star Wars!

I could totally make these with Blake. Thing is, Otter Pops don't last long enough to do much more than say, "Look! I used one of the lightsaber handles! Oops, already finished my Otter Pop."

Rob appreciated this one enough to make it his avatar in chat. We are huge nerds. Yes.

Other Stuff!

A better batch of school supplies, but for the fact that I'm sure you cannot touch them or they would break. Either that, or your hand would glow for hours afterward in the awesomeness of handcrafted wax art. Someone was really REALLY bored creative.

Rob thinks this is sexist, but I told him that no matter how good he makes it, Ramen is still, well, RAMEN.

I will reserve comment, having been sold over to the Dark Side of Mac user.