Exclusive! The Photos that Man versus Food Didn't Want You to See!

Yay, Niagara Falls!

It's like a nice walking path with an excellent park on one side of it and an amazing series of waterfalls on the other side. What could be better?

Our only annoyance was that Man v. Food happened to be filming an episode just as we were there, and they kept doing every single thing that we were doing (sightseeing, ticket buying, Maid of the Mist, etc.) at the exact same time that we were doing it. At first, obviously, I was SUPER excited to see the Man v. Food guy--we had cable for a few months last year, and I loved that show, in which the Man v. Food guy goes somewhere cool, sightsees, and then eats a lot of food--and there they were, filming right where we were, and so I was all, "Matt! Take a picture!"

Here's Matt's picture:

In the back you can see the Man versus Food guy checking his mark, and then there's the camera guy and the sound guy, and in the front are these two people who just stand there and act mean to tourists. Just after Matt took that photo, that woman on the left actually walked over to him and told him that he had to stop taking pictures immediately.

Now, Matt's a nice guy, so he was nice and conciliatory, but his stance was the same as my stance would have been if it had been me with the camera getting all redneck up on her instead of being all California cool: it's unfortunate, for her, that she doesn't want us to take photos, because she has no power to stop us. We're American taxpayers in a state park. As Americans, we're according certain freedoms, and pinnacle among these freedoms is the right to take amateur photographs of celebrities. And not even celebrities enjoying Niagara Falls on their downtime with their families, because I wouldn't photograph that, but celebrities actually on the clock being celebrities. Filming not on a closed set, or even inside a barracade, or even near a sign that says "Quiet" or "No photographs," but right smack in the middle of the walking path at Niagara, making use of, if I'm not mistaken, uncredited appearances by the dozens and dozens of random tourists walking by. I think I was one of those tourists, and you didn't hear me being all, "You can't take photos of me," even though I not only don't make a living by having my photo taken, but I don't even like it, because I'm a good sport. You want me to stop taking photos somewhere that I have a legal right to be and a legal right to photograph at, and there's no "No Photography" signs around, and it's Niagara Falls, for Pete's sake, and I paid TEN DOLLARS to be there? Then you have to look like you could arrest me or at least beat me up, and even then I'll throw a big redneck fit and make a huge scene.

In other words--you want me to stop taking pictures? Make me.

Mind you, I wasn't even that interested in taking photographs of the Man v. Food guy--we were at Niagara Falls, you know?--but after that I did make a point of taking (or pretending to take, because it wasn't worth blowing through my CF card) tons of photos every time we were around them, and since we basically did everything together, I basically took photos of the Man v. Food guy for half the day--I might as well be his mom, or maybe I should make him a crazy-fan scrapbook. Mr. Man v. Food guy basically ignored all the tourists that his camerapeople were getting lots of free shots of, which is fine by me because I'm down with keeping your mind on your job, but lots of unhappy tourists were complaining and saying sad things about how the Man v. Food people had been mean to them, so I considered myself doing it for the people.

Everyone needs a hobby.

Otherwise, we had an excellent time, with lots of staring at the falling water--

--and a VERY exciting trip on the Maid of the Mist:

Even the Man v. Food people came with us (and took up a quarter of the boat, and rebuffed excited tourists. I always thought Man v. Food looked really fun, but according to the way these people acted, it is a J.O.B. like anything else--were they missing children's soccer games? Being forced to face their waterfall phobias? Who knows, but they were grumpy):

The Maid of the Mist has an observation deck that is very high and offers grand vistas:

And the chance to get up very, VERY close to the base of waterfalls?

Very, VERY exciting:

Even for the adults, it turns out:

I was, of course, planning to wrap my fancy camera up nice and tight at the last possible minute, but as soon as we so much as turn the corner to the Horseshoe Falls--

--the camera is all, "Is that a hint of moisture that I sense in the air? ABORT! ABORT!"

And it crapped out for the rest of the day and refused to behave until Matt gave in later that day and took it to an actual camera shop. Mind you, all the clerk guy did was futz with it like we'd been doing, and that camera shop didn't even sell Canons so what more could he know than us, but at least it gave my little Rebel the feeling that we cared, and so it recovered.

And that's why instead of hundreds of glorious photoscapes from the observation deck later, instead I have grainy video from my trusty and sturdy ipod!

I know, you're welcome.

Our Priceline hotel in Buffalo ruled pretty well, as well (which is great since we're getting screwed at this Fairfield Inn outside of Albany), with one of our top ten hotel swimming pools EVER:

Seriously, check out that vista!

You bet it was a top-ten day.

Six Dinosaurs and Two Police Officers

Normally I wouldn't even begin a child's birthday shirt until the night before her birthday, but since we're leaving on our road trip tomorrow, during which our baby will celebrate her birthday on the beach, I think this counts, and thus I crafted yesterday while the daddy took the girlies to the public pool.

During the walk home from the pool Sydney, on her balance bike, was pulled over and questioned by the police.

Well, technically the police were the ones who pulled over, since Sydney was waiting on her balance bike on the path at the tree where the girls are required to wait for us when they ride ahead. Matt, who was VERY far behind on the path, although in eyesight--hence the requirement to wait at that particular tree, which is visible--saw them drive by, then drive back by, then pull over, then get out of the car and walk over to Sydney, then kneel down to speak to Sydney. Then he saw Sydney turn and point to him on the path, and then he waved. And then he got to speak to the police officers, too. Matt did not recount the conversation for me, which means that it likely did not go well, but they did all manage to come home, and CPS has not been by yet, and thank goodness it was him instead of me, because although I am quite happy to have my children watched out for when we're out in the wider community, I am vastly more indignant than my good-natured, easy-going partner if my parenting is questioned or my civil rights tampered with.

I also have gotten into the habit of idly listening to the police scanner streaming online while I putter, so I must have been out of the room at the time, because I'm sure I would have recognized my little nuclear family being speculated about on the radio...

But meanwhile, happily, busily, ignorant of the fact that were I in Arizona my child would be at that moment in danger of being deported for she does not carry ID, I was crafting a birthday masterpiece:

The stencils were made using the Dinosaur Tracks cartridge, my Cricut, and freezer paper, and painted onto a thrifted T-shirt (it came tie-dyed) with Jacquard paints. I can't WAIT to see it on my baby on the beach on her birthday!

And also? We always cooperate to the extent of our legal requirements and the best of our abilities with the authorities whenever it is requested.

A Shirred Strawberry Sundress

The finishing touch is a Band-aid across her upper lip that she insists is a "mustache."

The shirred fabric purchase was a happy mistake. 

A strawberry print, it was hanging out in the remnants bin at 75% off due to a little stain near one edge, but when I bought it I thought that it was a plain quilting cotton. The shirred ends were folded to the inside, so it wasn't until we got back home and I unwrapped the fabric that I saw that it was that same type of pre-shirred fabric that I often see and always think would make a sweet and simple sundress for my kid, but never buy because I know how to shirr fabric on my own sewing machine, only I never do, so how lucky to have a perfect length of that pre-shirred fabric in my hands at the price of only a couple of dollars and one load of wash with Oxy Clean!

One wiggly-kid measurement and one clean-finished seam later--

--that same wiggly girl was very happy, indeed:

To her dismay, I did insist that we add shoulder straps, although when I changed their name to "shoulder pretties" and got out my stash of lace bits for her to choose from, she changed her tune enough to help me sew on the finishing touches:

And then she gave it a good, thorough try-out:

If it's good enough to rollerblade in, then it's good enough for me!

Because What the Kitchen Needs is a Floor Covered in Loose Marbles

Because what else are you going to do with all those empty toilet paper tubes?

If you have children, and/or are crafty, perhaps you, too, are in the habit of collecting odd objects with no use. Toilet paper tubes, rubber bands, cereal boxes, business envelopes with those pretty security patterns on the inside--all have ample crafty uses, and yet, WOW is it easy to get quite a collection going, with no end in sight.

With plenty of modifications (of course), this week the girls and I used up my pointless collection of empty toilet paper tubes by completing this refrigerator marble run project from Family Fun. I have been doing, if I do say so myself, a GREAT job with science enrichment this summer. My failures in Spanish and geography enrichment seem lighter when I think about the tons of fun, experiential, open-ended science exploration that the girls have done in the past few weeks, not to mention all the science books, computer games, and videos that go without saying. The marble run project is a fun, experiential, open-ended exploration in physics.

And of course, it's crafty:

This includes what may be the younger child's first successful experience using the hot glue gun independently:

Success, of COURSE, is not counted as not burning oneself, because that would be nigh on impossible, but as not freaking out like a big baby and letting getting burned spoil all your fun. The child is going to be a hard-core crafter like her momma one of these days.

The Family Fun tute calls for adhesive magnet strips. I first tried to cheat by recycling refrigerator magnets--well, not *recycling* them, per se, but we can get by without them--but they weren't strong enough, so we had to take a trip to Michael's with a 50%-off coupon in hand to buy some stronger button magnets.

Happily, this project was an excuse to clean off and then wipe down the front of the refrigerator, making it look nice and clean (except for some pen scribbles and glued-on beer caps, whatever). But then we crapped it right back up with a plethora of scribbled-on toilet paper tubes, so there you go:

But does the marble run work, you ask?

Yeah, it works. But we definitely need a bigger catcher at the end of the run, because you can put a catching container at the end of the marble run all you want, but the marble is only going to land nicely inside it IF you've put the run together absolutely perfectly.

Otherwise, we're starting a brand-new marble collection somewhere under the refrigerator, apparently.

Drawing Dinosaurs

As Beanpole, my favorite part of our Independence Day parade, announced this morning, "Every day is Independence Day. Happy 3rd of July!".

Today has been a napping in the hammock, biking downtown and back, painting the basement hallway (the Great Timeline commences!!!) day. The dad and the Syd left this afternoon for hours' worth of errands, leaving the Willow behind--who was distraught to discover this, once her head popped up from her book and she was informed that her father had ASKED her to come with them over an hour ago as they were leaving, but she was so busy reading that she had declined. She has no memory of this refusal, silly girl. As a former reading child myself, I've mentioned to Matt that the only way to gain a reading child's real and true attention is to put a hand on her shoulder and wait for her to look up and maintain eye contact. If she makes eye contact but her eyes keep darting back to her book, she's still not paying attention.

Will's idea for how to pass the dreadful time until the dad and the Syd came back was to decamp with a blanket and numerous supplies out to the backyard where we would--guess what?--read. Of course, there was also lots of tree climbing, running around, laying back (this is where I got my hammock nap in), and drawing:

Ammonite

Icthyosaur

Ankylosaurus and Plesiosaurus

Stegosaurus

These are all Willow's creations, by the way, with pencil on white sketch paper and pastel crayon on black sketch paper, copied from how-to-draw books and picture books and her own clever mind, of course. She did sweet talk me into producing an apatosaurus and a gallimimus with pastels on black paper, and she praised them amply to be supportive, but those illustrations aren't still around to scan, alas--it's about the process, not the product, you know.

In other news, Will is also recovering from a raging case of swimmer's ear. As her pediatrician was washing a build-up of earwax out of the affected ear, he both announced that Willow is definitely the year's record-holder so far of earwax removed, and mentioned in passing that he was surprised her hearing hadn't been affected, her ear was so clogged. As we left the doctor's office later, I commented on what he had said, and Willow replied, "Yeah, I can't hear you a lot."

Just when you think that you have a reasonably bright child on your hands, one who is smart and sensible, you turn around and discover that she's neglected to tell you that she's been half-deaf for who knows how long. Really, sometimes I wonder if there is anything inside a child's brain other than fireflies and crayons and the desire for candy.

I Spy Sydney in Progress

Here's what my work table looks like this week:

I have been planning to sew an I Spy quilt for Sydney for quite a while, and now I need to hop to it lest she outgrows it before I even begin!

Here's Our Homeschool This Week

This week-ish, we...

swam and swam and had swim class, rode pedal bikes and balance bikes and scooters, picked blueberries--

--picked blackberries, went to a carnival, learned how to slip 'n slide, hiked some nature trails and hiked downtown, scrubbed the basement steps something fierce (the giant timeline preparations are in motion!) and wrestled and raced and goofed around a lot.

did workbook pages and many puzzles, played more of that inane Dragon Tales computer game, played pick-up sticks and dice (Willow made up a dice game that is a KILLER for anybody else but her to win), used little plastic toy bugs as math manipulatives for addition, subtraction, and pattern-making, and stamped with number stamps.

read, read, READ--Willow read Abigail's Drum, several Dinosaur Cove books, a mystery that takes place at Niagara Falls, and a Boxcar Children book that I was supposed to be reading TO her but it was so dull that I kept dozing off, oops; together we read many picture books, including the beautiful Blueberries for Sal, and began Fantastic Mr. Fox. We also watched the film of Fantastic Mr. Fox, spent entire afternoons at the library more than once, and did some workbook and played some Starfall.

made more sand art--

--decorated toilet paper tubes in preparation for the Great Refrigerator Marble Run, made some collages, worked with Sharpies, tried out a very odd Hello Kitty plastic toy-making oven--

--colored in coloring books and colored plenty free-form, painted loads of watercolor paintings--

--learned from cake how to make plastic bottle votives, and made princess jewels, pirate jewels, and labels for my baby bags together using the Cricut:

practiced guitar and took guitar class, listened to plenty of CDs and vinyl record albums, and goofed around amply with the keyboard, recorder, and other miscellaneous musical instruments.

wrote workbook stuff, kept the girls' library reading program lists all up-to-date and orderly, Willow took a journaling class and made her own journal to write in, and both the girls cracked this week's secret code, also at the library.

watched a documentary on Plimoth Plantation (we leave next week!), played My First Amazing History Explorer over and over and over again on the computer, and read lots and lots and LOTS of books about Pilgrims and First Thanksgivings and the Boston Tea Party, etc.

practiced the ASL alphabet some more, again courtesy of Starfall.

made butter in a Mason jar, and also blueberry muffins and cookies--

--which tasted delicious; watched Mythbusters and Dinosaur Train and a documentary on tornadoes; gardened rather helpfully; worked several works in the official Squire Boone Caverns activity books; and took excellent, loving care of the sweet little baby tadpoles.

And that's how we homeschooled this week--whew!

Blueberries and Black Raspberries

The u-pick blueberry farm is a VERY important part of our summer.

The children's personalities really come into focus here. Sydney, whose penchants for fine clothing and hair pretties and small toy ponies might fool you into thinking her frivolous, steadily picked blueberries for two entire hours:

She ended up with three pounds of blueberries picked all by herself:

Willow, whose penchants for book work and dinosaur study and guitar practice might fool you into thinking that she's solidly industrious, picked perhaps fifteen blueberries, and then spent two hours happily floundering in various mudpits:

She collected this summer's stock of pampered tadpole babies to come live in our fish tank:

She's out on the back deck reading out loud to them right now, actually...

I forbade Willow to pick more blueberries after she got her hands so filthy in tadpole muck and refused to wash them. Fortunately, the child is a problem-solver:

We've never had the luck in our side-of-the-trail black raspberry picking that my blog friend cake has. We don't come home with many black raspberries, but this is probably a good thing since we seem to collect an equal number of chiggers as raspberries. The yearly outing does have two good things going for it, however, that our blueberry picking lacks...

Wildflowers:

And Daddy:

He's even better at collecting chiggers than the rest of us are.

Homeschool Science: Mason Jar Butter (and Whipped Cream!)

How one thing leads to another...

We're going to Niagara Falls in a couple of weeks, did I tell you? I am SOOOPER excited. Our house is chock-full of books and media products and activities and experiments and art projects having to do with the humongous road trip (such preparation has taken precedence over other mundane necessities as finding a cat sitter, a front garden waterer, and a community garden waterer, none of which we have, yet, yikes!), including one CD reader entitled Manny's Cows: The Niagara Falls Tale, which the girls listen to over and over and over again.

In the story, the cows discover how to make butter, and the book includes a recipe for Mason jar butter. Willow says, "I want to make Mason jar butter." And so we do.

You will need:

• clean Mason jar with tight-fitting lid
• heavy whipping cream

1. Fill the Mason jar about 3/4-ish full of cream.
2. Shake the crap out of it until it turns to butter with a little buttermilk on the side:

This project was actually a perfect complement to the oil vs. water science experiment that Sydney initiated the other week, because it's another example of the way that oil (or butterfat) wants to separate. If you unscrew the lid fairly often, you can watch the transition from milk to butter in several discrete steps. The girls were only interested in one of these steps:

Whipped cream! The air that gets shaken into the mixture as a preface to its separation is yummy, little scientists discovered, on chocolate chip cookies, ginger muffins, and, it turns out, straight from the spoon.

I've read that Mason jar butter requires perhaps 10-15 minutes of straight shaking. I wouldn't know, as we spent a good hour on this project. I dutifully shook when it was my turn, but I must report that the larger child merely gave the jar a desultory shake or two while reading comic books when it was her turn, and the smaller child refused to shake at all, merely letting the Mason jar keep her company as she watercolor painted on the floor when it was her turn.

The fate of the butter rested in my hands, then, but I'm happy to tell you...

...that it tasted simply delicious with my vegan blueberry/ginger spelt muffins.

This is What All the Fuss Was About

A friend of mine, who also was homeschooled as a child, warned me recently that summer is the busiest season for homeschoolers. In summer, you not only have all the regular active homeschooler stuff--and there's a lot of regular active homeschooler stuff!--but you also have all the out-of school schoolkid stuff, the day camps and reading programs and sports classes, etc., not to mention the super-fun extra summer stuff.

And that's how it's been this past week. We've had not just the regular active homeschooler stuff--guitar class and science experiments and playdates and art activities and workbooks--but the out-of school schoolkid stuff--swim class and library programs and movie screenings--and the summer stuff! Berry picking! Ice cream eating! Even more swimming!

The momma stuff, therefore--crafting and blogging and book writing--has been waaaaaaaaay on the back burner. I basically shoved a week's worth of work into a couple of stressful evenings, but the Crafting a Green World articles have been written, the babywearing class has been taught, and the baby bags...

Ah, the baby bags...

They're killing me, I love them so much. I mean, seriously--Guns 'n Roses?!? How could you NOT dress your newborn in a Guns 'n Roses gown?

Anyway, I actually have about four more baby bags all cut out and ready to be sewn, and I need to prep and upload a big update to my pumpkinbear etsy shop with the stuff from my new handmade homeschool line, AND I need to get my application in to Strange Folk 2010 pronto, and I'm totally going to get right on that, but for the next couple of days I think I have more pressing business to accomplish.

I should probably make several meals of stir-fried rice.

And watch this totally insane documentary about Dr. Bronner that I checked out of the library.

And paint the basement hallway in several shades of pink and purple.

Right now, however, there's a summer storm brewing, and I really need to go stand out in the middle of the street and watch it.

Til tomorrow...

What Have I Been Making This Week?

Baby bags!!!

Bring it on, emo babies!

The Sturdiest Comforter on the Block

Do you know how long it takes to sew decorative/reinforced stitching around the perimeter of a king-sized down comforter?

It takes a loooooong time. But man, that comforter has been with us for a long time, too, and man, it had lots of holes around the seams.

And hauling it triumphantly back to the bedroom when I was finished, finding Matt laid out on the bed playing video games, and flopping the comforter on top of him, watching him first flinch back and hold his breath in anticipation of the expected cloud of downy little feathers, then smile happily and say, "Hey, you fixed the comforter!"--totally worth the trouble.

Secondhand Sand

This weekend was all about the thrifting. Of course, we did also go to the zoo this weekend and have Father's Day and watch Toy Story 3 at the drive-in, and last weekend we had the Monroe County History Center garage sale, so that was thrifting, too...

Just go with me, here. This weekend was all about the thrifting.

First, of course, are the Friday morning garage sales. We don't often hit these, but we were on our way over to the Community Garden, anyway, and I did just happen to have a little cash money in my pocket, and that's how we ended up with a Belgian waffle maker, a Ziplock baggie full of little plastic cowboys 'n Indians, and Sydney's new best friend:

For four dollars.

But of course, we all know that there is no thrifting like the thrifting that is the Goodwill 50%-off Storewide Sale. I bought T-shirts to remake into baby bags, a sorely-needed new pair of blue jeans, subtraction flash cards for Willow + road trip, several pounds of that colored sand that you layer into jars to make shelf pretties, two dinosaur books, etc.

Sydney's mania for all things pretty has nearly driven me out of my gourd. I am SO tired of the child's refusal to wear anything but dresses and skirts and tights and leggings and hairbows and barrettes. I have to braid her hair into two pigtails and put a bow barrette at the bottom of each pigtail every morning. Every morning! All the people who are reading this and who knew me as a child--I'm talking to you, Aunt Pam!--are laughing their asses off right now. I didn't even wear make-up to my own wedding, and here I am with a house full of pigtail braids and bow barrettes.

Anyway...this was the last storewide sale until September, which means that it's time to look into the fall wardrobe. I thought about buying Sydney some practical long pants and long-sleeved shirts, and then I thought, "Aw, screw it," and ended up buying her a big stack of party dresses:

Yep, party dresses. Lace and tulle and smocking and petticoats and  puffs and velvet and ribbons:

The child now has party dresses for play clothes. Whatever, she can wear leggings and tights with them when it gets cold.

Willow has her own methods for driving me nuts, but thankfully clothing is not one of them. A while ago now she tried for a couple of months to insist on "pretty" clothes, as well, but she couldn't stick it. She basically pulls her clothing from the top of her clothing drawers, and as long as she can climb trees in it and get it muddy, she's good to go.

I actually do take pleasure in choosing the children's clothes--even digging through acres of party dresses was fun when I anticipated Sydney's joy in being presented with them, and even though Will doesn't much care about what she wears, I take a lot of pleasure in choosing clothing that is centered on what she does like--dinosaurs, horses, farms, outer space--and clothing that is centered on what I like. That's why my kid is occasionally seen wearing an AC/DC T-shirt.

Usually, however, my clothing choices look more like this:

Or perhaps this:

Five years isn't too early for a kid to dress a little skater punk, is it?