Boreal Witch

This is one of my favorite blog posts. Probably because I can show off some of my creations I've made over the year, but also because it involves one of my loves: quilting.

I started quilting about seven years ago. As with most of my hobbies, I threw myself into it. I didn't bother taking a class, I just cut some squares and triangles and started sewing. Most of my beginning quilts were less than wonderful, but as I kept going, I learned about matching colors, seams, sashing, binding, and even the process of quilting.

Almost all of my quilts are for other people. I haven't made myself a quilt yet (though I hope next year will be the year!). When my grandmother passed, I inherited the quilt I made for her. She never used it because it was "too pretty to use." I wonder what she would think if she knew I use it all the time! 

Even with the big move from Alaska to Wisconsin, I managed to make four quilts and bind and quilt one. I might have gotten one more finished if I had sent it to the quilters about a month earlier. Oh, well. It will be the first quilt finished of the New Year! 

Quilt #1: My Blue Heaven
(You can find the pattern here.) This quilt was for a dear friend of mine from high school. Heather and her husband had been married for two(?) years when I finally finished it. This quilt was monstrous. Normally I try not to make quilts this big because it takes me too long to finish them. I had cut everything out and started sewing it together...and then it sat for a really long time. Finally, I just said, "Screw it!" and made the finished quilt a little smaller. I did keep the extra blocks and will use them for a baby quilt next year. (I just moved to Wisconsin, so I don't know a lot of people, yet I find myself in the process of making three baby quilts!) I chose this quilt because Heather's eyes are blue and her husband's are brown. It was lucky I had a lot of blue and brown scraps. For some reason I must really love blue and brown quilts...



Quilt #2: Simple Hourglass
To be honest, I can't remember where I found this pattern, but it is super simple to put together. It only took me a day to complete. I made this for Ginny, one of the other IAC board members who was having her baby at the end of January.

Anyone else notice that I really seem to like scrap quilts?

(I think they are far more interesting than quilts with the same fabrics.) 



Quilt #3: Block-Within-A-Block
I did not sew this quilt. My friend Amanda made it for Balin's birthday. She had sewn everything together and had tied it with yarn, but couldn't figure out how to put the binding on. I offered to put it on for her since it probably would have sat at her house for months if I hadn't. (And there's no shame in that...my projects tend to sit for months at a time, too!) I ended up taking the yarn out and quilting before putting the binding on. It's a cute little quilt. I love the colors.


Quilt #4: Rails
I'm going to have to start making better notes about each of the quilts I make. I made this in February and it is now December. I'm embarrassed to admit (again) that I've forgotten where I got this pattern.

I made this quilt for the Boys and Girls Club Auction. I don't make a lot of red quilts, but I think I'm going to start. They are absolutely beautiful.


Quilt #5: Bento Box
I finished this for a friend who got married last November. When I told her it was a custom of mine to make quilts for weddings, she told me that she'd like a wall hanging instead.

Emily spent a year teaching in Japan and I thought the Bento Box pattern would be perfect. She had told me that her favorite colors were blue and green. I machine quilted it myself and am very proud to say that I am getting pretty darn good at machine quilting!

I expect to finish at least two wedding quilts and three baby quilts, but there is always the possibility of more, more, more!

Blessings in the New Year, dear readers!

Blessed be.

Yule is one of my favorite holidays. Actually, we have so many traditions that all of December seems like one big holiday.

Since we are living in an apartment again, we had to do things differently this year.

We don't have a fireplace, so our Yule celebration didn't include a bonfire this year.  We had some  sparklers that I picked up from a garage sale this summer and lit those instead. The boys had a blast. We also had a delicious dinner with the most amazing salad I've ever eaten (recipe here) and a caramel/butterscotch fondue for dessert. Sadly, Robinson was sick with strep throat and was unable to enjoy the food as much as he would have if he was well.

Our lease says that we cannot have a real Christmas tree, so we bought a large wreath to hang all of our ornaments and lights on. It was a bit crowded, but the boys enjoyed the novelty.

Their ornaments turned out great, too. Arthur chose to commemorate his holiday program; Balin, his time on the farm, Robinson, his journey down the Al-Can; and I chose to celebrate my new-found love of biking. 


We did, however, continue a few of our favorite traditions. Our gingerbread "house" this year was actually an AT-AT. There's a Lego Luke Skywalker on top (that was Arthur's idea). We had a tough time with it. Its first and second heads were too heavy and broke off, so we decided that this would be one of the AT-ATs that had fallen in the battle on Hoth. It took forever to finish this thing (mostly because of the combination of winter break and Robinson's illness), but the boys had a blast decorating it. Next year we're going to shoot for an X-Wing!

My friend Andrea made a special trip to visit us. She went to UPS with me and lived just down the hall freshman year. She's in Minnesota now. We haven't seen each other in (I kid you not) about twelve years, so it was wonderful to catch up. We also caught each other up on some of the things other UPS friends have been doing and worked on some wedding presents for our friend Rin, who got married February. There are plans in the works to visit her this summer...the boys were utterly fascinated and smitten by her. Isn't it funny how you can get together with old friends and everything's just like old times?

Our families are very generous and the boys received all kinds of gifts: toys, books, clothes. They spent most of the morning putting their new Lego kits together, with Arthur helping Balin.

I'm not sure where Balin's interest in fire fighters came from (he was a fireman for Halloween - maybe that's part of it?), but he got a lot of fire fighting gifts, including two pairs of pajamas and the Lego firetruck. (I didn't notice until now, but he's also sporting his fire truck t-shirt!)

Hope you all had a wonderful holiday!

Blessed be.

My boys love dogs.

They love, love, love dogs.

Especially Arthur. Whenever there's a dog out walking with its owner, Arthur almost always asks if he can pet it. He loves his Uncle Johnny's dogs. He often speaks of wanting a dog.

I, however, know that getting a dog now would be like welcoming the flu or some other contagious disease with open arms: a disaster. See, the boys would be excited about said dog for a day or two and then I would be the one walking it, feeding it, cleaning up after it...oh, no, no, no, no, NO.

I like dogs as much as the next person, but if the boys ever got one, they would be the ones taking care of it. End. Of. Story.

Robinson's brother, John-Charles, and his partner, Hugo, live in Ohio. I've mentioned to several people that this is fairly close to us and they look at me like I'm nuts. I guess I've lived in Alaska way too long when I consider a seven-hour drive "close."

Anyway, we invited them to Thanksgiving. They accepted.

And they brought their dog, Patches.

Now, by my tone you probably think I'm some kind of dog-hater. I'm really not, although there are some dogs that are a little too much for me. I like low-key, non-hyper dogs. Growing up, my family only owned one dog and that was a long-haired Dachshund named Schatzi. She was an older dog, so she was pretty mellow, but she was a little dog which meant that whenever anyone came over, she'd bark at the door for about 15 minutes, and even after our guest entered. 

Patches is about 15 years old, which is quite ancient in dog years, but this dog has the sweetest disposition I have ever had the pleasure of being acquainted with. The boys loved her. They loved watching her chase squirrels. They loved watching her eat. They loved sneaking her food (yes, they did...so sorry, John-Charles and Hugo!). They loved petting her. And they loved all the doggie kisses she gave them. They want to see her again. And soon.

While we're hoping for a trip next summer, we'll still be waiting on a dog for our family.

Someday, boys, I promise.

Blessed be.

Who out there doesn't like Thanksgiving leftovers?

Me, for one.

I know, it's positively un-American.

You should know by now, my dear readers, that I'm not a big fan of leftovers in general. Thanksgiving leftovers generally become new meals: stuffing is put into meatloaf, deviled eggs become egg salad, and turkey is usually added to soup.

Robinson was very, very sad to see the turkey meat go into this delightfully delicious filling, but I wasn't. These sandwiches are heavenly. And, if you eat this filling between a leftover roll, you'll be killing two birds with one stone!

One the Menu: BBQ Turkey Sandwiches
5-6 cups cooked, shredded turkey
1 onion, finely chopped*
1 stalk celery, finely chopped
1/2 pepper (your choice of color), finely chopped
1 tbs olive oil (or oil of your choice)
2-3 cups of BBQ sauce (any kind), about 1 standard sized bottle
Leftover rolls or buns

Saute vegetables until soft, about five minutes. Add turkey and BBQ sauce. Heat through, then serve on rolls.

* I'm not sure how your family does Thanksgiving, but mine always had a vegetable plate. Always. For this meal, I just chopped up leftover veggies and threw them in this dish. If you don't have these particular vegetables, try something else or omit them all together.

Blessed be.

I've been meaning to write. I have, really. One of my boys is now in school and the other still naps in the afternoon, which (one would think) would give me lots of time to blog and catch up on other things.

October has flown by. The month was full of candy and parties and costumes. Arthur was Luke Skywalker and Balin chose to be a fireman. Would you believe that I had to make his jacket because I couldn't find one anywhere? Costumes for both boys cost a whopping $20. I was a bit overwhelmed with everything going on this year, so I didn't make a new costume. Maybe next year. 

Provided that I come up with a really good idea.

And if, of course, I'm feeling ambitious.

We bought our pumpkin from the Farmer's Market this year - the typical orange variety. I tried to spice things up by convincing them we should get a warty one. That was a resounding "NO!" They did, however, like the smooth white ones, so maybe next year we'll be able to convince them that we should get one of those.

Their idea of cool changes on a whim, so they might like the warty ones next year.

Arthur loved pulling the pumpkin guts out. Balin was a little less interested, but he liked the end result. Arthur designed the face after one of the Halloween luminaries we saw at Shopko.

There were also the customary cut cookies. As you can see, dear readers, both boys have frosting on their lips. After they plastered their cookies with frosting, they decided to devour the remainder.

Really, there's no other way to do it.

We ended up going to Carter and Anders's house for dinner the night of Halloween. We were hopeful that the weather on the boys' first actual night of trick-or-treating would be nice, but it poured. The boys played with their friends while Robinson and I hung out with their parents. All in all a nice evening, though not the one we had planned. 

Hope your Halloween was a blessed one. I thought about my grandmother and Karen all day.

Blessed be.

It's still kind of surreal being in Wisconsin. I mean, I've been hearing stories about snow in Fairbanks, but here it's been so muggy lately. Today it must be nearly 75 degrees with the humidity. I'm certain I'll melt away before September ends.

On the bright side, we've been processing a lot more. In Alaska, we'd harvest rhubarb and blueberries and, on the rare occasion, something from our garden. Here, we've already made strawberry jam and syrup, pear butter, apple butter, tomato sauce, sun-dried tomatoes, zucchini chips, frozen shredded zucchini, and so many pickles. A month ago, I had nightmares about pickles.

To celebrate, here are a few pear recipes that I hope you enjoy. The first one I made up, but the second is from the Blue Book of Canning. This is the Bible of food preservation.

Crock Pot Spiced Pearsauce  
just like applesauce, but made with pears

1 tbs ground cinnamon
1 tbs ground ginger
1 cup water
lots and lots of pears (approx 10 lbs)

Place water and spices at the bottom of the crock pot. Peel and core pears. Add pears until the crock pot is almost full. Cover and cook on low for about 9 hours.

When the pears are ready, you can mash them yourself with a potato masher or food mill or, if you'd rather the pearsauce a little less chunky, you can put it through the blender.

Makes about 9 cups.


Pear Butter
makes about 8 pints

6-7 lbs pears (about 20 medium)
1/2 cup water
4 cups sugar
1/3 cup orange juice
1 tsp orange zest
1/2 tsp nutmeg

If you are planning on canning the pear butter, wash and sterilize all jars.

Peel, core, and chop pears. In a large saucepan, combine pears and water. Cook until pears are softened, about 20 minutes.

Mash or blend pears, then combine with remaining ingredients. Cook, stirring occasionally, until mixture is thickened. Process, freeze, or refrigerate.

Blessed be.

Arthur starts school next Tuesday. School supplies have been bought and left in his locker. His first week menu has been planned. His bus ride has been scheduled. It's all become so real. I've been excited for this day for five years and I find myself - surprisingly - a bit sad. 

I love vegetables. It's a sickness, really, but I'll sneak grated zucchini into lasagne, substitute spaghetti squash for noodles, and dry kale chips for snacks. But...I have a shaming confession to make...

...I have never before had swiss chard!

Truly embarrassing, I know.

When I thought we'd be living at the farm, I purchased a CSA from Taste the Color, located just five miles away in Lomira. We ended up in Beloit, so my dad has been the recipient of these boxes, which he has shared with us when he comes to visit. He's brought pickling cucumbers, lettuce, green beans, and, most recently, swiss chard.

What was I going to do with that? I wondered.

So, I did what I always do...experiment!

Here are the delicious results:

On the Menu: Bacon and Swiss Chard Stromboli
Serves 4

Dough:
1 1/4 tsp yeast
3/4 cup warm water
1 tsp sea salt
1/2 tbs sugar
1/4 cup plus 2 tbs olive oil
1 3/4 cups flour
oil for greasing the pan

Filling:
3 strips bacon, diced
1/2 lb swiss chard, roughly chopped
1 tbs vegetable broth
1/2 cup swiss cheese, grated

For the dough:
Mix together yeast, water, salt, sugar, and olive oil. Let sit for five minutes. Stir in flour and let sit for 2 hours, or use immediately. Spread on a well-greased cookie sheet or pizza pan.

For the filling:
Place chopped bacon into skillet over medium heat. When bacon is almost crisp, throw in the swiss chard and vegetable broth and saute until wilted. Place filling in the center of the dough and sprinkle on the grated cheese. Wrap up the filling - almost like a calzone - and cut some holes in the top.

Bake at 350 degrees for about 20 minutes. Raise temperature to 400 degrees and bake until the top is golden brown, about 10 minutes.

Note: To make this meal vegetarian, omit the bacon and add six cloves of garlic, minced, and 1 tbs butter to the swiss chard. Saute until wilted, then proceed as indicated.

Blessed be.

I have mixed feelings about going grey. On one hand, I have to accept that I'm getting older and that eventually I will perish. Not anytime soon (I hope), but it's becoming clear that I am simply mortal and my time is fixed.

On the other hand, I relish in the fact that I am getting older. I know a little something about life. I feel a little wiser and I've had enough amazing experiences to be satisfied if I died presently.

I can safely say that I am comfortable with death. It doesn't make me any less afraid of what is after or distressed if there isn't an after. This doesn't mean that I now what happens when you die; I don't. I am still ignorant about that fact.

Life and death are a balance. You can't have one without the other. So, my friends, enjoy those experiences while you can. Be brave. Experiment. Have adventures. Live with little regret. Cherish loved ones. Above all, be happy. Be fulfilled. If you aren't these things, what kind of life are you living?

Blessed be.

Since our move to Wisconsin, we've eaten a lot of fresh green beans. We eat them raw for snacks. I saute or blanch them as a side. We even pickled 6 pounds of green beans this weekend for future treats. I'm a bit surprised none of the boys have screamed, "Enough with the green beans, Mom!"

My favorite way to eat them, I've discovered, is in this delicious salad. If you are a vegetarian like a few of my faithful readers are, you can omit the bacon and bacon grease and saute the beans in garlic olive oil or coconut oil. The flavor of the bacon grease is really wonderful, even though it's not the healthiest thing you could eat.

Bacon and Green Bean Salad
Serves 8
4 slices bacon, cooked and crumbled
2 tbs - 1/4 cup bacon grease (to taste)
2 lbs fresh green beans
1/4 cup roasted sunflower seeds or toasted almonds

Dressing:
1/2 cup mayonaise
1/4 cup kale
1/4 cup fresh parsley (or basil or cilantro)
1/4 cup green or white onion
1 clove garlic, minced
juice of 1/2 lemon
salt and pepper, to taste

Cook bacon, reserve bacon grease.

Blend all dressing ingredients in a blender until well mixed. Set aside.

Heat bacon grease and then saute half of the green beans until bright green. Remove from pan and add more bacon grease, if needed. Saute remainder of the green beans. When cooked, set aside with the other half of the green beans.

Pour sauce onto green beans and mix well to incorporate. Sprinkle bacon and sunflower seeds on the top. Serve immediately.

Blessed be.

I've had to rely on public and alternative forms of transportation for a few weeks now. It's kind of fun and refreshing and brings out my inner hippie. I've lost a few more pounds and hope to make my pre-Balin weight by the end of the summer. The plethora of cheap vegetables have helped, too.

My only gripe is that Beloit is not very bike-friendly (neither was Fairbanks, so that isn't much of a change). There are few bike paths - with the exception of our hip and/or edgy downtown - and the sidewalks are really, really crummy, especially in our neighborhood. In some areas, the sidewalks actually disappear and reappear several blocks later. It's weird and unsettling. I can't really explain it except to say that the city planning committee in Beloit is probably made up of five-year-olds.

I bought a new bike trailer. The wheels come off and it folds up so that you can store it easier. It's pretty posh. The boys love it. We found a nearby park and I plan to take the boys there often. Every Friday the boys and I ride eight miles (round trip) to the grocery store and do our shopping. The trailer is invaluable.  

It's also difficult only having a bike though, because while I would love to volunteer, I don't have time except on evenings or weekends. I don't feel comfortable biking at night, so that leaves weekends. I miss having people depend on me. I miss having a purpose, so even though I'm settling in, I still feel a bit lost here.

Blessed be.

My dad came to visit this weekend for a couple of days. He loves going on fun outings so he took us to Lake Geneva which is about 40 miles away. The boys weren't too excited about the drive over, but they were thrilled to be at such a large body of water. They watched boats, splashed in the water, and played some instruments.

The lighting was perfect (I even saw a couple getting their engagement pictures taken!) and I managed to get some lovely photographs of the boys. They must have been in a cooperative mood because they sat down when I asked them to and even posed when necessary. (The promise of ice cream must have been quite a lure. It was awesome ice cream, so well worth it!) 

They spotted fireflies in the fields we drove past on the way home. Arthur discovered that some of the lights looked yellow and some looked white. Balin repeated, "Butts light up!" all the way back.

We are all looking forward to checking out some of the other places around Wisconsin and Illinois. Any place that has water or a beach should be a hit with the boys.

Blessed be.

 Shopko is starting to get rid of their summer stock of vegetables and flowers so I decided to get the boys each a tomato plant. Their pots and potting soil were outrageously expensive, so we bought their pots at the Jo-Ann's right next door (you can't beat 70% off!). I might even stop by at a later date a pick up a few more pots for next summer's gardening or future houseplants. After picking up some soil at the Ace Hardware down the street, we were ready to plant the tomatoes!

Both plants have a tomato, so we'll have at least one for each boy. Hopefully there will be many, many more!

Blessed be.

The boys got to shoot off fireworks for the first time on July fourth because by the time mid-summer rolled around, we had about 22 hours of daylight in Fairbanks. You couldn't see the fireworks, although we often heard them.

One of the neighbor kids shot off fireworks with us. 

The boys also saw fireflies for the first time. They were amazed that "their butts light up." One of these nights we'll have to get a lidded jar and capture a few for the boys to watch.

Blessed be.

Apologies, dear readers. This spring and early summer had been very, very busy for me. I have just now stopped unpacking (mostly because we need more furniture...without it I cannot place books on shelves) and have been setting the apartment in order.

To be perfectly clear, we are not on the farm. Robinson accepted a job in Beloit, so we have settled there for the time being. Eventually we may decide to live in Janeville or even Milton, but since we don't have a car and still have a giant mortgage to pay until our house in Fairbanks is sold, we're kind of stuck. He's making more than he was before, but we're still pinching pennies (and if the Gods are kind, hopefully not for long)!

The boys took to farm life quite readily. The second day we were there, Arthur caught a frog (well, I caught it. Arthur carried it around in a bucket). Later, when we would go on walks, we would find juvenile frogs hopping across the road and Arthur became quite adept at catching them. Robinson was impressed at Arthur's prowess. The frog in this picture was the biggest one we found. His name is Sir Hops-A-Lot and he used to live in a crack in the sidewalk outside the farmhouse door. I'm not sure where he's moved to now.

I wasn't sure how the boys would handle the numerous thunderstorms we had during the four weeks we were at the farm. They didn't complain about the noise and never seemed fearful. They happily played in the puddles that formed in the driveway the morning after a storm, so really there was nothing to worry about.

For a time, the boys wanted to wear nothing but their puddle boots - even in hot weather and when the ground lacked puddles. People noticed and would often say something, but they didn't care. They seemed oblivious to the comments and still wore them whenever they could. They still prefer to wear puddle boots over any other type of footwear, even when it isn't raining.

Balin and Arthur had a wonderful visit with their cousins, Molly and Ella. Molly and Arthur are only five months apart and Ella and Balin are about a year apart. However, Ella is so small that I'm surprised more people don't mistake her for being much younger than she is.

Surprisingly, there weren't too many issues among the kids. When there were, it was usually sibling confrontations rather than cousin conflicts. They planted tomatoes, peppers, kohlrabi, and peas in the garden. They walked to the train tracks and watched the corn grow. We counted 126 train cars on a single engine. We caught and held frogs. We picked flowers and leaves. They did puzzles together. They watched movies together. They played "Mommy and Daddy" - a favorite new game which resembled "House" of my childhood. They rode bikes around the driveway. Molly discovered she could ride a bike without training wheels. Arthur and Balin were a little sad when we finally moved out to our apartment and I think Molly and Ella were going to be a little bored without Arthur and Balin.  

He's got such a sweet smile, doesn't he?

The farmhouse was built in the 1940s. There's a barn, an old silo, a grainery, milk house, and trailer on the property. It's very picturesque, but I could never get the kids to cooperate to do some photo experimentation. Balin was my only child who really stood still, but not long enough to get the settings on my camera figured out. These two are the best of the bunch, but I think they would have been much, much better given enough time and more patience (on the kids' part). The stone walls, ivy, and painted red wood are such an attractive combination. The next time we head out to the farm, I plan on taking some pictures of the boys. And I will bribe them if I have to...

...with watermelon!

A new obsession with the boys. Every time we went to a Piggly-Wiggly, they would beg for watermelon. Not that I could blame them; watermelon (and most fruit, actually) here is so much tastier than in Fairbanks. Or Anchorage for that matter. As much as I miss Alaska, I don't miss the outrageous prices for produce and the poor quality. I could go on and on, but more on that later.

Back in April when I thought we'd be living at the farm, I bought a CSA share in Lomira, about five minutes away from the farm. I was really excited that I'd be spending $15 a week on amazing produce. Dad laughed at me and joked that with all the rain they'd been getting in the area, all I'd end up getting would be nothing but rhubarb. Imagine his surprise when I received my first box with garlic, green onions, two kinds of lettuce, asparagus, radishes, turnips, and kale...all of it beautiful and organic! Needless to say, he was very excited to see what would be coming in future boxes!

The kids were excited to try the radishes and the turnips. The turnips were so good raw. I'd never had raw spring turnips before as turnips are a fall vegetable in Alaska, but they reminded me of very mild kohlrabi.

If there's one thing about living in Wisconsin I'm looking forward to, it's the produce and the cheap food. Both weeks we've been shopping has brought our food budget down to $60/week. It's going to be interesting to see how long that lasts.

Gloria had also visited the farm while we were there. We cleaned out an entire bedroom of clutter and then painted it and brought in some furniture. She, Arthur, and I also did a bit of gardening. We took a trip to Mothe Lake. The boys had quite a time digging in the sand. We also went to the Theresa Community-Wide Garage Sale where she kindly bought Arthur a real bike. He can now ride it and wants to take it everywhere.

This was a very long post. Hopefully I will not have this much to say in the future, but it has been a while since I've shared. I hope you've enjoyed the update!

Blessed be. 

Moving. We are moving.

Sometimes it hasn't quite sunk in that pretty soon we will be on a plane to Chicago. About 2 1/2 weeks, in fact.

I've been making headway on cleaning out the garage. About 10 boxes have already been packed, mostly with books, puzzles, and games. Nothing we can't live without for a few months. I've bought packaging tape and consolidating packaging supplies. I've even started gathering together picture frames and piling them together. I've even (sob!) gotten rid of most of my sewing supplies and fabric.

Craigslist has been a really good means to get rid of this excess stuff. I don't mind fielding the calls and meeting odd people for the exchanging of goods. I do mind that most people seem to be rather flaky when it comes to picking up their stuff. And that makes me irritated because I don't have a lot of time left here and Craigslist is not Robinson's thing. He just barely tolerates Craigslist and the people who frequent it. Don't get me wrong - he has many other wonderful qualities that I love, but he's no help in the unloading of our stuff via Craigslist.

Our phone and email was ringing all afternoon and evening from people calling to ask questions about our merchandise and to make arrangements to pick it up. I'd say about 50% of our stuff disappeared. The rest is in limbo...waiting to go to homes because, well, people are flaky.

The garage is starting to look emptier. At least I have that.

Blessed be.

Dear Arthur,

This year you decided to have a big party at Chena Hot Springs and go swimming there. Since this would be your last party with all of your Fairbanks friends, we agreed.

You wanted to have sandwiches and chips with carrot cake and homemade vanilla ice cream for dessert.

It was a fun party. First you and your friends swam in the pool. Then you had lunch. Then you opened presents and had cake and ice cream. After that, you and your friends played at the playground and explored the surrounding area. The weather was pretty nice considering there was still so much snow on the ground. It was a lovely spring day.

This party, while amazingly fun, saddened me. I will miss your friends (and my friends) so much. Perhaps we will go up to Fairbanks someday and visit everyone.
 
 I hope that the next year brings you happiness, my dear boy. Sometimes I have trouble relating to you because you are so much like me. I see so much of myself in you and I may criticize you, but I still love you, faults and all. You are my firstborn and as such, you will always hold a special place in my heart.

Love, Mommy

Blessed be.

I love to write.

I've always had a big imagination. I made up stories as a kid. Stories about aliens, Bigfoot, spaceships. I'd jot these ideas down, crafting plot twists and developing characters. Sometimes I find these stories when I clean out old papers or files and I take a moment to savor them.

Some of my faithful readers have commented that they love my writing. I thank you for that. Deeply, in fact. I've been told on numerous occasions that I am a horrific writer, that I cannot string together coherent thoughts. Those comments came from my Master's advisor. They were heart-breaking. It's difficult to love something but be told that you utterly suck at it.

Fast-forward several years. I am no longer in a Master's program. I no longer have to deal with people who criticize me instead of support me. I want to become a better writer.

I have never posted fiction here and the only time I ever allow anyone to read my fiction is when I create backstories for my RPG characters (so if you did not realize the extent of my nerdiness, you do now).

I found some time tonight to write part of a piece I'm working on. Most of it is in my head, but I am hoping that I will be able to find more time to work on it. Maybe someday it will turn into something other than just a file in the cloud. Until then, here's the first installment.

I hope you like it, dear readers.

Blessed be.

* * *

Prologue

It was said that when war could not be waged, it would only be postponed.

For a century, this proved to be true.

In these hundred years civilians lived and died in honest living, unsuspecting the web of lies and deceit misguided politicians and military leaders whispered to another: The Nilian wanted freedom. The Tryska did not.

War, however, is not so black and white. An enemy to the Nilian is a hero to the Tryska, and it is the same for the Tryska and Nilian.

It was said that long, long ago Tryskan colonists inhabited the Daborr System, extending as far as they could possibly reach. Any planet that could sustain life did. These colonists built great cities and harvested resources while the Tryskan aristocracy unbuttoned their belts and devoured the wealth of the planets. At first, the people relinquished, indebted to the Tryska for their survival even though it was a single step higher than slavery.

Then came furious whispers of equality, freedom, and wealth for all. The Tryskan aristocracy attempted to soothe this burn, but it was too late. The Nilian movement, born from heated words and broken committments, proved an unfortunate development. It enveloped the poor, political, lovers of liberty, and bohemians alike; all who wished for nothing more than the means to live in the way they deemed fit.

Some colonies did not embrace the movement, but also they refused the Tryskan. These colonies remained neutral until one by one they fell with negotiated promises of health care, education, and expanded trade. Some supported the Nilian movement; others the old Tryskan aristocracy. In the end, only three planetary colonies remained fully neutral: Ploss, Kluane, and Vori. To this day, it is still so.

~ Exerpt from Daborr System: A History by historian and politician Jorroll F. Shren

Dear Balin,

Happy second birthday. It was a peaceful day, with only three friends over. Their older siblings had been banished to play mini-golf with the dads. I had brought the outdoor yard toys inside for you and your friends to play with. They had a blast, especially with the slide.

Lunch was simple: fruit, quiche, and cake. Your friend Slate enjoyed the berries. Everything was gluten-free because we wanted to make sure that our friend Hillary could eat, too. The cake was pretty good for having garbanzo beans in it.

You loved the stickers and noisemaker best from your pal Sage. It's a pity we won't be able to take the noisemaker to Wisconsin with us.

You've grown so much, my sweet baby. You still don't vocalize much, but you know your signs and communicate well. I look forward to hearing your voice when you finally do speak.

Love, Mommy

Blessed be.

Three weeks ago, Robinson accidentally trashed the car. On his way home, he slipped on a patch of ice, the car spun, and he ended up crashing into the cement divider. He was fine. The boys and I were home, not with him, so we were very lucky there.

The insurance company deemed the car totaled. We happily took the money and paid off the car loan and even had some extra. Not enough for another car, but unlike last time, we had plenty of time to figure out our next move.

We scoped out cars on Craigslist. We found one that would fit everyone and that was somewhat inexpensive and asked our friend Mark to come out and take a look at it. While we were checking out the van, Mark mentioned that Kevin (their boss) had an extra truck. Mark called Kevin, and it was done. We'd borrow Kevin's truck for the duration of our life in Fairbanks.

Enter yesterday.

We returned the rental car. Started up the truck. I went home. Got everyone ready for preschool after lunch. Got in the truck. Started it up. Got stuck in the 5 (or so) inches of snow in the driveway. Then the truck dies.

Crap, crap, crap!!!

I called up Robinson and told him the truck died. He said he and Kevin would come by and fix it. They did and managed (with some fancy maneuvering) to get the truck out of the driveway. It was quite evident that the truck was not going to work.

Here's the kicker: On the way to Kevin's house to drop of the truck and come up with an alternate plan, a woman runs a red light and smashes into Kevin's brand new Mercedes. Why couldn't she have hit the crappy truck instead???

It's enough to make a person swear off cars forever. Believe me, if we were not moving to rural Wisconsin, I would seriously consider it.

Poor Robinson. He was in the Mercedes. He feels like a car jinx.

I don't know what to feel. The only thing that's keeping me from going crazy is donating unwanted stuff and posting items on Craigslist.

I'm just glad we're almost gone. Not that things will be any better in Wisconsin, but a change of scenery will be nice.

Very nice.

Blessed be.

There's a point somewhere in February or March when winter has completely latched onto your soul. The sun's absence darkens your outlook so that even the most optimistic person becomes a grave pessimist.

In all seriousness, though, I don't feign to love Alaskan winters. But I don't mind the dark or the cold, and as a child I have many happy memories of playing outside for hours on end. Our parents dragged us (kicking and screaming) inside for dinner. As an adult, I do not actively (or happily) engage winter. The temperatures can regularly dip to -40F in December and January - sometimes even well into February - here in Fairbanks and it's...well...exhausting.

When the Equinox arrives, I'm ready for shorts and tank tops, but the world (at least here in Alaska) isn't. It will be another two months or so before it will be time to dust off those summer clothes.

This is probably why Alaskans love summer.

Still, spring can be nice, very nice, and as a result, we tend to be outside more. If there's one thing to say about Fairbanks, it's that the community certainly does celebrate incoming summer.

We went to the Ice Park in early March and then again with our school mates a week later. The boys loved the slides and the sculptures, but most of all they loved a little kid-sized train that they could crawl through and slide down. The picture above is of them inside the train. I arranged the settings manually!

Early spring break, my aunt sent me a newsletter from the Hallmark Store with a picture of a gingerbread birdhouse in it. She knew we make gingerbread houses every year and wanted to share this idea with us. I thought for sure I'd have to make a template myself, but when I double-checked, I discovered the template was included. Whew! The boys decorated a house each: Arthur loved decorating. Balin loved eating the frosting.

The boys love dogs. I have no idea where they get this fondness because we don't own a dog. We have friends who do and they love animals. So I guess it isn't very surprising, but it still amuses me.

The one truly Alaskan activity that the boys will probably miss is mushing. Every year since Arthur was two we've gone to the Open North Classic downtown to watch the sprints. Because the distance is so much shorter than the Quest, the dogs run in or run out every few minutes. It's perfect for young kids with short attention spans because you can watch about five dog teams and then leave and the kids still feel like they've seen something special without having to freeze if it happens to be a cold spring day.

Arthur took his very first dog sled ride at preschool and loved it. As much as it pains me to admit, we will probably return to Fairbanks someday to watch the Yukon Quest...in February, long before spring! 

Welcome, Spring!

Blessed be.

In Wicca, everything is circular. Life is a part of death. The imaginary path that we follow from life to death isn't straight; rather it is curved, meandering, and sometimes wanders. If this path were straight, life wouldn't nearly be as interesting.

I apologize, dear readers, for not updating this blog regularly. Things here have been busy. We had a visit from my mom and my dad is about to visit. There's talk of a sister coming up to retrieve some of my parents' stuff from our garage at the end of the month. I've been tossing, recycling, craigslisting, and giving things away. I've been trying to see people we haven't seen regularly. It's been a series of ups and downs.

The weekend before last was a big low. I won't go into details except to say that I cried in front of Arthur. I think I confused him and may have also frightened him.

I gave away some of my craft and sewing items last weekend. I hope everyone that took something can use it because obviously I didn't. I still have a lot left, but there are so many organizations in town that could probably use this stuff that I'm not worried.

Early this week, a call about a very last-minute house showing which didn't happen. Yesterday, a house showing. I wonder if there will be more or if we'll have to sign a new contract in 6 months. It's a little depressing and I worry. I worry that we'll want to leave, but the house will still be in our possession. We're not planning on renting. We just want it gone. It's a waiting game (which is a game I've always been a bit of a loser).

My thoughts are a bit jumbled tonight and I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. My path deviates from the meadow, to the woods, to a glacier, to a desert...I hope it will straighten out soon.

Blessed be.

I've always envisioned my life as a series of chapters. I'm not sure if everyone imagines their life in this way, but I do. I enjoy the ease at which I can recall life events, simply by placing it into a chapter. So far, my life divides into the following chapters:

Chapter One: Babyhood (Fairbanks/North Pole)
Chapter Two: Growing up in Barrow, Alaska
Chapter Three: Adjusting to Anchorage, High School
Chapter Four: College, Washington
Chapter Five: Early Marriage, A Masters, and Back to Fairbanks, Alaska

And now; my dear, faithful readers; I am about to add a new chapter to my life. 

Robinson and I have been discussing a change lately. We're stagnant here in Fairbanks and it has been impossible for us to get ahead (not just financially, but emotionally and physically as well). As of just two weeks ago, Robinson has been applying for jobs in Wisconsin and we've both decided that we'll be leaving regardless of his job status.

Our target exit is May since I was already planning to take the kids to Wisconsin, but realistically it will depend on how soon we sell the house, how soon Robinson acquires employment, and how soon we can pack our belongings.

As I've been processing it, I've concluded that this is the perfect time to go. Arthur will be starting kindergarten and has no ties to a school that he loves. Balin is so young that he doesn't understand and therefore won't care where he is as long as he's with the people he loves. While I've made so many friends here and volunteer for many causes, I can easily do that anywhere. Plus, I have so many connections in Wisconsin that the transition should be easier than moving to a brand new place.

We will be living at my grandmother's 1940's farmhouse. When Grandma died a couple of years ago, my dad and my aunt inherited the farmhouse and land. Neither one of them could live there permanently though: my aunt was still working full-time and although my dad was retired my mom was not.

They've had some issues finding a reliable person to live there. My dad's cousin burned some of the clutter in the house without his consent. Now a neighbor attending the local university is house-sitting, but my aunt and father are paying him to live there. Hopefully this new arrangement will be a win-win for everyone. We get a house, rent-free (minus general upkeep costs and utilities), and my father and aunt have us to take care of the house. Since the cost of living is so much lower down there, we'll be able to save up a lot more money than we ever could here. Not having a house payment will certainly help! 

I've always fantasized about living on my grandparent's farm and it's soon to become a reality. When I discussed the idea with my aunt, she laughed and said that she wondered if Grandma didn't have a hand in it somehow. I often wonder that, too.

I can picture the boys riding tractors. Playing in the dirt. Helping me can fruits and vegetables. Collecting eggs from our chickens. Exploring the farm. I am highly romanticizing the situation, I realize that, but it's hard not to. Fairbanks has been a fun adventure, but it's time for something new. I'm looking forward to it.

Blessed be. 

Eons ago I worked at the Boys and Girls Club of the Tanana Valley. It was a lot like working at the Children's Museum of Tacoma or The Imaginarium, but the Club was real. Fo' sure.

Imagine my surprise and pleasure when an old co-worker messaged me on Facebook and asked if I wanted to serve on the board as part of their fundraising committee.

I'll lay it out for you right now: I hate soliciting. I hate asking people for money (unless its owed). And I hate bugging people to donate auction items. Some people are very good at acquiring all kind of goodies; me, my only donations to the auction were some chocolate bars in a pig cookie jar, another dessert, and a new baby basket. It wasn't that I didn't try, I really, really did. I had high hopes of purchasing a table with some friends, but that didn't work out. Instead, it was just two of us: my friend Lisa, who also worked for the Boys and Girls Club a few years before I did, was my date.

In an effort to aid the cause and in the spirit of volunteerism, I agreed to help with the finances later that evening. I figured if I didn't get the number of donations I wanted to, at least I could donate my time.

Silent Auctions are funny things. I'll be the first to admit that I had never heard of them before I moved up here, but they are extremely popular. Almost every event in town has one, even if it is just a tiny table in the corner. I almost never bid on anything. I did see some really cute antiques. I regrettably did not even try to bid on because I am not a millionaire and could not pay $160 for three glass milk jugs from the Golden Creamery. I bid on only one thing: three pounds of bacon from Homegrown Market at $47. Looking back at it now, I would have been crazy to pay $15/lb for bacon, even if their bacon is amazing. Lisa, in an effort to drive up the price, bid on many items.

She told me a story from her days working for Scott Kawasaki, a local political figure. They had gone to a fundraiser with a small silent auction and as they were perusing, he told her to bid to drive up the price of the items. At the end of the night, she was left with a number of items and was out $75.

This time she was out $467.

I knew she couldn't afford it. She's currently trying to get her Master's degree and is working two jobs to afford her tuition, rent, and the general necessities of life. I doubled checked the bid sheets and asked her to sort them into what she actually wanted and what she didn't. I also bought one of her items off of her: a lovely white purse (my birthday present!). By the time it was said and done, we had whittled the charges down to $125, manageable for a college student. If I get called on it, I will tell them the truth. I'm not in any way ashamed of what I did. I would have considered it to be in bad taste (and bad Karma) to let her walk away with that financial stress, especially since I invited her to the event.

After I got Lisa squared away, I took a deep breath and entered my own bid number, ready to see a number larger than I would have liked (damn you, bacon!). Luckily, Providence (Karma, the Universe) smiled upon me: $85. Oh, thank goodness! Someone outbid me on the bacon!

The best part of the night, though, was seeing a woman retreat to her table with both of my desserts. I approached her and said, "I see you won both of my desserts."

She shook her head and pointed to a woman to her left. "No, she did." She had placed a homemade twix bar on her plate.

I looked over at the other woman and said, "I hope you like them!" By this time, the cookie jar and the twix bars had made a round around the table and there were audible oohs and ahhs. (I flushed with pleasure inside.)

Her boyfriend/husband/significant other asked, "Where did you get this cookie jar?"

I told him that I had won it in a family auction and that my father had gotten it from garage sale or Fred Meyer, I didn't know which.

He said that it was perfect because the two of them were from Iowa! Seriously, how could a pig driving a corn car not be the perfect gift for the couple from Iowa? I was so happy that that little pig found its way to a couple who would really enjoy him and that he no longer had to sit in my garage, collecting dust.

"I'm so glad you like him!" I exclaimed, taking a mental note to tell Dad about this. He would laugh and laugh in his giddy way when he was excited about something.

Blessed be.

My birthday was this weekend.

I was inspired to write 33 goals that I wanted to complete, but then something came up.

I won't go through the details just yet. It's one of those things that must percolate a while before anything is to be done about it. But I'm impatient. I want an answer now.

Last year my father took me to a local Chinese restaurant and my fortune read, "Welcome change." It was so utterly and amazingly appropriate. A year later, it's still apt. Maybe even more now.

I'll leave you with that. Hopefully in another week or two I will have more news to share.

Blessed be.

Busy.

The boys are all in bed, alseep. Tonight I am alone. It's peaceful except for the low hum of the dehydrator. The vegetable crackers it contains will be delicious.

I've got thoughts swimming through my head - mostly things I'll be doing tomorrow, but I'm also reflecting on this month. On the last year. On life.

You see, on Saturday I will be 33. I don't consider myself old, I have not reached that privilege, not yet, but I'm no longer that "young." I am so distant from today's teens and early 20-somethings that I probably could not have a fulfilling conversation with them. Not in the slightest.

In Wicca, life is a cycle. We are born, we live, we die. I don't claim to know what happens to us after that. What matters is what we do in our life and what we pass on to others. Everything that happens to you, every experience or event that occurs teaches you something about yourself. I've come to realize that while I am shaped by those experiences, I also have the power to shape myself. I can dictate the person I become. I choose to do good things or bad things. I make conscious decisions about how I treat people. I decide what I want.

Birthdays are good times to reflect. They force us to examine the things we've done and the thngs we haven't. Our lives suddenly become a little more meaningful on a birthday because our mortality is staring us in the face. Someday, just as we were born on a special day, we will also die. It is inevitable.

I've done a lot in my 3+ decades. I've got a Master's degree. I'm a mother. I've traveled overseas. I volunteer for local organizations. I quilt. I constantly try new things.

But I've also made mistakes. Some serious, some minor. But I've learned from all of them. Life is a process.

Live it. Just live your life. You will always make mistakes.

Just don't have any regrets.

Blessed be.

I am a firm believer in new beginnings. I love new places, new sites, new adventures, new projects.

Can you see what's new in my living room?

It's very subtle...

It has nothing to do with the naked baby on the couch...

Give up?

When we shampooed the carpet (last shampooed in 2010 and not very thoroughly), I also painted the walls! They are a beautiful green now - the same color as the bedroom.

I am in love.

This summer I hope to do some more interior as well as exterior TLC, but I can't say much more (or I will rouse the suspicions of my darling husband) except to say: sunny yellow.

Blessed be.