Life Imitating Art

So we had a dilemma. One we were able to avoid last year because we spent the holidays in Utah. The problem: our fake tree does not fit in our old, lower-ceilinged house. Having grown up with a real tree, I already have a few problems with owning an artificial tree, so the thought of buying a second fake tree was an issue. Well, we started a new New York tradition thanks to the suggestion from a friend. We visited a local tree farm and cut our own tree. (There are definite perks to living out in the country.)

Perhaps waiting until the 17th is cutting it a little close, but we wanted to wait until Randal came home from his looooong trip. We picked him up from the airport and headed to the tree farm, hoping to make it there before the sun went down.

We made it. We had a great time. And now we have a beautiful, yet sorta ugly (perfect, tree symmetry is argualbly an advantage with the fakies) living tree.

Fun fact: John, from the tree farm, told us it takes 14 years to grow a tree this tall. They plant 2500 trees every year and sell about 800.

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The thought occured to me. Our little excursion was, in fact, a case of life imitating art. Last year, Randal's parents gave us this picture for Christmas:

Because the children looked so much like Ethan and Addie they thought it was the perfect gift to commemorate our first Christmas in the New England area. We love it. Now the picture seems even more fitting.

I wonder if the three-year-old girl in the painting screamed and yelled at her older brother to let her pull the heavy tree, "all by myself!" too. Because ours did.

Now we have our dad back and everything is right with the world again. We hope you're having a very, merry Christmas whether it be fake or real.

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PS--I posted very little while Randal was away. I'm still not sure why that is, but I will soon make amends. Both my mom and my dad came to visit. I have the best parents in the world and have alot to say about the time we spent with them. Stay tuned.

R&R (Rest and Renovation)

As I said, Randal has been gone for quite some time. He did fly home for a whirlwind Thanksgiving weekend. And this was the aftermath:


Yes, that is our first floor ceiling.
Yes, that is Randal's foot.
And no, we were not planning on remodeling that part of the house. It just happened.

Catch-Up

Only one post in all of November. Shameful. Well, I'm back from my self-imposed exile.

There's two reasons for the absence.

First, Randal has been gone for six weeks. And in the meantime the kids and I have been hybernating.

But mostly: I hate Internet Explorer.

Something really wonky is going on with our computer. Firefox isn't working. The computer keeps freezing. And so one month later, I find myself out of the habit.

If I'm honest, there is a third reason. I think the honeymoon phase with my blog is now over. I need to redefine our relationship.

An Update

Ethan

1. Recently bore his testimony in Sacrament Meeting for the first time. He wrote out what he wanted to say beforehand and bravely delivered a wonderful testimony. I was so proud of him.

2. Now owns his very first pairs of boxer/brief underwear. He is feeling very proud and very grown up in his "dad" underwear. Three days in a row he begged me to let him take an extra pair to school to show his friends just how awesome they are.

3. Is certain the nasty, local buffet is the perfect place to treat our friends to dinner. According to him it is the "best place in the world." I'm thinking we would no longer be able to call them friends if we did.

4. Ethan is so helpful (once I can get him to listen) and is generally a happy kid. I feel so lucky to be his mom.

Adelaide

1. Must have gained 10 pounds in the last few months. All of a sudden she is a burden to carry. Why on earth am I carrying her? You ask. Well, she's my baby and I can't help myself. Plus, she tends to walk rather slowly into Target and it's getting cold!

2. What color is your house? Is her first question for just about everyone. She now associates people by the color of their houses. And you would really make her day if you told her your house is made of brick. That's her favorite.

3. The other day she came to me with a half-eaten Ritz cracker. "Look, Mom," she said, "I ate it into an octagon." It was a pentagon, but I didn't have the heart to break it to her.

4. Despite the fact that this girl has decided to make me the adversary in just about everything, she is still one of the favorite parts of my day.

A Recap

The week brought...

Our dad back home. Yeah!

A class on machine quilting for me with a needed break from home for the evening. Machine quilting is a skill I've always wanted to have but felt I could never learn. Now I'm feeling it's not as allusive as I had imagined. Just needs a lot of practice.

Why the need for a break? The kids were on each other's cases a few times too many this week. Argh. Yet then there would be times like this and I would decide to postpone listing them on Craig's List. (For the time being.)


Our week also brought a Halloween party with the kids and their friends. Everyone seemed to have a great time. The witches brew was the biggest hit. Well, except with little Zoie. She emphatically informed us she was not allowed to drink beer. We assured her it was root beer. She wasn't allowed to drink any kind of beer, she said. After a phone call to her grandma she decided we could be trusted.


And with a break in the weather we were able to visit some nearby waterfalls and enjoy the fall leaves before they are gone.

(Randal and the kids up on the bridge waving.)

These falls are amazing. We're adding them to our list of favorite nearby places. Do they entice you to come and visit?

If you were to come you could help us solve a mystery. We stumbled across a strange hatch in the middle of the woods. We have a few theories...click here.

Sadly, our week ended with Randal leaving again. Hopefully we packed in enough fun to get us through until he comes home; otherwise I may find that hatch again and drop myself in.

Canning is NOT for Sissies

This was Thursday

(Ethan took this pictures by the way. I'm laughing because he wouldn't snap it until I was saying, "cheese!")

Friday

I can recall somewhere between ages 14 and 27 thinking (and possibly repeating out loud) I would never bottle my own food.

Never say never.

Funny how things don't seem so bad the older you get. And with grapes at 20 cents a pound (There, I said it again, Mom. I think I am rubbing it in.) how could I not bottle some grape juice.

I did have some help. But my friend has asked to remain nameless. For some reason she doesn't want to be linked with the hilarity of two rookies juggling boiling hot juice. Thanks, B--. I may have talked myself out of this without you.

Mistakes aside, we ended up with 38 bottles of delicious juice concentrate at say about 50 cents per bottle. (If you're counting the endless cash forked over for juicers, lids, electric bill, etc. it probably worked out to be more like $6.50 a jar. (I'm kidding. (I hope.))

There really were only a few casualties during the learning curve: a burned knuckle and ruining my old karate pants were about it. It's okay, I don't do karate anymore anyway.

Well, there were the ladybugs. I threw them away in the garbage because I felt too busy to let them go outside. What kind of cold, soulless person won't help a sweet, little ladybug to safety? I still feel really bad about that. So I guess you could say our juice did come at a high price.

And this was Saturday

Kicking back and watching Jim and Pam get married made it totally worth it. I got over the ladybugs.

So would I do it again? Next year, Baby! (I've got to get my money's worth out of that juicer.)





Apples? You ask.

What apples?

There are no apples needing to be bottled here. I think you may have my blog mixed up with someone else more motivated than I.





PS--Where was Randal during all of this?

Here.


Okay, not really. But he is traveling for business and missed the entire circus.

Convenient. Very convenient.

Apples To Apples

I remember, as a girl, going to fruit stands with my mom. It seems that in Utah much of that is now gone to make way for growth; so as an adult I haven't been in the same habit. We are now trying to take advantage of the number of places here where we can pick fruits and vegetables. This may just be my favorite part of living in NY. The latest: apples.


The big surprise to me: our kids love it. It was cold and rainy but they did not care. Initially we were going to pick enough apples for eating as I am not the most seasoned canner. But the kids had so much fun and did not want to quit. Now I've got to figure out what to do with all the apples.


This may be the post General Conference high speaking, but Randal and I both commented on what a different feel this kind of family activity had. Our kids seemed to sense it too. We just felt a lot of love for each other, and for Heavenly Father.

(I hope I'm still feeling that way after canning all these darn apples.)

Savant

This may be normal for all three-year-olds, but as her mother I have a right to think Adelaide is gifted. :)

The kids were fascinated when I enlarged and traced some pictures for Primary. They wanted to do the same. For nearly two hours Adelaide studiously traced every line. Remarkable!

She is also quite a chiropractor certain her methods will heal Daddy's hurt back. Saved us a $25 copay.


PS--Randal hurt his back playing basketball. All these "old" guys are trying to one up the young missionaries and keep getting injured. (And he wonders why I have so little sympathy.)

Roundtoit

Aspen believes she should receive a Mother of the Year award for sending her kids out in a backyard infested by bees. I say, you are in no way responsible for acts of Mother Nature. So, with the title of negligent mother back up for grabs I'd like to throw my hat in the ring.

This is my son in his current, cool weather pajamas. Sad. Sad. Sad. They should have been replaced last year, but I was too cheap and too lazy to get around to it. (I don't even know where the matching top went. I think it gave up the ghost and literally disintegrated in the washer.)


Realizing this year there would be no way his pajamas would keep him warm for the mere fact they no longer cover a majority of his body, I got off my duff and sewed him several PJ bottoms. Paired with knit shirts from #@!-Mart the cheap side of me was satisfied as well.


Such an embarrassing level of procrastination warrants cookies too. Don't you think?

If that's not enough to convince you I deserve the cookies, let me sweeten the pot. As we speak my son is lounging in his new pajamas after I picked him up from school for ralphing in class--all over himself and one of his classmates. What kind of mother sends her kid to school sick?

I win again.

DIY

Our kitchen is DONE! True, nine months behind schedule. But whose counting?

Before

At It's Worst

After

And now a stroll down memory lane...

I get that the before photos do not give a full picture of what it looked like. I wish we had taken a broader picture instead of a bunch of close-ups. Let me just say it was ick. And as you can see, the fridge, dishwasher, sink and stove were on top of each other leaving the only cupboard space to the upper cabinets.

So we pushed back this wall:

To make room for this:


Then we switched the location of the sink with the stove to make for a better counter configuration:


Randal added 7 can lights in the ceiling and, at the last minute, under cabinet lighting.


Really our kitchen has been functioning for many months but for one final detail--the tile back splash. We have worked on that for the past two weekends. After literally a total of 24 hours tiling we were about to light these matches and burn the joint down.


But when it was finished the effect was amazing and may just be my favorite part.


No, this is my favorite part:


So are we hanging up our DIY tool belts?

Nope.

At the present this is our master bathroom:


Oh, even in such a state it's not the worst of the bathrooms. This is:


Complete with it's matching shower curtain.


We've got a long way to go.

Earth

We picked up a movie for movie night from Redbox: Disney's Earth. Have you seen this?

I was doubtful my kids would stay interested. As it turns out, they were glued. They laughed and asked a ton of questions. Ethan could hardly abide that I was working on Primary stuff and not paying complete attention. They loved it so much we kept it another night. (We usually keep Redbox movies a second night, good or bad. I'm lazy.)

This is a great movie and I'm recommending it to all.

Ohi-Yo!

Okay, I'm really going to give you a blow-by-blow of our Labor Day weekend. It's going to be long, I'm not going to lie. But if you manage to make it to the end there will be a little visual treat for your patience.

We took a trip to Ohio to meet the Wessmans (from Michigan) for camping and visiting church sites. We had a great time. And that's an understatement.

Let me first say, I'm not much of a camper. It has something to do with my extreme aversion to public restrooms, dirt, mosquitoes, etc. This trip, however, has begun to change my mind. My kids loved it; which made me love it. And of course, it is always more fun to be with friends. Plus it helped that there were showers.

In the room of the Johnson Farm
where Joseph Smith received many important revelations.

We visited the Johnson farm first. There I realized I'm completely ignorant when it comes to church history.

Things I didn't know:

With the gift of prophecy back on the earth, Elsa Johnson wondered if the gift of healing had also been restored. Having never spoken of this, she met the prophet for the first time where he commanded her to be healed. Her incapacitated arm was instantly healed.

I'm familiar with the story of Joseph Smith being drug into the yard by a mob of men and tarred and feathered. I did not know it was while he and Emma were living at the Johnson's home. The next morning he preached from the steps of the home during Sunday service.

Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ not only appeared to Joseph in the grove, but here at the farm as well. It was here that the 76th section of the Doctrine and Covenants was revealed.

I didn't know that the wealthy Johnson family donated all their land and their beautiful home to fund the building of the Kirtland temple.

Near the Johnson farm is a u-pick raspberry patch. We couldn't resist fresh raspberries.

The campground where we stayed has a lake boasting a man-made beach. Let me just say, it's a nice thought to create a beach where there is none, but I think lakes should remain lakes and beaches beaches. The water was just too slimy. But then the kids did have great fun in the sand. And a splash park later on in the trip more than made up for the less than inviting lake water.

Perhaps the greatest part of the trip was Sunday. My aunt and uncle are missionaries at the Kirtland visitors center. We first attended Sacrament Meeting with them. And true to our Barker blood, Aunt Sheryl and I got a little teary when we saw each other. It's always great to be with family.

After church Elder and Sister Crosby were able to take us on the tour of the Kirtland site. And what an awesome place it is! The Newel K. Whitney store and home, the ashery and the Johnson Inn are just a few of the places to see.

Again, I did not know that both Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ appeared to Joseph Smith in the upper room of the store as well. Others were able to see the Lord too. While we were sitting in this upper room, Uncle Norman (Elder Crosby) had us read the testimony of John Murdock:

"During the winter of 1833 we had a number of prayer meetings in the Prophet's chamber. In one of those meetings the Prophet told us, if we could humble ourselves before God, and exercise strong faith, we should see the face of the Lord. And about midday, the visions of my mind were opened, and the eyes of my understanding were enlightened, and I saw the form of a man most lovely. The visage of His face was sound and fair as the sun. His hair a bright silver gray, curled in most majestic form, His eyes a keen penetrating blue, and the skin of his neck a most beautiful white. And He was covered from neck to the feet with a loose garment, pure white, whiter than any garment I have ever before seen. His countenance was most penetrating and yet most lovely...And while I was endeavoring to comprehend the whole personage from head to feet, it slipped from me. but it left on my mind the impression of love, for months that I never felt before to that degree."

Even though Adelaide was whining to be carried and asking non-stop for drinks, I really felt the spirit of this place. It was an integral period in the Church's history. I loved it.

And in the spirit of missions, I was able to talk a bit with a foreign exchange student from Russia. Man, does my Russian stink after nearly eleven years! I don't get too many opportunities like that. It wasn't until the end of our conversation that I realized she may not be a member of the church. I wish now I had asked her a few more questions. But then if I did, I probably would not have remembered how to ask them. (Sigh.)

We headed up the street to see the Kirtland Temple owned by the Community of Christ (RLDS). It was beautiful. We toured the inside. Changes have been made over the years; such as the temple, apparently, was not originally white. Much does remain the same and it really was a remarkable place to see.


Monday we packed up and parted ways with the Wessmans. Mike and Marinda, thanks for such a great weekend. Your kids are adorable. I think Ethan and Adelaide would have preferred Abby and Briton come home with us by how much fun they were having together. We look forward to another trip next year!

The rest of you are probably wondering about that treat I promised.

Well, on our way home we stopped in a town heavily populated with Amish, to gawk. We saw lots of horses and buggies. The kids were both excited and disgusted by all the horse poop along the sides of the road. They were so concentrated on it that they sometimes missed seeing the horses completely. We even stopped at an Amish yard sale (but alas, junk is junk no matter whose yard sale it is).

Your treat is this: the local Walmart has a special parking area, a buggy parking shed. I snapped a picture before this buggy's owner came out from the store. I love the irony of the nearby shopping cart.