Giving Thanks

It's been rather intensely busy here and before you know it, a month has flown by! I am constantly amazed how fast time moves. My son is almost a year old and getting very mobile. He can stand with help from furniture and he crawls as though he's racing everyone everywhere. :)
I must admit that I have struggled a lot this month to be thankful. There's been many things surrounding that, but it wouldn't be productive to share that here. Instead, God has been reminding me that the best cure for my discontent is to BE thankful and I thought I should share what I have to be thankful for. And as it's November that seems particularly appropriate.
Mark and I enjoyed a trip over to Cambridge to celebrate Thanksgiving with Brooke and Dan as well as several other lovely Christian friends. It was Colin's first time to Cambridge as well and we were blessed with a GORGEOUS Sunday in which to walk to church and share leftovers with the Newmans as well as lovely fellowship.
A week later we celebrated a second Thanksgiving in order to share that tradition with a large group of our British friends. It was a two turkey feast and my good friend Naomi kindly cooked the second one for us. Another kind friend lent us her home as there was no way 16 people were going to fit in our little flat!
And now we are the verge of the Christmas season (ask me and we're in it, ask Mark and he says wait til December 1st :) ) and I have pulled out all our Christmas decor. I was pondering that the last time I had this stuff out, my folks were here and my Dad and Mark enjoyed tossing our denuded tree over the railing of our first floor flat, rather than drag it down the stairs. And I had just given birth to a small new person. One who is currently figuring out the joys of ringing an oversized jingle bell.
Tomorrow we will take him to pick out our first tree as a family of three. It's been lovely and cold with lots of frost. Since the closest England usually gets to snow, I'm quite pleased. It will be just the right atmosphere for Christmas tree hunting.
These are all lovely things. But they are that-things. I know that I am not to look to outside surroundings and circumstances to find my contentment and happiness. But God has been kind to use those things to bring joy and He has reminded me that the reason the holidays are lovely for me is because I know WHY we celebrate. I have a Saviour to whom I can give thanks, and whose birth I am celebrating and whose comfort and love are not limited to the times when I'm feeling good and spiritually in order. He loves me when I'm a mess as well and that still boggles my mind.
So I am thankful. I'm excited for our season of anticipation. I am thankful for my loving and patient husband. I'm thankful for my sweet boy and the new things he does every day. I'm thankful for my family, a skype away, and friends on facebook, and fellowship with believers here. See you in December!

He gets around, from town to town, or at least from kitchen to hallway

Colin is becoming a little boy now. I see babyhood morphing into toddlerdom and while he isn't 'toddling' yet, he is certainly a travelling man. His rolling abilities are quite impressive. But that's not all. He's become more and more curious about his little world and toys with blinky lights are nothing compared to the fascination of Daddy's socks on the laundry rack.
He loves to bounce and sing to music, whether that is from Top Gear, Frank Sinatra on the computer or just Mummy singing him silly songs about toes. I have hope he will be quite musical. He loves to watch the trees outside our window as they blow in the wind and he REALLY loves spotting Daddy walking home from our window. The wiggling is intense.
He has also learned to wave and will do so with intent though occasionally he'll wave to a program on tv. Not sure what that is....
He loves to skype with his grandparents and is very excited when he sees them come on. He starts to blow through his paci and growl. Again, why he does this is a mystery but for him it expresses excitement and happiness. Of course the fact that Grandpa does the growling as well, may have something to do with it. He talks a lot to me  during the day and I would like to be flattered, but he also talks to a toothbrush, a stuffed toy in his crib and our trashcan, so I'm not all that special. :)
He has also recently expressed his opinion on favorite books and gets bouncy and starts patting pages when I read from the touch and feel farm book and from Each Peach Pear Plum. He can obey the command to 'touch the cow, do it now' consistently and it's fun to see him putting all his little bits of knowledge together.
I often feel someone's hands grabbing my toes as I sit at our counter stool and look down to see a smiley face looking up at me. He's quite a stealthy mover and will surprise me often. And of course, there is nothing so delightful right now as watching the washing machine tumble and we need to applaud it so as to encourage more washing. Apparently.
We're on the verge of crawling and more world opening up. Right now though, I'll enjoy this 9 month moment.

Chillaxin' with Mummy

Hello there!

Laundry inspection

Colin got baptized!

So this past Sunday, our little man was baptized. It was really lovely to share this with the church, but also to give him two sets of godparents.
In England, this is quite common, but for me, this was very new and it was a blessing to be introduced to it. It can of course, be a simple case of picking people who give good presents. Or it could be a situation where you are good friends and picked people for that reason. However, as Christians, there's more than that. It's a very real accountability to people who are taking a vested interest in the life your child will lead--Lord willing--in Christ. And for Mark and I, it is also making a familial connection in England. We asked our dear friends Daniel and Brooke Newman and Will and Katie Corrie to be the godparents for Colin. We are so blessed to have them as both couples have been very indispensable to us in so many ways, but most importantly in spiritual relationship. We are grateful for their faithfulness and their willingness to walk alongside us as we raise Colin. But we're also grateful for a further feeling  of family and rootedness here in England. So here's to many years rejoicing in God's faithfulness together! (And here's a few pics of the baptized boy as well :) )

All the godparents and the blur is the child that wouldn't sit still with Mummy :)

One shoe off and one shoe on...

Someone has officially discovered the drawers

Happy baptized boy. 

Someone came to find me and decided to go via coffee table

Tales of the Emergency room

So the other night, a dear friend of ours had to be taken to hospital in an ambulance. I'll pause right here to say that she's fine and it was nothing deeply traumatic. She's back to work, keeping calm and carrying on. :)
But I felt that this was worth blogging about as it was most definitely a night of drama. I shall skip to getting into the ambulance and draw a privacy curtain around the events that led us there. I've never ridden in an ambulance before so that was actually kind of fun. My friend's husband also accompanied us and a former UK soldier now paramedic was asking questions.
It didn't take long for him to realize I was American, largely as I was being more direct in answering the questions than my very British friends.
"As you can see, we're not racing to the hospital, so we're not overly concerned" he pointed out. Ah, that's why the siren wasn't going. My friend's husband and I exchanged the first of many ironic looks for the evening.
We arrived at the hospital and my friend was wheeled into the emergency receiving ward and the paramedics discussed the situation with the person on duty. Eventually it became clear that there was a shortage of wheelchairs and one doesn't use gurneys from the ambulance in the hospital. Ah. Could my friend walk down to the trauma ward? My friend who had had a few balance issues? Oh sure. She was behaving with typical Britishness--of course, it was fine, she'd be fine, no problem--while I was internally dropping my jaw on the floor. Sure, yeah we'll just walk down badly marked and under construction hallways with her. No problem my eyeball. But we did make it to the trauma waiting room so we could see a nurse. Who wasn't there yet. The trauma/triage nurse wasn't there. Of course.  We sank down upon the bright red and blue PLASTIC chairs in the tiny room. Overhead, a light flickered. I exchanged another ironic glance with the husband. This could be very very long. My friend expressed this thought as well. The junkie across from us, unabashedly listening in, agreed. "You should have gone to Frenchay" he told us. Thank you. He plucked at a few of his guitar strings and jiggled his foot. An old gentleman in a shabby jumper wandered over to show my friend's husband a picture on his camera. This time my friend and I shared the look as the husband nodded politely. Apparently the old man had done some renovations on a home and was proud of his work. Fair enough. His teeth were the  epitome of a British stereotype.
The trauma nurse arrived 30 minutes later, in no hurry. I wondered how the bloke in the wheelchair with a clearly badly sprained ankle felt. The nurse went into a tiny room. The waiting room pretended not to care too deeply, but you could feel everyone's spines getting more painful. Finally a name was called. Not ours. My friend decided she needed the ladies'. Naturally, after hobbling along several hallways to find it (bathrooms in hospitals are stealth bathrooms for security) we discovered it was out of order. "Of course" I said. "Use the men's". She gave me a look of horror. "Oh I don't know..." "I'll stand guard" I insisted "you do what you have to." She went in and I stood outside feeling like secret service. A man wandered by and looked curiously at me. I stared him down and he looked away. Victory. We went back to the waiting room. "It's always like this. Terrible." Commented the junkie. "Frenchay is much better. Treat you better. They treat you like **** here. Do you have a cigarette?" Sorry no we didn't. "Oh well." He wandered over to the people who had just recently come in supporting a man who looked as though he'd been in a club. He rounded the corner and we didn't see him for a while. Two security guards strolled by, thumbs in their vests. Another name was called. Not ours. An overweight girl came over to the vending machine for some poor choices.
The junkie returned. "I've been here before, they just don't treat you right." He let us know. His name was Josh. He wore a cap and carried the guitar around. He didn't open his mouth all the way when he spoke. He strolled down another hallway and disappeared. A moment later, the two security guards strolled by. The friend's husband and I shared a look. Apparently, there was a connection. FINALLY, our name. My friend and her husband went in. I avoided eye contact with the old gentleman as he was impatiently wandering now as well, and I didn't much fancy conversation. I picked up the citizenship booklet I was studying and turned to the health care section. Ha. I also read about women in Britain, the legal system and other largely useless information that most Brits likely don't know. Josh wandered back in and miraculously, his name was called. I looked up. Mistake. The older man took this as a signal and came over with his camera. Ah. However, it was not as I feared. He wasn't drunk, or not much, and was a rather pleasant individual. The look he gave Josh as he went in to see the doctor was not flattering. But he proceeded to tell me about what he did ("most jobs really") whose house this was ("Brunel lived there for a while") and quizzed me on my knowledge of  Bristol history and significance. Josh came out, fussing about needing medication. Shocker. Apparently he was fine. "Frenchay would treat you better. Finally called your friends eh? The **** are terrible here. Shoulda gone to Frenchay." The old man just stared at him coldly. I pasted a weak smile on my face and nodded. Josh ambled down another corridor. The old man continued to talk to me and then his name was called. The door shut and I picked up the booklet again as the security guards returned to stroll down the same hallway Josh had disappeared into. Mhm. The light flickered. After a small eternity, my friends returned. All was well. She would have a follow up at the local GP in a few days but we could go home now. Thus, we wandered out to find the lifts to take us up to a level from which to call a taxi. My friend and I seated ourselves on the small sofa as the husband called a taxi service. A confused looking Asian lady wandered by looking for the exit. Right behind her we explained. She thanked us and went that way. Josh came by. I wasn't surprised by now, though we were now two floors up. "Always throw me out. Frenchay..." His mumblings went down the hallway. But now here were the two security guards, right on his tail. They caught up with him and they all moved toward the exit. "It's time to leave sir" they explained. Josh took up his mantra "They always throw me out. Don't treat you right, it's terrible." After further argument and our little group wondering if we would witness some interesting drama, he was escorted out. "I was looking for the exit!" He explained vehemently, "I was going!" "Yes sir." replied the security guards with straight faces. "Right out here." "I was looking for the exit!" The sounds died away outside. My friend and I looked at each other. It was after midnight and our coach was the pumpkin of a taxi, and our driver was unshaven. But we made it home. I made up the sofa bed for our friends and then went to collapse into my own with Mark. But first I had to share with him the whole drama and we chuckled in the dark.

Birthday spread

I really need to get with it. I shall attempt better discipline with the blogging. But at last, I am getting up a shot of the birthday cake I made Mark. It was blue velvet cake with a vanilla bean Swiss buttercream frosting. Sadly, forgot to take a shot after we cut it, to show the blue, but I was very happy with the results and I LOVED the real vanilla bean in the frosting. It was pretty as well as delicious. So here tis:

I also asked Mark what he'd like for dinner. We were in the 'let's make it easy and economical' mode and I had an idea from Pinterest (of course) so I made him a Dagwood sandwich. And had loads of fun doing it. Here's the battleground laid out:

And here's the completed sandwich. I wanted to go another layer, but my husband didn't feel quite up to that. :)

Five kinds of meat, three kinds of cheese and veg in between homemade bread. Yep, we both had fun. :)

Good-bye Summer, it's been grand

Once again, it has been an age since I blogged. But we've certainly packed in the events for August!! Flying to the States, toodling around the Pacific Northwest, coming back, having Mark's mum come to stay for a bit, our anniversary, and Mark's birthday! Whew! And suddenly we look up and realize that Mark heads back to school next week and tomorrow is September.
Tempus fugit. I've always known that, but every year picks up speed. They say things slow down with age. Hmmm. At the rate we're going, I'll blink and Colin will be married. So, given our every increasing velocity around the sun, I think I'd better stop and take a moment to record a few reflections.
It was glorious to soak up the States. Our trip to Cannon Beach even obliged with sunshine and our little man seemed to enjoy sitting on the sand. He didn't enjoy the cold Pacific waves, curling up like a poked anemone when we tried to dip his toes in it. But we had a fantastic time with our family and when I say 'family' I mean cousins, aunts, uncles, grandmothers--the lot. We stayed in a house on the beach that is very special to our family and I was so pleased to share it with Mark and Colin.
We whizzed through Seattle on the way home and I enjoyed the brief time in another place dear to my heart. I never get tired of the Seattle skyline and there is still a part of me that feels I have come home, every time I view it. Who knows? If Mark and I live in the US for a while, it would be nice to be there. :) Toward the end of our visit, we went up to Spokane and my dear friend Lori arranged an open house so we could see as many of my friends and former colleagues as possible. What a joy that was! I went hoarse from talking to so many people. Isn't it great that we'll have eternity to catch up with dear family and friends? Because there's just not enough time in this life!! :)
A lot of folks have asked what our favorite part of the trip was. And I'm sorry if it's cliche, but hands down, it was the family time. I just ate up time with precious friends as well and was so blessed by that, but it was the time we spent with our family that recharged our batteries and made our trip so special. It was an opportunity to make Colin real to his little cousins and I didn't get tired of watching them interact with him or him watch them in fascination.
So now we're back and in the swing of England again. And we're good with that. Because the autumn is a-comin' and things are getting cooler and I desire to make butternut squash soup and redecorate the house for a season of festivities. So I'll do that. See you in September!

Seal of Approval

I am delighted to report we are in Moscow Idaho!! It was a rather rigorous plane ride, but the disguised blessing of that was Colin deciding to sleep through the night when we landed. :) And here we are enjoying wide blue skies and the warm enriching fellowship with our family.
Colin has been meeting all his uncles, aunts, cousins and grandparents and I am happy to report that they all find him cute. Or to sum it up in Amara's words "I YIKE him mom!!" She proceeded to say this numerous times to anyone who would listen and follow it with "He's super cute!" (Colin thinks Amara is super cute too. Or at least I think so. He was grabbing her hair.)
We are snapping many photos of cousins and shall post as we can. In the meantime, it's off to the beach today for Colin's first ocean experience. Yes, the irony is not lost. He lives on an island in the Atlantic but his first view of the ocean will be the Pacific coast of North America. :) We'll let you know what he thinks of sand between his toes....

It's How He Rolls

So our son is rolling everywhere lately. This is really entertaining so far, but we realize that the time is coming where we need to baby proof the house. He is capable of sitting, but is clearly impatient with it--would much rather skip to standing. So in the meantime, he prefers to roll to his chosen destinations. These are such tropical places as by the rocker, under the table, under the coffee table, or under the bar stools. And he is STEALTHY. The first we'll know about this (if we're not looking) will be a pair of feet sticking out from under the coffee table. :) Or a dissatisfied clunking because he can not roll through the bar stool. So I made sure to catalogue a few of these moves just for you all.

The smell of bacon

I know it's been too long. I keep telling myself to be more consistent in blogging. It's not that I don't have lots of thoughts. I just seem to run out of time to write them down properly. But I think I'm a little to fussy on that front--a little too pedantic. So, I'll try to keep the teacher quiet for a while and just WRITE.

Mark and I recently bought an electric griddle and I tried out its paces this morning with pancakes and bacon. And it worked beautifully and I love cooking such an American breakfast so conveniently. But as I laid 8 strips of bacon out neatly side by side and they began their lovely sizzle and pop, I was suddenly overwhelmed by memory. Grandma and Grandpa Garfield's home--bacon in the morning that Grandpa always cooked to perfection; not too chewy not too crisp. Yes we had eggs and muffins and cereal too, but you all know how dominant the smell of bacon is. I really don't know why it is that memory that came over me. I've had bacon often while in England and certainly in my lifetime. But this morning by the new griddle I was transported to Grandma and Grandpa's house 15 years ago. It was quite powerful. Standing in my English kitchen, I could FEEL  my parents and siblings at the round table behind me. I could see Grandpa cooking bacon as I was doing and I could see Grandma pulling warm muffins and buns out of the oven. And I was vaguely excited because today we are going to the beach and we'll meet up with the Shermans at Holstrums and....
I'm in England and it's Mark behind me with Colin and I'm married and I have a son. Memory is so powerful isn't it? I shared this memory with Mark and amusingly, though not as strongly, I also had a picture of the Dwarves cooking bacon in Prince Caspian and Sam making bacon and tomatoes with the Hobbits.
We all know that smell is a powerful tool for unlocking the past. I think I rank bacon in the top 5 for doing so. And I'm grateful. It was a nice way to start the morning. :)

Because we have a Creator

I'll start off with saying this is not intended to be a glorification of myself or my family. I was just reflecting on numerous things I'd seen my sisters post on facebook recently and I felt I needed to share my thoughts.
All four of us girls are very different from one another. I'm the oldest and have all the classic traits of one. :) I'm also very classic in my tastes and love elegant chic. My sister Kajsa is much more contemporary and can effortlessly fold new fashions into her repertoire. She's always had an excellent style eye and isn't afraid to try new things. (it took her years to make me try wearing purple. :))
Kathryn is the youngest and falls somewhere in between Kajsa and I in her fashion tastes. She's also the most enterprising, starting her own business and being quite successful because she is very good at knowing what other people need.
Naphtali is our sister-in-law, but is as close to us as if she was always part of the family. :) She has what I would call a very French eye for style and can somehow manage to channel Audrey Hepburn while still being modern.
But all four of us are very creative. We share a passion for creativity and it overlaps in a lot of areas and also shows our uniqueness in others. We love to bake and create beautiful and fun things for birthday parties, holidays and events. We all like to dress up for various functions, and we love to create a beautiful room.
We do this because we enjoy it and our personalities are suited to it. Be we do these things for a much deeper reason as well. We do it because we have a Creator. Because He delights in what is true, and what is good and what is beautiful.
Unfortunately, I think Christians have largely lost what that last one means in the past 150 years. We have slowly let the world erode beauty into an ugly soup of subjectivity and we have been told that only 'artists' can really help us define the beautiful. 
As Christian women though, Proverbs 31 calls us to find and develop what is beautiful-- in our appearance, in our family's appearance, in our homes and property. We can only determine beauty because our standard is the One who spoke a beautiful world into being.
This doesn't mean a home that is basically a museum or a spread in Pottery Barn. It is a home that is lived in. Messed up and cleaned up over and over. It means making a gorgeous cake that will be eaten. It means making a flower arrangement that will die. It means creating beautiful things that will not last. But that is the joy. We get to create new ones. Sure it takes work but that is the world in which we were made to live.
But I also wanted to mention one more woman in connection to this creative commonality we all have. My mom is very simple. She has simple taste in all things. Satin isn't for her. Loud colors don't appeal. Huge floral centerpieces are not her forte'. But for as long as I can remember, it was my mom who taught me to have beauty in my home. She didn't feel she could teach us which clothes to get or make up, but she did instill in us that we should be looking for beauty. And we did. I can't remember a Christmas she didn't work hard to make lovely in every way. I can't remember a time when she didn't decorate for the seasons and holidays. I can't think of a time when she didn't make our birthday cakes from scratch or sew our matching Easter dresses.
My dad is a hugely creative guy with a massive gift for painting so I'm not downplaying that. But it was my mom who gave all of us the example to follow in finding beauty in everything that we do, my dad included. :) And I know that we girls are all grateful because we all have a pattern that is set for life, founded in our Creator and nourished by our mom.
That's all. Just some thoughts as I look at all the lovely things my sisters do and as I putter around the kitchen myself.

Katie's Birthday Cake

So I have become a Pinterest devotee. I do understand those with reservations about it, but I have to say, I adore all the creativity and fabulous recipes on there! It has been so inspiring for me. And thus, the idea for my friend's birthday cake was born. I love the champagne cupcake recipe I found and used a double recipe to create the four layers. And I've ben DYING to do an ombre cake so I had fun with blue gel coloring as well. I have played with royal icing in ways that would never have occurred before and hunted down edible gel pens so I could place great literary quotes on the cake. I am a believer in the idea that a truly great cake should taste as good as it looks. So everything on there is edible. And I can't wait to perfect some of these ideas in the future!!

Happy to be awake!! :)

I love to come in and hear Colin waking up from a nap as he is (usually!) very happy. So I remembered to bring the camera and film him this time! :)

Do you remember....?

I was out today, getting in the ol' exercise in the rain (of COURSE in the rain. Nine times out of ten in the rain!! :) ) and my mind started rummaging around in the memory department as one's mind tends to do. And it delved into the toy box of my own childhood memories. It's done this a few times now, when I've been out walking with Colin, and I decided to write some of it down because hey, it makes me smile. So this is for my siblings, but the rest of you can read over their shoulders if you feel like it.

Do you remember those summer trips to the Carnegie Library? The way that the carpet smelled and the dark blue velvet chairs? We piled as many TinTin and Garfield comics as we could into baskets and then Mom would pick out books that we HAD to read before we could peruse the lighter side of lit? (And it was a good thing too... usually. :))
Or the old Ghormely pool where we all had swimming lessons, even though the shower rooms were ancient and rather dank and dark. When we were little enough that Pop could launch us off his knee and into the water? I still remember how fun it felt to fly through the air. Sometimes they would surprise us with a trip to the pool in those long, warm summer evenings. And we got Baskin Robbins afterwards. Remember how cold it felt to walk in there after being in the warm car?
Do you remember wearing our goggles to the pool so we could watch everybody underwater? Or sometimes, we had friends come along and then we could play Marco Polo. And the ancient sound system played Oldies while the teenage life guards tried to look really official, but usually looked bored.
Seth do you remember setting up the kiddie pool at the apartments? We had a tiny little postage stamp yard in the back, but it had room for the pool. And at the time, it seemed really big. Kajsa could sit in it too, but Mom had to be there watching since she was little.
How could we forget the giant tractor tires in Lena Whitmore Park? They were brilliant to play hide and seek in when you were five, because you could tuck yourself up into the top of it and balance on its rims and it looked completely empty. And the infamous wooden play structure was there where Seth split his chin open. I remember your face looking over Papa's shoulder as they took you to the emergency room and I went to the neighbors' house and had Mexican food.
Do you remember building snow slides with Deacon in the apartment parking lot? We thought they were HUGE and it took us a long time to complete, but it was really fun to play on later. Or we made tunnels and they connected to rooms. It seems like we had a lot more deep snow then doesn't it? Probably global warming. :) We always had to have a snowman with all the traditional features. He used to wear that ancient, long red scarf and have a carrot for his nose and charcoal for eyes and mouth.    Didn't he sometimes have Papa's wool blue hat as well? I remember we made a girl one once shortly after we moved to Concord and it wore that red and white apron of Mom's. How about  our old porch, before we had rails on it? We could walk straight off it into deep snow. Of  course once it had rails we could JUMP off them into deep snow and that was really cool.
Or the play fort that Papa made for us and it was great to go out and swing on after dinner on summer nights. I recall that it was a castle many times and Seth used a series of plastic medieval swords to defend it.
I forget if we actually ever owned a slip 'n slide, but I know it was in our back yard a few times and it was awesome even over our hard, bumpy ground.
We loved building blanket forts in the living room, using mom's wooden cloths pins and that old heavy Indian blanket on kitchen chairs--until Kajsa would knock some element of it over.
I remember Kajsa going through the phase of collecting those little fuzzy animal toys, what were they called? Whatever they were, they had furniture that was really useful when we made our block and book skyscrapers.
Remember playing with Seth's legos? We all had hours of fun with those, but it was much better to create our own castles rather than use the templates.
Or when we older three put on the Christmas story for Mom and Pop as well as Grandma and Grandpa Olsen? I was the donkey and director, Kajsa wore that blue satin Halloween costume to be Mary and Seth wore the Superman cape backwards to be Joseph. Well, he also had a towel on his head and a paper beard that I drew to complete the picture. And I believe we used Kajsa's toy baby 'Carwash' to complete the picture.
Do you remember when we started calling Kathryn 'Doots'? I don't. It just happened and it was perfect. Or how fun it was to have her be the passenger in our taxi when we tied the wagon to our bikes and rode around the neighborhood? Of course, she tipped out several times, but she was usually unharmed.
Or how about when the fields behind our house were still fields and we could make forts out of old wood? I think I was the only one who liked to go feed the horses, but I'm okay with that. I'd come back home and my hands were green from picking grass to give them.
Do you remember barbecues at Grandma and Grandpa Olsens'? When we sat at the metal picnic table on their back patio and the purple clematis gave us some shade. And Grandma's gorgeous snowball bush would bloom and we girls loved to take some home. Or when we played house in her basement? The green and orange carpets down there were awful but provided house division. And remember her blue cookie tin? I think it had monkeys on it. I must confess I would get disappointed when she'd open it and instead of biting into a chocolate chip cookie, I got oatmeal raisin. Kathryn was it you who liked that kind? :)
Remember story time at night? We girls were usually in the flannel nightgowns that Mom made us. And we could sit with our knees pulled up on the couch and tuck the hem under our feet to stay warm. And Pop would read from Narnia or Lord of the Rings or Patrick McManus.
I could go on, but I just had to write those memories down, even though my style is rough. Love you guys!

Baking Mad

I thought I should finally upload various picks of my cooking/baking exploits. I've had much fun with all of them, but my latest project is to create an ombre cake of my own. I've been doing research on recipes and ideas and today I did some experiment baking of a vanilla cake recipe and a Swiss Buttercream frosting. Wow.
First off, the cake is light and moist and uses oil rather than butter. I was skeptical but it really was fab. The Buttercream.... words are not enough. I have decided it is the new buttercream for me. It does include an egg white step, but honestly, other than that it wasn't too much harder or more time consuming than regular buttercream. And it gets so much whiter and tastier!! (The butter quotient is huge, but who cares? The taste is worth it!) I'm not going to show pics because the red food coloring I used was rubbish and turned the cake grey (!!) not red!! (Never again Asda...) Lesson learned. Stick to expensive gel colors. However, it did achieve the two tone look despite being grey and it is yummy!! So, I'm getting excited to attempt my real effort soon. First though, I aim to make a tiramisu this week as we are having friends for dinner and I'm also making lasagna. I haven't made tiramisu for years and am really stoked to do so!!
But here's some of my latest baking exploits:

Coconut cake from Hummingbird. Next time I'm soaking it with coconut rum. :)

chocolate sugar cookies with royal icing. I was playing with an idea I found on Pinterest, and realized I need gel color to do it right. But it sort of worked. :) And I like the royal icing, though buttercream is better.

This looked so pretty in the pot. Just made it up. Pork loin, apples, cranberries, vinegar, sage and chicken broth simmered for 5 hours in the slow cooker. SOOO good!

chocolate cupcakes with rum frosting and playing with the Easter theme. I liked the yellow and brown contrast too.

Brown eggs that I dyed and Leslie Wilson's cinnamon rolls for our Easter brunch

Colin's new talent

So Colin is getting chattier and chattier. He loves to imitate our mouths or raise his eyebrows to express himself. It really does seem as though he thinks he's talking to us sometimes. We love the noises he makes. His latest ability is making the raspberry noise with his mouth. He's very proud of this accomplishment and likes to do it when he's particularly happy. I'll often get that sound when I come in to wake him in the morning. He'll look right at me, smile really big and spit. :) He's also close to rolling over, but I have yet to catch that on film as the camera's presence is VERY distracting when we bring it out. :)

When ducks and octopus meet...

Colin continues to get more dexterous all the time. Currently he has been attempting to introduce the newcomer duck to the octopus on his play gym. Things are a little rocky in the relationship, but I have hope that they will learn to get along. Colin is more impatient for this to work but was giving it a good shot today. He is also becoming more camera savvy as you will see, and is figuring out where to look to get his best angles. Maybe I should look into newscasting...? Anyway, love this boy!

Laughing with Mummy

So I finally remembered to have the camera nearby when Colin was in his happy talky mood. (Which is often to be fair.) I love this boy a lot! :)

Fearful and Wonderful

One of the things about having kids? Boy do things in the media regarding children really hit you between the eyes. Of course there are all the appeals to give £2 to this cause in Africa and £3 pounds to the other cause in India and so on. And yes, I am sympathetic but I can't help but see the massive hypocrisy in such appeals. And the UK and the US are the biggest hypocrites of them all. Why do the lives of those children matter so much more to our cultures than our own children? Why do their big eyes and swollen tummies affect us? Why, when they're fed well and they smile at us from the television in gratitude, do we feel a surge of self righteous satisfaction? We did some good after all and saved them from starving.
But why? If they had been in the womb at the time of the appeal, we wouldn't have bothered sending help. Likely our governments would instead continue educating Africa, and India and numerous other cultures around the world about the benefits of aborting these children in the first place. Then they wouldn't starve and other people could have food so it's a win/win right?
I watched a documentary today about saving lemurs in Madagascar. I'm all for conservation, don't get me wrong. But I was again struck by our hypocrisy. I listened as this scientist, who has dedicated his life to this research, strove to protect a very endangered band of lemurs, and in particular he wanted to protect a mother and her unborn child. He got rather emotional about it and was so pleased that this mum was pregnant since it meant hope for the species. And I thought to myself, 'why do we go to great lengths to save that baby?' That guy was potentially risking his life in an unstable part of Africa. Why is that lauded and praised, but when Christians bring up the murder of unborn human children in an effort to protect them, we are ridiculed and accused of oppressing women? Why do other CHRISTIANS get embarrassed for us and squirm if we talk about this hideous wrong too openly? If there is a time for righteous anger, this is the time.
Living here in the UK, I am not only deeply grieved, I will admit I am rather furious with Christians who have long ago given up the fight against abortion. It is not an issue in politics at all. No one running for office here, would worry about using it as a platform. The church doesn't teach on it. Or, if various lone vicars do, they are slapped with lawsuits, or, at the very least, with the cold disapproval of their very virtuous middle class congregations. One shouldn't discuss such unpleasant topics after all. Another cup of tea please. 
At least it is still an issue in the public forum in the US. But we are just as guilty if not more so, of blood. Please don't think I hold our country as more righteous than the UK. And if nothing changes, Christians in our country will become just as lethargic about abortion as they are here.
I have a son. He has ten small toes. He has ten fingers that wrap around one of mine or Mark's. He's had those since he was 9 weeks old in the womb. He is learning to laugh now and he smiles such a big smile that it fills half his face. He gives me that smile when I come into his room in the morning and when I get him up from naps. He cuddles with us and sleeps on Mark's chest. His eyelashes are long and stand out on his cheeks when his eyes are closed. He kicks with his feet in the bath so that he can smile at the splash. He is learning something every day. I love watching him. And he loves watching me. And I think to myself, 'how, HOW can we live with ourselves, knowing that millions and millions of children never got to kick their bath water?' They will never wrap their hands around someone's finger. They can't smile at faces. They had all the ability to do so by 20 weeks in the womb. But they were not given that opportunity. They were murdered before any of us could witness it.
I could weep thinking about this. I have to remember that God is a Father. That He has those babies with Himself. But He will also judge us, us Christians, for standing by as the helpless were killed. I pray that future generations will study this as the greatest and most awful genocide the world has ever known. I pray that my son's generation will witness the end to this. One way or another it will end. But God is not mocked and He will deal with this sin. And the church will be the first to have to answer Him for it.
"I will give thanks to you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are your works and my soul knows it very well." Psalm139:14

Coordination challenges

Somebody's growing. He's 2 feet long according to the doctor and 12.5 pounds!! But he's been showing us growth in other ways too. He talks to us and his animals, he loves to feel things with his hands, he is trying to take the bottle from me already and boy does he love kicking his legs. I took this video of him playing on his gym. And while I write this, he's lying beside me patting my arm. Could I love that more? :)

It's spring and Easter is coming...

Just a few things that I've done as warmer weather approaches and daffodils bloom.