Amber Dusick

sandbox afternoons

these years are short

our sandbox afternoons

as shadows stretch

I shade my eyes

to watch my two

one curled, one straight

sand sifting through 

their tiny fingers

like time

 

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I wrote this over the weekend in a journal while watching them play together.  My eldest came over and asked me what I was writing so I read it to him.  He asked if he could write a poem.  I told him he could tell it to me and I'd write it down for him.  

 

This was his poem:

 

once there was a little boy named Blue

and his name was Do

and there was a little boy who didn't say Do

and his name was Glue

and then they grew

 

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I love the ending line of his and can't help but wonder if it is because he understood the essence of mine.  Somehow, they belong together.  

 

newest food obsession

Coconut Manna spread on homemade whole grain bread, still warm.  I've been baking bread weekly and eating this combo probably more than I should.  I'm completely addicted to this melt in your mouth, sweet coconut treat.  We add it to smoothies too.  

(That tea towel peeking out is one I gocco'd a few years back.  I regret selling my Gocco.  Note to self: never, ever let go of artsy crafty stuff, you will want to use it again.)

What treat or new food are you enjoying lately? 

a day of yes

This photo is a mirror of myself.  Of me saying, "No" all day long.  I remember reading some statistic long before I had kids that parents say "no" to their kids like a billion times a day.  (actually it was a few hundred but I can't find the study...anyone?)  At that time I was determined not to be one of those negative parents.  I'd always say YES and parenting would be all rainbows and butterflies.  And then I had kids.

Inspired by some of Joyce Fetteroll's thoughts on yes I declared (to myself) that yesterday was the "Day of Yes" and that I would say yes or some form of it rather than be lazy and make excuses that benefited only me.  I was testing it out.  Not even quite sure I could pull it off for one day quite honestly.  With a one year old and a four year old I was sure I'd have to sprinkle some "no" around.

Of course if my one year old was climbing up on a table and about to jump off onto a bed of spikes I wouldn't say "yes" like an idiot.  That is where people get stuck on this I think.  Take it to extremes.  It isn't really like that.  You still have to provide safety and guidance but you can do so by redirecting and explaining clearly that something isn't safe.  Or reserve "no" for occasions like those so it still holds weight.  

So I tried it out.  I said yes to painting outside.  Yes to playing in the sandbox.  Yes to pouring water into the sandbox to make a beach.  Yes to being silly.  Yes to dress up.  Yes to a lollipop.  Yes to pretend play.  Yes to digging through the closet to find a new game.  Yes to going outside to see if we could find the moon.  

At first it was exhausting.  And then it was fun.  And revealing.

At one point my eldest was painting at the table and my youngest was having a snack in his high chair.  I was sweeping.  My eldest said, "Mama?  You're the best Mama."  

He hasn't ever said that to me.  And at that moment I actually felt like it was true.

The thing is, none of the things I said "yes" to are that big of a deal.  I don't have a problem with any of it, it wasn't like he asked me to take him to a toy store to buy all new toys or something ridiculous.  However, on other days I may have made excuses.  I'd say "no" to pouring water in the sandbox when the real reason was because I had just swept the floors and I didn't want him dragging sand inside.  Sure, I could just brush him off before going in or ask him to take off his clothes before going in or just do a quick sweep up after there is sand on the floor.  Or let there be sand on the floor for a few days.  Who cares?  When did I become so lazy that it causes me to say "no" and inhibit my children from having fun?

So what would I have done if he asked for something that I couldn't make happen?  Well, he did ask if we could go to Las Vegas.  We went a year ago and he has been wanting to go back ever since.  I replied that "Yeah, wouldn't that be fun?  I wish we could too.  What would you want to do there this time?"  This lead to a whole conversation about Skee-Ball and other games and about swimming in pools and spicy Thai food.  Instead of just shutting him down by saying, "No, we can't go to Vegas today" my response engaged him.  We chatted, we connected.  What world of difference having to think around the word "no" makes.        

So I dare you to have a Day of Yes of your own and see where it leads you.  

For me, I'm going to say "yes" more often.  

 

 

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What about you?  Do you ever catch yourself saying "no" too often?  Or do you make a point of saying "yes" to your kids?    

for the love of tunics

I've been into a tunic thing this winter (when I bother to actually, you know, get dressed) and this vintage one is my favorite now.  It all started when I sewed this one.       

I love that folksy print and the covered buttons.  

You can see my standard lazy long hairstyle here in that first pic, just tied in a knot while still wet.  I don't even bother with pony tail holders lately.  Been getting those urges to cut it, this was the last time it was cut!  I have two hairstyles: long and cut at an angled bob.  This has been going on for 17 years.  Yawn.  Not sure what I'll do if anything.  Suggestions welcome.  

 

on being thoughtful at estate sales

 

 

This Sunday there was an estate sale down the street and I stopped in.  I have a love/hate relationship with estate sales.  I love them because I'm a naturally curious person and I love to wander in a house room by room and look at their stuff and imagine how they lived.  I hate them because it is sad to wander in a house room by room and look at their stuff and how they lived.  Lived being the operative word here.  Estate sales always mean someone died.  They mean that someone died and nobody wants their stuff and that I'm getting the very last glimpse of their home the way it was.  The way they carefully decorated it.  I think about where the items came from and how the stories behind them are now lost.  Now they are just things again.  I guess they always were. 

Still, I always wander carefully and usually don't touch much.  Other people are madly digging through the cupboards, carelessly tossing stuff aside, making a chaotic mess and bargaining loudly.  They are like rabid hyenas.  I just can't do it that way.  It is almost as if I wander through waiting for an object to tell me "it is okay for you to take me home" or something.  I have to really love something, it has to really be meant for me.  I need a sign.

At this particular sale the old man was there, sitting in a chair watching people dig through his home.  His wife died and he was moving to a home.  There were professional estate sale staff running the show and handling questions, he was merely watching.

I had a five dollar bill and that was all.  Not that I expected to find anything for that amount, estate sales in Los Angeles are not known for being cheap and I almost never find anything at them anyway so I didn't come prepared.  However, on the stove amidst all kinds of other junk was this happy yellow and aqua earthenware dish.  Well worn, well loved.  And it was five bucks.

Not only was it the exact amount I had...but look how it matches the color of our house and the bench on our front porch!  Meant to be, I think.  It was also the cheapest thing at the sale.  The estate pricers must have thought it was a chippy piece of junk.  Everything else in the house was pretty pristine and mostly Victorian in style so I can't help but thing there must be some reason they kept this old dish all those years.  Only I don't know the reason.  Maybe it made her just as happy to look at it as it now makes me.  We'll go with that.  

 

 

Do you go to in house estate sales?  Are you sentimental at them like me?     

 

 

 

a new year, a new blog (a homeschooling blog!)

So I started a new blog this week, called Homeschooling Voyage.  Not because I have loads of sage advice to offer on the topic, quite the contrary.  I started it to create a space where I could explore our journey with it, failures and mistakes and all.  I have no idea where this voyage will take us or even how long it will take us.  But it is a voyage nonetheless and I wanted room to focus on it away from this blog, which is has no point or focus and I'd like to keep it that way.  So if you are interested in homeschooling stuff at all, come hang out with me...otherwise I'll still be rambling on randomly like usual over here.

Thanks to the Progressive Pioneer for sharing my ancient (wow 2007!) sweater mouse tutorial today.  It always amuses me when things get blogged years after I've forgotten about them completely.  However, that mouse puppet is still in serious rotation at our house.  He looks a little more worn around the edges but he is still as charming as ever.    

Have a lovely weekend!   

 

Candy Cane Ice Cream

The last of our homemade candy canes (I'll post about that eventually) were used up in another batch of candy cane ice cream which is also now eaten.  The holidays are officially over, as no remnant (edible or otherwise) is left in our house.  We repurposed the tree and tucked everything else away for next year.  

This candy cane ice cream recipe was made in my new ice cream maker my mom sent me for Christmas.  It is actually just an attachment for my mixer which is perfect since I don't have to store a whole separate appliance, just the small drum that lives in the freezer.  Ice cream with a side of hot cocoa is my current favorite food combo.  

And I have to thank Amber Strocel and her many posts on homemade ice cream for inspiring me to give it another go.  I had an ice cream maker a few years ago and ditched it in a major de-cluttering binge.  I'm glad I picked it up again, though this time with a more simple set up.  Heck, I even collect ice cream scoops and make art about ice cream trucks.  I am a serious ice cream addict so not making my own was kind of a missing piece.  

 

Scroll Saw Geekiness

To make a long story short, we toured this 1885 home and carriage house recently at the Los Angeles Arboretum.  I'll spare you the part where I drooled over the red and white and aqua details:

And the part where I realized that where they kept the horses is much more beautiful than my dining room:

Because in the carriage house I spotted this:

Oh, be still my heart!  A pedal operated scroll saw from 1876.  For the confused, I use a scroll saw to make my wooden toys.  Oh how I wish I could see the things that were made with it.  And I daydream about trying it out.  Think how even more eco-friendly my toys would be if I cut them this way?  Nah.        

I love looking at old houses.  I think I could look at old houses for a living if such a thing existed.  No, I don't want to photograph them or write about them or do any actual work.  I just want to wander through them and daydream.  Is that a job?   

Seeking Snow in Sunny Southern California

My four year old has been infatuated with the idea of snow since we started reading wintery books in early December.  "Will it snow on Solstice?"  Not where we live.  "Will it snow on Christmas?"  Nope.  "Will it snow on New Year's Eve, Mama?"  Uh, no dear.  He had a long list of what he'd like to do:  build a snowman, make snow angels, snowball fight and of course taste the snow.  All the things I spent many a Wisconsin and Minnesota winter doing as a child.    

Fortunately, we realized yet another bonus of living where we do.  Mountains.  Mountains = snow.  So this weekend we left our warm and sunny yard and we drove up, up, up for just one hour and poof, we were in a winter wonderland! 

My southern California boys stepped out of the car pondering, "What IS this stuff?"

The first thing they learned was that snow is cold.  Like, painfully cold if you hold it in your hands too long - cold.  That really put a damper on much snowman building or snowball throwing.  No, we didn't bring gloves.  We don't own gloves.  What on earth would we own gloves for?  It is 70 degrees outside as I type this post.  In January.  Enough said.    

Still, a wee little snowman was built with an acorn cap for hat.  And snow was tasted.  And Mama was pelted with a few snowballs (though mostly by Papa) and on the way back through the trees to the car we found the biggest acorn treasure ever which really, made the whole trip worthwhile in the eyes of a certain four year old with painfully cold hands.

And next time we're bringing gloves.  And maybe hot cocoa too.

On Being Wasteful

Did somebody say zero waste about wrapping gifts for the holidays?  

This was this year.

Gulp.  It made me a little nauseated honestly.  Yes, much of it was reused already, nearly all could be recycled and this trash involved gifts to and from our extended family, for a total of 11 people but still.  Some people go a whole year without accumulating this much waste and we knocked it out in a matter of hours.  Seeing it in my pantry made me feel ashamed, like a stereotypical wasteful American...

And then!  In a quiet moment after the holiday whirlwind I sat down and flipped through the most recent issue of Sunset Magazine that our realtor sends us.  And turned to this article on the zero waste home family.  While my pantry looked still like this.  Isn't that hilarious?  Oy.  A clear message to say the least

Truth is, the rest of the year we do pretty well.  Really well actually.  With one exception.  Food.  Gosh, we waste so much food.  Yes we compost our veggie scraps and all that good stuff, I'm talking about the mystery leftovers that rot in the back of the fridge only to be pulled out and greeted with a confused, "What IS this?"  Followed by "Oh yeah, that was really good...I meant to eat that" as I toss it in the trash. 

When we were at our worst, someone spray painted the word "FOOD" on our trash bin that gets picked up by the city.  I'm pretty sure it was a less artful and less romantic modern hobo code that homeless people were using to mark our bins so that they remembered that ours were often full of food.  I won't go into the homeless topic too much more other than to remind you that I live in Los Angeles and it is a sadness we live with like in any large city.  While I haven't seen people go through our bins since we moved to our new house up here in the hills we "knew" some of the ones when we lived in the city...my husband gave the homeless guys all of our Thanksgiving leftovers one year.  As in, before they went bad in our fridge.  Sigh.

Anyway, I've been doing a weekly menu plan for over a year now and it has helped a lot but I still think we could do better.  I just threw out some moldy homemade mac & cheese this morning.  And it was good!  I meant to eat that!  Yeah, we're working on it.  

What do you waste the most of?