Forever and Ever and Ever.

Dave and I enjoyed a quick getaway to Richmond Virginia this past weekend prompted by a family wedding. It's been a beacon of escape etched onto the busy spring calendar for months now. A booked hotel, dinner reservations made at a delicious farm-to-table restaurant, and much unscheduled but highly anticipated merriment.

Cue the snag. 

Days ahead of the weekend, our sitter had an unexpected death in the family. After much initial panic, and many a back-up plans considered, the Grand Dubs swooped in for the rescue. FABULOUS! Weekend is instantly back on, and the Craunlets are over-the-moon excited about prospects of a weekend all alone with the Grand Dubs. No parents to rain on the fun parade!

Dave and I drove off into summer on Friday morning, and wrung more fun out of those few days than I dreamt possible. The wedding on Saturday was lovely and perfect. Outside under a canopy of trees, the sweetest vows were exchanged listing promises of faithfulness and loyal love. But what completely undid me was how the bride ended ended hers with a forever and ever and ever.

The seemingly sing-song lightness of the words, and yet their eternal heaviness. So little is forever. Relationships are worth that, the promise of working at love forever and ever and ever.

And the husband and I remembered back to our wedding day, our exchanged vows, and our forever that now lies both behind and yet still stretched out ahead.

Mr. Prolific.

It's been a big year for Nathaniel. I feel like I could say that, and simultaneously hear the sound of the heads of anyone that has ever sent a child to Kindergarten collectively nodding in agreement with me.

That said, within the last handful of weeks, Kindergarten seems to have accelerated a ton, like it's getting ready for 1st grade, TOMORROW. It's been leaving my head absolutely spinning around the dining room table as I review daily schoolwork and assist with homework, administering practice spelling tests, and timing rocket math equation races.

But what's super crazy to me, is how Nathaniel effortlessly meets the challenge, and then in his spare time, carves out other meaty tasks for himself to knock out.

Last weekend, he took a stab at writing his first song which he titled: O Little old Lady. He's got two full pages of lyrics, copiously hand-written and taped together like a book, for fast and easy turning during practice and performance. The best part is that his "little old lady" is a 4-year old girl friend Poppy. It's his first ballad, a sweet little love song to make up for forgetting to invite her to some imaginary party.

The kid is in constant create-mode, and always tinkering with inventions––like his recent printer that he constructed out of a cardboard box, rubber bands, tape + colored pencils. He made this several weeks ago, and takes orders for "what to print", then he works away [hands inside the printer] to satisfy his customer.

His first "print" was Superman of course, for himself, to test out his invention.

Mr Prolific, is only six after all. Wildly independent and driven, passionate and completely committed to creating, and certainly every bit six year old boy.

To Market, To Market.

We are out of the Winter, friends, and we have survived [!!!] still eating primarily locally-grown food! We are thrilled that our Farmers Market is back outdoors, and every week the number of stands has grown significantly!

The first week the market moved outside, we watched a sheep shearing.  Eyes wide, and bundled up fiercely, we were stoked about the heralding of Spring and the increasing variety that it will slowly present us. So far, we have already enjoyed many a crisp salad greens, and a few bunches of ramps. We've also begun to splurge on the local charms we have fallen in love with, building up our pantry, with things like Hickory Elixir [think a smokier maple syrup] and maple cream, honey varieties, some fabulous candied citrus peels, and a handful of terrifically interesting jams.

On the freezer-full-of-cow cow front [remember here, and see it here], we are very nearly through all of the large cuts, as we worked our way through roasts, recently the oxtails [YUM!] and are preparing the London Broil today. Aside from a few odds-and-ends, we are left with about two dozen pounds of ground beef. Thank goodness it is grilling season [burgers anyone?] but MAN –– getting through the ground beef has been a big challenge for us.

Beef Shanks before cooking, we consumed them too quickly for a "done" shot...

For the beef shanks, we followed this recipe near-exactly, using our own stock instead of the recommended brand, and we traded olive oil for the coconut. It was a cold and rainy day of early Spring, and this was a perfect match to the weather, presenting a hearty and warming main dish that was both deliciously flavored and unbelievably tender.

I really thought we might become burdened by all the meat at the onset of this adventure, but I have been again and again overwhelmed more by the unceasing variety of all the cuts. 

And now, with Spring certainly upon us, the fresh produce variety picks up again as well! We have also just added a weekly fruit CSA to the mix this year through one of our favorite fruit farmers, and we look forward to that starting at the first of June. This year, through the learning curve of last, I want to be better at putting down reserves for winter––saving even a few special treats from the season's of abundance, will prove a great indulgence for the year ahead!

The Craunlets. These Two Great Friends.

Sometimes I just cannot get over how sweet these two kids are. 

Siblings, and such good friends. Today we trekked down to Akron to take in a fantastic exhibit featuring the work of Ezra Jack Keats at the Art Museum. Never before have I viewed the original art that he created for the illustrations of his books. [Snowy Day, among our household favorites].

How great is this full on set of an Ezra Jack Keats illustration? The stoop was stacked with his books for a reading area.

It was part magical, part inspiring, and just plain amazing to see the Craunlets take it all in together. They were undone after the exhibit, finding his real art all throughout all the pages of the books on display, and the handful we purchased in the gift shop.

Crazy cool. The exhibit. And these two good friends.

Glittery Pencils, Smart Coookies, and a Week of Testing.

It was OAA testing week here, and the Little Miss has been on constant test-talk and preparation for weeks, and weeks, and weeks now. In anticipation, and in part to abate the building stress, we crafted up some glittery pencils on Sunday evening to share with her classmates on Monday morning. Lucky testing pencils.

A quick coat of white glue around the metal band, a dredging through chunky gold glitter, and then voila! As the pencils dried, I whipped up some crisp and clean test encouragement flags in photoshop, and then Isabella quickly went to work with her curlicue and hearts signature as a finishing touch.

A few pieces of double-tack tape hold the flags together and around the pencils, and they became the sweetest little pennants. Sharpened and ready to go.

So the week starts with glittery gold, and moves quickly to decadently thick and softly sweet sugar cookies to commemorate the last day of testing. On a Wednesday afternoon whim, I am rolling out, cutting, baking and icing up the exact number of cookies for her classmates and teacher. 

As they rested on the wire rack, and the frosting got a chance to set, we whipped up some Smart Cookie tags to close up the individual cellophane bags. 

If nothing else, it was a superb test-talk distracter at home. I've never seen Isabella so calm, and so constant in a smile. She is a project-oriented worker, and having something to do for her class all week was just the perfect stress reliever. Hmmm, wonder where she gets that from??!

And as quickly as they were upon us, now they are behind us. Testing Week; CHECK.

Playing Outside.

We seized some unusually warm temperatures the other day, and decided to grill dinner and play outside while our fresh spring chicken cooked away over indirect coals. The Craunlets insisted that we move their plastic Adirondack lawn chairs and tables outside for the season.

Dave and I sipped on beers as we tended the grill and other aspects of dinner, and the Craunlets played. After several minutes of an involved set-up process, I looked over at the two of them and was undone with laughter. Their side tables converted to little desks, and the Craunlets merrily working away like two colleagues sitting in invisible office cubicles.

I feel like we do school around the clock here. These two, pouring over their Brain Quest decks for their choice activity of outside play.

Just a couple feet beyond these pictures, sits a giant plastic tub containing outdoor toys, including slingshots, balls of every variety, sidewalk chalk and bubbles. But the Craunlets–day one of the season of outdoor play–opt to move school outdoors. For fun, we work on our math facts, and hone up on our reading comprehension.  We count by twos way up into the hundreds until our voices go hoarse, and discuss proper word choice in our conversations using words like specific, awkward, and sensible. 

These two keep me always thinking, and constantly laughing. There's such an intensity and hunger for learning within them, and a keen curiosity to make sense of their world.

Capturing the Crazy that is called After School.

It's a two hour window. I pick up the Craunlets from school, and it's a flurry of crazy before both are even buckled into their seats and we are pulling out of the parking lot. The banter back and forth for airspace to recap every moment of their days and impressions for me crowds any possible lingering thought from my day. Immediately through the door at home, and it's sorted piles of graded papers, super important notes and permission slips, and several forms of homework, to include math, reading, writing and often computer time. And everyone is so unbelievably thirsty and absolutely famished.

For all of our sanity, I've started blocking this time off of my daily calendar.

It's also this window of time where life is completely real and fresh. It's a vulnerable dishing of the day, and if I am careful to not over-question the Craunlets, I learn firsthand about first crushes, new friendships, conversations between friends and peers, about their academic successes as well as their struggles and disappointments. They lay open all of their day's situations and experiences for camaraderie, interpretation and often advice. They are open. Wide open. But as the homework begins, and their bellies become satiated, my insight becomes less appreciated, and their answers to any inquiries that still remain become much abbreviated and cloaked. 

It's a time of careful orchestration, requiring my fullest concentration and attention. Each of you, in this moment, are my most important person, and most urgent thing to do.

And before I know it, we are checking over completed homework, and changed into our play clothes, and fast-approaching dinner time. The light that comes in the front windows during this last hour of our afternoon is amazing. We often sit and play in the two small chairs in my studio washed in this light, and still discussing bits of our unfinished stories from the day. 

Lately, we have brought the camera with us. The images in this post were captured by Nathaniel. He's finally getting the hang of focusing, looking through the viewfinder with more patience, and holding that dang heavy camera still. I wring out the last few moments of their shift towards seriousness  with as much silliness as I can muster. That it still surprises them, and bends their lips almost unwillingly into smiles is my greatest daily joy.