welcome to the land of the apes
the apes own the land. The land is ruled by the apes
6.21.2019
7.26.2018
The day started without me this morning, when I was awakened to find three toddlers on my bed, only two of whom were mine.
From that moment on, I have been organzing children nonstop, directing them outside, then inside, separating them and gathering them up.
Now, as the sky flames out, I am finally able to gather and organize my own thoughts, pausing now and again to call the kids back to our own space, ask them to reunite the water bottles with their lids for the umpteenth time. The flow of activity is constant, and they still need a good bit of direction, but it's less consuming in the cool of the evening.
I use the term "cool" in the loosest sense possible--it is still 100 degrees in the remaining scraps of sunlight, but it is almost bearable in the shade, which is more than I could say an hour ago. RV life has been so good for us, but our travel trailer heats up terribly in the summer. Days like this leave me longing for adobe.
Some days we take refuge by the river, where the water flows cool, and cottonwoods and willows filter the sun. The threat of flooding keeps us away many afternoons, but when we return, there will be even more gloriously squishy clay, The kids will shape it, sculpt it, and track it all over the trailer. These days they request a pottery wheel as often as they ask for a(nother) dog. I dream of finding a bit of earth with mud just like this. We will shape it into walls to absorb and soften the brutal desert heat, contain and organize this profusion of life. For now, it is enough to structure and restructure the space that we do have. The stuff of chaos is also the stuff of order, and the work of life is simply to arrange the elements, begining with itself.
From that moment on, I have been organzing children nonstop, directing them outside, then inside, separating them and gathering them up.
Now, as the sky flames out, I am finally able to gather and organize my own thoughts, pausing now and again to call the kids back to our own space, ask them to reunite the water bottles with their lids for the umpteenth time. The flow of activity is constant, and they still need a good bit of direction, but it's less consuming in the cool of the evening.
I use the term "cool" in the loosest sense possible--it is still 100 degrees in the remaining scraps of sunlight, but it is almost bearable in the shade, which is more than I could say an hour ago. RV life has been so good for us, but our travel trailer heats up terribly in the summer. Days like this leave me longing for adobe.
Some days we take refuge by the river, where the water flows cool, and cottonwoods and willows filter the sun. The threat of flooding keeps us away many afternoons, but when we return, there will be even more gloriously squishy clay, The kids will shape it, sculpt it, and track it all over the trailer. These days they request a pottery wheel as often as they ask for a(nother) dog. I dream of finding a bit of earth with mud just like this. We will shape it into walls to absorb and soften the brutal desert heat, contain and organize this profusion of life. For now, it is enough to structure and restructure the space that we do have. The stuff of chaos is also the stuff of order, and the work of life is simply to arrange the elements, begining with itself.
5.14.2018
Priorities
"Mom, when are you going to write more Wuggy Chronicles?"
"I don't know. Has anything interesting happened recently?"
He sighed dejectedly. "I guess not." Then, stroking his two-day-old sister's downy head, he suddenly remembered.
"Wait! There was that beautiful pool with the giant tadpoles that we found the other day!"
Yes. There was that.
"I don't know. Has anything interesting happened recently?"
He sighed dejectedly. "I guess not." Then, stroking his two-day-old sister's downy head, he suddenly remembered.
"Wait! There was that beautiful pool with the giant tadpoles that we found the other day!"
Yes. There was that.
(I don't have any pictures of the tadpoles, so you'll have to be content with a picture of our little Sibyl.)
3.05.2018
It's been raining. Lots.
In theory, I'm grateful for water. In practice, I wish we could get it in smaller doses. There's mud everywhere, and laundry has been a nightmare with no way to dry it.
But the last few days have been gorgeous. Blue skies, gentle breezes, even a bald eagle fishing in the flood waters. We're mostly caught up on laundry, and today was a perfect day to catch up on some overdue birthday celebrations.
RV cake-baking is no joke, when everyone is eager to help, including the dog, and I'm juggling a dozen other things simultaneously, and what was I doing anyway? I may or may not have thrown a tantrum.
The cake was still in the oven when Grandma and Grandpa arrived, but we had a lovely time enjoying the cake and ice cream that they brought, and after they had to leave, one of the big boys took Peanut Butter for a nice long walk while we decorated the other cake.
By the time the cake was frosted and thoroughly covered in m&ms, boy and the dog were nowhere to be seen, and by the time Andrew found them (at the other end of the park) it was time that he had to leave for work.
So the cake is in the fridge, ready and waiting for the next moment we can all be together in the sunshine. When a family reaches a certain size, birthday celebrations become a teensy bit like laundry--you're never actually entirely caught up.
But we're less behind on both counts, and it feels very good. Our rambling dog-walker has redeemed himself by supplying us all with lots of fresh-squeezed orange juice. The kids are watching Andy Griffith and Gomer Pyle, giving me a much-needed respite. It's not exactly quiet, and I'm no more likely to fully catch up on my thoughts than on laundry or celebrations or emails... but it's good.
In theory, I'm grateful for water. In practice, I wish we could get it in smaller doses. There's mud everywhere, and laundry has been a nightmare with no way to dry it.
But the last few days have been gorgeous. Blue skies, gentle breezes, even a bald eagle fishing in the flood waters. We're mostly caught up on laundry, and today was a perfect day to catch up on some overdue birthday celebrations.
RV cake-baking is no joke, when everyone is eager to help, including the dog, and I'm juggling a dozen other things simultaneously, and what was I doing anyway? I may or may not have thrown a tantrum.
The cake was still in the oven when Grandma and Grandpa arrived, but we had a lovely time enjoying the cake and ice cream that they brought, and after they had to leave, one of the big boys took Peanut Butter for a nice long walk while we decorated the other cake.
By the time the cake was frosted and thoroughly covered in m&ms, boy and the dog were nowhere to be seen, and by the time Andrew found them (at the other end of the park) it was time that he had to leave for work.
So the cake is in the fridge, ready and waiting for the next moment we can all be together in the sunshine. When a family reaches a certain size, birthday celebrations become a teensy bit like laundry--you're never actually entirely caught up.
But we're less behind on both counts, and it feels very good. Our rambling dog-walker has redeemed himself by supplying us all with lots of fresh-squeezed orange juice. The kids are watching Andy Griffith and Gomer Pyle, giving me a much-needed respite. It's not exactly quiet, and I'm no more likely to fully catch up on my thoughts than on laundry or celebrations or emails... but it's good.
1.16.2018
Birthday Donuts
The twins' birthday happened to fall the day before grocery day, so I had to get a little bit creative for their birthday breakfast. I didn't have the ingredients for any of the recipes I looked up, but I found lots of inspiration from all over the world, and made up my own drop-donut recipe based the ingredients I had on hand. I must say I'm very proud of how they turned out, and will definitely be making them this way again!
Orange Spice Potato Puffs
1 potato, peeled, boiled, and mashed
1 egg
1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
1 drop food grade orange oil or 1tsp orange zest
1 cup flour
1/4 cup sugar
1 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. nutmeg
1/4 cup coconut flakes
Mash together potato, egg, vinegar, and orange oil/zest. Combine dry ingredients and add to potato mixture.
Drop spoonfuls of batter into hot fat and fry until golden brown. Roll in cinnamon sugar.
Orange Spice Potato Puffs
1 potato, peeled, boiled, and mashed
1 egg
1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
1 drop food grade orange oil or 1tsp orange zest
1 cup flour
1/4 cup sugar
1 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. nutmeg
1/4 cup coconut flakes
Mash together potato, egg, vinegar, and orange oil/zest. Combine dry ingredients and add to potato mixture.
Drop spoonfuls of batter into hot fat and fry until golden brown. Roll in cinnamon sugar.
9.23.2017
Last night I tangled with a bike in the driveway and banged myself up pretty badly. My knee is feeling somewhat better, but my hips, ankles, shoulder, and back all ache from trying to hobble around without putting weight on my knee. When one part suffers, the whole body feels it, and it's not easy on the rest of the family when I'm incapacitated like this. Andrew was going to go study tonight, but since I need to stay off my feet, he set up a cozy nest for me in the garden cart, brewed me some tea, and we're sitting together in the gentle evening breeze. The kids are running around playing some variant of cops and robbers as he studies and I write. The pressing ache in my chest means that it's time for another poem. I don't know where this one's going, but I'm excited. Occasionally the kids pause their game to tell us what they're doing or to ask about our progress. It's the kind of moment that makes all the other moments worthwhile, and all in all, I'm glad.
9.18.2017
Johnny brought me some paper and a broken crayon (Strawberry Red).
"Wrap."
So I wrapped it up (again), hoping that this time he would forget about the tape.
He didn't.
"Tape."
So I taped it up (again), gave it to him, and he danced, beaming like Chesterton's sun.
"Present!"
Then he opened his gift, marveled at the shard of pink-red wax, and asked me to wrap it again.
Because that is what crayons, pens, and paper are for: unwrapping wonder and making it new, again and again and again.
"Wrap."
So I wrapped it up (again), hoping that this time he would forget about the tape.
He didn't.
"Tape."
So I taped it up (again), gave it to him, and he danced, beaming like Chesterton's sun.
"Present!"
Then he opened his gift, marveled at the shard of pink-red wax, and asked me to wrap it again.
Because that is what crayons, pens, and paper are for: unwrapping wonder and making it new, again and again and again.
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