Annual T'Giving Report

We celebrate Thanksgiving at Jason's parents house in the Berkshires every year. Once, a few years back, the oven door fell off its hinges first thing Thanksgiving morning. It got pretty hairy. In retrospect maybe that was a good thing because we've had something pretty basic to be thankful for each year since. It stayed on this year. Good year!

Three cousins fishing:

Rosemary running with rainbow stick-ribbon thing from cousin Mimi. Thanks Mimi! It is a big hit. (And sweater made by knitter extraordinaire Mimi for Sam in the early 1970s, incidentally.)

Dash and Rosie:

Talking and singing at the little table. They were trying to remember the words to Old McDonald on their own.

Elijah surrounded by thugs:

Okay, that was actually Elijah winning a game of touch football.

Rosie throwing the ball to Uncle John:

I can't believe I didn't get a single picture of anyone playing Sorry this weekend, since basically it was one big fat fun Sorry tournament, punctuated by occasional rounds of Mastermind. Elijah has been playing Sorry at school and so we all ended up getting into it. Here's one of R sneaking in a round of Mastermind (albeit only the peg-putting-in part of Mastermind).

Happy Thanksgiving!

Rosemary napped as we drove up from the city to the Berkshires, and when she woke up she overheard us talking about an article Jason had read about a guy who tried to cook a heritage turkey, but had a hard time finding an appropriate recipe because it was only 8 pounds. R had been quiet for about two hours when she suddenly perked up and said, increduously, "Cooking a BIRD? That's so silly!"

Close Encounters of the Doll Kind, Part II

And then on Saturday we stopped by a cool store on Smith Street. I'm sorry to say I can't recall what its name is, because they've got amazing selection of old toys and other vintage thingees, and equally amazing new hand-knitted hats and scarves. (As classic a Smith Street combination these days as, say, grass-fed, locally grown pork belly and organic baby kale shoots.) Plus, the owner is lovely and does not mind when 2 year olds put their greasy mitts on giant, slightly scary Barbie and try to undress her.

R hanging out in the front on the rocking chair that the store owner specially brought out for her to sit on.

Roadside Attraction

We walk by this vintage stuff store on our way to and from school and in the afternoons they usually have racks of clothes and boxes of old magazines and sheet music outside. We never pay much attention. But last Thursday they simplified their display and offered up only a cozy little trio of china dolls. I especially like the decorative touch of the bungee cord. Rosemary stopped to admire what she identified as "two moms with their baby," posed proudly for pictures with them, and refused to leave for about 15 minutes. Somehow I only got so-so pictures but the whole thing was so funny I had to put it up.

Want a closer look?

Chocolate!

(Pronounced "sho-co-LAHT," the way my wonderful Grandmama always said it. Writing that I can just hear her say, "I'll have a cappuccino with just a sprinkle of chocolate on top" as she wiggles her fingers around in a sprinkling gesture.)

Anyhow, chocolate. It's always big around here but yesterday I had a funny conversation with Rosemary about it. We were at a shop yesterday that had Hanukkah gelt. Her Grandmama (Jason's mom) brought her a little bag of it last week, so naturally Rosie gravitated toward it right away. She asked to look at it several times, and finally pulled one down from the shelf, held it tenderly in her hand like a baby chick, and then after a fashion started trying to poke a pinky finger through the mesh. When I said we were just looking at it, not buying it and not eating it, she said, "I know. I'm just remiring it." Jason smartly described that as a new word somewhere in between remembering and admiring. We will be working it in.

An Elephant

Rosemary's teacher wrote down this story that she told today at school. Nice of her to email it to us.

An Elephant
He fell down and got a blister on his foot. His mommy made it feel better, but sometimes that doesn't make it feel better. He put a band-aid on it. A dinosaur is his mommy. Sometimes everybody comes over dinner. They have funny names, but they can really talk.

Miss Mix-A-Lot's Buttermilk Biscuits

Here's what happens when you buy buttermilk. It lurks in your fridge for 4 weeks at which point you chuck it, or it lurks in your fridge for 3 weeks and then, in a race against time, you start all sorts of unusual baking projects. Only unusual in that I rarely bake. On Friday we made biscuits and I figured for once I'd let Rosemary be in charge. Baking together always seems like a good idea, but usually ends up in frustration + mess, since one of us wonders why, if you can dip the spoon in the baking powder once and then put it in the bowl, can't you do it five times?

Anyway, I figured biscuits were a little less finicky than other baked stuff, so I put a big sheet down on the floor and let R be in charge. I measured, she dumped and stirred. We had a good time (despite how serious she looks here).

What's Fair

The other night, after Halloween candy collection was complete, we were discussing consumption of said candy with Rosemary. Jason and I agreed she could eat two pieces that night, and one every day thereafter until it was gone. I considered this a pretty good deal since my inclination was really to give her two pieces on Halloween night and then spirit the rest away forever. Into my belly. But Rosemary looked at us and said, "But--but--that's not fair." I feel like some of these things that kids say are like mushrooms or fruit flies, they just sprout up out of nowhere when the conditions are right.

She continues to work it in, like this morning when I told her after breakfast I'd put on a Sesame Street while she went to wash her hands. She was really amped for some reason, can't recall why. "All right!!" she screamed, sounding a lot like Bobcat Goldthwait. "That sounds FAIR!"

Boo in the Zoo + Halloween

We took our tiger to Boo in the Zoo at Prospect Park Zoo the other day:

A scary ghoul took our picture, as you might gather from R's horrified expression.

Rosemary's Halloween costume was a redux from last year's back up. It was the end of a long discussion of possible costumes that included:

a) cookies and cream

b) lightening

c) witch

d) spider witch

e) lightening spider

f) silver witch

And as it so often is w/ a toddler, the correct answer is

g) none of the above

Trick or treating in Cobble Hill is always equal parts fun and insane. Some places (good candy distribution sites) are as crowded as a 5 train at rush hour. Brooklyn is about the best place I've ever seen on Halloween because people sit outside on their stoops so you don't have to do all that pesky doorbell ringing. Rosemary had a great time for about 25 minutes and then was done. Honestly, I think she had a premonition that any further candy would probably be confiscated and consumed by grown ups, so what was the point.

As a special bonus in this one you can see me dressed up as aging Poison frontman Bret Michaels.

Roar V. Moo

Despite appearances the cow (Peter, one of R's dear buddies) totally held his own.

Deep Breakfast Thought

Said yesterday while eating a bowl of O's and gazing out the window at the apartment building across the way: "If we were living in that house, we'd be using someone else's potty."