Eating Early Fall

I love to bake, and cook in general, so I’m tremendously thrilled when I had a Sunday afternoon with time to bake (two kids in a nap, one in an extended quiet time, and a husband at the football game).

Exhibit A: Peach Pie with a very handsome football fan. Note the glassy stare from lack of napping.

Beets: one of my favorite fall vegetables, that I can’t seem to get anyone in my house to eat. Our au pair likes them, but she’s from Germany and I think Europeans (or at the ones that I know) have a more varied palette and actually enjoy eating vegetables. But put enough cream on those lovely beets and call them pink carrots (nudge nudge wink wink) and my kids ate them pretty well. Here are the leftovers since I was too excited to eat them to take any sort of “before” photo. A beet gratin with mint and feta from the most recent Bon Appetit. Hello yum, I can’t wait to eat more of you for lunch tomorrow.

Despite the cooler-than-usual summer here, my Sungold and Black Cherry tomatoes are still ripening, and I just picked a few strawberries that the boys forgot about during the last few days of rain. My one lonely sunflower seed that wasn’t uprooted by the squirrels is now seven feet tall. The apples are falling and my new tree has fruit in its third fall.

I’m looking forward to pumpkins!

Fat and Happy

Dear Violet,

You really should know that I’m quite jealous of you, snoozing half naked in daddy’s arms. That breastmilk has really done you well.

Love, Mom

Simple Swapping

Even the simple swap is tough. Limited to 3 items, its hard to edit yourself sometimes. Especially when you find something that “perfect” for your partner. The three-item swap though might even make the contents more particular, or more special. A huge thanks to Steph for a perfect 1-2-3.
Before:

After:

Two skeins of Crystal Palace Merino 5 in an ominous blue-gray (love), a sheepy tape measure (one of those things I’ve always wanted, but am way too practical to buy myself…and as I think about it, how is a tape measure inside a wooly case not practical…I’m way too ridiculous sometimes, I may need to add to the flock…), and a handmade  Amy Butler fabric notebook case (as well as a great little handmade card which is technically item #4, but I’m not telling Crystal).
While the boys are breaking in the new “measure sheep”, I’m off to doodle in my new project planner…

Blanket and Buddies

I love a good sleepy baby. I present Violet, Nemo and Bunny, taking a nap.

Rhubarb, Two Ways

I feel like I’m on Top Chef saying that. I can barely get something one way in a timely manner, so I have no clue how they prepare scallops or pork loin or ostrich two ways in a matter of 20 minutes ( or however long they have). Oh wait, they probably don’t have up to three children racing through their kitchen, pleading for “some” and wanting to play with all the dirty dishes in the sink.
My two ways are from different days, not too terrible close together, but they are two of the brightest ways I have found to celebrate my favorite vegetable this summer. Yes, rhubarb is a vegetable (botanically anyhow).


The first is a strawberry rhubarb tart from Mark Peel’s New Classic Family Dinners.
I borrowed the book from the library so I don’t actually remember what it was called, but you make a pate sucree, cover it with a rhubarb compote (boiled with a vanilla bean, yum!), arrange some thoughtfully-sliced strawberries on top and sprinkle some “crisp” material over everything. Uh yeah, this was good. A must-check-out from the library for sure.





The second is a hand-me-up from a knitting friend, from her friend’s granny, now dubbed Granny Smith’s Rhubarb Bars. Not terribly congenial like the first recipe, but still yummy. Think brown sugar and vanilla with some awesome rhubarb tarty sweetness.

I’m including the recipe for two reasons: one, obviously to share with anyone that might find this recipe and have extra rhubarb on hand, and two, in case I lose my copy. I’ve altered the original a bit in case Granny Smith comes after me.



Granny Smith’s Rhubarb Bars
4c sliced rhubarb
1.5c sugar
1/4c water (I would omit if using frozen rhubarb)
1tsp vanilla
Boil the first three together and simmer until the rhubarb breaks down and starts to thicken, about 20 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in vanilla
1.5c oats
1.5c flour (can substitute whole wheat flour)
1c brown sugar
1/2tsp salt
1c butter, cold, cut into chunks
Combine everything but the flour in a food processer and process until combined. Add the butter and pulse until the butter gets to about pea size.
Butter a 9x11 pan. Press 3/4 of the oat mixture into the pan, cold hands work well for this. Cover with the rhubarb. Sprinkle the remaining oats of the top. Bake at 375F for 35-40 minutes or until top begins to brown. Cool completely before cutting (if you can wait that long). Best at room temp, but it will last longer if stored in the refrigerator.
Enjoy. Happy rhubarb to you!

Lately

I’m always meaning to post with more frequency but it doesn’t seem interesting (even to me) if there is no picture associated with it. I tell myself that I will post that photo of the kids picking raspberries, or the stages of making strawberry rhubarb jam,  or what I proudly baked, or just funny kid faces (and there are many). Alas, I don’t. So a recap of my week (or two, maybe three)…
Went to Connecticut for Whitney’s funeral. Its always fun to see my family (who else knows what a South Dakota martini is?) and having our reunion be for a funeral makes it ever so bittersweet. I was there with my two brothers and my mom, and we had a great time during our drive from Newark to Darien. I had no idea my younger brother has had upwards of 20 jobs (and nearly as many “incidents” involving a car or truck). That was many of the topics we covered during rush hour traffic. Good fun.


Violet was a trooper during the plane ride, and I was happy to have had her with me. She was also a crowd favorite during this truly tragic time. I did a reading during the funeral and was wearing Vi in my front pack, furiously rubbing her fuzzy head so that I could get through it without a complete meltdown. Its comforting to have babies at a funeral. And of course, the only pictures I took were of her.






    
 

The weather has been so hot its put a damper on my baking, but I’ve made several rounds of jam: raspberry freezer jam, strawberry-rhubarb and a mixed berry. I’m not usually a fan of berries all mixed together (I like to enjoy them in their singularity),  but damn, this stuff is good. Heavy on the blueberry. A few of my fine soldiers:


And then there is some proof of a good dessert, although the finished product was ever documented…and I don’t actually remember what it was that I made. Something with lots of eggs (yolks to be exact, the whites are still in my fridge) and lemons.







My yard is growing kale and rhubarb successfully. The boys were sad when pea season ended, but that was quickly followed by raspberries. They are still finding the everbearing strawberries and we’re getting dangerously close to cherry tomatoes. I know that once those little clusters start to shed their green skins for a rosier (or sunnier) hue I won’t be able to keep the boys out of the garden. At least I’ll be able to stop buying popsicles. 

We broke out the pool and squirt guns last week. I’m trying not to referee the boys too much. Does it really matter if they make mud under the deck? Probably not. Do I care if they are drowning the parsley and chives? I shouldn’t. Should I make sure they don’t get grass, dirt, rocks, etc in the pool? No!! Sometimes I’m a little too particular, and they are boys playing outside after all. I could have them in my house. I need to just lay down in the chaise lounge and watch! Now where is that baby??

Happy summering. Its August tomorrow! Back to work in three days…

Dear Whitney,

You died yesterday. You were in a bizarre car crash that killed you just blocks from your house. No one else was hurt other than two houses, a tree and an SUV. No one but your fiancé, your parents, your sister and your enormous family.
You were getting in two months. I was going to put the reply card in the mail today since Steve and I were hoping to come so we could celebrate with you and share our little Violet with the family. You were in my wedding. I was going to lend you my veil. I just talked to you on Thursday about your future sister-in-law and other family drama…
You were funny and sarcastic (a true Dougherty), loving and easy to love. I remember staying with your family over Easter break when I was at Holy Cross and driving that giant old car around. Was that a Lincoln or something? It was huge, whatever it was. I remember being with you at Grandma and Grandpa’s Sun City house. I remember you getting a terrible sunburn in South Dakota…I think you were 5 or 6… I remember our phone conversation about a month ago, planning your trip out here next August so Doug could meet the west coast family.
I hear your voice and I’m shocked that you are no longer here. This shouldn’t  happen. I am a family member that had to be notified according to the news article. I am so sad with your family. I am sad remembering that same phone conversation and talking about why you weren’t getting married in the Church, and how Grandma and Grandpa must be shaking their fist at you from heaven. I’m sure they sadly welcome you now, and I’m happy that they are there for you. You may not have felt a part of a church or a community right now, but God always called as one of his.
What can I do to make this feel better? Violet cries and I want to keep writing. I love you Whit.
Always in my heart and my memory, Courtney
   
Whitney Healy Smith, April 28, 1980 – July 11, 2010

You are my Violet

Baby girl finally has a name: Violet Kathleen. The complete stats: born at home May 26th at 8:01 am after a mere 5 hours of labor (yep, from start to finish); 8lbs 8oz, 20.5” long.

 

She is named after Steve’s grandmother and her middle name makes an appearance with several aunts in my family, most notably my mom’s aunt Kate, whose husband Dave officiated our wedding and baptised Timothy (being that he’s a Deacon he can do all those great things).

I’m still a little surprised it was a girl after all, but I couldn’t be happier. She seems to be adjusting easier than Ryan did so hopefully the first couple weeks will be a little easier on me. I’m optimistic that I’ll spend less time locked in the bathroom screaming into a towel because my newborn won’t. stop. crying. Much time was spent at my prenatal appointments talking about the precarious emotional state that is post-partum, and my dear midwife was able to convince me that, while my physical body may remember what it was like to be pregnant, go into labor and nurse a baby, my emotions are a lot more unpredictable and don’t necessarily remember at what low point they left off at with the last baby. Good news.

Three days today and she’s doing so well. Mom and Dad are in love (with each other and baby), Timothy is smitten and will easily sit for an hour holding his new prize, and Ryan prefers to steal her toys and sit in her bouncy seat.  All is well.

Welcome Little One

A week past her due date, little baby D #3 arrived at home this morning, much to the delight of her two big brothers. I guess she needed the threat of castor oil and pitocin to make her move. Born at 8:01am, weighing in at a whopping 8lb 8oz (nearly a pound greater than the other babes) and 20.5” long, here she is (name pending):

Her story (in my words):

Last night, after acupuncture and spicy Thai food, we went in for a non-stress test and to write out a plan for the next week with our midwife. Starting with herbs last night and more acupuncture for a couple days, then castor oil over the weekend and a transfer to a nurse midwife and hospital by Tuesday. It wasn’t the original plan, but a plan was called for since we were anticipating having baby at home and I was going into post-dates. I’ve always said that I’ll have my babies where they need to be born, and if going to hospital was the best thing for this baby, check me in. I’m fortunate to be in good health and have planned home births since our first baby four years ago.

After a round of herbs and bouncing on the exercise ball for about two hours while trying to finish knitting a sleeve, and watching the Dancing with the Stars finale (why must they ruin my show with The Bachelor…), off to bed I went not anticipating, though desperately hoping, for labor to start. Fast forward a couple hours to 3am and I wake up with some contractions. Pain enough to wake me up, but not often enough to get up. Two and half hours later, the contractions were getting under 10 minutes and by 6:15am, I paged the midwife and she planned to arrive in an hour. After that, I made some tea, promptly threw all of it up, and was pretty much in active labor. At 7:15a, when the midwife arrived I was having pretty intense contractions, but not really close together. She checked me out and I was at 9cm. Much like the last two babies, all I needed was something to get me to the tipping point, and it was a speeding bullet from there. Forty-five minutes later and some slow-breathing through those last tricky contractions and crowning, baby girl came sliding out.

I feel like there was a little more to it than that, but it was pretty much like the last baby: quick and dirty. Our 2yo came in at the right time help Daddy cut the cord; he was happy to do anything that required scissors. Baby and I climbed into bed, snuggled, and she latched on to nursing like a pro. Maybe that extra week helped.

Steve and I had talked a lot about whether we wanted the boys there during labor or not. It really depended on the time of day and some other factors, but the timing of this baby couldn’t have been better. Timothy woke up shortly after the midwife got there and was a little alarmed to see Dr. Tracy (she is also his pediatrician). When I explained to him that she was going to help our baby come today, he opted to stay home instead of go on his preschool field trip. Our au pair was up a little earlier than usual to make the boys breakfast and she brought them down right as the slippery peanut came out. Ryan was more than happy to observe the action, but Timothy was a little hesitant and waited until Daddy came out with the baby while I was get a little sewing done.

The boys love her. We couldn’t be happier. She’s been a stellar sleeper and nurser all day. She’s snoozing now and I should probably wake her so I can get some more sleep later.  I’m so happy you’re finally here little one.

Miscellany

A bunch of things are about to be described in no particular order and in no relation to one another, other than being related to me.

First, we got pictures of the “mommy baby tummy”. I did when I was pregnant with T and R and they’ve gotten more silly (and probably more precious) with each successive child. I think this one was the best though.

It was probably the last pose (if you can call it that) and I was ready to go when Steve suggested this. It mimics the last one with just  T where he is sitting on my tummy and we’re snuggling heads, but now my big boy is my backpack and my little boy gets the spot on the belly.

In a way this photo feels like motherhood to me: the boys get bigger and new ones arrive, and they’re always going to be stuck to you either by choice or necessity, big or small, heavy or light, happy or sad.

My arm and my hair look okay in this picture too, and at 38 weeks, its the little victories that count!

 

 

 

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On to knitting. My last Ravelry swap before the baby, and probably for a while, went out with a bang. I struggled with some colorwork mittens for my partner and was ultimately sad to see them go, but what goes around comes around with these things. My swap package arrived today and I couldn’t be happier with the thoughtful package that my partner sent me. The theme was “Sock it to me” and any knitting or yarn had to be fingering weight or in the general vicinity.

I love it when stuff is wrapped. I always wrap stuff, partially because I find great pleasure in wrapping presents and mostly because I know people like opening presents. Here is most of it, all wrapped up, spilling out of its box.

The packages on top were specifically put there for the small children in my life, so they can take their goodies and scram. They never actually scram because the entire contents of any box belongs to them, but there’s always the hope that I can savor carefully unwrapping “my” stuff. “Their” stuff:  some crazy cat-eye sunglasses, a wind up frog bath toy, and a pair of Cars themed socks for each of them. Hello? How much does my 4 yo LOVE that movie. These goodies hit my kids right on!  

And for me, a perfectly crafted, thoughtful package as if I had picked it myself. My partner obviously studied my wish list, questionnaire and probably the rest of my Ravel-life, and sent me some great finds. “My” stuff: 

• Box of Mighty Leaf tea in chamomile citrus
• Hank of Madelinetosh Lace in Celadon (swoon)
• Fall 2009 Interweave Knits that is out of print (gasp) and I’ve been dying to get a hard copy of
• Magnet that says “Yo”, my 2yo’s favorite salutation at the moment
• Bar of bittersweet chocolate (drool)
• Lusciously soft, fantastically blue, perfectly fitting pair of handknit socks (weak in the knees) in DIC Smooshy (faint)

 

Thank you Beth for a fantastic package. I loved it and I totally appreciate the thought (and knitting!) that went into it. Oh yeah, my feet thank you too!

I took this by my lilac tree on purpose, because I saw that you are from Texas and I know a few Texans who have a fondness for them, but miss them as they don’t really grow down there. If you are one of these such Texans, enjoy.

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I made cookies today. A day without cookies is like a day without sunshine. From Martha Stewart’s Everyday Food (May 2010): Raspberry-Lemon Whoopie Pies.

I didn’t “pie” them, per se, but they did turn out to be slightly lemony, puffy and cakey, and fit perfectly with the whipped cream-smashed raspberry frosting. Definitely a keeper. As with all Martha recipes the baking time was off, but I managed.

Thank You x 10 (at least)

I love mail. I don’t even mind the grocery ads that come every Wednesday anymore. The boys are my mail retrievers when I come home from work in the evening, and that tends to make things an exciting adventure when they help. Unexpected mail is even better, good, unexpected mail, in a big box.

That very thing greeted me at the front door when I came home today, and the unexpected return address gave me butterflies.

Here is what was inside:

Nine squares and an expert join from ten people I have never met, but I’m lucky to have friended on a knitting website. A huge heartfelt thanks to Julie, Aryn, Jen, Leslie, Lisa, Irene, Melissa, Susan, Hanna and Bobbi! I’m overwhelmed with this wonderful surprise and so thankful for your generosity. Its perfect, its just what I wanted and didn’t know I needed, and its handmade (I think this is my first handknit gift from anyone that wasn’t part of a swap)! I thank you for all the planning that went in to this and the time you spent to knit for me.

I’m sorry I couldn’t get all the squares in one photo during the daylight, but I’m positive it will be in many photos to come. A truly wonderful gift for our new baby. The boys were very excited…they’re still wondering when, if ever, I’m going to unzip my belly button and let the darn baby out.

Thank you so much ladies! Courtney and Baby D #3 (and Steve and Tito and Ry)

T: Mommy, is that a Yarn Cake?

 

Me: Yes, sweetheart, it is.

T: Are you going to put a candle in it?

What a doll. Love him!

Rhubarb You Could Love

My quest to bake something new with rhubarb may have ended. I love a good rhubarb crisp and I will never turn down jam made with it, but in my house the rhubarb was either stockpiled for an end-of-season jamming or met with little interest on the the dessert plate (the crispy parts and vanilla ice cream was always eaten though). I’ve tried rhubarb in cookies (no), white chocolate-rhubarb muffins (extra-no!) and a blueberry-rhubarb sauce over salmon (there was bacon and butter also involved so that success was a no-brainer).

But a late winter shopping trip on Amazon for my son’s birthday somehow also turned up Rustic Fruit Desserts, a seasonally inspired fruit cookbook that managed to cram rhubarb in nearly every recipe in Spring. Needless to say, I was in love!

I give you the Lemon Rhubarb Bundt Cake, with a gratuitous lemon glaze, baked not in a bundt pan because its in storage for our pending move. Two 9x5 loaf pans have substituted very well. And the second loaf freezes exceptionally in the presences of the rhubarb-haters. I’ve made this four times in as many weeks and I can’t stop. Its so darn easy and tasty that I may have to outsource my jam.

There is enough tartness from the lemon so that even my husband and our au pair have a hard time passing it up. The rhubarb gets soft and is sliced fine enough that its not stringy and keeps it moist for several days (if I can get it to last that long).

A great cookbook for the rhubarb lover, or if you’re looking for converts.

Happy Birthday to me!

 

Happy Birthday to me

I got a swift from my mom

And a ball winder too (yay)

Happy Birthday to me!

Where are the wool pearls?

 

 

In the Etsy world of Madelinetosh there is a legend. Its a felted pearl necklace that used to shine its wooly face as the only thing that ever seems to be for sale on the site. But its no longer there, so we must console ourselves with hoping it will appear from time to time when you least expect it.

Behold: my 4yo that who somehow got a hold of the pearls while watching Kung Fu Panda at Meme’s (grandma) over Easter weekend.

My Baby Can Write His Name!

I’m at lunch with my boys on my day off and while I’m signing the bill my 4yo borrows the pen to “write his name”. ‘This’ll be good’, I think, and when I look over after I’m done he’s already got the T and i down. What? When did he learn to write his name?? (He does go to preschool after all, I’m happy to see that he is learning something concrete there.) He did request help with the first m and the e, but the rest was all my little lefty. So proud.

I’m always sad he’s getting bigger. I still remember telling him not to get bigger when we dropped him off for daycare when he was 4 months old. He now gives me roughly the same response when I tell him not to get any bigger: ‘I AM bigger, but I’ll always be your best guy.’

Looking Up

 

Yes, that’s the ceiling on the left. Legs up in the air, hips at least 10” off the ground, Project Runway finale on, swatching some Madelinetosh Eyre in Conservatory, hoping that baby (peeking up behind the needles) finds its way. The last couple days baby has been head up in my ribs,and at 34 weeks, its time to get flipping.

So here is me hoping baby finds its way. Find the cervix little one. Can’t wait to meet you, but I can’t do this very often…my arms fall asleep trying to knit.

Love, mom.

Happy Birthday #2 Ryan!

How are you already 2 year's old Ry-Ry? I thank you for being the sweet little man you are: silly, careful, noisy, giggly, focused and more. I still don't know where you get that blonde hair from, but I love it and if I could I would never cut that little curl behind you right ear.

Happy birthday to my current baby, you are my peanut butter. Here is your sky today: