Bright, Wintry Day

The sun was shining and we needed a cure for our cabin fever, so after donning all our warm gear, we walked out into the white that has become our world.  It's a known fact that Sawyer loves the snow, and never minds how low the temperature gets, but Elouise has more freeze baby tendencies, so I've sheltered and bundled her and scurried her from warm place to warm place, until now.  To my surprise, she loves the snow! She laughs at it, she lays down on the ground to rub her face in it and eat it, and if it didn't make her hands cold, she would love holding it (but, hey, wouldn't we all?).

We girlies had to run to keep up with Mr. Adventure, who's new trick is grabbing a (mittened) handful of snow and tossing it high into the air shouting, "Sprinkles!" and then melting into a laughing puddle of joy. Then he bounces back up to get more snow and do it all over again.

Sourdough Pancakes

  

Nom nom nom, right?

For as long as I can remember, in the dreary dark corners of the back, very back, of the fridge, there lurked a jar full of bubbly goop with a layer of rust-colored liquid on top. It survived all of our moves and all of our once-a-decade questioning of, "ewww, what is this?" Lonely, forgotten, un-fed, old bottle of sourdough starter. What I didn't ever know was that this starter was a living legend. It was given to my mother by my Gram's family, handed down to them from the gold miners.  We're talking California freaking gold rush minors here, people.

I never knew how precious that murky old starter was until recently, when I opened the fridge and noticed a vacancy in the periphery, and the truth came out about it's origin and it's final resting place. Sad, sad loss.  But this story has a happy ending. My sister gave me sourdough starter from King Arthur Flour for Christmas and I've been dutifully feeding and caring for it like it's my third child. I lovingly refer to it as Wormaline, or Burt, or even Mon Cherizzle.  My favorite way to use it up, is coincidentally, also the easiest way to cook with it: pancakes! Sourdough pancakes are a pillow of dreams, softer and spongier than a pedicure toe separator, light, yet dense, basically everything a pancake hopes it will griddle up to be. 

I am in love.

Sourdough Pancakes
adapted slightly from Better Homes and Gardens, Baking Ideas magazine, 1980

1 C sourdough starter
1 C warm milk
1 Tbsp canola oil
1 beaten egg
1 1/4 C all-purpose flour
3 Tbsp granulated sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda

Bring starter to room temperature, then combine with milk, oil, and egg.
Combine flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.  Add all at once to starter mixture and stir until blended, but slightly lumpy.  

Heat griddle to 350 degrees F, or pre-heat a skillet, and for each pancake use about 1/4 batter. 

We like to eat them with applesauce and cinnamon butter, fresh berries and whipped cream, or caramel syrup.

Or just plain. They are yummy.

There are places to purchase sourdough starter and even people who are willing to send you some of theirs upon request (really, just look it up), but here's a recipe for starter if you'd like to make your own:

Sourdough Starter
1 pkg active dry yeast
2 1/2 C warm water (110 to 115 degrees F)
2 C all-purpose flour
1 Tbsp sugar or honey

Dissolve yeast in 1/2 C of the water. Stir in remaining water, flour, and sugar. Beat until smooth. Cover with thin towel or cheese cloth.

Let stand at room temperature for 5-10 days, stirring 2-3 times each day.

Starter is ready when it has a sour smell and small bubbles rise gently to the surface.

To store, put in non-reactive container (I use a glass mason jar) and cover loosely. Refridgerate.

To replenish: for every one cup starter used, stir in 3/4 C flour and 3/4 C water, and 1 tsp sugar or honey into remaining starter. Cover loosely and leave out at room temperature 1 day or until bubbly.

To feed: if not used regularly, feed the starter with 1 tsp sugar or honey every 10 days.


 
 

Sawyer's Dragon Birthday

I don't even know where to begin with my Sawyer boy.  Even the lady at check-out the other day looked at him and said, "You're awesome! Do you know that?" If only words like awesome, amazing, and incredible could contain him, this would be easy!

Let's start with some of his own words.

"I'm not a listening, I'm a BOY!"

"I make you happy, with a kiss."

""You best my friend? Best my friend, Mama Rachel?"

"Yuck! That tastes like dirt!"

"No, it's alright Mama, I make you fly!" -as he throws pixie dust sand at me

"Peter Pan wears a leaf shirt."

"What's you name? What tolor you eyes?"

"Mama, what's the moon do at day?"

That's a meager sample, because Sawyer talks ALL THE TIME. He comes up with the most creative games, stories, explanations, and the most endearing expressions of love and kindness.

"It's ok mama, that happens."

"We tan tlean it up. I get the broom"

Potty training hasn't come easily.  He seems to be of the 'what train, and why should I care if I get on it, 'attitude.  There seems to be no way I can motivate him to care, either.  That would be the Jeff in him. My boys don't really respond to external motivation. When the time for peer pressure comes, I know I'll be really glad Sawyer has this trait, but now, when I'd really like him to respond to the promise of a big crane truck upon training completion, or the threat of taking toys away, or any promise or threat or non-issue, even, he does not.   Some days go great, others not so much. But when I don't react with my best, Sawyer hits me with this:

"I so sorry I make you mad, Mama. I so sorry. I'm sad too."  So you know, no big deal.  We'll keep plugging away at this thing.

Sawyer is amazing at nearly everything else.  He loves to paint, color, play with playdough, build things with boxes and blocks, pretend, pretend, pretend, play board games, make up games, sing ABCs, do puzzles, name some of the shapes, count to 20 in a very round about way, eat fruits and veggies of all kinds and colors, turn down cookies and doughnuts-both at home and when offered them at church or the store- and make treasure maps.  He's getting a strong sense of print awareness, and is picking up on "if, then" logic very well. He likes to try and identify how things turn on, turn off, and how they function. That's pretty cool.

Pirates, crocodiles, dinosaurs, castles, knights, and dragons are HUGE for him right now.  He thinks Jesus is in the sun, and God is in the moon.  If we forget to sing a song for him at night, he'll ask for one ("Hey, what bout my song?") He loves to crack eggs and kick icicles. He hides under my bed when he should be sleeping. 

He tells jokes.  When the doctor asked him what he likes for breakfast, he put his finger to the corner of his mouth and said, "Hmmm. Hmmm." Then he turned his head to the side, and with a gleam in his eye, said, "Marshmallows!" Then giggled, obviously pleased with himself. By the end of his 3rd year appointment the doctor told me how much she really liked him and how fun he was.

That's my Sawyer. Wonderful, fabulous, great, to strangers and friends alike.

New Year, 2015

We just took a little visit to West Side Market, where you know, altercations happen regularly in the parking lot, so I was shouting out the window, putting people in their place, and Shane was backing me up, nearly ready to spend the Eve booked in the big house, and Jeff was exceedingly embarassed and my Mama was flustered by it all.

So Shane and I are trying to be less confrontational and more forgiving, starting at 12:01 a.m.

Putting all that ruckus behind us, we came home to have a safe, family-friendly, small, but lively celebration with the littles and lots of noise makers.

Hope you have a happy new year!

Christmas Eve, then the Big Day

Ah, Christmas.  

Christmas Eve is our big celebration day, and we started it off with a trip to Cleveland's West Side Market for lunch....and we also may have picked up a few desserts along the way....We met my aunt and uncle and cousins there, and by a serendipitous chance, also ran into my good friend Jacquelyn and her family. That was ridiculously awesome, considering how big the Market is, and how many people were there, but you know, great minds think alike, right Jacq?! 

We returned home to prepare a Mexican feast for dinner.  For most of our lives, we've been Christmas ham people, but Robyn, being a southern desert girl, has been of the Mexican food persuasion, so at her suggestion we cobbled together a delicious, south-of-the-border celebration.

After eating a wholesome amount of assorted cakes, the time for our Christmas pageant had finally arrived! Everyone gathered this and that, and tied scarves here and wrapped fabric there, and voila! Costumes!
The roles were as follows:
Mama- narrator
Dad- innkeeper
Shane- sheep, donkey
Robyn- shepherd
Jeff- wise man
Rachel- angel
Sawyer- Joseph, wise man
Elouise- Mary

Fitting, no? We all thought it was pretty perfect, and absolutely hilarious, and completely wonderful. Maybe the only Christmas moment that topped it was the next morning as we all waited at the top of the stairs with baited breath, Sawyer cheered and excitedly snatched up Shane and Robyn's hands and directed everyone else to do the same. So in one great, big long chain, we fumbled down the stairs.

When Sawyer saw his gifts he covered his mouth and jumped up and down and tore through presents one at a time, playing with each before moving on to the next.

Lula was quite content to open three gifts, play with them, then left the rest for me as she made her way to the brunch table.