Spring!!

It might not seem like spring back in Nebraska, but here the first sure sign of old man winter's departure is the blossoming of the freeway flower.

Now that we live in bfe, we spend plenty of time on the road. (Thankyou Mary Pope Osbourne for creating two hundred billion Magic Treehouse audiobooks.)

First the Mustard flowers start popping up, then the Golden Poppy--which, according to Phin, my friend's son--is the California state flower. (Actually, I already knew that, but I didn't learn that valuable tidbit until I was in my thirties. He, on the other hand, is in his twos. He can also identify all of the states, unlike myself.)

I'm going to snag his copy of Fifty Nifty United States, so I can brush up on all of those pesky Eastern states. Not that the states, themselves are pesky. They just happened to be my personal, fifth-grader's geography nightmare. And the point where my brain gave up on learning geography.

Although my brain did write a stunning fifth-grade report on Native American Indians. Unfortunately, it didn't start writing the stunning report until the day before it was due (or was it the day after?) and my dear eldest sister had to "help" me finish it. Having spent an inordinate amount of time perfecting an intricate Crayola beadwork tapestry on the cover--including a snazzy construction paper fringe that echoed the handmade design of a Lakota Sioux dance shawl, I had very little time to focus on the five daunting paragraphs of the actual paper. But I digress.

Anyway, in celebration of the short window of time before it becomes so unbearably hot, I'll be wishing I lived in Siberia, we drove to St. helena to get some pics in the mustard fields. I don't know why looking at a field of yellow weeds makes me want to cry. They are just soooo pretty.

February

Time has been zooming by at the old sister-number-three house. Not much to blog about, but I'll give it a try since sister-number-one is busy with a class full of kids and sister-number-two is busy with a belly full of kid.

We've been potty training our two-year-old, which is a fun-filled endeavor. I'll spare you the pictures. Not that I have any, since I took a solemn vow not to take naked baby pictures of my kids, which I have mostly upheld.

We've been planting flowers.




We've been freezing (not by Nebraskan standards) our booties--and fingers--off at the park.

I have sunk to a new, use-your-sock-as-a-mitten low. I thought for sure I'd avoid that one with my own children. But seriously, where do all of those frickin' mittens disappear to?

I'm taking an indesign class so I can learn how to layout a picture book for Isabella's pre-school class. We needed something to auction during the school's annual fundraiser and we came up with the idea of making a storybook about the creatures in their garden. Since I can't draw or paint, I'm taking pics of all of the kids dressed up like ladybugs and gnomes and fairies and stuff and I'm going to tweak them and cut and past them in photoshop, then turn the photos into "watercolors" for the illustrations.

Here's one of some soon-to-be rolly pollies.

Andrew's taking some grad classes and has started a foray into mushroom growing. (Not the psychedelic kind, although there is an amazing amount of information on that topic available on the web. Who knew?) Our upcoming crop = oyster and shitake. We'll post some pictures if it works. For now, the only pictures would be the amazingly annoying quantity of mushroom-spore-filled containers hidden in dark places all over the house.

Blogger won't let me post any more pics for some reason right now. I think it's a message from the universe to bring this post to a close. Hope everyone is staying warm and having a great February!!!

Durango

It was a very sad day for me a few weeks back when my beloved Honda Civic conked out. True, it did have about 220,000 miles on it, and we'll probably end up getting it fixed to have as a backup car, but we figured it was time to upgrade from a two door.

We've been talking for years about our next car . . . a nice safe volvo or a sporty/nerdy prius (depending on which sister's opinion you're getting). I definitely never imagined myself driving

this big-ass carbon footprint monster truck wannabe.

If my memory serves me correctly, I think sister 2 had one of these with a very squeaky rear window.

Strangely, it is starting to grow on me.

Beef. It's What's for Dinner

Beef.  It's what's for dinner.

  That ad campaign started in 1992

and today's prime rib could have a starring role.

The back up players included a nice bottle of wine,

Our new holiday favorite --- 

roasted brussel sprouts in brown butter with toasted almonds,

garlic roasted potatoes and crescent rolls.

It just doesn't get any better than this!

Now it's time for a nap!

Happy New Year

2009 couldn't be complete without a few more embarrassing moments for my sisters. But because my new year's resolution is to try to be a nicer person, I didn't pull out the big guns.

Also, I know Trudy will retaliate.

So here is a quick reminder of days gone by and a few before and afters just for fun.

2010 is sure to have many highs and lows, but it is not likely to surpass the style-high of the decade, the trend that never caught on, but definitely should have:

The era of the purple star pants.

And it seems like only yesterday that these scrappy sisters were fighting one minute, hugging the next.

Oh wait, it was yesterday.

One has to wonder what kind of excitement 2010 will bring . . .

Cross-country flights?

Auspicious celebrations?

Orangutan look-alike contests?

Our (six) readers will have to decide who the winner is.

But wherever the new year takes us

Crowded airports

Or wide-open spaces,

hospital waiting rooms

or other places,

know that we are wishing you the happiest of new years!