I have no need of spoons

Lunch today consisted of some creamy whole-milk yogurt mixed with delicious pureed squash (I always want to try it thinking it's apricot yogurt). Taking advantage of such a moment, I've put together a little photo essay on the artistic qualities of lunch with a 8 month-old.

Contemplating Squash

Of course when Eve lifted her container all the yogurt would drip out. Brilliant.

A budding Jackson Pollack

That is my chair that I had just vacated. You can get upset your you can take a picture and call it art.

Uuuummm Mess!

Those are little bits of banana mixed in there. Uneaten of course.

Fascinating

Eve sat here mesmerized by the dripping water for over 15 minutes when I finally pulled her out.

Must Touch Water

Christmas Spirit is My Excuse

Two years ago Scott and I went to the Tabernacle Choir Christmas Concert and heard the most amazing concert. The guest artist was soprano Renee Fleming (attachment of one of the pieces sung at the concert) which, given the fact that the tickets were free, was a chance of a lifetime to hear in person. The next year for Christmas I got the dvd of the concert and that brings us to this posting. The past few weeks Scott has been working late and it has been rainy and I'm excited for Christmas which basically adds up to me watching said dvd not once, not twice, but four times. It's great and I'd watch it again in a heartbeat.

We're being watched

We recently welcomed a visitor to our home: Erica, the Christmas Elf. Along with her came a note explaining that Santa Clause has sent her to check up on us and to make sure that we are being good. Every morning she is in a new place in our apartment but when people are around she has to hold very still, as said note explains.

This type of things is not unheard of. My sister in Dallas as well as my sister in Pittsburgh each have Christmas elves watching them as well. For those of you who don't know my mother, there is a reason we call her Mother Christmas.

Good thing Christmas elves are tough

Nice Profile

Note the shadow cast by those cheeks.

St. Nicholas Day

My family, being LDS, don't celebrate Catholic feast days, with one exception: December 6th. Last night if you had come by our place you would have seen three pairs of shoes outside our front door. We ran out of carrots a couple of days ago otherwise there would have been carrots in our shoes. This is because on the night before December 6th St. Nicholas rides his horse around to all the homes to see if the children are being good; a sort of pre-Christmas checkup.

Sometimes St. Nicholas sends packages in the mail (apparently he has a satellite workshop in Kaysville, UT) in addition to the gifts/treats left in our shoes. For example, this year Eve received a shiny Christmas tree that winds up and plays music while slowly revolving. Over joyed with this new toy, Eve immediately starts to whack it with her celery. It's all fun and games until mom puts it out of reach but a few tears bring it right back.

P.S. For those who care, I found glitter (from said shiny tree) in Eve's diaper. Real nice.

Happy St. Nicholas Day!

Whacking Shiny Tree

Yelling While Whacking

Too Far Away!

I Love Christmas!

GRANOLA

The rain here in Seattle has been steady all morning so Eve and I have been quarantined here in our apartment. After doing the fun and exciting household chores (laundry, sweeping, clothing repairs, etc.) we decided to make some granola. Scott and I are not big cold cereal fans. In fact all we have is Cheerios, or rather Joe's O's, which Eve devours by the handfuls. However, we do like granola. I've been experimenting for the past couple of months and I think we finally have a winner.

7 cups old-fashioned rolled oats

1 cup almonds or walnuts broken up

1 cup pumpkin seeds

1cup sunflower seeds, raw or toasted

½ cup flaked coconut

¼ cup ground flax seed

½ teaspoon salt

1 cup maple syrup (I use grade B)

¾ cup vegetable oil

1 Tablespoon vanilla extract

1 ½ cup dried mangos*, chopped

1 ½ cup dried pears*, chopped

*Not the sulfur squishy kind but the thin dry homemade-type.

Preheat the oven to 250 degrees F. Combine the oats, coconut, wheat germ, nuts, seeds and salt in a very large bowl. Mix well. In a separate bowl, whisk together the maple syrup, oil and vanilla. Pour the syrup mixture over the dry mixture, stirring and tossing till everything is very well combined.

Spread the granola over 2 large baking sheets with rims.

Bake for 2 hours, stirring the mixture after 1 hour or so. Remove the pans from the oven and let cool completely. Transfer the granola to a large bowl and mix in the dried fruit. Store in the freezer if you have room (ask my sister Mindy about storing home-made granola in the cupboard).

Call me Captain

Yes, I have been tagged. It's a lot of pressure this tagging business. After all I don't have two different feet, I'm not a talented writer and I don't even have old pictures of me to show everyone how cool I once was. But rules are rules and speaking of which:

Here are the rules: Post these rules of "tag" at the beginning of your blog. List 6 facts or habits about yourself. At the end of the post, you must tag 6 people and post their names. Go to their blog and leave them a comment letting them know they have been tagged and to read your blog for more details.

1. Scott and I dated for a total of 11 days before getting engaged. But we always have to emphasis that we new each other since we were 15 so that makes it ok. Don't tell our kids.

2. I was a little princess when I was young. For example, I was the arm-wrestling champion of my elementary school. Sure didn't wear makeup until high school. Was mistaken for a boy on a regular basis until, oh, about 8th grade! In fact, my own cousin thought I was a boy. Took a knife (not a little pocket knife mind you, but a bone-handled hunting knife) to Church when I was 10. Starting around 5 or 6 years old I insisted people call me Captain John Guarder Baser.

3. Now that you know of my "Captain John Years" it will come as no surprise to you that I never held hands or kissed or had a boy friend until Scott and I started dating two and 1/2 years ago. Fortunately for me, Scott finds my fondness for building fires, hardware stores, tools, knives and wearing no makeup endearing.

4. Fact #2 is a result of my Mom who was a tom-boy herself when she was growing up on The Farm in Idaho. This next bit about myself is from my St. Louis-born father. I've seen over 70 live plays. My parents are quite the odd couple, in a lot of ways.

5. I get so excited when I'm cleaning and I find a spot that has been missed and the dirtier it is the better. I report these findings to a politely interested Scott when he comes home in the evening. Sometimes, ok all of the time, I will show him the newly cleaned spot. Some of my more exciting finds have been vents, under the oven knobs and the lintel behind the door (where the hinges are).

6. I aspire to be Italian as anyone who has been to our house would know. I've spent many dollars to go there (4 times in all) and can't wait to go back. My devotion to all things Italian even goes as far as my having tributes to the flag in our kitchen, a framed business card of a gelateria in Florence, and a total of 25 Italy-related photographs on display in our apartment. It's really out of control. In fact only yesterday I had my new Visiting Teachers over and when one of them happened to mention that all her family comes from Italy. I think I actually leaned forward in my seat as I asked her where in Italy exactly and how long ago they immigrated. Sad isn't it?

Well that's me in a nutshell. Now I'm supposed to tag six more people but I don't know that many bloggers and some of them have already been tagged so I'll just tag a couple: Mindy and Suzanne.

P.S. Did everyone enjoy my Christmas spirit?

Let the Christmas Season Begin!

Scott recently put up a posting on my family's website about our tendency to let our Christmas Spirit get out of control. I don't know what he's talking about. For example, my dear sister Mindy sent this homemade outfit to us last week; she's like that. Despite it's overpowering cuteness I waited until after Thanksgiving (2 whole days) to put it on Eve. If that's not restraint I don't know what is.
Here's Scott's posting if your interested:
1. Do you have any lingering attachments to Tier 2 holidays (e.g. Thanksgiving, Halloween, Labor Day, your birthday, anniversaries, etc.) that you would be unwilling to sacrifice in order to "feel the spirit of Christmas" more fully throughout the year?
2. Do you have an aversion to being shaken awake at 3 am because "Oh no, we only have 128 more days to get ready!!!"
3. Name all three tenors and their country of origin.
4. Do you have faith that St. Nicholas is indeed the Father of Christmas?
5. What significant event occurs on December 6th each year?
6. Are you willing to cry like a baby in front of the entire extended family when they ask you, under the influence of candlelight and one too many glasses of sparkling cider, to share your gratitude for KLynn-1?
7a. Have you ever woken up to find your sneakers hidden in the toilet-2?
7b. Want to spend Easter with us?

1- Whoever lights the candle then has to listen as everyone else eulogizes them. KLynn is my mom by the way.
2- In our house the Easter Bunny puts candy in our shoes and then hides them (in the toilet for example). No link for this one.

A Good One of All of Us

Thanksgiving Weekend

Much to our surprise and relief, our first Thanksgiving dinner turned out quite well. My brother Rob and his girlfriend came up and we all had such a good time cooking, eating, going for a walk, exploring Pike's Place and playing Settlers (Scott is the current Lord of Catan). As for me, the best part was having my husband home for 4 straight days.

Independents vs. Chains

Scott and I have had a partiality towards independent shops and restaurants for some time now. The reasons for this are one, we like the environment of independents and find that it makes the whole experience substantially more enjoyable . Two, oftentimes the quality is superior, especially in service. And finally, we like supporting the little guy to be quite honest. Now that I've told you all this I must confess that money is still a deciding factor and that we make monthly trips to the local Targhetto for some things. However I am becoming more and more determined to buy less in order to be able to afford supporting the few independents still left. Well, that's my soapbox. I know that it is a personal choice as to where one spends one's money so don't feel like you will hurt my feelings if you disagree. Here are a few of our favorite independents: Farmer's Market, Elliott Bay Book Company, Belltown Pizza, Cookin' at Madison Park, Bottega Italiana, My Coffee House, and if we're in Utah, Mazza or Las Tarascas.

Rainbow Fishing

Eve and I were on a nice walk down by Lake Washington where I was taking some pictures (see photo of the week). As we were walking along the beach we passed a man with a fishing pole who brightly said "beautiful day isn't it!?" "Um, yeah" I responded. It was actually quite gloomy and shortly thereafter started to rain. Anyway, the man went out on the dock and started fishing so I thought I would snap some photos. After a couple of shots he saw me and I asked if it was alright. He said it was but to wait. At this point he took off his orange puffy vest to reveal a much worn rainbow colored vest - 1. You've got to love Seattle.

1 - the rainbow is a self-adopted symbol of the gay community. There is "Double Rainbow" ice cream at our local grocery store with a subtitle of "San Fransisco's Official Ice Cream."

Nice Ducks

One day last week Eve and I were walking through the Arboretum when we decided that it was time for Eve to have her first experience of feeding ducks. All we had was Cheerios but the ducks were all over it. So I plopped Eve down in the mud and started throwing Cheerios at her while holding my camera ready. Poor Eve.

Eve Shares with the Ducks

The ducks ate all my Cheerios

In the Arboretum

Grandma, Rebekah & Eve

Ode to my Mother

Last week my Mom was here visiting and I was reminded yet again of what great parents I have. Scott and I were determined to make this trip as pleasant and comfortable for my Mother as possible. We tried to be prepared by having an air mattress all ready to go and some of my Mom's preferred snacks. Feeble efforts compared to what she ended up doing for us. I don't think I've ever met such a giving person in my life. She insisted on spoiling us even though she was our guest. For example, on Thursday she stayed home with Eve and had some store-bought soup while Scott and I were able do go out for dinner. You must realize that this was the first time we've ever left Eve so needless to say she wasn't her usual happy self.

The highlights of the week were simple enough but being with my Mom made them so much fun! In chronological order, we sat on a bench on the beach of Lake Washington and watched the ducks, explored Elliott Bay Book Co., took a ferry to Bainbridge Island and had the best hot cider ever, went Pike's Place Market, got lost in the shopping district, took a long walk through the Arboretum and finished off the trip with the most delicious pumpkin crepe! Thank you Mom for a wonderful week!

Penicillin

When we first moved to Seattle someone told us that you can tell a true Seattlite by the moss growing on the north side of their head. We laughed. This evening Scott went to put on his warm fuzzy slippers and noticed that they were fuzzy yes but a little damp. Upon further investigation it seems that our closet has become a petri dish. To date we've had three casualties (already in the dumpster) and more than ten wounded (see photo).

Our Little Tree Hugger

When we moved to Seattle Eve was only a few months old and therefore it is no surprise that she is partial to the Seattle environmental-way of thinking. As far as we can tell she is leaning towards the Fruitarian approach (eating plants that die of their own accord). Her favorite, as you can tell, is fallen leaves.

Sometimes I Eat the Leaves

Reaching for Leaves

I Love Leaves!

A Farmer's Market

For those of us who miss our moms’ gardens and aspire to have our own spot of Earth one day.

Saturday morning is Market time at the Neuner’s. After breakfast we don our hats and jackets and set off for the University District. Now those of you familiar with Farmer’s Markets will know that there are cheaper places to buy one’s produce. We know this too. However we’ve realized that, for us, it is worth the extra money for the few things we do buy not only for the superior quality (bugs and dirt with almost every purchase!) but primarily for the experience.
First of all, there are the vendors. One man is using a pocket knife to whittle bite-sized pieces of fruit in his hand which he then holds out for people to try as he chats with his customers about what varieties he carries and proudly confirms that everything he sells is certified organic. At another stand I over hear the owner explaining which breed of chickens their eggs come from.
You can tell some vendors are hired by bigger farms. These stands have white moving vans to bring their produce in and as many as 5 people working. And then there are stands like the one owned by the Asian dad who sells a few greens, carrots and baby bok choy (any bunch for $1.50). His help consists of his 6 year-old daughter and 4 year-old son who politely and silently collect the money and put it in a tin box.
Our fellow shoppers include the typical Seattlite: thin middle-aged couples dressed in their Wellies with soiled canvas bags slung over their shoulders bulging with fresh organic produce with not a plastic bag in sight. Then there are the casual sight-seeing shoppers dressed in designer jackets out walking their sweater-clad dogs who leave with a bouquet of flowers. We’re somewhere in between. I must admit that we do taste things we never intend to buy (the cheese stand is a favorite) and maybe it’s guilt over this that has caused us to buy our broccoli and lettuce from the Market in addition to the tomatoes.
One week I made the mistake of buying tomatoes from a second, or perhaps third, -hand fruit stand aptly named The Rising Sun.. They looked alright: big red beef steaks and they were half the price as the seconds at the Market. Well let’s just say that I haven’t made that mistake again. Come to find out they were only posing as tomatoes. We still haven’t figured out what they were but who cares, we have Market tomatoes.
So what marks a real tomato from an imposter? I’m trying to be a more positive person so I will just talk about the real tomatoes and leave it at that. A tomato needs to be fist of all soft without being mealy. This is of utmost importance. Then the taste must be strong and juicy with a tang to it. If you don’t know what I’m talking about try a Green Zebra sometime as I believe they are the best example of a tomato’s potential.
There is something very fulfilling about buying produce that isn’t shiny with wax from people selling out of the back of their pick-up truck. We love the fact that we recognize people and know which stands have the best broccoli and which ones have hot cider that is worth paying for on extra chilly mornings. Yes it is more expensive but come rain or shine (and it’s more rain than shine) we will be at the Farmers’ Market Saturday morning.

Rebekah Neuner

Let there be blog...

I feel as though I've just walked into a tremendous darkened warehouse. Fumbling for the light switch I'm anxious for some sound just to break the eerie quiet. Silently, Rebekah slides up behind me and says in a husky voice, "That's no space station..." Accustomed as I am to her quoting of random movie lines I politely respond, "Yes sweetheart, that's right, it's not a space station. It's a tremendous darkened warehouse, which metaphorically represents our new blog." "Yes, it's our density," she says, "I mean, our destiny."

And so, due to popular demand, we are now launching ourselves full throttle onto the internet superhighway. Please don't boo us off the stage.