All In A Good Day's Play: Scenes From The Day.

The joys never end when twenty little fingers and twenty little toes reside under one little roof. Some days are more productive than others--those that aren't, are all-day in your pajamas kind of days and those that are, are get out of bed and seize the day kind of days. Today was a pleasant hybrid of both--little peaks of productivity followed by silly, giggly valleys of lolly and gagging.

Several clothes changes and spinning tops later, we made it to sunset where rest and another day awaits us.

She & Him.

Little, Fern Adele, 4 months old.

Noah Finn, 2 3/4 years old.

How fast the days go, how quickly these two little people grow.

All For Fall.

Pumpkins before roasting, fallen maple leaves, freshly jarred homemade roasted pepper salsa.

Pinecone & sunflower butter bird-feeder that Noey and I made one afternoon.

Lentil soup with chicken and kale, wholewheat sunflower buns and homemade apple butter.


Powwow & Harvest Fest at the Ontario Museum of Archeology.

Fall is upon us. Real fall. The kind of fall that nibbles the tip of your nose with the quick flitting breeze that rustles leaves from their branch perch and sends squirrels into a nut hiding frenzy. It's been overcast, cool and rainy--the kind of autumn that I haven't felt for over a decade. I must be honest, it's nice--fall always was my favorite time of year. It never did feel quite right putting mums on the stoop in Los Angeles' 70 degree temperatures.

So, in light of the season, we pulled out our fuzzy sweaters and rain boots and dove right in. Decorative gourds fill a basket on the coffee table, leaves are raked into big puffy nests for jumping fests, pumpkins continually roast in the oven while loaves of hearty, seedy bread rise under warm towels on the kitchen counter. We've crafted pine cone bird feeders and leaf rubbings and stewed and jarred homemade apple butter, peach chutney, ketchup and roasted pepper salsa for the winter--all fresh from either the farmer's market or a neighbor's garden.

Yes, both the joys and bounties of fall are plenty. With Dean's birthday mid-week and Canadian Thanksgiving just around the bend, I am sure that there will only be more of them to follow.

Happy October and Happy Fall to All!

WWW.DaddyDean.

So, Dean's finally jiggy with the new millennium. Late, but better late than never (i.e. his Canadian schedule has afforded him time that his Cali one never did). He's got himself a website, a blog, as such. For work, of course. Pass it on: http://deanalannelson.blogspot.com/

O'Canada: Lamentations On Life In London.

Don't be blue little Canuck, it'll get better, eh?

Even if 8 months of winter are upon us.

Okay.

I have made a deal with myself to find the beauty in our everyday, here, in London, Ontario.

The truth is--and any local who reads this may be more than a little upset at my admission of this--I don't like London. I haven't written much to this fact on this blog. I wanted to give spring and summer a chance before I aired my dirty laundry about the place. But the real truth of the matter is, I'm not a fan and I am not sure that I will ever be. What can I say, eight months of winter just doesn't tickle my fancy.

Honestly, any place following in the wake of a decade's living in Southern California and Malibu to boot, truly has tough competition--let's be fair. It's hard to move an inch without oozing with inspiration over everything in eye shot--turquoise seafoam, surf urchin, glistening sea rock, desert-flowered cliffs, sea lions and dolphins dancing with bronzed surfers, golden pacific sunsets, trannies on unicycles--eye candy is plentiful. It wasn't hard to find something unarguably beautiful everyday.

Aside from the aesthetics, London just hasn't opened up for me in the ways that L.A. and its closest shores had for me as a new arrival. And as every season passes too drastically here (summer too hot, spring too rainy, and fall too short) on to the one that lasts the longest--winter--more than half of the year long--I yearn for the hum drum melancholy of Southern California's perpetual spring--where the sun shines everyday and flowers are always in bloom. Not everyone may be a fan--I get that. But I was smitten with the place and it's memory in my fond heart only goldens as the distance and time between us widens. Will we go back? We are definitely planning on it. But in the meantime, to make the most of this Californian hiatus, I must stop longing for what was and embrace what is.

Therefore, going forward, I'll try as I might to make London not just a place of residence, but a place that I enjoy living. I must. For we will be homesteading here yet another few years, I fear. So, I vow at this moment to make a conscience, concerted effort to look only ahead--never back--and find the beauty in our everyday, even here, in London, Ontario. It will just take a little work and a sharp eye. But I am finally willing to put in the time. Let's see what I can find.

The Summer That Was: Babies, Roadtrips & Poutine.

Home Sweet Home.

One nervous meltdown, four toll booths, one rain-drenched car interior (don't ask), and 2,000+ miles of roadway later, w e a r e h o m e and I am woefully late blogging about it. We've been home for several weeks now, but getting back into the swing of things has taken longer than I anticipated.

For starters, we had our dear friend, Gabe (of the band, bikos--check them out here and here!), out for a visit from Los Angeles. Every time friends visit us from the sunny southwest, I ache for it's golden shores even more--I m i s s home. His visit passed with a blur (time flies when you're having fun!) and ended with heaps of potine--a Canadian, or should I say, a Montreal-ian delicacy, that Dean and I had been putting off trying until that perfect moment--and so, with Gabe, on a rainy and chilly Sunday evening it was to be tried for the first time. I hate to say it, but it was sinfully delicious. Who could resist fries topped with cheese curd, gravy and any other heart clogging topping one could dream of?

Gabe & Noah--boys, being boys.

But now that summer has halted abruptly into 50 and 60 degree temperatures this week, I must reflect back on the summer that was . . .

Summer 2011 brought with it sweltering heat, drenching humidity, a new baby girl and a three-week road trip from Canada to North Carolina and back. Are we crazy? Perhaps. Nuts even? I am sure of it. If not before this trip, than certainly after. Traveling with a nearly 3-year old toddler and a nearly 3-month old baby was harrowing, confusing, exhausting, hilarious and downright completely insane.

Here was our harrowing road trip route: Niagara Falls, Baltimore, Shenandoah Valley in Virginia, Raleigh, Greenville, Emerald Isle and Fayetteville in North Carolina, D.C., West Virginia, Pennsylvania, upstate New York--and a few more little stops in between. We went to pools, beaches, mountains, museums, a baseball game (which we sadly do not have any pictures of) and visited more family in more places than you can shake a stick at (pictures of the roadtrip warriors here).

All-in-all it was a fantastic trip--a vacation, not so much. But that kind of goes without saying when traveling with kids. The drive from Carolina to Canada was actually somewhat pleasurable. We had finally mastered the stop and go rhythm needed for naps, playtime and drive times to coincide happily. Therefore, you may have noticed that there are many more picture collages on the back side of the vacation travels for just that reason. On the front side there are very few--and the reason is simple--it was worth forgetting.

Since we've been back, I've been one crafting mama. Thanks to the incredible Lotta Jansdotter simple sewing book for babies and toddlers given as a gift from my sweet friend Cyndy, I've been one bib, drool kerchief and giraffe rattle making lady! And, so much so that I have been derelict on my task of getting to work on Halloween costumes.

Fernie Drool Kercheifs.

With our Parent & Child Program at Waldorf resuming and Dean returning to a teaching schedule this week, I hope to also gain a bit of normalcy in my routine with the kids. Since Dean has had only a partial schedule since the birth of Fern in May, this will be my first stint entirely on my own with the two maniacs. How I will fare is yet to be seen. Especially with winter just around the bend. Winter, in London, Ontario, uugghh, uugghh, uugghh.

In the meantime, we'll harvest our pole beans and frolic outdoors as long as Father Fall permits!

Summer Roadtrip 2011: From Canada To The Carolinas, A Pictorial Tour.

Niagara Falls, Canadian side & Baltimore, Maryland with the Neilson's

Afton, Virgina in the Shenandoah Valley with The Nelson's

Raleigh, North Carolina with Omie and Poppop

Kidscape Kid's Museum in Raleigh, North Carolina

Fernie x 3

Fayetteville, North Carolina with Grand Omie and Grand Papa Jim

Blue Fins

Fayetteville, North Carolina with Granny and Great Grandpa Surette

Museum of Natural History in Raleigh, North Carolina

Crowder Park, Apex, North Carolina with cousins

Emerald Isle, North Carolina with Grandma and Grandpa Nelson & cousins

Beachy Fern

Washington, D.C.--Smithsonian Museum & Washington Monument

Washington, D.C.--Smithsonian Museum & The Capital Building

Bedford, Pennsylvania

Allegany, New York

Allegany, New York

Allegany, New York

On the road

Canadian Cuties.

Love Squared.

Fern (9 weeks).

Play.

Summertime Splendor.

Sweet Like Sunshine.

House On (Two) Kids: Before And After.

Before

Before

After--note the sleeping baby on far left of couch with an unfolded shirt as a blanket

Though I have never seen one, I am guessing that a brain on crack must look an awful lot like a house on kids.

Nearly 8 weeks into parenting two spells disaster for our homestead. Our cloth diaper pail overflow'eth with delightful poos near the basement door, unfolded laundry creates soft crinkled mountains on all available surfaces that aren't the floor, the dining room table sits littered with the remnants of past meals (inhaled, mind you, not eaten)--I could continue room-by-room in this fashion--spelling out the chaos that has been created and housework that has been neglected over the last two months--but I won't. And I will certainly spare you both details and a pictorial tour of the bathrooms.

I'll simply admit that a maid, or a re-visit from Omie, would be much appreciated right about now. Mom, if you're reading this (and not running in the opposite direction) . . . hint, hint, hint.

There Was An Old Lady . . .

. . . who lived in a (Canadian) shoe.

She had so many children she didn't know what to do (okay, only two, but do two incredibly needy cats count?).
The pictures look cheery, but I feel oh-so-weary.
Oh, mothering two, both the hours and sanity are few.
My brain is mashed potatoes and the house is upside down so now I am deliriously bed-ward bound.