Blackberry Pickers

Photo by Ashley Thalman

How do you sop up the last dregs of summer? Well we found a pretty good option to soak in more of that summer lovin before fall overtakes us. Yesterday the boy and I escaped our urban spoon and retreated to the most beautiful, self-pick farmland for a lovely morning with new friends. Driving out to the farm I was already smitten. It was so beautiful sitting up on the western hillside and looking out over Utah County. There were acres and acres of orchard, vineyard, and delicious berry bushes. Every ranch house I passed I thought, "I want to live here, I want to pull up my roots and build a house just like that right in this very place."

We arrived at the farm and were introduced to several stunning ladies and their cutie kids. Then we got right to it and started stripping the bushes of their berries. Littleman never quite got the concept of filling his bucket. Instead I would put a handful in his pail and he would immediately start shoveling them in his mouth. Then, when my bucket was getting full he insisted we switch. So I would take his newly emptied bucket and he would start snitching the blackberries out of mine. The process continued for about an hour us rotating buckets and fingers staining black in berry juice.

After an hour of fruitful labor we settled onto the blankets and under the sparse shade for a picnic. We chatted up new friends and played with little mates. We ate, and ate, and ate. It was delicious the food, the conversation, and of course the blackberries. The only thing ushering us to hurry was the hot sun. Otherwise we would have stayed on that hillside farm for the rest of our days. And to think, all this from a sweet instagram invitation! Loved it. So a special thanks to Ashley Thalman, for the invite and the exquisite photos. 

     

Photo by Ashley Thalman

     

Photo by Ashley Thalman

As the Sun Sets on Summer

The week that school starts always strikes a few of my tender heartstrings. All the anxiety and excitement in the air, all the fresh notebooks lining the shopping aisles, all the first-day-of-school pics popping up all over my instagram feed. Insert a heart ripping sound right here, shredding it right down the middle with a zigzag break. I love where I am right now with my hubby, my little boy, my mommy job, and my new prospects in the writing field. It's exciting and thrilling all on its own, but the zing feeling just isn't quite the same as those first day of school zing feelings. 

Along with all the happy and thrilling zings there also comes a bit of a sinking feeling that hitches on to the beginning of school. This is it, this is the end of summer. No more days at the water park, no more vacations, and no more shaved ice. How can this be? How can such a beautiful time of warm weather and suntanned skin come to an end? I already miss it, which is weird because I am not going anywhere. My life changes very little from summer to autumn. Yet, somehow I am still affected. 

The end of dear summer means yet another season has gone by: my boy is growing bigger, my time with him is growing shorter, he is learning so much, relying on me less and less, and we are closer than ever to the day he will be starting off on his first day of school. No! Even in my head that scene just shreds the heart, again! 

Another sunset of summer comes to a close. I hold my boy close and sigh. Let the red pour over us and warm our skin yet one more time and pray that summer never leaves our face. 

Feeding the Ducklings

In our last efforts to HAGS Littleman and I took a quick trip to Utah Lake on a hot afternoon to cool off and feed the ducks. Superman was going to be getting home late and we didn't have the car, so our options were fairly limited. I buckled him in the bike trailer and off we went. The lake is only about a mile from our house. Seemed like one of our only choices really.

It is close, convenient, and covered in icky sludge which is why we don't visit all that often. I wish the Provo dock of Utah Lake had a sandy beach instead of mucky mud. So no, there was very little hope for a sandcastle.The tepid water did little to cool us down, but the ducks were all that little boy needed to be happy. They came swimming right over, practically begging for those Cheetos. He obliged, happily quacking and squawking along and calling them back if they tried to swim off. He also was smitten with all of the boats launching right close to us. Also, as an added bonus, we live extra close to the airport meaning about every fifteen minutes a plane flew directly overhead. Basically boy heaven. 

Is Summer Ending?

It is so funny, but lately I keep clinging to this feeling that Summer is almost over. I mean really, we have a whole month of it left--and more for me because I don't exactly have a job or school to go back to. Yet, there it is, this feeling nagging in the back of my brain reminding me that all the warm weather and fun times will come to an end. It is pestering me, and bringing me down. 

I have yet to have any really spectacular summer milestones. We haven't gone on vacation. We haven't done any home improvement projects. We haven't gone hiking. We have gone to the pool and the lake, but somehow this isn't felling like enough. So what is the hold up? Why does this summer feel so different to me?

I think I have it. First, his summer my hubby has been trying to promote at his job, but also has been working loads of overtime. This means there are fewer and fewer weekend getaway options for us. Which has been fine for the most part. I love him and know he is working so hard to take care of this little family. But it also means a little bit more down time than I am used to. Second, I thought I was going to be pregnant this summer and I am not. It is a bummer and definitely clouding my sunny days. I try and ignore those thoughts, push them aside, but they are always lingering and telling me all the would-have-beens. Third, my motivation is shot! Seriously it takes all my time and energy keeping our house organized through the day to day. The last thing I want to take on is painting a room or building a new piece of furniture. It would be nice, but it is so not necessary. 

So, here we are, one month left of summer and I think we have some big plans in the making. We are taking a huge summer retreat with family to Bear Lake. It is a tradition reserved for the last days of summer and I find myself looking forward to it very much. Also, though Superman is working on the day of our Anniversary, he has the entire next week off. Huzzah! So we might be making another vacation trip then. If things work out this is going to be the greatest last month of summer ever! 

Until then, cheers to Seven Peaks.

A Little Pond for my Little Puddle Jumper

We were seeking adventure. We were seeking reprieve from the heat. We were seeking something new. Well, we found it, all of it, at a little pond. 

G.G. had a coworker tell her about this place--a little oasis in a little hidden part of a town. It had a sandy beach and cool water. It wasn't usually very crowded. It was made for fishing and swimming and plain ole fun in the sun. So we went on a little adventure to go and find it. Turns out this coworker was right and this little pond was exactly what we were looking for. 

The water though, it was cold. It was colder than I would have liked, even on a hot day. Also, sadly the sand was something K.B. was not having any part of. He hated it on his toes. I get it, it was a little more gritty than the sandy beaches of Bear Lake, but still it was a bit of a surprise. I would try to put his little self down and he would stick is legs straight out at a 90 degree angle. "No, no, no," he would say with concern, keeping his precious pigs far, far away from that treacherous sand. So I put on his water-socks and things went a little better. 

We swam around, watched the kids, and played with the sand. I guess sandy fingers was a completely different matter. Fingers=OK Toes=NO I got it! Then we went for lunch at a Thai place we love and strolled around looking at bike shops. We are really into bikes these days, this little family of mine. Anyways, while looking at a bike shop I was stung twice by a nasty hornet. Not a fan! It was red hot, itchy, and felt like the worst of rug burns. I think the wasp was on K.B. at first, and when I took him from G.G. it got trapped by my arm and stung me. OUCH! But thankfully my baby was left unscathed. I'd take a stinger for him any day people. But GAH! We had to put some ice on it and I had this itchy, swollen, red patch of skin for three days. 

The pond was great. The company was great. The Thia was great. The wasp sting, well not so much.

     

Water Babies

When it comes to pre-naptime activities I am all for doing anything that involves the kiddie pool and running wild around the back yard. Seriously, naptime is starting to get more and more difficult as summer days pass by. We cannot seem, no matter how hard I beg and plead and cry, to get ourselves back on any type of schedule. 

We are out and about with errands. We dash out on an adventure with G.G. We need to go and grab something for lunch. Then, while we are out, things take longer and longer and naptime is shrunken down to a little catnap in the car seat. We get home and the boy is simply too rested from his little nap, but at the same time too tired to go back down again later in the afternoon. Luckily I have developed the perfect equation of fun and sun to wear us out just enough to get in a long afternoon nap. We play! 

From 2-4 pm we play, and play, and play. We are the lost boys. We are Tom and Huck. We are Oliver and Dodger. We scamper and run. We spray the mutt. We get dirty, we get sweaty, and we make mud pies. Over the last few weeks I have noticed our skin getting darker, our hair getting lighter, and our summertime naps getting longer. Yes, we pretty much do the same old thing every afternoon. Mommy fills the kiddie pool. Mommy puts the bath toys in the kiddie pool. K.B. gets in his trunks. K.B. tugs on his hat. Out the door we go. That is all we need to wear us out.

However, despite the repetitive nature of this pre-nap ritual, it is still new and fresh every time we step out into the back yard. It is fun to see this kid become more and more accepting of water splashing on his hair and face. It is elating to watch him scamper around, bonding with the dog and ceaselessly teasing her. It is especially exciting when Superman can join us. 

Then, when we are all funned out, we go inside to dry off and snuggle on the couch. Within two minutes the boy's head is lolling to one side and his binky is barely hanging from his slackened lips. It is heaven; blissful, summertime exhaustion. 

     

Retreat from the Heat

My aunt bought a kayak. Yes, let me repeat, my aunt bought a kayak; a two person, beautiful yellow, sea kayak. It was delivered to her door in the middle of the week in a giant box full of bubble rap and trimmings. For her and my sister it was basically Christmas in July. It pretty much takes up the entirety of her living room AND it is pretty much the coolest, bestest thing I have ever seen. 

So, we decided to dedicate this weekend to a maiden voyage. Three women and two boys headed out to the lake, to retreat from the heat, and have some plain old summertime fun with a bright yellow, brand new kayak. Honestly, I cant get enough of that word: kayak, kayak, KAYAK!!! The shore was completely rocky. The sun was burning hot. It had the makings of a complete disaster at some points, but we made it work and we had the best of times together. 

The bright yellow kayak still has not been christened, but we did smash the proverbial wine bottle against the bow and shoved off at Deer Creek. The water was cool, almost too cool, but it was a reprieve. There was no sinking or swabbing, but there was one very delicious pirate, one you might even recognize. We swam, we splashed, we ate a picnic lunch, and we crashed out on the drive home. Spectacular first voyage of our dear new kayak friend. 

I have zero experience with kayaks, and I must say, this thing is awesome. I went out in it once, with my brother, and we paddled until our arms wanted to fall off, which wasn't that far considering our inexperienced muscles, but don't tell. It was beautiful, and easy, and oh so much fun for us. In my opinion the kayak is a bit more stable than the canoe, a bit easier to maneuver, and a whole lot easier to spot from shore. Bright yellow kayak for the win!

     



     

The Stories of a Little Pirate King

We spent the weekend at GG and Bapa's house because our daddy was working a lot. For this Littleman that means a little swimming, a lot of playing Hotwheels, and plenty of all around fun and adventure. We love visiting family and spending as much time outside as we possibly can. This little pirate was particularly happy to run around the backyard with nothing but his shorts and a bandanna on. He kicked, and kicked, and kicked the soccer ball around the yard. He splashed and squirted while playing in the pool. His little eyes were just full of light the entire weekend.

Watching him grow up so much breaks little pieces of my heart. Each time he learns a new word or goes down the stairs standing up I lose a little bit of my baby. Instead, standing in his place is the toddler--all sorts of grown up. When we tied the bandanna around this little Pirate King's head so he could swim and not burn his scalp, I saw it! It was the boy again. I have mentioned the boy a few times before, but basically it is when I look, expecting to see my 18 mo and instead find someone resembling more 3-4 yo. Gah! This Pirate was exactly that--a boy, full of adventures and trouble and fun. My 18 mo was gone, at least until the rag came off and he settled in my arms for his afternoon nap.

This kid even has stories he likes to tell. I mean, talk about grown up. He gets going on one of his tales and I am smitten with how much he remembers, comprehends, and connects. Utter awe every single time. There are three stories in particular have been on repeat this last little while.

The first one involves the traumatic death of a wasp that I swatted and stamped on in our family room. Littleman begins and swizzles his finger around in the air, says "bee" and "bzzzz" a few times between gibberish, and pretends to follow the flying wasp. Then he claps his hands together and points down to the ground describing the climactic death of the buzzing pest. He stomps his foot and them points outside, indicating the action I took to dispose of the body. 

His second favorite story to tell involves his lunch with GG, Lala, and Tio. They took him to Red Robin and let him watch a choo choo race round and round a track near the ceiling. Again he starts with the pointing up in the air and moving his hand around in the circle while joyously exclaiming "choo choo!" Then he takes a moment to mention the group at his table, naming them in succession. Then he says, "Where go?" while shrugging his precious little shoulders. This is when the track took our beloved choo choo into a tunnel and out of sight. Then the "choo choo" is back and the story starts over. It is like the song that never ends, but a million times cuter. 

The last story is one from our recent trip to the Orem Summerfest. Blakie was enjoying the snow cones and cotton candy in all of their sugary glory when he heard the blades of a chopper. He starts this story out trying to duplicate the sound of a helicopter, which is cute and comes out mostly like "brrrrm, brrrrrm, brrrrrm."  Then the finger is up and spinning round and round. "Tio" is also involved in this story because he held Blakie on his shoulders and ran him over to where the chopper landed and later when the chopper took off. To top it off, Nana and GG picked out a cute helicopter book at the Summerfest that has several pages and a little copter that follows a little track around each page. He loves it and whenever he finds it he begins his little helicopter tale. 

I know that all too soon the gestures and simple sounds he makes right now to tell his stories will fill in with words and even more understanding. I know, when that time comes, I am going to sorely miss these little, simple, inarticulate mumbles that I completely understand. I know, I will love them and love him so much. I know I will also be missing my baby boy. 

Oh Pirate King! You have my whole heart. Now tug up your britches and lets learn to swab the deck shall we?

       



     

A Summer Picnic of Sorts

Just before I left to go to camp I had several letters to write. I knew the task was going to take a least a couple of hours, but we had already been cooped up for most of the day. So instead of holding up inside for my letter writing task, Blakie and I took to the outdoors. I spread out our picnic blanket, collected a few strawberries from our front patch, and we enjoyed the beautiful, breezy afternoon. My notepad fluttered in the wind. My pen scribbled busily. Even K.B. wanted to compose a sweet, loving message all on his own. 

We don't have many summer days like that one--cool and refreshing. Usually things around our home get hot and sticky in a hurry. We want time at the pool and seek out shade everywhere we go. But not this day. This day things were perfectly lovely. It was cool enough to enjoy, and sunny enough to still be summer. And nothing beats fresh, I mean super fresh, strawberries.

How Does Your Garden Grow

This year my garden has been pretty much neglected. My parents came over, about a month ago when the weather was finally warm, and helped me get some yard work under control. We mowed, edged, pulled weeds, and worked on the garden. They pulled out the dead stuff and tilled in some compost. It was nice, and clean, and ready for planting. Then the weather took a turn for the worse. Things got too frigid for baby seeds and plants to feel friendly in that garden plot. So it sat there, and sat there, and yep,  sat there. All that fertile soil was just begging for a crop of weeds to take up residence and that is just what happened. 

However, not all was lost. In fact, I would consider it a huge win. Much of my spinach and lettuce from last year went to seed and those seeds actually sprouted up. I had a whole crop of spinach and lettuce scattered among the riff-raff. So, the other day, I hauled out my shovel, spade, and rubber froggy shoes. I got to work in my garden.

First I dug out as many large spinach and lettuce plants as I could while still preserving the roots. Then I pulled weeds and raked the plot level. Then I transplanted the sprouts in rows. I was so pleased with myself and my mad gardening skills; a regular Martha Stewart. The next day though, everything looked wilty, really wilty. Bah! I killed them all! But my hubby had faith in me and said everything would be fine in a few days. 

Fortunately with some water and cool nights the plants are slowly coming back to life. I have added tomatoes, cucumber, and spaghetti squash to the mix. It is all looking very organized and professional once more. All I need to do now is think of which herbs I want to plant and choose one more row of something. Something about digging my hands into that dark earth is really making it feel like summer. That and K.B. running into the sprinkler fully clothed. He was  sopped, I was muddy, and we were splendidly happy.