Double Dog Dare You

Back on the playground as a mom, I sometimes feel that not much has changed. The kids are running around, flocking to whatever looks interesting, and doing what they see the other kids do. Eventually they'll get older and while they might not immediately do what the other kids do, they will be urged along and dared to do the same or even greater fits of daring. But what I didn't expect is that to some degree, the mothers are still repeating the same pattern themselves. We talk; we chat; we sidle over to the group that seems to be having the most interesting conversation. We find out who is eating what, buying what where, and doing what to counter some behaviour - then we go out and do the same. We make suggestions, receive suggestions and find ourselves under motherly peer-pressure to perform. I double dog dare you.

One mother always come to the playground with her crocheting. She has crocheted three sunbonnets and when last I saw her she was halfway through a child's dress. She also manages to make jewelry. (I wish I could manage to have the dishes washed each night). She is amazing. I mentioned to her that I also crochet and soon found myself in possession of multiple crochet patterns, a book of crochet stitches, and links to an on-line crochet forum.

Now, I do know how to crochet - but I haven't been truly taught. My Aunt Helene taught me how to crochet a basic rag rug and a loopy doily. She taught me without the use of terms or books and the only term I knew was a Chain stitch. Fifteen years later, I made friends with various grannies in Croatia and they made doilies and tablecloths and all sorts of lovely, lovely stuff. They resurrected my past learning and taught me to look at a doily and make a copy. That winter, I spent lots of time huddled under a blanket making little doily copies. Finally, I attempted my first pattern. The pattern was in German. The women spoke Croatian. We looked at the signs and symbols and I managed to get far enough to ask them what to do when I hit a hard spot. I left Croatia in 2005 and in 2008 I finally finished that 10x10 doily. I've since made three baby blankets, 1 rag rug, and a pair of mary jane baby booties. I still can't read a pattern and I still don't know the English, German, or Croatian terms. Without YouTube, I would be lost. Now, I suddenly have a pile of Russian patterns. It's like handing a sheet of music to someone who can only play by ear.

I made some copies of the crochet book patterns and dutifully looked at the websites and magazines. When I returned the book, I told her I made copies and then wondered to myself why?, when will I find time to do it? Most days I feel over booked with Saphira, ministry secretarial duties, church, house, Seminary accounting, editing, the baby book I'm trying to put together, and the long overdue book I'm trying to get together for our nieces and nephews. Still, a few days later, walking home with Saphira I suddenly remembered a little skirt that some friends at church gave to Saphira and which has only been worn once for lack of a shirt that coordinates. I was walking past the market and suddenly charged into it and headed straight to the yarn stall. How many skeins do I need to make a shirt, I asked? And soon found myself in possession of 200 grams of fine cotton yarn and no idea what I was doing.

Too many days of internet research later and this is my goal. We'll soon see if I manage to finish something before winter, before she grows out of it, or how much mischief accepting a double dog dare will get me into.

Made in China

I don't know how it works in America, esp in the cities - but here the mothers with the children congregate in a park or a playground and let the children play. Sometime there can be as many as 15 toddlers with their parents, strollers, bicycles,and toys in toy running here and there at the accustomed meeting point.

At this age, the children do not play together. They are more interested in what toys the other children brings and normally the children will run up to the newcomer's stroller and peer into the basket, the more badly behaved ones pulling the toys out themselves. The mantras of the mother's include: Don't touch someone else's stroller, don't take things, and nelza - which basically means don't by any means - or a very strong no.

You listen as the mothers yell at their children and you learn the kids', but not the mothers', names. You begin to talk to the mothers who are there often and the ones you like you may learn their names and start arranging to meet. The mother's watch their children, chat, talk on the cell phone, and play interference when needed.

And the children play, bouncing from toy to toy as the fancy strikes them. Balls, strollers, musical animals you pull on a string, clack-clack toys, shape sorter toys, shovels, buckets, trucks, toy phones- an entire toy shop distributed between the stroller baskets and strewn beneath the trees. Most of the toys cheap (balls 50 cents, stroller $5, toy phone $1.25), some of them broken (but the kids don't care), and all of them from China. Many of the toys are the same, because if a parent sees that their child likes something the chances are that they will buy it for their child (it is slightly embarrassing if your child is always after anther child's toy)- but all the same they prefer to play with the other children's toys over their own - until their own toy has been claimed by another child. The best thing about the toys is that they cheap - not all toys - just the ones you see on the street. It doesn't matter if it gets lost or broken or picked up by another kid. One mother says she loves the 10 uah toys because she can buy them and feel like she is getting something for her child and not feel guilty about the money - though the money does eventually add up. And aside from the bicycles - it is often the cheapest toys that the children like most. Plastic shovels, for instance, are wildly popular. Not to dig with necessarily - but just to walk around with.

It is fascinating to watch, and rather enjoyable to be a part of, especially if your child is well fed and rested that day. You learn the latest child rearing gossip - the cheapest diapers, the foods the other children are eating, the rumor that raw carrots will prevent cavities. I'm quite enjoying it.

Photos from the 4th

Things that go boom

Fireworks!

My family didn't do fireworks growing up. My dad said it was burning up money. One year I set off fireworks with friends in Prescott, another year in Waitsburg, one year in Kansas at a family reunion, and one year a renter had left some sparklers and a few other things behind and so we lit them in the road and made some gun powder trails with some gunpowder my dad had laying around. That was it. The other years, we either drove around and looked at everyone else's fireworks or went into Walla Walla and spent the day at my aunts and then went to watch the firework show at Pioneer Park.

Yesterday, we bought fireworks. Despite Alister's protest that we would only celebrate November 5th, some friends invited us for a picnic and that was that. There is a firework stand by our house and I've been dying to buy fireworks since I first saw it 4 years ago. So I conferred with our hosts, took up a collection, and bought fireworks. 3 fountains, a pack of flowers, a pack of bugs, 3 salutes, 4 rockets, 2 roman candles. You don't really know what you're getting when you haven't really done fireworks yourself and haven't quite mastered all the explosive vocabulary connected to them. But the seller assured me that it would be pretty. I forgot to ask if it would be loud.

The setting, a residential district in Kiev - is not the normal location for fireworks, and when you are setting them off when no one else is - you are very conscious that they are very, very loud. Especially the bugs - we decided not to set any more of them off after the boom activated a couple of car alarms. And so began a series of fortunately harmless mishaps - One rocket refused to launch - so we had a ground level bloom erupt at our feet. Another rocket flew, but the stick landed on a neighbor's roof. The roman candle tipped over, and sent us all running for cover. After the roman candle, we decided it was best to leave the rest of the fireworks for the family to set off in a field another day. I also concluded that fireworks are most fun for the children who want to light them and that the rest of the time, we are better off going to a show. Alister concluded that my dad was closest to the truth - they just burn up money - and though the fountains, and the 26 salute box were lovely and presented no mishap - I think we've both gotten our fill of fireworks for a long time.

Saphira by the way did fantastic - a bit startled with the boom bug - but she was nestled away in the Ergo and was more sleepy than scared for the rest of the fireworks. We did get her to say oooooh along with us as the fountains burned - but the rest was a bit much though, as I said before, she did not cry.

I don't know what Alister did with the camera, but once I find it I'll post some pictures too.

Pea pods and math problems

How I wish I had paid more attention in math class!

Fresh peas are in the market now and I bought roughly 210 grams. 140 grams were pods and 70 grams were peas. I paid 20 uah per kilo which I think means the actual peas cost 33 uah per kilo. I can buy frozen peas (usually) in bulk for 24 uah a kilo - which, if my math is correct - means my time and money are better spent in the frozen food section of the grocery store (not to mention the temperature there is nicer now too!!)

Anyone want to proof the math?

Strawberries are about to reach their peak - twice the price over last year but cherries are actually CHEAPER than strawberries - though still more than last year. Don't know what i'll attempt to make or can this year - It is so hot and the days are very, very short with Saphira waking up so early. (I know the sentence doesn't sound logical - but the reality of my days prove it - I think the coffee factor - I don't start waking up until my second cup of coffee has something to do with it.)

A Broken Alarm clock

Our alarm clock is broken. For the last few weeks, we have been slowly and steadily been awoken by its blast earlier and earlier. Currently we are holding at 5:30. We would love to reset it, but somehow the Saphira clock has no manual. Last night Alister and I resigned ourselves to a no-win situation and went to bed at 9:30. Still bleary eyed, but more rested than the past few days, we all hit the ground running.

The day was lovely - sunny AND cool. And there are fresh strawberries coming into the market and the price has hit the frozen strawberry mark so I feel justified buying them. I bought them from a babushka. They were not the prettiest strawberries at the market, but they were garden grown and it is always nice to help a babushka who is probably living on a $120 a month pension.

They were amazing. I don't know if it was because they were the first fresh strawberries of the season, because they were garden grown, or what, but even the greenish ones were so incredibly sweet.

We also had a fantastic day at the play park. And the park is getting a face-lift. And I have 3 phone numbers, and two more on the back burner. I even have a "little black book" with the mothers' names and children's names and approximate b-days. but more on all this another time.

Am still pretty tired from this alarm clock battle, but today was a fantastic day all the same.

Accidental Cottage Cheese

I was all set to make Yogurt today but ended up with Cottage Cheese. The culprit was the "fresh" milk I bought in the store. Normally, we buy the long life milk and have it delivered once a month or so with our other stock up on grocery order. Delivery is free if you order about $80 so we can stock up on non-perishables. While this is very convenient - esp as I don't have to carry gallons of milk and a baby around every day - LongLife milk is a bit more expensive, so when I make yogurt I buy it in the "fresh" bags in the grocery store. This milk isn't exactly fresh, it has been processed somehow, but you never know how long it will actually stay good - another reason why we buy the long life as we know it will be good when we open it and will last a day or two in the fridge.

Anyway, I pured my 1.5kilos of milk onto the stove to bring to 200F, tried a spoon, noted it was a tad "off" but thought the boiling would kill anything in it and maybe add to the yogurt flavor process.

While it did kill everything, I will have to try again at yogurt tomorrow, what I got instead was white clumps in yellow water. A quick Internet search (what did they do before google???) confirmed this was cottage cheese, and was edible. And its tasty. The 1.5 kilos of milk produced only 225 grams of cottage cheese or what some may call closer to ricotta as it not the same rubbery curds we get in the states -and 1 liter of whey.

As Whey is incredibly healthy, I'm looking into what to do with it now - but in the meantime, if life gives you sour milk, make cottage cheese :-)