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It's one of those days when you wish that your house had a giant sunroof that could open and close like the ones in cars. Sitting in a rocking-like chair in the bedroom with the laptop on a little table in front of me and the window open, I can hear the happy cries of children as they call out to each other in their play. The sunshine is trickling in and the soft blue skies seem to wink at me. My husband has taken our three young nephews as well as my youngest brother out, and so I have the house to myself. Well, ourselves: Icewind and Keani, I think, are both sad that their rowdy playmates have gone, and relieved to have a couple of hours not getting picked up, tugged, or climbed on (in Icewind's case).
I have to say, it's been a wonderful visit thus far. The room where they stay was just painted and decorated, and now, of course, it looks like an explosion of clothes and toys. Through constant effort, we've managed to contain the 'disaster' to the one area, for the most part. But despite the mess, the fights (they are boys, and brothers, after all), the mysterious lack of 'ears' on the youngest when he is asked (and then told) to do something, the house is just so much fuller - and I mean this in the most wonderful (and not literal) way - when they are here.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Friday, March 5, 2010
What's in a Canvas?
I love painting. I love painting animals and people, flowers and trees. I love painting fantasy scenes, illustrations, or whimsical things like carousel horses. I hate painting walls.
I didn't learn this until about two years ago when we painted part of our house. The house is new, (or at least it was when we moved into it) but the paint the builder used is the kind that comes off onto the rag you're trying to wipe the wall clean with. Not a good thing under any circumstance, but add two dogs into the mix and you have a fairly bad situation.
It was the first time I'd painted walls in my life. Between the meticulous (and extremely boring, I thought) taping of edges and baseboards, plastic dropsheets everywhere and moving everything from the walls, I was already not a big fan before I even put roller to wall. Then there are the gobs of paint everywhere, seemingly no matter how careful we try to be. Spatters on the floor, on faces, arms, legs and feet. But the worse part was the actual painting itself. Hours of doing nothing but sweeping the roller up and down, side to side. And then aching for days afterwards, and having to move everything back.
But, like I said, it can't be helped. The horrible base paint must be covered, and so this last weekend, we rolled up our sleeves to start doing the rest of the house. It was the same scenario, except this time our little Keani kept trying to sneak in to investigate what we were up to, and then crying when we wouldn't let him in.
But I have to admit, when all's said and done, and despite the annoyance of everything...the end result was worth it.
I didn't learn this until about two years ago when we painted part of our house. The house is new, (or at least it was when we moved into it) but the paint the builder used is the kind that comes off onto the rag you're trying to wipe the wall clean with. Not a good thing under any circumstance, but add two dogs into the mix and you have a fairly bad situation.
It was the first time I'd painted walls in my life. Between the meticulous (and extremely boring, I thought) taping of edges and baseboards, plastic dropsheets everywhere and moving everything from the walls, I was already not a big fan before I even put roller to wall. Then there are the gobs of paint everywhere, seemingly no matter how careful we try to be. Spatters on the floor, on faces, arms, legs and feet. But the worse part was the actual painting itself. Hours of doing nothing but sweeping the roller up and down, side to side. And then aching for days afterwards, and having to move everything back.
But, like I said, it can't be helped. The horrible base paint must be covered, and so this last weekend, we rolled up our sleeves to start doing the rest of the house. It was the same scenario, except this time our little Keani kept trying to sneak in to investigate what we were up to, and then crying when we wouldn't let him in.
But I have to admit, when all's said and done, and despite the annoyance of everything...the end result was worth it.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
White to Green
March. The Herald of Spring, the End of Winter. At least that's what the month means to me. Don't get me wrong...I love snow. I love driving by pristine stands of trees adorned with their mantels of white and their jewels of ice. I love the look of an unblemished field of snow. I love seeing the tiny shape of a crystalline flake, drifting onto my coat sleeve, or gleaming amongst the brightness of a snowbank.
But by February, I miss the grass and the buds, the butterflies and the birds. And I miss my gardens.
I have two; a flower garden in the front, and a vegetable/ fruit garden in the back. At the end of the growing season, I start collecting my seeds for the following year. By the beginning of March, I am ready. Out come the mini greenhouses. Wonderful things, they move about on wheels and have their own plastic zip-up covers.
Out come the styrofoam cups (why spend oodles of money on pots?)Out comes the fertilizer and the bags of dirt. And, of course, out come the seeds.
I start with the flowers. Vegetables grow more quickly, in my experience, and so I leave those until April.
This year's flower line-up includes the following: dianthus, cosmos, sweet pea (2 kinds), morning glory (four kinds), bachelor button, marigold, cascade petunia, wave petunia, delphinium, white alyssum, lavatera, phlox, bee balm, snapdragon and aster.
I am staggering my plantings this year. The first wave was started on March 1st. Amazingly, by the 3rd, some of the cosmos were already starting to poke their heads out of the soil.
But by February, I miss the grass and the buds, the butterflies and the birds. And I miss my gardens.
I have two; a flower garden in the front, and a vegetable/ fruit garden in the back. At the end of the growing season, I start collecting my seeds for the following year. By the beginning of March, I am ready. Out come the mini greenhouses. Wonderful things, they move about on wheels and have their own plastic zip-up covers.
Out come the styrofoam cups (why spend oodles of money on pots?)Out comes the fertilizer and the bags of dirt. And, of course, out come the seeds.
I start with the flowers. Vegetables grow more quickly, in my experience, and so I leave those until April.
This year's flower line-up includes the following: dianthus, cosmos, sweet pea (2 kinds), morning glory (four kinds), bachelor button, marigold, cascade petunia, wave petunia, delphinium, white alyssum, lavatera, phlox, bee balm, snapdragon and aster.
I am staggering my plantings this year. The first wave was started on March 1st. Amazingly, by the 3rd, some of the cosmos were already starting to poke their heads out of the soil.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Giant Chocolate Chunk Cookies
My husband is a self-proclaimed "Cookie Monster." Very rarely are we tempted to buy a pack from the store, though. Like everything else, I prefer to make them from scratch; that way I know exactly what's going into them. And I can add a little something extra if I wish: ground flax or whole wheat, for example.
This last weekend I made two batches of chocolate chunk cookies - the large, five-inch kind. Shape them into tubes, wrap them in plastic wrap and stuff them into the freezer in freezer bags, and you can have warm, chocolate-gooey cookies in 18 minutes whenever you want them.
Giant Chocolate Chunk (or chip) Cookies
Ingredients:
3/4 cup melted shortening (or margarine or unsalted butter)
1 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 egg
1 egg yolk
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
2 cups coarsely chopped dark chocolate bar (or semi-sweet chocolate chips)
Directions:
Preheat oven to 325 degrees F.
Grease cookie sheets (or use non-stick pans)
In a large bowl, cream together melted shortening, brown sugar and white sugar until very well blended. Add the vanilla, egg and egg yolk, and beat until creamy.
Combine flour, baking soda and salt. Mix dry ingredients into the batter until blended.
Add chocolate chunks. Stir.
Drop cookie dough onto the sheets (each ball should be approx. ¼ of a cup). Place the balls about 3 ½ ” apart.
Bake for approximately 15 minutes in the preheated oven. Edges should be golden.
Cool on baking sheets for a few minutes before transferring.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Growing Pains
About a month and a half ago, we bought a new car. We'd had every intention of getting another automatic, which was the only thing I knew how to drive. But, because of this, that, and the other thing, we ended up walking out of a dealership with a red standard, complete with sunroof.
So began the 'stick' driving lessons.
My husband, who has been very patient and long-suffering throughout this process, is my teacher, and so far, we've had about five or six lessons.
By the second lesson, I was up to gear five, motoring along a lonely stretch of road happily devoid (for the most part) of cars, traffic lights, stop signs and pedestrians.
By last week's lesson, I was pretty happy. The engine had only cut out twice, I was shifting and downshifting with comfortable ease, and I was merrily feeling that driving a standard was much more fun than driving an automatic.
And then we went on today's lesson. Well, first I suggested that I try driving from our house to the road that we use. I felt pretty confident until I was actually in the car, on the driveway. Gone was all the bubblyness from last week. Suddenly I felt like we were back to lesson one. Or two, at the most.
The engine cut going out of the driveway. Then it cut at the first stop sign. Then I accidentally shifted into first instead of third as I was downshifting, which made the engine rev and completely derailed any little confidence I had remaining.
So we decided to go back to my safe little parking lot to try and get it back.
The parking lot was covered in snow. For three consecutive days flakes drifted down from the sky. On Saturday, the flakes congealed on the ground as packing snow. The densest, stickiest, heaviest kind of snow. The perfect snow for snowmen. The worst kind of snow for driving.
But we were fine as I curved and stopped. Started and curved. Until I arced into one part of the lot. "Go forward," my husband urged. Nothing. "Go backward." Nothing. Uh oh.
Yup. On top of everything else, I got us stuck in a parking lot, literally two minutes away from our house. It took at least half an hour of pulling, pushing, shoveling (with a window scraper) and lining the tire tracks with the rubber floor mats to get out of there.
I made sure that my husband drove home, and I'll probably laugh about this later - when I finally feel comfortable with clutches and gears.
So began the 'stick' driving lessons.
My husband, who has been very patient and long-suffering throughout this process, is my teacher, and so far, we've had about five or six lessons.
By the second lesson, I was up to gear five, motoring along a lonely stretch of road happily devoid (for the most part) of cars, traffic lights, stop signs and pedestrians.
By last week's lesson, I was pretty happy. The engine had only cut out twice, I was shifting and downshifting with comfortable ease, and I was merrily feeling that driving a standard was much more fun than driving an automatic.
And then we went on today's lesson. Well, first I suggested that I try driving from our house to the road that we use. I felt pretty confident until I was actually in the car, on the driveway. Gone was all the bubblyness from last week. Suddenly I felt like we were back to lesson one. Or two, at the most.
The engine cut going out of the driveway. Then it cut at the first stop sign. Then I accidentally shifted into first instead of third as I was downshifting, which made the engine rev and completely derailed any little confidence I had remaining.
So we decided to go back to my safe little parking lot to try and get it back.
The parking lot was covered in snow. For three consecutive days flakes drifted down from the sky. On Saturday, the flakes congealed on the ground as packing snow. The densest, stickiest, heaviest kind of snow. The perfect snow for snowmen. The worst kind of snow for driving.
But we were fine as I curved and stopped. Started and curved. Until I arced into one part of the lot. "Go forward," my husband urged. Nothing. "Go backward." Nothing. Uh oh.
Yup. On top of everything else, I got us stuck in a parking lot, literally two minutes away from our house. It took at least half an hour of pulling, pushing, shoveling (with a window scraper) and lining the tire tracks with the rubber floor mats to get out of there.
I made sure that my husband drove home, and I'll probably laugh about this later - when I finally feel comfortable with clutches and gears.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Hello
What to write, and what not to write...something I've struggled with for a while before deciding to create this blog. So I figure, why not start with the basics.
My name is Monica C. Webster. I am an author and illustrator. I am also a cook, baker, gardener, seamstress, music teacher and choir director.
In addition to the above, I love to read, go camping, take nature walks, watch movies (only on weekends, though!) and sing. We are also learning how to ballroom dance.
We are grateful to share our home with two wonderful canine boys: our Hungarian Kuvasz 'Icewind Silver Dream,' and Tibetan Spaniel 'Keani Evening Song.'
And so this is what this blog is for: a compilation of all of the above.
My name is Monica C. Webster. I am an author and illustrator. I am also a cook, baker, gardener, seamstress, music teacher and choir director.
In addition to the above, I love to read, go camping, take nature walks, watch movies (only on weekends, though!) and sing. We are also learning how to ballroom dance.
We are grateful to share our home with two wonderful canine boys: our Hungarian Kuvasz 'Icewind Silver Dream,' and Tibetan Spaniel 'Keani Evening Song.'
And so this is what this blog is for: a compilation of all of the above.
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