Scammed

Wednesdays between the months of June and October are my busiest days, especially now that school has started. I have two farmers markets to staff, which means going to the bakery to get bread which I then wrap in brown paper and tie with twine, go to the bank for change for both markets, and make sure each staffer is equipped with all they need for the afternoon. We're also on week 4 of being a CSA pickup site. 70 cases of produce are dropped off at lunchtime and between 1:30 and 7, people come in to pick up their shares for the week. This is great fun because it means a flood of faces excited about fresh food. Sadly, I leave the shop each Wednesday at 2 to bring bread and product to Molly, my staffer at the Bellevue Farmers Market, so I miss much of the shop traffic. This Wednesday I felt a little off, a little foggier in the head than normal. I should note that Tulpen's sleep has been worse than usual over the past several weeks, and I am not, nor have I ever been, a coffee drinker. Sometimes I think that choice really is to my detriment. My bleary eyes passed over the shop, taking account of all I needed to accomplish there in the next four hours. The list I'd written had been left on the dining room table at home. I began compartmentalizing and tackling each task one by one until I'd gotten caught up and things were all as they should be.

Then, not ten minutes before it was time for me to leave, I answered the phone. Most of the calls I get are telemarketers or robo/hang-up calls. I've learned to not even pick up most of the time since they're not worth my time, but this time someone answered right away - a man who identified himself as a Duquesne Light technician. He had been sent out on a call to disconnect my service and would be at the shop in 45 minutes. Service was to be shut off due to my failure to pay, which was news to me. I use auto pay so my bills are deducted without my having to think about it, and I feel foolish for not being more keenly aware of this activity in my bank account. However, there had been alarming high e-bill two weeks ago, though I'd called about it immediately and had them put a stop on the automatic drafts while they conduct a meter reading. He told me that notices had been sent, and when the final notice had also gone ignored, this was protocol. My first instinct was to protest, but time was not on my side and I had to leave. I've been wrong about these things before, and, like in the case of my home water bill, things had been sent to the wrong address due to clerical errors. I knew this was entirely possible. He gave me the number to call to have things straightened out. The amount I was told I owed matched what was on the e-bill from earlier this month. Before I knew it, I was taking Joshua in Accounts Payable's instructions to get cash so I could report to a payment site on Baum Boulevard. I had to make my delivery to Molly and then get Olive from school before I could do anything else, but I hadn't gotten all the facts. My phone's battery was low but I'd gotten the address of the payment office. I was to call Accounts Payable when I got to the office and would be given more detailed instructions at that point. I was getting regular calls from Joshua who told me that the call was being recorded because he needed to show he was on the phone with me to keep the technician from carrying out the shut-off. All I could think of were the ice cream sandwiches and pints in the chest freezer that would thaw if the shop lost power. OVER MY DEAD BODY. Matt, my pal and coverage at the shop, arrived while I was still on the phone with Joshua. He could sense my state of panic and immediate scooped Tulpen from me while I dashed out to the bank around the corner to withdraw the exact amount I needed to pay to keep my electric account in good standing: $998.54. I was grateful I had it, that I'd picked up the phone, that I'd been at the shop and not Matt, who wouldn't know what to do. I breathed a sigh of relief that I was that much closer to taken care of this unexpected bit of business. Having loaded bread, olive oil, and daughters into the car, I even stopped to survey the landscaping outside the shop for Marlowe's toys she'd left behind and retrieved them for her, before zipping out, twenty minutes behind schedule.

Roughly five minutes of downtime existed before I had to pick up Olive from school, which would have been an opportune time to research the validity of the claim that my account was, indeed, past due. But my battery had dipped below 10% and I needed to keep it on to field Joshua's calls while still conserve enough battery for the final call to process my payment. The three girls were on our way to the payment office on Baum, twenty minutes from Olive's school, when I got a third call from Joshua since leaving the shop. "Do you know when you'll be there?" he asked, seeming impatient. I had told him every time we'd spoken when I'd be there. 4 o'clock. I began to get testy. "Have you listened to nothing I've said? I had plans today. Plans that could not be altered. I had no notice. I'm doing the best I can." He apologized and said that he had to ask since the call was being recorded. We made it at the agreed upon time, and we circled around the area on foot looking for an office. When I saw the address posted on the door I was certain I'd taken down the wrong number. It was a Rite Aid. I called Joshua and I stared around, bewildered, searching for an enclave labeled for Duquesne Light use. "That's right," he told me. "Go to where to the prepaid cards are near the front." I found them. "Now get two MoneyPak cards and bring them to the cashier. Have him put $500 on one and $498 on the other." He had neglected to tell me that there was a fee for the cards, for which I did not have cash, so I used the ATM in the store. The cashier looked concerned and asked me what this was for. "Oh, just paying my Duquesne Light bill to avoid service shut-off. The system was down so I couldn't pay online or over the phone." Though I was telling Joshua how COMPLETELY SHADY all of this was as I withdrew money from the ATM to pay the difference, I left feeling like the transaction was somehow legitimate. My shame and embarrassment at my stupidity horrify me as I recount the events of the day, but it wasn't until I got back to the shop where Rob was and told him that I'd gotten it cleared up did the fog begin to clear and the realization that I'd been taken started to settle in. No longer being in a rush, I sat down on the shop phone to put in a call to Duquesne Light. It was a different than the Duquesne Light I'd been calling for the past four hours. Clearer. LEGITIMATE. A company that gives its customers SEVENTY-TWO HOURS' NOTICE, not 45 minutes', before terminating service. The representative assured me that my account was not in default.

I felt ill. I had just thrown away over $1000. Money that would have been put to good use for the business. Money that, had I been in a more comfortable place, could have done a whole heck of a lot of good for the flood victims in Texas and Louisiana. I can't think about it. Rob told me to just let it go. I should. It's only money that can be made back. But it's the way it was taken from my trusting hands that pains me so. Still, I'm trying to take comfort in the fact that I didn't have to sacrifice too much to get it. A few hours of stress. My children will not miss any meals. But the thing I appreciate most is how Rob responded to my foolishness. He did not shame me or make me feel worse than I was already feeling. This is how he is. I had great difficulty falling asleep last night (I am now writing the morning after), and kept trying to push out thoughts of my conversation with the scam artists by reminding myself how truly lucky I am to be with someone so calm, patient, and kind. Someone who doesn't believe in punishing me for acting on impulse and forgetting reason. I am out not an insubstantial bit of money, but what matters most to me is still very much in tact.

Solo Parenting

I gave myself a taste of flying solo with two small children two weeks ago when I took the girls on a breakneck trip down to Maryland and North Carolina to visit family and friends. Aside from Olive not napping and Marlowe being a poor traveler (unlike her sister, who would probably trek across the Sahara Desert with me and utter not a word of complaint), we got along just fine. Still, it wasn't easy to be at the helm without Rob for four days. I figured it'd be good practice for when he left us for seventeen days to go to see his family in Alaska. Zoe got in late last night/early this morning, we got a few hours of sleep, then woke at 4 to get them back to the airport by 5:30 so they could head off to Anchorage. Fortunately the girls and I all got in good, long naps today. The three of us went to our shop for a few hours this evening so I could get some work done. I was pretty proud of my accomplishments given my company: I assembled Olive's bed (one of the two rooms upstairs will be for the girls and we'd like for Olive to be able to continue her naps there), sanitized 45 bottles, and bottled 5 gallons of coconut mango balsamic with a fussy Marlowe strapped to me. After we got home, I helped Olive get ready for bed and we read her favorite book, Bread and Jam for Frances. Marlowe went down just as easily and I had the rest of the evening to clean the kitchen, normally Rob's job. It was really satisfying to end the day in such a way and think I may get into the habit of cleaning before bed.

I've not been looking forward to Rob's trip, but my schedule is so packed that I'm sure the time will zip by and he and Zoe will be back before we know it.

Four Sweet Years

Yesterday Rob and I celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary. Two girls and one business venture later, we're still happy as can be and I can't imagine what my life would be now without him. We went out for the first time since before having Marlowe (our good friend, Alex, graciously offered to come stay with them in exchange for a bottle of her favorite olive oil) and enjoyed a terrific dinner at Legume, a restaurant in Oakland specializing in local fare. We ate ourselves silly, capping off our dinners of pork, chicken-friend tempeh, and parsnip soup, fried barley and tallow fries with baked Alaska and rice pudding with rosemary caramel and granola. We made the right choice.

Baby Laughs

I've been finding it hard to complete blog posts lately (I've started many!), between caring for a 3 year-old and 3 month-old and readying our store to open for business in the coming month, but I had to share this footage I captured today. Snaker, as we've taken to calling Marlowe (Olive gave her the nickname and it stuck), gave me her first real laugh yesterday so we've been having fun getting her to keep the chuckles coming. Oh, she's mighty sweet!

And Then There Was a Three Year-Old

Twelve short days after greeting Marlowe we found ourselves parents of a three year-old.  That milestone is monumental, the difference between two and three enormous.  This was only heightened by seeing Olive and Marlowe side by side; compared to the tiny infant Olive is gigantic.  She's always been a sturdily built kid, but now she's downright huge, and while she's a bit clumsy when it comes to having a baby around, she's every bit as sweet as she's always been.

Though we didn't plan anything special for her birthday this year since we were still caught up in the chaos of managing life with one more, we decided the day before to celebrate with a trip to the Children's Museum, a place that will become more and more exciting for her as she gets older, and a hot dog dinner at Franctuary (our gal doesn't eat meat but delights in a veggie dog with mustard).  The museum trip got put on hold because, miraculously, she went down for a nap (her first in nearly a week!), but we all enjoyed our dinner then returned home and cozied up on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn and watched half of Disney's Robin Hood.  I think she had a really nice day.

How gleefully she greeted her birthday!

Holding that duckie Marlowe - one of her favorite things to do as a big sister

Coloring at Franctuary

 Pleased with her dinner - veggie sausage topped with relish and spicy mustard (that had to be scraped off) and fries

 More love for that little one

Welcome Home, Marlowe!

It came as news to some when we announced her arrival on Sunday morning, but we'd been eagerly awaiting the day since learning of her existence on June 5th last year.  There were even family members who had a hard time believing that we were expecting another member of our household sometime around Valentine's Day.  You see, we'd thought we might be "one and done", as they say, after Olive because, honestly, we had it pretty darn good with her.  She was a delightfully easy baby and has continued to be very mellow and virtually void of challenges. I'd been able to convince myself that she was all I wanted but a little over a year ago I started experiencing a nagging of wanting one  - just one - more.  As I watched Olive grow and develop, seeing the type of person she was becoming, how much she had to give, I saw that she needed a sibling; we needed another child.  I just had to make Rob believe this as strongly as I did.  A few weeks after approaching him with my life-changing request, the giving husband that he is, he agreed.

Last Thursday, February 7th, at my 39th week mark, I began experiencing contractions before going to bed.  Since I could differentiate between those and the Braxton-Hicks I decided it was time to set up the pool.  Rob inflated it and later, after he'd gone to bed, I stayed up to fill it.  After making twenty trips (I was keeping a tally on the dry-erase board) to fill it with the stock pot because the adaptor for the hose wouldn't fit our faucet, I called it a night at 3:30.  I woke at 7:30 with much stronger contractions so I got up to move around, hoping to alleviate them.  There came a knock at the door which turned out to be our friend, Alex, arriving to assist.  She fed Olive breakfast while I did morning things, then she, Olive, and I went out for a short walk.  As we neared the house Warren, another friend, showed up.  Rob ran out to Home Depot for another adaptor for the hose and then we commenced filling the tub (we should have learned from our last experience that filling the tub is a task best left till the last minute).  Later in the morning Ellen, our newly-hired midwife, arrived and gave me some herbal remedies to expedite labor and calm my contractions.  After several hours of increasingly strong contractions Ellen examined me to find that I had not dilated at all, so she went home, as did Alex and Warren.  I didn't sleep at all that night and wound up calling Ellen again around midnight.  I didn't want to bring her over again unnecessarily but this time it seemed that things were really transitioning into more active labor.  at 3:30 am she arrived and the hours that followed were a blur.  Another group of friends who planned on being present during the labor, Shauna, Maria, and Mark, were at a sustainable agriculture conference in State College, several hours away, but left on Saturday morning to get to our house.  They showed up around lunchtime being coconuts (I'd expressed a desire for fresh coconut water months back), and their being there was immensely soothing.  What was less than calming was Olive, so I called Kellie to see if they'd mind keeping her for a few hours.  She agreed and Rob went at met her so they could go on a family outing.  After talking to Kellie, who offered the suggestion her midwife had given her: to pump for 30 minutes and walk for 30 minutes and alternate, Shauna, Maria, Rob, and I set off on another of many walks around the neighborhood.  It was true that this method intensified contractions, thus facilitating labor.  Food was ordered from Smiling Banana Leaf, our neighborhood Thai restaurant, but my appetite was shot; I only ate a bite of broccoli from my green curry.  At 6 pm Ellen checked me and I was still only 2 cm dilated but because of the thinness of my cervix she was able to stretch me to 4.  Soon after I was at 6 and it was time to get into the pool.  It felt heavenly and I was pleased to have made it that far (during Olive's labor I was never able to set foot in the pool we'd prepared).  The warmth and weightlessness of the water was just what I needed and it allowed me to more easily breathe through my stronger contractions.  Fortunately, though more painful than with Olive's birth, none of these lasted more than 90 seconds.  I had a few with Olive that lasted well over ten minutes at their peak - one lasted a full twenty minutes - so this was far more manageable.  Olive was brought back to us just past her bedtime, making it easy for Rob to put her straight to bed and allow me to continue to labor without worrying about her well-being.  The tub was beginning to wear on me after a while.  I was watching the hours tick past and soon it was ten o'clock.  I'd been in the pool for nearly four hours and, despite taking breaks to pump, contractions were slowing which wasn't altogether encouraging.  What I needed most was rest since it was Saturday night and I'd only had about four hours of sleep since Thursday.  I climbed, water-logged, from the tub and stumbled into bed beside Rob and Olive (she'd been put to sleep in our bed so a friend could use hers if necessary).  After I retired Shauna, Maria, and Mark left and Ellen curled up on our couch, but not five minutes after I went to bed the contractions ramped up again, coming in shorter intervals.  I tried my best to breathe through them and not carry on like I wanted to, so as not to wake Olive, but I couldn't bear them any longer so went to her empty bed and wailed like a beaten cat.  It was at that point that I sensed another trip to the hospital was in our future.  I woke Ellen who offered to break my water since that would likely put things on the fast track to delivery. I was still at 6 cm and I got back in the tub to welcome Marlowe, or so I imagined.  The pain was dizzying and each time a wave came over me I had to fight the overwhelming urge to bite.  Rob knelt by the side of the tub holding my hand and at one point I nearly took his hand in my teeth, then considered biting the inflatable tub and wound up biting my own hand instead (something I hadn't done since I was probably five; my mom would know better than I would).  Breathing calmly through the pain made no noticeable difference to me and only required more determination and effort.  I told Ellen I wanted to go to the hospital.  "You'll regret it," she told me, but I knew that I wouldn't.  My grand plan of having a home birth, already thwarted once, was becoming less and less important to me.  All I wanted at that moment was to have her out of me.  Once Ellen said that she wasn't going to keep me from going, I got out of the pool and went to my room to gather some things to bring with me to the hospital (I grabbed three pairs of underwear and an extra shirt, all unnecessary items for the trip I was about to take).  Rob called Alex who, at 1:30 am, had just retired so was still lucid enough to make a quick getaway to come stay with Olive.  Ellen drove me over to Magee Women's Hospital in Oakland, a 15-minute drive, while Rob waited for Alex and Keith to arrive.  As soon as we got there I was checked in and wheeled into a room.  Never before had I been so devoid of my senses.  I was on the floor when the man with the wheelchair came to get me in the lobby.  I was screaming at the nurses to get me medicine to quell the pain.  Whatever they finally gave me made me woozy and sleepy but didn't seem to dampen the sensations, and I begged for something stronger.  The epidural was the next step and, without giving it a second thought (something that Rob and I seriously discussed together the last time), I agreed.  Taking that shot is something I do really well, if I do say so; I sat calmly, still as a statue, ready to receive the promised relief and, minutes later, there it was.  Shortly afterward the doctor came in to talk to me about the likelihood of me having another c-section.  Admittedly, the thought of this was appealing.  Cesarians, while far from ideal, don't send me screaming, either.  Having had one before I can talk about them from either side, but I truly did appreciate being able to relax with Rob by my side while our daughter was being plucked from my womb.  This particular doctor's approach, however, was what was so off-putting to us.  When I told him that I'd prefer to wait a little longer before electing to have the procedure done, he was incredulous that I'd rather wait until the moment my baby was in danger before deciding to have surgery.  He went on to chide me for not doing my research on that particular hospital's policies, then used scare tactics like a possible hysterectomy to further sway us to his way of thinking.  Rob chimed in and called him on his bullying.  The man wasn't hearing a bit of what I had to say and was shooting down all of my logic.  We told him that we wanted to talk about it alone before reaching a decision so he left us.  We agreed that he was being unreasonable, but also sensed that he knew my situation better than I did and really, who were we to gamble with the outcome of this pregnancy.  Even Ellen agreed that it was probably the safest call.  I was still maintaining the same 6 cm dilation and it didn't seem as though things were going to change with that, so we gave the go-ahead.  Within fifteen minutes the doctor had gathered his team of surgeons, Rob was given his suit and cap to wear, and I was wheeled into the OR.  I felt not a thing but the ache in my neck, shoulders, and upper back, soreness from hauling pots of water to the pool a few nights before.  Then the surgeons announced the gender, which we already knew, but there was always the slight chance that we were wrong.  She was out.  Marlowe Magnolia Nell, born at 6:52 am on February 10th, weighing a slight 7 pounds and 2 ounces and measuring a long 21.5 inches (Olive was 7 lb 14 oz and 21 inches long by comparison).  Though we requested that he be the one to cut the cord, Rob wasn't asked to come complete the task.  The sewing up part took far longer than it had before - over an hour was spent piecing me back together and sticking me up.  Rob held onto our tiny child while I dozed there on the table, then we were taken to our room.  Alex and Keith showed up shortly afterward and then we were relocated to our permanent room.  We enjoyed more visits from other friends, but most notable was Dylan, a friend who'd moved to DC to attend grad school over the summer.  He'd heard the day before that I was in labor so took a MegaBus to Pittsburgh the very next morning and was able to meet Marlowe on her birthday. So special.
I spent two nights at Magee Women's Hospital with Marlowe.  Rob and Olive came to stay during the day but left each night at Olive's bedtime.  I really appreciated the hands-off approach they used there, allowing Marlowe to sleep in the room with me (the hospital in Machias, Maine, where Olive was born, insisted that either Rob or I be awake all night in order for her to stay in our room with us). All checkups and tests were conducted in the room right beside me.  When the pediatrician came in to check on Marlowe she was concerned that she'd had only one wet diaper and strongly urged me to give her a bottle of formula.  Understanding that our plan was to avoid formula, our nurse discouraged it and said that Marlowe was fine; she'd produce a wet diaper soon enough, and she was right.  Though the doctor who did the c-section was pushy, I didn't find that to be the case with the rest of the staff there and left feeling pleased with my care there.

It's been nearly two weeks now since Marlowe was born.  I'm still healing from the surgery and will continue to do so for the next few weeks, I imagine.  It's a slow process this way, but I don't regret the way things turned out.  Perhaps I jinxed myself by being so overly confident in my ability to have a home birth.  It really doesn't matter, though, in the end.  She's healthy, gaining weight at a steady rate, and I'm on the mend, so the route taken to get to where we are is inconsequential.  Olive is assuming her role with grace and a surprising lack of outright jealously.  It's clear that she's pretty enamored with the little big-eared thing we brought home and takes every chance she's given to cradle and hug her.  That's what I wanted most of all - for Olive to weather the transition from being an only child to older sibling with as few bumps as possible, and so far she's amazed us.  So far, so very, very good.

Our Third Winter

I've started and abandoned countless blog posts since returning from Europe three and a half months ago.  It seems I can't find the chunk of time to devote to the writing that I'd like to do, and if I'm interrupted I lack the motivation to pick up where I left off.  Winters tend to be quiet in our house with not much to report, but then I realize that, with a little girl who's just about to turn three in a couple of weeks, there's actually lots to say!

Currently we're in the throes of potty-training which is going really well.  We held off on it for a long time, even though a small potty has been sitting in our bathroom for nearly a year and a half.  I stocked up on some underwear for her to give her an incentive to use it and so far she's really taken to it (she used it successfully five times yesterday and had two accidents - a pretty good ratio, I'd say).  I don't expect a full transition anytime soon, however.  All in good time.

She's really mastered her recognition of the United States - I honestly can't think of any that she can't answer at this point - and has moved on to countries in Africa and South America.  It's so fascinating to watch a child at this age and learn what interests them the most.  She's also taken a liking to Legos so Rob and I have been on the hunt on eBay for more sets so she can expand her collection and possibilities for building.  Her favorite part is dismantling the structures but really, whatever suits her is fine with us.

We've let down our guard on the movie watching a lot lately, too.  We held fast to the no-watching-before-two policy but lately, especially with her accompanying me to work at least one day a week, it's nice for her to have a distraction.  She really favors Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol, a gift from Mimi and PopPop, and How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and sings songs and quotes lines from both quite a bit.  My favorite?  "God bless us - every one!"  She once blurted this out at a party while friends, bowls of soup in hand, gathered in a circle to eat.

Last month Rob started a filmmaking class through Pittsburgh Filmmakers which he attends every Tuesday evening.  He's long had an interest in film so I'm pleased that he's able to take advantage of what's offered here in our city.

My extracurricular weekly activity has been, for the last year now, Pub Quiz night at Brillobox, a bar a few neighborhoods over from where we live.  It's extremely challenging and, thus, that much more satisfying when our team places in the top three (last week we came in third with only two of us present!  3rd prize is a free appetizer which, in our opinion, is the best deal of all).  Friendships here have continued to deepen and are, by far, the best part of living here.

I've been running a bit more in anticipation of marathon #5 on May 5th.  Though this has been our coldest and snowiest winter since living in Pittsburgh, I've still found some breaks in the weather to go out.  Last week we had a couple-day warm spell where we enjoyed temperatures in the 60s!  It's difficult to not run when it's that unseasonably nice outside.  This year I'll be running to raise funds for a different cause: The Maya Organization, a local nonprofit founded and run by our landlady, which allocates funds for adoptive and birth parents, facilitating the process for families seeking to grow through adoption, something that is so meaningful to me after my parents' adopted my brother Roma from Russia nearly eleven years ago.  I encourage you to donate to this charity by clicking on the link:
http://www.crowdrise.com/TeamMayaOrgPittsburgh2013/fundraiser/heathercramer

We're still working on plans for an upcoming - hopefully springtime - move for the business.  Nothing's yet been signed and set in stone, so I'll hold off on making any official announcements, but it's an exciting, and often anxiety-inducing, process.  But after two and a half years in what has been sort of an incubation location, we feel like our business is ready to stand on its own two feet (four feet?  six feet?  It's hard to say).  We've been scouting storefronts closer to home that would make walking practical and have had some pretty encouraging leads.  Having close friend who is a contractor also gives me peace of mind as far as the necessary renovations are concerned.

That's all for now.  Stay tuned for more on the move and the marathon!

Our Wonderful 2012

The last year has got to be the best I've ever had, which is saying a great deal because I seem to remember 2009 and 2010 being two years that were pretty hard to top.  But now that I have have my Rob and Olive, the two things that made those years so completely wonderful, things can only go up from there.

To start, I managed to not run my new business venture into the ground in its fledgling year under my control - a feat in and of itself.  I'm proud of how I've been able to successfully grow the company, especially since entrepreneur had never been a role I imagined myself filling.  And I love it!  We're eager to see what changes, big and small, 2013 will bring to our little family olive oil business.

In March Rob and I took our very first significant trip alone together, which was both a blessing and a hardship being away from Olive for a whole week.  However, Napa was like a dream, and seeing our friends, Bruce and Romeo and exploring their ranch, enjoying incredible food, and learning about olive oil at the Olive Center at UC Davis was really a perfect vacation.

I ran my fourth marathon in May (and am eagerly looking forward to my fifth in - yikes - just over four months, despite the fact that I haven't run since that leisurely 3-miler I did with my dad on Thanksgiving).  Though it becomes easier each time I run 26.2 miles, it's still an accomplishment, not to mention a nice way to help raise money for charities.  Stay tuned for more on that later.

I had what was, without a doubt, the best summer in all of my thirty-one years, spent with some of the finest folks in Pittsburgh.  Wonderful foods were made and consumed, conversations had, and bonds forged that will last a lifetime.  These are the people that Olive sees not just as my friends, but hers, as well, and are very much like family to all of us.

My sudden urge in July to take a family trip to Europe was one of the best ideas I've ever hatched, if I do say so myself.  Such an excursion might have seemed too far-fetched for us at one time, but I figured    we should take the opportunity to make more memories.  The three of us still regularly go through the photographs we took and talk to Olive about what we did there just so it doesn't become too vague a memory as she gets older.

I welcomed my third niece, Opal, in late October.  Though we haven't seen much of her since her first week (despite living 25 minutes from my sister, our schedules are rarely in sync enough to allow for many visits and our paths didn't cross in Maryland the day after Christmas as we'd hoped because of some pretty nasty weather), she is an absolute doll with the widest, most inquisitive-looking eyes I've ever seen.  Olive loves her and is constantly asking to look at pictures of her youngest cousin.

And finally, I've started regularly producing artwork again.  I've been looking around our house at the artwork, noting that most of it has been done since becoming a Pittsburgher.  While it's overwhelming at times, it feels really good knowing that I have the ability to create things that affect other people in a positive way, and to still be using the gift I was given.  Olive seems to enjoy watching me work, too, and gets inspired to paint, herself, which delights me much in the way my own artist mother must've loved watching her children create works on paper.

 Basking in the early spring sunshine in Napa

 Olive with two of her favorite people, Keith and Alex.  Bagel making was in progress.

 Giving a squeeze to Shackleton, our friends' house bunny

 Exploring the creek in our friend's back yard.  I wouldn't at all mind having a house with a creek one day.

 Getting a visit from Alex at the Pittsburgh Public Market

 On a walk around Alpine Lake while visiting Mimi and Pop Pop at their lake house in West Virginia

 Our spur-of-the-moment Labor Day trip to Lake Erie 

 Making their way up to the Rock of Dunamase near Port Laoise, Ireland

 Looking out over Dingle Bay off of Slea Head Drive on the Dingle Peninsula in western Ireland

 My two loves, delighted to be at the Rock of Cashel, a pretty impressive Irish castle

Crawling through a rope tunnel at the Tiergarten Schönbrunn, the zoo in Vienna, Austria

Giving a kiss to Pink Cat, Olive's companion, near the foot of the Eiffel Tower

 Olive was always wanting Marie, our hostess in Prague, to read her stories.  I think she enjoyed her accent.

Opal!  She arrived during the hype of Hurricane Sandy on October 29th at the Midwife Center.  She is such a dear.

Christmas Eve

We got a later start getting to Maryland for Christmas this year; our plan was to leave when I got off work last night but a family-wide flu delayed us till this morning.  Boy, was it a nasty bug we caught!  I thought it was something I'd eaten when I got it on Friday evening since I didn't have most of the other symptoms, but on Saturday morning, as I was leaving Rob and Olive to work the stand at the market, Olive was acting unusually upset and Rob said he was starting to feel sick - a rare occurrence indeed.  I went home to make up for the night of sleep I'd lost and waited for his call.  It came a few hours later; Olive was vomiting all over the place so I got up to go relieve them.  I'd gotten enough sleep to recharge me to the point where I could work the last few hours without too much difficulty.  I returned home to a house where the virus was in full swing - a troubling situation for a mother and wife - so I immediately commenced preparing my very first chicken stock from scratch.  We all needed to replenish our fluids and I figured that was the best - if not the quickest - way.  I roasted the chicken then picked it apart and simmered nearly all of it in a broth with an onion lots of garlic, salt, and rosemary, and let it slowly cook all night.  Its hot, salty fattiness was unbelievably soothing on my empty stomach.  

So this morning we decided we were all well enough for the 3 1/2 hour drive to my parents' house.  A busy day was in store for us with an afternoon stop into Baltimore so I could see my old friends-employers at Amaryllis followed by a visit with my old friend Rita.  It had begun to snow lightly before we left my parents' house but the roads were just wet and posed no threat.  While we were in Amaryllis (the best jewelry store in Maryland - wait - the country), Olive busied herself leafing through magazines and admiring the inventory while I caught up with Allie and AnnMarie.  Rob had been keeping an eye on her but she suddenly disappeared.  We looked all over the store and she was nowhere to be seen.  I poked my head outside and didn't see her, but when Rob did the same we heard a car horn and then we saw her, up the block and a across the street, being taken into the care of an officious-looking gentleman on the corner.  Rob dashed across to retrieve her and she appeared to be oblivious to the danger of the situation and our fear.  I suppose she'd simply wanted to check out the feathered deer in the Anthropologie window display (I could hardly blame her).  Still, another brush with something like that made me that much more conscious of how easily and quickly terrible accidents can happen with children.  I'm so thankful that it turned out the way it did and that my dear child is safe and asleep, warm in her crib.

We ended up nixing church and my longtime tradition of my friend, Natalie's parents' Christmas Eve party, and stayed home because the roads had become too horrific.  Fortunately our car performs well in wintry conditions, and Rob and I have plenty of Alaska- and Maine-driving experience, but we saw an alarming number of cars off the road so we opted to play it safe and relax.  Being in Maryland this year sure beats the way I spent Christmas last year, laid up in bed with the flu (?) while Rob worked.  There was nothing Christmasy about it.

December with the Cramers

This month has gotten off to a pretty great start.  It began with my mom visiting the market where I work to do a signing for her book, But the Greatest of These is Love.  It was nice to have here there for a few hours so she could experience my workplace and meet some of my friends.

I have just discovered, after nearly five weeks of going without wheat in my diet, that the itchy condition on my legs has drastically improved.  I was waiting to talk about it for fear that I'd jinx myself, but it's been nearly a week of relief and it's so much more comfortable at night without all the scratching and bleeding.  What's more, I no longer resemble a dog with mange from the knees down, which is great.  It really hasn't been all that much of a sacrifice like I'd thought.  I didn't give up gluten which frees me up to continue to enjoy many of the foods I love, like oatmeal.

I'm feeling like an artist again, after a few years of taking on very few side projects.  I was asked by a friend who manages our neighborhood coffee shop, Tazza D'Oro, if I'd be willing to show my work there during the month of January and I eagerly accepted.  My plan was to reproduce a collection of photographs from our trip in October in watercolors, so I have my work cut out for me between now and the first of the year.  I'm really excited about creating a fresh body of work for the occasion, and have carved out a small studio space for myself in our living room.  In addition to working on paintings for the show (which will also be hung in March for another show at my friend's book store), I have on my plate a large-scale watercolor portrait for a client who won a painting at a benefit auction back in the spring and a very special scratchboard portrait for a dear friend's Christmas gift to another dear friend.  I'm busy.

Work has really picked up with the onset of December.  People are getting serious about their gift purchasing now.  One gentleman came to my stand for presents and bought twenty-seven bottles of olive oil and balsamics!  I just had my best Saturday ever - and perhaps weekend, though I haven't compared the total numbers yet.  I'm still on the hunt for a storefront space but I've gotten a few very promising leads, so hopefully by the beginning of the new year I'll have found the place where my business can call home.

Rob's been doing some hands-on work with Julie, the female kinkajou in the zoo's education department.  She's aggressive and not very friendly, so his goal is to tame her and get her better adjusted to human interaction.  He teaches a lot of classes and yesterday led two groups of three year-olds, an age with which he's especially familiar since Olive is only two months shy of that mark.  One of the parents told him afterwards that it was the best class she'd ever seen conducted.  He puts so much into his work and I'm exceedingly proud of him for bringing such enthusiasm to his job.  He excels in whatever he does.

Olive's been a little funny thing lately.  Yesterday, after waking from a good nap at the market, I suggested we go to the restroom to change her diaper.  "You stink," I told her.  "I smell beautiful!," she replied.  She's so filled with joy so much of the time (her down moments are rare and short-lived, thankfully).  I cannot imagine a more pleasant child.  We are so blessed by her each and every day.

The Tempeh Can't Wait

Lately, since Olive has transitioned from her crib to a bed, she's been getting up and starting her days especially early - often before Rob and I are ready to get up, so she busies herself happily until we are.  However, she's taken to opening up the refrigerator to examine the contents and consider what she'd like for breakfast.  Yesterday we heard the refrigerator door open and some clattering ensue so Rob went to investigate.  What he found was Olive, on the floor with a slab of tempeh, setting to work boring a hole in the packaging with a knife she'd selected from the utensil drawer.  She had a very specific plan, that one.

Shortly afterwards, when Rob had made her eggs and vegetables for breakfast, she looked up and asked him, "But where's the tempeh?"

Remembering Europe

Yesterday while Olive was recounting our trip to Europe (as she often does), I asked her if she drove a car in Austria.  "No!  I drove in Vienna!"  It's true - she did get to drive a car in Vienna during our visit to the Prater, the amusement park there.  It was one of those little cars that went around on a track, and she was most amused by it, at least after the first time around.  She also rode a horse (on a carousel and a real one with me on the back), a carousel swan, a giant fan (Ferris wheel), ate a pretzel, sat down, and saw a fountain.  When talking about her first day in Vienna, she mentions all of these things.

We've been back in Pittsburgh for nearly four weeks and I'm still amazed that we were able to pull off such an extensive vacation.  It was truly the best I've ever taken and will be difficult to match, though we plan on returning in five years.  If we can make this a regular happening as often as that we'll be thrilled.  And next time, when Olive is seven or eight, she'll have even more stories to tell.

Here are some highlights (as told by me; I'm sure Rob and Olive have their own accounts):

Slea Head Drive, Dingle, Ireland.  After checking out of our delightful B&B, where we had a delectable Irish breakfast, we drove along this scenic road that winds around the peninsula on the western coast of Ireland.  I was awestruck as we made our way around the curvy, narrow roads, marveling at every turn at the breathtaking scenery that surrounded us on every side.  The ocean, the cliffs, cozy cottages and craggy rocks and hillsides dotted with white sheep.  I think Rob has a mind to retire there one day and I wouldn't be opposed to joining him.  

Paris.  Our single full day spent there was a full one, indeed, and though we didn't get to do half the things we would've liked to have done, it still made such a wonderful impression on me.  The catacombs and sewer tour were at the top of Rob's list of things to do, but since our day coincided with the Louvre's free admission day (the first Sunday of the month), we felt we needed to take advantage of that.  Though we arrived just after the doors opened, the line wound through the inner courtyard and out onto the street.  The estimated wait time was 2-3 hours.  I didn't know that I wanted to spend that chunk of time waiting in line but Rob was willing to earn his trip, so to speak.  We'd only waited about twenty minutes when a guard approached us and told us to come with him; because we had a small child we were ushered to the entrance, a gesture of such generosity of kindness we had not expected.  The museum itself was impressive - mostly because of its size.  I'm glad we went, but next time we're there I'm going to make a beeline for the Musée d'Orsay.  

Afterward we made our way to the catacombs.  After a bit of trouble finding the elusive underground tombs, we arrived at the door to find a sign telling us it was closed to the public because of ventilation problems.  We went to the Eiffel Tower instead.  Too exhausted to climb the tower's stairs (we'd already walked for miles and I'd gotten little sleep; a Saturday night with open windows facing out onto the streets of Montmartre made for a restless night for this light sleeper), we opted to enjoy the view from the bottom, stroll along the Seine, and hunt for lunch.  Choosing a restaurant even ten block from the tourist haven was a mistake, and we suffered through a less-than-mediocre meal, but we redeemed ourselves a few hours later when we happened upon a festival near our Metro station.  We browsed the tents with vendors selling a manner of edibles, then selected a slab of tomme cheese, three baguettes (the best I'd ever eaten), and some olive and tomato tapenade, brought it back to our hotel and picnicked on our bed.  I felt a twinge of guilt for turning in at 6 pm, but after schlepping around for nine hours with a worn-out - yet still pleasant - child, calling it a day was the wisest thing to do.  And Paris, despite living up to its heavy-smoking stereotype, turned out to be a city where I felt very much at home.  The Metro system was so efficient and easily navigable, the residents friendly and not at all rude to us Americans, and even my few years of middle and high school French came very much in handy, both in reading signs and communicating with the locals.  I tried to use their language as often as possible - so much so that long after we'd arrived in Austria I still found myself saying "Excusez-moi," when maneuvering through crowds.  That I didn't know the German translation was also a factor.

The Hotel Salzburger Hof in Salzburg.  While our time here was dampened by chilly rain, making our Sound of Music tour less enjoyable than it could've been and obscuring our views of the mountains and lake, we were fortunate to be able to hunker down during the worst weather of our trip in the nicest hotel imaginable.  Just a three minute walk from the train station, we settled in to our comfortable accommodations in the theme hotel (guests stayed in either Salzburg, Mozart, or Sound of Music rooms).  I wasn't sure whether ours was a Salzburg or Mozart room since it had a scene of the city on one of the walls but Mozart's profile on the frosted glass bathroom door, but it was nice, nonetheless, with a foyer, lounge area (where Buggy slept on the couch), our bedroom, and a pretty decked out bathroom with heated floors.  The best part of all was the breakfast, a smorgasbord of morning treats on which we gorged ourselves both days we were there.  I grew especially fond of the yogurt, fruit, and muesli, there were plenty of eggs and fruit for Buggy, and breads, cheeses, meats, and endless coffee for Rob.  I've never been one to skip out on breakfast so this was perfect.  We're looking forward to staying there again the next time.

Vienna.  I'd set my sights pretty high on this city for a long time, but it only lived up to my expectations.  We stayed in a beautiful and comfortable hotel on a nice street that was convenient to nearly everything.  We had two full days to spend there, both of which were perfect (with the exception of my birthday dinner, which we ranked worst meal on the trip, but I won't talk about that.  Nothing too terrible, just the worst of what we had).  On the first we set off on foot to the Upper Belvedere Palace, an art museum housing an impressive Gustav Klimt collection.  I thought the physical museum itself trumped the Louvre in every way, but I was disappointed that no photography was permitted.  The Klimt exhibit was amazing, as I'd expected.  We walked through the gardens outside, lamented the fact that we didn't have someone there to take our picture (so there are no photos of the three of us in existence, which I think is sad), then decided to forgo public transportation and walk to the Prater, only 2.5 miles away.  This was mainly for Olive's benefit, since she'd never been to an amusement park before, but I was pretty keen on seeing the Ferris wheel, which has been in operation for over one hundred years.  I have a real thing for those structures and old amusement parks in general, and I liked that we were there in the off season while there weren't too many visitors, even through many of the rides weren't open.  That evening, craving some good, clean, meatless fare, we found a vegetarian Taiwanese restaurant called - don't laugh - Vegetasia.  We ate like kings there, savoring every bite of our mock-meat dishes, steamed vegetable dumplings, miso soup, and sorbet for dessert.  It certainly wasn't local fare, but it was the best food I ate in the entire two weeks.

The next day, Rob's birthday, we went to the Tiergarten Schönbrunn, Vienna's zoo, the oldest in the world.  While not as impressed initially, we found the deeper we explored the grounds the better the exhibits became.  The orangutan enclosures were exquisite, to say the least.  It made us so happy to see the amount of space, the enrichment, and cleanliness that those particular animals were given.  Rob was especially delighted to see a mixed exhibit of his all-time favorite trifecta of species: tapirs, capybaras, and giant anteaters.  I kept thinking of how much he'd love to be in the position of caring for these animals and began to encourage him to learn German and apply for a job there.  

Prague.  Through couchsurfing.org we found the most compatible and gracious hostess, Marie, who met us at the train station when we arrived.  She gave us her bedroom, which doubled as the living area in the flat she shared with her brother (their parents lived on the ground floor), made us a simple but delicious dinner of beet and cabbage soup, and gave Olive books and toys to play with.  The next day she accompanied us downtown to the Mucha Museum, which was a big inspiration for me to go to Prague in the first place.  Having spent her entire life in Prague, Marie had never been to the little museum and was eager to tag along.  I could have spent the whole day there just ogling the works, absorbing the colors, tracing his delicate and meticulous lifework with my eyes, fawning over the beauty of every mark he made.  Marie, also a fan, described his work as "kitsch", which I could understand.  While not exactly fine art, his work was very commercial and still tends to be.  Still, I can help but  adore the elegance of it, and all around the city were echoes of his influence in the Art Nouveau decor that adorned the buildings.  

Best of all, though, was having over two weeks of completely uninterrupted time with Rob and Olive and to be able to turn it into such an adventure.  Some people were skeptical about the idea of us bringing a two year-old to Europe, and there were certainly times before we left when I wondered if I might later regret the decision, but having her along made it better, not to mention proved that international travel with a young toddler isn't as daunting a task as one might presume.  We crammed in a lot in two weeks but it never felt like too much, and looking back on it, through the hundreds of pictures we took, it really was the perfect family vacation.

Oh, and there are no pictures because the ones I would've posted here are already on Facebook.  It's taken me this long just to post about the trip and if I went to the trouble of adding photos this would never get done, so here it is.

Things a Sweet Girl Says

I've hit a block while typing a blog about our trip.  I'm trying to keep it concise while wanting to include the highlights (which were abundant).  In the meantime, here are a few recent sayings from Olive:

-While on our longish drive from Dingle, on the west coast of Ireland, back to Dublin, she was making requests for me to draw things for her - Papa, me, a cup of yogurt - and when I handed her the pad with the sketch of a strawberry yogurt she praised my efforts: "Ah, good job, Mom!"  "Mom" has become a sort of saying with her, much like man or dude, and doesn't apply necessarily to me.  I'm still "Mama" to her, for now.

-When leaving Marie's house in Prague (Marie hosted us through couchsurfing.org), she began wishing her a happy birthday (we'd just come off of Rob's and my birthdays and she was finally prepared to wish someone a happy one, even if it was two months early).

-Yesterday I told her I liked her blue eyes.  "I like your brown eyes!," she replied.

-"Oh, beautiful Gray!," she's been saying lately to our cat, Wendell.  It wasn't an adjective we'd ever used in reference to him, that's for sure.  Not that he's not a handsome cat, but his dopey ways override his good looks.

-Overheard while playing with her Quantum Leap globe (If anyone knows a kid that is passionate about geography, I suggest getting this toy.  It's great).  "Mongolia!  Good job, Mom!"  She's also been asking for help locating "Opiopia" (Ethiopia), bringing me back to the time in my childhood when I couldn't get enough of our globe and finding the countries in Africa.  She's delighted that she can pick out Prague and Vienna amongst the crowded mass that is Europe.  Despite bringing her at such a young age, I believe she'll retain quite a bit of it, as long as we continue to revisit through stories and photographs.

-She's proving to be an effective tool for quitting my near-lifelong nail biting habit.  Today in the car while I was gnawing on a fingernail she chirped from the back seat, "Don't put your fingers in your mouth!"  Busted.

-While waiting at the post office this morning she was saying, to no one in particular, "Hi.  My name is Wanda."  We're not sure where this Wanda business came from, but it wasn't the first time she'd made an appearance.

Itinerary

Being the sort who is most productive when time is slipping away from me (we leave on Monday), I've just about nailed down all of the details of our trip.  For those who are curious, here's our schedule:

October 1: Fly overnight from Pittsburgh and arrive in Dublin in the morning (what will feel like 3:45 am to us.  I'm dreading this part.
October 2: Rent a car and drive west to Galway and stay with my boss, Lisa's, aunt.  Here we'll explore the coast and take in the scenery that, for reasons still not clear, never called to me.  I think it's the food that's been the biggest deterrent - so boiled, so white.
October 4: Return to Dublin and stay the night.
October 5: Take ferry to London.  Spend the night.  That's it.
October 6: Take train to Paris.  I'm excited about this one.  I've been told many times that I should go.  I love the language and feel like I know enough of it to get by without needed to be coddled in English.  I know how the French are, and I like it.  The Louvre and Musée d'Orsay are biggies, as are the catacombs, a tour of the sewers, and, at Bruce's urging, St. Chapelle.
October 8: Take train to Salzburg.  Austria alone was the driving force behind this trip - for me, at least.  After hearing Gi-Gi speak so fondly of it I developed my own vicarious interest, bolstered by my love of The Sound of Music.  It goes without saying that we're signed up for the four-hour official tour on the 9th.  I decided that we should stay an extra day to take in the magnificent landscape of Alps and lakes.
October 10: Take train to Vienna.  This is a city that, thanks in large part to John Irving, my favorite writer, many of whose novels are set there, also lodged itself in my imagination and became a destination I longed to visit.  It stands to reason that I should want to spend my birthday in both Austrian cities because, you know, you only turn thirty-one once.  Vienna is home to the work of some of my favorite artists - Gustave Klimt and Egon Schiele, specifically - from the Secessionist movement. Cool, weird, beautiful stuff.  There's also the Prater, the hundred year-old amusement park, and the zoo, and the Opera House (from 'The Hotel New Hampshire!')
October 13: Take train to Prague.  I set my sights on this city because of - why else? - the Mucha Museum.  Alphonse Mucha, a prominent figure in Art Nouveau, was Czech and many of his works can be seen around the city.  Prague itself, from what I've heard and seen in pictures, is stunning, but I needed no other reason to go.  We're also staying with Marie, a woman who offered to share her bedroom with us in the flat she shares with her brother and cats.  This will be extra fun.
October 16: Fly to Dublin and stay the night.
October 17: Fly to Pittsburgh.

That's it in a nutshell.  I'm growing more and more eager as October gets closer.  We have our cat-sitter and rides to and from the airport arranged.  Rent has been paid.  My pal Alex has the stand covered, and Olive, that funny kid, decided to quit taking naps at the most opportune time.  Not that she won't be completely thrown out of whack by the jet lag, so it probably won't make a difference either way.

See?  Just like Rob and me.  Maybe if he's feeling extra sweet he'll reenact that scene from the movie that's always made me feel ill.  Of course he will.

Rob Cramer, Eater of Cats

We're entering into the phase of funny things toddlers say.  I knew it was coming, having a handful of nieces and a nephew whose innocently witty utterances occur on a regular basis.  I wasn't home to witness it this morning, but here is Rob's account:

This morning while I was looking at the crossword puzzle, Olive walked up to me and deposited something imaginary into my hand. Usually when she does this, it is an imaginary culinary delight that she whipped up in her kitchen (she has been experimenting with cabbage dishes lately) so naturally I popped the invisible gift into my mouth. She stopped and stared at me a little strangely and said, "Poppa just ate a little kitty." Oops!

That she didn't just play along with the charade was what got me laughing.  That thing she'd placed in his hand had been a kitty all along to her - why couldn't he see that?  Even she knows that in our house we don't eat little kitties.  Her father's behavior was perplexing, indeed.

Pittsburgh Alternative Health

Yesterday I had an amazing experience at Pittsburgh Alternative Health.  I had the EAV test done and it was pretty enlightening.  I looked all over for what EAV means and finally came across this, and it stands for Electro Acupuncture by Voll.  A simpler way to explain the procedure is this: you hold a copper rod in your left hand and the naturopath takes a conical metal device and presses it into pressure points on the fingers of your right hand.  The machine is hooked up to the computer so I was able to watch it read my responses to every sort of food, additive, and environmental influence imaginable.  I worried that I might learn about a dozen things to which my body responds negatively and have to severely amend my lifestyle, so I was relieved to find out that only a few things upset the harmony of my body: MSG (a total non-issue), dioxin (a byproduct of burning plastic, which hardly comes as a surprise and, being that I live in a city with some of the worst air in the country, is hard to avoid), mold (also expected since we live in an old house where mold spores are plentiful), wheat (though fortunately not gluten), shellfish (also something I avoid anyway), grapes, and raisins.  These final two were more surprising; I've never heard of grape intolerance, but there it is.  I've enjoyed grapes most of the summer, and raisins are staples for my oatmeal, but I'll get by.  At least oatmeal's not off the table.  I'm looking into getting an air purifier and will do my best to avoid the things on the list (at least while not in Europe; all bets are off there) to allow my body to better combat whatever it is that's been attacking my lower extremities.  I have high hopes that modifying my diet will alleviate the problem.  And for anyone interested in improving their total well-being, I highly recommend visiting your local naturopath and having this procedure performed.  It's fascinating.

Playing Hooky

I've been surprised to learn lately how early children are heading off to "school".  From as early as a year I've known little ones whose parents sent them away during the week to environments of learning and, while I do see the merit in theory of this, I still can't help but to shake my head in disbelief.  I remember going to pre-school at three before starting kindergarten at four, then proceeding to first grade and so on, but earlier than three just makes me wonder. While something about this just wasn't sitting right with me I felt like my reservations about it may be rooted more in my unfamiliarity with that schedule and my feeling that some children simply aren't quite ready to be tossed into those sorts of social settings before a certain age.  I've been asked countless times by friends and acquaintances whether I've found a preschool for Olive, even though this was never a consideration from the start for us.  Then I came across this article.  While I by no means take this study as the only right way, it sure did make a lot of sense to me.  Olive thrives in a home learning environment and gets on well with all sorts of folks, though she could still use a little work in the peer department since her interactions occur largely with adults.  The bit about peers wanting to mimic one another and feel the need to be like others in order to fit in really resonated with me, though.  When I was a teacher I witnessed proof of that on a daily basis - far more than seemed healthy or appropriate, and I'd much prefer for my child to not be burdened with the premature pressure to be like someone else.  Regardless of your stance on childhood education, I feel like it's worth the read.

My Lazy Summer

Finding myself with all the laundry folded and dishes done and two hours to kill before I'm off work, I figured I'd take some time for a little writing.  It's not that I've had nothing eventful going on my my life to inspire me - I've simply been lazy.  Too lazy to upload the pictures from my camera, that's for sure.  In my down time I've been happier to hang around with Rob watching episodes of Big Love while Olive's asleep.  That show is fascinating.  Mindboggling.  It makes me even happier that I'm only married to one man and not two other women, to boot.  It makes me appreciate the simplicity of our lives and marriage.

Anyway, our past few weeks have been busy and fun-filled.  Several weeks ago we took a two-day trip down to West Virginia to my parents' lovely and tranquil lake house where we gathered with my folks, my sister and three (soon to become four!) children, and my brother, Taylor.  We enjoyed the scenery, taking walks through the woods, Rob and Olive did some kayaking, the kids played in the lake, and the adults enjoyed games every night as we always do. 

Last week we hosted a 30th birthday party for my good pal, Keith.  We grilled homemade sausages and fresh salmon that Keith's girlfriend, Alex, had just brought back with her from Alaska (she and her father made the sausage; her brother-in-law had just caught the salmon).  To top it off, Alex decided to not take a job in New York City in favor of staying in this wonderful little city of ours!  This was probably the best news I'd received all summer because, MAN, was I getting tired of friends up and leaving. 

To celebrate a day off for both Rob and me, something that rarely happens, we decided to go up to Presque Isle State Park on Lake Erie.  We live just over two hours away and I'd never visited that particular Great Lake and it seemed the perfect day to go.  The weather was glorious and we enjoyed what was probably the last day we'd get into a natural body of water this year.  It really was beautiful up there, through Erie, Pennyslvania is (and no dissage to lovers or natives of the town) a major eyesore.  The beach was pleasant except for the pebbly strip at the water's edge; my feet were tender that night and the next day.  Olive went back and forth between the shore and lake, periodically dipping in to wash off her hands. We nibbled all day on apples and almonds, our only provisions since I'd left the bag of seven peanut butter or almond butter and jelly sandwiches behind on the kitchen counter. On the way home we listened to the Sound of Music sountrack and I fought back tears during every song.  After getting the soundtrack earlier this summer I realized I couldn't listen to it without choking up.  You see, my beloved Gi-Gi, who died almost exactly three years ago, really enjoyed those songs, too, and my association with them is so deeply rooted in my memories of hearing those songs when I was with her, so many years ago.  She loved the film and loved visiting Austria, so I did, too - or believed I did - and that's why I'm finally going to see the place she adored.  That said, it's hard to believe that our trip is not even a month away.  We have so much planning to do! 

I've started searching for retail spaces again for the business.  We'd back-burnered the idea for a while since I was satisfied with my 3-day workweek doing olive oil, but sometimes it's not good to wait too long because opportunities can pass.  I was able to look at several really promising spaces just down the street from where we live in the adjacent neighborhood.  Aside from requiring a lot of cosmetic work (new floors, ceilings, lighting), they were just the sort of spaces I'd always had in mind.  I have no idea how I'm going to fund this endeavor, but people take on projects like this all the time so it's just a matter of doing the work to get the loans to get it off the ground.  It's just unfortunate that this isn't the sort of work that really interests me.  But I do know what I want, so there's that.

And the most exciting bit of news of all?  Today I made an appointment with a naturopath who came highly recommended by my sister.  I have not been able to make heads or tails of this blasted itchy leg disease (that's what it has to be - a disease) that's about to drive me round the bend.  I lose so much sleep over this and wake up with blood-smeared scratches all up and down my legs.  It's terrible.  Having thankfully ruled out the possibility of a thyroid disorder, I can only assume now that it's something in my diet or in my environment.  I got some Gold Bond extra-strength anti-itch lotion that feels positively heavenly about a minute after it's applied, but somehow seems to exacerbate the problem after I've gone to sleep.  No good.  Nina, smart girl that she is, suggested Calamine lotion, so I slathered hanfuls of the pink stuff from my ankles up to my thighs and am experiencing some relief - the best temporary solution to date.  So during my appointment with the naturopath on the 17th I will have a test done that will determine any of my body's sensitivities or intolerances.  I feel confident that this will give me the answer I've been needing.  Oh, do I ever hope it does!

Dexter

My friend, Colin, commissioned me to do this cat portrait for him as a gift for a friend.  Cats are easy and work up quickly, as it turns out.  Here he is, all done and ready to go.  This is the most artwork I've done in 2012, hands down.  Now I have another project to begin: a double portrait of two children that someone had won in a silent auction for the Midwife Center.  It's going to be fun.   Christmas is the deadline I set for myself (between working painstakingly slowly in watercolor, juggling my two jobs, and our European vacation, I think that's a reasonable timeframe).

Our Weed

Lately people have been commenting on Buggy's height.  Sure, she seems tall, but folks seem surprised to hear that she's only two and a half.  At just a bit under 36 inches, I just learned that she's beating the average of 33" for a three year-old girl by a good margin (and an inch shy of the 37" average for a four year-old).  Huh.  It must be all of those almonds and kale that she so loves.  Still, I'm not going to jump to conclusions about our child's ultimate height; my pediatrician declared to my mother, when I was two, that I'd grow to be six feet.  Yeah.  So in all likelihood she'll do her growing early and level off by the time she's twelve.

Sweet girl-goon.