German Memory Pancakes

When I was growing up, we had a beautiful home, and my mom ran it well. There was always something deliciously homemade cooking in the kitchen.  Sometimes, especially in the fall and winter, I am transported back to my childhood home, just by a particular smell or thought.  Recently, we made german pancakes for breakfast.  And if you promise not to look at the bottom of my oven, I'll tell you about it.

Sarah and Ellie wanted to peek in through the glass.  They decided that we were having Rocky Mountain Pancakes for breakfast!  And the one on the right is Pike's Peak, just in case you were wondering.

Sir Michael, His Highness, waits patiently for his meal, while learning how to tell time on that vintage Tomy owl clock.  No, not really, he just pushes the buttons hard and laughs.  And he never goes anywhere important without his blankie. But just so you know, I didn't let him eat breakfast on anything else but his tray.

Hot mixed berries and puff pancakes.  How's that for an awesome autumn morning?

Battles in my Backyard

I remember the days when guns were a no-no and even foam swords were discouraged in our home.  Then over time, after watching our boys continually bite their toast into guns and use branches to chop down the 'forest' outside in search of the bad guys, we realized we were being silly. Really, boys were meant to protect, hunt, and battle.  So, over the years our collection of man-stuff has grown.  At our old home, we had a large shelf in the garage just for storing homemade weapons. Broken broom handles, outdated floor lamps, tops of end tables, and scraps of wood found themselves being transformed into something useful.  And cool.  And manly.
This week Sammy invited a few friends over for an air-soft battle.  Air-soft is a gentler form of BB's.  The boys played hard, came in and ate, then played hard again.  Then of course, they wanted more food. And after everyone had gone home, I got to see the welts on their arms and legs from the pellets.  I can't say I like it always, and this day had a bit too much testosterone for me, but they had a great time, and they're still talking about it. And I am not sure I want to know what all of our quiet empty-nester neighbors thought.  Quite a change from the widow who owned this home for 32 years before us!

When You're the Youngest of Ten

• You get to use the laptop and sit in your older sister's favorite chair with her favorite blanket, just because you're the baby brother.
• You usually will end up with an extra cookie or two or three because you're so darn cute and you just keep walking around saying 'cookie' and nobody knows you already had one.
• When your baggy pants fall off (again and again), they stay off for quite some time.  Because everyone is either too busy to help you or they think it's so funny they decide to keep them off.
• Your older siblings insist that they had it so much harder and that you are getting away with everything.  They're certain these injustices not only ruined their childhood, but will also lead to your being spoiled and whimpy.
• You really don't know what it means to be alone.  If you wander outside for some fresh air, you are joined by a half-dozen siblings. If you silently head for a bedroom to play with something forbidden, you do not have long until you're found out and moved elsewhere.
• You get extra kisses and squeezes, because Mommy and Daddy are old and you may just be the last baby in the house.
• You rarely get a good night's sleep. As the evening progresses and you lie in your bed, one by one, your brothers and sisters come in to say goodnight to Mom and Dad, and then they see you being so cute in your crib that they just have to talk to you and re-tuck you in. And those same friends will be there to greet you early in the morning! And you love every minute of it.

  

  
  

  I think Michael would say that being the baby of the family most certainly has it's perks!

Sammy is Losing His Slicker

We have lived in town forever. Most of our church families live out.  In fact, our 15 year-old Sammy has often had banterings with his buddies over the differences between a country boy and a city slicker.  Sam was the city slicker.  He could read, but couldn't shoot a gun.  He could play music, but didn't own camo.  You get the point. But now, after just a few weeks 'out', he is losing it.

• He offered to shoot the magpies out of our new cherry tree, with a smile on his face.
• He and his dad set up a huge work bench area in the outbuilding, complete with circular saw.  Yes, the Sargents have an outbuilding. 
• The other night, he came upstairs grinning from ear to ear, and told me there was a dead rabbit in the freezer.  My freezer.  With our extra bread in it.  He and our pastor's boys had each shot one with BB guns, and our pastor's sons walked Sam through the skinning, washing, cutting, and freezing.  All while the rest of us were ignorantly unpacking boxes. Friday I found the little critter in my fridge.  In a ziploc baggie.  Soaking in Sam's homemade brine.  Uh-huh. Then Saturday, Sammy found a recipe for Rabbit Stew, and away he went.  He was ranting and raving and flying through the room, concocting his first batch of homemade anything.  The kitchen smelled heavenly, and everyone liked it so much I didn't even get a bite.  Yah, okay, I admit I wasn't exactly the first one in line, but still...

So it looks as if Sammy Sargent is seriously losing his slicker and turning into a country boy.  And he's having a great time doing it.

Until the Dust Settles

The construction crews have been here, and things are slowly moving forward!  Our garage is on it's way to becoming the GREAT room.  I have never seen Kenny so excited for anything related to the home! I think someone stole my old husband and replaced him with an exact replica, only with one who wants to do projects around the house! He took Sam out to Home Depot the other night and came back with a new set of tools and a big grin.  I just about fell over.

For a number of weeks still, we will have the noise and dust of power tools and boxes full of books waiting to be taken out and shelved in our new room.

This is what you'd see if you walked in from the back porch.

Looking over the half-wall, from the kitchen nook into the garage.  

Another view from the kitchen nook.  This half-wall used to be a full wall with the door to the garage.

Simple Childhood

There is nothing like a little child to show us how to live!

To bring an uninhibited freshness to our many tasks and lists.

To remind us that there is much joy to be found in simplicity.

I am so enjoying the space that we now have with our new home.

I am thrilled to watch my littles explore and tire themselves out day after day.

Bumps and bruises are in abundance, as they remind us how pleasurable it is to play hard.

Lunch fresh on his face, bumps on his head, a foil stick in his hand, no pants.

This little man knows how to live!