Summer Kid Crafts: Make Some Tracks

This was a huge success this week, I'm just warning you now.

It's so simple I can describe it in two sentences: Take cardboard tubes of different sizes and cut them in half lengthwise. Stick some adhesive-backed magnet strips on the tubes then stick them on the refrigerator and you've got an adjustable, very fun, very cool ping pong ball track.

The kids built different tracks all afternoon, sending the ping pong ball running down through the maze over and over again and trying to get more complex paths each time.

Wrapping paper tubes, toilet paper tubes, paper towel tubes, they're all useful and the kids found ways to send the ball falling down through tubes of all sizes onto the ramps and then into safe capture at the end by putting two ramps into a V shape.

Now if only we could find a good hoop to stick up there and set to flaming. . . .

Sponsored by Polkadot Peacock for children's bedding.

Meet Ben Schneider, an Alaskan Yurt Dad

Here's a quick introduction to our manly guest writer Ben Schneider from Eagle River, Alaska--give him a warm welcome and take a peek at his interesting life.

***

So what is a man doing blogging for a motherhood magazine? Well, I’m a man doing his best to wallow his way through a woman’s world. I have a degree in elementary education and have been a preschool teacher. I know how to knit (sort of), sew (sort of), and am a stay-at-home parent--cooking for my family every day and making my big break into the crafting world.

I do, however, make attempts at clinging to my masculinity. I ski (or try to). I build stuff (see www.eagleriverpuzzles.com) and I hang out with other stay-at-home dads where I begin every statement made about parenting with the word “dude.”

“Dude, I just started potty training my oldest and it’s rocking me.”

But, I think my most manly characteristic is that I built and live in a yurt which is a 30-foot diameter tent. It houses my whole family: my wife, Nicki; my three and a half year-old son, Leo; my baby baby daughter, Kaya; two dogs, and two gold fish. It’s cozy but we all fit. Having a yurt as a home is our attempt at simplifying our lives.

Okay, not too simplified--there is a dishwasher inside and a two-car garage beneath. But besides being a fun, offbeat abode living in a yurt has also taught me that you can raise a family with a lot less square footage and a lot less stuff than I previously thought (you can see what I mean by visiting our family’s yurt-blog).

We have been in Alaska for two years and think it's the best place on earth, where else can you easily ski six months out of the year and start summer hikes at 10:00pm?

Being outside with our children is how we feel time is best spent; big excursions are great but small walks in the woods are just a meaningful and fun. We hope to be here for a very long time.

Thanks for letting me wallow and I hope I’m able to add some unique perspective to motherhood. And if you ever need someone to help you pick out some cute baby outfits . . . I know some moms who would love to help.

***

Congratulations to our five Anchorage winners Tammy, Laurel, Amanda, Michelle and another Michelle (all of Anchorage, obviously) who have picked up fabulous movie packages with tickets to the Despicable Me sneak preview! See you at the movies. . . .

Sponsored by Dimples and Dandelions for Serena and Lily baby bedding.

So How Busy Are You Really?

I bet if I stood in downtown Anchorage with a clipboard and pencil, asking every person the generic "How's your day?" question, nine times out of ten I'd get the same response.

"Busy!" They'd say. Because when I ask people I know in real life how they're doing, ninety percent of the time that's the answer they give me.

It stumps me a bit when I hear someone comment on how busy they are. Is everyone I know busy? What are they doing to keep them so busy--so consistently busy? Sometimes they'll elaborate with an example of their frantic daily schedule, proving to me that they are, in fact, terribly busy. Sometimes they'll just leave "busy" without any explanation as if it's some vague yet wholly complete state of being--no explanation necessary. But they never say the word in a pleasant way, as if they're excited to be capable of the miracle of life, locomotion and rational thought, it's always said with just a hint of exasperation, fatigue, or irritation--take your pick--as if the question itself is an unwanted interruption.

Maybe my acquaintances are just busier than the average human but I doubt it.

I've thought about it and I've come to believe that we all have been taken in. We've been scammed, we've swallowed the non sequitur that if you're busy then you must be important. Important equals busy so busy equals important. The busier you are the more in demand you are, the more people want you, the more valuable your allotment of hours is. Someone who isn't busy, who has just enough hours in the day to accomplish exactly what they set out to do after rising from their bed well-rested and happy, who goes through the week unharried from the demands of others is unwanted, unnecessary and unrespected.

It's a simple case of the law of supply and demand being horribly misconstrued, crossing over into our social order in ways it was never meant to--kind of like social Darwinism--and with equally nasty and unpleasant results.

Instead of busy-ness being a sign of disorganization, the inability to prioritize, a tendency to take too much on and a misuse of our most valuable resource (i.e. time) busy-ness has come to be honored as a sign of prestige and power which doesn't make sense to me. I don't admire people who run about from one task to the next with little time in between for humanity but we've been brainwashed to think that they're productive and efficient when most likely they're just cursed with twitchy leg syndrome. Or whatever the social equivalent of not being able to sit still is.

Sure it's great to be involved in your community, to be challenging yourself by learning new things, to be creative and enthusiastic but nowadays, more often than not, being busy tends to cross the line into needless chores that always seem to take longer than they should, leaving us racing through red lights, grabbing junk food from vending machines and keeping us from connecting with those around us. And why? So we can maintain an enviable lifestyle. To make our kids smarter or more talented than their counterparts, to make our houses and toys bigger and better than the neighbors' or to be higher on the corporate ladder than the next guy--which all require even more work to maintain. It's the cruel and horrible cycle that kills with certainty.

So slow down. Don't be so darn busy. After all, everyone around you thinks they're busier than you are anyway so maybe you should allow them to be--give them a cut in line or a smile as they merge ahead of you on the freeway. Let your kids have time to be kids and spend a day at play without the constant stream of lessons and sports events. If you have to multi-task then multi-task but first make sure each task is worth doing before investing so many precious minutes of your day on it.

And for goodness sake, when someone asks you how you're doing, don't say, "Busy!" We've heard it too many times to take it seriously anyway.

Sponsored by Beau-Coup for unique baby shower favors.

Chicken Caesar Wraps

Ah, the tortilla. Possibly nature's most perfect food.

It's like the sandwich bag of the food world, stick something in it and you've got an instant on-the-road meal.

I recently got a new cookbook (well, new to me) all about wraps and this chicken caesar recipe was pretty darn good. Nothing too earth-shattering, just a way to take your salad with you everywhere. Quite an American concept really.

In fact, if you think about it, the concept of the wrap is diametrically opposed to the Mexican way of life and everything that Mexico stands for. I think that if the country responsible for canonizing the siesta had any idea that Americans would take their perfect food and then use it as a way to eat on the run they would have forbidden anyone north of the Rio Grande to ever touch a tortilla.

Finding ways to eat faster and with greater mobility doesn't exactly sound like a Latino thing to me. But these wraps are tasty anyway--just don't eat them on the go. Take some time to sit down and slowly enjoy each bite, preferably with family or friends gathered around. If you won't do it for me, do it for the Mexicans.

2 1/2 tablespoons mustard
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 tablespoons lime juice
2 teaspoons orange juice concentrate
2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon minced garlic
salt and pepper to taste
6 tablespoons olive oil plus more for brushing chicken
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese (fresher the better)
1 pound chicken breast
4 cups chopped romaine lettuce
1/2 cup croutons of your choice
4 large flour tortillas

Preheat grill.

Combine the mustard, juices, concentrate, Worcestershire sauce, garlic and 1/2 teaspoon salt in a bowl. Gradually beat in the olive oil until thoroughly combined. Stir in the cheese and set it aside.

Brush your chicken breasts with oil and grill until done. Once cooked through, slice into strips on the bias.

Lay out the tortillas and brush each with the dressing mix to taste and divide lettuce and croutons among them. Divide out the chicken. Salt and pepper to taste, roll and eat.

Sponsored by Sorella Jewelry Studio for fine personalized jewelry.

Despicable Me Preview

You know I love a good movie and while this summer promises to have some goodies I'm especially up to see Despicable Me with the voice skills of Mr. Steven Carell who plays the ultimate super-villain who is trying to outwit his opponent by stealing the moon.

Who's with me?

I hope you all are because I have I got a treat for you. Universal Pictures is offering tickets to a special sneak peak on Tuesday July 6th for you loyal fans out there.

Question #1: Where is this sneak peak of which you speak?

Answer: Here in Anchorage at the Century 16 Theaters on Tuesday July 6th.

Question #2: So do I have to fly to Anchorage to get in on the action?

Answer: Sadly, yes. You must be here in town to see the flick. But just think--if you flew all that way for the preview not only would you get tickets to a fun movie but you'd have a vacation to Alaska to go with it. How's that for perfect?

Question #3: So how many tickets are you giving away exactly?

Answer: I'm giving out 5--count them 5--fabulous movie packages. Each fabulous movie package will have four tickets to the movie plus assorted movie gear (hats, posters, pens, shirts, books, that kind of stuff for which I'm assured you will most definitely swoon).

Question #4: Is it in 3D? The movie that is--not the stuff. The movie gear is quite obviously three dimensional.

Answer: Yes! It's available in 3D and I expect that the sneak preview will also be the 3D version.

Question #5: So when does the rest of the planet get to see this film if you are going to a sneak preview?

Answer: July 9th. Though I doubt the rest of the planet could fit in the available theater space at once. They'll have to spread things out a bit.

So if you're going to be in Anchorage on July 6th and would like to see the movie at the special screening with me and if you follow the directions below this cute little trailer then you too may be one of the four lucky winners of one these fabulous movie packages. Good luck! I'll announce winners on Tuesday next.

Here's how to win:

Before 12 am Monday morning go to the giveaway entry form on this page and enter your name and email. I will pick one of the names at random, contact the winner via their email and publish the winner's first name and home town in next Tuesday's post. See the bottom of the entry form for more details.

This giveaway is open to all Anchorage residents. Good luck!

Cricket, Anyone?

So are you watching the World Cup? Speaking of sports that Americans rarely watch and haven't a clue about . . . seen any good cricket matches lately?

If you're on this side of the Atlantic you're probably thinking, "Heh, yea--don't try to con me, I know no one actually plays cricket. It's just a myth. Kind of like Big Foot or the Yeti or something like that."

But no--I'm serious. Cricket is a very big deal in India. VERY big deal. So big that the place practically shuts down when they play their arch-rival, Pakistan.

In fact, forget Lakers-Celtics face-offs, forget legendary USSR-USA Olympic battles, in sports it is the India-Pakistan competition that gets the title of Most Ferocious Rivalry in all of sports. Hundreds of millions of viewers tune in when the two teams get together, making our Super Bowl look like Pee Wee football by comparison (with its mere 90 million spectators).

In fact, I suppose that if you were to sit both countries down and tell them that the world had voted and that whole pesky Kashmir issue was going to be decided by one big old cricket game I bet you 50 million rupees that both countries would agree.

Probably because cricket games can last longer than most wars. By the time the match would be wrapped up and officially called the Kashmir region might actually have eroded into a vast uninhabitable desert. In "first class" cricket games are played for three to five days with six hours of play each day but in "test match" cricket games are scheduled for five days and can run much longer--some as long as ten days. The fans would have to be loyal to deal with that kind of suspense.

I wonder . . . if you had tickets to a match would your seats qualify you to see all days of play or are tickets for one day only? Because that would truly stink.

While we were there in March we wanted to bring back something for each of our four children. The girls were easy, the marketplaces are filled with shiny and sparkly things, flowing fabrics and everything a girl would want to feel pretty but a boy? Something told me that they wouldn't appreciate an authentic dhoti or kurga.

The last day we were in Bangalore I was passing a shop that sold cricket gear and it hit me--sports have a way of crossing cultural boundaries and something told me that my two rabid sports fan would find cricket gear very, very cool.

David got an authentic cricket bat from my mother and we completed the set with a cricket ball (looks much like a croquet ball and is hard as a canon ball. Did I mention they catch barehanded? I cringe just thinking of it) and Spencer got a cricket jersey like you see above.

It made me feel kind of funny though--you can't walk through a mall here without seeing hundreds of kids all advertising their favorite team but when we asked how much the cricket shirt cost we were told, "Three hundred, fifty rupees--but most kids can't afford them at that price."

Three hundred and fifty rupees. That's about seven dollars and the average Indian kid can only dream of owning one. How many dollars are spent on overpriced sports memorabilia and a seven-dollar cricket shirt is too expensive? As I plopped down the cash and collected our purchase I felt a twinge of shame at being able to provide something for my child that millions of Indian kids would never be able to have--and would my child even appreciate it as much as his Indian counterparts?

So we bought it and then I worried--worried that we'd pull it out of the suitcase and he wouldn't like it. He's somewhat particular in his clothing tastes and I could see him thinking that none of the other kids at school were wearing cricket jerseys which meant they were uncool and non-wearable. I could see it happening. I worried that he wouldn't like his present and worried that it would be even more embarrassing to bring him something that children on the other side of the world would die for but he was too spoiled to appreciate.

The morning after we returned from our trip we had the great "opening of the suitcases" ceremony where the kids gathered around in anticipation. They knew that we'd brought them each back a little treat and one by one the gifts came out until the cricket shirt was the last thing unseen.

"Now I hope you like this," I started to say as I reached to the bottom where the shirt lay hidden, "In India this is very, very cool--it's kind of the equivalent of having a Chargers jersey if you lived in India. Kind of. Only much more cool. Did I mention this is cool?"

I handed him the shirt and . . . he loved it. His face said it all but any lingering doubts as to his feelings have since been thoroughly eliminated because each week I have to hunt him down, peel it off of his body and demand that he put it in the wash. For health and safety's sake if not for personal hygiene.

Yes, he loves his jersey and now he'd even like to catch a cricket match--or at least the first day of one. Sports really are the universal language.

P.S. I don't think they needed to stage this commercial--that street looks completely authentic. They probably just showed up at 7pm with a film crew and *presto* everything was ready to go.

Sponsored by Storkie.com for baby birth announcements

Summer Kid Crafts: Make a Marionette

Puppets are always in season--kids love making them and I love how a puppet of any shape can keep my kids entertained for long periods of time.

Yesterday Lily and I made little marionette puppets and they're surprisingly easy. Just string whatever you have on hand on strings to make limbs and a body then tie the strings on a handle to make them dance.

Here are some tips:

1. Collect junk around your house that can be easily strung. We used Styrofoam balls but you could use beads, spools, old scraps of wood, pompoms, even old jars or jar lids. Look around and see what you can come up with--if it doesn't have a hole already drill or punch one through.

2. String some items for feet/legs and some items for a body. We made arms by sticking pipe cleaners into the Styrofoam torso but it helps if you use things that have a bit of weight to them, particularly on the feet.


3. Tie knots at the end of the strings to keep the strung items from falling off then tie the other end to a stick. We used two dowls glued into an "X" shape but you could use any old sticks you can find--even wire or a piece of plastic. Another tip: make an "X" shape with your hanger and attach the body string to one arm of the X and the two leg or feet strings to two other arms of the X. Attaching the strings onto the hanger too closely together will make it hard to tilt the feet or body into motion.


4. Tie the feet to the main body--this is critical or you won't be able to control the feet very well. Attaching them to the main body keeps them from flying out all over the place. Just kind of eyeball it to see how long to make the strings or use what you see here for a guide.


Lillian made the little girl at the top but while she was gluing and stringing I went to work on my own set of puppets using some extra polymer clay I had lying around. You see above the princess and the frog and here is the king--and they turned out kind of cute I think. Except for the princess there--she looks pretty psychotic. Kind of a retro Mr. Bill look.


I poked holes through the pieces with a toothpick before baking and because I forgot to provide extra holes for attaching the feet to the body I used some teeny tiny eyebolts I had and screwed them into the body. You can see them if you look carefully.

Puppets are always fun.

Sponsored by Overstock.com for free online coupons.

Building Alaskan Hikers

While I take a break today (I promised the kids a walk on the beach and a trip to the library) I'm sharing with you another Alaskan blogger. Ben Schneider lives in Eagle River, outside of Anchorage, and blogs about his family, Alaska, and his yurt (What is a yurt? You'll have to just visit his blog to find out) because today he takes us hiking. . . .

***

Hiking, skiing, biking, and canoeing are things I do in order to keep sane--or I used to. I still get out, but it’s much more difficult now that I have kids and I now find myself wishing I could share those outdoor pursuits with my children. Not to just carry them around as another piece of equipment, but really share the experience. I recently had the chance to do just that with my oldest child.

My son, three and a half, looked out our window and said to me, “Papa, can we go up that mountain over there?”

I scooped him up, hugged him, and said, “No.” The mountain he was pointing to, Eagle Peak, would have been a 15 mile hike, 6000 feet of elevation gain, and require technical climbing skills.

“But, I know one that we can.”

Mount Baldy is Eagle River’s short-but-sweet, straight-up-the-mountain hike. The trail is about a mile long, climbs 1,300 feet, and offers the chance to see excellent views, bears, moose, marmots, and many different types of wildflowers. And, on one slightly rainy day in May you could have seen an excited dad walking beside his preschool-aged son, coaxing him up the mountain.

I set out on this adventure knowing that we might not make it to the top. My number one goal was to make it as positive an experience as possible and I wanted him to associate hiking up mountains with good times and to want to come back for more.

We stopped when he wanted; we poked holes in the ground with our hiking poles when he wanted; we ate, drank, watched bugs, rested, and swung from tree branches when he wanted.

I fought my usual urge to push and hurry up the mountain and I just let him go at his own pace. About two thirds of the way up he just sat down, poked holes in the ground for the twentieth time, and refused to go any further--I knew he needed some extra motivation to keep going and make it to the top. With my selfish drive to get to there and not knowing what else to do, I did it. I brought out the big guns.

“If you get to the top I’ll give you the brownie in my backpack.”

Bribery, it worked and I’m not sorry about it.

Everyone hiking up the mountain that day picked up the pace a little bit because of the brownie in my backpack. No one wanted to be passed by this little preschooler as he charged up the trail. When we crested the top he demanded his brownie and I happily gave it to him.

We spent the next half hour sitting at the top eating food, pretending the rocks were different parts of our house (kitchen and bedroom) and then made our way slowly and carefully back down. He slid down on his bottom every chance he could.

It was a fantastic shared adventure. We both thoroughly enjoyed ourselves but for much different reasons. I was able to get to the top of something and look out over a beautiful vista. My son was able to swing on branches, poke holes in the dirt, find small pieces of trash (treasure), throw snowballs at his dad, and get as dirty as he possibly could. It wasn’t as ambitious and didn’t have the same pace as the trips I’d taken before kids, but it was a shared experience. It was his first unassisted hiking trip up a mountain and one of many more shared adventures to come.

Sponsored by Sorella Jewelry Studio for fine personalized jewelry.

Teaching with Song

When I was a kid I didn't have an alarm clock, I had a mother who knew Rodgers and Hammerstein.

Oh what a beautiful morning
Oh what a beautiful day!
I've got a wonderful feeling
Everything's going my way!

Yes, at the time it was highly irritating to be awoken in such fashion but it usually worked in getting me out of bed. In fact, Mom seemed to have a song to fit every occasion and I grew up hearing everything from Cole Porter to Ray Charles and it took years before I was able to sort them all out into their proper titles and origins.

My father, on the other hand, stuck to singing the Beatles (he was particularly fond of shocking Mom with singing loudly, "Why don't we do it in the road? No one will be watching us, WHYYYYY don't we do it in the road?") and other such bawdy ballads. We, of course, were ignorant of the subtleties of meaning and merely enjoyed seeing Mom squawk at him to mind his manners in front of the children but part of our initiation into the full Alaskan camping experience was to hear him singing "Queenie" while behind the wheel. Here's a sampling:

There's a burlesque the-atre where the gang likes to go
To see Queenie, the cutie of the bur-lesque show.
But the thrill of the evening is when out Queenie skips;
And the band plays the polka while she strips, strips, strips.
"Take it off! Take it off!" Rose a cry from the rear.
"Take it off! Take it off!" Was all you could hear.
But she's always a lady, even in pantomime;
And she stops . . . but only just in time!

It's an old 1942 Andrews Sisters' song but to me it was just a fun family tradition to sing it whenever we were heading out camping and the point of all this is that music, culturally speaking, is as important to our collective and individual consciousness as words and reading are.

No parent has any doubts as to the importance of reading to your children, of how it improves language and cognitive skills and encourages creativity but in many ways singing to your children is just as important. Studies show that singing to babies and toddlers before they can read improves their ability to recognize patterns in language, distinguish phonics, enjoy the beauty of language--even understand spacial relations. The tones and repetition are even thought to help nervous system development and all sorts of other helpful issues but besides all of the physiological, educational and psychological reasons to sing with your children, it's a huge way that you bond over a shared cultural experience.

I know that's a silly sentence but what I'm saying is that passing on songs to your children is no different than passing on stories or memories. That while they're learning about tone and language and singing they'll also be accumulating cultural information that helps them feel connected to you and to society.

Think about what music means in your own life. What song was played at your prom? ("Stairway to Heaven") When was the first time you heard a U2 song? ("Where the Streets Have No Names," played on the New Seward Highway coming home from a research project at the library) What songs were popular your freshman year of college? What song did they play at your wedding? What songs remind you of your spouse or past relationships?

Sing to your kids and teach them your favorite songs. Teach them some that are silly, some that are old-fashioned, some that they won't hear on the radio today. Just like kids should grow up knowing the fairy tales and Mother Goose and the alphabet they need to know "Ring Around a Rosy," "The Hokey Pokey," "Pop Goes the Weasel" and "I've Been Working on the Railroad." They should know show tunes and Beatles songs and even a few country classics here and there (though in moderation--always in moderation. It is still country music, after all, and must be administered carefully).

Introduce them to different kinds of music and sing to them when they can't run away--like in the car. When the kids were little I made a habit of keeping the radio off and using the time to sing together or (if I was really tired) I'd put in a CD that did the job for me so all I had to do was sing along. Sing before bedtime and sing to wake them up. Have songs for bath time and songs for bed time and if you don't know of any make some up. That's how such classics as "Mad Grizzly" developed in our house.

Every kid should be able to have their own songs like "Queenie" that make them smile and remember home.

***

And speaking of music appreciation . . . there are great concerts going on all summer long in Anchorage. Tuesdays at noon at the library are always great for some culture and I informed the children last week that we'd be going to the Taiko drum performance. They grumbled and did the "Do we have to?" thing (to which I said "Yes!") and it turns out that--who knew?--Taiko drums are actually really "sick." Spencer dragged his feet going in but was tapping by the time we left.

Tomorrow they're presenting a selection of operatic arias and we're going again though they're highly skeptical about the whole situation. They'll thank me eventually.

Sponsored by Polkadot Peacock for children's bedding.

Oreo Ice Box Cake

I took a bunch of my old books into Title Wave, our neighborhood used book store, and I'd planned on letting the kids use my credit to get a couple of books each but as luck (or ill luck for them) would have it I went alone to turn in the books and on the way out I stalled at the cook book section.

Now I hadn't planned on getting anything for myself, I'd planned on sacrificing it all for the kids but when I saw all those glossy covers and beautiful meals it was more than I could resist and I ended up blowing it all on a stack of new cook books.

Hehe. I guess they'll benefit indirectly, right? I will only (and I repeat, only) buy cook books that have pictures. Lots of pictures--one for each recipe is required unless the book has some other fabulous feature that makes up for only having one picture for every two or three recipes and one of my selections was Icebox Cakes by Lauren Chattman.

The book gives you fancy looking desserts to make that are great for summer weather (or at least in places that have summer, not necessarily in Alaska which seems to be skipping that particular season this year, grumble grumble) but are fast to put together, require no baking skills and are fun to eat.

The great thing about this particular book too is that one of the sections had cakes that are made with other little novelty cakes like Hostess Ding Dongs or Swiss cake rolls or other things I pretend I'm too righteously nutritious to buy. This recipe uses chocolate wafers though I tweaked things and used Oreos and it was declared a big hit. As if that's going to surprise anyone who reads the ingredients list.

Just give yourself enough time to have the proper freeze times. You need to freeze it for about five or six hours and then a final freeze before serving. Be prepared.

3 cups heavy chilled cream, divided
1/2 cup powdered sugar, divided
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
60 chocolate wafers (I used Oreos instead)
2 tablespoons cocoa powder
sprinkles for the top

Whip 1 1/2 cups of the cream, 1/4 of the powdered sugar and the vanilla together until stiff peaks form. Set aside.

Cover a cookie sheet with parchment paper (or plastic wrap or aluminum foil will work) and spread a tablespoon or so of the whipped cream on the top then stack another cookie on top. Using the whipped cream as filling between the cookies stake them on edge in three rows of 20 cookies on the cookie sheet.

Spread any remaining whipped cream over the entire structure so that it makes a frosted rectangle of delight.

Cover with plastic wrap (loosely) and freeze about five or six hours until firm (or up to a week).

Whip the remaining whipped cream, 1/4 cup powdered sugar and cocoa powder to stiff peaks and spread over the frozen whipped cream layer. Sprinkle with sprinkles and chill until ready to serve or freeze until ready to serve, taking it out to thaw a bit for 15-20 minutes before serving time.

Slice pieces so that the cookies are cut cross-wise and make a pretty pattern on the plate.

Sponsored by Dimples and Dandelions for Serena and Lily baby bedding.

Wherein I Reveal Myself to Be the World's Geekiest Blogger

Spencer called up to me from the garage on Thursday morning, "Mom! Come quick! There's a giant crane!"

Puzzling as to whether he was suddenly a budding ornithologist or construction worker I put on my shoes and joined him in the driveway to see what was indeed a giant crane--of the steel variety--poking up among the trees in the neighboring cul-de-sac.

We followed the stream of kids on bikes to where a house up the street was removing trees from their back yard. However, they weren't doing it the old-fashioned way (where one chops and chops and sweats) they had hired a tree service to come in and do the job for them--and efficient they most definitely were.

The crane had backed up into the home's driveway, lowered the crane over the clusters of lacy birches and suddenly there was a Godzilla-sized tree dangling from the sky. Before our Arbor Society sensibilities could even be aroused, it was lowered to street level to where it was fed trunk first into a waiting tree chipper that greedily devoured it down to the very last leaf. One only hopes that there were no baby birds waiting for mom to come back with a worm.

We stood there, watching, as they pulled up tree after tree--six I think total--and fed them into the chipper with a highly satisfactory grinding and clawing noise that completely fed my dormant and highly unrespectable desire for destruction. It was sad but yet it was something you wanted to cheer--like watching a building being imploded or a car being smashed at the junk yard. Sad to see something so beautiful that took 50 years to create reduced to sawdust in 50 seconds but yet I suppose the homeowners were clearing out the backyard so that it could actually be enjoyed, free of mosquitoes in summer and leaves in autumn. It's hard to use a back yard that is a tree farm and as you can see from the video below it's not as if we're lacking for vegetation around here.

The tree chipper guys smiled at us all grouped around to watch the action. They even stopped to wave and once it was all over we went back home but it was the talk of the dinner table that evening.

P.S. Today is our 18th anniversary. Can you believe we're so old as that?

Sponsored by Beau-Coup for unique baby shower favors.

Modern North and Modern Architecture

It's been a bit since we've talked architecture but a few rather exciting things have happened relative to the subject.

You see here the newly published book, Modern North: Architecture on the Frozen Edge by Julie Decker which gives tours of 34 buildings in northern climates from Alaska to Canada to Finland and back to Alaska.

Why is this interesting? Besides being a gorgeous book on architecture it features three residences designed by Bruce Williams of Black + White Studio Architects who is a master of modern residential architecture and who brilliantly designed our 2009 remodel.

In fact, our remodel is featured in the book on pages 202-205. Woo hoo! I have to say that, to me, this is vastly more exciting than having the casting director of MTV's show Cribs calling to see if we'd be interested in having a film crew drop by (and don't worry, once they realized they were dealing with a house that had a mere two-car garage with aging vehicles and a family that didn't even get cable they were suddenly less interested and never called again).

What makes this so exciting is the excellent company we are alongside--you see above the Buser-Chapoton Residence in Big Lake, Alaska designed by Mayer Sattler-Smith where the exterior material is charred wood. Yes, you read that right, charred wood. You'd think that would be odd but not only does it reflect its environment it gives the home a unique and strangely beautiful look--rather like the effect of a sun setting through clouds--and it goes to show what new and bizarre (yet exciting) things are being done in modern architecture.

The kids love flipping through the book and while we were out and about last week Lillian happened to see the BP Energy Center (featured on pages 120-125) and though she was a hundred yards away and it was largely blocked by the trees she saw it and got very excited to recognize the building from "our book."

By far my favorite building featured (besides our own house of course) is St. Henry's Ecumenical Art Chapel in Turku, Finland designed by Sanaksenaho Architects. We've stared so many times at the picture you see above that the book tends to naturally open at that page.

The warmth of the wood, the upward sweep of the walls, the graceful curve of the lines, the beauty of the light and absence of distractions all make it a place where one would truly be ready to worship. Now I'm not saying I'd like to sit for two hours on one of those benches, but I bet I'd find a harder time falling asleep in church with a view like that.

From the outside it looks like the hull of a ship rising from the ocean (perhaps a metaphorical ark?) and it just goes to show what beauty can be achieved when creative people combine with brave souls not afraid to build a structure that doesn't look like the box next door.

So if you have $32 to burn I suggest checking the book out (and they didn't even pay me to say that), especially if you live somewhere cold and are interested in modern residential architecture.

And if you'd like to see more of the genius of our own Anchorage architects you ought to the Black + White Studio Architects site which my dear husband Andrew recently redesigned as it features completed projects (such as our house) but some others that are in progress such as a house that is being built in Hawaii on a black and desolate lava field.

And if you delve deeply into the site you'll find their mission statement which is presented as a video clip in a rather unique way. Do those lips look familiar? I'll give you a wild guess as to who provided that mouth.

Sponsored by Storkie.com for baby birth announcements

Summer Kid Crafts: Make Your Own Bouncy Balls

This is a great and gooey craft that small kids and big kids alike will love--and all using things you most likely have on hand in the house.

It works best if you set up your work area with the ingredients separated into two little disposable bowls with plastic spoons, ready to go, so that you can throw the things away once you've done mixing. I love a quick clean up.

Though if you use your dinner bowls and fancy silverware it shouldn't cause any problems. Conservation is nearly as good as a quick clean up.

You'll need:
2 paper/plastic bowls (optional)
plastic spoon (optional)
1/2 teaspoon Borax
2 tablespoons warm water
1 tablespoon cornstarch
food coloring (optional)
1 tablespoon liquid glue such as Elmer's

Step 1:
In one of your bowls mix the 1/2 teaspoon Borax, 2 tablespoons warm water, 1 tablespoon cornstarch and a few drops of food coloring if desired. In the other bowl put the 1 tablespoon glue.


Step 2:
Add the Borax mixture to the glue in the other bowl. Set the timer for 15 seconds. Let it set for the full 15 seconds before mixing things together.


Step 3:
Stir the mixture around until all the ingredients are combined and then start rolling the mixture in your hands until it forms a ball. It takes a while for it to dry completely but we found it works better if you blow on it a bit to speed things along. We tried doubling the recipe for extra bouncing pleasure but it wasn't a good idea--it took longer to dry and form a ball with double the mass.

Once you've got a ball it will bounce on flat surfaces and holds together well though it isn't as firm as a regular hard plastic-style ball and will gradually flatten out on a counter if left out before it's dry. Don't leave it on carpet or on fabric until you're sure it's dry--I'd hate to have color get somewhere it shouldn't.

But we had hours of fun with it yesterday. Happy bouncing to you all.

***

Congratulations to Kelly of Rochester, Michigan; Justine of Tumwater, Washington; Anne of Fort Smith, Arkansas; Olivia of Anchorage, Alaska; Anne of Atlanta, Georgia; Katie of Troy, Michigan; Monica of Haines, Alaska; Sharon of Chico, California; Jennifer of Lakeland, Florida; and Kristi of Friendsville, Tennessee. Each of the ten have won a pair of Dockers' new Cargo Khakis in last weekend's giveaway. Happy Father's Day!

Sponsored by findourschool.com--Find the perfect school in your area.

A Patriotic Quilt

I don't do much quilting, the mood only strikes me about . . . oh . . . every ten to twelve years or so. But when I taught the girls at church to quilt I had a bunch of leftovers squares in my craft closet that I used as an example and once I had a perfectly good top pieced so beautifully I couldn't just let it sit there.

I spent approximately eight months in agony before I finally got to it, not wanting to actually get to such a long, drawn-out project but knowing that I might as well get started because I'd feel so much satisfaction once it was finished and what do you know? It worked. I finished it just this week.

It only takes me a couple hours to piece a top like this (I don't do particularly elaborate patterns but prefer some of the more simple and traditional ones such as the Irish Chain) but what takes forever is the quilting part.

You see, in my book if you go to all the trouble to piece a quilt top it would be heresy to tie it with yarn. I know people who hire others to machine quilt their quilts for them but then it seems like that's cheating. I don't have the skill or ability to machine quilt it myself so that leaves hand quilting and I love the way hand quilting looks, it gives a quilt the perfect touch that no other technique can rival.

But darn it, hand quilting takes FOREVER. This one represents about 60 hours worth of work, give or take, though with all the interruptions around here I don't know that that's an accurate representation of how much actual quilting went on.

Anyway . . . it's a beauty.

Just in time for the 4th of July. I almost hate to part with it but I've put it in my Etsy shop if any of you are looking for a real peach of a baby gift for any summer time babies you might have the pleasure of knowing.

Sponsored by Overstock.com for free online coupons.

Flying over Alaska

Oh how I've been dying to share what we did last week!

I've mentioned how I work with the teenage girls in our church congregation which means that I help them put together weekly activities designed to teach them all sorts of useful and interesting things. Sometimes our activities are good, sometimes they're not as good but we do have fun (remember our kayaking trip last summer? That was a bucket load of fun).

I got it into my head to give the girls a look at airplanes. After all, flying is a huge part of life in Alaska: most of the villages are accessible only by air which has led Alaska to have more people with pilots' licenses per capita than any other state. Lake Hood, near the Anchorage International Airport, is the busiest seaplane base in the world and there are many neighborhoods throughout Anchorage that have landing strips running along through the backyards with planes tied up as if you were seeing horses tied outside an old-time saloon in the wild west.

A friend of mine (Dr. Todd Christensen, a dentist here in town and a very nice man) loves to fly and happens to have three planes. Not only does he fly but his teenage sons also know how to fly and I got him to agree to give the girls an evening of airplane instruction.

We women drove north of the city, took the exit for the Old Glenn Highway then headed along for nine more miles until we crossed the Knik bridge (pronounced kuh-nik) where the Knik river snakes along with wide, sandy banks on either side. We pulled off the road onto the gravel then ended up fording the shallows in my minivan as we joined the guys who had flown in ahead of us to welcome the party.

Todd and his boys had flown in with two Super Cubs which are (as he describes it) "the ATVs of the airplane world." These tiny (and I mean tiny) two-seaters weighing 1200 pounds are light enough to lift in 35-40 mph winds because they're meant to fly in anywhere--on mountaintops, on sandbars, on glaciers, wherever they need to land--and to say they're exciting is a bit of an understatement.

We had a short intro to the planes, complete with a tour of the cockpits, then while most of the group got turns sitting and working the rudder and ailerons Todd took us up one by one for rides.

Grace went up first and about the time I was checking out the instrument panel there was this whooshing, roaring, rush overhead and the little yellow craft with my first born child swooped by overhead before banking to the right and heading higher up into the sky. After my initial terror it was amazing and thrilling and then my next thought was that I hoped the girls hurried up and got all their rides in because I was definitely going to be fighting them for a turn.

Once she was back on the ground she was giggling with amazement.

"He pointed to this little sand bar on the river," she said, "and then he said, 'see that sandbar down there? We're going to land on that!' and then he did!"

While Grace went up one of the boys kindly set a small bonfire ablaze on the beach so that we could roast marshmallows as we waited. Every so often the plane would sweep by overhead as it crossed up and down the river

Soon enough the plane would return in a ball of dust and noise and a laughing girl would climb out of the back seat while the next one in line took her place behind the pilot and the plane would rotate on its wheels, turn back where it came from and head away on up the beach before arching into the sky and out of sight.

Each time the plane landed the large and smooth rubber tires would bounce along like cartoon tires made of Jello as they'd flatten against the rocks then straighten again and the wind would carry the wall of dust kicked up by the propeller away from us upriver. The slightly overcast sky was warm and silvery as the evening wore on toward 9pm and the sun still shown and the fire burned brightly.

Finally all the girls had had their turns and I thought it would be acceptable to take a shot at things myself. Todd graciously offered me the last ride of the night and I climbed nervously into the seat behind him, strapping on my seatbelt and adjusting the headset mic so that it fit right in front of my mouth.

Just as the seatbelt was tight the propeller roared loudly and the plane turned upstream along the sand and I heard on my headset the question, "Do you want to have the window open or closed?"

"Open or closed?" I said "I didn't know that was even an option!"

"Then we'll leave it open," he said, as the wheels left the ground and the wind rushed through the cabin that was small enough to make my minivan feel like a mansion. My hair flipped around my face a bit as we got above the trees and the river sunk below us and it was terrifying and inspiring in equal amounts.

We raced along, higher and higher, until we eventually closed the window and turned back around downstream toward the camp. Gaining speed, we zoomed by over the girls' heads until I squealed as if I were on a roller coaster.

Coming back around there were beautiful little cabins on hilltops and ponds here and there. At the edge of one was a man with his snowmobile and I heard on my headset, "See that guy down there?"

"Yes."

"Watch, he's going to try and run his snowmobile over the pond."

And sure enough, the figure moved forward and headed out on the water and with a spray it zipped across the water toward the other side. We were gone by the time he should have reached the other side so I can't guarantee that he made it but I appreciate him making the ride that much more memorable for me.

Finally as I thought we were ready to land Todd said, "Do you have a cell phone or something?"

Thinking it was an awkward time to be making a phone call I said, "Uh, no . . . "

"Anything else in your pockets?"

"I've got keys?"

"Perfect! Here--give them to me."

I passed him my large key chain, complete with my tiny Swiss army knife, and he set them firmly in front of him on the narrow dashboard.

"Watch this!"

He pulled up on the stick and the plane shot up higher, nosing upward in what felt like a 90-degree angle. My stomach pressing deeply into my seat I giggled in what was surely a juvenile way, enjoying the sensation and briefly reasoning that the odds were pretty good that in this brief, ten-minute ride I wouldn't die.

Then the plane dove. My stomach floated up into my rib cage but what was more amazing was that my keys floated off the dashboard of the plane, then back through the cabin and into my startled, open hand.

"HOLY COW!" I squealed (or something like that) "You floated my keys back to me!"

Which was all I could talk about once we were back on the ground again and I think all the girls were just a little bit jealous.

I think we all could have stayed and done another round of trips but the guys had to go so we said goodbye, forded back across the stream and headed back to town. . . .

Here is a short clip of some of the evening. The only disappointment we had was that just as the plane buzzed by our camp my camera battery went out so that I didn't get any of the footage I'd hoped for. And trust me, you can't be any more irritated about the issue than I am. But it is what it is and at least it's a peek, right?

Sponsored by Sorella Jewelry Studio for fine personalized jewelry.

Sweet (or Salty) Lime Sodas

Perhaps the best thing I came back with from our trip to India was a deep, abiding love for lime sodas.

You can't drink the water but who cares?? When you've got a drink as tasty and fantabulous as lime sodas forget the water, you'll be drinking these forever after.

You see here Andrew and I partaking of sweet lime sodas at the pool in Hyderabad and the beauty of these drinks is that they are built to fit your mood because you can have lime sodas two ways: sweet or salty.

I know, I know--a salty soda may sound suspicious but I promise you that they're good. The lime soda is great sweet but when it's salty you get a little kick that is different but pleasantly so.

So if, for your summer picnics, you'd like to be very popular then consider making up the drink and see how your guests rave. You can make them as is and have them salty or drop the salt and increase the sugar. I'd also think that using a touch of ginger and honey in place of sugar and cumin would be very good.

This makes enough for one 12-ounce glass.

Juice of 2 limes
3 tsp sugar
Pinch of salt
Pinch of freshly ground cumin
12 ounces soda water, chilled
Ice (optional)

Pour the lime juice into a chilled glass, and add the sugar, and then the salt and cumin to taste.

Add ice if you like, top up with chilled soda water and serve immediately, garnished with lime wedges.

Sponsored by Dimples and Dandelions for Serena and Lily baby bedding.

Dockers Father's Day Givewaway

What fun have I got for you this weekend?

Well how about a nice, fat giveaway? Just in time to celebrate the 100th anniversary of Father's Day Dockers (the pants you all know and love I'm sure) is showing off their new line of Cargo Khakis.

To get you in the mood Dockers is offering ten winners each a pair of these fancy pants for themselves or the father in their life (and does he even look like that picture? I don't know that that guy could have less of the "Father's Day" look about him but what can you do?)

So to repeat: ten winners, each with a new pair of fancy Cargo Khaki pants. Happy Father's Day one and all!

Here's how to win:

Before 12 am Monday morning go to the giveaway entry form on this page and enter your name and email. I will pick one of the names at random, contact the winner via their email and publish the winner's first name and home town in next Tuesday's post. See the bottom of the entry form for more details.

This giveaway is open to all readers with a U.S. address. Good luck!

Mind if I Stare?

When we went to India in March I wasn't prepared to be one of the only two tourists in the country. I hear that most tourists go to the only part of India of which they're aware (i.e. the Taj Mahal and Dehli, maybe Mombai in a pinch) but we were in the south on the tip of the subcontinent where we could go days without seeing any other pale faces.

So it's not hard to understand why we were a subject of curiosity. According to my mother and father Indians are naturally curious people and will gather around any odd occurrence like kids around an ice cream truck. Though personally, I wondered if it wasn't so much that they are more curious than other people as that in India it's not considered rude to stare.

I, myself, am curious about anything strange but I've always been told it's impolite to stare so I'd be too embarrassed to join in the crowd. In India, however, it's perfectly fine to stare and let me tell you they take full advantage of the liberty (which I have to kind of envy if I were to be honest--sometimes staring is much more fun than pretending that one sees fully tattooed and mohawked women with piercings dangling from their eyelids every day).

So as if I didn't stand out enough being so pale and pasty (thanks, Alaskan sunshine) being six feet tall and blonde didn't help me blend in any. In the south people are frequently darker and shorter than you might find in the north (speaking in large, general terms) so I stood out like . . . like . . . like a crazy tall blonde woman in sunglasses (no one wears sunglasses there).

Everywhere we went people stared and gaped and rubbernecked and if they were particularly brave (which they usually were) they'd come up and ask if they could take my picture.

Not wanting to be rude I'd happily give them permission but as soon as one person got the go ahead it opened the flood gates for everyone else in the perimeter to jump in and do the same. It would start with one person then another and then another until I felt like Jennifer Aniston with a crowd of paparazzi--only taller and completely less glamorous and well-paid.

The day we went to Golkonda fort we arrived at the top of the fort where I was met by a man and his friends who waved a camera at me and asked if he could take my picture (see the picture at the top). I nodded and stood back against the wall where he began to snap away. His friends pulled out their cameras and joined in and then as more people came up the stairs they too began taking my picture until I was surrounded by twenty or so people--mostly men--taking pictures to most likely email to all their friends around the world with a text message that probably went something like: "Get a load of the bizarre thing I saw today--you'll never guess. . . ."

Usually they'd assume we were British or Australian but as soon as we said we were from America they'd smile and nod their head and say, "Oh, U.S.!"

I guess it's only fair that if I come to their country and spend my time walking around with my mouth open in amazement that they can do the same to me, right?

Sponsored by Polkadot Peacock for children's bedding.

The Oxford Book of Adventure Stories

edited by Joseph Bristow

We've been participating in our local library's summer reading program. Grace signed up first thing and the boys mocked her until they saw the movie ticket she got as a half-way prize then they ran to join up too. Now I've got them reading all over the place.

Thank you public library, thank you.

But one thing they've let me read to them is this wonderful book, The Oxford Book of Adventure Stories which I got at a used book store for a couple dollars last year. As the title would suggest, it's full of stories of adventure about such wonderful things as man-eating tigers, pirate sieges and jungle warfare.

Everything a budding young adventurer would find interesting, it's in there. They're arranged chronologically starting with Edgar Allen Poe's "MS Found in a Bottle" all the way to Margaret Atwood's (one of two women represented in the anthology) "Death by Landscape."

We've been checking them off one by one and so far we've been through H. Rider Haggard's "A Tale of Three Tigers" which had all the drama you'd expect from a title such as that, plus Bram Stoker's "The Red Stockade" which particularly wowed them when the pirates stuck their enemies' heads on pikes, and Robert Louis Stevenson's "The Isle of Voices" complete with Hawaiian witch doctors and mysterious magic.

There are also stories by H.G. Wells, Jack London, Mark Twain, Rudyard Kipling, Arthur Conan Doyle, Zane Grey, and Ian Fleming plus other assorted greats that deliver spies, World War I flying aces, big game hunters and draft dodgers. Some of the language can be difficult for younger audiences so that if my boys were to read it themselves they'd struggle a bit but having me read aloud to them where we can stop and explain difficult words or archaic expressions helps with their comprehension and keeps them going with the plot.

And best of all? With short stories you can finish one in half an hour then put it down until next time. One complete story, start to finish, that satisfies like a complete meal rather than picking away at chapters over months. You never have to wonder where it was you left off or try to pick up characters' names again, things like that. Wonderful for summer reading.

***

Here's a list of the 50 Best Books for Boys and Young Men at the Art of Manliness if you're looking for a longer menu and some of them are duplicated on my own list of Great Read Aloud Books for Boys. You might also see Raising a Reader and Activities that Encourage Reading as well. Summer is a great time to pick up a new book.

Sponsored by Dimples and Dandelions for Serena and Lily baby bedding.

Summer Kid Crafts: Kool-aid Playdough

Continuing with kid crafts this summer this is a fun recipe for play dough that is edible (notice I didn't say "healthy," I said "edible." Two very different things). It smells and tastes just like whatever flavor of mix you use. My personal favorite? Sharkleberry Finn. I must have drank 700 gallons of that stuff in college--it was at least enough to allow me to save up my Kool-aid points and receive my very own plastic "Hey Kool-aid!" pitcher and matching stemware. For when I served those fancy sit-down banquets in my dorm room.

You can substitute a package of unsweetened Jello in place of the Kool-aid though I don't see why you would--it's more expensive so stick with a twenty cent package of Kool-aid unless you have to. I've noticed that they now have "Mystery" flavors of Kool-aid that are clear. I would avoid that one unless you want a white dough that smells like a mystery flavor of Kool-aid.

1 cup flour
1 cup water
1/2 cup salt
3 teaspoons Cream of Tartar
1 package Kool-Aid mix (unsweetened)
1 tablespoon cooking oil

Mix dry ingredients together in a large saucepan. Slowly add water mixed with oil and stir over medium heat until mixture thickens to dough. Turn out onto a heatproof bread board or counter top and knead until cool enough for children to handle. Dough will be the color of the Kool-Aid mix and will smell like the Kool-Aid mix. (Can be stored in a tightly covered container for up to six months)

Sponsored by Beau-Coup for unique baby shower favors.

Life in the Tongass

By our newest contributing writer: Anji Gallanos from On Ruby's Hill whom I'll have the pleasure of introducing to you formally next week. You'll pick up a few clues to who she is and where she's from in her post.

***

I woke up this morning, to an unusually quiet house, and had a realization that brought a sense of relief to my sleepy brain. It is raining. I take a deep breath and a long stretch; the sound of rain hitting my neighbor’s metal roof brings me a great sense of peace this morning. Why is the rain responsible for a sense of relief? Let me explain.

I live in a rain forest. The Tongass rain forest to be exact. The Tongass is a place where the average rainfall is 56” a year. That number may not sound like much but think of it in terms of feet: 4.6 feet to be exact. We get enough rain to immerse my seven year-old in a tub of rain water every year. That number might send you scurrying to find out what your local town’s average rainfall is but what does that 56 inches really mean? Well, it means that it rains a lot. It rains more than Seattle (which gets an average of 36” a year so really, stop complaining Seattle, you’ll need a few more inches each year to match us). It means that our daily existence is typically determined by the weather.

Discussing the weather in, say, Phoenix might mark you as a limited conversationalist--perhaps even boring--but conversations about the weather in Juneau are the norm, a round topic that can open doors to any burgeoning new friendship. Even my fourth grader even talks weather with his friends. Weather discussions take precedence over such topics as new itouch apps, Legos and farts. My second grader doesn’t leave the house without asking if it’s a "rain pants day."

Lately, however, Juneau has had a bit of a problem. We are in the middle of a fabulously sunny spring. Days and days filled with sunshine and warm weather. Dry days filled with springtime buds, lawnmower sounds and chirping birds (okay not chirping birds, cawing loud ravens . . . but you get the point). We’ve been dry.

The sun, when you aren’t used to seeing it, brings about a sort of manic behavior in the pale-skinned, mole-eyed folks we are. All things are put on hold. All normal routine grinds to a halt. All new items on the agenda canceled. Try scheduling a book group, fund raising meeting or coffee date; it's not going to happen. Our phone is silent, there are no emails to answer (locally anyway). All of Juneau is outside.

“Can we get together later Anji?” they say. Or at work: “It’s so sunny we just have to get out. Anji can you stay to answer the phones?”

At home a conversation might go like this: “Honey we can’t paint the hallway this weekend, it’s too sunny."

I also have succumbed to this behavior. Yesterday was sunny, and I found myself instinctively gravitating towards hot dogs on the beach. I hate hot dogs, but when it’s sunny they taste better and I couldn’t possibly stay inside the house. Because number one, staying inside might bring about the "tsk tsk" shuns of my neighbors and number two, when it’s sunny I can see how actually dirty my house is.

So there you have it. It is raining today and because it is raining I am secretly excited. Rain means a friend might want to get together for coffee, my husband will want to paint the hall. I can spend some valuable time in my studio finishing those pieces of jewelry I just haven’t been able to get to. I can write a post for Scribbit and introduce myself.

My name is Anji Gallanos and on rainy days I am a jewelry artist, a mother to two boys, a fantastic wife, a community activist, an avid reader and hopeful traveler. I am excited to write for Scribbit. But on sunny days . . . well . . . you get the idea.

Sponsored by Storkie.com for baby birth announcements

How to Make a Hanging Chair

Chairs on the ground are pretty boring. But chairs in the air?? Fabulous.

What's doubly fabulous is that hanging chairs are easy to make (I have a couple other patterns that we might attempt this summer if I can scrounge the supplies).

Here's what you'll need:
2 yards of strong canvas
rope
4 grommets
a thick dowl
2 yards of chain
2 "S" hooks
2 eyebolts and nuts to fit

Of course you'll also need a place to hang it--one where it can attach to a stud, not just into the sheet rock because it'll never hold that way.

1. Cut out your pieces
Here's an approximate design guide that seemed to work though you could make it even easier and omit the side pieces. One big long center piece could work. You'll need two pieces of each piece.


2. Sew it up
Sew the two side pieces to each center piece then with the right sides facing sew the two section together, leaving a six-inch opening. Then using that opening turn them right side out and sew the opening shut.


3. Attach the grommets
At each of the four corners trace the inner circle of the grommet in the place where you'd like to attach it. Cut the inner circle out with scissors or a razor then use a hammer and plate to attach the grommets in place. Make sure they're secure through both layers of fabric.


4. Attach the chair to the pole
Run a length of rope through each of the holes, cutting and knotting them at the appropriate length so that it hangs as you see in the top picture. Loop each of the ropes over the pole. If you're using nylon rope don't forget to heat the ends to keep them from fraying.


5. Attach chair to chain and then to ceiling.
Drill a hole through the dowl and screw the eye bolt in, securing with the nut. Attach the "S" hook as you see here and repeat for the other side of the dowl. Once you've got the chain attached to the wood you can use another eyebolt to secure it to a stud in the ceiling, suspending the chair from the middle of the chain as you see in the first picture. Easy!


The biggest problem is deciding who gets to use it first.

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