some things are best left up to me...

Such as getting Liam dressed. I grew tired of changing Liam out of Gabriel's chosen outfits, which had a reputation for being unseasonable and, well, interesting. So, then I started laying coordinated and seasonably appropriate outfits out on the changing table. All he has to do is put them on Liam.

Here's what I discovered the other morning:

a rose with some bite

Liam and I picked this Peace rose from our garden.

He liked the smell, and apparently decided he needed to taste it as well.

Willborg

Update: I spoke with my dad earlier today (Tuesday), and the surgery went really well. He says he is in less pain now than before the surgery, and he is only on oral pain medication. He should go home in the next day or two. He could use continued prayer for the recovery, and so can my sister Molly who will be giving him injections every day for a week to keep his blood from clotting. Thank you for all of your prayers. Really. It means a lot.

Ever since my dad had his hip replaced several years ago, he has referred to himself as Willborg. Part human. Part machine. Sometimes he says it as a joke. Other times it is with a sob and even a note of horror. You see, all things medically related have an elevated urgency with my dad. They are extra painful. Extra scary.

He was born with Legg-Calve-Perthes (a rare disease causing deformities in the ball and joint of the hip socket), and spent a good portion of his youth in leg braces like Forrest Gump. He has always lived with pain, but rather than learning to cope with the pain, he has grown to fear it.

Today he is having another surgery. This time to correct a defect in the lining of his artificial hip, which has been releasing bits of plastic that his bones have been absorbing and then rotting. It has been incredibly painful, and this surgery will be, too.

My family is going through a very difficult time right now, this surgery aside. It seems like everything is crumbling down around us, and this surgery is just the awful icing on top.

Please, pray for my dad today.

un petit francais, c'est vrai?

Liam models a chocolate goatee well.

trouble maker

Lately, Liam seems to be getting into anything and everything. He especially loves to push buttons on the stereo. Here, he has just turned it off. Again. Uh-Oh!

rhubarb

The first time I visited the farm in Iowa, Janelle served a rhubarb pie. Apparently, it was one of Gabriel's favorite desserts. Like a true Southern California girl, I had never even heard of it.

My first response: What is it?
My second response: mmm...

And so began my love affair with rhubarb.

It is generally regarded as an old-fashioned plant, probably because once a crown is planted, it grows for generations. In the spring in Iowa, it seems to sprout up everywhere. The plant itself is as much at home in an ornamental garden as the traditional vegetable plot. Celery-like stalks of reds and greens shoot up into broad leaves, reminiscent of elephant ears. Because it needs a winter's freeze to grow, it is unheard of in California. But Arkansas freezes.
When we first bought our house, I purchased several bare roots from Atwoods, the local farm store. That first spring, they popped up, but then a hot summer's drought finished them off. Last spring, we brought home a portion of an old root crown from the farm and planted it in a full-sun location. That is how it grows in Iowa. This spring it seemed to lagging, and then I overheard a vendor at the Fayetteville Farmer's market explaining how to grow rhubarb in Arkansas. Apparently, for our Southern climate, it needs to go into the shadiest part of the garden. So, my rhubarb is now settled in behind the bench-log in the pond garden. It seems happy there.

We brought home several pounds of rhubarb from the farm last week. Of course, it is already gone. Here is what I made with it:

Rhubarb Crumb Bars from the May 2009 issue of Everyday Food. Except, I made them in a spring form pan for coffee cake instead. Yummy.

The obligatory rhubarb pie. My favorite recipe comes from Baking Illustrated, which calls for 1/2 strawberries, 1/2 rhubarb. This time I substituted all rhubarb, but didn't increase the amount of sugar. It was a bit too tart. But I kind of like it that way. My favorite pie crust recipe is Martha Stewart's pate brisee. It's amazingly flaky. But how could you go wrong with 2 sticks of butter...?

Rhubarb muffins. These turned out delicious.
here is how I made them

Sometimes Vegan Rhubarb Muffins

• 1/4 cup butter (I've also used vegetable shortening when they need to be dairy-free)
• 1/2 cup unsweetened applesauce
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1 cup sugar (I use sucanat)
• 2 cups whole wheat pastry flour (Of course, these could also be made with all-purpose flour, or a combination of the two)
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1/2 cup milk (or soymilk)
• 2 cups sliced rhubarb

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Prepare muffin cups as desired. No matter how well I grease a bare muffin tin, my muffins stick, so I usually use unbleached baking cups, but in a pinch I sometimes use squares of parchment paper.
2. Cream together butter, applesauce, and sugar. I use my KitchenAid, but these could definitely be made in a bowl with a wooden spoon.
3. Stir in remaining ingredients, just until combined. Don't overstir or they won't rise well.
4. Spoon into muffin cups, filling 3/4 full.
5. Bake 35 minutes, or until tops are firm. I know, that seems like a long time for muffins, but they turn out great this way. Cool slightly before serving.

strawberries

Sorry about the blogging hiatus over here. I've spent the last week catching up from our trip. But now the laundry is done, the garden is weeded, and my kitchen floor is mopped. So, here we go again.


When we bought our house 5 years ago (wow, has it really been that long?), one of our first major gardening projects was to convert the side yard from a blank grass pallette into a pond garden with an arbor at the entrance. The major hardscaping was the easy part, filling in all of that now-empty dirt with a lush garden was the hard part. It's taken this long, but I think we're pretty much there. But it has taken a lot of replanting, transplanting, and giving up on certain species (hybrid roses...definitely not my thing. Or Irish Moss, alliums, gladiolus...this list goes on). One of the only plants which has been perfect from the start is the strawberry patch stretching down the one side. It must be just the right amount of shade combined with the heavy layers of mulch we faithfully apply each year. These berries just keep growing. And spreading.

Then last year we almost killed them. The summer grew hot. Liam was a fussy little thing. And the weeds kept growing. Up and over the strawberry patch. When Gabriel and I finally took care of them in the early fall, many of the plants had shriveled up.

I watched them, the remnant, through the winter, huddling under the snow and ice. But then this spring they popped back up, as they always do. And once again they're growing. And spreading.

And I'm weeding.

The strawberry crop this year has been pretty steady, but definitely not by the bucketful like last year. The slugs have also been a problem. Good thing we now have chickens who happily search out the little slimies and slurp them up.

And so, we've been enjoying fresh strawberries. Vine ripened.

Liam loves them. And so does Gabriel. Me, too.
The best part of growing your own berries is finding fun new ways to enjoy them. Like this ice cream recipe from the June 2009 issue of Everyday Food.

Perfect with a slice of Angel Food Cake (from Baking Illustrated) and extra sliced berries.