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I’ve lived through a handful of historically significant moments. The first of those that I remember was the Challenger explosion. My 4th grade class was excitedly following the launch as one of our classmate’s father worked at NASA, and well, how cool was it that there was a teacher on board who would be broadcasting her experiences from the shuttle? So, the morning of the shuttle explosion, we gathered around the TV to watch the launch only to have it spoil our day. I remember being too sad to eat lunch. Amateur video of the explosion:

Long ago I believe I posted about the CSA we belonged to. After a year hiatus, we have re-joined Eatwell Farm’s CSA. CSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture and is basically an arrangement where farms or a collection of farms sell produce subscriptions directly to end consumers. It works out well for the farms as these subscriptions keep money flowing throw the farm throughout the year despite the crop yield, and for the consumers it means incredibly fresh vegetables and good karma.

One of the more exciting things about CSAs for me is the exposure to new foods. It was through Eatwell that we years ago learned about green garlic (the first crop of young garlic which resembles green onions in shape and texture, but has a buttery garlic taste reminiscent of shallots) and fava beans. Our very first box contained both which we improvised into a shrimp/fava scampi. Today, we were introduced to romanesco and tatsoi. The former is a fractal looking broccoli and the latter is a peppery green.

Of course there are good years and bad years. The last year we subscribed, we amassed a cellar of potatoes and onions and were completely unable to keep up with the kale production in both our garden and our farm. That summer, the farm was hit with mediterranean fruit flies depriving us all the best fruits of summer (tomatoes, peppers, eggplant…). We ultimately canceled, up to our ears in potatoes. Thankfully, during our hiatus, the farm grew a bit and is now able to offer one of the best produce selections in the area. So, with as much produce as my kids consume at lunch these days, I decided we’d get back in the CSA.

Interested in finding a CSA near you? Check out LocalHarvest.org

Our box this week:
romanseco, carrots, tatsoi, kale/mustard greens, spinach, daikon radishes, cilantro, oranges, lemons, leeks, and 6 fresh eggs

What we’re eating:

• Tonight: tatsoi + pear + raspberry + smoked salmon salad – just wash and toss everything in a vinaigrette.
• Tomorrow: Spinach pizza; Green garlic pizza
• Saturday: breakfast of biscuits with spinach and egg scrambles; vietnamese sandwiches for dinner to use the cilantro/radishes/carrots
• Sunday: spinach dip + chips, apple+greens slaw and tofu dogs, beer/root beer
• Monday: Veggie Cobb Salad with fake-on, cheese, hard boiled eggs, romanesco, the remaining greens, green beans (+ capers and anchovies for the nicoise fans)
• Lunches for the brown-eyed pair: Leek and asparagus soup

I was home alone with the kids, today, so after a trip to REI/Target/a local thrift store to refresh the rain gear, a rain walk, some leaf races, a bath, and while sucking back hot chocolate, I gave the kids pedicures. Will insisted that I paint his nails a dusty rose color despite my insistence that he’d be teased by the big kids (second graders). Wouldn’t he prefer this silver? No, he doesn’t care what the older kids think. So, I proudly painted his toes and fingers. Later, after our trip to the grocery store, the kids ran to the dress ups chest to don their personas and I heard Will trying to convince Sylvie to let him wear the pink satin skirt so that *he* could wear it. “Sylvie, Angelina Ballerina doesn’t wear a skirt like that. Can I wear it? It goes better with my [pink feathered] shoes.” Yes, I love that gender appropriateness never enters into his mind, but I know this won’t last forever. So, I ask you, when is innocence lost?

Oh, and tonight, I remarked when checking Sylvie after a bathroom visit, “Oooh, Sylvie, that was big!” only to have Will run into the bathroom, “Let me see! How big was it mom? Show me with your hands! Was it this big? Bigger than this?”

My, it has been a long time, hasn’t it?

Truth be known, we’ve been the sickest ever this winter sampling each of Winter’s nasties. So, between flights of bedridden illness there was the obligatory frantic holiday shopping and crafting, booking of holiday trips, the attendance at holiday gatherings, avoidance of some due to flights of illness, then holidays and the taking of holiday trips… and I just never found time to check in.

Rather than boring you with what we’ve been up to, I figure I’ll start the year off with some learnings from 2009:
1. If you have to see the Nutcracker at Christmas, and you aren’t going to see your child or beloved family/friend, get tickets to the San Francisco Ballet. It is incredible.
2. The Madame du Cirque Scene in the Nutcracker is when all the three year olds in the audience exit to the hallways to run about.
3. Star Wars is not, as we parents believed, about spaceships and space. According to Will, it is about people and killing and …
4. 5 year olds don’t want guitars for Christmas. The fact that it was made by Santa doesn’t matter.
5. Santa’s giving your 5 year old a guitar for Christmas will make him appreciate the backpack, new markers, and fresh sets of Legos you bought him.
6. When booking your next trip to Disneyland, stay at the Howard Johnson across the street. The pirate themed waterpark attached to the hotel was our favorite Disney attraction.
7. You have to do New Years Eve at Disneyland once in your life. It sure beats standing around for 8 hours in single digits to watch a ball drop out of the sky.
8. Buy and cook fresh Dungenous crab for Christmas. Fresh, it is $4.99 a pound! At my house, we make the vegetarians boil those suckers alive.

What you miss by leaving Disneyland before the sun goes down:

Will rang in the new year missing a front tooth after knocking it lose in a freak rootbeer making accident. (We made rootbeer floats for Christmas Eve lunch.)

In other news, Santa brought me a ukulele to complete my hipster look. What a blast! The beauty of 4 strings is you can pretty quickly start plunking out identifiable tunes. I’m getting pretty decent at the classics like Leaving on a Jet Plane, She is Leaving Home (Beatles), Edelweiss, I’m so tired (Beatles), All of Me, Puff the Magic Dragon, Tonight You Belong to Me and Rainbow Connection. Still working on While My Ukulele Gently Weeps and Blackbird. I take requests… Maybe a tour in 2011?

When I’m not obsessively strumming, we’re training for the Napa Marathon on March 7th.

We’ll be tracking Santa this year, as usual, using NORAD’s site. Read about the amusing origins of NORAD’s involvement.

So there has in fact been sewing, crafting, running, cooking and interesting things going on in our lives. BUT, I’m not feeling up to sharing, as there has also been viruses galore.

Something that made me smile:

It is officially winter around here. Last weekend, we took the kids ice skating. Apparently, there is a window in our lives during which ice-skating comes naturally as Sylvie was sure footed and Will was like Bambi on ice. My back still hurts from trying to get him to stand up.

Sunday, we went to Fort Point under the Golden Gate Bridge. They’ve turned the old fort into a museum which is both spooky and incredibly picturesque. If you are ever filming a horror flick, this place should be on the top of your list to scout. Loved the child eating waves on the approach.

Our Thanksgiving was shared with Doug’s side of the family. Somehow I lucked out in the family department as this side is just as nice as my side. Not exactly a substitute, but their company is always wonderful. Sylvie is thankful for sandwiches and dinner, says she.

I’m also thankful for the protection my pirate children provide me, and the fact that they don’t use their swords on each other.

I am also thankful for stink-eye. It appears to be genetic.

Christmas has already arrived at our house. One of the benefits to keeping your Christmas lights on the house all year is that we are ready for Christmas just as soon as we toss the scary pumpkins behind the parapet of our roof.

And yes, we’ve already got a tree. At Doug’s request, because he said the pictures of us buying a Christmas tree at Home Depot were embarrassing, we cut our own tree from a farm in Petaluma.

Sylvie’s sales pitch, “This tree is perfect. It is beautiful. I love it.”

We settled on a redwood which I think is the prettiest, ever.

Last night the kids helped me decorate the tree. Decorating the tree in our house is not the jolly affair that John Hughes would have you expect as the kiddie exuberance around delicate ornaments makes me wicked. Not that we were hanging anything delicate, just that all the soap bubble crystal ornaments happen to be in the same boxes as the wooden, kid friendly ones. Somehow we got the tree up and trimmed. Sylvie asked me this morning to help her put on the Santa socks (stockings I lovingly crafted a few years ago and carefully hung on the mantle last night…).

I must be instinctually planning for a rough winter as I’ve had an overwhelming need to nest. I started a batch of vanilla on Friday, made persimmon jam from the 3lbs of persimmons on my counter, today, and whizzed all of our basil into pesto for the week.

I’ve been reading Julia Child’s autobiography on my bus rides to the office, and her original cookbook on short rides with the kids. Something about both books makes me crave butter and wine. We’re not eating any better than normal – except for my perfectly poached eggs this morning and the random batch of asparagus soup – but, any minute now, I’m going to break into sauce and crepe some things.

Hope your Thanksgiving was wonderful and that you are enjoying the brisk air. (Hope you Texans are getting some brisk air.)

Doug has been making digital copies of all of the hundreds of tapes we have around the house, so he put a video of Will’s birth on the computer for the family to watch. It isn’t dramatic like on TV. Nothing scary. Mostly side view. Both kids were really interested. Just after the birth, Sylvie put her hand on her chest, turned to me and insisted, “Mommy, *I* didn’t come out of your butt like Willie.”

I sent the light saber wielding kids into the backyard right after Sylvie got out of the bathtub this afternoon. Will was supposed to help her put on her dress, and then they were supposed to head out back for some sword fighting. (Don’t worry, Will is sweet enough to simply wack trees, not people, and Sylvie will do whatever he does.) A few minutes later, Will walked up into the house and calmly said, “Hey Mom, you should look out the window.” Guess who is 4 feet off the ground, buck naked in the tree below my kitchen window?

“Sylvie could use your help, Mom.” heh.

Inspired, Doug is building the kids a basic tree house. Will just ran in with a butter knife to ask for my help with the house.

Amusingly, before they were sent outside, Sylvie dropped her light saber when she stooped to adjust her towel. She asked Will for help and he told her, “Just use the force!” If only.