Note the rainboots with the jams. Simon put them on all by himself (the boots, not the pajamas).

Today we made a big batch of Grandma Johnson’s Gingersnaps. Simon helped (more or less).

(I am assuming that) these school busses—and about fifteen more just like ‘em—brought the bands for the Star City Parade . I had no idea that Jason didn’t like parades, but apparently he really doesn’t. So instead of going to the parade, we went and got our Christmas tree this morning.

Simon loves, LOVES to play in the water. Today he kept himself occupied (and absolutely soaked the floor all the way from the sink to the fridge) while I used up our leftover cranberry sauce to make this cake. Mine looked nothing like the picture; instead of making a nice ribbon, all my sauce floated to the top of the cake/bottom of the pan, and it wasn’t the prettiest. Still, it tastes pretty yummy, and I’ll definitely keep the recipe around. Next up, though, for the other leftover cranberry sauce I have (sans the booze), I intend to try this recipe from the same site.

[Why is this post here and not on Needs More Butter? I don’t know.]

I’ve always found it funny when someone hides a random object in a funny place it doesn’t belong, and for whatever reason, I have a number of friends who like to do just that. I can’t even remember who started it, but when I lived with Trish we took turns hiding a marshmallow (the big kind). I would find it in the cereal box or a shoe; she would find it in her tennis racket or her night cream. That marshmallow was pretty stale and grody since the game went on for months. When I lived with Brook and Lou, we passed around an old dried-out corsage (again, can’t remember how it got started or how we knew to pass it on when it ended up in a sock drawer or the egg carton). Whenever Kate comes to visit, I find at least one of the wooden feathers from the bird that sits on the stairway on my pillow or in the bathtub or somewhere equally random. I had almost forgotten how much I like this particular kind of silliness until this morning when I found this little guy peeking out at me from the top shelf in the bathroom. I suspect it to be Neil’s doing since they visited yesterday on their way back to Colorado.

Read all about it.

I don’t know how many times I’ve started and subsequently abandoned some variation of Project 365 (wherein the challenge is to take a photo every day for a year)—at least as many times as I’ve started The Brothers Karamazov. I started again on my birthday this year, and today marks the hundredth day. I didn’t blog about it from the beginning because I have an annoying (at least to me) habit of announcing these kinds of grand plans and then not following through. But here we are, and I’m still enjoying myself, so I thought I’d share some thoughts about how it’s going so far.

There have definitely been more days than I like that I don’t pick up the camera until after 10 pm. On those days I inevitably end up with some incredibly lame shot. A true low point was just a few days ago: I had neglected the camera all day, and Jason was trying to get Simon to go back to sleep, so I didn’t want to go down the creaky creakola stairs to get it. I had to resort to using the iSight on Jason’s computer. Not my best work.

I’ve also had to be flexible on the rules to avoid discouragement and/or the project becoming nothing more than a chore. (Really, there’s only one rule: take a picture every day, but it has required some interpretation nonetheless.) Once I realized after I was in bed that I had forgotten to take a photo; I had however taken a video earlier that day, so I let that count. Two (or maybe three) times I’ve used photos that were taken by others but that I had “commissioned” (i.e., said, “Hey, will you grab my camera and get a shot of x?"). More often than not I put off uploading for a few days. But so far I haven’t flat-out forgotten or failed to take a picture.

I don’t try for an artistic shot every day. Some days are just about documenting what we did. And other days’ photos are either experiments or accidents with lighting or camera settings. And I do try to shake it up a bit—I’m certain that I could take a daily picture of Simon (and/or new baby when he arrives).

I’m liking the challenge and the rhythm and discipline of doing something creative every day. And there are a few shots that (for various reasons) I really love. So although I’m certainly not proud of each individual shot, I do enjoy how the Flickr set is shaping up. I, of course, hope (and plan) to finish the next 265 days as well—as long as it keeps being fun, that is. 

I posted the recipe to Needs More Butter.

We have been celebrating today’s gorgeous weather in a most un-Moreheadlike way: yard work!

I don’t think the pictures can quite convey the horror that was the area back by our garage. Rebecca once said that she was afraid that she was going to run over someone every time she had to pull out of the alley.

And Jason admitted that it crossed his mind that he might find a body back there (chalk that up to watching too much Bones lately). Thankfully, he found only a snake and a couple of aluminum cans.

Meanwhile, Simon helpfully rearranged the rocks in what I guess is the driveway. What a thoughtful boy.

And while the “after” still leaves plenty to be desired, it is quite satisfying to be just that much less of a blight on the neighborhood.

As I may have mentioned before, swimming lessons are not going so well this time around. Although they are not scheduled during Simon’s regular naptime, he falls asleep on the long ride across town almost every week, and waking up to get in a cold pool is, well, not his favorite. This week we planned an afternoon trip to Nebraska City to take in some of the beautiful fall colors and pick up some apples and whatnot. We decided that if the little guy fell asleep on the way to swimming, we would skip (again) and head down early. He did; we did.

We started off at Kimmel Orchard—a place we have been many times. I had only ever been to the main building, where they sell a huge variety of apples and stuff made with apples (salsas, wines, sauces, jams, pies, etc.) and other orchardy stuff (cherry cider, e.g.). I particularly love their apple doughnuts. And while the building has lots to offer productwise, it’s not really what I’d call a rockin’ good time or anything (they did have a live polka band there on Saturday, so that was something).

I had no idea, though, how big the orchard (and vineyard) really is. We saw a sign for hayrack rides to the pumpkin patch and thought, Why not?

The hayrack ride went much more smoothly than the one last year at Jason’s work party (Simon was eight months old and cried the WHOLE time). It was beautiful, and Simon was fascinated with the tractor.

We hopped off to pick apples. This was my idea, one I did not think through very well. I just thought Simon would like pulling them off the tree. We had no bag to collect them, so we just let him grab one that was destined for the ground anyway.

We did enjoy our stroll the rest of the way to the pumpkin patch. Simon picked his way through the pumpkin vines and tested his strength with several pumpkins.

After lunch we made our way to the Lied Lodge. Our plan was to walk down through the woods to the Arbor Day Tree Adventure and see if the kiddo was still awake.

The Tree Adventure was really cool and will definitely be worth going back to spend some real time. We were pretty worn out by that much fresh air already (ha), so our trip was relatively short. (God bless my dear husband for nixing the woodchip part of the trail, which would have added another 3/4 mile to our walk; I wanted to collapse by the time we got back to the car the way it was).

More pics of our day here.

For the past couple of days Simon and I have been more or less stuck in the house (a combination of being a one-car family, living in cold and rainy Lincoln, and me being too germ-phobic to venture out to any indoor playland or the Children’s Museum). So after (yesterday) pulling out all the toys (this was partly my fault; I got it in my head that I wanted to organize them) and (today) reading the tractor book for the umpteenth time, we built forts.

I have to admit that I’m rather a novice at building forts, so these were pretty minimal, but Simon didn’t seem to mind.

I hadn’t realized that forts have Rules. Rules that are not to be broken on penalty of horrible, high-pitched “eh, eh, eh” screaming until the violation has been reversed. As far as I could tell, Simon’s Rules are as follows:

1. Mama is to be in (or very near) the fort at all times. (I have no doubt this will also be the first Rule to go once he gets a bit older, so I’m enjoying it while I’m still welcome.)
2. There are to be NO pillows in the fort.
3. There is to be NO laying down (with or without pillows) in the fort.

Jason came home for lunch today and deliberately and blatantly broke Rules 2 and 3. It took Simon a while to asses the situation, but eventually he decided that he, not Daddy, was king of the fort and enforced the Rules.