annie blog

Hi y’all.  I hope that your Thursday is going well.  There is lots of pretty sunshine here this morning.  I purposefully sat in a patch of sunlight and ate my breakfast.  I think that’s going to become a morning ritual for me.  When the sun is in agreement, of course.

A few things that I wanted to share with you today (and to remember, myself):

THIS KITCHEN.  Boom.  What an amazing and doable renovation.  The designers took a kitchen and made it over using only paint, a few shelves, cut and glue cork flooring, and a few accessories.  Inspirational and doable are sometimes not one and the same…you know, for those of us who live with normal lives and have normal budgets, but in this case they are.  Simply gorgeous.

THIS PORK.  I have a confession to make.  I’m not the best meat-cooker.  Yes, I can fry chicken and grill things.  Yes, I can make a decent fish almandine, I can do stir frys, and I can make burgers with a grill pan.  I just haven’t had all that many success stories involving myself, pork, and an oven.  All that is over now, though, because of this recipe.  It also uses a pork loin, which is something that I’ve had less success with than, say, pork chops or tenderloins.  It was really good and so easy.  And, to quote Jon on the easy marinade/sauce that you make to go with it, “This sauce is the happy child of gravy and maple syrup.”   Yes.  And the sauce, along with leftover meat, makes a delightful sandwich for the next day’s lunch.

Happy Thursday!!

Hey y’all, check out Lil Buck jookin’ to Yo-Yo Ma’s cello.

That sentence sounds funny, I know, I mean, Yo-Yo and Lil Buck, together, but the dancing is really sort of mind-blowing….

This is a film by Spike Jonze.

Happy Wednesday, y’all!

Originally published on April 4, 2009

Taking James to a Wedding

James’s teacher was married today.
We went to her wedding.
It was in a Catholic church.
We were standing, waiting to be seated.
James told me that he was thirsty.
I told him to wait and spoke to a friend.
Then my friend started laughing really hard.
James had decided that Holy Water must be as good as regular water.
And so he was drinking directly from the spigot.
My friend had to use her tissues early.
The ones she brought in case she got emotional during the wedding.
To wipe away tears of laughter.

So, in case y’all are wondering how to tell if you really have seasonal allergies, the true test is when you can’t smell the DEAD POSSUM that has met his maker under the floor under your kitchen sink.

Yep.

Yik, Yik, Yik.

Related to this, Jon has the following advice when purchasing a ShopVac:  Buy the big ‘un.

My advice is to make sure to buy beer to treat any post possum removing stress disorder otherwise known as PPRSD.

Whew.

I hope that y’all are having a delightfully possum-free Monday.

This repost comes from February 12, 2011.  So, a little over 2 years ago.

It was the day that James decided that he had had enough of us.

Oh.  What a funny boy.

“I’ve Had IT!”

he declared one day last week. Standing in my kitchen, barefoot, hands on his hips and Aldi bag slung over one shoulder.

“What, James?” I asked him.

He said, “I’ve had it with all the scolding around here. I’m running away!!”

I then explained to him that the scolding was my job.

I explained that he wasn’t scolded that much, anyway. That most of the scolding centered around how he should close his lips when chewing for the benefit of all humanity.

Then I asked him where he would get his Coke if he left home.

I reminded him that I couldn’t keep him safe if I didn’t know his location.

Three minutes later, his grand thoughts of freedom deflated, he walked off toward the computer.

I laughed. James is so, so funny.

It’s curious. These kids with autism, they have many of the same milestones as neurotypicals. The milestones just come later and look differently than they do with typically developing kids. We parents remember things with a fondness that is a little nonsensical if not understood by the context of our situation. For instance, how we are delighted when our child decides to hide his doughnuts so that no one else can have them or when we are thrilled that our child has been forward thinking enough to get mad at us and decide to run away (not really run away, though).

Later, I found the Aldi bag discarded in my room. I was interested. Now, I wondered, what exactly would James think imperative to bring with him in his great runaway adventure?

So I opened the bag to find….

His iPod, of course.
His wallet — shows good thinking.
His newest Goodwill book, one all about the Muppets Take Manhattan movie.
His kazoo. Never leaves home without it.

My boy makes me laugh. 

Wisteria tree

Blueberries to be

What, a loquat?

Red shirt and red lips.

Lovely lichen.

New flip flops for the summer that is here, now.

Happy Wednesday, y’all!!!

Hey y’all, this is the 5th of my repostings for April, Autism Awareness Month.

This was a funny night.  It kind of incapsulates — if that is possible — the experience of having him for a son…a son who has autism.

He is so funny.  Many times predictable but other times, not so predictable.

It is not boring, being his mom.

Originally published June 16, 2011.

The Definition of Perfunctory

Tonight, we went for our weekly dinner at the church’s parish hall. We ate grilled meats and chips and summery foods. After the meal and a little singing, we split into groups. The young kids left to go to classes and the older youth and adults remained together for a lecture and discussion session.

I really like getting together with folks from church in the middle of the week. In the church of my girlhood, we had a Wednesday night fellowship supper. I remember really liking that, too.

So, back to tonight.

My two oldest boys stayed with me for the adult/youth session. We watched a video and then had a question and answer session.

Now, typically,  this is when my oldest son, James, will tend to zone out. He doesn’t listen to the video. He doesn’t listen to the discussion. He goes to Jamesey world inside his head and he stays put there until I reel him back to reality.

(Reeling him back to reality is my #1 job.  I should put it in the “occupation” blank when I fill out a form.)

So, today, I told him that I wanted him to pay attention and have one relevant thing to write down after the video and discussion were over.  

We watched the video.  

The discussion was begun.

The pens and paper were passed around.

James took both pen and paper,  busily wrote for a minute and then put the cap on his pen.

Though the class was not over, he decided to visit the bathroom.

He handed his piece of paper to me as he passed.

Just so you know, the message of the video and discussion had been about Resurrection and Hope.

James had written, “God, you’re the greatest”.

My son Nathan and I read it as James ambled away. We tried not to laugh too hard.

What a way to cover it all. He found a way to not listen and still write something to get him off the hook.

What a buster.

Sorry, y’all, I have to apologize for putting so much granola-related recipes on here lately.

I really am sorry.  But, you need to have this recipe.

I adapted it from Shutterbean.  Now, that is a gal who knows her granola.

Anyway, my modifications were to substitute pecans for walnuts (though walnuts would be great, too).  Also, I made cinnamon pecans instead of vanilla-flavored, and I stirred in some dried cranberries after the bake for tartness and that little zing that every good recipe needs.  I didn’t use the black sesame seeds, although I’m sure they’d be good in there, so if you have them, throw them in.  There were no black sesame seeds to be had here in Starkpatch.

Really, this is the most delicious granola.  Nathan thought so, too, and particularly liked the crunchy, cinnamony pecans.

Here’s the recipe:

Killer Granola

• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• pinch of salt
• 1 cup chopped pecans
• 2 teaspoons honey
• 1/4 cup packed light brown sugar or organic sugar (the loose kind that tastes mildly of molasses)
• 1 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1 1/4 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
• 1/2 cup unsweetened coconut flakes (if all you can find is sweetened, then you might want to back off on the sugar amount, slightly)
• 1/2 cup sunflower seeds
• 1/4 cup black sesame seeds (optional)
• 2/3 cup dried cranberries

Preheat oven to 325F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a small saucepan, melt the butter with the salt over low heat. Add the chopped nuts, increase the heat to medium, and cook, stirring frequently for 5 minutes, or until lightly toasted. Add the honey and brown sugar, reduce the heat to low, and stir until melted and combined. Remove from the heat and stir in the cinnamon.

In a large bowl, combine the oats, coconut, sunflower seeds and sesame seeds. Add the sugar mixture and toss until the oats are evenly coated.

Spread the granola evenly on the prepared pan. Place in the oven on the middle rack and bake for 15 minutes. Remove from the oven and stir to redistribute the granola. Bake for an additional 10 minutes, or until golden brown.  Stir in the dried cranberries.

Let cool completely on the baking sheet. Store the granola in an airtight container.

Happy Friday, y’all!!

Originally posted July 12, 2011.

His Own Commentary

Over the years, we’ve tried to teach James what he may or may not say in public. It’s hard, because sometimes what he says is exactly what everyone else is thinking. We tell him that, instead, he should think what he wants to say but say, “mmm” instead.

Later, of course, we’ll fade out saying the “mmm”. What we’re doing works for now.

Earlier this summer though, we all experienced a situation that put our efforts in non-commenting to the test.

We were at a park here in the St. Louis area and the person in charge of a certain aspect of the tour was in a foul mood. I have no idea why, but her attitude was so angry and her tone so grating that it was almost palpable. All the adults in the group were looking at each other with what is up with that woman? kinds of looks. My youngest 2 sons were busy and didn’t notice her attitude. My 13 year old knew what was going on, of course. And James, well he clued into the situation, too.

That alone should tell you how out there this woman’s behavior was.

Now, in years past, he might have blurted out, in a concerned tone, “Lady, why are you so grumpy?”

But he held back.

I was watching him, though, and when he looked at the woman again and took a deep breath I immediately hustled him off to the side where he sang this song.

(Sorry for the darkness of the shot.)

Commentary duly noted, James.

This is another repost for Autism Awareness Month.

Originally, it was posted on August 21, 2006.  So, 7 years ago.  James was nine.

Interesting note about his knowledge about body terminology — he still doesn’t know the common word for womens’ breasts.  In the tenth grade…how many boys are like that?  The reason that I know is that he’s currently reading a book in English called, Speak.  He has to list and define words from the book that he doesn’t understand.  So, I saw that he had written “boob” as one of his words.

Do you know how he defined it?  Boob — n.  a stupid person; fool; dunce.

So, still not all that clear on terminology.  Oh, well.

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Lumps Over My Heart

After dinner, we were out in the backyard. Jon was playing with #2 and #3, #4 was running around and I was sitting on the steps talking to James.

Oh, that boy.

He noticed the strap of my bra peeping out of my sleeveless shirt and an interesting conversation ensued.

James (pointing) : What’s this?
Me: Something I wear under my clothes. Women wear them.

pause…..

James:Do you wear it for the lumps that you have over your heart?

Lumps that I have over my heart?!

Bless him. He is slowly understanding his world.

So now, the dilemma. Where do I start informing this, basically, guile-less child without giving him lots of terminology that I’m afraid that he would throw around without care for how it is received?

I have to think about this stuff.

Do I want him to know and use the word “breast”?

No, I don’t think that I do right now. Why? Because, this is the child who asks androgenous-looking people what they are. He asks old people if they are old and how their ears got so tall. He tells people that they are not skinny. He does none of this to hurt their feelings — but talking to people like this isn’t good. But it would be so much worse if he asked someone how her breasts got so big, small, waistlength, fill in the blank.

Yes, I think that we’ll just leave it at “lumps over my heart”. That’ll hopefully be okay.

Lumps over my heart. Lumps in my heart. Lumps in my throat.  I think that I’ve got them all.