Lola Can't Always Get What She Wants

This past weekend Thomas was at SOAK, the Portland regional Burning Man event. The regional events are a bit more low-key than the main event - really more of a weekend camping trip (but louder and more bedecked). SOAK is held at a gorgeous piece of property in the woods outside of Salem, Oregon. Instead of being completely abandoned for the long weekend, this year the kids and I decided to join Thomas for the last two days of the event.

I decided to attend the event largely due to the lure of the trailer that Thomas recently acquired to take to Burning Man (he's on staff this year), which is equipped with running water, refrigeration, a bathroom, and air conditioning. So I figured I'd have a plush retreat for the kiddos if they got bored or hot. Unfortunately, there were too many people drawing from the circuit the trailer was plugged into, and the air conditioning wouldn't stay on. Also unfortunately, it was nearly 100 degrees. I'll admit it, I am NOT a happy camper when it's hot. So I didn't end up enjoying the event much (and I hereby apologize to everyone who was there for my surliness!), but the kids had a really great time.

Across from our camp was Kids Villa, where there were several fun things for the maybe two dozen kids at the event to do. Center stage at Kids Villa was a trampoline (this one off the ground, unlike the one in our backyard). You'd have thought Elliot had never seen a trampoline before. He spent the majority of our time at the event bouncing on it with kids about twice his size (and holding his own). Elliot also really liked the fire truck that was on site to oversee the burning of the Man. Here he is checking out the cab and the mirrored hub caps.


And here is the super cool Man that was built for the event this year, upside down and complete with clown wig and shoes.


I went to bed in the finally-cooled-down trailer with the kids before the burn on Saturday night, but it was apparently a good show. The kids and I headed back to Portland Sunday morning before the temperature had a chance to get boiling again, and Thomas joined us by evening.

I learned two things at the event.

One. My Burning Man days are probably over, at least until the kids are older (though Elliot was a total champ, and Imogen was mostly happy even though she couldn't get off my sweaty back very often to crawl around). I should remember that I don't like heat, I don't like noise, and I don't like crowds and keep my grumpy butt home next time. I do like art and crazy costumed people and being outside, though. So you never know. Maybe I'll give SOAK a try again next year if it's not ten bazillion degrees.

Two. Elliot is the best little boy ever. He was the youngest kid playing on the trampoline and was having the best time of anyone, even though the bigger kids were pretty mean to him on several occasions. A positive flip side to the part of Elliot's autism that makes him oblivious to the fact that kids are being mean to him is that he doesn't get his feelings hurt. And I know that he'll never be the mean kid himself. He did a great job of interacting with the kids and trying to make up games, despite the older kids' occasional confusion or irritation with him. He's a super star.

So, SOAK wasn't a total wash (pun intended). Imogen was admired by all and Elliot had a fantastic time. I'll rediscover Lola (my nom-de-playa) someday. Until then, I'll leave the Burn to Thomas (aka @pparatus, his Ranger handle) and be here to welcome him home when he returns.

Embracing My Monica Nature

Most of you Gen-Xers out there are familiar with the long-running and fairly recently ended TV show, Friends. For those of you unfamiliar with the show, there is a character named Monica who gets teased for her OCD personality. And I get teased for being exactly like Monica.

Exhibit A: my bookshelf. The books are organized by genre, and then alphabetized by author. And within each author's section, the books are alphabetized again by title.


In my defense, I also used to do this with my CDs, but I've come a long way, baby. While the CDs are still grouped by genre, the albums within them are in completely random order. Luckily, we listen to most of our music on the computer, and the machine does the alphabetizing for me.

Exhibit B: my closet. Actually, this is a picture of Thomas's closet. I maintain everybody's closets. Thomas's shirts are organized by type (Hawaiian, bowling, short-sleeved, dress shirts) and then hung up by color. Don't laugh. It makes picking out a shirt to coordinate with the suit and tie much faster.


Exhibit C: the playroom. Yes, I know. It's a playroom. But Elliot is exactly like me in many respects. He likes to have everything just so. He likes to return items to their proper places when he's done playing with them. I don't see this as a problem. It's an asset.


Imogen, on the other hand, makes her way around the playroom, pulling out toys as she goes. She plays with them, throws them all over the place, and then moves on to the next thing. I can only follow her around cleaning up after her for so long. She'll be good for both of the OCD personalities in this house.

Having kids has actually helped me relax about the organization thing somewhat. Again, don't laugh. I said somewhat. I'm just slightly less frantic about having everything just so at all times. But it's true, I can't fall asleep at night if there are dishes in the sink or Thomas has left the curtain on the closet open slightly. I really will get out of a warm bed with a sleeping baby next to me to remedy the situation. I can't help it. And yes, I do go back to my old blog entries and edit them whenever I find typos or think of something I left out. It's never too late for perfection.

So I'm embracing my Monica nature. Someone out there needs to keep the world in order. Admit it, you don't actually think I'm crazy. You're just a wee bit jealous. You want me to come organize your cupboards and file cabinets, I can see it in your eyes. Nanny, nanny, boo, boo.

Home Remedy

Every time either my mom or my sister-in-law, Kate are in town, I learn about another amazing home remedy for my family. My mom is an herbalist (among other things!), and it's not unusual to find her in the yard during a visit, picking dandelion greens for lunch or harvesting the usnea off the trees or the nettles from the meadow surrounding her yurt on Orcas Island. There are plenty of skeptics out there (including my husband, sometimes!), but all I know is that I don't get sick when I take echinacea as soon as my throat feels scratchy, and a few droppersfull of catnip tea helps a baby's gas and puts her to sleep.

When Kate (a midwife) was in town for Imogen's birth, Elliot had an absolutely wicked cold. Kate did the best thing she could have done for us during our first days home with the new baby - she nursed Elliot's cold, read to him, and snuggled with him on the couch. From her, I learned that rubbing 5 drops of lobelia tincture onto Elliot's back at bedtime would calm his cough and help him sleep (I've since tried this on myself - 10 drops for me - and it's truly a wonder!). I also learned how to treat an ear infection with ear drops made from warm olive oil and garlic instead of antibiotics (smelly, but it worked!).

This past week while Kate was in town, I learned about a new home remedy to speed up teething. All you parents out there know that teething can be a long, brutal process (it certainly was for Elliot, and Imogen is just starting down that road). Those little "toofers," as we call them, can take forever to poke through the gums, rising and falling over and over again over weeks and weeks until they finally break the surface. So we're currently trying out a choker necklace made from allspice berries strung on dental floss. The allspice is supposed to tighten the tissues around the teeth so that they break through sooner and more easily. Kate soaked the berries in water to make them easier to string with a needle.


Imogen has been wearing her necklace (which, incidentally, makes her look impossibly cute and hip) for a few days now. She doesn't even notice it, but it makes her smell deliciously like pumpkin pie and spiced cider.


The berries will gradually fall off over a couple of weeks, and then you make a new necklace. Little girl had a rough teething night last night, so hopefully those teeth that were bothering her at 2am will bust through extra fast thanks to her new hipster home remedy fashion statement. I'll keep you posted!

Aunt Kate headed back to Michigan yesterday. We miss her already! We can't wait for her to come back and visit us again soon. Who knows what handy remedy she'll teach us next?

The Calm After the Storm

The house seems very, very quiet today. Kate and Pat headed to Michigan this morning, and Thomas and Elliot are off on an elevator adventure. After the events of this past week, today seems almost eerily calm.

We held Michael's memorial service at the house yesterday, and it was a truly beautiful day. The weather was perfect, the ceremony was lovely, and we were in good company. I actually missed the entire service while tending children inside, since Elliot wouldn't stop talking (typical) and Imogen wouldn't stop fussing (not typical, but she's teething and has her brother's cold). Here we are before the service began, hanging out in the backyard.


Pat set up a very nice altar for Michael's ashes, as you can see here.


Pat led a Native American pipe ceremony, and everyone had a chance to say goodbye. We chose a poem by Joy Harjo, one of my very favorite poets and a Native American herself, for the program. The poem could have been in Michael's own words.


Fury of Rain

Thunder beings dance the flooding streets
of this city, stripped naked to their electric skeletons.
I stand inside their wild and sacred ritual
on these streets of greasy rainbows
and see my own furious longing
erupt from the broken mask of change
to stone, to bear, to lightning.
Gut memory shakes this earth like a rattle,
knocking my teeth with heroic thunder.
I could have lied
and not seen my own death
dancing in the streets, the main shady
character forcing me to live.
What can I do but celebrate after
guarding the wreck for thirty-five years, in
this ceremony larger than a damp, suspicious city?
We are all in the belly of a laughing god
swimming the heavens, in this whirling circle.
What we haven't imagined will one day
spit us out
magnificent and simple.

Joy Harjo, from In Mad Love and War
Wesleyan University Press, 1990


I also want to include here a poem I wrote for Michael many years ago.


Fox Pieces, Orcas Island

It is the island rummage sale, in the rain.
Here, everyone has what is necessary,

and little that is not. The tables are lined
with bones, chicken feet, skins,

a headdress dangling small vertebrae
and soft, striped feathers. We stand before

a box labeled fox pieces, talk ourselves
into lifting the cardboard lid. Scraps of fur,

red hairs bristling on squares of skin.
You say your adopted brother would like

to be here, gathering bones and teeth.
Where is he this time, drinking, brown skin

bruising into blue? His hands bent
the dream catchers over our bed, tied the antler

bead to my wrist. You never know how
to touch him, what will bring him home.

With my eyes, I talk to the box of skins,
will the fox to assemble and walk into the rain.

Brittney Corrigan, copyright 2002. All rights reserved.


It's fitting that our last time with Michael was spent on Orcas Island. It's also fitting that this morning the rains came, after a gorgeous day of sun, breeze, and sky for the memorial. As Kate remarked last night as we were dropping off the leftover food from the service at a homeless shelter (Michael spent much of his life homeless, so we knew he would appreciate the gesture), now Michael is free from a life of not knowing where his next meal would come from, or having to endure any humiliation. She also reflected yesterday that not many people who lead the kind of life that he did have the support and love of so many friends and family members.

Michael, now that your storm is over, may you walk through the rain to the other side, whole. May you finally come to rest. We will always love you and miss you.

Serendipity

Serendipity keeps life interesting. It helps us remember that the world is never short on wonder.

My good friend Ellen Notbohm writes about a mantra that helped her in parenting a child on the autism spectrum in her book, The Autism Trail Guide. Here is the quote:

"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says 'I will try again tomorrow.'"
- Mary Anne Radmacher-Hershey

Yesterday, while checking in on my friend Jim's blog, there was the same quote, helping him out, as well. And it has been a good mantra to have this past week as our family grieves Michael's death. Serendipity.

The one positive thing about a funeral, however, is that it brings family together. It has been quite wonderful to have the family around all week. Imogen has especially enjoyed all the attention (so has Elliot, but he refused to pose for a picture). Here is Miss Idgie with Papa Pat and Nona. Thank goodness for grandchildren to make everyone appreciate the living.



Imogen has also been pleased as punch to be reunited with her Aunt Kate, who was (almost) there for her birth. Here's Imogen getting loved up by Kate.



We're now focused on planning Michael's memorial service, which will be at our house this Saturday. Pat will be leading a Native American pipe ceremony, and we expect it to be a really beautiful, healing event. Thanks so much to all our friends and family out there who have sent your condolences, thoughts, and prayers our way this past week. If any of you would like to make a donation in Michael's memory, you can give to the Red Cloud Indian School in Pine Ridge, South Dakota.

May something serendipitous happen to you today. And on that note, I'll leave you with a poem (I'm going to start including more poetry on the blog for you, by popular demand).


Angels

The man at the watch counter watching us
says I don't question how angels come to me
we have chosen the watch
he didn't know he wanted
he wants one too calls us
angels I feel the nubs of wings turn
my eyes to him rough something
renegade leather torn edges
his partner thin more frail a watch
for him too two identical watches
identical to the one we've chosen
but do not buy I feel the nubs of wings
remember the flocking
sandhill cranes surprising us
among geese taller and voices
lifted the brown bodies walking
through wetland soft rain coming
in wind hundreds walking opening
wings and dancing calling
across cold spring afternoon
how often do we get to be angels
nothing to do with watches
with wings or not wings
two men buying identical watches
us turning away from timekeeping
I don't question how angels come

Brittney Corrigan, copyright 2002, all rights reserved.

Sillysaurus

Both my brothers-in-law, Mitchell and Michael, had fantastic senses of humor. So today's post, in their honor, is no sadness and all silliness. I think they would approve.

But first, here's evidence that we live in a truly gorgeous city. This is Mt. Hood as viewed from the top of Rocky Butte, which is just a couple of miles from our house. It's finally summer.


And now for the sillies. First up, here is Imogen trying her first solid food - the hippie, organic version of Cheerios. She loves playing with them, and picking them up, and throwing them on the floor. But as soon as she puts them in her mouth, she starts crying. She'll put anything else she finds on the floor into her mouth, but O's? Forget this, Mama. Silly girl. Maybe she's just holding out for chocolate, like any sensible daughter of mine would.


I also must share with you some more funny Elliotisms.

* Elliot asked the other day what our alphabet was called. I told him it's the Roman alphabet. That's too boring, apparently. We should all be referring to it instead as the "robot alphabet."

* One of Elliot's favorite things to do right now is spell. He's learned to use the keyboard and likes to type his favorite words into a word processing program. However, you should know that in these programs, you don't actually open a new "document." What you're actually creating is a "soccer field."

Nona likes to refer to Elliot as a "sillysaurus." Here he is wearing Papa's hat and singing "cheese" at the top of his lungs for Mama to take a picture.


And it's been awhile since you've had an update on the birds. We had a feeling that Joey the duck thought she was a chicken for quite some time, but she now has embraced her duck nature and will take long swims and baths in the wading pool. Her ever-loyal companion, Pippin, however, appears to think she's a duck. She hasn't tried to swim yet (apparently chickens aren't completely daft), but she does nest on the ground of the coop with Joe instead of roosting inside the hen house at night with Dixie, and she has recently learned how to quack. Really. A chicken trying to quack is just about the funniest thing you could ever hear. We'll get it on video one of these days, and I'll share it with you. Crazy birds.

Finally, here's something to occupy you in those moments of boredom while you're sitting in traffic, or zoning out during a staff meeting, or trying to think about something other than who needs a diaper change or a snack and how you really don't want to do that puzzle one more time. My friend Kerry has a great party game in which you design a "pop culture dinner party." It should be equal parts interesting, lively, and controversial. I love this idea and have been changing the picks for my dinner party ever since she shared her picks on her blog. Here are my current picks, with kudos to Kerry for this fabulously fun idea.

#1 Ty Pennington. He's the super sexy and peppy host of Extreme Makeover Home Edition. He's eye candy, he seems like a heck of a nice guy, he's not afraid to cry, and he has ADHD. I think he'd make any party more interesting.

#2 Simon Cowell. For those of you who never turn on your TV, he's the brutally honest judge on American Idol. I'm not a reality show addict. Really I'm not.

#3 M. Night Shyamalan. He's my favorite director. You'll remember him best from The Sixth Sense. I may not be addicted to reality television, but I do love me a good scary movie (read: NOT a slasher flick).

#4 Sherman Alexie. He's one of my favorite authors. He's Native American, brilliant, and ridiculously funny.

#5 Martin Sheen. Because he's completely wacko. And he made a better president than George W. Bush.

#6 John Ondrasik. He's the front man for the band Five for Fighting. He wants to save the world. And he has a great falsetto.

#7 Carl Kasell. Who wouldn't want to meet the man behind the incredible voice on NPR? (Does this still count as pop culture, Kerry?)

#8 (This is going to be a big dinner party, but we need a woman!) Sarah Vowell. She's funny, she's insightful, and she has the best voice ever (sorry, Carl).


So there you have it. A completely silly day. We all need those once in awhile.

What the Living Do

Thanks to everyone who has sent their supportive thoughts and condolences our way since my brother-in-law, Michael died two days ago. We found out yesterday that he died from a heroin overdose. He was found around 3pm, and we know he had talked to a good friend on the phone around 1pm that day. The crow came to us around 2:30pm.

The family has been gathered together at our house since Thursday, and the twins' biological father arrived in town today. There will be a ceremony with the Native community at Eagle Creek tomorrow evening, and a memorial service here in Portland next weekend. We are thankful for every moment we had with Michael. For every time he came home.

Today I have been thinking about the poem by Marie Howe, "What the Living Do." In the poem (which Thomas read at his brother Mitchell's memorial service 9 years ago), she writes about continuing on with her daily routines, the small details of her life, after the death of her brother. I have been thinking about how having Elliot and Imogen in our lives at this time is a blessing. Not only do they have needs that must still be met - meals, bedtime, diapers - keeping us busy, but they are joyful and fun, reminding us of how wonderful our lives really are. And today we have been doing what the living do - laundry, making lunch, visiting friends.

And so today, a post about something joyful. Imogen turned 9 months old today. She now has two teeth, is crawling, can stand and cruise around furniture, is starting to make signs for "eat", "more", and "milk" ("nursie"), and is eating all sorts of yummy smooshed foods. Here are this month's comparison photos of Imogen and big brother Elliot.



How can anyone stay sad for long when these two children smile at you? Today, it is gorgeous outside. We have been looking at photos and videos of Michael and playing outside in the sunshine, remembering him. We will carry him with us always, as we carry ourselves through the dailiness of our lives, doing what the living do.

As The Crow Flies

I wanted to let everyone know that Thomas's brother, Michael (Uncle Mike), was found dead yesterday evening. We do not yet know what happened, except that he was found behind a church, taken to a hospital, and could not be revived. We will let you all know when we have more details.

We will be spending today with Nancy, Vic, and Patrick, and Thomas's sister Kate is arriving from Michigan this afternoon. There will be a memorial service in Portland in the next few days and one in Michigan in the coming weeks.

We are especially grateful to have spent last weekend with Michael on Orcas Island. We had an amazing trip, and we will carry those memories of him close to our hearts.

For those of you who didn't know him, Michael was one of the kindest, most thoughtful, and funniest people you could ever meet. Despite his troubled life, he always came home to his family. He was incredibly good with his nieces and nephews, and I know that both Elliot and Imogen are going to miss having him around. Here he is with both of them last weekend on Orcas.



Yesterday afternoon while I was playing with the kids upstairs in the play room, a crow flew into the window. I'm sure it was Michael coming to say goodbye to us. When Michael's twin, Mitchell died almost 9 years ago, two hawks flew into windows - one at Thomas's office building downtown, and another on the reservation where the twins were born in Munsee, Ontario.

Michael, wherever you are, may you now rest easy. We'll miss you.

Think About Kitty Cats

When I was a little girl, if I was sad, or sick, or had woken up from a nightmare, my mom would tell me to "think about kitty cats." And it always worked. I did feel happier, and I could always fall back to sleep. You should try it sometime. It still works for me. Thinking about kitty cats always makes me feel better.

Which is why my favorite scene on the TV show Scrubs is a hilarious J.D. daydream about a kitten cure for a broken heart. You can check it out here. Another of my favorite kitten comedy moments is a comic strip I kept for years - Mr. Boffo. The character is looking at the classified ads and exclaims, with an I-can't-believe-it look on his face, "Free kittens?!?!?". It still makes me giggle. Anyway. Y'all probably think I'm nuts now. I'll have you know I'm nowhere near as crazy as my husband, who spends ridiculous amounts of time looking at silly pictures of cats on the internet each Saturday on the Caturday website.

Well, a love for cats appears to be genetic. If Imogen is crying, she will immediately stop if I say the word "kitty" to her. I kid you not. My first word was "kitty," and I expect it to be her first word, too. Here she is playing with Tess and Greg's cats, Lucy and Spooky Jack, on Orcas Island last weekend.



Our own cats are doing quite well after a year in our new house. Cooper is quite the old man - he's 16 now and looking arthritic and scraggly, but he's still the affectionate scaredy cat that he ever was. Rufus is large and in charge, as usual. Here they are hanging out on the back porch this morning, waiting for the June sun that we hope will finally arrive this weekend.


And on a completely unrelated note, a big thank you to Michael for finishing the wallpaper removal and paint job on our kitchen. The final product looks lovely, and I'm finding a nice pale green a much more welcoming cooking and eating environment than grammatically incorrect wallpaper. Here are some before and after shots.



Ok, back to playing with the kitty cats. My neighbor around the corner has a cat who just had kittens a few weeks ago. I'm hoping to take Imogen to meet them sometime soon. I'm going to try really hard not to come home with one. Who doesn't love a soft, frisky kitten? Meow!!

Orcas Island Epic Adventure

We got home last night from an epic, long weekend adventure on Orcas Island with the Whites. Therefore, this is going to be an epic, long post!

We brought Uncle Mike with us for his first visit to the island, and everyone had a fabulous time. We headed out on Wednesday afternoon to drive to Seattle, where we spent the night with our good friends Nic, Kristen, and Japhy. While we waited for Nic to get home from work, we all walked to the farmer's market where Elliot had a blast on the several bouncy castles. We were then joined by Nic, who had just gotten back from a field trip taking his class to hunt for geoducks. Here's Nic posing with one of his prize specimens.


Elliot loved playing with baby Japhy (who turned one on Friday - happy birthday!) and hanging out with the six chickens in the garden.


Bright and early on Thursday morning we headed for the ferry terminal in Anacortes. It was pouring rain when we arrived, so unfortunately we spent the whole wait time inside. Despite the rain, the ferry ride was still gorgeous, and a good time was had by all. Here are Thomas and Michael hamming it up on the deck.



By the end of the ferry ride, the kids were ready to be at our destination and spend their cooped-up-in-the-car-energy with their cousins. Here they are driving Papa batty.


We spent Thursday afternoon hanging out and playing. Then everyone except myself and Imogen went to Erin's school concert (I hear the big hit was her class singing "Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da"). The end of the concert brought frolicking on the school grounds beneath a lovely rainbow before heading home to bed.


On Friday morning, Elliot raided his cousins' dress up box and emerged as a pirate princess (I think that's what I'll be for Halloween this year!)


We spent Friday in town checking out the shops and playing at the park. Elliot had a great time running around in the world-class skate park with Papa and Uncle Mike. Here's a picture of the very cool entrance to the park.


After several rounds of running the bases on the many baseball diamonds, much fun was had on the playground with the cousins.



Even Imogen enjoyed her first time on a play structure, with a little help from her Uncle Mike.


On our way back to the White homestead, we stopped at the waterfront, where the tide was out and we could walk out to Indian Island. There were several very colorful starfish awaiting the tide's return.


Inspired by Nic's successful hunt, Thomas and Michael decided to try their hand at digging for geoducks. We met a very nice native couple and their two daughters, and the hunter-gatherer men came away with several impressive critters to show for their efforts. The beach was also littered with teeny, tiny crabs, which were too tempting to resist for some brotherly teasing.



We lost track of time and got caught wading back to Orcas when the tide came in, but it was worth it!

On Saturday, we spent most of the day playing and fishing at Cascade Lake in Moran State Park. We picnicked and played on the playground, and Imogen spent some quality time with Emilie, the daughter of Tess's best friend, Kathryn.


While Mike, Thomas, and Grayson took the canoe out onto the lake, Tess and Greg were actually cited side by side for a few minutes without the kids!


No fish were caught on the lake, but a couple of trout were caught by Greg from the pier. Here are Greg and Grayson posing with the day's catch, which we fried up for dinner.


The kids also had fun hanging out on the pier watching other folks fish and examining a crawdad that someone reeled in.


We finished up the day with a visit to the top of Mt. Constitution. The sun finally came out and we were able to enjoy the 360 degree view of the islands for as long as the kids would let us (just a few minutes, but still!).


We headed out Sunday morning for the long trip home. The kids were troopers, and the drive was super lovely thanks to Papa Pat, who graciously loaned us his mini-van for the trip. We now have serious mini-van envy, and I really didn't want to give it back (are you sure you don't want to trade for the Subaru, Pat?). All in all, a fabulous trip. I'll leave you with a little musical show courtesy of Willow and Erin.



Thanks to the Whites for hosting us and showing us a wonderful time on Orcas!!

If Walls Could Talk

We're finally getting around to removing the last of the wallpaper from our house, which is in the kitchen. (And by "we," I mean my fantastic brother-in-law, Michael). And actually, it's not really the last remaining wallpaper. We left the fun jungle scenes in the playroom (for now), and this bit of hilarious and possibly original wallpaper is hiding out in Elliot's closet.


The kitchen was covered with this not-too-offensive-but-still-not-our-style wallpaper when we moved in last summer.


The pansies and garden motif aren't so bad, but the "writing on the wall" has always bothered me. The wallpaper is covered with quotes about nature and gardening. Thoreau is all well and good, but the inconsistent grammar and punctuation of the writing really offends my obsessive-compulsive sensibilities. Here's what I've been dealing with every time I eat a meal:


You can see that the "quotations" fall into several categories:

1. Quotes attributed to actual people and correctly put in quotation marks.
2. Quotes attributed to actual people but not put in quotation marks.
3. Quotes not attributed to anyone but put in quotation marks anyway.
4. Quotes not attributed to anyone and not put in quotation marks.

It's enough to drive any editor-type person insane. Even more annoying is the misquoting of Thoreau. The wallpaper says, "Heaven is under our feet as well as our heads." Yes, you can cringe with me, fellow grammar nuts. The correct quote, from Walden, is "Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads." Who proofreads wallpaper, anyway? Maybe there's a job for me when I go back to being a working mom...

Anyway. Back to our regularly-scheduled blog entry. When Michael starting removing the wallpaper yesterday, we discovered that there are five, count 'em, five layers of wallpaper in the eating nook. For those of you who haven't been here, we have a 1925 cottage, and some of this wallpaper looks like it goes back at least to the 1930s. Which is kind of cool, except when you're trying to get rid of it in a 24-hour wallpaper steamer rental period (we ended up keeping the machine an extra day). Here is a sample of some of the patterns that were beneath the top layer.


I'm actually kind of charmed by one of the layers. If it was the one that had been here when we moved in, I might have been tempted to leave it be and go retro with the kitchen. I'm guessing it's maybe 1940s or 1950s, and it looks like this:


Alas, it was layer #2, so it's in pretty hard shape (and smells like cigarette smoke, like most of the lower layers). Here is what the removal of five layers of wallpaper looks like:


And this is where we left off last night:


Luckily, the rest of the kitchen has very little wallpaper, and it's only one layer deep. So Michael should have an easier time of it today. Call me crazy, but I just can't get behind wallpaper coming back in vogue. Sure, it's classy and trendy now, but I keep thinking about the people who are going to buy these houses in 50 years and the hours of scraping they'll have to do. I'll stick to paint, thank you very much. You can change the look of a room in just a couple of hours. And I love to paint.

So... stay tuned for the painted incarnation of the kitchen coming soon to a blog near you!