Ora Newman

We go on a stroll almost every evening, usually to the creek that runs about 3 blocks south of our house. But tonight, I felt the itch to go somewhere different. Instead of going south, we went north, turning on a side-street that we've rarely walked on. And lo-and-behold, what a serendipitous decision it was!

We met Ora Newman. She was standing on the sidewalk in front of her house, poking at some weeds with her cane.

"Hello," I said, "Isn't is a lovely evening?"

"Isn't it though?" she replied, "It is such a beautiful night!"

It was cool, the breeze was blowing, and there wasn't a cloud in sight.

Ora (which is also the name of one of Squeeze's paternal Great-Grandmothers) is a small black woman in her mid-late 80's; she uses a cane to get around, hobbles a bit, and wears spectacles so thick they look like magnifying glasses. When she saw that we had a baby in the stroller, she immediately started squawking and crooning, calling him, "Sugar Boy" or "Mother's Love", and asking him how he was enjoying his walk. He smiled at first, but then stared at her wide-eyed until breaking down into intermittent tears.

We talked outside for awhile; we learned that she had lived in her home for 50+ years, her husband, Oscar, had 'passed' 12 years prior, and that they were some of the first black people to move into the neighborhood. She wanted to give Starbeans some mints, something - anything. Then she invited us in, saying "I've got to get this boy something! Ooooo - Mother's Love."

I love Grandmas. In fact, I love anyone's Grandma.

Her home was exquisitely kept and decorated. The carpet, walls, blinds, and drapes were all a light blue. Her home was decorated in 50's style - amazing boxey furniture with gold fabric woven in, lovely sculpture, curved ceilings, and wall-paper in the dining room that could make your mother cry. So ornate, it was shimmery with felted designs that added texture and made me want to touch it. She also had bowls of mints and candies everywhere.

We talked for awhile, and learned that her husband's father, Cecil Newman, had started the first black newspaper in Minneapolis - The Spokesman. She also said that while they were looking at houses in our neighborhood, they were told courteously, "We're sorry - we don't sell to blacks" (by the realtors). It is hard for me to even fathom this concept. However, they had decided on the neighborhood. They liked it, got in contact with a lawyer, and moved in; she said that the neighbors have always been extremely friendly and in the 50+ years that she has lived there, not one thing has ever been stolen from their yard or home. She had a dog for many years that she named, "Joipan". In fact, her neighbor named his dog, "Joi" in honor of her dog and she says that she takes care of him while the neighbor is out of town.

The conversation was punctuated with "Sugar Boy wants some pop - look how hard he is working on that can! He really needs some pop. Com'on now, go on in the kitchen and get a small cup. Oh go on - give him some pop!"

We had to leave before we wanted to, as Squeeze needed to head to bed. (He gets up at 2:30 a.m. with his new job - can we say yikes?) As we were leaving, she said, "Com'on back now, and visit me, Sugar Boy - I mean it!"

We exchanged goodbyes, and while we were parting, she said something very meaningful to me: "You never know who you're gonna meet, or what new friends you'll make!"

All because we took a little detour on our nightly walk.

We will definitely be visiting Ora Newman again: without a doubt.

The Whole Bean

A few years ago, Squeeze and I were at a thrift store near my parent's house with two of my siblings, Seahorse and Squig. The thrift store is owned and operated by a retirement community; the cashiers are resident volunteers.

Sifting through things, Squeeze found an impeccable copy of Mr. Bean - The Whole Bean (The Complete Set). PBS had whetted our appetite for more Mr. Bean, so we put it in the basket with our other treasures for purchase.

It wasn't marked, nor were DVDs listed in the price sheet on the wall, so when we took it to the counter, we asked the woman how much it would cost.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It is a DVD," I said, "it was over with the books and videos."

"A DVD...okay," she said quizzically "errr - what is that?"

"It plays movies, like a VHS tape - but it is a disc, like a CD."

She still seemed confused.

"It was over by the tapes and CDs," I finished lamely.

"Oh...ok...uhhhhh...uhhhhh..."

I waited.

"Uhhhhhm....one dollar."

SCORE!! I hated to celebrate pulling one over on an old lady, but shoot - we didn't do it on purpose. I did my darndest to try and explain to her what it was; it isn't my fault that she didn't have any idea of 1) what it was, or 2) its true value.

I paid my dollar; then Squeeze, Squig, Seahorse and I went out to the car, guffawed, and re-played the interaction like an old record. What a great way to get a Mr. Bean DVD, of all things. He's such a jackass, isn't he?

A smidge of nostalgia

Bear with me, please: I'm feeling a bit nostalgic for my sleepy little newborn. How did that happen so fast??

2 weeks

10 months

Laughter, the best pain-killer

Today, Starbeans was biting me mercilessly.

While nursing.

But the thing about it was - it was so funny! Even though it hurt, I could barely say no biting in a stern voice - let alone without laughter. I kept on turning my face to the side, so he wouldn't think he was being entertaining and feel encouraged to keep up his act. I could - not - stop - snickering.

It was something about his general aura, or the face he was making - chomping on me with his 4 little teeth, so contentedly. He had been nursing lazily, upset when I would take him away, but not really hungry either.

It must have sounded so bizarre to Squeeze, who was in the kitchen. I was chortling and snorting and trying to say no biting - like I had just heard an irresistibly funny joke - while a little sharp-toothed beast was gnawing on my breast.

Bizarre though it was, it makes me smile just thinking about it.

Busy, like a bee

Errrr, I've been busy.

Our flight arrived in Minneapolis at the bleary hour of 5:33 am on Wednesday morning. We spent most of the day in bed, catching up on sleep. Thursday and Friday, I worked; Friday, Squeeze's parents were here and spent the night; Saturday, we went to a family party at his sister's house. Starbeans got to play with all of his cousins. The almost-2 year old was very interested in him; he kept on pointing at him and signing "baby". They are going to be great pals!

We spent today getting ready for Squeeze's new job. He'll be working 3 am to 7 am, five days a week. The hours are horrific, but each of us working part-time equals one full-time income. It will be good. We are hoping for a smooth transition, especially for poor Squeeze. He is getting up at 2:00 am tomorrow morning. Yes, that is 3 hours from now. As the Minnesotan Swedes say, "Uff-da!"

Wish us luck!

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

Has anyone missed me?

I've been at my parents' house for the last week. My sister graduated from high school and my brother graduated from college; it has been a busy time, filled with parties and seeing family and old friends.

A few stories:

• My Great-Aunt Alice tried to feed Starbeans a spoonful of frosting from the graduation cake. It was like a scene out of a movie: her giant hand moving towards his face in slow motion - Starbeans gleefully opening his mouth to it like a little bird - and me, shrieking and holding him back from it like it was a poison death-draught. Literally. Shrieking. She said, "Oh, he doesn't eat frosting?" and I said, "He's never had sugar in his whole life!" She said, "Oh," and withdrew the demon spoon.
• I swear there is a graduate from Western Washington University named, "Invisible Swanson Johnson". I swear it. My sister heard Melissa, but I'm sticking with Invisible.
• Starbeans has learned to bite; I now say, "No biting" several times a day. He responds with a complaining whine: he definitely knows what NO means.
• My mom's horse, Smokey, rubbed the hair and skin off his hind-end scratching himself on a tree. She's treating him with anti-bacterial soap and Bag Balm. Poor thing.
• All of my siblings, as well as my parents, grandparents, and aunts were nutso about his Royal Sweetness - that is, Starbeans. He enjoyed their affectionate attention (I did too).
• I ate 4-5 avocados during the visit. My mom stocked up for my brother Brent to make guacamole, but guess who got to them first? Whoopsie.

It's that POOP again!

For those of you who are big fans of Starbeans (and I know you are), you will be impressed to know that he pooped on the bowl again. The peeing has been hit and miss recently, which discourages me, but the big pooper this morning raised my spirits a bit.

He usually pees right after the poop - however, this morning, I had to take him off the bowl before he could squeeze out even a drop of pee, because he wanted to play in it. Not good.

Some stats about my beloved little squirt:

• He is 10 months old
• He has tasted 7 things - carrots, banana, oatmeal, avocado, bread, grapes, and watermelon. Oh - and cat hair.
• He has 3.5 teeth
• He has pooped on the bowl 3 times now
• He has recovered from 1 black eye (poor thing - he conked his head on a window sill)
• He has attempted to ingest cat hair 135 times

Lovely Lupine

We've thought the white lupine looks so lovely next to the dwarf blue spruce in our backyard. The colors and texture mixed together is quite dramatic.

I've loved lupines since I read the wonderful book by Barbara Cooney - Miss Rumphius. Her illustrations are so comforting to my eyes and mind (the story is interesting too).

Lupines grow wild like that, in large clusters, along the roads above Lake Superior; north of Duluth.

Quite, quite lovely.

Bizarre Behavior

Our new neighbors seem to be fairly thoughtless.

Our list of grievances:

• Their dog (or friends' dogs) get left out in the yard while they are gone. They bark, and bark, and bark, and bark.
• While they were painting their house, with a sprayer, on a windy day, the paint flew all over our car. And the side of our house. This, I can forgive a little more readily, as perhaps they did not realize what was happening. The paint, because of its mist-like consistency, rubs off - thankfully.

and the kicker:

• Their friend just came and parked in our driveway (it's the only one on the block). Its tail is in the street, the mid-section in the sidewalk, and worst of all, it is boxing our car in. We are trapped! No - worst of all, they all left for the night (with the car still in the drive).

PB & J

Our 85 year old friend, Wilburn, came over today. We went on a walk, ate nuts and drank 7up on a blanket, waded in the Minnehaha Creek, then went back to our house for dinner. While we were eating, Wilburn said, "I was reading the other day about a woman who suggested a very healthy and interesting thing to eat."

Expecting the unexpected, we said, "Oh yes?"

"Yes," he said, "She said that she ate peanut butter, and jelly, on bread."

Uhhhhh....

"Do you mean, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?" we asked.

"No, peanut butter with jelly, on bread."

It went back and forth like this for a little bit, until we said, "You've never heard of that...eating peanut butter and jelly together?" and he said, "No, I've eaten jelly and I've eaten peanut butter, but I've never had peanut butter and jelly together."

"Weird," we said. We were both raised eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches; Squeeze even piped in with, "and I eat them at least once a week".

Wilburn said, "Yes, I'll be very interested to try that. It sounds good!"

Learning to be Thankful

There are a few things about where we live that I thought I could never appreciate.

To start off, we live in Minneapolis: the South Side, fairly close to the airport. Our house is situated on a busy street; we don't have the pleasure of a tree-lined boulevard. In addition, we live right on a bus line, so we get to listen to the buses roar by every 20-30 minutes. We also live across the street from an apartment: never good, because of the high turnover rate for renters.

It is our first house, the 1920's bungalow that is so prevalent in South Minneapolis: one and a half stories, cute, with cedar shakes, and a yard that we've been able to beautify with Squeeze's intense interest in gardening. We've learned a lot about what we're looking for in our next house. Requirements include: a quiet street, mature trees, an enclosed front porch (which we have now), and a lot of big windows.

But for now, let's move to my list of Things in Which I've Found Good (that I didn't realize existed before 7.30.05):

• First and foremost, living on a busy street. I've disliked that immensely - it gets stressful to have large numbers of cars streaming by, often speeding towards the inevitable red light. But Baby Cake, that is - Starbeans, loves it. He finds great pleasure in staring at the loud boxes on wheels that ha-rumph down the street in front of our house. Because he likes it, I like it (or, at least a little bit).
• Secondly, living on a bus line. Again, Baby Cake loves to stare at the even louder, even larger, giant boxes on wheels braowowow-ing down the street. Loves it. He will crank his entire body around just to see it. Because he likes it, I like it (or, at least a little bit).
• Finally, living near an International Airport. Our little darling munchkin loves to stare up into the sky to see the large, long tubes with wings kwaowaowaow-ing their way to and from the airport. He'll stop what he's doing and stare with an open mouth, just to see it. Because he likes it, I like it (or, at least a little bit).

And for Squeeze and me, we at least get to watch all the hub-bub and drama happening over at The Apartment. As intrusive as it can be, it is also very entertaining. The old bag who says, "Hurry up - you're walking too slow!" to her meandering husband. The extended Somali family coming and going, speaking their guttural language (the only word I understand is Hooyo - Mother), and the women with their beautiful, flowing scarves. Mixed in, for a dash of excitement, a loud domestic brawl now and then. Oh yes, we've seen it - and we've certainly heard it. We actually have a pretty good group of people in there right now: families and working people, all fairly quiet. Yes, The Apartment has seen worse days.

I like the way it feels to find good in things that I don't like. It makes me feel less stressed, more optimistic, and appreciative of what we have. When the time comes for change, I'll gladly welcome it; but for now, I'm content where we are.

5 Interesting Things (foot related)

• I hate wearing shoes or socks once the thermometer hits 50. You couldn't pay me to put on socks and shoes in the summer!
• I wiggle my toes while I wake up in the morning.
• I have a U-shaped scar on my left pointer-toe. I have no idea where it came from; I used to tell people it marked me as a princess, not unlike Elora Danan.
• I've bitten my toe-nails before (during some point in elementary school). I guess I needed more nails to chew on than my fingers could offer.
• A guy I went to high school with, who was well-known for his foot fetish, took a picture of my feet without me knowing it. He posed me on a picnic table, legs straight out, feet facing forward. When I said that I thought I had blinked for the picture and he said, "Oh, that doesn't matter" is the moment I realized, "Errrr...he just took a picture of my feet!"

Halloween Conundrum

Hmmm...I'm already planning ahead, and I just can't figure out what Starbeans will be for Halloween this year.

It's quite a conundrum.

Grand Royale

Within the last few months, a group of mid-20's single Mexican guys moved into the house across the street and to the left. I would say there are 3-4 guys. The woman who lived there before was very quiet, but loved to spy on people out her front window.

The new guys love to play their Musica. Loud.

At 2:00 am this morning, I was awakened by the noise of Musica; so loud that it was like I was listening to it on my own stereo, only our doors and windows were tightly shut. I got up, looked through the blinds and saw 2 of our neighbors, standing by their car, admiring it. The car doors were wide open. Remember, this was at 2:00 am. I groped through my closet, pulled on a dress, and marched out into the street barefoot. By this time, they were sitting in the car with the windows rolled up.

I walked up to their car (the driver turned to see me just as I arrived) and rapped on the driver's side window as loudly as I could; partly so they could hear me, partly so they knew I was serious. He meekly began to open the door, which I so generously helped him open to the widest possible position, and continued to rip him a new one.

I assertively, but not aggressively, expounded on how I had been sleeping, how they so rudely woke me up, and the music needed to be turned DOWN. I finished by saying repeatedly, "I was asleep. I was asleep. I was sleeping." and for a little extra umph, I said, " I was sleeping with my baby." He looked a little ashamed (which he should be) and said, "I know" to which I replied, "Please" in a plaintive tone, and then "Thank you".

Then I marched home.

They went inside.

I must say, I enjoy conflict when I am so clearly in the right. It's fun to get a little heinous on a pesky rascal's anus. But still, let's hope it doesn't happen again.

Get 'er done

Tulipgirl had a great post a few days ago about reducing unwanted telemarketing calls, junk mail, and junk email. Check it out!

I can't stand the stuff. As if we aren't already bombarded enough already! I've had a couple interesting tangles with telemarketers before apathy zapped me.

In the first instance, I said to the guy, "You know, you must be miserable - you have one of the suckiest jobs out there", to which he agreed wholeheartedly. We spent the next couple of minutes kvetching about what a crapper of a job he had. The only reason why he worked there, he said, was because he couldn't find anything else. If that message was "recorded to serve you better", he probably got The Can.

The second call was with a guy from Qwest who tried to talk me into fancy-shmancy this-and-that full-service phone package. I countered his every attack until he conceded defeat. He finally said, "You're right, you've got a better thing going on" and hung up. Yesssss. Amongst other things, why pay 7 dollars a month for voicemail when you could simply use a digital answering machine? It has all the same capabilities.

I'm most excited about the National Do Not Call Registry. I despise phone calls (family and friends excluded).

More Poop

Starbeans pooped in the bowl again this morning!!
I was very proud.

My Spring Ritual

Since graduating from college in 2000, without fail, Spring Fever hits me like a cyclone. For better or worse, it has sent me into a tail-spin that leaves me with a new 'do. As in, Hair-do.

I blame many things: abysmally long and colorless Minnesota winters, less distraction from the socially-charged atmosphere of school, too close examination in the bathroom mirror under bright lights, etc.

Historically, Spring Fever hits me in April, but the last two years, it has been May. Can you guess what I did last weekend? It turned out all right, considering. The uneven bits aren't even noticeable from a distance. Once, I took shears - yes, hair-clippers - to my pony-tail, which left me looking like a lopped-off brown dandelion. That was Spring Fever at its worst. Another time, I cut my hair so beautifully that, at work, people from all over the building were coming to view my masterpiece. That was Spring Fever at its best.

Every year has concluded with a call to my friend, Jeana, who obligingly fixes my car-crash of a hair-cut. The only exception was the Year of the Masterpiece, but she was still involved; I called her frantically, begging for her to come over and do it, before I wreaked havoc on my own head. She couldn't, but gave me exact instructions on how to do it well - patience, one layer at a time, keep the hair wet, use a hand-mirror, etc. Her advice may seem obvious, but it was a revelation to me. Patience? Use a mirror??

I followed her direction; it worked well. And while I haven't had as golden of a hair-cut since the Masterpiece of 2003, it has been good enough for me. Errr, once Jeana fixes it.

Artfully Asleep

Toots and Hussy

The Importance of Water

Surprisingly, water is the one basic need that is most often over-looked when setting up a backyard birding habitat.

The Backyard Bird Watcher
George H. Harrison

We installed our sweet little bird bath in our side garden 3 years ago. The first year, no birds came near and it served more as a decorative addition to our then barely-fledged garden. Last year, a few braves robins bathed themselves; we were jealous over who got to see them ("What?? You got to see the robin?!"). This year, it has been the central attraction a plethora of neighborhood birds. It is so thrilling to see them drinking from the water and bathing in it. This weekend, there was 4-5 birds in queue, fluttering around it - impatiently awaiting their turn. The robins seemed to be the bossiest.

Today, I saw the male cardinal shaking his little tushy in the bird bath, in that funny bird-bathing way. Over the weekend, we saw rosy finches, robins, and chikadees shaking their little tushies too (that little rascal, the house finch, was using it as well). We always stop by the window and watch - transfixed. Aside from the simple pleasure of observing their behavior and beauty, I like knowing that they're enjoying something that we specifically set out for them.

If only babies and birds knew the pleasure they bring to me.

I think the reason that we are finally getting some traffic is that our plants have grown up enough to provide some protective covering for them, so they feel a little more safe. Harrison says, "Bird bathes work well and certainly are an asset to any yard without water. They work best, however, near cover where birds can quickly escape from predators." In our meager 3 year experience, we have definitely found this to be true.

Happy birding!

Cloth Diapering: Part II

The best way to buy cloth diapers is through an online company. They have a large selection; there is a lot to choose from. Unless you live near a specialty baby shop, you are not going to find many options at the colossus chains. From my friend Nelly's advice, I bought our diapers off of clothdiaper.com. I like our diaper package, but I found Green Mountain Diapers more helpful in exploring options (I ran into this site after the fact). They provide more information about differences in the of choices of diapers & accessories as well as pictures of the diapers on real babies. Another good site is Julie's Stuff.

From my experience, I've created a list of what is needed for a cloth diapering system. Once again, I would like to re-iterate how economical, earth-friendly, and easy it is. People who aren't exploring this option are missing out.

Everything you need to diaper your baby:


Pre-fold diapers: This is your standard diaper, sewn together so you don't have to do any fancy "folds" before you put it on baby. The package I bought has 48 newborn and 36 large sizes (to fit up to 30 lbs). This has been more than sufficient.

Snappis: Instead of pins, use Snappis! They are so easy, quick, and there is no risk of poking baby (or yourself). They hold the diapers with small claws on each end - kind of like an ace bandage.

Bummi Super-Whisper Wraps: These are not the plastic pants of yester-year. They have velcro (or snaps) and go on like a disposable diaper. So handy! Having 6-8 of each size (newborn, small, medium) is sufficient.


Flannel Wipes: I like these so much - they are very gentle on little bottoms. Just wash them with your diapers. I keep them in a basket near the Wipe Solution. It feels good not to throw them away! I have 2 sets of 15.

Wipe Solution: 1 cup distilled water to 3 drops lavender oil & 3 drops tea tree oil. An olfactory delight! Use distilled water; it is void of impurities and doesn't get stinky as it ages.

1-2 squeeze bottles: Use them for the wipe solution. Keeping the wipes wet is silly and putting the solution in a spray bottle is even sillier (oh, your aching wrists!). Just wet your wipes right before you use them.

2 Bummi Water-proof Totes: 1 small tote for the diaper bag, 1 large tote for the diaper pail. Just pull out the tote and bring it down to your washing machine; it's as easy as that. Instead of cleaning out dirty diaper pails, wash the totes with your diapers.

1 diaper pail: Scented disks are not necessary.