Home

3 grueling layovers, 4 flights that seemed they'd never end, 1 toddler. It was no easy trip home. Well, home for me, and a visit to baba and deda for Joseph.



Home. It is such a strange, bottomless word. It holds within an endless number of all the places where you've lived, loved, cried, and an endless number of all other meanings we may attribute to it. I left my home at 6 am on a Sunday, I got home at 8 pm on Monday. Two different locations, same place in my heart.
Going back to see the place where you grew up is a bitter-sweet kind of journey. It is as if you are coming to meet yourself 10, 15, X-teen years ago, to see if you have lived up to that person's expectations.
When we travel to other parts of the world, we learn as much about ourselves as we do about other places and people. When we come back home after a few years of being away, we are rediscovering the true selves under layers of what we have become.
We are still a little jet lagged, a little shaken by the change of routine. My toddler is hanging on to my hip 24 hours a day, screaming MAMA every time I step more that 5 feet away.
In the midst of this, we are getting to know new family members, devouring everything home cooked we can lay our stomachs on, and trying to slow down time that flies by way too fast.



More to come... from home.

This Moment

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

Inspired by SouleMama

Project Of The Week: Raspberry Jamming

I remember the time shortly after Joseph was born when he was curled up on my chest, snoozing away, and I dreamt of the time when he will be old enough to take part in things we do. To be fair, his ability to actually DO things is still quite questionable (unlike his cunning talent for producing chaos), yet he is a part of everything I do most days.
I am willing to let him try doing stuff, even if it ends up taking forever, even if to me pouring water from one cup into another doesn't sound like a whole lot of fun. He wants to HELP and I believe that this desire should be encouraged.
This is one of many reasons I am starting these series. Project Of The Week is here to present something outstanding we do every week, something beyond doing dishes or watering back yard (although that could be a subject for a whole different series of posts). It is also a means of remembering all the fun things we are doing together, no matter how mundane they might seem to someone else, no matter how seemingly insignificant my toddler's help is at times.
We begin with a sweet project that is especially dear to my heart. Raspberry Jam. Not just any raspberry jam, but THE raspberry jam, the one I remember from my childhood, the one I hoped one day I would be making for my own family.
When I was little, we lived in a house with a garden, and we had a raspberry patch in the back. It wasn't terribly big, neither did it produce a significant amount, but many a summer afternoon was spent elbowing my way through the overgrown raspberry stalks, scratching the hell out of my arms and legs for a bowlful of the delicious berry.
Most years, the crop was supplemented with extra raspberries we purchased from the local market so that we could make JAM.
This may not be the jam in the strict sense of this word. it does not involve a specific brand of pectin or "12 easy steps", but its simplicity and wonderful taste always win me over.
It was also said that this delicious concoction had many medicinal benefits, the most significant of them being cold relief. I am not sure if there is any scientific back up to this theory, but it sure made me feel a lot better when I came down with sore throat. Hot tea with a lemon wedge and a few spoonfuls (read - a jar) of raspberry jam, and the cold didn't seem to be that bad after all.
Raspberries for this project were picked at The Salmon Ranch which made for a great day trip / project of its own (for which I would have had pictures to show had somebody not forgotten to put memory card back into the camera, ahem).
I would like to note that we didn't wash our berries. In fact, the ranch's brochure advises against it. Raspberries are so fragile, washing them will bruise them unnecessarily, unless you are confident they were treated with some sort of pesticide in which case they should be washed very gently.
Anyway,
Raspberry Jam
Ingredients:
Equal parts of raspberries and cane sugar (for example, 1 lbs of raspberries and 1 lbs of sugar).
Method:
In a pot, layer sugar and raspberries making sure raspberries are well coated.



Cover the pot and put it in the fridge for at least 8 hrs or overnight so that berries could start excreting juice.
8 hours later, or the following day, pour as much of the raspberry / sugar juice from the pot into a different pot and bring to boil. Add the rest of the raspberries and cook on high (the rumor has it that if you cook it on low, raspberries will lose their distinct red color). You will know when the berries are ready, because the mixture starts behaving sort of like boiling milk: it doesn't necessarily bubble, it just starts rising (so make sure you are watching your pot). Turn the heat off. Let the jam cool. Divide among jars, or simply enjoy!
This jam is more liquid-y and still has whole berries in it, and will make for a wonderful topping for ice-creams, and other desserts in need of a companion.
Yum.



note the sugar-dabbed face

And yes, my faithful toddler stood next to me in his learning tower the entire time (at a safe distance from the open flames, may I note). His role included helping me layer raspberries and sugar, which he did remarkably well. So what, if an occasional berry escaped the pot straight into his mouth. Let's count it as a pay for having a pair of (absolutely adorable) helping hands around here.

Keep your eye open for the following projects:
- plant your own herb garden;
- toddler yoga;
- DIY laundry supplies.
Have a great week everyone!

This Moment

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

Inspired by SouleMama

What September?

There is no hiding it now. For a while there, the signs were subtle. A cool breeze here and there, an urge to start cooking up soups, stews and drink tea, smell of freshly sharpened pencils in the air... Now, there is a certain yellow tint to leaves joined by the increased sweater population in my neighborhood. The Fall has graced us with its presence.
And yet, there are still days like this one that seem to say "What September?"



I heart the Voulcan ears







Enjoy your beautiful Fall, everyone!!

This Moment

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see.

Inspired by SouleMama

Good Night, Moon

As the night falls into my house through the windows and skylights, the darkness flows in resembling gooey sticky mass that engulfs everything and everyone, slows us down until we surrender. As the moon rolls in and sets up camp behind our window, a wail thunders through the house, and I know that it's time. Time for a bath, a pajama wrestle followed by a cuddle and a tummy full of mama's milk.



(note my two men sleeping in the exact same pose)

For a while, I listen to his tiny breaths grow steady and deep, I watch his face become lost in the farthest reaches of his dreams, then, I quietly sneak out from under the covers trying my best not to disturb the harmony that is night.
I have always been a night person, and even more so ever since I have embarked on this breath-taking journey of raising a child. Of course, there are nights when I cuddle my toddler, and next thing I know, the alarm is going berserk on the night stand. Most nights, however, I cherish the moments spent alone, just me and the night.



Some nights, I clean up, herd stray socks and clothing items, pull out such highly hazardous, and therefore hidden from the light of day items like iron, scissors, or nail clippers. Other nights, I simply enjoy the poise and tenderness of this hour when the day is stripped of everything that is excessive and superficial, and only true and necessary remains.
There are of course still naps that occur usually once a day and let me conquer some of child-rearing unrelated tasks. Naps, however, tend to end unexpectedly and in the middle of my burning something on the stove, shampooing my hair, or worse yet, right as I dive into the pillows on the couch with a sandwich and a book, hoping for a few minutes away from this world.
Nights, on the other hand, stretch into eternity. At night, the entire world is yours because everyone else is sleeping.



I will probably wish for just five more minutes when the sun starts trickling into the bedroom, and I hear his ever-demanding MAMA. I know I will wish children had a snooze button, I will open my eyes reluctantly and see Joseph sitting up, ready to meet day's adventures head-on.
Sometimes I think that nights like that are more rejuvenating than full 8 hours of shut-eye time. As I am writing this, the night has covered the world around me with a thick blanket of dreams. Even moon turned in for the night, and I just might grab a corner of this starry quilt and tuck myself in. Good night, moon. Sleep tight.