Baking with Erin and Rory

Virtual Holiday Lights Tour at Casa Zuniga

Here we go! Note: this doesn't capture all of our lights, but it gives you an idea of what's going on in our yard.

giggly girls on the festive lawn pre-dark.

flamingo!

peace chickens!

the ones taken in the dark are a wee bit blurry.

Snoopy #1 guards the wall.

festive little penguin

Buddha got in on the action too.

These little buddies all appear to be receiving a dharma talk. Note: D found all of these in the trash.

snowman and deer

Snoopy #2 is a sentry in the side yard.

I call this next series: Where's Wal-David?

Do you see him?

How about here? Pooh was also found in the trash.

And here?

What about now?

Happy holidays, everyone! And remember:

yes, it happened.

p.s. Do you need to re-home holiday lawn art? Contact us!

Christmas Lights

My kooky husband loves Christmas lights. He invests heart and soul into our display.

 

He found this guy in someone's trash last night so he brought him home, brushed him off and relighted him. I think he'll be quite comfy in our South Austin home.

Checking In

I have been feeling the need to update this blog a bit. Sometimes I feel sad for it, just knowing it's languishing out here on the internet.

And I also want to get it back to the food. In light of that, I'll just share that on Sunday, Erin helped me make lasagna. She stood at the stove and stirred in all the ingredients for the sauce, proclaiming, "You are putting everything in this lasagna, Mama!" I can't quite capture her pronunciation of lasagna, but suffice it to say, it was darn cute.

Tonight, we eat it and I'll try to get a pic of her handiwork. It's been getting yummier in the fridge since Sunday afternoon. We made it to share with visiting family.

Grateful Heart: Day Unclear

It's the 24th of December, but my gratitude postings have been spotty the past few days. Still, I already knew when I started this little posting project that I was going to be grateful for my lovely husband on Christmas Eve. To me, it's one of the most romantic and magical nights of the year. I used to want to be married around Christmas. Now, with the hustle and bustle finally starting to quiet, I am glad that I was a June bride after all. I can't imagine trying to squeeze in an anniversary this time of year.

 But romantic it is. From Dino crooning carols to the glow of lights, the holidays ooze a special kind of romance - one that is rooted in the home, the family, the magic that comes with togetherness. And I love being part of a togetherness with David.

It is hard for me, even being someone well accustomed to using my words to express my feelings, to put down exactly what I feel about this man in my life. Over the last almost 15 years, we have grown and changed together and have watched the world change around us. I always feel like we do this together. Side by side, holding hands. We are a true pair - the opposite of each other in many respects but with a shared vision, a shared joy and love.

I am grateful for David's childlike wonder. I love his idealist heart. I've never met someone who lives with such purpose. And I am so thrilled to be his partner and his friend.

And now I get to watch him be a father. I get to see him in my children. It's a gratitude that's hard to express; it is a cup overflowing.

Grateful Heart: Day 21

I skipped Day 20. And yes, I'm a day behind posting for Day 21, I know. But back to Day 20. I'm taking a pass. Want to know why? It's because I dropped my iPhone in the dog water. Early in the morning. So that set the tone for the day. It wasn't that I wasn't grateful on Day 20, it's just that I, gasp, didn't have my phone.

Which brings me to Day 21. I'm grateful for technology. That may sound dumb, or weird, and the person I thought I was 15 years ago would have been horrified to hear what I'm about to say. Let me tell you a story though. 

When I had my first baby, Erin, I had no laptop and no smart phone. I did not text. I emailed from work. I was employed as a developer and coder. I was not, though, a techie who took my enthusiasm home. I had ended up in the technology field. I had not set a path for it. And I was deeply ambivalent about the implications (and distractions) of technology. But back to that baby. I can see now how isolated I was then. I literally spent my days on maternity leave sitting in a la-z-boy rocker holding a baby who slept most of the time. When something didn't feel right, I had the options of trying to track down friends who had babies (most of them back working and, really, few and far between for me), talk to my husband who was usually equally puzzled, or call our pediatrician at the time (fairly old school, who blew off most of our first-time parent questions most unhelpfully).

 The house was so. so. quiet. I watched movies to fill the space. I nursed and rocked and chatted with baby and it was lovely. But I was very alone once David went back to work. It was me, two cats, a dog and a lump of a baby, a quite wonderful lump, but still a lump.

 Fast forward to my second baby. This time I was hooked into FB and an online community of local moms and a bevy of friends who were texters, emailers, smart phone users. This time around, I did not feel the loneliness. But I wasn't just distracted. I wasn't simply fighting off boredom. And I certainly wasn't not having those lovely quiet moments with baby. What I was doing was being supported, being connected and being buoyed. Friends I met via electronic means brought me food, answered my "is this normal" questions at 2am, played WWF with me deep in the night when I was up nursing. Shared jokes, shared tears, shared all the little daily revelations that come with baby.

I can't count the number of real-live friends I have a) met or b) fostered through FB and email. I would have been skeptical years and years ago when I thought long and hard about the dangers of online communication and (dis)connection. Today, I know it can work. I have had deeply intimate conversations via email. Once, after having discussions via email, I then ran into a newish friend (K, you know who you are) at a parenting workshop and all that we'd been chatting about was there between us so that we could pick up the conversation and I could cry a little and she could give me a hug and I would feel so much better. That is not just technology. But where had we done a large part of our chatting? On Facebook and via email.

The friendships are real, the support is real, but I must be grateful for the hand technology has played in making it happen. I must acknowledge my own reliance on social media in giving me, a person who can be shy, a forum to be funny and honest and to connect with ease with folks I am just getting to know as well as ones who know me inside and out.

I know that there are those who don't get it, who still raise eyebrows at the thought of it. But gosh darn it, I fully admit it. I am grateful, damn grateful, for Facebook and Twitter and blogs and email. Truly, truly grateful. And I also don't think Zuckerberg is that bad of a guy.

 

Grateful Heart: Day 19

So, I'm still behind. This one was published on FB too.

I'm so grateful for my dinner co-op. Many weeks, it is the only way we eat well. And eat well we do. It's vegan, fresh, and often organic and local too. It's fun to see others' skill and creativity in the kitchen and it is absolutely fantastic to have a good and healthy meal delivered to our door (or the girls' school) on a hectic weeknight. It's also helping me become a better cook. That can only be a good thing!

 It also fosters such a wonderful sense of community. I love the feeling of being connected in a very tangible way to others in my circle. My co-op is another group I could turn to if I needed help. One week not too long ago when I was down with a stomach flu and couldn't deliver the jambalaya I had planned to make, no one batted an eye and food showed up at my door as usual.  Even when a few of my meals have felt rather floppish, no one has complained. Thankfully, I don't think my flops are all that common and with two picky toddlers at the table, it's often quite refreshing to have someone appreciative on the other end of a well-done meal.

 But mostly? This is about helping each other and getting something back. It's a selfish sort of arrangement - the best kind of selfish, where we all share the burden and the benefit. So, thank you, vegan dinner co-op. And special thanks to Karen Adamo for getting the group started, even though she's currently very pregnant and not active. It's been over a year since you got this off the ground and you should be proud!

 

Grateful Heart: Catching Up

In my busy-ness, Facebook often serves as a better way to dash off a note of gratitude. Here's the catchup.

Day 13: The older employee in Central Market yesterday who chatted with my girls and me and said, "You're doing a great job. People probably don't tell you that enough." She had been subjected to all kinds of potty hijinks on her break and I had managed to maintain my cool, calm and collected mama vibe. It was kindness beyond kindness for her to let me know that. Thank you, thank you, fellow mama.

Day 14: Right at this moment, a moment of discomfort I might add, I am grateful for food. I have eaten too much today. I had so much food today that, as much as it pained me, I had to throw a bit of it away. Namely, a piece of cake I could not finish. Stuffed to the gills am I and paying the price for it. But geez, talk about first world problems. It's almost obscene, the commonness of too much food in my life. CSA baskets overflowing, vegan dinners coming in from dinner coop, taste testing at all the lovely, bustling stores around town. And oh, the holiday baking... I had better be grateful. Because if I weren't, well, frankly, I would be an ass.

Day 15: wow. Is it really 10 days to Christmas?  Today I'm grateful for the passage of time and the way I've (mostly) learned that all things shall pass. Change is a constant. That can be a good thing. Whenever I feel overwhelmed, I can look ahead knowing that a stretch of stressful days will be behind me at some point. And the older I get, the faster I seem to get to that looking back place. I remember getting so stuck when I was younger and less patient. I felt that every moment defined me. Today I know that defining myself by a single moment, a single day, is laughable. My life is a collective - of days and events and thoughts and dreams strung together by time. Knowing how quickly it passes keeps me humble and it keeps me sane. It's a bit like floating. Rather than trying to stay put, I simply have to let go and let the current carry me to a new place and a new perspective. It has happened so much in the last 10 years that I now (mostly) trust the process. Sure, I still get stuck, but I hope that I get unstuck more easily these days.

Day 16: I'm grateful for getting out tonight, socks containing Shea butter, Carrie Cristillo, creepy sexy bunny heads, wine, and the fact that I got out of the giant box. I'm thankful I got to have a fun evening without little girls in tow. It's good to have friends that bring your maturity level back to earth and remind you that your more than a caretaker to other people.

Day 17: Today I was reminded how grateful I am for our daughters' little school. Their holiday parties were great fun. It was so nice to sit and eat snacks that had been prepared especially for parents and grandparents. It was lovely to simply be in conversation with my eldest daughter. I was delighted to take part in the impromptu dance party in my youngest's class and to watch both girls in action in their daily environment. It is hard to be away from them all day but I absolutely know that they are loved and cared for and, most of all, respected at Mariposa Montessori School. They are treated as individuals, honored in their quest to find their own way and surrounded daily by gentleness, focused attention and genuine care.

As someone who spent some time teaching preschool, I particularly value a young child environment that is done well, with honor and principle.

Deep gratitude to all the wonderful teachers, staff and fellow families!

Day 18: I was just glad to be going to bed, and then a few hours later, I was also glad I didn't eat *all* the pimiento cheese.

Grateful Heart: Day 12

Don't worry, I didn't skip 9, 10, and 11. I simply needed to dash them off in my busy-ness, so they are over on FB. They were:

Day 9 - the funny people, sites, etc., that keep my spirits lifted on days that people steal our Christmas lights

Day 10 - Erin's love of language (blossoming daily)

Day 11 - weekends

So, on to Day 12: Baking.

 Just now, right now, there is a batch of my dad's honey pecan balls in the oven. The house is warm and filled with smells bringing comfort and ease. Soon, I will slip them out of the oven. They will be warm and crumbly and I'll roll them in powdered sugar, these little nuggets of sugar and joy. Around the holidays at my house growing up, I couldn't count the dozens of honey pecan balls my dad made. They are his signature Christmas cookie, a recipe he's honed to perfection. Even today when I called to ask him to give me the details because I'd lost them again for the umpteenth time, he added a bit of info, a slight variation on the powdered sugar step.

 Baking always connected me with my father. It still does. While we might find other things difficult to talk about, we can always talk about baking, nay, we love to talk about baking. And from my dad, I have inherited a bond with baking that serves to soothe worries away, a task that makes me feel happy and content right in the moment. Mixing sugar and shortening. Dusting flour. Folding in pecans or chocolate. These activities relax me, in body, spirit and mind. They make me feel connected to rhythms, to a history of bakers, to something I see as a deeply creative process. 

 I am still learning to cook. It does not come easy for me. It's far too much a dollop of this and a dash of that. For some reason, baking feels more controlled and beautiful to me. Baking requires precision and care, but also imagination. To me, it is classical ballet, Swan Lake on Saturday night, to cooking's modern dance and its sometimes discordant exuberance. 

 One of the things I missed most after having babies was baking. After I went back to work and was trying to balance childcare, husband care, house care and a career, baking seemed undoable. And I mourned for the loss of it. It brought me a meditative balance as surely as any yoga session or sit might. Some days I wanted to bury my head in a baking book, browse the King Arthur Flour catalog and dream of perfecting meringue or fondant. But it took  me a while to just get to where I could throw together chocolate chip cookies again.

 Now, though, I do what I can to involve the girls. What a thrill it was to see Erin rolling out the dough for empanadas today, her blue ruffled apron dotted with flour. In other moments, I try to stretch my wings a bit, get my baking legs back. And in time like these, the holidays, I draw great comfort from piecing together those happy moments from my youth, the ones dotted with special family recipes, the scent of cinnamon and sugar and molasses. I want my girls to have those recipes too - the ones that mean it's just not Christmas until you've had them.

 And how can I end this post without a recipe? Here they are, in all their glory.

 Dad's Honey Pecan Balls

 1 cup of butter or margarine

1/2 cup of sugar

1/4 cup of honey

1 tsp vanilla

1/2 tsp salt (omit if using salted butter)

2 cups of flour

2 cups pecans, chopped

powdered sugar for rolling

 Preheat oven to 300 degrees.

Cream together butter and sugar. Add honey, vanilla, salt and flour. Mix until blended. Fold in pecans.

 Bake for 20 minutes or so, careful not to overbrown the bottoms.

 Let stand for a few minutes and then roll in powdered sugar (this was my dad's latest trick, to make sure the sugar stuck well  and to avoid crumbing too-warm cookies).

 

 

Grateful Heart: Day 8

I am so grateful for my ability to sleep on command. I have always been a good sleeper, from my earliest days, or so my parent's tell me. I relish sleep, revel in it. I actually love to wake up in the wee hours of the morning just so I can enjoy going back to sleep. Does that make any sense to anyone but me?

I am a well-honed sleeper. I can roll into and out of sleep with grace and aplomb. I do it almost effortlessly. 15 minutes to sleep? Why yes, thank you. I'll take you up on that. 15 hours to sleep? Awesome too.

I love dreaming, both day and night and effectively use the space to work on anything that is troubling me. I riddle out and puzzle over all facets of my life in the darkness, snuggled deep under the covers, snoozing happily.

This ability to sleep so easily has been a great asset as a second-time mom. With my first, I got into a deficit somewhere and even though I was able to sleep easily, I was still mastering the ability to sleep lightly, with a baby nearby. Always a heavy sleeper, this took some accommodation. By the second, I knew what I had to do. I had to let myself sleep the way my body needed me to. This meant lying down for quick naps with the baby, using my ninja sleep skills to wake up, nurse, change diaper and roll back into slumber as fast as possible - my very own baby pit crew moments.

Now? While I always considered myself someone who needed 10 hours a sleep a night, I have learned to survive on 4-6 a night. Occasionally, it stretches to 7. But I have held onto the quality of sleep with this baby. That has made a tremendous difference.

And as I talk to other folks, watch those near to me struggle with sleep issues, I recognize just how grateful I should be for this apparently genetic ability to sleep well with ease, to be able to go back to sleep so fully, to sleep on command. Sleep is a near and dear friend to me. It is a magical, redemptive place and I cherish it.

Grateful Heart: Day 7

Day 6 is over on Facebook. Feel the love, people. I'm thankful for my Mamas.

Today? Thankful for this little one:

My beautiful, ethereal eldest daughter. The one who sang a few hours after her birth, cooing from day one. Curious, introspective, creative and crafty, this is one to watch. 

I love her big heart, her shy smile, her glorious red hair even in tangles. I love her imaginative culinary sessions and the way she thinks and thinks and thinks about how others are feeling.

She's afraid of llamas, to be sure, but we all have our kryptonite, right?

My darling, Erin Maya, for you I am grateful.