Over the past year, I have slowly been trying to make our front room more A) Pretty and B) Useful to our Family.  Most homes have them nowadays, the pretty front room that's small but stuffed with couches, always clean and without toys.  Around here it's often nicknamed "The Home Teachers Room".  It serves its function in that there's a nice place to visit but guests don't have to see your dirty dishes.

But Home Teachers just come once a month, or in my case, once every 18 months. Our front room is small- too small for a couch and loveseat.  Piano is our musical talent we invest in around here, so I decided I would make our front room the "Piano and Reading Room".  When and if the Home Teachers show up, we just take them into our main family room, mess and all.

I took some pictures after I moved the loveseat out, but before the transformation.   Wait, let me clarify: before the mini-makeover.  I am not a decorator, and organization takes way too much brain energy and money for me to be a natural at it.  If I had my way, this room would have wood floors, wood plank walls painted white, and no vertical blinds!  The ceiling fan would be replaced by a quirky white chandelier, and the piano would be refinished in white.  In essence, the dream lives on this Pinterest board.  I have to say however, that the new reality is far from magazine pretty, but a dream come true for me.

 I have almost tried to sell our glider rocker a few times, but I still yearn to have a thinner profile chair that I can occassionally rock and snuggle my littles.  

 Here it is with the glider and me trying to find the perfect rocker recliner without taking up half the room.

 I have seen several tutorials on painted pianos, and would love to paint this piano WHITE.  I just don't dare start such a project, plus what if it turned out crappy?  On a piano?!


 I purchased a teak rocking chair, only to discover I had to rocket fuel my legs off the carpet to get it to rock, and then it lasted for approximately one (1) back and forth.  So that sucker went back to the store.  So the glider remained waiting to find the perfect replacement.

One of my goals in 2012 was to lessen the garden waste due to end of summer burnout.  Are you familiar with this?  You have buckets and buckets of corn and you take the time to pick it, haul it, shuck it (*ahem, this taken a few days in years past) and by the time you're ready to process it for the freezer it's starchy and gross.

In July, I spent 2 weeks to find the perfect shade of aquamarine for the farm.  Red, White, & Aquamarine--kind of Americana with a twist.  I priced a high quality paint, swept in during a one a year rebate, then brought it home with big plans to freshen up some outbuildings once the kids started back in school.

But the thing is, once the kids started back in school the garden was unloading harvest after harvest upon us.  It was a frenzy.  So the bucket still sits in the garage, and August, September, and October I was in the kitchen canning garden produce!

Here are a few long overdue (I don't think I updated much about our own garden last year) pictures from Our 2012 Garden.
Prepare to do the scroll dance.

Here the 3 sisters near harvest time.  This bed we planted sugar-pie pumpkin which are the perfect size for steaming, pureeing, then freezing for pumpkin muffins throughout the year.

I feel quite passionate about providing fun creative avenues for the kids to play in the garden setting.  I was enamored with the idea of a labyrinth (labyrinths are different than a maze! I won't elaborate to spare the boring details) so I found a pattern I liked and roughly shaped it out with flour.  Then we added new compost to the pattern and planted in that. 


 Here's the Labyrinth shortly after planting.  Eventually I laid down layers of cardboard in the paths to suppress weeds and it did a great job!  I planted a hybrid corn called Optimum Sweet because it is a very tall corn (and more importantly, a very sweet corn).



This shows the teepee a little better, along with my best garden helper last year, Gideon.  He loved to be outside with me while I worked in the garden.


Blurry!


Here was another addition last summer.  We took cattle panels and bent them.  They act as a support to peas, beans, while shading the cooler crops like spinach, salad, and broccoli.  Here it is pretty early on when our peas were starting to take off.
 Prior to a weedfest, my little orphan child in the hoophouse.
  A little later we got some mulch down to help with the weeds.  This is my favorite picture of Leif in the garden.
 I strung lights around the opening, it was so magical at night!  But darnit it didn't last with garden sprinklers hitting it 3 times a week!  Baby + Baby Rake = Happiness.


At the mouth of the hoophouse is the sandbox.  I wanted to clean it up a bit and bought lots of wooden alphabet letters, sea shells, and glass coins.  Here's my two blondies having fun!
This is my favorite picture of the hoophouse.  I took some old sheets to keep the shade coming.  Boy did we have a HOT summer.  

Also, did you know it takes about 8 hours to shell enough peas for a big pot of creamy potatoes and peas?  I had so many, and they were so intensive to shell, that we did have much go to waste in the pea department :(


After trying to grow a plethora of items in this top tier, I finally broke down in July and just planted the drought tolerant Portulaca flowers.  They filled it up nicely and could handle the HEAT.


Tomato guy!


We planted a cover crop of Clover after harvesting fava beans.  They will enrich the soil, suppress weeds, and provide happiness for our bees in the spring. 


The Mister of the House was cute.  I would stack a box of completed jars and ask him to take them downstairs, but instead he kept stacking them in the piano room.  He wanted to keep seeing our progress and take a picture when we were done.  

Although I know there are many awesome woman who canned more produce than I did, I was happy with the progress we made.  We still have lots of food preserved and it is serving our family well.



 Sadness = roasting peppers and garlic for a tomato sauce, only to ruin the entire HUGE patch with too much parsley for the garden.  Lame!

 The pears came to Idaho with me and my mom helped me put them up.  Thanks mom!


Green tomato relish, peach jam (sweetened with honey), and peaches!


I love this jar of salsa with a mashed avocado and fresh cilantro.  Also good on it's own!

Here's our parting shot.  We took some trimmed branches and made an arch leading from the garden/yard to the "farm" area.  I love it!  Looking from the farm into the garden. Stay out chickens!

The blah factor of winter always gets an uplift in February.  Just as I was contemplating a fun toy or goodie to make for the kids school Valentine's, the kids started coming up and asking: "Mom have you done my Valentine yet?"

Back in the 80's when I was a mutt, my parents loaded everyone up and took us to Oregon and Northern California.  It was such a stark contrast to my Idaho and it's own form of beauty.  Luscious, deep, and bursting with life, I fell in love first with the city parks in Oregon.  I remember everyone having lunch in a park in Medford, Oregon, marveling at a bicyle world that I could only dream of as a gutter rider on Apache Avenue.  Hilly parks with paved trails, including bridges for bicycles!  All of this on top of tennis courts, basketball courts, and lots of playground equipment.

It was a trip never to forget, especially because just as we were descending into Redwood Country I got sick and huddled over a barf mug for an entire day.   I up-chucked twelve times.  Twelve times! With each disgusting release of my stomach, I added a tally mark in my head and felt my martyr status grow.

Yet...and yet! I was lost in a marvelous world of trees unfathomable in size.  By day two, I was cured, and happily scurried into the intended frame as viewed by my mother and her silver Minolta camera, capturing everything on Kodak.

And so it was with great anticipation, that I scoured the internet to find a Redwood Grove the little Olsen's could visit on a recent trip to the Sierra Nevada Region of California.  Even in the heart of winter, it did not disappoint.  So we have the Olsen's meet Calaveras Big Trees State Park.


We stayed at Angels Camp, the site of an old gold-miners camp during the Gold Rush.  I checked the weather report for Angels Camp, noted a high of 61 for the day, then promptly tucked away our winter boots.  My little clothes-horse Isaac, the only one with multiple jacket options, was downgraded to his red jacket.  

We drove the short 20 miles to Big Trees Park (near Arnold, California) and found ourselves with snow-packed trails, garnering me the mother of the year award as my little man slowly froze throughout the day.



Fortunately, hats and mittens were in our car still.  Here's Isaac after he inherited mom's mittens and hat.

While much of the summer lushness is gone in winter, I found visiting Calaveras Big Trees State Park in January to be almost perfect.  We practically had the entire trail to ourselves (North Grove Trail) and the combination of green foliage and red trees against a plain white canvas was visually delightful.



White, Green, Brownish-Red.  Downright perfect if you ask me.

This grove is interspersed with pines and cedar, as you can see in the foreground.

The North Grove Trail was a flat 1.5 mile loop that had 26 stops narrated by the park booklet available for 50 cents.  It truly was teaching a lesson about the history of the grove, and inspiring visitors to be better protectors of wild places. 

There was an irony, as I found myself most excited for photo ops at the places where these trees were exploited most.   Here's a few examples:




 Near the end of the loop you come to this carved tunnel.  Such a fun photo op right?  This was carved in the 1880's after Yosemite (somewhat close) had carved a similar tunnel and was stealing tourism traffic away from Calaveras.  You can find these sorts of things all over different groves in Northern California.  It is now illegal to do this to these protected trees.



The exploited trees in the grove did meet my needs of curiosity and my pretenses of being a scientist.  Well just how big is it around? (Well step on it, we chopped it down!)  Well, just how tall are they? (We harvested it's bark, come take a look!)  Could you live in it, drive through it, or walk through it? (You bet, we hacked a clearing right through the center!).

With our stopping and learning at each new avenue, it became clear how much kids are sponges.  You have to be careful! They lack maturity to find balance.  Soon I could hear statements like: "Why would they do that to the Mother Tree? Why are people so mean? People are so bad!" until there was a reassurance that the Mother Tree was perhaps content in teaching a lesson, and how there was much excitement and goodness all around.  

Here's some more pictures of our visit.  We stayed about 2 hours, and the kids reactions were exactly what I was hoping for.  Amazement! Magic! Wonder!


Prepare to crank your neck up a lot.  Here's The Mister with sunburst and wonder.


 There's four of us at differing depths of this fallen tree.  Can you find us all?
 Here I am inside the same tree, now I'm looking out to the clan.






 Here is Isaac standing by the plackard showing a picture from this spot 100+ years ago.  Notice the background as dad films brother and sister making their way through the long tunnel.

Below, is a fuller angle of this fallen "Father-of-the-Forest".


These big trees were often named after famous people in the 1800's.  This tree was named "Abraham Lincoln" just after his martyrdom in 1865.  In honor of Abe's #1 fan (Herm-Daddy) and one of the BEST movies of 2012, we though we'd all take a chance to take a picture with ole Abe.




 Starting to get cold.  Hey buddy, we'll go eat some lunch soon!
 Look how he can turn off those waterworks just like that!
 What a handsome boy in his new Christmas coat, mittens, and hat!


Is it legal to put this many pictures on a post!

That's a wrap.  My #1 regret and bit of advice, visit this place with a ball of yarn.  Loop it around one of these trees and cut it.  Place in a jar with some pine needles for a fun memory display.

Adios!

 This morning was a slow start, and I didn't even party last night.  I welcomed with some relief, the vigilant cold (flu?) that forced me to stop the frenzied partying, eating, consuming, gifting, and worrying that comes during the Holiday Season.  The past two days have found me in bed sucking lozenges, sleeping, and watching Netflix on my phone.  Laaaaazy bones.

So this morning I heard the usual sounds of the little farm waking up-starting with the turkeys.  We still have 3 turkeys left from heritage breeds Narragansett and Royal Palm.  Two puffy males constantly strut in front of the lone female, their male ego a beautiful blue show.  The turkeys were loud, gobbling, gobbling, gobbling.  They kept getting louder and louder until it approached the level of ruckus.

I opened the blinds to see a huge flock of wild turkeys descending on the farm!  It was invigorating!

So the Mister and I hurried outside to investigate and dissuade our guests from discovering the free food.  There must have been close to fifty, gliding in and surrounding our turkeys.  Our two males were puffed and huffed.

Through the gate and already the wild flock is starting to part.



Some flew away.



 And that-a-way.



Others meandered to our neighbors field.

I felt a flood of options and questions come over me:
What if we just made them our own flock?
Let's have a big dinner?
How are they thriving and surviving so well in the winter?
Do you think they'll come back?
Where are they going?




When we turned back to our turkeys, they were still fluffed up from the encounter.  Not being a turkey whisperer, I couldn't tell if their gobbling call (answered one second later by the simultaneous gobbling of the entire flock of wildlings) was a warning, a threat, or just a Hey! Where'd you guys come from?


Here they are in the neighboring field, close to fifty of them!  The sky above, the clouds, the vigorous show of family and flock, the asking for blessing from our farm (sorry, denied!) seemed just the sign I needed to start my 2013.

So I started my morning with a O.J., banana, spinachspinachspinach green power smoothie.  A sign of things to come?

Then our post-Holiday overly-blessed house spent the morning taking care of some important business.  Like how is it my kids have never seen Goonies?  I almost feel like my duty as a mother should be in question.  This is one of the great films from my childhood.





Use caution when blowing young minds.  They are little sponges.  I dread the day my kids get a facebook, pinterest, and whatever else account. 


Oh Samwise, how cute you were.  I once wanted to kiss you braces and all.  Big brother is taking it all in, and I'm making a list of all the great 80's flicks that need to be shown weekly for Outdoor Movie Nights on the farm.  A sign of things to come?


And occasional distraction with little brother, just to prove we're not total TV Zombies.

Happy New Year!
Love From,
Mrs. Olsen

There's something about the industry of this garden that is wonderful.  Grandpa amends the soil every year with his own compost.  Grass clippings from the yard mulch paths to retain water and suppress weeds.  




PVC pipes section off areas of the garden and different connectors bring water to drip-lines holding culinary water.  No water waste, a direct drink right to the plant. This also helped him to completely stop watering his onions in July so they were sweetened and hardened off in time (mine are still green).  While the onions were sweetening in their drought, corn and squash kept getting the water they needed.



How old would you say this tool is?  See the smooth stained grain? The clear strong tines?  How old? How old?  

Here's another look:

What if I told you this tool was over 60 years old?  Would you believe me?



Because it is that old!  He's had it for years and years (same with his wheelbarrow, and a bunch of other stuff!).  I've had a rake for 10 years and the handle has already rotted out.  Why?  Because I get an urge, I rake, whack the weeds, then I remember I have sour laundry (or hear chocolate) and run into the house.  Later I can't find my rake and it's rotting in the garden getting watered every day.

This could be in part a lesson about how things were made better in the olden days, but if that's all you want to focus on then you're missing out.  I figured that if you're an impatient jerk then go to McDonald's instead of helping Grandpa in the garden.  Because he will rake, or till, or dump, then he will take that carefully coiled hose and wash every speck of dirt off.  Chocolate doesn't speak to him until he's finished what he set out to do!  He leaves it to dry on the hook, and a few hours later puts it away in his garden shed.

Also don't forget a new coat of varnish on the wood handles every year.

So he hangs onto things, and not in an unhealthy hoarder kind of way.  He's my careful, thoughtful gardener.  He's the same way with human relationships.



The same care is taken with his fruit trees.  He didn't necessarily love having pictures taken of all his hooks and jimmy-rigging to train the branches, but it serves my point right?  


God bless the kid that mows this lawn every week.




  Cantaloupe trained on a fence.

Some crazy melon he's growing (can't remember the name)




I like this picture because he was holding out his favorite tomato to show me.  The front is out of focus because his hands start doing their little dance.

A shaky hand never tended so steadily.  Heck, a steady hand never tended with such precision.

I don't want to leave the impression that Grandpa does all this work himself.  After their bounty is brought into the house, Grandma still prepares and preserves their fruits.  Here's the storage room with a line of peaches right from their yard.



He grows 'em.  She washes, skins, pits, slices, packs, and cans them.  Who has the tougher job here?
 Grape juice too!


She also cans pears from their tree.

Wait, what's that Grandpa?  Is that a mouse?


"Oh she put that down here to trick me. Scared me half to death."

Aren't they cute?

I'm so excited to give my second garden tour on ye olde blog.  Today we will be visiting the garden of a woman who has been drawing house plans on scratch paper since she was about 9.  When I see an empty room waiting for a move, and plan for a dining room, sectional, and buffet table, she will wisely tell me I just have room for ONE of those.  And why is this woman helping me look at empty houses to move into?  It's because she is my mother-in-law (and no I'm not moving).

Ironically, she has never built her own house, but she has put her finishing touches to make it her own.  Several years ago, she did a major overhaul on her yard.  I was so excited with the turnout.  Let's take a look:




I call it "The Weekend Garden" because there's been many times when that is the only time Norma is around.  But it is designed to get soaked with the automatic sprinklers and waits for her to return.



Off the back porch are some ready access herbs close to the kitchen.  Baby turns the corner and enters the oasis zone, where many a lovely summer dinners take place.



Gorgeous right?



These pavers are perfect for Rocky Mountain Zone 5.  They have a flexibility so they don't get cracks like a concrete pad is at risk to do in the bitterness of winter.  Trex decking makes the raised eating area low maintenance and timeless.



My two chocolates.
Here's Chloe "acting natural".  Is it working?  See the white garden lights hanging along the fence?  I wished I had been able to stay until dusk, so I could capture my favorite glow-time.  White lights in the garden seem so essential to me now.  Let's take a closer look.




 There's a grassy patch for little mutts to wander...


...and roll.



On the grassy patch is the classic Mormon Staple: The Trampoline.  Here the older boys wrestle, roll, squeeze, steamroll, and trip.  It seriously never ends.

Everyone's happy at this place!

Earlier this month we sent our pigs to the county fair.  After 3 years of raising pigs over the summer, we finally figured out:

A) How to get the pigs from the very back of our one-acre lot- through the farm gate, past the garden (which they could destroy in point-five seconds)...and between the yard gate into a waiting trailer.

Lucky day Grandpa Anderson visited the pigs (and the Olsen's) at the farm.  It's fun to ask advice from my dad.  He grew up on a farm and fled fled fled for a better and cleaner life.  I'm sure he wonders where I came from when I run to the dirty germ-infested farm life (wait, that's my mom).

While looking at tractors with Chloe, he laughed when she saw a small tractor and exclaimed "Oh that tractor is A-dorable!".



Here's Olsen's-Don't-Know-What-They're-Doing Part II.  We sold 7 goats a month before fair, just wanting to get them off the property and be done. 

Lo and behold we see one of our goats showcased at the fair, with a purple grand prize ribbon.  We wanted to yank it and put it on OUR chest, after all we bottle fed these goats for two stinkin' months.  Give me that ribbon!



Here's Chloe in the last-place stall with Petunia the Pig.  We're just starting to realize that there's a good chance that the fair will be during Leif's birthday every year.  So this little trooper hung out at the fair while everyone puffed about sister and her pig.  She got $11 for showcasing her pig, and little brother couldn't believe it!  I know he was calculating what Legos he could buy if he had that money.


Here's a little reminder at the fair.  Leif's holding up 7 fingers so we know that this fair year, he turned SEVEN.

Leif is great.  Here's what makes him an awesome part of our family:

He loves his baby brother twin.  Every morning he gets him out of the crib and brings him to me.

He is quiet and observant, but surprisingly confident.  I was afraid he would be sensitive about things (friend troubles, or ?) but he is always quick to laugh.

He and little brother Isaac play together all summer.  Isaac's friends are all Leif's buddies, and Leif lets him tag along without a complaint.  They really are best little buds.

He is an awesome reader, the best in his class.

We had a party for him before the fair, so we made sure he felt special on his day.  Buenos Dias folks!