avablog

Here’s a shot of the lasagna Kevin and I made last Saturday night:

We got the recipe from a Cook’s Illustrated issue; it’s one of their “faster” recipes, so it basically required a quick bolognese-type meat sauce and no-boil lasagna noodles. It was a cinch to make, and it tasted great (even though we couldn’t put in the six cloves of garlic called for in the recipe–*sob*).

Cooking with Kevin is a lot of fun. We don’t do it often, but I’m thinking we should make a point of it when we get together.

We had a great weekend in Madison visiting Aunt Rachel and Uncle Kevin. As usual, our time there was full of good food and drink, walks, coffee, and at least one knock-down, drag-out fight between the Klevar sisters.

After we got settled in on Friday evening, we dined at a nearby Thai restaurant that Rachel and Kevin frequent. It was good. Ava’s a real nut for Thai food. She loves the noodles and the baby corn.

Saturday morning we awoke, had a light breakfast, and set off with the intention of walking to one of Madison’s farmer’s markets. Time started to slip away, however, so we cut our walk short and made beeline for the nearest Starbucks. Ava enjoyed her usual steamed milk, and Uncle Kevin helped her eat a scone.

After coffee, we walked back to the house and put together a picnic lunch. We then drove out into the country to Brigham Park, which has a beautiful view of the Wisconsin River valley. Here’s a poorly-constructed panoramic shot of the view:

(This pops to a much larger size.)

Kevin made a delicious chicken salad, and we also had some apples and chips and salsa (and a couple New Glarus beers, of course). Ava had a ball kicking through the thick carpet of dry leaves all around our table.

When we got home, Aunt Rachel managed to get Ava down for a nap, but only after promising her that Uncle Kevin and I would take her to the fish store after she got up. In the meantime, Rachel and Leah went off to get their hair done. While Ava slept, Kevin and I started cooking lasagna and baking bread for the evening meal. We were able to get our sauce pretty much made before Ava woke up, so we let it sit and cool while we went to the fish store. That trip was a great idea. Ava loves to watch fish (Kevin has a number of them in a tank at his house), and she ran from tank to tank at the store, pointing up at the various fish and exclaiming, “Look at that one!”

After dinner and getting Ava down for bed, the big kids watched a couple episodes of Arrested Development.

Sunday was another beautiful day. After everyone was up and ready, we loaded into the car and made for the Riley Tavern in Verona, WI, which has a good pancake feed. Ava had chocolate chip pancakes and a couple sausage links, then she wanted to get down and go play with the large German Shepherd that was running around outside; his name was King.

I packed up the car as soon as we got back to Rachel and Kevin’s. Ava played in the big pile of leaves that Kevin and raked up for her. Leah and Ava slept in the car most of the way home on Sunday, and we were pleased to see that the weather was just as nice here as it had been in Madison. Doesn’t sound like it’s going to stay that way, though. They’re actually talking snow for Madison later this week, and the high here is only supposed to be 41! I don’t know that I’m ready for winter quite yet.

I came across this little tidbit today while looking at my httpd log:

“drink 1 bottle wine/night while breastfeeding”

Someone searched for this string and wound up at my site.  I can promise you, dear reader(s), that Leah never drank a bottle of wine while she was breastfeeding.  I, on the other hand….

I’m only hoping that there’s not a woman out there who’s researching this topic, either proactively or reactively.  Looks like the search brings you to posts from this past July.

…on such a beautiful day.

One of the first things I read this morning was an article in The Wall Street Journal about preparing children to grow up in a country that’s so reviled in some parts of the world. From the story:

On the long list of troubling things that parents need to discuss with kids today — from school shootings to the risks of terrorism — it’s vital to include a look at America’s place in the world. How can parents explain recent hate-filled speeches by the leaders of Iran and Venezuela? How can we help kids process the disparaging things being said about our leaders, morals and lifestyles? How do we balance our love of country with our desire to make our children good citizens of the world?

I can still recall being 15 or 16 and having vivid nightmares in which I was standing outside my house in the middle of the night. Tremendous dark missiles roared over my head on their way to some distant target on the West Coast, their thick, billowing exhaust plumes lying behind them like ragged gray scars across the sky. I was filled with panic and sadness, and while the dreams never included an actual exploding bomb, I remember the terrible feeling of helplessness as I set about trying to find all my family and friends so I could say goodbye to them. I woke up sobbing on more than one occasion.

There was plenty of nuclear paranoia to go around at the time. The idea that small, unstable countries would get the bomb was still a ways out from the public consciousness; the Soviet Union was threat enough. And then there were movies like Testament and The Day After that ratcheted up the bomb fear to ever-more-gut-wrenching levels. I can still feel my chest tighten at the thought of Scottie Wetherly’s mom running all through her house, searching desperately for his teddy bear, refusing to let her son be buried before she can find it.

So I see Ava with her teddy bear now and wonder sometimes what kinds of dreams she might one day have. She’s so empathetic already, so aware of the world and the feelings of people around her. She doesn’t know about hate or war or death. If only there were a way to keep her from it all.

Last evening, Leah, Ava, and I walked downtown to have pizza. It was a gorgeous stroll.

The restaurant was pretty crowded when we arrived, but we were able to get a table after only a short wait. Ava loved standing out on the sidewalk and watching all the foot traffic go by.

After dinner, we stopped at an ice cream store to get Ava a tiny strawberry cone, which she worked on during the walk home. It was unseasonably warm yesterday, and by the time we got back to the house, it was still almost 70 degrees outside. We were all a bit beat. Ava had a quick bath, read a couple books, and hit the hay, where she fell asleep almost immediately.

It’s much more fall-like today, with brooding gray clouds blowing across the sky and dry leaves flying everywhere. The temperature has dropped at least 10 degrees since I left the house this morning. We’re heading to Madison on Friday, and the forecast for the weekend there actually looks really nice.

When I read things like this, I feel like I should apologize to my young daughter for ever bringing her into the world.

Ava, you’ll learn that this world is absolutely overflowing with beauty and generosity and caring and good.  But it would be untrue to say that there are no bad people.

I don’t want you to ever have to live with the fear that something bad will happen to you or to the people you love.  Always remember that you are a force for love and light in the world, no matter what happens, and that your family loves you very, very much.

Dear Ava,

I want to write you a quick note to tell you that, unfortunately, you’ve been born to a father who is almost certainly going to embarrass you dozens and dozens of times before you leave home.  Bad jokes.  Bad clothes.  Bad singing.  You name it. [Read more →]

This is a confounding time of year, weather-wise. I’m starting to get this nervous feeling that I need to take advantage of every minute of mild, sunny weather, before the cold rain and then snow of winter sets in.

Take yesterday, for example. A couple friends and I biked over to the Amana Colonies to sit in the beer tent at the Millstream Brewery and take in the Oktoberfest…festivities. The place was packed, and there was a line out the door for beer the entire time we were there. But it was an amazingly beautiful day, the beer was delicious, and the yodeling was out of this world.

I was the only one in our group foolish enough to bike back from the brewery, making it a 60-mile day. There was a pretty good wind in my face the whole way home, but the vistas were so pretty and comforting, I was able to keep my mind of the pain in my legs (more or less).

Maybe next year Leah will let Ava come along with me.

Tonight was the night.  Ava spontaneously used her little potty a number of weeks ago, and Leah and I immediately began to suffer under the delusion that this whole potty training thing was going to be a cinch.  Of course, Ava promptly lost all interest in using her potty the minute her tiny butt came off the seat that first time.

Until tonight.  We’ve been trying to get Ava into the habit of trying to go to the bathroom before she gets into the bath every evening, but usually she just sits there, makes pushing noises, and does nothing.  This evening, my dad was over for dinner, and there was a lot of activity going on.  Before I even knew what was happening, I looked into the bathroom and saw Ava, sitting on her potty, legs spread wide open, back hunched over, looking down into her lap at the little stream of pee going into the plastic tub.

We made a huge deal of the event.  There was applause and hugs and a fancy new sticker for her potty sheet.  Ava seemed genuinely pleased at her accomplishment, but she could never have guessed at how pleased we were with her effort.  I hope she keeps up the good work.

Miles Davis died on this day in 1991.  It’s not a fact I have in memory; I heard it on the local Jazz station today at noon as I was driving downtown for lunch.

By 1991, I was aware of Miles only as an image on a stage blowing long (by that time, high, often shrill) notes that went on for days.  Only in the last couple years have I become aware of Miles’ earlier work, an awareness that necessarily begets an understanding of how profoundly his musicianship influenced the one true American art form.

Miles was the third male in his family to get the name.  When I was reminded today of the anniversary of his death, I wondered if his grandfather ever had any inkling of what he would become (Miles was the son of a well-off dentist father and Jazz pianist mother who hid her talent from him in the hope he’d stick with his violin lessons).

Someday I’ll be a seldom-read footnote in Ava’s biography.  Maybe sooner than I could guess.  If you have it at home, throw on “So What” and crank it up loud.  If you don’t have it, go get it.

As I write this, it’s 6:08 a.m. and pretty much pitch black outside.  The darkness, combined with the cool temperatures at night, is making it fairly impossible lately to get out of bed in the morning with any sort of conviction.   Compounding the problem is that Ava’s been sleeping soundly through the night for the last couple weeks, and waking her early is way down the list of things I want to do.

There are lots of nice things about fall in Iowa.  Even after two years, we have plenty of fond memories of our time with Ava in the fall, collecting pumpkins or walking the trails with her at Squire Point.  Our waking hours always seem more precious as autumn comes on, and the weather’s so gorgeous, we find any excuse we can to be outdoors.  Ava collects acorns and pretty red and yellow leaves.  This past weekend in Decorah we saw a fuzzy caterpillar crawling purposefully across the walking trail we were on.

We’re off to Madison in another week to see Aunt Rachel and Uncle Kevin.  I’m looking forward to the drive and the chance to get out into the Wisconsin countryside, maybe even to the pumpkin patch (if the pumpkins are anything like the apples this year, there’s going to be a bumper crop).

I can actually see some light in the sky now, and Ava will be up soon (maybe Leah will even be up, too).  I can’t wait to see what the day looks like.

Else we might have had to resort to something like this.

*shudder*

Pretty much the day after her second birthday, Ava started in with the “why?” to everything we said.

“It’s time to go inside, Ava.”

“Why?”

“Because we have to eat supper.”

“Why?”

“Because food gives us energy.”

“Why?”

“Because it has vitamins in it.”

“Why?”

And on and on.  It’s great to see her be so inquisitive, and it’s a real workout to keep coming up with even semi-plausible answers to her questions.

Leah and I have been somewhat dismayed recently to run into so many parents who have little girls named Ava.  Leah even met someone the other day who had an Ava Grace.  It’s like these people were thinking the exact same thing we were three years ago, which went something like, “Ava’s a nice name.  Sounds classic, pretty.  And you don’t see it around much.”  Oh well.

But the real kicker came this week, the day before my birthday, when an e-mail arrived from my uncle (dad’s brother).  We haven’t been very good at all about keeping in touch with that side of the family, and now we come to realize the cost of that neglect.  Turns out my cousin recently had a daughter he named Ava.  So now not only is there another Ava in the world, there’s another Ava with the same (fairly rare in the U.S.) last name.  I wonder if they’ll ever meet.

A man’s greatness is not estimated by the size of his body or of his purse; not by his family connections or social position, however high these may be. He may bulk large in public estimation today, but tomorrow he will be forgotten like a dream, and his very servants may secure a higher position and a name lasting possibly a little longer.

A man’s greatness is estimated by his influence, not over the votes and empty cheers of a changing and passing crowd, but by his abiding, inspiring influence in their bidden thoughts, upon their ways of thinking, and consequently of acting.

–L. E. Blaze, Lecture at the D. B. U. Hall, November 26, 1926

My brother always creates handmade cards for birthdays, Christmas, etc. I love them. He’s really followed in my dad’s footsteps, artistic-wise, which is great. This is the card he made for Ava’s birthday this year. The design and colors are great; it’s downright Egyptian.

I had this impression of Iowans as a hardier lot.  The temperature got down below 50 this morning, and everyone here at the office is walking around talking about how “freezing” it is.  Sheesh.  I have no idea what these people are going to do in the middle of February.

In other office-related news today, I moved to a different cube this morning.  It’s only two cubes away from my old cube, but it may as well have been on the other end of the building.  It certainly is a pain to lug all this junk from one place to another.  On the other hand, it’s a great chance to rid myself of a lot of accumulated crap.  Also nice is that no one will be able to find me for a while.  Silence is golden.

We’re just back.  The big stats:

32″ tall (long)

22 lbs.

Ten and 5% of “the norm,” respectively.  Although she’s tiny, our doctor did comment that Ava’s probably the only two-year-old she’s ever heard say “stethoscope.”  So, we’ve got that going for us.  Which is nice.

Words hardly do justice to the splendid meal we had at Simone’s Plain and Simple last Friday night. It was everything I hoped it would be. And a little bit more. Here’s the menu:

An assortment of Hors d’oeuvres
‘Gougère bourguignonne’ – a wreath of puff pastry with mild Swiss cheese
‘Estouffade de Bison’ – Bison, marinated in red wine, slow baked, “smothered”. Served with a puree of mashed potatoes and celeriac and some apples
A Green salad
An assortment of cheeses
Vanilla hot fudge sundae
A Pear Tart

Simone even put a couple candles on the tart for my birthday, which was a very nice surprise. We also had a great selection of wines, including a white burgundy for the hors d’oeuvres and the gougère, a couple different red blends for the bison, and a perfect muscato to accompany the tart; the muscato/tart team was easily the best wine pairing I’ve ever tasted.

I can’t wait to go again. All I need is an excuse.

Well, maybe that’s too strong a word.  “Frustrating” isn’t quite right, either.  “Disheartening?”  Maybe.

I love taking pictures of Ava, if you hadn’t noticed.  But I’m not a great photographer and I don’t have very flexible equipment.  So I keep telling myself that comparisons of my shots to shots by people like this isn’t really fair.  Yes,they’re professional photographers with years of experience shooting kids.  Yes, they use equipment that costs way, way more than my little Canon P&S.  And, yes, they clearly spend a lot of time post processing their shots, and I’ve never touched any of Ava’s pictures out of the camera.

It seems like these fancier shots do such a better job of showing off how beautiful and subtle their subjects are.  If only everyone else in the world could see Ava the way I see her.