Love from your Michigander

Here are some pics of Rowie for you to goober over...

Rowie sporting new Babylegs- he's hotstuff!

Rowie eating yet another one of his friends...

... and donuts.

Not even four months old and already able to scoot his way into impending doom-
smothered by a giant boppy pillow!

I'm taking him to get his second round of shots next Thursday. Wish me luck and hope that he doesn't end up autistic!
I miss all you Southern Illinoisans.

Baby Electronica

Check this out! Rowan can't get enough of this chickie! It is one of the only things that will still distract him from his painful gums (yes, he is teething- and has been awake since five this morning...yawn).

Huzzah!

Rowie is a wench-magnet!

Yesterday Rowan and I went to the Michigan Renaissance Festival. Turns out it is only an hour away (less if you speed) and the largest faire I have ever seen. The weekend's theme was Irish/Celtic- absolutely perfect since Ro and I both have red hair now.

Since I am a total dork I insisted that we both attend the faire in costume. I dyed one of my dresses a pretty teal colour- to feel like I had something new to wear- and I made Rowan a tiny pirate top and green tunic. All modesty aside, we had some of the best costumes there. Knowing that I can make this kind of garb made me feel artsy, and it prevented me from spending money on new stuff at the faire shops (although a large feathered hat was tempting).

We met many interesting people and had our photo taken by just about everyone. A woman even asked if I had dyed my baby's hair to make him look more Irish! They are filming a movie at the faire and we were asked to be extras during the production, but it was too hard to commit to being that far away from home for the next three weekends. Too bad, because Rowie did look cute. All the wenches loved him and a group of pirates had a mock fight to decide which one of them was his father. It was a great day for both of us!

Huge faire; huge crowds!

Medieval device used to toss children into the sky. Very barbaric.

The Washing Well Wenches. "Good, clean fun. Wet, dirty wenches!"

Riding into the joust.

We had tea with the Queen and her party. She likes puns.

Steve in 30 years.

The pirates who argued over Rowan's paternity. Arr!

A male belly dancer. He was amazingly graceful.

Rowie lounging in some hay at the end of the faire.

Yummy!

Hello down there!

I just made the best granola bars, and have to share the recipe with you!

2 1/2 cups rolled oats (not the quick kind)
2 cups crisp rice (not rice crispies- you want the generic kind without added sugar)
1 cup whole wheat pastry flour
2/3 cup softened butter or margarine
2/3 cup honey
1/3 cup brown sugar
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp vanilla extract

2 cups of goodies- dried cranberries, blueberries, almonds, walnuts, white chocolate, m&ms, etc (I used chopped almonds and carob chips)

1. Preheat oven to 325 and lightly grease 13x9 baking pan
2. Mix first group of ingredients (it's fun to use your hands) then fold in the goodies.
3. Firmly press mixture into pan. Bake for 18 minutes. Take pan out if oven and press mixture down again. Bake an additional 2-4 minutes.
4. Let bars cool for 10 minutes before cutting them- for chewy bars keep pressing them down as they cool.
5. Cut bars and let them sit to cool completely before removing them from the pan.

These are seriously the best granola bars I have ever had- they really beat the store bought kind and are a lot healthier. You can modify the recipe as you like (replace some butter with applesauce or banana) to make it low-fat or add lots of chocolate for a sweeter treat.

Enjoy!


P.S.- And because I know you only read this to see pictures of Rowan:

A Day in the Park

Sleeping in the sun

Since we've moved I have slowly accrued Ypsi-equivalents of all my favourite Carbondale places. Today Rowan and I discovered a park- Riverside Park (yep, we have one up here too!) and spent the day longing in the sun. This was the first day in several that didn't resemble typhoon season. We've had crazy weather because of Ike. Several homes were detroyed by tornados near Detroit and there was flooding all over Ann Arbor. On the plus side, my front lawn is no longer brown and crunchy!

Here are some pics of our new favourite park:

Look what I made!

I feel pretty!

I've been busy making Rowan new clothes. I take upcycled onesies, hand dye them, and add my own embellishments. I like the look of the fancy boutique baby clothes up here, but refuse to pay $30 for something Rowie will only wear for a month (and probably poop on the first time he has it on!) so I'm making my own stuff. If you like these, I do custom orders!

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood...

Would you be mine, could you be mine, won't you be my neighbor?

It has become a part of our morning routine to watch a little T.V. while I feed Rowie breakfast. We don't have many channels so I usually don't have much more than the Tyra show or Home Shopping Network to entertain myself during my cup of coffee. Today however, a vintage episode of Mr. Roger's Neighborhood was on PBS.

As I listened to his soothing voice and kind, slow way of talking I realized that they really don't make children's programs the way they used to. Growing up we would always watch Sesame Street, Fraggle Rock, Mr. Rogers, and other, quality kid shows. We learned important lessons like recycling, sharing, the way animals talk to one another, how to be a good friend. Today the tube is filled with bratty children whining at their parents, crude cartoons, and flashy noisy displays created to anesthetize a child's mind. There are no morals, no education- only shows that T.V. execs deem to be marketable. If you can't turn it into a video game or a t-shirt, it's not "good enough" to be on T.V. Today's T.V. teaches children how they are supposed to dress and talk, which toys they should play with, and what the best sugar cereals are to eat. Thousands of young girls want to grow up to look like Hannah Montanah, and every clothing store from Wa-Mart to Macy's is helping them to acheive that dream I don't think any of us ever said "Wow, Gabriella has the coolest hair! I gotta ask mom for some hair extensions to match hers" (a product that is really available to mimic Miley Cyrus). I miss the PBS of the eighties. It's just not the same.

Watching Mr. Roger's also brought up other non-rant related thoughts. Charles always makes fun of me for calling my Dyson a "sweeper". He's not the first one to point out to me that my family are the only ones who don't use the proper term, vacuum. Well guess who else favors the Beyke word? That's right- Mr. Rogers. After changing into his sneakers and cardigan he saw his carpet was dusty. Out of his studio closet he pulled out his "sweeper" and "swept" the floor. So I gotta ask mom, is that where we got it? Or did we use a sweeper long before Mr. Rogers did?

Another thing I noticed was Mr. Rogers strange way of asking if a guest was at the door. After hearing a knock he stated "I wonder if it's they". Not them; they. At first I thought it was a mistake, that his tongue had twisted the word around. Then he said it a second time "I hear a knock on the door. Let's see if it's they." So is this just another peculiarty like sweeper? Or is this really the proper way of saying someone is at the door? I'm really curious about this one, so if anyone knows the answer please tell me.

Who knew Mr. Rogers could be so thought provoking?

Rhymes with "itsy shanty"

"Ive never cared for Ann Arbor very much. I went to school there really and that's all. I lived, I'm from Ypsilanti, which is more like a town, it's oakies, bunch of oakies." - Iggy Pop, December 1980

Perceptions of Ypsilanti

From ArborWiki

Subtitle: The Ypsi-Arbor Culture War

Ypsilanti often suffers from (or basks in) the disapproving gaze of other Washtenaw County residents. As the income disparity has grown between Ypsi and Ann Arbor (along with its now-satellite communities of Saline, Chelsea, and Dexter), Ypsilanti's working class heritage, racial diversity, and general "grittiness" have set it apart.

Many residents of Ann Arbor and the western Washtenaw communities hold negative perceptions of Ypsi as a haven for drugs and crime and of EMU as the poor cousin to the University of Michigan.

Many Ypsilanti residents take pride in the distinction, though, resisting what they see as creeping yuppification radiating out of Ann Arbor. These residents take pride in what's variously seen as Ypsi's historic heritage, Ypsi's working class cred, or Ypsi's punk appeal. This pride is reflected in a variety of ways, ranging from the annual Ypsilanti Heritage Festival to the "ypsipanties" produced by Crimewave USA while the Ypsi Crime Maps website aims to combat the perception of crime by providing a map comparable to the Ann Arbor Observer's monthly crime map.

"Ypsitucky"

The nickname "Ypsitucky" is a prime example of this mixture of perceptions. Many Ann Arborites and other County residents have heard the name and understand it to be a slur on Ypsilanti. The name has historical roots, however, in the hundreds of workers that Ford relocated from Kentucky to work at the Willow Run bomber plant during World War II. The relocation was large enough that the community of transplants was able to retain some coherent sense of their heritage, and the hybrid nickname has stuck.

Pretty interesting, huh? No wonder Charles and I feel at home here. Our Kentucky roots are callin' to us!

Confession

So, many of you know my tirade against the McDonald's Corporation. I disagree with their marketing practices to young children, their resistance to remove trans fat from their menus and subsequent greenwashing campaigns, and their unfair labor practices in this country and abroad.

However, I have a dirty little secret I have to share...

I am addicted to their iced coffees!

Oh! The temptation!

For the past month I have been sneaking in several (!) coffees a week. I feel guilty every time I sneak out, knowing that no one cares what I do up here, yet frightened all the same that someone might see me in the drive through. Yes, I know that they are not good for me. They probably contain ungodly amounts of High-fructose corn syrup and are most definitely not Fair Trade certified, but I can't keep lying to myself and others. I love these drinks. I can't stop myself.

So I felt it would best to tell you this myself, rather than arriving home for a visit and someone glancing at the floorboard of my car to find the five or so empty, non-recyclable plastic cups with the label of shame upon it: McDonalds Cafe.

Shame.

Introducing...

Bean!

Hey y'all!

This is Bean, Rowie's new best friend.

I bought these happy little organic veggie toys in the hope that it will help Rowie become a healthy eater when he is older. Although now that I think about it, this could backfire- "No mommy! I don't want to eat Broccoli- he is my friend!!"

Or maybe he will just learn to eat his friends...

Life in the Hamptons

Their Hamptons


My Hamptons

My apartment community was just bought by a new company, and they are changing everything! All financial agreements stand (thank goodness) and it looks like the biggest change will be 24 hour access to the racquetball court and fitness center and a new puppy play area. However, I no longer live at Hunt Club- I live in the Hamptons! Probably the only time in my life I can say that!

Jazz Fest!

Silly white people

Well, we just got back from our first trip into Detroit. They were having the International Jazz Festival this weekend. It being free (and we being poor!), it was the logical way for us to spend our Labor Day.

The music was pretty good- there was one band that I really liked because it was an older big-band style jazz group- but the real fun was examining the other festival attendees. I've decided to be an amateur anthropologist, a.k.a. people watcher, and stare unabashedly at everything like a tourist.

However I realize that I am very much the country mouse in the big city. Charles and I were taking a break from the music and sitting on the edge of a fountain when a stringy black man came charging toward us yelling. I completely ignored him (thinking that he was just a stressed out father yelling at wayward children in the pool) until Charles grabbed my arm and said "We need to leave now." Then I heard the man say "So why all you white people gotta be shootin' da niggas?" and realized he was addressing us. The white people. With a white baby. By the time my mind registered what was happening the security guards were already hauling him away. Charles decided it was time for us to go home then!

So that was Detroit.

Here are some pics of the city:





The fountain was my favourite part of the day!