It worked out pretty well, actually.

The cucumber, without its peel or seeds, pretty much just faded into the background and left me with a dense, moist, blueberry quickbread (not sweetbread.  Different thing.)  Denny and I polished half a loaf last night.  I bet if it hadn’t occurred after Miles’s bedtime, he would have liked it too.  We’ll find out soon.

Ingredients:

3 eggs
1/2 cup oil
1/2 cup applesauce
~2.5 cups shredded cucumber from a cucumber that has been peeled and seeded    (for me, this was 1 large cucumber)
2 tsp vanilla
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup brown sugar, packed
3 cups AP flour
2 tsp kosher salt or 1 tsp regular salt
1 tsp baking powder (I will increase this next time for more lift)
1/4 tsp baking soda (again, I will increase this next time)
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 pint fresh blueberries
2 tablespoons raw or turbinado sugar

Method:

Heat oven to 350F.

In the bowl of a mixer, beat eggs lightly.  Add oil, applesauce, sugars, and vanilla; beat to combine.  Gently mix in cucumber.  In a separate bowl, mix flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon; add to the wet ingredients and mix until just combined.

Stop the mixer, remove the beater, and fold in the blueberries by hand.  Pour into 2 9×5 loaf pans.  Sprinkle each loaf with 1 tablespoon turbinado sugar.  Bake at 350F for about 1 hour and 20 minutes, or until a pick comes out clean.

{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment.

We thought we were so smart by not planting any zucchini this year.

I was a little sad when Denny accidentally smashed one of my two cucumber plants in its infancy.

Yeah, turns out one is plenty.

I haven’t been very good about grabbing them up when they’re little, and I’m getting kind of sick of cucumber/tomato/onion salads (they’re great, but ya know).  I’m thinking about grating them up and using them like zucchini in a zucchini bread recipe.  I’ll report back.

Miles had chosen a button-up shirt to wear, which required a little more effort to put on than his usual t-shirts.

A:   Okay, let’s get ‘er on.

M:  It a girl?

A:   Oh, no.  Sometimes people say “her” just to be silly.

M:  Okay, let’s get she on.

Miles woke up from his nap later than usual and therefore was still kind of sleepy-grumpy when Denny got home.  He wasn’t in the mood for their usual ritual of waving as Denny approached from the bus stop and playing peek-a-boo at the window.

M:  No waving!

A:  You don’t want to wave to Daddy?

M:  Miles not into it.

{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment.

{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment.

One of Miles’s current favorite books is I Love You Because You’re You, by Liza Baker. For the last few nights, we’ve been going through this ritual before we read it at bedtime.

A:  What’s this book about?

M:  It about a mommy who loves her baby soooooooooo much.

A:  Do you know a mommy like that?

M:  How ’bout… (pointing at me) THIS mommy!

My dear little Miles,

This has been a summer of toe baths, corn on (and off) the cob, swimming and splashing, and sweaty little curls plastered to your scalp.

Toe baths are a local invention intended to address your serious pew-pew-stinky-feet problem.  It’s not your fault, really.  You’re a a little kid, your sandals get wet, your feet get stinky.  But it can get pretty serious, so we plunk you on the side of the sink and give you a little foot Jacuzzi to handle the issue.  We’re looking into some bathroom remodeling downstairs, and I like pedestal sinks.  I think it’s going to be important to keep at least one traditional counter sink in the house as long as there are stinky toes running around, though.

Another big thing you’ve discovered this month are classic fairy tales.  It started with me telling you the stories of Jack and the Beanstalk and Goldilocks and the Three Bears, which led us to pick up a collection at the library.  You especially like The Three Little Pigs, The Gingerbread Boy, and The Three Billy Goats Gruff.  When we were at the Ames aquatic center the other day, there was a pool break in which all kids under 16 had to get out of the water.  Mubby stayed with you while your dad and I floated along the lazy river, and she told me that as we passed, you said, “Little pig, little pig, let me in.”

(Photo above by Gary Clarke)

You love all things categorizable, such as the jar of sprinkles I bought for you and Beanie to use in decorating her birthday cupcakes.  It’s divided into six sections, and each section contains a different shape of sprinkle.  You like to go around the jar and name each one.  Sometimes you ask for a hint, like “This is the kind of animal Papa has” for the cows, or “This is the animal Mommy likes to kiss” for the dolphins.  I know you know all the animals by now, but you still often ask for hints, just as part of the ritual.

You love to sing and dance, especially the monkey dance, and you like making up new lyrics for your favorite songs (sometimes with actual words, sometimes with gibberish).  You’re getting good at drawing faces, complete with eyes, noses, mouths, and eyebrows.  You love your iChat AV sessions with Mubby and Skittergramps, and you carefully tracked Skittergramps’s healing process from his hernia surgery.  As he recovered, you reminded him every day that his “owie [was] muuuuuuch better.”  When you skinned your knee, you enjoyed finding parallels between his healing process and yours.  And on our recent visit, you were thrilled that he had been cleared by his doctor to lift you once again.

Last weekend was a big one, with a trip to Ames and then a visit to the Crall family farm near Albia.  Mubby picked up a crazy inflatable contraption for you, which you named “Weird Toy.”  It was indeed weird, but you had fun tossing the balls around.  You also had fun with Aunt Suzy and Uncle Joe, who were kind enough to make the long drive from Minnesota to see you.  As usual, Aunt Suzy picked out the coolest toy ever, and you had a good time putting outfits on the magnetic doll.

Down at the farm, you got to play with Nana and Papa and assorted cousins.  It was an outrageously hot day, and you didn’t get a nap, but you were a great sport.  You kept cool by splashing in the wading pool, and you were a great sport through all our travels.  Next month at this time we’ll be at a wedding in Colorado, which means another plane trip for you.  This one should be pretty painless, though, since it’ll be a direct and relatively brief flight.  Besides, you’re a travel pro, as long as there are enough cookies and Matchbox cars to keep you busy.

I’ve had two dreams in the last couple of weeks that involve being on vacation on a tropical island, and in both of them, you and your daddy were right there with me.  I guess that means that whatever adventure I have, you’re a part of it (or more often, the cause of it).  Thanks for being my little adventure buddy.  I love you like Baby Bear loves porridge.

Love,

Mommy

I was telling Miles about a dream I had that we were on a tropical island vacation.

A:  Wouldn’t it be fun to swim in the ocean and the  pool and drink rum cocktails?  Well, maybe you’d better stick to juice.

M:  We don’t stick to juice.  We drink juice.

Copying Darah, who was inspired by another.

{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment.

I have been on a hunt for a perfect pie crust for years.  My old stand-by, the Cooks Illustrated recipe, makes a delicious-tasting crust, but the dough is so delicate that I always end up swearing a lot when I make it.  Miles is getting old enough now that he shouldn’t hear sh*t like that.  What’s more, the CI recipe results in an extremely tender crust that can’t really hold up to juicy fruit fillings.  Getting a slice out of the pie pan usually results in a glob of fruit on the plate with pie crust sprinkled over it.

It’s tasty, yes, but not perfect.  It’s also kind of a pain, because it involves shortening and butter separately diced and chilled, then it’s done in the food processor, which seems easy at the time but loses its appeal when it comes time to clean all those parts.  And forget making a double batch.

Next I tried a supposedly fool-proof all-butter crust from Smitten Kitchen.  That author eschews the food processor and recommends a pastry blender.  To be fair, I was using a butter I hadn’t used very much (Lurpak), which I thought was going to be great because it was expensive and European.  But something went wrong, and although the dough was one hundred times easier to work with than the CI recipe, it resulted in a tough, really unpleasant crust.  To this day I’m embarrassed that I served it to my Grammy.

I didn’t make any pies for a while.

Then I found this recipe from the awesome Chez Pim.  She claims it’s perfect, suitable for sweet or savory fillings, one- or two-crust pies, tarts, even Pop-Tarts.

Her technique was one I’d never tried before.  Not only does she not recommend a food processor, she doesn’t even employ a pastry blender.  Wha?  I never realized there was alternative (except maybe two knives, but does anyone really do that?).  What she suggests is a method in which you plop unfussily-cut butter directly onto a pile of flour, then mash it with your palm.  You keep tossing flour into the mashed-butter, smashing and mooshing all the way, until it’s incorporated.  Then you throw some water on there and chill it.  That’s first step.

Next, you use a puff-pastry technique of multiple flips and folds that’s a lot easier than it sounds.  Pim’s site has a complete step-by-step with photos, and you’ll find it’s really quite simple.  It’s counter to all I’d read about pie crust prep, but having done it once now, I’m a true believer.

My crust came out crisp yet delicate, extremely flaky, and with the great flavor that can only come from good old salted butter.

I’m blogging a simplified version here, though I recommend you reference Pim’s original for your first time.  She admits to cribbing the idea from the Zuni Cafe, and they make a helluva chicken, so why not?

Fantastic Pie Crust that Makes Me Hopeful for Humanity

250 grams (~2.25 cups) AP flour
8 oz (2 sticks) salted butter
60 ml (.25 cup) cold water

Cut butter into slabs and work it into the flour with the heel of your left hand (or your right hand if you’re left-handed).  Use your other hand to scoop the loose flour into the mix with a pastry scraper.

When it’s a nice mix of big flakes of flour-coated butter and some smaller crumbs, make a well and pour in the water.  Quickly gather it all together with your fingers until it makes a cohesive ball.

Chill the ball for 30 minutes.

On a well-floured pastry board, roll the chilled dough ball into a rectangle, then fold it over into thirds (like folding a letter to put in an envelope).  Before you overlap any dough, brush off excess flour with a pastry brush (this is important, according to Pim.  I’m not going to doubt her on this.).  Rotate 90 degrees and repeat the rolling/brushing/folding.  Repeat, making a total of 3 or so operations.  The dough will become more elastic as you work.  This is what will save you from scarring your kid’s brain with profanities.

Divide into 2 balls, then chill for at least 30 minutes.

Roll one ball into a ~11-12 inch  round, then transfer to a 9-inch pie plate.  I did it on the first try, no horror at all!  Fill it with your favorite filling, then put egg wash around the outer edge.  Roll out the second ball and put it on top.  Pinch the edges decoratively.  Do an egg wash on top, and if it’s a sweet pie, sprinkle coarse sugar on top.

Romance Peach Pie filling

6-7 peaches, peeled and sliced
1 cup sugar
1 tablespoon lemon juice (I used white wine vinegar + Meyer lemon extract because I didn’t have a lemon around)
4 tablespoons cornstarch
1 pinch salt
1 pinch cinnamon
dash cloves
dash nutmeg

Combine the above.  Be sure you’re using a glass pie pan.  Pour the filling into the lower crust and place the upper crust.  Cut vents in the upper crust.  Preheat oven to 500F with a rimmed metal baking pan in it.  When oven is ready, place pie pan directly on metal baking pan and lower heat to 425F.  Bake for 25-30 minutes.  Reduce heat to 375F and bake for another 25-30 minutes, until the top is golden brown and the juices bubble.  You may need to put a pie guard or aluminum foil around the edge to prevent over-browning.

–

Why is it Romance Peach Pie, you ask?  Well…Denny and I shared a peach on our first date, and we had peaches on our wedding cake, and peaches are always coming into season right around our anniversary.  So there you go.

Miles first relayed this composition to Beanie, but he’s been singing it frequently for days now.  He originally came up with it while pounding on the piano with a rubber ball in each hand.

M: Mary had two little balls
Little balls
Little balls.

Mary had two little balls…

And she pooped.

Miles was just finishing up a packet of fruit snacks, which are glorified gummy bears.  I don’t like him to eat too many of them, because even though we buy the hippie organic kind with no HFCS and whatnot, they’re still somewhat junky.  Also, they’re expensive.

M:  Want more fruit snacks.

A:  Let’s change your diaper, and after that you can have another snack.

M:  Fruit snacks.

A:  Oh, you need fruit snacks?

M:  Mommy said it wrong.

For those who haven’t seen them elsewhere (each video is about 1:30)…

Miles has fun with various California-based relatives, notably Cousin Lisa (puppet show auteur):

Adventures in San Francisco, including a mildly offensive hat for Miles and a whap in the face for Mubby:

Our trip to Monterey:

Denny and Aprille and lots of whales:

Hey, Miles—guess what I love?

Your brain.

We were reading one of your favorite books, Tacky the Penguin by Helen Lester.  It’s about a penguin who is kind of weird, but valuable in his own way.  Unlike his tidy friends, Tacky doesn’t march 1-2-3-4; he marches 1-2-3, 4-6, 3-6-0, 2 1/2, 0 (or something—pardon my slight inaccuracies).  One recent time when we read that story, we got to the 2 1/2 part, and you said, “Just like Miles!”

Yes, my little heart, you are two and a half.  I read somewhere that the terrible twos peak right around this point, but you have been a joy lately.  You handled our vacation like a little trooper, despite air travel, car travel, jet lag, weird nap schedules, new people, and lots of busy and loud places.  You had a few trouble spots, of course, but mostly you handled things great.

In fact, you even invented a new strategy for ensuring your precious personal space.  You employed it with great aplomb with your Auntie Lily, who is a deeply loving person and your very special buddy, but she can sometimes be a little enthusiastic for your tastes.  When she got up in your face requesting kisses and you weren’t into it, you turned back to your watercolors and said, very matter-of-factly, “Busy painting right now!”

I’m so proud of what a good job you’re doing as you learn and experience new things.  You had a blast playing with your cousin Lisa in California, especially swimming in Uncle Larry’s pool.  With your water wings on, you quickly got over any trepidation and tooled around the pool like a big guy.

We had so much fun on our vacation.  You ate lots of noodles and Chinese food, and you loved the fish and penguins (you did the ASL sign for “I love you” to them through the glass) at the Monterey Bay Aquarium.   You thought the shops full of brightly colored plastic junk items in Chinatown were fantastic.  You danced and sang and watched fireworks, and you and Skittergramps did inventory of your little guys and little girls every morning.

On our trip to the beach in Monterey, you enjoyed the sand more than the ocean, but that’s an improvement over last time.  You liked finding rocks and instructing your dad to throw them into the water, and you really liked the seashells Mubby collected for you.  They’re in your penguin backpack right now, ready to play with once the newness of your home toys wears off.

Today is the first day back to our normal routine, and I think it’s good for everybody.  You were excited to see Beanie when she arrived this morning, and you gave her a nice round of applause and a big hug.  You reminded us that Mommy would be home at lunch time and Daddy would be home at dinner time, and you let us leave with nary an issue.

You’re making sentences and forming observations about your world.  You’re telling jokes, mostly focusing on the absurd (e.g., telling me that Daddy is actually Mommy and that we eat not with our mouths and tummies but with our eyeballs).  We’ve been telling bedtime stories, and you can recite Goldilocks and the Three Bears almost start-to-finish, and you’re able to fill in the blanks of Jack and the Beanstalk pretty thoroughly too.  When I was a little girl, Skittergramps would tell me bedtime stories, and sometimes he’d fall asleep and I’d have to finish them for him.  I think you’re not to far from that level.

You definitely like things your way.  This morning I was tidying up a little before Beanie arrived, and you got mad at me for moving your penguin backpack into the play room.  When I brought it back to the living room, you weren’t happy about me standing it in corner, either.  No, it had to be lying flat, exactly as I’d found it.  I guess that makes for easier access to your seashells.

Your dad is happy about the fact that you guys can play Legos together.  We just got back from Chicago, where I was attending a conference and you got some good Daddy time.  Your dad spotted the Lego store, and the items you purchased there occupied you for the rest of our time in Chicago, and they were among the first things we unpacked when we got home.  You are especially fond of the clear blocks.  Your dad is pretty psyched about them too.  Sometimes he remembers to share.

You’re doing all kinds of smart and cool stuff lately, and I love watching you make mental connections.  You were watching me edit video of our trip, and the iMovie icon for a cross-fade transition shows the silhouettes of three people riding bicycles.  You pointed to them and said, “Mommy, Daddy, Miles.”  You said the same thing last night when you found three columns in your block set.  We’re a good team, the three of us.

Thanks for letting us be your co-captains.

(This may be optimistic.)

Love,

Mommy

After a long period of travels, we got home yesterday afternoon, and we were all happy about it.  Having no groceries, we went out to Panera in the evening to get some dinner.  Miles was being cheerful and snuggly while we waited in line to order.

Denny:  You’re happy to be home, aren’t you?

Miles:  We not home.  We at Pan-eh-wa.

Sorry, sorry—there will be a Monthly Miles Memo soon, we’ve just been traveling for what seems like eight years. As soon as things quiet down and we’re back home I’ll be all over that.

As reported by Beanie:

Miles is sitting on floor, popping bubble wrap.

M: Beanie? Beanie!?

B: Yes?

M: Thinkin bout polar bears, okay?

Happy 29 months, my little guy.

I was just listening to you play in the other room.  You were talking on your toy phone.  You said, “Hi, Uncle Tyler.  How you doing?  Miles talk on phone.  Bye, Uncle Michael.  Bye, Uncle Tyler.”

It was a three-party call, apparently.

That type of play is something you’ve been doing more lately:  sitting quietly and enjoying your toys and using your imagination.  That, of course, is balanced by your other new favorite game, called “Daddy Need a Hug.”  To do that, you start in the play room, run at full-speed down the hallway, do a lap around the coffee table in the living room, and eventually land in Daddy’s arms.  Sometimes you get so excited about the running part that you skip the hug and just run the course again, but the sentiment is there.

You’ve been so creative and fun lately.  It’s been wonderful to get outside and play, because you have such a great time running around in the grass and at the playground.  One of your favorite things lately is to throw sticks off the bridge into the creek.  You also love to blow the puff off dandelions, throw wood chips everywhere, and examine our strawberry patch for new ripe fruit.

A couple of weeks ago, your dad and I were getting some gardening done while you played in the back yard.  Your favorite thing was to soak a sponge in a bucket of water, then squeeze it out over our strawberry patch.  Now that we have a bumper crop of strawberries coming on, I like to remind you how much you helped by watering them.  You’re so proud of yourself, and I like for you to see the connection between work and rewards.

This is a concept that hasn’t been working so well with regard to the potty.  We got you a fancy new one, but you won’t even sit on it unless you’re fully dressed.  I’m not sure what your hangup is, and even promises of chocolate mints (your favorite—Andes and York Peppermint Patties are both acceptable) won’t get your nude butt on there.

I just keep telling myself that I’m unlikely to have to change your size 14 diaper before your high school graduation.  We’ll get it done eventually.

One thing we’ve noticed lately is that you know all the words to the songs we’ve been singing you since you were little.  I guess that makes sense, since you’ve heard them hundreds of times, but it’s really funny to hear the lyrics to my silly, made-up songs come out of your mouth.

A:  Who’s my little Scooper-boo?

M:  It Miles!  It Miles!  Who little ‘cooper-boo?  It Miles!  It Miles!

You also get excited about the goofy songs I make up on the spur of the moment to describe the world around us.  I didn’t even realize I did it as much as I do until you started pressuring me to repeat them.  These songs are not artistic masterpieces.  Many of them sound really stupid, actually, but you enjoy them.  One that has become popular around the house:

(To the tune of “Hey, Jude”)

Don’t smoke.
It makes you gross.
It makes you gross and
I’m not into it.

That’s pretty much it.  I’m more excited when you demand and repeat the higher-quality items in my repertoire, like Arrorró mi niño.  That’s a Latin American lullaby I learned when I was just a little kid, and I love singing it to you.  You can sing along now pretty well, too.

We need to get you out to the swimming pool another once or twice before vacation.  At the end of this month, we’re going to California to see Uncle Larry and Auntie Lily, and you are pretty excited about using the pool in their yard.  Anything with water thrills you, from a lawn sprinkler to a hotel pool to a cup at the table.

You had an outrageously fun time playing with Uncle Tyler on our recent trip to Omaha.  There was a problem with our hotel pool, and the thought of you not being able to swim was just too sad, so we ended up trekking out to another pool to swim.  You had so much fun, both swimming and going to the zoo.  You’re a little unusual—sometimes it seems like you’re not having fun because you can be so serious.  But I think you’re really just learning and concentrating.  One of the first animals we saw was a cheetah, which someone (Skittergramps, maybe?) named Mr. Cheetah.  You seemed to enjoy it as much or as little as any of the other animals, and we continued along.  But last Sunday, we were at a store that had a lot of realistic-looking stuffed animals.  You pointed up to a spotted big cat and said “Mr. Cheetah!”

The animals were cool, but when I asked you what your favorite part of the weekend was, you told me it was playing on the bed with Uncle Tyler.

Every day, it seems, you do something new and funny and wonderful.  Some days you do some crappy things.  We almost didn’t make it out of the house last Sunday because you were throwing an extended tantrum.  I’m glad we did, though.  Once you got calmed down, we had a tasty brunch, rudeness-free, and then we went to a graduation party.  You had a blast there.  You met two big kids, the children of your dad’s coworker, and you guys played ball and ran around on the grass.  You pulled out your A material for them, including the SPRING BREAK torso flash and the ‘tude face.  Now you want to talk about Holly and Eli all the time.

This summer is going to be great, Little Miles.  We’ll be on vacation for your next month completion date, which is actually your half birthday, so the next installment will be a little late.  But never you fear.  The summer is only beginning, and there’s nothing better than being a little kid in the summertime.

Thank you for being my little Scooper-boo.  I wouldn’t want a summer without you.

Love,

Mommy