Wednesday, May 19, 2010

In Our New Neighborhood: Putnam Park

Turns out there is a pretty cool park, it's very much like Bunker Hill or Gettysburg. The kids and I had no idea what we were getting into and were quite pleasantly surprised.


The first visit to the park was with the girls I watch on Monday and Wednesday. We stayed, due to the driveway being first, on the non-military side of the park. We just walked around, what appeared to be a normal park. We ended up finding the memorial, statue of General Putnam, and the bullfrog pond (as we call it) at the end of that long hike.








So, then, I was intrigued and brought all the kids back another time...but, again we didn't make it past the bullfrog pond and the memorial (which Elena calls the "Memorial Day").







The last time I took just my kids and we were finally able to really explore the park, read the signs and take it all in...turns out that Putnam Park was the winter encampment of 8000-10,000 revolutionary soldiers. It was called Putnam's Valley Forge. There is not much left...some mounds that were the chimney stacks of all the company housing, some clearings and some graves. The signs are helpful in explaining what archeological digs have uncovered since 1779.








It's funny that a lot of the reconstructed buildings, which were built in 1860, are completed wrong. They have since been proven to have served completely different purposes than originally thought. For example, there is a little cabin at the far end of the site that was labeled as "Officer's Quarters", but later proven to be the fort magazine!





Here's a quote from "Connecticut - Off the Beaten Path" by David and Deborah Ritchie, 1992...today's history lesson:

"When Washington's Northern Army went into winter quarters at the end of November 1778, it was disposed in an arc from New Jersey to Connecticut, so as to ring the British garrison in New York. Three of the army's brigades had their winter encampment at Redding, when they could move east to defend the Hudson Heights or west to defend the Connecticut coast from British raiders. Their commander was Major General Israel ("Old Put") Putnam.

That winter was relatively mild, but the harvest had been poor, and supplies were scarce. The men, many of whom had been through the hell of Valley Forge the previous year, began to mutter about a similar privation winter in Connecticut. Then in December the state experienced one of the worst winter storms in New England history. Two days after it ended, the men of one brigade mutinied and prepared to march on the State Assembly in Hartford to demand overdue supplies and wages. Putnam was able to break up the affair only with the greatest of difficulty. Thus the winter encampment at Redding that came to be known as "Connecticut's Valley Forge."

The original encampment in now the site of Putnam Memorial State Park at the junction of Routes 58 and 107 in West Redding. The twelve-man huts are now just piles of stone where their chimneys stood, and the old magazine is only a stone-lined pit; but the officers' barracks has been rebuilt, and there is a museum on site containing exhibits dealing with the Redding encampment. There's also a great statue by the front gate showing Old Put riding his horse down a flight of stairs to escape capture during a British raid in February of 1779."

Monday, May 03, 2010

The Death of Chickens

So, a rather unfortunate series of events happened today. First, we went to the library to pick out books and picked out not one, not two, but three books with chicken protagonists. We spent the whole ride to my mom's house in Ridgefield talking about the Adventurous Chicken, Louise (who both my children call Muh-weeze for no apparent reason). Anyhow, I digress.

On the way home from school, back to our house, we passed the farm we like to visit. The kids asked if they could go visit the chickies and I said sure. Why not? Not much else planned. Another side note, I have found that if you say "yes" to your kids, enthusiastically and excitedly to their requests a few times a day, the result is MUCH better behavior. Example, Them: "Mommy, can I have a popsicle?" Me: "Sure! Why not? What flavor did you want" Them: stunned and silent and happy for at least two hours.

Anyhow, back to it. We went to the farm. We had visited last week and seen the chicks. Liam absolutely adores hanging in the chicken coop for the young chicks. He picks them up and chases them around. As they get older and more adept at dodging his advances, he does more chasing. Today, I don't think he caught a single one. Last week, however, he caught several. And, as he almost choked the life out them in his little grip, Lenny-style, he noticed a dead chick on the ground. Many, many questions ensued about what happened to the little guy, how did he die? I told him I didn't really know, but it looked as if he was trampled or stepped on. I had to reassure him that the chick was not stepped on by him as it was already dead and squished there when we arrived. He was quite fascinated and had trouble letting the subject go.

I, for one, was glad to see that the carcass had been removed from the coop on this week's visit. Liam, however, immediately noted its absence. "Mommy, where is the dead bird? Where did that dead chick go?" I told him it went to be with God, but he knows better..."Yes, but where did its BODY go?" I told him the farmer probably took it away. He was perplexed and disturbed, but eventually let it go and romped with the baby chicks and visited the rest of the chickens with Elena and me.

At the end of our visit to the farm, we got back into the car. I tried to hurry them along..."Come on now, get into your seats, we have to go home so I can cook dinner. I have a big chicken to put in the oven." As soon as the words had left my mouth I regretted saying them...then Elena said to Liam in an excited voice, "Liam, chicken nuggets for dinner!! WHOO HOO!" That's when it happened. It was almost as if a visible light bulb popped above each child's head. Elena said, "Chicken nuggets! Yay!...Wait...chicken....hmmm...chicken." And then I walked around from securing Liam's seat praying the conversation would be ended by the time I got to the driver's seat. It was not.

Oh shit, it was escalating. Liam was at the helm and he held my heart in his hands. "Mommy," he said almost quivering, "Does the chicken in my nuggets come from the chickens on the farm???" "Is the chicken inside the nuggets from real chickens?"

OH MAN...

Next question: "Wait Mom....REAL chickens die so I can eat them?"

"Awwwww Mommy! I don't want chickens to die!"

Laney, God bless her, was in the back seat trying hard to assuage his fears: "No Liam, not THOSE chickens. Not THOSE ones."

Liam: "But how do they die? Who kills the chicken? Does that man? That farmer we met?"

Laney: "No, not THAT farmer! Another person whose job it is to kill chickens."

Oh help.















Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Fabric Store Heaven

Stopped into the fabric store yesterday to poke around in the remnants and fat quarters. Visiting a fabric store, to me, is like visiting a museum. I am surrounded by cacophonous beauty. I have to hold myself back from buying everything I see...because the beauty is not derived from any one fabric, it's the juxtaposition of ALL of them. Consequently, I want to take them ALL home! I have to come up with specific projects to reign in my spending. Just look at yesterday's finds!



Tuesday, April 27, 2010

My Life in Facebook Statuses (Stati??)

Here's what's been happening in the last few weeks in small, bite-sized, candy-coated chunks!

Kristen Sassano Gill And some days I am an inspired mother...and other days I am a cranky old woman who wonders where these urchins came from. My poor children.

Kristen Sassano Gill Liam just found an open can of spray paint at Joann's and sprayed himself in the face...It stings, Mommy...yeah, I bet it does, nimrod!

Kristen Sassano Gill What's your favorite Easter hymn???

Kristen Sassano Gill Did anyone else feel like the entire natural world was celebrating Easter today in all it's glory?

Kristen Sassano Gill For the record, my kids CANNOT have MILK!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kristen Sassano Gill Heaven is a good walk at lunchtime

Kristen Sassano Gill Seriously, HOW HOT IS IT OUTSIDE

Kristen Sassano Gill GOODNESS, I KNEW I WAS HOT! ... Record high temperature set at LaGuardia NY... a record high temperature of 91 degrees was set at LaGuardia NY today at 354 PM. This breaks the old record of 86 set in 1991.

Kristen Sassano Gill Happy Thursday! (world's most boring and uninspired status)

Kristen Sassano Gill Wanna watch paint dry? Watch your almost six year old tracking time...minute by minute waiting for it to be time for the library to open.

Kristen Sassano Gill Why does painting always end in everybody and everything being paintED?

Kristen Sassano Gill Store bought pie crust is an invention of the gods....we have had homemade chicken pot pie two nights in a row...easy to make and delicious!!!

Kristen Sassano Gill GLEEEEEE!!!! WHEEEEEEEE!!

Kristen Sassano Gill The more I try to figure Lost out, the more tangled I get...well, not true...figuring out the plot is not hard, I twist my brain in knots when I start thinking "BUT WHAT DOES IT MEAN???"

Kristen Sassano Gill Tonight, tapas is on the menu tonight....rice balls, turkey and spinach patties and roasted butternut squash

Kristen Sassano Gill "Did you know that dolphins are gay sharks?"

Kristen Sassano Gill http://mobile.nytimes.com/2010/04/14/dining/14curious.xml

Kristen Sassano Gill L.M.F.A.O. - Hyperbole and a Half: The Alot is Better Than You at Everything hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com

Kristen Sassano Gill Liam's first brain freeze....owwww...."Mommy! Ice cream makes me........HURT!" (while grabbing his forehead and trying to shove his hand down his throat to warm it up)

Kristen Sassano Gill I don't mean to seem like a buzz kill, but I H-A-T-E Wubzy and his band of LOUD friends...

Kristen Sassano Gill Elena Gill: "Dinosaurs aren't real anymore, Liam, they're DISTINCT!"

Kristen Sassano Gill ME: "Life is good...Life is good, Liam" LIAM: "Cause God made it good, Mommy!"

Kristen Sassano Gill Some days are better than others...some days, your son wakes up talking like a prophet and the next day, he disregards every single thing you say until he is kicking your computer and you are holding back from spanking.

Kristen Sassano Gill Why is it that kids don't pick up on PMS? I want you to stop throwing things, climbing on my car, messing up the house, spilling water on yourself, peeing yourself...just for a few days each month...is that too much to ask?

Kristen Sassano Gill Bedtime for the kiddos came in the exact nick of time...I made it by the skin of my teeth...I mean JUST barely.

Kristen Sassano Gill This is EXACTLY what is on my mind right now....
http://www.ritasice.com/uploads/images/gelati.jpg

Kristen Sassano Gill We are about to head out...the kids may not survive until we can actually leave the house. "Liam, please get off the table!!!!"

Kristen Sassano Gill Sometimes the sidebar advertisements are scarily on target...That's ALL I NEED to become part of the "Human Tetris Project" (as if Bejeweled hasn't already stolen enough of my life, time and sanity!)

Sunday, April 25, 2010

A Tale of Childhood in Balloons

JOY:
First, Liam had a balloon. He got it for Easter. It was a big yellow smiley face and he loved it. It made him have a smiley face, too....

DISAPPOINTMENT:
Until, he let it go into space. There was much sobbing...I felt like I was going to cry too...To make matters worse, it wasn't even in space, it was hanging from the high limbs of the elm tree in our driveway. He had much faith in his mommy, "Climb up and get it!!" Um...no...not possible.

SKEPTICISM:
"But Liam, it's great, we can admire it always up there and it will make us smile for a long, long time!" Liam squints and continues to cry.

FURTHER DISAPPOINTMENT:
While I am trying to convince Liam that the balloon will be a nice heralding presence in our driveway from now on, the balloon decided to detach from the tree, thumbing its nose a this line of logic. Imagine me with this face
:-S

REDEMPTION:
We walked to the market and I let him pick out a giant Thomas balloon almost as big as he was...

EVEN FURTHER DISAPPOINTMENT:
It popped within thirty minutes due to death by dragging. The look of indignation on Liam's face was priceless. How DARE you split in two on me! If you only knew the crap I've dealt with with balloons today!

MORE REDEMPTION:
He got a replacement after forcing me into the market to ask for a new one. The new one was small, tied to his hand and his underwear and is still with us...heck, will be with us for the next two months!

POSTSCRIPT:
Liam has moved on, cares nothing for the balloon now, and it merely floats around our house looking to alight on something that might pop it or dart out the door to make a vertical escape and start the whole process of childhood learning over again. Balloons are silly.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

The Mystery of Popov



As I go on my walks around the office complex, there are these Popov vodka bottles as pictured. Not sure where they came from, but I have developed some theories...

1) My suspicion is that they are all from the same person, since they are the exact same bottle, size, brand, etc.

2) They are tossed there from one of the people who works in my office complex.

3) I don't think they are from someone in our building due to the fact that they continue towards a dead end, past our entrance.

4) The bottles were not put there from some partying teens. Since when have you known kids to celebrate with a quart sized bottle of Popov vodka?

5) The bottles are jettisoned on a daily or frequent basis. There must be over 100 of the bottles and they are all in various stages of decomposition.

So, here are the stories I tell myself about the mysterious containers.

Story 1: There is an alcoholic man who lives with his wife and family. They all believe he has quit drinking. So, every day he brings a bottle of vodka to work with him, just enough to get him through the day, but keep him sober enough upon his return home. On his way out, he rolls down his window and tosses the evidence onto the roadside.

Story 2: There is a man who works keeping up the grounds around our building. My theory is that he, as part of his routine, sips at the vodka all day long and then pitches the evidence out onto the road. The wind easily takes the light, plastic container, dispersing it along about a mile stretch of the complex.

I have the weirdest of fantasy of one day bringing a giant garbage bag, collecting every bottle and having a count the bottles contest. I want to photograph them and make Dadaist art. I am intrigued. Like all good mysteries, the answer is not readily available and will continue to offer mind food for my walks for a good long time.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Hanging on the Line...Waiting to be Beat...



Well, not really...but yesterday was laundry line day. First off, I want to preface this post by saying that although I try to lessen my carbon footprint on this earth, I did not switch to a laundry line to try to save electricity. I switched because, well, our dryer switch shit the bed.

The laundry has been piling up and I was just letting it until the mountain of laundry started scaring me. On Friday, I was at Wal-Mart and I had the hair-brained idea of buying some clothespins and a line. I picked out a cute little retractable 9 ft. line. I installed it yesterday and was surprised to see it held about two sweaters. The kids and I put on our walking shoes and headed off the the True Value. After buying 100 ft. of clothesline, I came back to hang it up.

It all went well. I hung the line, pinned up the first part of the first wet load and watched it flying in the breeze like a triumphant celebration. Soon I was low on clothespins and had to head back to the hardware store for another 50. I finished hanging the load and went to the basement to get the second load...a much heavier (it turns out) dark load.

Just moments later, I was in a tug-o-war with the clothesline which had slipped its knot and was threatening to dirty two loads of laundry. I was freaking out and shouting orders to the children, who at 3 and 5 were frankly more harm than help. Jeans and pjs dangled inches from a pile of dust as tugged and fought with the line, cussing and hemming under my breath. Elena said to me, "Mommy, if this project is going to be so frustrating that you're going to be so mad, maybe we should go inside?" Yikes. At one point, not my finest moment, I had the children holding the line precariously up while I followed the line to its midpoint to untwist it. Poor little dears, arms above heads, were not so pleased with helping Mommy.

Eventually, much yanking and ripping of hand skin later, the line was back up. The children, forgiving my outbursts, ran through the damp clothes, a cliche, reminding me of doing the same many times over as a child.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Sunlight Theory of God


This weekend, I had a friend ask me some questions about my faith in God. This was not a contentious discussion, but instead a real honest conversation. The crux of the questioning was, "WHY do you believe in God?" which is one of the hardest questions to answer. I can tell the story of HOW I came to believe in God or WHEN or WHERE...but, WHY? My response, after trying to find stories and logic that would show him why, was to say that I think we are making a head discussion out of something that is really a heart pursuit. I don't ever feel God in my brain...well, I do now, but I certainly didn't feel Him first there. He first held my heart in his hand and healed me with love.

So, as is my way, I tried to think of an analogy to help elucidate this feeling. Here is what I believe. God is like sunlight, bright, warm, enveloping, engendering life and growth. Like the sun, He shines on everything and everybody. With this sunlight, there is no night, only the shadows we create by turning our backs or facing away. He is still there, shining on our backs, reaching for a connection, but we cannot see him. We are turned into our own, self-imposed shadows. We are in the dark and we feel in the dark. When we turn into His light, we are offered all the benefits of his light and love. We grow. We develop. We are able to see. We feel joyous.

Even those of us who spend the good portion of our lives, faces tipped up to God, have times when we turn our backs and live in the shadows. These are times when I try to find my way, on my own, in the dark. Eventually, I turn back into the light and experience the warm, loving touch of my God. I bathe in the sunlight and am warmed all the way through. I bask. I experience the purest joy. I promise I will never turn away again, but I am human and God gave me the freedom to turn away...and sometimes I do.


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Tuesday, January 26, 2010

SHOT Show #4: And the lights...go down in the city...

OK Vegas, bone to pick with you. How is it that a city based on its lights and its flashing brightness could have so many burned out bulbs? Is this the city's version of SADS? Have tough economic times taken their toll on the letters and words spelled out on the sides of giant buildings and signs? You be the judge!











Even the convention center...expecting 50,000 hunters with automatic guns...


Let's get with it! Get some of those new-fangled fusili-shaped light bulbs that last 20 years...in your case, they will only last 10, but what the hey, it's going to be an improvement.

SHOT Show Post #3: The Naked Gun

At one point during the SHOT Show, I looked over and noticed that our bison looked a little nervous...why was he a little nervous? Can you see between his legs? (NO! That's not why he's nervous, dirty mind!)


Here, I'll focus it for you...


Still can't really see it? Here, let me zoom in...


Yup...just your standard naked sniper, nothing really.


And then, staring down the barrel of the naked gun...not sure you can see that he is pointed RIGHT at our bison, but there he is...


Naked gunman. Definitely NOT what I expected to see at SHOT Show...AT ALL!

SHOT Show Post #2 - SHOT Show Cuisine

Everything is better....
dehydrated?




Scrambled eggs...YUM!
From a can?
IMG00648.jpg

Buffalo...It's what's for dinner.


Caroline modeling the latest in cookbooks for our shelves...


At least there is a dessert section:
IMG00645.jpg

SHOT Show Post #1 - New Products

Well, at least new to me!

1) Game Management Systems - aka deer feeders, molasses licks, vitamins syrups and apple and peanut butter flavored pellets. These feeders are touted as nutrient rich. My question was, does the hunter really care to nourish his game? My mistaken assumption about these feeders was that they were only for luring the deer to be shot. Well, actually they are feeding systems that start in the fall and keep the deer around for the spring hunt. Their main goal is to maximize antler growth. Bizarre and, to me, a little like cheating!


2) The Game Sled - When you have bagged your kill, you then can pull it home on a tarpaulin-fashioned sled. My favorite thing about this product, beside the lovely graphic pictures of dead animals being pulled home in slings, was the slogan. Tag it! Bag it! Drag it! (I have to admit it's catchy and sticks with you...it could be heard being uttered around the booth during moments of excitement and frustration).


3) Camo Diva - Yes, ladies, camo is not just for boys anymore. On the off chance that you would like a prom dress, wedding dress, lingerie or swimsuit in camo, check out Camo Diva. Well, even if not, check it out anyway! www.camodiva.com

4) Stag Arms - I have to admit, there is nothing at all special about this product, except that when I first encountered its name, I had no idea what it was. I seriously thought it had something to do with hanging the deer after the kill. My booth mate thought it had to do with the antlers (aren't those the stag arms after all?). Can you tell we are not hunters? Stag arms is merely a hunting gun maker. OHHHH! THAT kind of arm!

5) Burnham Brothers - While not the catchiest named business, the products they make were interesting to me because I never would have conceived of a market for them. They made calls. Not only the traditional duck and goose calls you would expect, but dying rabbit calls and hurt animal calls that would attract the predator to become prey.