Anne Frank

This video of Anne Frank was released by the Anne Frank House Museum in Amsterdam recently. It is the only known footage, shot for a neighbor's wedding on July 22, 1941. Anne had turned twelve the month before, it was about a year before they went into hiding.
She's easily recognisable, the one with the short dark hair up in the window.
I only wonder what they were saying to each other. It's too bad there isn't sound.
I think Anne seems sort of springy and bubbly, which is how I always have imagined her. Of course it's hard to tell, it's only a few seconds.

I'm a Big Sister!

This it my beautiful baby brother, Max. Actually his full name is Simon Maxwell, but we're calling him Max.

My parents sort of got the idea from Where the Wild Things Are, and I approve heartily. I love the name Max.

We thought he would never come. He insisted on being very overdue. The birth was interesting, and I missed it.

At first I didn't know what to think of him, because we had all thought he was a girl, and because I've seen all of my siblings born. So I walked into the room and everything was over, and there was a strange baby. Who was a boy. But my mother was very happy.

I have to confess that for the first three days I had terrible guilt, because I didn't feel much of anything about him. Usually I feel instantly attached, and with Max I just felt vaguely shocked and disgruntled.

However, he's so soft and sweet, and he smells so nice and babyish, and his hair is so silky and fine, and his eyes are so big and wise, that very soon I began to feel differently. He looks at me--just stares. And when I talk, he turns to see me. He recognized my voice from the first time I saw him, and he seemed to like me. I don't know why that was such a shock, but it was. He seems very interested to see all those people he's been hearing for months, which I guess shouldn't be any surprise--it's only logical. Babies are very intelligent and advanced, although some people don't seem to think so.

But I guess it's a good thing I'm loud, because it seems he heard me very well in there.

He doesn't really cry--he's very easy going. He grunts and fusses, but he rarely ever just screams, like most babies. He likes to look at me, when I'm holding him. I think he can tell now that I'm quite used to him and feel quite normal again, because he seems more comfortable with me.

Josiah likes him a lot--probably because his name is Max. ;-) At least, that gave them a good start. The first time he saw him, Josiah was screaming, and we said: 'Look--it's baby Max!'

And he stopped, looked at him, and said, 'Max?' In complete disbelief.

His eyes were big, I don't think I've ever seen him so much surprised and at a loss. He reached out and very carefully and briefly laid his hand on the baby's blanket, very softly. Then he leaned out of my arms and gently put his head against him, and smiled.

My talent for getting infants to sleep has returned to me, as it has a habit of doing. I always rock them in this rocking chair.

This is Max and his great-grandmother. I know he looks extremely irate in this picture, but he really did calm down and enjoy himself--after I'd taken pictures, of course, but the fact is that he did, and that's all that matters. You can see mom reflected in the mirror, which I think is very interesting.

This is Maura and Josiah. . .I used to rock her in the rocking chair. She was also born in September, so it was the same season.

And this is a very happy, relieved mommy! She was definitely ready to have the baby.

Oh yes, his birthday is September 25'th. He was 10lb, 3oz, and 22 inches long.

Isn't he lovely?

The Plaid Shirt

So here is the finished shirt! All ready for fall. I rolled the sleeves, but I didn't make that permanent because I wanted to be able to scrunch them up if I wanted to. While that's a nice, trendy idea, I don't think I ever will, because it's such a bother. But it's a possibility. I put three gathers down each side on the front to make it more fitted. Since it's plaid it just looks neat anyways. I also removed the pocket flaps and buttons. It was very easy, and now it doesn't look like a sack anymore! It would also look cute belted. I couldn't think of anything else to do to it, so I stopped there.

Of course I'm scrunched over in most of these pictures, I realised, so it's hard to tell the difference.

There is an interesting story here. . .my sisters and I went out in the woods to do this, and my nine-year-old sister Grace took the pictures. Now, there's a little girl who may give me a run for my money! I was very surprised, she seemed to know exactly what she was doing, like she'd done clothing shoots a million times before. ;-) She was like:

"Okay, turn a little bit--lift your head up more--and move your arm, move it a little to the right--okay, hold that. *flash* Okay, now I'm going to take a vertical one. Very good! Okay, now we'll do one next to the tree. . ."

I told her I felt like Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face!

After a while she just started taking random pictures, all of which turned out great. She centered them, adjusted the zoom, etc. I take about five pictures before I get one I'm happy with, but she's very conscious of all the picture-taking steps. For instance, we were actually "done" picture-taking when I started finding mushrooms. . .I dug the one in the picture above out of the leaves, and she snapped that one.

The pleats. . .

The Great Pumpkin Saga

So, since I can't hit a Starbucks every day, I've really, really been wanting to get some canned pumpkin so that I can make those pumpkin lattes at home! However, when we went to the grocery store, they were actually sold out of canned pumpkin. At a Wal-Mart supermarket. Apparently they were also sold out of pumpkin at my Nana's grocery store in Florida, and she says it's just been a bad year for pumpkin, causing a shortage of some sort. (Which bodes ill for Thanksgiving). Whatever the cause, I was forced to take pioneer methods and make my own. Seeing as we have two pumpkins from our garden, I chose the smaller one and decided to make my own pumpkin puree. You cut up the pumpkin into halves or quarters, put it in a pan, cover it with tinfoil (this takes a lot of dexterity and meditation--believe me, it's not that easy!) and then bake it at 350 until it's soft and the edges are browned and wrinkled--just like baking a squash, if you've ever done that. Then you manage to scrape it out (don't believe Internet stories that you can just peel the skin off) and puree it in the blender. My online sources assured me that after having fresh pumpkin puree I would never want to go back to store bought, but I'm not quite that enthusiastic. It took forever for the pumpkin to cook! I finally bumped it up to 375.

I found this inside the pumpkin, growing in the rows of seeds. Apparently one sprouted. . .and started growing. . .and turned green. . .all inside the pumpkin. Which seems impossible to me, but whatever. You can see the trailing white tail it has, that was almost rooted in the pumpkin guts, I pulled it out and could feel it separate from the pumpkin. Too weird for words, I know. Although perhaps professional pumpkin puree-ers see that sort of thing all the time.

I thought it was interesting how the pumpkin was whiter and softer at the top, and then got yellow and firm--an entirely different consistency altogether. Very pretty.

Also, I decided to be very thrifty and roast the seeds. You can see I got quite a lot from one small pumpkin.

And they're an excellent excuse to take yet another close-up of something.

Ah, yes--the puree. I'm going to freeze it instead of canning it, which seems way over the top and entirely unnecessary to me, when I have a much simpler method of preservation. Until the power goes out, of course. Aha! Now for the most important part. . .the only thing that got me to even look twice at that pumpkin in the first place.

Here is the pumpkin latte mixture in the pot:

And the lovely end result! Two delicious pumpkin lattes. Although I will admit, I decided it needed more pumpkin than the recipe called and it was a little chunky. And I got distracted trying to explain the concept of a matching mug to an anonymous family member and the mixture boiled, which may have made the coffee taste a little strong. But otherwise, completely delicious!

So Chris Thomas King's "Hard Time Killing Floor Blues" from the film O Brother, Where Art Thou has always been one of my favorites.

But today I decided to finally research it and see when it was actually written. I've never done it before, I guess because I was afraid I would find it only a convincing, but modern song made for the movie.

I was pleasantly surprised, however! It was written by Skip James, the gentleman preforming the song in the first video, in 1931. I was pleased to see that Mr. King's version did full justice to the original. I must admit I like the guitar better in the modern version, but I think the less distinct, crackly, dog-eared quality of the older recording adds to its charm.

Doing an Internet search on Skip James is definitely worth it--he lived an interesting life, and was beginning to gain public attention when the Great Depression came along and cut his career short.

However, he experienced a return to the public attention towards the end of his life, in the 1960s.

So. . .compare the two, see which you like best.

The Old Plaid Shirt

So this is my trusty old plaid shirt. I've had it ever since I was ten. I believe my aunt gave it to me--it was hers before that, so I don't know how old it is. The arms are a bit short, and as you can see, it is truly horrible in its sloppiness. (Okay, so pairing it with an orange shirt and plaid skirt did nothing to make it more attractive, but you get the idea). It makes me look like I've raided the closet of a lumberjack, and I don't think I've worn it in public since I was eleven or twelve.

But I love this shirt! It's so soft and comfy. I always wear it as a jacket around the house, and a few times when I've been really desperate in winter (our house is big and old, and subsequently gets really cold, we don't have central heat) I've worn it as one layer out of many. All last winter I always put it on over my pajamas when I woke up in the morning for added heat after leaving my warm bed.

But it's always been a great regret that it's too sloppy to wear in public! However, upon receiving the newest Anthropologie magazine, I was a bit inspired. The setting was very artistic and interesting, telling a story, which I liked a lot, and the setting they used--autumn woods and weekend cabin, as well as some small-town/general store settings--seemed very North Carolinian to me. And of course, since it's their fall mag, there was a lot of inspiring plaid clothing!

As you can see in the above picture, the shirt has pocket flaps and buttons. I didn't put it on all the way because I had already started altering one side before I thought to take before pictures. ;-) You can sort of see the pleats on the side that I'm holding out.

Here are some good befores--I hadn't done anything to it at this point. The cloth is good, even after many years of wear. It's 100% cotton, and Faded Glory, which I'm pretty sure is a Wal-Mart brand.As you can see, the torso is very roomy, the arms strangely short, the pocket flaps persistently wrinkled and the whole thing just rather frumpy, lifeless, and limp. I believe a good shirt should look attractive all by itself on the hanger--if it doesn't, it probably won't look much better on the wearer.

So with that philosophy in mind, I decided to renovate my old shirt and make it wearable for this fall.

So, these are the befores. . .afters to follow. . .

Go Down Moses

I've recently learned to play this song on the piano! Only much simpler and a lot less jazzy.