Preparing for Dave Matthews

This weekend we are going to see Dave Matthews Band

play at the Gorge Amphitheater in Washington.

Orin, being a huge DMB fan, is really excited.

He has been practicing some dance moves to show off at the concert.

Think of this as a sneak preview:

Zucchini Processing

You may have noticed that it has been a while since my last post.

If you are really observant, you may have also noticed that

the long break came right at the time

when Orin and I left Massachusetts.

The reason for this is that although we made the flight back home,

my camera did not... in fact, it didn't even make it to the airport.

So although you have missed a couple post-worthy happenings

-including a camping trip with our neighbors,

an amazing Amos Lee concert, and Orin cutting several new teeth-,

I felt that without pictures you would find

my ramblings to be dull at best.

However, my camera arrived yesterday, just in time for a spectacular

event that I am sure you will be very grateful you didn't have to miss:

Zucchini Processing Day.

You might remember my troubles earlier in the year involving

my super-productive zucchini plants.

Well, after making zucchini soup, zucchini bread, and freezing a bag

for winter recipes, I still had a problem:

But I was not alone, my neighbor Hillary had the same problem:

Luckily, she had a solution:

A state of the art Zucchini Processing Machine.

All you have to do is cut the zucchini into chunks

and stuff it into the top of the machine.

A wonderful grinding noise follows and then, presto,

grated zucchini dumps into your waiting bowl.

Trust me, if you are in the market for any grated zucchini,

this machine beats the heck out of doing it by hand.

We got to work immediately.

Hillary's son, Cole, offered to help with the grinding

while Dakota scooped the seeds from the chunks before

they were fed through the machine.

Orin refused to help, stating haughtily

that he didn't even like zucchini.

But regardless of being down one set of hands,

the assembly line was quite productive.

Grated zucchini spilled forth almost faster than I could bag it.

In the end, however, we were defeated by the enormous pile.

Tired and sticky, after several hours

we decided to call the processing operation to a close.

Here are the survivors:

And my share of the less fortunate:

I am already looking forward to fresh zucchini bread in January.

To my dogs back in Oregon...

I miss you.

For all of the trouble that you cause,

you do save me from cleaning up rejected baby food,

because lord knows there is always something on the floor.

Only one more day...

Fishing

Yesterday Orin decided to go fishing.
Initially, he was fishing for his grandmother's new kitten, Pi,
but when Pi got scared and ran away,
he turned his attention on another potential target: me.
Because I was larger than the kitten, two poles were necessary.
First, he attempted to catch me using a plain, boring lure,
but I didn't go for it.
Next, he tried a really snazzy, colorful lure,
but, alas, no matter how interesting the bait,
I would not bite.
Frustration ensued.
Eventually I was forgiven for my stubbornness,
but only after several laps around the house in the laundry basket.
Ah, the joys of life with children...

Hamper Baby

Since arriving at Grandpa Jack and Grandma Carla's house,

the weather has taken a turn for the worse.

Well, I suppose that is actually a matter of opinion...

I am not sure Orin minds being cooped up inside all that much.

After all, there is so much to do in a new place,

especially in a house that is far from baby-proofed.

There are phone calls to be made,

baskets to hide in,

cat doors to attempt to escape through,

brief cases to steal

(and then dance on),

and foot stools to climb in.

(Here is the stool pre-baby...

I don't think I will ever know where the idea to flip

this over and climb in it came from, but that's how I found
him when I came around the corner)

My favorite stunt of Orin's so far involved him

placing both his soccer ball and a tupperware lid

in the washing machine, closing the door,
and then pressing the "on" button.

(He did this all by himself, I am not making this up)

When he is not getting into trouble,

he has been spending a lot of time

playing a new game in which I get to push a laundry hamper

around the house again and again as fast as possible

while he screeches with delight.

Orin can't get enough of it.

I think it's fun the first 16 times,

then, not so much.

Every once in a while we get a break in the clouds

that allows us to venture out to the pool

where Ori amuses himself by throwing rocks into the water.

But the sun never lasts long and soon we are back inside

and back to the laundry hamper.

High five that.

A Passion for Stairs

One of the highlights of this vacation for Orin has been

the countless opportunities he has been presented

with to satiate his unending appetite for stair-climbing.

As his mother, I can assure you, there is hardly

an activity that Ori is more fond of.

In fact, I worry that if we left him alone near a stairwell,

he might never choose to stop climbing.

He has been obsessed with stairs ever since his first climb,

but his love has been thwarted at home

by the presence of a permanent baby gate.

On the road, however, there are no gates to slow him down,

leaving Orin free to tackle one set of stairs after another,

while I succumb to spending half of my day

creeping behind a rapidly ascending baby,

arms outstretched...

Thank goodness for gates.

Leaving Andover

The rest of our time in Eastern Mass went by in a blur.

Casey flew home on Monday, leaving Orin and I to a couple days

alone with Grandma Elisabeth and Grandpa Dean.

During the daytime, Orin got to run around my mother's library

and play at the local playground,

(Orin's new favorite thing is the slide,

thanks to his Uncle Matthew)

and at night we ate popsicles and watched the RedSox

The only trouble with the trip (besides the RedSox losing repeatedly)

was that it went by too fast.

But, these crash-course vacations are certainly getting familiar,

so I wasn't surprised when Wednesday rolled around and

we were on the move again, this time to Grandpa Jacks.