kandas-adventures

Pond Boats -- An Expensive Hobby

Ever since Little K got a Playmobil set with a child and a pond boat, she's wanted her own model boat.  Lucky for us, the Center for Wooden Boats in Seattle has a pond just for this purpose, and according to their website, every weekend they rent out boats for people to try.  Before investing in a pond boat I wanted Little K to try it first.  My hope was that she would satisfy her curiosity and move on to something else.

 

When we arrived that chilly first Saturday in January, the Pond was filled with boats, but it was a private club having a regatta.  When we inquired at the Center for Wooden Boats, they admitted that their website was not up to date, and that the pond boating that was supposed to happen from 11am - 2pm each weekend was no longer happening, at least not until April.  Little K was bitterly disappointed, and I gave them an earful for stating on their website that it happened EVERY weekend, year-round.  They gave us a coupon to come back another time and rent one of their real boats for an hour, which helped perk up Little K.

We went back to the pond to watch the competition.  We tried to make conversation with a few of the boaters, but it quickly became clear that they were in the midst of a very competitive race and were not in the mood for chatting.  My dad got a business card from one of them, but that was it.

Some of the pond boaters had waterproof "muffs" in which to operate their remote controls.  The boats don't have engines, they have remote controlled gears attached to rigging that pulls the sails in different directions to catch the wind.  The boats are about 30" long and 5 feet tall factoring in mast and keel.  Most pondboaters lovingly build their own boat, which takes about 50 hours using specialized tools, and several hundred dollars worth of materials.  Too get an idea for how intense this process is, you can look at this.

The boats had to follow a timed course around buoys, and scores were posted on a whiteboard.

The pond boaters were all white men, middle age to elderly.

Every once and awhile the wind whipped up and boats tipped wildly, sometimes colliding with others.

The ducks seemed unfazed by the activity in what they thought was their pond.

Little K never got her hands on a remote control and didn't experience pond boating they way we'd hoped.  We'll be back in April in hopes of participating in the hands-on sailing demonstration, assuming the Center for Wooden Boats actually starts it up again.  I have mixed feelings about Little K taking this up as a hobby.  It will be expensive, so she'll need to be really committed to it, so it will probably be something we make her use her own money toward.

Birdwatching at Brightwater Sewage Treatment Plant

You may remember when we visited Brightwater Sewage Treatment Plant at its grand opening celebration back in the fall of 2011.  In addition to the treatment plant, they built a beautiful educational center and miles of hiking trails.  This was our first time coming for a Saturday workshop, hosted by our favorite outdoor education organization, Islandwood.

Today it was "Birds of Feather" birdwatching.

After a brief lecture indoors, we headed out equiped with binoculars and bird ID sheets.

As you can see, it was below freezing.  We were in the 8th day near constant below freezing temps, an unusual cold spell for our area.  Usually it warms to the high 30's or mid- 40's during the day in January.

The group leader pointed out bird nests in the deciduous trees.  Because we had some young children along who weren't consistently quiet, we didn't see many birds.  We basically saw the usual: mallard ducks, chickadees, sparrows, red-wing blackbirds, and a great blue heron.

After a short hike into the woods to look at woodpecker holes in snags, we returned to the education center for a craft and hot cocoa.

 

When the event ended at noon the girls and I went off on the trails by ourselves.

We saw a few more birds, but none of the other wildlife we were hoping for.  There were a lot of people out walking their dogs on the trails, so the coyotes, bobcat, squirrels, deer, and other wild animals stayed hidden.

Although it is about a 45 minute drive to Brightwater, we always enjoy our time there.  I signed up Little K for a week of summer camp there, so we're looking forward to exploring more of the trails in the summer months.

Seattle's New Museum of History and Industry (MOHAI)

Because of a proposed highway expansion, the Museum of History and Industry in Seattle has moved from its old location near the University of Washington to the old Naval Reserve Armory on the shore of Lake Union near downtown Seattle.

Since they opened less than a month ago, I've gone 3 times: once with each of my parents, and once with my husband and friends.   It was fun to hear my parents' recollections about Seattle history prompted by the wonderful exhibits.  My dad graduated from high school in Seattle in the 1950's, and my mom came to Seattle in 1964.  

When I first entered the museum I felt there "wasn't much to see" because it appeared to be just a big open space.  Looks can be deceiving...  

The second level contains the main exhibit in a maze of rooms connected to a circular balcony.  The MOHAI website best describes what can be found there:

"True Northwest: The Seattle Journey explores some of the trials and tribulations of Seattle on its long and bumpy journey from wilderness to world city.

"Visitors stroll through twenty five different "snapshots" of the city through the years, each with a unique display of artifacts, images, and multimedia. Interspersed througout the exhibit are one-of-a-kind interactive experiences, such as the Great Fire Theater and the Canwell Trials reenactment, that let visitors truly immerse themselves in the lives and stories of our past." 

 

The fourth floor contains one room dedicated to local maritime history.  I was grateful that the popular periscope made the move from the old location to this new one.  

Look out the windows and you might see...

A Native American paddling a hand-carved canoe...

Or the more typical boat and float-plane traffic.

Little K looks down from the 4th floor Maritime History room.

The girls and me in front of a beautiful photo-mural of Mt. Rainier on the 2nd floor.


My dad and the girls on the stairs.  After my dad's visit he said he "needed a nap."  My mom needed a wheelchair.  And my husband could hardly walk the next couple days after his visit (well, he did just have knee replacement surgery).  The girls and me?  We didn't get enough, and can't wait to go back for more!

If you live in Seattle, or are visiting Seattle, I highly recommend a visit to MOHAI.  It's an amazing place, with something for everyone, including the very young (there's even a great playroom for the littlest ones).

Christmas 2012

I took the girls and my mom to my brother and sister-in-law's house on Sunday the 23rd to have our "little cousins Christmas."  My sister-in-law was going through her first holiday season without her mother (who died of heart failure last August), so they were going to be leaving town for most of the Christmas break, to get away from the memories and old traditions.

K and A baked cookies while 3 year old Sarah and 5 year old Andrew gathered around Grammy's laptop to look at an animated advent calendar.

All 4 kids enthusastically participated when the cookies came out of the oven and were ready for decorating -- and of course, EATING.

My nephew Andrew is into Legos now, and was fully engaged in putting together (and taking apart) little Lego vehicles.  My brother is re-living his childhood through his children as I do with mine, though for us the toys are now more fun, and the fact that we're both able to provide our own kids with an intact family is a blessing not lost on us.  For my brother and me, our childhood Christmases were tinged with despair over our absent father, even though our mother, grandmother, aunt and uncle did everything they could to make the holidays joyous for us.

Here's my brother, 40 years old, and obviously related to me as you can tell by the blissed-out cat in his lap.  

Later that day we had a present exchange at our house with friends and neighbors.

This is K's best friend and honorary "Little Sister."  They are together as often as possible.  Our former foster kitten, Mumu, is happily lounging beside the girls, despite all the flying wrapping paper and excited squealing going on.  Mumu has turned out to be a great kitty, and I'm so glad that we decided to keep her.  (Last year "keeping Mumu" was at the top of Little K's Christmas wish list, and Santa came through!).

On Christmas Eve day big sister joined us briefly for a present exchange.  Above you can see the odd set-up while my husband recovers from his knee replacement surgery (2 weeks earlier).   We took the twin bed from A's room and moved it downstairs, and there it is wedged between the couch and the kitchen table.  Our number one wish for our next house is to have a main floor bedroom, so as we age and endure future surgical recoveries, there is an accessible bedroom to retreat to.   At least in his current position he can't complain of being left out, although there are definitely times he'd like us to go away and be more quiet.

Daddy and his 3 daughters (plus one of 3 cats).

The girls play Ticket to Ride India.  We always look forward to big sister coming to visit so we can get in some serious board gaming.  This year we taught both girls to play the card game Hand & Foot, a version of Canasta.  The older the girls get, the more competitive strategy games we play.  I am SO HAPPY to be done with Candy Land and other games of chance.

On Christmas Eve Daddy stayed home to ice his knee and nap, while I took the girls and my mom to Aunt Ruth's farmhouse.  That's Ruth on Santa's Lap.  "Santa" is Ruth's 19 year old grandson, in the plaid shirt is one of Ruth's 3 sons, and can you believe that Ruth is nearing 80 years old?  She still throws a wild party, and despite each years' threat that "This will be the last," the parties seem to get bigger each year.  This year the little house was packed with about 30 people.

A big deal is made about giving Santa a kiss, and the drama is especially pronounced now that there are all these teenage girl cousins having to kiss the 19 year old boy cousin dressed as Santa.  It's such a different dynamic from when they were wary toddlers and Santa was an eerily familiar uncle.  They all know who he is under there, and put on quite the show pretending they don't know it's really him.  (Just imagine that annoying song, "Santa Baby," and you'll get the idea of how some of the girls approach "Santa").  The parents in the room egg on the kids with "The better the kiss, the better the presents you'll find under the tree tomorrow!" 

 This year the most amorous kiss actually came from Santa's younger teenage brother, who really got into the acting, and nearly knocked Santa backwards out of his chair.

K and A weren't quite so forward with their affections, but Santa did receive the mandatory peck on the cheek from them both.

While the grown ups caught up in conversation, the kids returned to play in the attic.  My they have grown... they can barely stand up in there anymore.

For the first time ever, we were the first to leave the party, well before 9pm.  I had to drop my mother at her house, and then hurry home to my husband, who was left behind, alone in bed with his swollen knee.  

K was the first one awake on Christmas morning -- at 9am!   She opened her stocking at breakfast. 

Christmas Day we did something different this year.  Grammy went first to see my neice and nephew (pictured at the begining of this post) before they left town.  She had breakfast there and gave them their presents, then she came to our house around noon.  A and K had opened their stockings at breakfast, but waited until Grammy to arrive before opening any other presents.  Grammy enjoys watching the girls open their gifts, not just from her, but from everyone else as well.  It was no problem having the girls wait for Grammy this year.  I've always had them "wait for Grammy to arrive" before opening presents, and a few more hours didn't make that much difference, especially since they both enjoy sleeping in now.

The girls got creative with their wrapping as well as their gift making this year.  K spent hours making a little needle-felted owl and nest with eggs for A.  A purchased gifts for K, but spent a lot of time illustrating the wrappings.

Last summer during our travels abroad my husband had wanted to get a flag from each of the countries we visited.  We were traveling so light, and my husband hates to shop, so we never bought any.  Back home, I went to the Nordic Heritage Museum in Seattle and was able to get him a flag for each of the Nordic countries we visited, so that is one of the gifts I gave him for Christmas!

Here are the girls with some of their presents.  On their feet are slippers that my cousin knit for them.  K got a toy doll sled, some books, including a Shutterfly memory book I made about her school camp, a puzzle, paper dolls, a little sleeping bag for her monkey, a video game she's holding, and a few other little things.  A got a card shuffler, 3 sweaters, a swim cover-up, a paper craft book, a puzzle, and a razor kit for shaving!  Both girls got Girl Scout tin banks, a few pairs of socks, and ornaments I bought for them at the post office in Iceland.  It was the "leanest" Christmas yet, and quite a few of their gifts came from thrift stores (shh, don't tell them!).  It was my goal to keep it simple and to spend less than $50.00 for each of them, and I'm sure I succeeded.

One of the things the girls look forward to each Christmas is the quarters and dimes they receive in these little paperboard cards from my childhood.  My mom has several of these in different styles, that the banks used to give out during the holidays in the 1960's and 70's to encourage children to save money.  After the girls transfer the coins to their coin banks, they give the cards back to my mom, and she takes them home to save and use the next year.

 

It was a truly laid-back Christmas this year.  With my husband not feeling well after his surgery there was no pressure to go anywhere or entertain a house full of people.  Lunch was ham sandwiches, and I'm ashamed to admit, dinner was pizza from the freezer!  Of course I steamed up fresh vegetables, and sliced up apples, but it certainly wasn't the abundant gourmet spread most people have on Christmas day.  Above, the girls play "Mexican Train Dominoes" with Grammy while Daddy relaxes in his bed beside the kitchen table.

As Grammy left around 10:00pm, we stepped outside and opened our Christmas crackers.  It was only then that I realized the girls never even got dressed that day!  All they had to do was brush their teeth and head to bed.  It was a good Christmas.

Holiday Happenings 2012

Santa was bringing Daddy a new knee for Christmas, so we tried to pack as many festivities in early in the month, before he went off to the hospital.  Then when he got home and I was his caregiver, I was only able to leave him briefly a few times to get the girls out for some events they didn't want to miss.  I didn't think I'd accomplished much, but looking back while finding photos for this post, it looks like I was pretty busy afterall!

1. Scandinavian Christmas & Lucia

 

Just A and I went to the Scandinavian Christmas celebration at the Nordic Heritage Museum this year.  Little K was off with her friend, and Daddy had to go to the office, in preparation for being out on medical leave for a month.

The kids in their nordic costumes were adorable.

 

2. Swedish Hospital Celebration and Santa

 

Decorate the giant gingerbread house!

Annual Santa photo.  I stood in line for 45 minutes, while the girls circulated around craft tables, and I'm glad I did, as this was the only Santa visit this year.

 

3. Snowflake Lane

Annual tradition at a nearby shopping mall.  It is done every night at 7pm from the day after Thanksgiving until Christmas eve, and every night it is packed solid with people.  Word has gotten out and now people come from miles away to participate.

Soap-bubble blowers mounted to the rooftops blow out clouds of "snow."

Live and recorded music.  K's favorite are these drummers.  On other little stages around the area are dancers and other performers.

 

4. Girl Scout Leaders and Daughters Party

 

5. Singing at the Nursing Home

 

6. Picking out our Christmas Tree

 

7. Lucia Celebration with Family

This year K was the reader.

A had her turn as head Lucia and got to wear the crown this year.  She had been looking forward to this for years, but when the moment came and the crown was too tight and cut into her forhead, she almost backed out of the honor.

8. Setting up Playmobil Christmas Village

 

9. Gathering friends

 

10. A bit of snow to get us in the spirit

 

11. Attending a "Nutcracker" ballet

A's friend from school had the lead role of "Clara."  At 12 years old she was dancing with a stunningly well developed danseur.  Let's just say that eyes were not always on the dancing.

 

12. Going to church to see the Live Nativity

To attone for our sins (of wandering eyes at the ballet), we attended the local church, enjoying the "live nativity."

All and all it was a good lead up to Christmas this year, even though my husband was sidelined for part of it.

Tragedy and the Sensitive Soul

I see this face on Little K too often, and it breaks my heart.

Friday's school shooting in Connecticut happened while my children were still at school.  I heard about it on the radio when I was on my way to the hospital to pick up my husband who was being discharged after a knee replacement surgery just 3 days earlier.  On the way home I told my husband that we shouldn't have the TV on at all.  He's an avid TV news watcher, but he agreed.

When the kids arrived home from school they appeared not to have heard the news.  I kept them off the computer and away from the TV.  Late at night when they were in bed I went to the internet for advice on how to talk to them about this.  On Saturday I kept them engaged in helping me care for their dad and playing board games.  By Sunday it was time.  I had to tell them something, so they wouldn't hear it first from friends at school on Monday.

As I expected, Little K broke down.  I did my best to describe the event simply, omitting much of the details, and emphasising that she was safe and that changes were likely to be made so that it would never happen to her.  I reminded her that the world is filled with many more good people than those who want to do harm.  That hundreds of people died that same day of illness, car accidents, and old age, and although we don't understand why things like this happen, God knows and is always with us. I even went so far as to say that the shooter was mentally ill, and perhaps didn't even know what he was doing (though personally I suspect otherwise).  

Little K has a very sensitive soul.  She cares deeply, and has enormous empathy for others.  As I tried to console her, she said she wasn't so scared about herself being harmed, she was more terrified about having to witness someone else being hurt, watching others in pain.  She said that if she ever had to see someone die, she would go live alone in the forest so she never had to see people hurt each other again.

Her fear is not new.  She has no tolerance for violence of any kind, and gets very upset if she sees someone at school being teased.  Images of suffering are seared into her brain from accidental glances at solicitations from charities that come in the mail, TV commercials with graphic previews for violent movies, photos in the "Time for Kids" news magazine she is forced to read in school.  Because of this she refuses to see any films in a theater, will only watch PBS or a few other channels that don't have "bad commercials," and avoids newspapers and magazines.  

Sunday night she had trouble going to sleep.  In fact, she was up until 11:00pm crying, hysterical at times.  It was heartbreaking for me.  I prayed silently to myself, "Please, God, spare this girl knowledge of the horrors of the world."  I let her sleep beside me, as my husband was downstairs in a twin bed anyway, unable to climb stairs yet on his new knee.

Monday morning early I emailed Little K's teacher to let her know that K was having a hard time.  The school principal then called me half an hour before school started, and we planned that if K was feeling scared, she could tell her teacher she felt sick and needed to go to the nurse's office, and once there, the principal would come talk with her and help her.  That made K feel so much better, and I was able to get her off the floor where she had disolved, and up and out the door to school.  

I am so grateful that my daughters attend schools with truly loving, supportive staff.  I know that every single one of their teachers as well as the other staff would give their own lives to save their students, just as the staff at Sandy Hook did.  I feel no fear in sending my children off to school.

What I do fear is how we can help the future shooters, many of whom are young boys right now.  There are several boys in my daughter's schools that I worry about.  On Thursday night, before the tragedy, I was at our local elementary watching a winter concert.  On stage was a boy I'll call "Z," who is now 11, but I've known since he was 5.  Surrounded by nearly 100 other children who were belting out holiday songs, he stood stiffly, silently.  He did not sing, he did not sway.  He glared out at the audience, seething at having to be up there against his will.  I've volunteered a lot in the classroom through the years, and during second grade I tutored this boy each week, trying to help him learn to read, write, and spell.  Often during our sessions he would just ignore me.  He'd put his head down on the desk and cover his ears. Interacting with people was unbearable for him.  The teachers knew about this.  He was seeing a counselor.  His parents were concerned and aware.  

There is another boy who is now in 7th grade, whom I'll call "X."  From the time he was in kindergarten, he doodled during class.  His drawings were always the same: mutilated body parts, guns, explosions of blood and guts.  His face was often blank, expressionless.  He was undergoing a horrible situation -- watching his mother die slowly of an incurable illness.  Eventually his mother died.  Everyone who knew the family, which was most of the school, rallied around to help, but X sank even further.  Years passed. X was in 5th grade the first time I saw him smile, ever so briefly.  I was hopeful for him.  He was getting an abundance of help from school, from counselors.  Maybe he would be OK.  I've seen him a couple of times at the middle school.  He looks sullen, and is often alone.

Middle school is Hell for most kids, but particularly damaging for those who have mental illness or deep emotional issues.  I question our push to mainstream children with these challenges into the chaos and social cruelty of crowded classrooms.  Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be kinder to allow these kids to retreat, providing them with quiet places to read, listen to music, and get their education through online programming or tutoring.  Continue to provide supportive adults and professional help, but forget "throwing them to the wolves," expecting them to find their way among kids who tease or reject them.  

We don't take paraplegics to marathons every weekend and tell them to just get out of their chairs and run, so why should we send teens with Asperger's or other mental health issues to big schools and expect them to succeed, let alone cope?  Sometimes I think more scars are laid down, and more hatred is kindled, in our quest to force emotionally fragile kids to integrate.

Little K is acutely aware of those at school who are suffering, and she has always been good about reaching out to comfort or defend them.  I reminded her that although she is scared of witnessing violence, she is brave in a way that most kids aren't, in her ability to step forward and help others.  She said that of course she had to help -- how could she not?

I don't know what the future holds for K.  She has enormous compassion and depth of feeling.  She could do great things in the world helping others, if she can get past the heartbreak.  I'll do everything I can to help her grow strong and hope that her fears do not consume her.

This is terrible to admit, but I don't worry so much about my children, as I do about those lost souls who are living on the edge, some this very moment fantasizing about enacting their own rampage.  Pray for them, that when kindness crosses their path, they are able to soak it in, and when adversity strikes, they are able to cope and move on.

Cider Pressing

Last spring I sat on my hands when it came to gardening because I was planning our summer in Europe and didn't want to burden the housesitter with watering a vegetable garden in our absence.  I also neglected to thin the fruit trees.  With apple trees, if you don't thin, you end up with an abundance of tiny apples.

For a few weeks we made gallons of applesauce, but peeling, coring, and slicing all those tiny apples was lots of work.  Making applesauce is so much easier with large apples!  By early November we still had bushels and bushels of little apples crying out to be consumed.  One of our neighbors has a 100 year old cider press they were willing to let us use, so for the first time we pressed cider with our apples.  Before we hauled our apples over to their house, we washed and sorted all those apples -- probably 800 or more of them.

Spartan and Braeburn apples are really good for cider!  Nice and tart, and plenty juicy.  

We didn't peel or core them, but any "bad spots" were cut out just before they went in the grinder.  We tossed out any bruised or wormy apples, using only sound apples.   The press had an "apple eater" grinder on top that was operated with a handcrank.  From there the ground apples landed into a mesh-lined slatted wooden bucket below.   

When the wooden bucket was full, the mesh bag was twisted shut, and the bucket was slid foward to the screw press, and cider then drained into an enamel bucket below.

Since we didn't core, peel, or add citric acid (lemon juice), the cider was rich and dark.  We got 11 gallons (not including what we drank while pressing!), which surprised us since the apples were so small.  We left some of the cider with our friends in thanks for letting us use their press, which is a big deal because it is a pain to clean afterwards, and the rest we put directly into our chest freezer.  

Of course we left a few dozen apples on the trees for our deer friends!

Happy Halloween!

We always like to "trick" the trick or treaters (and their parents) by giving out kittens instead of candy. Being a Humane Society Foster Parent, I always seem to have a litter of kittens on hand for this little trick each Halloween.  Some of the parents look truly horror-stricken, until we take the kitten back and offer the candy.

Farewell Fall City Farms

Our favorite farmers are retiring. This is how we feel about it:

That's right, we feel like crying.  It's sad when a family farm goes out of business, but if anyone deserves a restful retirement, it's hardworking farmers.  It's just a crying shame that no one (so far) is stepping in to continue farming the land.  Being a farmer is not without enormous struggles.  Below you can see a news segment from a few years ago featuring our favorite farmers, after a devastating flood that not only took away all their topsoil and replaced with with rocky river silt, but killed their beloved farm animals as well.  I'm surprised they didn't just throw in the towel back then.

 

Here's a look back at K and A enjoying Fall City Farms through the years:

2000

A's first time picking out a pumpkin.  Of course she goes for the largest.  (We went home with a bunch of smaller ones).  It was pouring rain on this very first visit for A, but she didn't mind.

In addition to pumpkins, we get our Christmas trees from Fall City Farms as well.

2001

K was just a few weeks old when I took this picture of A and the tiny pumpkin she'd picked.  I was glad she was focused on small ones, because I had K strapped to my front in a carrier and I couldn't have carried a big pumpkin, too.

2002

This year K moved from my front to a perch on my back.  We handed her this little white gourd and she clutched it for over an hour, so of course it had to come home with us.  In the photo K is flicking her tongue at A, a phase she went through while teething.

2003

This year K prefers to catch a ride in the Carry-all with the pumpkins, while A races around the field and loads up on as many pumpkins as she can carry.

2004

This year we institute the "pick any pumpkin, as long as you can carry it" rule.

2005

The girls enjoy a tractor ride through the fields.

The vintage tractors are out every year, sometimes in a pile of hay, sometimes in a mound of dirt.  This year there were actual sandboxes dedicated to their use!

2006

This visit produced a hailstorm the likes of which the girls had never seen or experienced.  

2007

Gourd shopping!

2008

There had been good rain this summer, so the field was really lush and green.

2009

We zipped over to the farm after A had a soccer game nearby.

2010

 

The haymaze is too simple for the girls, but that doesn't prevent them from doing a few run-throughs.

2011

I visited the farm several times last year but failed to photograph the pumpkin selection process!  This photo is courtesy of my neighbor, who took K and S to the farm one afternoon.

 

2012

An overly wet spring was followed by recordbreaking drought which had killed off all the pumpkin vines by September.

Stocking up.  We'll fill our freezer with gallons and gallons of Fall City cider.

Here's what we'll miss most:

Sweet Corn in September

Massive mud puddles which are great for swimming.  ("I didn't push her, she fell!")

Apple cider fresh from the press

Donuts hot from the donut machine.

Good times with good friends.

Hugs from our favorite farmers, Rob and Debbie Arenth of Fall City Farms.

Thanks for the wonderful memories!  We'll miss you.

11th Birthday Pioneer Party

K is obsessed with pioneers and life in the 1800's.  She's read through most of the Little House on the Prairie series, and took particular interest in all the open-air history museums we visited this past summer in Europe.  K requested a "Pioneer Party" for her birthday this year.

I'm not sure what possessed me, but in the weeks prior to the party I thought it a fine time to teach little K to sew.  She'd been begging to learn how to use my sewing machine for years, so together we made 10 aprons, so each girl could choose an apron to wear for the party and take home.  I only had to buy a couple yards of fabric, because I had plenty on hand from previous, long-ago sewing projects.  It was good to make a dent in my stash, and also fun to see those prints again that I had used 13 years ago to make baby clothes, bibs, and bedding with.  In the process of making these aprons K also learned how to use an iron, and somehow we managed to break my old sewing machine (thankfully on the LAST apron).  Now I need to decide if I should put $200.00 into repairing it, or just get a new modern machine that has dozens of fancy stitches and is much easier to use.  

K's best friend and her dad also helped prep for the party by spending an afternoon bringing K's idea of a covered wagon to life.

Throughout the room I set up "stations" with various toys and crafts.  Here we have wood puzzles, building blocks, marble maze blocks, wood colored pencils and paper, and at the last minute K added buttons that she'd been collecting, to which she'll add string to make "button strings."  We'll get rid of that 20th century plastic bag!

More wooden toys and puzzles.  The wooden "village" is from Germany and is probably 60 years old.  The ball-in-cup game K bought at an open air history museum in Denmark this past summer.

Toss the ring onto the bottles.  

Cross stitch & embroidery

Rag doll making

As the girls arrived they settled in to an old-fashioned game of marbles.

Many hands helped with braiding of the hair for the rag dolls.

I thought wide-woven cloth would be good for cross stitching, but rigid mesh would have been better for these beginners.  They tended to pull the stitches too tight, bunching the fabric.

My mom brought an old fashioned apple peeler-slicer which all the girls had a turn at using.  We made quick work of about a dozen Honeycrisp apples picked fresh from my beloved tree out back.

 

I poured cream into canning jars with lids screwed on tightly, and the girls shook them (and danced with them) until the cream became butter.

They had cider to drink out of canning jars as well.  Different colored yarns tied onto the jars helped them identify their own.

Instead of a traditional cake, we had snacks and pastry.  Homemade applesauce, sliced apples, pumpkin bread, apple turnovers, apple cranberry gallette, coffee cake, and bread to go with that fresh butter.

I found this great prairie dress for myself at a thrift store for $3.99.  Eight girls was the perfect number for this little party.

We had an outdoor egg hunt toward the end of the party, while waiting for parents to come pick up their girls.  It was a great party and Little K was thoroughly delighted.