Wyatt Volunteers. Be Like Wyatt.

A couple of months ago, Wyatt and I worked one of the Presidio Planting Days. it was incredibly satisfying to plant native species we had helped grow, and it was also fun doing work in a construction zone with other people! During our shift, a well-meaning dad (based on our observations, it’s possible he insisted that his somewhat reluctant family join him at planting day) asked Wyatt if this was his first time volunteering. Wyatt looked him squarely in the eye and said firmly, “No. I’ve been volunteering half my life.” The dad looked at me, unsure what to think, so I gave him more words. Something along the lines of, “Yeah, you know, we volunteer at the Presidio Nursery, and we started when he was 5 and now he’s 10, so ….”

I can’t even believe it has been half his life. Or 5 years.

Yesterday, the absolutely wonderful Presidio Nursery Staff (two of whom are pictured here) awarded Wyatt his 5-year anniversary pin for volunteering. They considered forming the R in “Spring,” but then settled on this modified podium pose.

And Wyatt is also featured in this month’s Golden Gate National Parks Conservancy newsletter.

Feeling inspired to get out there and support the parks? You can find a lot of local opportunities here.

Recology Tour

What was I talking about before I headed off on a summer tangent? Oh, that’s right—trash. I have more to say about trash.

Since Wyatt was tiny and we did our Spring Break Factory Tours, he has wanted to tour Recology. Recology describes itself as “an integrated resource recovery company providing compost, recycling and disposal services to homes and businesses in the Western United States.” To us, it’s where Cam, the guy who picks up our landfill/recycling/compost, works. It’s where artists in residence create the work they present to the community. And it’s the place we affectionately call the dump. When I was setting up our tours that spring, I called Recology and learned that they required all tour participants to be 3rd grade or older—8 or 9 years old. So we began our first age-milestone-countdown. And you can bet we were on the first tour that was available after Wyatt’s 8th birthday.

Recology offers tours of their facility on Tunnel Avenue on Saturdays and Wednesdays. Tours of Pier 96, where they actually sort everything, are offered only on Wednesdays, so we of course booked a Wednesday tour (after getting permission for Wyatt to miss school that day).

Part of artist Alicia Escott’s exhibit earlier this year.

I don’t have many photos—tour rules require you to watch where you’re walking and keep your phones put away. To see the work they do there—to begin to grasp the manual and computerized state-of-the-art sorting they accomplish and fathom how much trash we produce on a daily basis —you’ll need to make a reservation and go on a tour yourself. It’s an astonishingly good way to spend a Wednesday morning. Even though we were already working towards minimizing waste, this tour made us more acutely aware of the problems of waste, especially plastics. (Just a heads up, it is particularly demoralizing to go grocery shopping right after this tour.) Since the tour, I’ve become far more vocal and proactive in contacting companies about their choice of packaging. Maybe you will notice a shift in your outlook and behaviors, too.

The tour starts in the learning center with a short video about how Recology works. After the video, there’s a question and answer session, and the learning specialists are amazing. One of the men on our tour had brought a bag of all the trash he was unsure about—was it to be recycled? Or was it destined for landfill? He asked about every single piece, even after the educators gave us the general rules about how to think about what goes where. And they answered all his questions. Recology is truly on a mission to educate. Some tour participants asked where internationally Recology sells and sends its recycling (they’re not telling). After having walked through the sorting facility at Pier 96, all of us on the tour had begun to really grasp how recycling is way better than not recycling, but because plastics basically live forever and cause so much pollution, recycling isn’t really a long term solution to our trash problem.

Here are the notes I took during the question and answer session in the learning center, and after the tour at Pier 96:

Every day in San Francisco, Recology picks up 650 tons of recyclables, 700 tons of compost and 1200 tons of black bin “londfill,” 60% of which is recyclable (note: we all need to get way better at sorting our trash).

Recycling/Blue Bin: Clean paper, glass, hard plastic, cans, coffee cups, milk containers.

STOP WISH-CYCLING: Wish-cycling is where you say to yourself, “This is totally recyclable!” and stick it in the blue bin, sometimes without really thinking, and sometimes just to make yourself feel better, hoping that it actually is recyclable. The reality is that when you put non-recyclable things into the recycling stream, it “pollutes” the recyclables—making things that would have been recyclable too dirty to be recycled. Consider a piece of cling film full of gooey food that then gets all over the previously clean paper in the recycling bin. Now that paper can’t be recycled. Wish-cycling is a problem.

Compost/Green Bin: Food, soiled paper, garden clippings

“Biodegradable/Plant Friendly” language on packaging does NOT mean it is compostable. That kind of wording is nonsense marketing language. Check if the packaging says “compostable.” If it does, then it is. Cardboard coffee cups and milk cartons are actually coated in a thin layer of plastic, so they will NOT compost. That’s why they go in the blue bin.

Black Bin: Everything else. Especially things like strings and things that could get caught in the sorting equipment. Chip bags, loose or dirty bags, all that stuff goes here.

If you take your stuff to the dump (like I did, during spring cleaning), you’ll notice there’s a special section for things that can be reused, repurposed, or reimagined into art. In addition to running the art program, Recology also works with the St. Vincent De Paul organization to reuse items that are still good. A lot of the things I brought to the dump ended up in this area.

Here are some photos from the most recent Recology Artists In Residence (AIR) Exhibit. The next show is the weekend of September 20, 2019.

We Served, Despite the Shutdown

There’s a lot of work to do everywhere in this country, and it felt so good to get some of it done today .

Marc, Wyatt and I were three of the 40 lucky people who got to volunteer today on this National Day of Service in honor of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. We were signed-up to work in the Presidio, which receives its funding from sources other than the federal government, so our project could go forward. The 660-ish people who had registered to work in other parts of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area were told their day of service was canceled, courtesy of the government shutdown.

We worked in an area of Fort Scott with 23 other volunteers. Together, we moved a dump truck full of soil into wheelbarrows, down the hill, and into raised beds. We sheet mulched areas around the greenhouse. We pulled bags and buckets of weeds, and we moved the compost pile (which, as it turns out, was also a multi-story dwelling for some voles) into wheelbarrows and then into another dump truck so it could be transported to the compost yard. Wyatt did some mowing.

Our group, which included several wonderfully industrious children, did an astonishing amount of work this morning. While we worked, we met new friends, including a family who had recently moved to San Francisco from Kansas. Wyatt and I also caught up with some of our fellow regular volunteers.

Imagine all the projects those 660 other volunteers (and the thousands of others nationwide) would have accomplished today had the presidential temper tantrum not interfered. Lost volunteer work is a very small consequence compared to what federal workers are dealing with, including the inability to pay rent or buy food because they haven’t been paid for a month, but it’s a consequence nevertheless.

When we finished our work, we all gathered together and reported on our progress. As part of our closing circle, the kids read suggestions about what change they wanted to see in the future. Ideas included: Make things fair for everyone, no fighting, use less plastic, especially plastic water bottles, and make everything out of chocolate. (Dream big.) Lunch was pupusas, rice, beans, salad, and plantains from Express Liquor & Pupuseria. I know I’ve mentioned before how good their food is, so consider this a reminder to go there and taste it for yourself.

Regardless of how you spent your MLK Day, I hope in 2019, we all find ways to be do-ers. Let’s be people who are making the changes we want to see in the world. Thinking and talking are fine, but they’re not enough. We can think and talk while we’re working to make things fair for everyone (or perfecting a recipe for architectural chocolate).

The Lucky Mouse

This is the luckiest mouse you have seen in a long time. Trust me. Also, as Wyatt said, “I had no idea dad was so good at catching mice under glass bowls!”

Last night, I spied a mouse slinking along an upstairs wall. So I set 80 million traps. This morning, Wyatt came running to me as I was getting out of bed, saying with what sounded like fake urgency, THERE’S A MOUSE IN MY ROOM. And I was like stop messing with me. But he was serious and terrified because the mouse had, in a very unmousy way, sat against the wall and stared him down!

The big scary mouse was hiding behind the waste paper basket when I investigated, and I tried to corner it with spring traps. We left the room and when we came back, the big scary mouse had moved, and not into a trap. I spotted it under the bed, but NOW WHAT?

I got a broom. And a bucket. But the bucket was too tall. So I also got a bowl. And cheese. To lure it out. Then, I was afraid to take my eye off it to get a good angle to make a move with the bowl. Or the broom? I couldn’t decide.

Marc eventually came downstairs, shook his head at my arsenal, grabbed the bowl, walked to the other end of the bed, and lobbed the bowl over the creature, LIKE THIS WAS A NORMAL THING. Then, he slid some cardboard under the bowl, put on his jacket, and carried the now much less ferocious looking mouse to the far end of the park.

I asked how many mice he has caught like that. He said, “More than one.”

Touché.

Star of the Week

Look who’s turn it was to be Star of the Week in his classroom!

Each kid gets a turn, and they need to make a poster of photos and talk to the class about their heritage or a family tradition. Fortunately, it’s also ok just to share about something that they like or is important to them. After all, the point of this exercise is to give everyone practice giving a presentation in front of a group,

Wyatt decided that he wanted to talk about his work in the Presidio Native Plant Nursery and the secret garden.

I don’t know if this happens to you, too, but when I’m caught up in the day to day of parenting and life, I don’t take time to reflect on where we’ve been, what we’ve done, and what progress we’ve made. Honestly, I usually only review photos after a trip, and only then if I’m making a book of them. Reviewing photos from the last two years of volunteer work was pretty astonishing. Cutting the set down to a reasonable number for the poster was really challenging, too.

Wyatt and I have learned and done a lot since our first session where we scrubbed pots the whole time. We’ve helped to build a greenhouse, we’ve prepared soil, prepared for raised beds, rodent-proofed, pest-proofed, pruned, collected seeds, helped to banish phytopthora from key areas, weeded, mowed using our own power, watered, planted, replanted, labeled, cared for native plants, learned about endangered plants, swept, washed, dug out ditches, moved mulch, and so many other things. More than that, we’ve learned about and done all these things within a big caring community of employees, interns, and volunteers.

Here are some photos from nearly two years of volunteering with the Presidio Nursery—every photo we included in the poster and then some. We are so lucky to be part of a volunteer family doing so much meaningful work.

If you haven’t found your volunteer family yet, keep looking. You’ll be glad when you do.

To make the poster itself . . .

We made this gluten-free paste to glue the photos we printed to the posterboard. (We did half the recipe, and even that was way too much.)

We used wire cutters to trim the sticks Wyatt gathered.

We used Elmer’s glue to stick the sticks and the leaves, but the paste might have worked well, too.

The Gardens of Alcatraz

Even if you're not from the Bay Area, you've probably heard of Alcatraz. It was a federal prison that was for the "worst of the worst." Al Capone, among others, was held there.

Maybe you also know the importance of Alcatraz to the self-determination movement of indigenous people.

Perhaps you even know about how the Army was stationed there and its role during the Civil War.

But do you know about the gardens?

I'm betting you don't. But you should. And if you ever choose to go to Alcatraz, you need to plan your visit around a tour of the Gardens of Alcatraz. We learned about the tour from a fellow volunteer at the Presidio. If you're a volunteer with the Golden Gate National Parks, you can take advantage of all kinds of free learning opportunities, including special tours, here. Any member of the public can also attend a tour of the Alcatraz gardens (more information here).

Wyatt and I attended our tour with our friend, Susan. We took the staff boat over early in the morning, and it was amazing to watch the island begin to wake up. We learned more than any of us thought possible about the place (a rock, originally with no soil), the people who lived there (willingly or not), and the importance of nature to society and community.

Volunteers have been working steadily since 2003 to restore the gardens to what they were during the eras of the army and the federal prison. When the restoration program began, they had about 50 years of overgrowth to tame. Restoration continues, and thanks to a world-class composting program, volunteers help the island to make its own nutrient dense soil. Some of the original plants still thrive in the gardens, including a rose that at one time was thought to be extinct in the rest of the world. On our tour, we smelled at least four different kinds of bearded iris. The dahlias were dazzling.

The gardens are gorgeous and the bird population is astonishing. We watched Great Blue Herons tend to their young in huge nests in the tops of trees while a Night Heron rested on a branch nearby. We listened to the other-worldly sounds of the Snowy Egret colony and were amazed by the number of Cormorants on an unrestored part of the island. Gulls fed their chicks in nests nestled along garden paths.

When you're done with the garden tour, you can also tour the prison if you feel like checking it out.

And if you're looking for ways to contribute, you can also volunteer your time.

Homework: Sandal Making 101

As I mentioned in my earlier post, I took a sandal making class with Rachel Sees Snails Shoes. It was so fun, and my sandals are so cute, that Wyatt wanted to make a pair for himself. We used the notes and shopping list that Rachel provided to us in the workshop to make Wyatt's sandals.

We are not pros at making sandals. Not in the slightest. This fact will be obvious in so many ways to anyone who knows anything about making sandals and sees my photos. But we tried, we learned, and the project occupied a fair amount of time over spring break. Wyatt also has a pair of sandals that, while stiff to walk in, fit. So I'm calling this experiment a success.

If I made another pair, I'd choose a lighter weight sole, for sure. Or heavier leather for the straps. Except that the straps were from leather our shoemaking friends gave us, and honestly, their generosity should have driven the sole search (ha!) and purchase.

Also? I cannot overstate the importance of the saying, "The right tool for the right job." My goodness. If DIY projects have taught me anything, it's that specialization of individuals (or families) in different crafts was a good move for society. Tools and skill matter so much in craft, and I have a minimum of both when it comes to sandal making. I mean, I can cut thick leather with a utility knife, but the results are far from amazing.

We got many of our sandal making supplies from Baltor O & Sons, which is a 4th generation family owned business in South San Francisco. (See what I mean? Specialization!) It is an amazing warehouse that's full of everything you could ever need to make any kind of shoe. And nothing is labeled. Or priced in any way a customer like me can read. There are employees who can help you, but you're not why they came to work. They are there to do Other Things. That said, everyone there is extremely gracious when you speak up and ask for help, as we did at least 50 times. It served Wyatt and me well to be unfailingly polite while simultaneously owning our profound ignorance.

We got the rest of the supplies from our shoemaker friends. When you're making one pair of kids' sandals, you don't need a pound of shoe nails (assuming you could even figure out which type of nails in the Nails Aisle were the ones you needed to buy) or an entire hide of leather (outside of the scrap bin, leather is sold only by the hide).

Here's what we did.

We finished the sandals by going to our shoemaker friends who didn't judge us or our work even one time, and who evened out all my mistakes with their belt-sander-for-shoes. We paid them in jam, marmalade, and a modest Mitchell's ice cream celebration.

Cultivating Our Yes Brain

"So are we not going to volunteer today because of that government money thing?"

"Yes. It's Congress' job to pass—agree on—a budget, and they haven't done that. Now, lots of people who work for the federal government can't go to work and earn money to pay for things they need, like food, or where they live. And we can't volunteer if the workers won't be there to tell us what they need us to do. I'm not sure if anyone will be at the garden today."

People talk about the benefits of volunteering. Even the United States Government talks about it on this page. You can't read it today, though, because of the government shutdown. A cached description of the page says, "Perhaps the first and biggest benefit people get from volunteering is the satisfaction of incorporating service into their lives and making a difference in their community and country. The intangible benefits alone—such as pride, satisfaction, and accomplishment—are worthwhile reasons to serve. In addition, when we share ..." I'm dying to know what happens when we share whatever it is. Meanwhile, we can add to the list of benefits, "The opportunity to discuss with your children important issues surrounding a government shutdown."

Fortunately, the shutdown did not impact the national day of service on Martin Luther King Jr. Day. And no, that link doesn't work today, either. We spent last Monday working in a different corner of the Presidio than usual. It was a truly wonderful day. The team at the Presidio knows better than anyone how to welcome, inspire, and educate volunteers. Their opening and closing circles included a short discussion of the history of the day, the importance of service, and how we were part of a larger, nationwide volunteer effort. The educational tables near the volunteer check-in included games where you match bird calls and eggs with the birds that make them, and a bulletin board to add your suggestions about how to improve your community.

Wyatt, a few friends, and I were in the family-friendly working group of about 25 people of varying ages and abilities. We were the Banana Slugs, and the kids made sure we earned our team name by finding as many banana slugs as they could. We directed our questions about what to weed, prune, and gather for compost to the gardeners who work in the Presidio every day. The kids peppered delighted educators with countless questions about critters and plants. And we all worked together to fill the dump truck with debris more than twice.

The organizers provided bagels, coffee and juice for breakfast, as well as lunch. I remarked to one of the gardeners how thoughtful it was of them to provide lunch at the end of the program. He explained they had decided that if people spent the whole morning working for free, and the program ended at lunch time, it was only right to provide lunch. After all, there aren't a lot of lunch options up in the Presidio, and a lot of people can't afford them anyway. Organizers brought in vegetarian and meaty pupusas and tamales along with plenty of curtido from Liquor Express & Deli on Geary Boulevard, a family-owned Salvadoran eatery. Our family is destined become regulars at that restaurant because the food was so good. I also like the idea of saying we got dinner from a place with the unlikely name, Liquor Express.

Regardless of what the (unavailable) government website suggests, "pride and satisfaction" are not the reasons we've continued volunteering this past year. We keep coming back to see the people and spaces we care about and to tackle new challenges. The work we do helps me show Wyatt how to live an open, creative and resilient life. And I had no idea this is what I was doing until I finished reading the new book, The Yes Brain, by Daniel J. Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson. The Yes Brain is nominally a parenting book, and it focuses on teaching parents and caregivers how to help children develop a Yes Brain. A Yes Brain has four key characteristics: balance, resilience, insight, and empathy. The book also teaches readers how to cultivate those four characteristics in themselves (it's not just for parents and caregivers). It's a quick, well-organized and engaging read. Because it's written by skilled authors with parents in mind, it's streamlined. They don't waste words, and they're gentle but direct. I ended up using a lot of the time I thought I'd be reading to reflect on what I was learning.

Read the book. It's totally worth your time. If nothing else, it may help to provide some context for why certain activities might be even more worthwhile than you had initially thought. For example, our volunteer work contributes to all four brain characteristics:

• Balance: Feeling like things are going right and you can handle yourself well. Volunteering gets us outside, and it helps us feel calm and useful.
• Resilience: Appreciating that situations in life can be difficult, challenge is okay, and the difficulties can make us stronger. While we're working, sometimes we mess up (or see others mess up), but we learn from the mistakes and we witness how group leaders meet the mistakes with kindness and gentle corrections. All of this goes a long way to helping everyone build resilience by feeling safe, seen, soothed, and secure.
• Insight: Recognizing your own emotional state before it overtakes you. Sometimes things get frustrating when you're working, and the low-pressure of volunteering allows the space to notice when you're feeling like a red volcano that's ready to blow.
• Empathy: Looking at someone with your heart, and noticing how that person is feeling. Fellow volunteers have different abilities and preferences, and you can observe a lot if you look with your heart. For example we can see and appreciate how someone with physical challenges prefers to weed in one spot while Wyatt would rather move around more, shoveling and moving rocks.

So good, right?

And for the days when any or all of these characteristics are lacking, but I stubbornly refuse to totally give up, I figure we can just eat more vegetables. Vegetables in the form of this Bok Choy Salad with Apple and Persimmon, for example. We've eaten this salad so many times already this winter, but somehow, I have no photos of it. I'll try to add a photo to this post later this week. If fuyu persimmons are elusive, we've used pomegranate seeds. I'm pretty sure it would also be good just with extra apple, too. (Edited on 1/25 to add the photo below!)

And in case you were wondering, we made it to the San Francisco Women's March on Saturday.

Giving and Getting

This is the face of a happy volunteer.

I thought I wasn't the kind of person who needed the attention that comes from appreciation parties. True givers do the work for the sake of the work, not to be celebrated for it. Right?

We've been volunteering in the Presidio for the better part of this year, and last Thursday was the annual Volunteer Appreciation Dinner where the staff throws a terrific party. The staff cook several turkeys, and everyone who attends brings a dish to share. I debated whether Wyatt and I should go. We'd be out late on a school night, and we didn't really need to be appreciated. We'd show up to work next time with or without a party. But parties are fun, and we like to dress up. So we went, and we are so glad we did.

As we drove up to the party, Wyatt noticed another car arriving at the same time and he said, "Hey! I know those people! That's Abby's car. The convertible BMW. It's got to be her." And sure enough, it was her. She was driving, and had given a ride to several other women we know from the garden and nursery. Once we had said hello, Abby asked if we could carry in some of the things she brought to share. Of course we could.

We checked-in, made our name tags, wrote a label for our shared dish (vegan! gluten-free! with nuts!), and then went in to mingle.

The staff had transformed the office into the most festive dining hall, and they were all still hard at work. Rebecca was tending bar, and she made Wyatt's night by mixing him a Unicorn ("Ginger ale, cranberry juice, and as much sparkling water as your mother would like.") Jean made sure we knew to look for the dressing with the gluten-free sign--she made sure they made some special. And Desmond brought us back to what looked like a gift shop and told us we could choose anything we wanted off the table.

Wyatt chose the orange blanket and I opted for a fleece vest that says "Golden Gate National Parks."

Dinner was truly spectacular. Best potluck ever. While we ate and chatted, they played a slide show of photos from previous years' appreciation parties. Wyatt kept spotting people we know, laughing at goofy photos, and trying to figure out where the photos were being projected from. On the drive home, we debated which side we liked the best (it was the dressing, but so many of the salads were close seconds!), discussed why halvah tastes weird (we tried every gluten-free offering on the dessert table), and exclaimed how glad we were that we went.

It was such a good night, and while we didn't need to be fed an amazing dinner, the truth is we kind of did. It felt good. And it reminded me of a Brené Brown quote: “Until we can receive with an open heart, we're never really giving with an open heart. When we attach judgment to receiving help, we knowingly or unknowingly attach judgment to giving help."

The dish we made to share was the Brussels Sprouts, Apple, and Pomegranate Salad from Smitten Kitchen. It's fancy (thanks to the pomegranate seeds), fast to prepare, and delicious. I couldn't find any brussels sprouts at the store, so I went with a savoy cabbage instead. It was terrific.

October Is Here

Mom. I always thought that when they made donut holes instead of donuts, someone cut the middles out of donuts to make the little...round lumps. You know? BUT THEY DON'T.

No, they don't. You can easily have donut holes without the donuts, and vice versa. Mindblowing.

On Monday morning, we revised our plan to hike in the Presidio, because, as you may have heard, the entire state of California is pretty much on fire right now. It's scary and horrible to see the destruction, never mind how the fires are still raging. The smoke is intense even in San Francisco.

Wyatt and I flipped through cookbooks to find a suitable birthday treat for Margaret's Birthday Breakfast for Dinner that evening. We opted for Apple Cider Doughnut (Holes) from Gluten-Free Girl's American Classic's Reinvented. We discussed the risks of trying a new recipe for the occasion and decided to go for it anyway.

After some grocery shopping, we headed downtown to visit our friends who were spending the day at the Contemporary Jewish Museum. We learned from Sukkah Artist in Residence Ari Salomon how to take vertical panoramic photos and he gave us some terrific prints.

As far as the donut holes, I think our batter was too runny. I'm not sure why, because I was really careful about following every instruction meticulously. I mean, I was meticulous to the point of, "This batter looks too runny to form into balls. But I had better leave it alone because what do I know, I've never made this before." Anyway, our apple cider donut holes didn't end up even close to spherical, but you know what? They still tasted amazing. And we all preferred the weird sticky-out pieces because they got crunchier. The stack of about thirty of them made an excellent birthday-cake-mountain, and because they were donut holes, we didn't have to save them for dessert.

The rest of our weekend was full of Northern California October Things that all fell on the same weekend this year: Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, Lambtown, and The Blue Angels.

The concert was terrific. It was also more political than in previous years, and it was way more safety-conscious. I guess it's fair to say it was Very 2017. Wyatt learned a few more "bad words" from some of the performers, but he has since forgotten them, and I steadfastly refuse to remind him what they were. In and around great music, we cheered for justice, equality, the end of toxic masculinity, and more. And we even played a few spontaneous and hilariously competitive rounds of Uno with two men seated behind us on the lawn at the Swan Stage. Uno is SUCH a great game. Taking a photo of our card game would have ruined the mood, so I didn't do that. I did, however get one of Wyatt working on some finger knitting while we were there.

Lambtown was also wonderful, as always. We watched young sheep dogs try to herd some sheep, visited with the animals, and saw some incredible fibers, crafts, and artwork. I got to visit with Sincere Sheep and see my Strata cowl styled ever so beautifully in the festival booth.

Wyatt opted for a ticket to the petting zoo over the (tragically circular) pony rides this year. And good thing he did, because there was a puppy section. He snuggled every single one of them multiple times. (Why didn't I pay $5 for my own puppy snuggles? I mean, just LOOK.)

And if that's not enough? When we got home, I canned another batch of fruit butter. This time was roasted pear with vanilla, cardamom and honey. It's outstanding.

Color Factory!

Social media has its good points. You know that feature where you can see the things your friends have said they're "attending" or "interested in?" I love that feature. That feature is how I found out about the Color Factory.

The Color Factory is a pop-up museum that invites us to experience color in the context of immersive, interactive installations. There are colors in light, paint, ribbon, paper, and more, and it's all around you. It's amazing.

I've been listening voraciously to A Piece of Work, and thinking about how our experience with modern art is all about how we interact with a piece, how it makes us feel, and what it makes us think. There's so much room for pondering all these questions at the Color Factory. They also give you snacks.

Here are some of the photos from Wyatt's and my journey through a sea of colors, textures, sounds, and experiences.

This was a museum at its best. Color Factory tickets are available through September, here.

My New Favorite Cookbook

... is Salt Fat Acid Heat.

I suspected it would become my new favorite after I volunteered to test recipes for it over a year ago. Marc, Wyatt and I agreed that all of the recipes we got were so good, I should save them to reference and use again and again until the book was published. So that's what I did: Tuna confit and sauces galore!

I bought my copy of the book from Omnivore Books a couple of months ago. This weekend, Wyatt and I headed over to Omnivore to meet Samin Nosrat and Wendy MacNaughton, and to get our copy signed by both of them.

We were a little late, and the shop was packed. So we waited outside and met some lovely people and their dogs, including Willy the Terrier (who did circus tricks for us) and Tess the Bulldog (who is so sweet, has one eye, and still manages to do all the important things in life). Our sidewalk status meant we didn't get to hear Samin and Wendy's talk. But never mind! We figured we'd just wait in line for the book signing. But like I said, it was packed in the shop, and after we had been in line for awhile, the line got reconfigured. Suddenly, we found ourselves totally OUT of the line, so I asked a woman who was still IN line if we could merge in front of her (doesn't merge sound better than cut?). She was very generous, we merged, and when I asked her what the talk was about, she gave me an incredibly detailed description of what went on. It was almost as good as being able to hear it myself.

We got our book signed, and we got some really heartfelt gratitude for having been recipe testers.

The book is unlike any cookbook I have ever used. Part extremely friendly textbook and part recipe reference, it reminds me a little bit of the online class I took and loved, Science & Cooking. By reading the book, you learn the "why" and "how" behind the four elements of cooking, but in addition to that, you start to build a deep understanding of how to best combine ingredients, flavors, and textures to make delicious food. There are beautifully illustrated charts, examples, and explanations. It's a book from which you can actually learn to cook and free yourself from being tied to recipes.

I've read the sections Salt, Fat, and Acid. I've just started reading Heat. And despite Samin's written admonition not to, I have skipped ahead and made some of the recipes in the second half of the book already. This weekend, we had the Vietnamese Cucumber Salad (I used toasted pepitas instead of peanuts). I served it with Baked Panko Rockfish (substituting GF flour and GF panko breadcrumbs) and coconut-herbed steamed rice. The salad was my favorite part, and the little bit that was left over was still terrific the next day.

Spring, Summer, and Strawberry Cocoa Jam

Spring is almost over, and summer is almost here.

I know this fact is true not only because Wyatt's last day of school is this Friday, but also because the fava beans are done fava-ing. This week, we learned that it's time to plant pumpkins, so we helped chop up the fava stalks, turned over the soil, and planted some pumpkin seedlings.

Volunteering is good to do, right? So we started volunteering this winter. Volunteering in the Presidio Nursery was something tangibly good and family-friendly that we could do regularly in service of our community. The work immediately became something we looked forward to every week. And to be perfectly honest, if it hadn't been fun, we would have stopped going. I have learned that even the most easygoing six-year olds don't suffer drudgery or duty without whining and pouting, and I already have enough drudgery, duty, and six-year old whining and pouting in my life. In the last few months, we've gotten a t-shirt, washed, emptied, and filled pots, weeded, transplanted, pruned, watered, swept, repaired irrigation systems, shelled fava beans, found creatures, and collected seeds from native plants. It would be nice if every weed we pulled, every native plant we saved, and every new friendship we nurtured sent a grain or two of sand flying into the gears of the current federal administration. But resistance comes in many forms, and I'm content to know the work we have done has been good for us and our community.

As our schedule shifts into summer camps and less predictability for the next couple of months, we'll be in the nursery less. But we will fit in some Saturdays, and we plan to get back to more work in the fall.

But between now and fall, there's summer, which is berry season! Yesterday, we picked some raspberries, and we're eyeing our blueberries, waiting for them to ripen. Berry season is the best. Buy or pick organic ones. I'm partial to blueberries and raspberries, but if you find yourself either out of jam or with too many strawberries (either by design or by accident), definitely make some Strawberry Cocoa Jam from Marisa McClellan's book, Naturally Sweet Food In Jars. The jam is unlike any I have ever tasted. It's rich, dark, and frankly incredible.

Art, Music & Dance

"Mom. Maybe we can bring the cassette player downstairs so I can keep listening while I get ready for my recital."

I wonder if I will ever have a better, more unexpected parenting moment than getting my son ready for his first dance recital to the wobbly-sounding tunes of dump-rescued cassette recordings.

Saturday was a huge day. It was Dance Recital Day. Fortunately it was also other things, too, like the reception for the Recology Art Exhibition, because it's a long day when the thing you're most excited about is at the end.

In the morning, Marc and Wyatt worked on some paper airplanes while I was at the gym and did some errands. Once I was home, we opted for an early lunch. Wyatt learned how to make tuna melts.

After lunch, Wyatt and I headed off to Tunnel Avenue to check out the art show (while Marc went on a super-secret errand to buy flowers for after the recital). We enjoyed the art show just as much as the last one. Wyatt loved Carrie Hott's exhibit the most, and Nathan Byrne's almost as much. The projects were so amazing that we had to keep reminding ourselves that every single thing, down to the paint, had been sourced from the dump. The "free table" was really fun this time--lots of cassette tapes. Wyatt chose to bring home two of them, a commercial recording of Diana Ross, and a home recording of Lionel Richie. He has been listening to both of them, punctuated occasionally with Marc's tape of The Cure's Greatest Hits, nonstop.

When we returned from Recology, it was showtime. Or at least time to great ready for showtime.

Thanks to the direction (and infinite patience) of guest teacher and choreographer Byb Chanel Bibene, Wyatt and his classmates performed a dance evoking the Mbouanda Celebration in the Niari, a department in the Republic of the Congo. In addition to having a solo, Wyatt was really looking forward to the body paint Byb promised to do for him, and he was awfully excited to hang out backstage without Marc or me and do crafts until his group's turn.

The recital was everything (and more) you'd expect from a performance of 160 children. We were thoroughly entertained for the entire 75 minutes. Wyatt's class performed the final dance, and Wyatt was the first one on stage. He couldn't have looked happier or have been more attentive to his performance. I smiled so hard for him that my cheeks started to hurt.

After the show, as Wyatt led me backstage to get his flip-flops and flannel shirt, he explained how fun it was backstage, how hidden the stage door was, and how I didn't know where anything was, but he did.  And he explained his body paint came from a big jar that Byb had brought with him.

"Look. Byb drew Congolese suns on my front and back. He didn't even have to use any brushes. I can't wait for the next show. When IS next year's show?"

How To Stand Up For Yourself

"Mom. Did those people just get arrested? Oh wait. Yes, they did. I see the handcuffs on them. They must have done something REALLY BAD. Hang on. I mean, the police must THINK they did something really bad. But WHY is that police officer taking stuff out of their car? Is he looking for something? What on EARTH is he looking for?"

As we left the beach today following a short (but soul restoring) sandcastle building session, we arrived at our car only to find ourselves crime-scene-adjacent. And because a police car was blocking my only way out of the parking space, Wyatt got a good, long look at everything that was happening. Fortunately, he didn't notice the collection of drug paraphernalia that had been placed on the roof of the suspects' car, so I didn't have to explain that. He did, however, watch one officer meticulously searching the car, another officer minding and questioning the two morose, handcuffed suspects seated on the curb, and he saw more officers arriving to assist. Shortly after help arrived, one of the officers moved their car and I was able to leave.

Here's an excerpt of my conversation with Wyatt on the ride home. WHAT DO THE OFFICERS THINK THOSE PEOPLE DID? I have no idea. WHY DO THEY GET TO LOOK AT EVERYTHING IN THEIR CAR? That's one of the things police officers can do when they arrest you--search your pockets, your car, your bags, that kind of thing. WHAT ARE THEY LOOKING FOR? Stuff you're not supposed to have. LIKE WHAT COULD THAT POSSIBLY BE? Ohhh, I don't know. Stuff you're not supposed to have. LIKE WHAT? Ummm. LIKE WHAT? Maybe you have a gun you're not supposed to have. A GUN? WHY WOULD YOU HAVE THAT IN YOUR CAR? Okay, good point, forget that. Remember when we flew on the airplane and there was that list of stuff you can't bring in your luggage? Like fireworks? Maybe they're looking for fireworks that people aren't supposed to have. WHY CAN'T YOU HAVE FIREWORKS? Because in some places, they're considered too dangerous. LIKE BECAUSE PEOPLE DON'T MAKE GOOD DECISIONS WITH THEM AND THEY LIGHT STUFF ON FIRE? Yes--exactly. BUT WHAT IF THE PEOPLE IN HANDCUFFS DIDN'T DO WHAT THE POLICE THINK THEY DID? OH WAIT! I KNOW. THEY STAND UP FOR THEMSELVES. THEY CAN BE LIKE ROSA PARKS AND SAY THEY SHOULD GO AHEAD AND ARREST THEM.  No. That's a different situation. It's called civil disobedience. But I can see why you're thinking about that. If you get arrested, you do your best to be respectful of the officers without saying much, even if you know you didn't do anything wrong. WHY? For two reasons. First, we respect other people. Second, you should really only be talking to the officers to ask to call your lawyer. HOW DO YOU GET A LAWYER? HOW WOULD I GET A LAWYER? I am your lawyer. Do you know my phone number?

It was really hard for me to make the concepts involved in this conversation age-appropriate. It was especially hard today because the killing of Jordan Edwards was very much on my mind. I mean, a kid can be doing his best, including leaving a party before the cops show up, and if he's black, the police still might shoot him in the head (and lie about it). 

After Wyatt reassured himself that he knows my phone number, I reassured him that he wouldn't have any chance of being arrested for a long time. I also told him it's great to know my number in case of an emergency. (LIKE WHAT KIND OF EMERGENCY? Like if you're out somewhere and you can't find me, but you see another parent, you could ask them to call me. OKAY.)

Ultimately, our conversation about criminal law came down to trying to answer the question, "How do you stand up for yourself?" We talked about how Rosa Parks stood up to the bus driver who told her to move. And we talked about how if you're arrested, you can stand up for yourself by insisting you need to talk to a lawyer. I also raised a question about what it might be like to stand up for a friend when you notice something isn't right, like the time a stranger started patting Wyatt's friend's hair. Wyatt remarked, "She was white, right? Why did she think she could touch his hair? Is it because his skin is darker than hers or because he uses a wheelchair?" "Maybe both," I said.

I suggested that how exactly you stand up for yourself or for your friends can change depending on the situation, and after thinking for a little bit, Wyatt agreed.

Watching police work was not the way I would have chosen to end our sweet little beach visit today, but I couldn't be more pleased to have stumbled on such a useful way to frame discussions around justice of all kinds.

Shirts, Citrus & Salt

Mom. I was NOT expecting that they would give us t-shirts! But now we match the other volunteers. I LOVE MY SHIRT. Can you please fix mine tonight or tomorrow so that I can wear it next week?

Last Wednesday, we leveled-up in the volunteer world: Wyatt and I were invited to choose "Golden Gate National Parks Native Plant Nurseries" t-shirts. We both went with the smallest ones they had: Adult Small.

Today, I leveled-up in sewing alterations. The volunteer shirt was the third in the stack of shirts I had promised to alter for Wyatt over the last six months. This tutorial was a really helpful starting point. I saved the volunteer shirt for last because it was the biggest, and I needed to work up to it. I won't lie; things got a little stressful, and I had to improvise beyond the tutorial. Part of the way through the volunteer shirt alterations, Wyatt said, tearfully, "I AM IN A PIN TRAP. Mom, you need to go read your tutorial again because this shirt feels DUMB." But we stuck with it (ha!) and now it looks, as Marc said, like I popped the shirts in the oven and shrank them perfectly. One detail that went a long way towards making the alterations look less like a hack-job was my double line of stitching along the new hems. Fancy!

I have decided that getting three shirts off the mending pile and into rotation is as good as clearing out drawers and closets today (and for the last three days). It isn't, really. But I cannot help bargaining (with myself) and attempting to refine "the rules" so that I still feel like I'm on task. I guess I'm a puritanical six-year old at heart.

We cooked up a storm this weekend! Friends were in town! We started with the citrus sorbets (Grapefruit-Champagne and Tangerine) that would end our dinner.

Dinner itself was whole Tai Snapper baked in pounds (and pounds) of salt (an astonishingly fun, impressive, and easy process--read about it here), herbed steamed rice (which I actually forgot to serve anyone), white mushrooms with garlic and parsley, as made in Logroño (out of Tapas, a taste of Spain in America, but very similar to this recipe), and a salad of dandelion greens with almond vinaigrette and dried ricotta. I recommend making as much of this dinner as you possibly can, and remember, if you forget the rice, too, it reheats really well.

Bye, February

Welp, there went February. And on March 1? We begin the annual 40-day clear-out. Marc and Wyatt are soooooooo excited. (That's what it means when you groan and roll your eyes, right? That you're excited?)

Okay, so maybe no one is really excited about doing it. But we'll be lighter and happier when it's done, so we'll get there. Or we'll get through it. Either way, it's happening.

But February! I shouldn't be so dismissive. It has been as good a short month as anyone could ask for. Last week was "ski week" for people who do that. For us, it was just a regular week, only there was no school. We visited the Botanical Garden one day between rain storms. We sat by the fountain and explored all the paths. We saw camellias, daffodils, and magnolias in blossom.

We also spent three glorious hours working in the Presidio Nursery on Wednesday afternoon in the sun after days and days of pouring rain. We're planning to go again this week. Weed by weed (and for me, call by call as well), we are becoming the volunteers and citizens we need to be.

I also finally made it to an Asian grocery store to find the ingredients I was missing so I could cook from the amazing book that Sarah sent me, The Food of Thailand: A Journey For Food Lovers. The grocery shopping adventure was humbling. It took me 90 minutes, but I got the five items on my list. Tonight's dinner was Neua Phat Bai Hohrapha/Beef with Thai Sweet Basil Leaves. If you follow the recipe here and substitute 1 medium onion, finely sliced, for the shallot, you will have the recipe I used. If, like Marc, you want to skip the beef, substitute 1 large Asian eggplant, cut into 1/2 inch cubes, and stir-fry a few minutes longer with about three tablespoons of oil.

And speaking of Sarah! Wyatt received the most delightful craft from Benjamin today. Perfect timing, once again, after a rough day getting back into the school groove.

Wyatt lifted the box and shook it gently, remarking, "This is so light it feels empty! I AM SO EXCITED TO SEE WHAT IS AS LIGHT AS AIR!"

Is this not the most delightful, quizzically-wise-looking needle-felted owl in a nest? After examining the owl and taking it in and out of the nest, Wyatt remarked, "Mom. Can you BELIEVE Benjamin made this whole thing? It must have taken him FOREVER, because you know how hard it is to needle-felt big things like this owl...and the nest! Look how they fit so perfectly together. Do you think we should make some eggs for the nest? We could, right? They're like the balls we made for the trivets."

Of course we could make eggs for the nest. (And how great is it to give a craft to someone who knows how hard you must have worked on it? I love that part.)

The owl is currently keeping watch over everything important from Wyatt's nightstand.

Twelve and Seven

This was us seven years ago at City Hall, on the fifth anniversary of our first date. It was the day we got married! It was such a good day, as you can see on our faces.

(Also, notice the stick sculptures in the trees above our bright, shining, rested, smooth faces? That's a glimpse of an art installation made of willow branches, called "The Upper Crust," by Patrick Dougherty.)

The last seven years have brought a lot of change, most of it thanks to becoming a family of three. Our current life bears no reasonable resemblance to our carefree existence of seven to twelve years ago. I mean, there was actually a time when we were decent resources for on-a-whim travel, amazing restaurants, and movie recommendations because we traveled lots of places (sometimes on a whim!), ate at terrific new restaurants regularly, and saw lots of movies whenever we pleased.

Now? You'd need a macro lens to see what we've been up to, other than bringing up a child. If I let you zoom-in, you'd notice, in addition to some new fine lines, lots of challenging, internal work we've done separately and together. You'd also see how we've shared some amazing, terrible, and solidly in-between times along the way. You'd be impressed at what we've learned, shocked at what we haven't, and unable to stop laughing at how we continue to step in it. I'm grateful every single day to have a partner who loves me to distraction. And being in a relationship that demands, in the best ways possible, that we each support the other person's growth? You can't beat it.

The traditional gift for the seventh year of marriage is wool. And if I had bothered to learn that fact sooner than the night before our anniversary, I could have done something really terrific with that knowledge. Instead, I kicked myself and proceeded to look at dessert recipes. I made chocolate pie, and we happily shared it with friends who unexpectedly dropped by around dinner time. I used this recipe, along with the gluten-free frozen pie crust from Whole Foods. And if you don't have pie crust? It's great just as pudding. Breakfast pudding even. Don't ask how I know.

Also, I have good news: We got a mini wine fridge. This means we can get back to making cheese. We have been on hiatus because after the washed rind cheese, I finally admitted we did not have the temperature control we needed to get good, reliable aged cheese results. After much discussion and shopping, we finally bought a not-too-fancy cheese (wine) fridge with the money we got from selling Wyatt's old stroller. So far, we feel like this was a win for all three of us. Wyatt and I started an aged goat cheese. Maybe the third time trying this recipe will be the charm. It should go in the cave tomorrow. (Tasting video to follow, maybe.)

We Are Pot Scrubbers

Volunteering is so glamorous, isn't it? But as Wyatt remarked once we had finished our shift at the Presidio Nursery on Saturday afternoon, "That was WAY more fun than I thought it would be. I can't wait to go back!"

And we will go back. This was our first family foray into "Volunteering for the Environment." "The Environment" is an (admittedly broad) area we have identified as a way our little family can work together to better our community. And as everyone knows, when we help in our communities all that good work adds up, and it helps our our state, and then our country (assuming California doesn't secede), and also the planet. Yes, we have lofty goals! And we are working towards them.

We arrived at the Presidio Nursery a little bit late for the 1pm start on Saturday, but our leader, Desmond, set us up with our own pot scrubbing station in no time. The three of us (and a bunch of other people) had dish scrubbers that we used to dry scrub the dirt off seedling pots. There were other people who washed the pots with soap, others rinsed them, and still others assembled the pots into racks. The assemblers got to use a mallet, so that was obviously the best job. In addition to the pot scrubbers, there were groups that were washing seeds and maybe also sorting seeds. Honestly, I don't remember for sure, though, because once we heard those jobs were very detail oriented and required patience, we were relieved to have been pegged as "Pot Scrubbers" from the beginning.

Around 2:30, we had a snack break in the Habitarium. The Nursery provided the snacks, because they are classy like that.

After snack? Back to work. This time with the boom box in our palace of pots where many of us did our best pot-scrub-dance-lip-sync routines. It wasn't long before one of the teenagers who was working in the assembly station asked Wyatt if he wanted to use the mallet on the pots once he had them set and ready to go. Wyatt literally jumped at the chance.

We even got volunteer pins when we were finished. Like I said, classy.

If you're in the Bay Area and interested in volunteer opportunities with the Golden Gate National Parks Conservancy, here's a great summary of what opportunities are available when, and how to sign-up in advance to bring a group larger than four people.

And if after a busy day, you, like Wyatt, need more potatoes and olive oil in your life, try this incredible recipe by Penelope Casas for Tortilla Española. I've tried several recipes for this dish, and this is by far the best one. And I'll admit that it may sound fiddly to separate each slice of potato before cooking, but just do it. It's so worth it.

When I make this recipe, I use a 10" skillet (we'd be lost without the leftovers), so I need more of everything. I usually use about 5 medium-large Yukon Gold potatoes, a giant yellow onion, and 8 large eggs. I also use not too fancy olive oil. The rest of the recipe remains the same. That is, it remains the same except when it doesn't. This weekend, I couldn't be bothered to flip the omelet. Instead, after the edges of the omelet had begun to set, I put the cast-iron pan into a preheated 350 degree oven and baked it until it was just firm (about 20 minutes). Slightly less beautifully golden on both sides, but equally delicious.

The Year of the Cock

Here's a song I think you might love: "I'm Gonna Walk It With You."

Could Brian Claflin and Ellie Grace's song be more beautiful, uplifting, inspiring, or on point? I don't think so. It's exactly the kind of song I need playing in my head right now, and it truly warms my heart to feel the kindness and strength of character behind it. Maynard Moose may have sparked my affection for the Claflin-Darrigrand family decades ago, but my appreciation for them and their work is still growing.

Wyatt and I listened to this song at least a dozen times today. Part way through dinner, he hummed and sang, "I will face the man in the tallest tower..." but then he stopped. "Who's the man in the tallest tower? A king?" "Maybe," I said. "It could be anyone who's directing things or making rules from somewhere so high, you can't reach." "Ah. Like a king. Mom. Can we listen to that thing we listened to over there on that sofa, that thing where all the voices told the story about the King in England who burned houses and threw people into the water? Does that story only happen at a certain time of year? Or can we hear it now? You know the one I mean, right?" No. I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. And I was shocked by my obvious lack of judgment. But after some further questioning, I realized he meant NPR's reading of the Declaration of Independence. The 2016 reading is here. We listened again tonight, and I caught myself holding my breath several times.

How did you spend your weekend? I spent a lot of it outraged, sad, and reading news reports and social media posts as the events around the Muslim Ban began to unfold. On Sunday, though, we celebrated with friends and strangers at the Asian Art Museum, ushering in The Year of the Rooster (or Cock, if you prefer!) with crafts, art, stunning student performances, and Chinese traditions. 

Over the past week, I have been consuming way more news than salad, and that balance needs to change. We made a stunning seasonal salad on Saturday night: Spinach with pomegranate seeds and blood oranges, tossed with a balsamic vinaigrette. For the vinaigrette, I used the usual 1 tablespoon vinegar and 3 tablespoons olive oil, salt, and also added about a 1/4 teaspoon of tarragon mustard. Wyatt and Marc were tasked with pomegranate seed removal. To get them started, I quartered the fruit by cutting out the flower-end of the pomegranate with a paring knife, inserting my thumbs, and then prying the fruit into four pieces. We also had a swoon-worthy Creamy Tomato-Fennel Soup, thanks to Catherine Newman's recipe. 

Let's look out for one another as we move into another week.

(Resist, resist, resist! Donate, support, speak-up, and connect. Rinse and repeat.)