Monthly Archives: December 2011

From the Archives: On Dirt and Love

Found this in an "unposted" folder. Always good to hear and heed one's own advice.

On Dirt and Love (August 19, 2011)

I am at home with dirt. I was never much of a housekeeper—though I had aspirations at the beginning. After three babies in three years, I pretty much gave up. I still make a half-hearted attempt each week to have a “cleaning day” when we team up to vacuum, dust, mop, hose down the cockpit, and wash windows, but the deep cleaning doesn’t really happen unless we have some sort of major spill that requires us lifting floorboards or emptying shelves.

“Clean” doesn’t really last, either. Maybe ten minutes. We usually finish the chores and then go for a swim. That way, I get the mess-makers off the boat and I can have a “clean” home for a few minutes. The minute we return, the mess returns as well. I try not to spend a lot of time or energy nagging, but I admit that it’s hard to balance training small people to clean up after themselves and being sensitive to how it might feel to be corrected constantly. Occasionally, I admit, I wish I could have a clean and orderly environment, and I look accusingly at my mess-makers.

I usually catch myself in these discontented thoughts and remember how awful it would be not to have them around. Sure, I’d have all the time in the world to keep my home environment spotless. But without someone coming around after I sweep to dump sand out of his pockets, the boat would simply stay clean and I’d be bored senseless. What I’ve come to realize is that dirt and love are inextricably connected. The very existence of small fingerprints, sticky spots on the table, glitter on the floor and crumbs on the cushions indicates that this home is full of love. Without all the evidence, one might miss that there are five happy, rambunctious people around here, living and working and playing and doing what kids do best: un-self-consciously making messes. Someday there will be no missing puzzle pieces to discover between the settee cushions, no more stray pencil marks, no Cheerios under the table. And then what? I hate to even think about it.

We have a saying around here: many hands make light work. Because we are all in it together, every day, we make the messes together and then we clean them up together. Perfection is a myth which leads to misery. Next time I feel like nagging, I will repeat this mantra: dirt equals love, dirt equals love, dirt equals love…

How to Rock a Boat Baby

I was missing my rocking chair when I first brought Rachel home, but I quickly realized it was no longer necessary. This poem, like “The House that Jack Built” grew out of that realization. Every night I rock her to sleep, but with very little effort on my part.

At the end of the day when I lay her down
In a soft pink blanket and a tiny nightgown
I love to rock my baby:
I sit in the seat and the seat rocks me
I hold her close and she falls asleep,
That’s how I rock my baby.

At night when I lay her down to rest
Like a little bird in a cozy nest
I love to rock my baby:
The boat rocks the seat
The seat rocks me
I hold her close and she falls asleep,
That’s how I rock my baby.

At night when I lay her in her bed
And she rubs her eyes and sleepy head
I love to rock my baby:
The water rocks the boat
The boat rocks the seat
The seat rocks me
I hold her close and she falls asleep,
That’s how I rock my baby.

As I lay her down in the dark of night
And she nuzzles me and I hold her tight
I love to rock my baby:
The waves rock the water
The water rocks the boat
The boat rocks the seat
The seat rocks me
I hold her close and she falls asleep,
That’s how I rock my baby.

Every night as I begin to rock
She grows as calm as a boat at dock
I love to rock my baby:
The wind rocks the waves
The waves rock the water
The water rocks the boat
The boat rocks the seat
The seat rocks me
I hold her close and she falls asleep,
That’s how I rock my baby.

That’s how it is when you live on a boat
Everything moves because it’s all afloat
It’s easy to rock a baby:
The world rocks the wind
The wind rocks the waves
The waves rock the water
The water rocks the boat
The boat rocks the seat
The seat rocks me
I hold her close and we fall asleep
That’s how I rock my baby.

Update on the Broken Leg

I took Rachel to the orthopedic surgeon last Monday to have some new x-rays taken of her leg to see how it was healing. We had been praying that the bone would be healed enough so that the harness would be unnecessary. Sleep deprivation was becoming an issue (not so much for Rachel, but for me). The good news? It's all good news! She grew as much bone in two weeks as it would take me six to eight weeks to grow. The doc declared her well; the injury will not cause problems for growing or walking, much to my relief. That night she slept on her tummy again and gave me a six-hour stretch and I awoke feeling human again. Each of the kids has tried a short-cut to heaven, but fortunately for me, none have been successful.

The Mercedes-Benz of Pressure Cookers

Having the right tools in the galley is essential to making great meals on a boat. I have written elsewhere about how much I love my Vitamix blender/grinder and my Foodsaver vacuum-sealer, but the newest addition, a Kuhn-Rikon Duromatic pressure cooker, may end up being my favorite.

The Swiss engineers at Kuhn-Rikon are obviously very proud of their product, congratulating the purchaser for buying “the Mercedes-Benz of pressure cookers.” Of course, that implies that it was expensive, but it was also the only pressure cooker that met my requirements: it is a 12-quart, stainless steel, 2-pressure-setting beast of a pot. It has won a prominent spot in the corner of the galley, more because I have nowhere else to put something so large than because I am particularly proud of it. Also, unless an appliance is easy to come by, it will get neglected due to the “out-of-sight-out-of-mind” syndrome.

I was always a slow-cooker kind of girl, but the crock-pot and the boat’s electric system used to have the occasional disagreement that led to ruining dinner. I knew many boaters had pressure cookers instead of crock pots, and now I know why. So far, I am very pleased with it. I am incredulous how quickly it cooks things that used to take forever—a chicken, for example—which takes almost two hours in the oven, took only 20 minutes to pressure-cook! And with the carcass, I made a bone broth in about an hour, something that I used to simmer overnight when we lived in a house and didn’t worry about conserving fuel. I have also made a pot roast, a rice pudding, Boston “baked” beans, a 20-minute meatloaf, butternut squash, potatoes, and a few soups. Though I have not (yet) noticed fuel savings, I have noticed that the galley doesn’t get as hot as when I use the oven, especially if I take the pot to the cockpit to de-pressurize.

Other uses for the pressure cooker about which I am excited are canning and sterilizing. I have up until now only done boiling-water canning with jams and other acidic items. Pressure canning allows me to can soups, meats, and vegetables. Not that I am planning a big canning spree, but you never know. When we did our emergency medical training, we learned that surgical instruments can be easily sterilized using pressurized steam. Hopefully I won’t need to do that, but now I can.

I am not only looking forward to modifying my favorite recipes for the pressure cooker, but also trying some new things, like pork shoulder for BBQ, black beans and rice, corned beef and cabbage, and the world’s-best creamy coconut flan for which my friend Chachi gave me a flan pan and recipe at Christmas (thank you)! While I wish I had known about the pressure cooker before now, I’m not sure I would have used it when I lived in the house. An oven with a timer and a slow-cooker may have made the pressure-cooker overkill. And, unless someone is cooking for a crowd, a cooker as large as mine is unnecessary. Lots of fellow boaters swear by these pots, and it has certainly earned a place in our galley. Initially we were resistant to buying one, but now that we have it we can’t figure out what we would do without it.

Broken Leg

With five kids, and three being energetic boys, it’s inevitable that we’re going to have some cuts and bruises.  We’ve had to have one kid stitched up, but so far we’d managed not to have any broken bones.  
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Well, no longer.  We’ve got one now, and a leg no less.  

So which little hellion was it?  Did Eli fall from a tree?  Did Aaron get hurt during a wrestling free-for-all?  Did Sarah wipeout on her rollerblades?  Was Sam injured in some daredevil stunt gone awry?  Nope.  

Last night, on the eve of her 7-month birthday, Rachel took a dive off of her changing table.  Tanya was right there, but sometimes two hands just aren’t enough.

It was a little hard to tell at first, but by morning it was obvious she was really hurt and Tanya took her to the emergency room.  The left femur is broken just above the knee.  Not sure how it happened, but I suppose it could have been much worse.  And for the second time in as many months I find myself thinking, “I’m sure glad that didn’t happen in the Bahamas.”

Other good news is that Rachel was fitted with a brace and not a cast.  A cast would have covered half her body and required she be sedated.  I’d hate to be the doctor who tries to “put under” one of Tanya’s kids.  He might get put under something himself.  

It’s also fitting that this post follow Tanya’s Thanksgiving post, since we had three heroines step up to tag-team the Fantastic Four while Tanya was at the hospital and I am flying back from the Left Coast.  Even the regular Friday boat-cleaning chores got done.  Wow.

Rachel, of course, will be fine.  Damage to our checkbook remains to be seen.  Tanya had to meet with a social worker, but an "investigation" won’t be necessary.

We’re not bad parents, really.  This is just one of those things that happen.  It’s kind of a miracle any of us survive childhood.

Baby Brace