Easy answer.

From The Economist Black campaign, developed at Abbot Mead Vickers BBDO, London. More here.

Raw milk? Yes please.

As of two weeks ago, we own 2% of one-quarter of a cow (or something like that) on this farm. That means we get some of her milk. I don't know what her name is, but I know she has one. Apparently the farmer couple name all of their girls.

Our brother and sister-in-law Joel and Jessie offered us part of their share and we thought, why not. We get a half-gallon of raw, whole milk from our part-of-a-cow each week. Jessie and I take turns going out there to pick it up and sometimes we go together. We bring giant mason jars and get the milk right out of the tank in the parlor. (I now realize how convenient the milk man must have been. Oh those lucky people living in the 50's.)

It is definitely more "milky" than what I've gotten used to. I've had raw milk before -- we used to drink it right out of the tank at my aunts and uncles' dairy farms -- but we never had it regularly and for the past few years I've been drinking skim along with the rest of urban society.

At first I thought I might have to start working out a lot (which I should be doing anyway). But it is so filling that I actually end up eating maybe half of the cereal that I used to, and for once I don't feel like my stomach is starting to digest itself by mid-morning. It even comes with the cream on top like in the olden days, which I skim off for my coffee. Plus I feel good about the extra vitamins and what-not we're getting out of it.

So, anyway...we're trying to support our local farmers a little better, especially the ones that are nice to their cows and chickens by letting them walk around in fields pecking at things and chewing some good, grassy cud. I get eggs from my co-worker Steve who has a coop behind his house. If we'd lived in Honduras longer I totally would've gotten my own little flock of cluckers. Everyone did it there. My side of the family is super farmy, so I have to represent.

So, I'm curious. Would you drink this stuff? It used to be that people didn't want milk without the cream on top, but I think things have changed :)

Chatty Cathy

Looks like it's two-for-one today. I just have so much fodder lately, I can't even tell you :)

For the past few weeks Jude is thrilled pretty much out of his mind by strings hanging from window shades. He cackles with delight and almost falls out of our arms reaching whenever he sees one. His favorite place to be in the world right now is on the couch where there are three shade strings hanging. He once got one in each hand and was so maxed out on glee he almost passed out from the excitement.

He just started doing "bye-bye" so we obsess over that for awhile in the video. He wouldn't do it for the camera though and preferred to chatter. Good enough for me.

Jono is talking about pee and doesn't realize the video is on:

Now I think a nice long dry spell is in order ;)

Jumping

It took Jude awhile to get how this thing works, but at about 9 months he stopped fussing about it and started LOVING IT. We always have music on in the background while he's in there so he can "dance". (He is busting moves left and right these days, I'm serious.)

Notice the BFF action? Yeah. Except his new thing is to slap her in the face. We are starting to teach the concept of "gentle" but it hasn't set in yet ;)

Labor Day Hike

Every year the Klooster family goes on a long walk down a stretch of Lake Michigan beach. It's called the Labor Day Hike. We walk out to the pier and back, it takes maybe an hour each way, and it is lovely. (Yes, that is Jude's chubby, sandy foot.)

The Hike started hundreds of years ago (or maybe 40) with Jono's grandma Leona and her sister Elsie. They are both feisty and smart, and were found bickering over who had the cutest great grandchild. They have one each now: Jude, 9 months, and Elijah, 2 months. (Apparently when Jude exited the car following a lengthy debate between the two of them, Leona said, "Now Elsie, isn't that the cutest child you've ever seen?" Elsie replied simply, "No.")

Anyway, the tradition spread to extended family and now the children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren come along too. We always have a potluck afterward and know about half of the people there on any given year. But it's fun to see strangers that are somehow related to us, and to catch up with the people we do know.

Here are some pics. This is probably the first time Jude actually dipped his toes into Lake Michigan. He had "discovered" sand before, but back then the water was too cold.

Can anyone guess what Jude wants in that second shot?
He is a subtle child ;)

We Actually Finished Something

Before:

After:

(one year later)

We painted over the old grey/dark forest green color scheme and got rid of the junky screens enclosing the porch. Then we stuck a baby and daddy on the front steps and a husky in the yard. Wa-lah! (Click to enlarge)

Thanks paint crew:

A Few Gems

Here are some nice shots of Fat Man for you. The room wasn't well-lit so technically they're not stellar. My subject on the other hand...

Working Girl

It's official. As of September 1, I was back to being a working girl.

This is nothing new. I've been working since I was 13. But I've had a golden nine months "off" now (all stay-at-home and work-at-home moms are laughing with me now), and it's time I started getting paid.

The first couple of mornings were the hardest. I didn't know when it would hit me, but suddenly it did as I gave Jude to Jono and turned around to grab my bag of work stuff. Hot tears. When Jono saw my face, he got them too. As I went out the door I waved. Jude stared at me with his mouth in typical Cheerio mode. His chubby arm stayed by his side.

By the time I sat down at my desk things were okay. How I felt about things this week changed by the hour.

When I got up those first couple of mornings to bacon and eggs on the table, I thought "Hmm. This is above and beyond." When I was making good progress on something at work I would think, "Hmm. I can see how some women can't do the stay-at-home thing." When I would get home and Jono would be making some exotic Indian dish for me, I would think, "Hmm. Not bad." When he cleaned up afterward, baked some blueberry muffins, made a batch of cookies, and packed me a mid-morning snack for the next day I thought, "Hmm. This is crazy. My husband is Susie Homemaker. And I LOVE it."

Then night would come, darkness would fall and I would start to get a little anxious. I worried Jude wouldn't reach for me any more. I worried my relationship with him will change; that I'd start feeling differently about him somehow, and that it wouldn't be as good. I worried about becoming the "secondary parent". I worried I'd lose confidence in parenting him because I don't see him all day.

This morning I woke up and it was low-drama Friday. I smooched Jude's cheek goodbye and left the house cool as a cucumber. After work I pulled into the driveway and he was in the front yard playing with my mom. I turned off the ignition as fast as I could, hopped out and peeked at him over the roof rack. He gave me the Cheerio mouth again and the bright little eyes starting to recognize and anticipate. We smiled big smiles at each other.

I scuttled around the back of the car, threw my bag and travel mug onto the sidewalk and ran for him -- he was doing the quick, excited breathing he does now when he sees me -- I scooped him up and it was like that moment in the movies when two people are embracing after running across a golden wheat field in slow motion. Except that one of us is a full-sized adult female and the other one is a short, chunky infant who can't walk.

Within seconds of our reunion, he started whining. To nurse of course. I am his personal milk-cow. But it's a sound I like to hear. Bubba still loves his mama.

So that's that. I'll be back to laughing hard when I watch The Office. As everyone knows, that show was made for people who work in one.