Sunday Funday

Last weekend was awesome.

My dad was on campus for work all day Friday so we biked Eddie to daycare together (my dad is jealous of my commute) and then biked home together at the end of the day. We had sausages with sauerkraut and salads for dinner. Once Dave got home that night, around 9:30pm, my dad offered to stay home with sleeping Eddie so we could have a date. Yes! We went to Crepeville for (my second) dinner and dessert....and some grocery shopping at the end.

The next morning, Dave and my dad set to work putting up the fake flagstone veneer outside on the porch. FINALLY. Only a little more work and I'll be able to get the final window inspection so I can pull off the stickers and actually SEE out the windows (imagine that!). Eddie and I biked across town to a birthday playdate. Dave met Joe (the dad) in highschool and it was just a coincidence that they both ended up living in Davis. I remember Joe texting Dave on the day they found out they would have a baby girl and he told Dave we'd have to arrange a marriage between our children. Haha. Anyway, we couldn't leave the house without Eddie's heavy metal trike, so I bungy-corded it to my bike rack. It added a LOT of weight! My dad said I looked like a third world bike commuter. And of course, Eddie didn't want to ride it once we got to the party...sigh...

When we got home, Eddie was super tired but I made him eat some lunch before his nap. He was soaking wet from playing in the water table at the park so I stripped him down to his birthday suit. While I was cooking up his mac-n-cheese lunch I noticed he was suspiciously quiet. I walked out to the patio to see what he was up to...and he was sitting on his little red potty going POOP! I didn't react when I saw him, lest I disturb him. But as soon as he stood up we both started clapping and shouting "woohoo!" I took him to the bathroom to clean him up and then we went out to tell Grandpa and Daddy that they wouldn't have to worry about dealing with any poopy diapers that day. There were high fives all around! As far as I can tell, potty training is all about being naked with potty chairs scattered conveniently around the house and no pressure from adults.

My dad suggested that I send a picture of it to my brother...isn't it great that my dad encourages the sibling rivalry between us? What a great dad. I can't say that I didn't do it...and got a text from Edward later that said, "If you just sent me a picture of poop, you suck." But all's fair in love and war...so he's been getting me back ever since by sending me pictures of amazing Florida sunsets and platters of sushi from his extended vacation down south with Jennifer. He always manages to send them during working hours so I get them while I'm stuck inside my climate-controlled lab. It is torture. (But I guess it isn't as bad as getting a poop picture...I say we're even.)

Back to Saturday: After a (very short) nap, Eddie and I went swimming while the guys finished up the veneer work. We made taco salads for dinner and got to eat out on the patio. With all the physical labor from the stone work and biking all over town, we were all SO tired and sore that night.
On Sunday morning, my dad and I took our bantam rooster over to my friend Yumi's housing community (the N Street Co-ops) so her friend could show me how to butcher him. I'm not allowed to have a rooster in the city limits...and even if I were, I wouldn't want one. Perhaps if the chicken pen were more than 20 feet away from my open bedroom window...

Anyway, the guy who helped me was either still drunk from the night before or super hung over (he reeked of beer...brought back memories of college). He was really nice, encouraging, and helpful, though. I didn't want to "do the deed" so I watched him and then I took over to remove the feathers and guts. It was a relatively calm, easy process and I'm sure that I could handle doing it myself. My dad said that it used to take his Aunt Doris only 30 minutes to get a chicken from alive to roasting in the oven--so of course, that's become my homesteading goal. I remember being on Easter Island years ago and ordering chicken for dinner--I saw the waitress grab one of the chickens that was walking around the tables, take it to the back, and emerge about 40 minutes later with my grilled chicken. Now that's fresh food!

This cooperative housing community is very Davis, very hippie. My dad didn't fit in at ALL with the people there, except for the gardening aspect. But he made the most of it and had a fun time chatting about raising (and butchering) rabbits, turkeys, and chickens and the benefits of being able to gut a deer. Who knew my dad could get along with radical college students? Life is so surprising sometimes. =)

(I can't promise I won't add some of the pictures Yumi took to this post...)

Dyani, Batiste, and Kateri arrived shortly after we got home. It was so so so fun to hang out with them, especially since Batiste is so interactive now (he's 5.5 months old). I could just suck on his pudge, oh my. All of us (even my DAD!) went to the pool for a couple of hours. When I saw that Batiste could hold his breath for a full three seconds under water, I decided that Eddie should be able to as well. So Dave and I started holding him under the water a little longer each time he jumped into the water (we always let him go all the way under). And wouldn't you know, he did just fine.

Dave brought junk food snacks from the Grocery Outlet to the pool and we all enjoyed munching on them too much. But we made up for it by eating a healthy dinner of what I called "fried egg fajitas." I sauteed red onion, red bell pepper, tomatoes, mushrooms, and chard leaves and stalks with lemon pepper and cumin. We loaded that onto warm flour tortillas, placed a fried egg on top, and then added whatever toppings we wanted (salsa, sour cream, cilantro, shredded cheese). We had corn on the cob on the side. Yum, they were GOOD.As usual it was too short of a visit and I savored every moment. I love that Batiste and Eddie get to see each other fairly often. Most of my childhood memories include at least one of the Jones children and I hope Eddie gets to have that same experience of family friends who are so close that they are like family.

It is also great that Eddie gets to see his grandparents so often. Growing up, my dad's parents were across the country so we only saw them every 2 years or so. We drank up those visits to their farm, loving every single minute and protesting when we had to leave. My mom's dad was dead long before I was born and her mother was in a nursing home most of the time. Lucky for Eddie, his grandparents are very present in his life. He sure loves his Grandpa Hal.Ah, life is darn near perfect.