investments

Yesterday, the boys and I took a Saturday morning field trip to the car wash to get our filthy car cleaned inside and out. On the way there, we’d been listening to National Public Radio talking about financial news, and as we were pulling in and I turned off the radio, No*ah asked me, “Mama, what is a good investment?” Well, isn’t that the million billion dollar question, I thought. I didn’t quite know how to explain what the man on the radio was talking about, so I mumbled something about how it had to do with finding a good place to keep your money. As I handed the cashier my debit card, he asked, “Mama, is that a good investment?”

Today, though, sitting in church and listening to the offertory music, I realized I’d gotten it all wrong. I’d answered way too narrowly, way too literally. An investment is where you put your resources, and there is more than one way to define that. Jokes aside, there are still, and will always be all kinds of good investments, even if right now, we can’t get a good return on our money. Church and faith are, in my opinion, one of them, but so are family, friends, good food, love, art, humor, shared public institutions, an appreciation for the natural world— I could go on, but I think you get the idea. There is plenty to invest in that will give us a better and more certain return than modern market capitalism is capable of at the moment. In uncertain times like this, it’s especially worth remembering.

I had a bit of a frustrating morning at church, with too many trying transitions between the service, fellowship, Sunday School, not to mention all the potty breaks in between. As much as I love going to church, I do get tired of doing the whole morning on my own as Jo*el plays piano in a different church (not that it would be any different if we attended there), and my 2 somewhat clingy boys are getting over head colds. I was tired and impatient when I got home, and it would have been easy to spend the short time that both boys napped picking up the house and grumbling. Instead, I fed the boys lunch, J and I put them to bed, and then I invested in beets and potatoes and carrots from the garden and the Farmer’s Market.

After the boys got up, I invested in a few stories, and a good snack, and I told the boys a bit more about what I thought a good investment might be. then we enjoyed the beautiful fall weather and spent some time playing in the backyard with Jenn*fer and Z*oe.

We finally found our very first egg from this flock.

This week, I’m going to tune into a little more silence, and a little less market news. I’m going to see my writer’s group friends, and clean out our gutters and upstairs, and cook squash soup. Mea*gan will come over to turn our compost pile in exchange for said soup, and we 2 married women will catch up and talk about our investments.

some things we do at home

The boys have nursery school, their Early Childhood class, and 2.5 hours of church every week, so sometimes it's nice to just stay home.



Actually, N is much more of a homebody than his brother. The other day, after a family outing, O began his familiar refrain of "But I don't want to go home!" N said, "I can't wait!"



N is especially into crafts and blocks, but both boys love them.



The boys brought letters home to decorate and bring back to school. They stay up all year in the classroom and are used to talk about letters.



N is starting to write his own name. Both boys are picking up letter sounds and can often tells you what letter a word starts with. For O, this is really sudden--he had no interest in any of this until a couple of weeks ago, which was fine with me, but now he's starting to put real effort into cracking the code. Both boys are also really interested in counting and numbers, often adding on their fingers. They bring lots of colorful artwork home.

Playing Bingo, a nice gift from Omie

Who needs toys when you can "sail to Holland" in a cooler?



N peeled the carrots, while I sliced the last gorgeous red-picked tomato of the season. We've got many green-picked ripening well, but it's not the same.



Look, Omie--the boys love a soft boiled egg with strips of toast!

The ladies are almost old enough to lay, and we're anxiously awaiting the day.

Chickenball must always be played with mis-matched rubber boots. It's, like, a rule.

We had 28 church parents and children in our yard for a kid-friendly potluck and party last week.

The kids has a blast, especially Oli*ver, who really loves to dance.

out and about

I've just gotten somewhat caught up on pictures, so be sure to look at the 2 posts below this one too.



The boys had a good time at the church retreat. The bunk beds were a particular attraction, but they did go right to bed and sleep until morning, so that was an improvement over other recent travels.

The four of us have hardly had any time together since the end of the summer because September was so busy, but we took some time to visit the Wildflower Garden once more before it closed for the season this week. The boys were very fascinated by the picture map. Actually all maps are very interesting to them right now.







And who is this handsome man with the short hair?

cousins

Watching Auntie J*en brings back memories.

The 4 cousins are starting to become more aware of each other, which is a lot of fun. The girls are good buddies, as they spend their weekdays together, but N and O really love seeing them at family gatherings too. N talks about Zo*e all the time.



I think Z*oe and Au*gust need a couple of lassos..













The boys have gotten really brave on the tire swing , making mama a little nervous at times. While it may look like life was just grand on this beautiful fall day, the boys were actually very cranky and obnoxious this particular morning. Preschool is still going well, but there is some fallout from all the change. We've had lots of limit-testing and drama around here lately, with moods swinging like the DOW. I'm pretty used to these phases by now, though, and know they will pass. As usual, the drama comes on the cusp of many emerging new skills.



It's enough to wear anyone out.

Omie and Opa

Opa was in town on a business trip last month, and stayed an extra day and night to see us all. It was a lot of fun seeing the three of them cutting it up together.



Lucky us, Omie came a few days later and stayed for a week. She came for Mea*gan and Ph&il's wedding. I have lots of great pictures of that, but I'll wait to post them until Mea&gan has actually seen them.

We took a nice fall hike to the "Giggly Hills" by the Mississippi River.



The boys were really sad when both my dad and my mom left, which was kind of heartbreaking to see. No^ah keeps asking me how many "sleeps" there are until Christmas, when we go to the "Big Red Barn". "Many, many," I tell him. Today he followed up with, "How many sleeps until I'm old and dead?" I told him that was too many to count.

disusting

On our way in to our Early Childhood class today, we stopped in the school’s restroom. The boys have long ago decided which stall belongs to which boy, but there was a lady in one stall, so the boys took turn using the other one. N was first, and after washing his hands, he took it upon himself to grab a couple of papers hanging sticking out of my bag. “What is this, Mama?” he asked. “Nothing, N,” I said, “It’s just a letter from our bank.” “Hey, O!” he yelled across the restroom, “Mama got another letter from her bank!”

As the nice teacher exited the restroom stall and moved to wash her own hands, she looked at me a tad piteously, I thought. Poor thing – in arrears with the bank again; times are tough all over, I imagined her thinking. Now, I don’t know where N got the another part, but the letter from our bank wasn’t addressed to me personally. It was a form letter the likes of which many Americans are seeing (that is, perhaps, if they’re lucky) reassuring me that our bank is in sound fiscal health with low and broad exposure to risk. Well, good, I guess. Yeah for us.

It wasn’t until O had washed his hands too and we were actually leaving the restroom that I noticed that Noah had another piece of mail in his hand, now partly ripped open and damp with water from the sink. I glanced at the contents of the familiar-looking envelope, and noticed that it was a letter from our mortgage holder, Country*wide Ho*me Lo*ans. Country*wide bought our mortgage from the bank that first issued it, and was, at that time, America’s biggest private mortgage company. It was then taken over by Bank of Am*erica, which is now the U.S.’s largest commercial bank by market capitalization, owning what is, as far as I can tell, still America’s biggest private mortgage company.

Countryw*ide has been criticized, sued, and fined in recent years for everything from horrible treatment of Katrina survivors to widespread and aggressive predatory lending and systematic discrimination against minorities by improperly steering them to high-cost loans, in addition to internal corruption and violation of labor laws. At least ten states, including California, Texas, and Florida, worked together and filed suit against Country*wide, accusing them of unfair and deceptive practices to get homeowners to apply for risky mortgages far beyond their means. This suit was recently settled as part of the Bank of A*merica acquisition. From 2005 to 2007 Cou*ntrywide CEO Ang*elo R. M*ozilo sold much of his CFC stock, realizing $291.5 million in profits, resulting in a class-action suit being filed by shareholders alleging securities violations. In May 2008, Mo*zilo made the news by accidentally hitting "reply" instead of "forward" in response to an e-mail from a Country*wide customer under mortgage stress. His reply described the customer's plea as "disgusting".

Last month, Countryw*ide endeared itself to our little family yet more, by sending a letter to our household (and all its’ other mortgage customers) to inform that some of their employees had stolen identity information that contained social security numbers and birth dates. Co*untrywide apologized in the letter and offers free credit monitoring for 90 days. to be on the safe side, I recently applied for this thoughtful free service, and thought that perhaps the letter in my hand was a follow-up confirming our enrollment.

But no. The letter N was messing with was the same as last week’s, and the one from the week before that. It offers our family “fast cash for strapped budgets”, and suggests we call a 1-800 number as soon as possible “before time runs out” so we can consider the many flexible refinance options available to us and get quick cash in our pockets. It suggests that we refinance our perfectly good, non-ARM mortgage at an excellent interest rate, the kind that isn’t posing a great risk to either our family or our economy (as long as we don’t lose our jobs or need to move), and trade it in for a high-risk version or some cash in exchange for the little bit of home equity we have left. Because we should all feel entitled to take advantage of Country*wide’s “long standing commitment to lowering the barriers to home ownership and to educating consumers”.

The parent discussion topic today was anger. Somehow, we managed to keep the subject to the kind of anger we feel towards those we love and not those who profit from greed or run our country.

those quotable boys

No*ah yesterday, upon squirting cherry tomato seeds all down his front: "Now you need to dump some compost on me and water me with the hose!"

Later he told Ollie, in that Little Stage Director voice of his, "Now you will be my little kid!" Ollie responded with a "Baa, baa". No*ah: "Why are you making that silly noise?" Ollie: "I am your goat kid! I was playin' a joke on you!" In typical preschool once-is-funny-fifty-times-is-even-funnier fashion, they then reenacted this hilarious scene until dinner...

I am obsessed with fridge pickles, and make no pretense of ever being able to make enough to get through winter with what I make now. No, my boys and I love all things pickled -we would probably eat a pickled chair leg eventually-and once they're made, we can't leave them alone until we have a sour stomach. So I couldn't resist one more batch.

Here's the recipe -adapted from a library book recipe which suggests more honey and less salt.

Refrigerator Pickles

2/3 C Apple cider vinegar

1/3 C Water

3 T Honey

1 T Salt

1/2 C onions

3 lbs. pickling cukes or 4 med. cukes

2 T fresh dill or 2 t dried (I think dried is actually just fine)

Pepper

Boil vinegar, water, honey, salt. Remove from heat. Slice cukes and onions thinly; if using large cukes, peel in alternating stripes, slice in half, seed before slicing. Place cukes and onions in a heat proof bowl and add hot liquid. Cool. Add dill, fresh pepper and put in fridge. Let rest at least 24 hours. Will keep 2-6 months in glass jars (or 2-3 days, if you live in our household).