Portraits of Easter

Siennalee's first real Easter basket!

Ducks are quite the celebrities in our little world. Siennalee loves a "duck duck!"

A special card from Nana and Papa came in the mail. After appreciating the front, Sienna sneaked a peek at the back - just to see if it was a Hallmark card or not.

Her Easter card from Nana & Papa had some fun stickers on it. I helped her peel 'em off and place them in the right places.



Time to don the pretty Easter dress!



Don't you miss wearing such pretty dresses?



Easter basket time!



Um, was this 'sposed to be in there?



Oh Mommie, I love duck ducks.



Duckie love.



Pretty Isabella in her Easter hat.



Visiting Gracie in her highchair. "Got anything good up there?"



I see you behind there, Auntie. You gonna fish me outta here, or what?



"Assisting" Siennalee.



Pretty little thoughts.



Pretty little girl.



Rare moments of stillness.



My brother Paul and sister-in-law Anne. Paul adores the camera.



The girlies break for a little dress up and photo op with Grammie before the big Easter egg hunt.



Time for the hunt! To the chilly outdoors we go!



Boy is it windy and chilly!



Undeterred by the cold and chill - we must find those pretty eggs!


One very sneaky egg.



How many have you found, Cousin?



Mommies make the best cheerleaders.



OOoooo! I see one!

Jessica & Jason.
Still lovin' the adventure!

Wiggle Mania

A couple weeks ago I was happily surprised with four free tickets to The Wiggles concert at the Rose Garden Memorial Coliseum in Portland. For anyone who doesn't have small children and are therefore unaware of who exactly The Wiggles are, I'll give you a brief rundown. The Wiggles are four grown men who have heeded the sometimes uncomfortable yet oh so valuable call of children's entertainment. They sing, dance, play random instruments and, best of all, have lovely Australian accents. Kids everywhere love 'em. Most parents enjoy them. My brother has banned them from his home.

Late Saturday morning, my mother, my niece Isabella, Siennalee and I all packed up and headed north to Portland for our special day of lunch out and The Wiggles concert!

My niece Isabella is a wonderfully sweet and sensitive girl with a thoughtful disposition. She has an unfortunate and quite keen dislike of loud situations. Sadly, The Wiggles were not informed of Bella's preference of quiet concerts.

So while Siennalee bounced and grooved to the first tunes of the Aussie performers, something was quietly brewing over on the other side of unsuspecting Grammie.

Something insidious. Something unfortunate. Something that makes your face red and your eyes continuously stream with giant splashy tears. Something that makes you wail loudly and despondently at the top of your three year old lungs.

It was full blown Wiggle-mania. And I don't mean the good kind. It was sad, agonizing, and downright emotionally bloody.

My daughter suddenly noticed her cousin's disgruntled state and became concerned enough to stop the dancing and move over to ascertain the situation and perhaps assist.

Siennalee could tell right away that her services were required. The Wiggles were of no more interest to her. Something more important was needed here.

Siennalee took a moment to study her cousin and then administered the best medicine known to her little 18 month old world. A kiss and a hug.

The rest of the story pales in comparison to that tender moment.

I'd love to be able to tell you that The Wiggles won out that day. But alas, they did not. Their fun songs and goofy dances could not stop my niece from insisting at the tippy top of her lungs that she be removed from this unnerving concert. And after I intercepted one or two very dirty looks from nearby mothers of children who were trying to enjoy The Wiggles with all their might, I agreed with Grammie that she should take Isabella and leave the arena.

I tried to re-engage Sienna with the concert, but she was having none of it. In fact, at a quieter moment when one Wiggle was attempting to deliver a tot-sized jocularity from his stage, my toddler bellowed (now think Streetcar Named Desire here), "BEEEEELL-LLLAAAAAAAAAHHH!" And that was that. I grabbed all coats, hats, backpacks, purses, and sippies and whisked us outta there.

The concert began at 1:30. We were homeward bound at 1:45. And that was our day with The Wiggles.

Below I include pictures of happier times, pre-Wiggles at lunch and concert seating, and post-Wiggles scampering around the Rose Garden on the way back to the car. Good times.

Happy lunch with Grammie and Auntie and Cousin.

Discovering the magical moments of dipping.

Siennalee's first big girl cup with a straw!

Yay! Our first concert!

Scampering around the Rose Garden was just as much fun as the concert!


A public water fountain! What's more fun than a public water fountain?


Oddly enough, a giant reptile was still not as unnerving as The Wiggles.


The Wiggles long forgotten.


Despite its tears and fears, the day was still counted as a success.


And all's well that ends well.

Burning Creative

As many of you know, I've recently taken up the craft of wood burning and have been enjoying it very much. My very first project was the "Kantola Family" wooden sign shown behind us in our family picture on this blog's banner. It was a surprise for Jason while he was in Kuwait. The wood is very special to our family as Jason had salvaged it from the old barn his grandfather Alvin Kantola built when he was homesteading in Donnelly, Idaho. It's a beautiful piece of barn wood.

I later made another sign, this time reading "Nunn Family" for my brother Paul after he had admired our family sign. Paul's sign then later led to my pastor's wife inquiring if I would be interested in making another sign or two for personalized wedding presents. And so began my very first non-family project.

I hope to begin adding a little more decoration to my repertoire - perhaps wheat sheaves or decorative borders. We'll see what comes out.

I've really enjoyed this new creative challenge and hope this is the start of many more projects to come!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Here in the Kantola house, we hardly need any excuse at all to celebrate. So today for St. Patrick's Day, I decided to celebrate the 1/4 Irish that flows through my veins and the 1/8 Irish that dances through Siennalee. (I don't think Jason was blessed with any of the Irish, but you just never know about that side of the family...)

So here is a glimpse of our celebration meal tonight. The menu was: Beef and Irish Stout Stew, Irish Champ (that's potatoes, green onions, milk and butter - with plenty of salt and pepper!), and Irish Soda Bread. I made a rustic apple tart with puff pastry for dessert. The only thing remotely St. Paddy's Day-ish about the tart was that I'd left the peelings on the apples (I don't recommend leaving the peels, by the way), which were green. And of course, we washed all this down with extra cold, creamy Guinness Irish Stout! YUM!

Mommie Tails

Yesterday I got a much needed hair cut and highlight. I only get them about twice a year, so it's a real treat when I sit down in that special chair in the salon! My hair was really long this time - almost as long as it was after I had Siennalee, but not nearly as thick and lustrous.

One evening Jason announced to me that he'd pulled "40 feet of hair" from the shower drain only just that morning. He pleaded with me to get my hair cut. I like to think I'm an obliging wife. So I did.

I'm now lighter in hair weight and lighter in hair color. I feel fabulous.

One hundred dollars and change never looked so good. Or at least, not til sometime late summer or early fall.

The stylist took off about 6 inches, but could've easily gone ten (of course, then my curls would've been one step closer to their ultimate goal of taking over my head... and then, the world). I'd love to donate my hair to Locks of Love, but I've gotten conflicting information on whether or not they'll actually accept my hair, since it's highlighted. Everything I've read says no, but one stylist told me to check with them first. Nevertheless, I'll be busily growing it out. Here's hoping I can grow for a good cause. Now if only I can find a organization that is in desperate need of donations of belly fat...

Baby Tails

I'm thrilled to report that not everything growing around the Kantola Farm has leaves:

As I already told some friends today (yes, this subject has occupied much of my time and energy), I'm so proud. I know these baby pigtails really look more like teeny hair extension sprouts that I glued to Siennalee's head, but I'm very VERY proud of them. My baby is suddenly looking so much like a little girl... and a bug. A cute little girl-bug with sprouty hair extension antennae.

Dreaming Green

I hail from a lineage that boasts of generations of dirt-digging, seed-planting, weed-pulling, veggie-sniffing folks who have a secret (and not so secret) love affair with watering cans, dirty gardening gloves and fresh, ripe manure in the mornings.

I'm not ashamed of these inbred compulsions (although I won't necessarily volunteer the manure thing until I know you a little better). I actually believe that this odd instinct to grub around in the dirt and grow things helped my husband fall in love with and consequently want to marry me. In fact, his first view of me was in the garden. (We know of another great love story that began this way, but in the interest of full disclosure -which I wasn't - I was semi-modestly clad in a tank top and pair of ratty cutoff shorts. Fig leaves have never suited me). I'm sure he thought to himself, "Now here's a girl who could make sure that my family will never grow hungry." Although I suspect the little cutoff shorts didn't hurt either.

So this year I found myself with a hungry workin' man, freshly delivered back from his patriotic duty in Kuwait and a ravenous, growing 1 1/2 year old girlie who cannot stop learning the names of foods so that she can clamor for them endlessly. I must feed my family. And feed my family well.

But there's a even deeper magic to be found in the garden. It goes beyond the need to fill restless hands and empty tummies. One feels closer to God in the garden. There's something about helping with life - beginning it, growing it, tending it, fighting for it, hoping for it, and then enjoying the fruits of it - that allows you to find and sit quietly beside a secret part of God's heart. Some of my best quiet times are spent vigorously weeding or carefully watering, gently tending these precious green things I've helped to grow.

So here I begin the beautiful journey of The Garden. It'll be a tale of adventure, romance, comedy, and yes, some horrors (think SLUGS) to be found along the way. And you, my faithful reader, will be subjected to it all (should you choose to continue to visit my blog, of course). I am confident that in the end, it will be a tale worth telling. A tale to be told year after year, with new challenges and championships to be found along the way. And if I am very lucky, I will be able to share pictures and posts of a beautifully producing garden, a happily fed family and an even happier gardener, wife, mama, and daughter of God - ME.

So, without further ado, please enjoy the beginnings of my dreams of green.

Little Butternut Squash plants



Tiny Roma Tomato plants



Itty bitty Basil guys - don't you just wanna pinch their cheeks?

The Itsy Bitsy Spider

Siennalee saw her first spider today. She wouldn't go near a toy that had fallen close to the web in a corner of the kitchen and my mother-in-law, who hadn't yet caught sight of the eight-legged offender, couldn't figure out why. I had noticed the spider there earlier this morning and thought perhaps that was the cause of her unease. Sure enough, Sienna had spotted it and was a bit unnerved. We called Papa (my father-in-law) over and he dispatched Spidy and we girls all cheered.

Mere moments after this first episode, a second spider scurried in from the open garage door and Siennalee sounded the alarm. Papa was again called in and Siennalee insisted on viewing the whole gruesome procedure from the safety of my arms. Papa finally stood up with the wad of tissue safely imprisoning the second villain and, relieved, Sienna looked at us wide eyed and dramatically breathed "SPI-DER!"

Her first bug. I almost cried. I love my world.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Make a free ecard - it's easy!

The Great Baby Burrito Experiment

The other evening we were relaxing together before Siennalee's bedtime and Sienna was becoming rather restless. Remembering my eldest niece's penchant for bundling her dollies, I suggested to Jason that he might show her how to wrap her baby doll. Jason thought this was a good idea and promptly located the dolly and a blanket and settled on the floor to remember his once-perfected baby bundling technique. (It was very important to introduce Siennalee to the art of baby bundling with the very best bundling techniques available.)

"Now how did we used do this?" He mused aloud, causing the little 16 month old Mommie of the baby doll to suddenly take notice of Daddy on the floor. She toddled over to examine the situation as Daddy stretched out the blanket over the floor, dozens of memories flooding his vision.

"We made a burrito..." he reminisced, not noticing Siennalee's growing agitation. Quick as lightning she leaped forward to rescue her baby and just as quick Daddy's arm shot out to block her along with, "Wait Siennalee, I'm going to show you how to wrap your baby!" (Presenting his daughter with a shoddily wrapped baby was not an option.)

This was simply not good enough and Sienna began to wail. With all her attempts to get to her doll rebuffed, she tried a new strategy: MOMMIE.

At this point, any of my energy not eaten up by mirth had been spent on grabbing the camera to document this new amusement; I was simply no help to her.

Daddy's determination to remember his wrapping techniques was matched only by Daughter's determination to rescue her baby from any possible trauma.

In the end, Jason did dust off his rusty baby wrapping skills and then Siennalee did get her baby back. Beyond that, I do believe the two were not completely satisfied with the whole experience. Fortunately, I was quite satisfied with it and am very pleased to be able to share the whole story with you, not only in my own words but also with the pictures below which are, after all, worth at least a thousand witty words.

Wait, Siennalee! Let Daddy remember how we used to do this...

Don't make me use force, Daddy!



MAAAMEEEE!!!



Bundling baby doll in peace.



Running to retrieve baby.



Extracting baby from burrito (Daddy stands by helpless to watch all his hard work undone in seconds).



Freed baby.



Now I'll try this myself. How'd you do it again, Daddy?


And the piece de resistance:

Daddy, Siennalee, & Baby Burrito from Jessica Kantola on Vimeo.