Archive for the ‘At Home’ Category


July 3, 2008

One of the perks of our odd little corner of Altadena: a tree that produces some of the sweetest juiciest plums on the planet every summer. Jack enjoyed them last year, but this season he is taking full ownership of the tree. He will eat as many per day as I let him, and he now views the local deer as his rival plum eaters, jumping up and down and yelling when he sees them outside.

Too bad they all come at once. We are making quantities of plum pie and plum bread, and giving them away like crazy, but we still can’t keep up with the bounty.

p.s. Happy Fourth of July!

Excuse of the day

June 13, 2008

John brought home a pile of books for Jack the other day, and he seized on the suitcase-like one with a handle and latch. He wanted me to read it to him just as I was trying to get dressed so we could leave the house. When I told him he should read it to himself for a few minutes, he replied:

“I can’t because….because I’m too short!”

Easter = pierogis

March 24, 2008


Here’s a quick rundown of our quiet Easter weekend in the canyon:

1. Made pierogis, as per Zieba family tradition. They turned out well, though we spent more time yelling at Jack to get his toy snow plow out of the flour.

2. Moved twin bed into Jack’s room. Regretted it when he woke up four times the first night and came looking for us. (It’s getting a little better with each sleep session, but we haven’t broken down the crib yet.)

3. Napped. Read entire Sunday paper for a change.

4. Cleaned up a lilac tree that blew over in last weekend’s super-strength winds.

Birthday Boy

March 5, 2008


Jack shares a birthday with Dr. Seuss, Lou Reed, and Daniel Craig (a.k.a. James Bond). He got an obscene amount of presents, and managed to forget about his ear infection for the better part of the day. The next morning, when I hugged him and said ‘now you’re a big boy!’ he started to cry and said ‘I’m not a big boy, I’m a little boy! I’m not 3, I’m 2!’ I think we’ve been using the big boy card too much in our desperation to get him off diapers. One of his favorite presents was a half-inch-tall trash truck that must come with him everywhere.