Strawberry Shakes

Our car, The CRV, has a temperature gauge that is of marginal usefulness. As Emily and I like to joke, The CRV tends to be a little dramtic when it reports the weather. This is particularly true during the summer months when the weather heats up. Perhaps The CRV has been so beaten down by the harsh, sub-zero Minnesota winters that it can hardly contain itself when it has higher temperatures to report. Today was hot -- and very humid. The mercury crept up to the lower 90s, but The CRV told us that it was 99 degrees! For whatever reason I imagine The CRV saying, 99! No really! 99 degrees guys! Can you believe it? Hot, hot hot!

This is all a long way to say that it was very hot today, and I thought it would nice to revist a cooler memory. In February we went to visit Grandma and Grandpa Ueland in Tennessee. During our visit Gus got to make and sample strawberry shakes for the first time. As you can see below, Guster loved it. Unfortunately the pictures don't capture Gus' verbal reaction. When he finally got to sample the shake after all the build up he tipped his glass back, took a big gulp, and then set his glass down and let out a loud, MMMMMM!

He was hooked; The Gus Man continues to attack shakes, malts -- really ice cream in any form with relish. It's his own way to beat the heat.

Put some strawberries in there.

A little more ice cream.

Maybe Gus should sample the ice cream to make sure it's fresh?

Is it ready yet?

How about now, Grandpa? Pretty sure it's ready.

Now?


Finally. Cheers everybody!

A little taste.
Guster likes it.

Renovation

When we bought our house two and half years ago, the kitchen was one of my least favorite parts. The cupboards had been painted a turquoise green, and it felt small and cramped. A kitchen renovation was something that we talked about, but never got around to doing. But with Gus now two years old and number two just a few months away, we decided that we better get cracking. With the invaluable help of Grandpa Ueland, a.k.a., Tennessee Grandpa, we decided to change everything but the appliances. Lots of work -- but the end result was very satisfying.

I really can't emphasize enough just how indebted we are to Grandpa. Plumbing, electrical, laying floors, and hanging cabinets -- there is nothing he can't (or didn't!) do. Thanks, Grandpa!

Here is the kitchen as it was.

Another shot of the old kitchen.

As we got started, we learned that the cabinets were of several vintages. The originals -- above Grandpa and Dad's head here, were a single piece unit. They were nailed to the wall. The floor cabinet to the left, and the wall cabinet that was above it were later additions.


Out with the blue . . . bring on the new.

Sometimes Grandpa and Dad got confused . . .

So we brought in a consultant.

Three heads are better than two.

Gus is ready to work!

That's Navy Blue -- five coats of it!

New cabinets coming are put into place. New counter top too!

Grandpa hard at work.

A job well done. In this picture: new cabinets, new counter, new sink, new floor, smiling Gus, and exhausted Grandpa.

Catching Up and Looking Back

Keeping up with Gus in his second year has proven to be a challenge as evidenced by the lack of posting on this blog. Consider this an effort to catch up.

This past Sunday night, I gave Gus his second haircut. Naturally this made me think about the first time Gus got his haircut.
Back in January, we decided that it was time for Gus to get his first haircut. Or to be more accurate – Gus decided. As his hair grew long and it started to fall into his eyes, and hang over his collar, Emily and I asked Gus whether he thought it was time for a haircut. Gus would grab some of his hair and look at us, and say, “yeah.”

So we made an appointment at Kid’s Hair – the least creative name ever – for Gus to have his ears lowered.

And it went . . . about as well as could be expected. When Gus got into the chair, he was all smiles as he got the apron tied around his neck. And from there, it kind of went downhill a bit. Gus was not a fan of having his hair wet by the spray bottle, and was not exactly sure about the whole experience of having his hair trimmed. Fortunately, he hung in there and emerged a new baby, with a new haircut.
Forward almost six months – and once again it seemed that Gus was in need of another trim. He was dangerously close to emulating his Uncle Jesse’s favored hairstyle – hockey hair, which is known by other names – most commonly, the mullet.

Rather than return to Kid’s Hair, we decided to give Gus a home haircut, and somehow it was determined that I was going to be the one wielding the scissors. I was very nervous that I would inadvertently end up giving Gus a circa-1989 Emo Phillips ‘do, but by some minor miracle, it ended up ok.

At least, my customer seemed satisfied.

Pinky

Linus had a security blanket, my goddaughter Ella has her boppies, other kids have a favorite teddy bear . . . not Guster. For the past several months, Gus has hauled around Pinky. One weekend a number of months ago, Emily and I were cleaning out the storage area and came across an infant tub. One of the attachments for the tub was this blue and pink rubber thing:



We never used the attachment with Gus before, and neither of us really knew how it worked. I have since gone online and seen pictures of the tub – apparently the attachment is used to hook plastic fish and other faux-sea dwelling creatures. Anyhow, for whatever reason Guster took a liking to this thing. And for a while, we didn’t really know what to call it. Then one day, I suggested Pinky, and Gus seemed to like that. So, Pinky it would be.

Pinky went everywhere with Gus. When we took Gus to daycare, Pinky came with. Gus would eventually put Pinky in his locker, but at the end of the day when we would go to pick him up – sometimes he was more excited that he would be reunited with Pinky than the fact that Mom and Dad were there. Gus would sprint to his locker and exclaim, “Pinky!”

Pinky went to the grocery store, to the Galleria, to both Grandma and Grandpa’s in Minnesota, and to Grandma and Grandpa’s in Tennessee. Emily and I learned to care a lot about Pinky’s whereabouts. One time we were on our way to daycare, and got a few blocks down the road, when Gus asked, “Pinky?” In the front seat Emily and I looked at each other, and then Em turned the car around and I ran inside to find Pinky. On many a morning when I would go into Gus’ room he would immediately ask for Pinky, who had invariably gotten lost during the night – either dropped out of the crib, or tucked away in some corner. In a nearsighted, sleepy stupor, I would dutifully reach down and grope the blanket and under the bumpers until my fingers felt the familiar rubber of Pinky. I would then return Pinky to the grateful embrace of Guster.

Now, just in the past few weeks, Gus has been showing signs that he is losing his Pinky dependence. He was more apt to set him down and leave him somewhere, and didn't always wake up asking for him. (Yeah – Pinky’s a him). But he still liked him, and he still went with Gus every time we left the house. So we were a bit horrified this past Saturday when the unthinkable happened – Pinky was lost. It was bedtime and Gus was asking for Pinky, and we could not find him anywhere. We searched everywhere in the house, but to not avail. We had gone to the grocery store earlier in the afternoon, so Emily and I thought he might be there, but then we remembered that Emily and Gus were playing tug-a-war with Pinky during the car ride home from the store. Emily and Gus had taken a walk earlier in the evening while I made dinner, so I thought Pinky was surely dropped somewhere outside. After Gus had bravely gone to bed without Pinky for the first time in months, I put my jacket on and retraced the path that Emily and Gus took on their walk. It was cold and dark, as I examined the snow banks lining our neighborhood sidewalks for a sign of the lost talisman. No Pinky. Oh no! I went to bed hoping that Gus didn’t feel as badly as his Dad did. I just felt like we had failed Gus by losing something that was so important to him. The next day we all took a walk retracing the same path yet again, this time hoping that we might be able to better spot Pinky by daylight. Emily and I braced for Guster’s reaction to his lost friend, but Gus took it all in stride. His peace with the absence of Pinky was aided by a new companion – Saw. Gus had taken to carrying around his wooden toy saw.

We went more than 48 hours without Pinky, but then this morning as we got ready to go, Emily grabbed a canvas bag to pack some stuff for Gus to take over to his Grandma and Grandpa’s house, and – found Pinky resting at the bottom of the bag! We all rejoiced the return of Pinky, who then accompanied Gus to Grandma’s house, and is currently nestled under a sleeping Guster’s arm. Phew.

Pinky and Gus getting ready for Bed.
Happy Valentine's Day, Pinky!Pinky and Gus take on Tennessee!

Saw -- I see you!