Just My Size

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I am not a large human and have found that kitchen gifts once given to my kids are quite useful. Here’s an inventory of my mini-utensil stash, which lives on my counter year round.

Artichoke pitcher: Made by me, in pottery class, while studying landscape architecture a few centuries ago.

Hedgehog: Hangs on for dear life, and appreciates being part of the kitchen gang.

Mini-whisks, mini-ladels: Three of them. Two of them.

Mini metal spatula (hiding behind one of the wooden spoons): Used to be for play, now for cookies and fish sticks, and most everything that comes out of our counter-top oven.

Mini-wooden spoons: These are used often, often, often. Especially for mixing fresh flour into my sourdough starter.

And did I mention the hedgehog?! I do like these little creatures and I just had to write them into The Hidden Garden, where they get to play inside the gate of the Old Man’s heart…

There’s nothing childish about being small. If you haven’t yet raided your little one’s toy kitchen, you can always write to Saint Nicholas come Christmas. 🙂

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not childish at all…

Once a week since September I have had the pleasure and delight of adding another little boy to the mix. I pick him up from school and the three of us–Ben, John Ronan and I–head out to play somewhere.We’ve hiked up to Douglas Preserve, we’ve baked cookies, we’ve braved the wind at Butterfly Beach, and this week we drove to Haskells–a favorite wild beach of mine, north, at the edge of Goleta.

I promised Silly String–my sister had sent two cans as a birthday gift–so the boys went at it. It was a messy, but incredibly fun affair.

Then, I laid a blanket in the sand and we all plopped down to enjoy chocolate chip cookies that I had baked earlier in the day. Ben was anxious for these, so I was surprised when he asked if we could all only eat one.

Why, I asked.

Are there enough for my family? he asked back.

I counted. How many will you need? 

Six.

It’s sad to admit that at first I was disappointed that I’d only get one! What a lame-o I am. But it didn’t take long for me to get past my gluttony (thank you, Lord!) and really appreciate this opportunity to give. Not only for me to give, but for Ben to be able to be the giver of good things, too.

Sure, I said in between bites, let’s pack up these extra cookies and you can bring them home to share.

Okay, so I was childish, but five-year-old Ben was not. He was thinking of others when he decided that one would be plenty for me,

and more than enough for himself.