The lost hour

My husband decided, without checking any definitive source, that last night was the night we turn our clocks back an hour. So he did.

We went to bed at our regular time, looking forward to an extra hour of sleep and to waking to daylight instead of darkness.

This morning, while I was enjoying my cappucino and reading to my son, my husband discovered Daylight Savings Time doesn't end until next Sunday. Unbeknownst to me, he began changing the numerous clocks throughout the house ahead an hour.

I checked the pendulum clock in the hallway and still had plenty of time before breakfast. So my son and I finished the book we were reading. Entering the kitchen, I glanced at the clock on the microwave. How'd that happen? I wondered, stepping up the pace to cooking breakfast.

Sitting down to hashbrowns, scrambled eggs, toast and apples, I glanced at the clock above the sink in the kitchen. I was confused by the hour I had just regained.

"I haven't gotten to that one," my husband explained.

This hike

My son and I hiked the ski trails in Chester Park yesterday morning.

We geared up -- wool socks, hiking boots, sweater/jacket, gloves, hats. I grabbed my cellphone and camera, being sure to leave enough room in my fanny pack for any "treasures" we might find. Sam grabbed his "bow and arrows," a selection of tree branches he plays with in the yard, so he could "hunt" some bear and deer.

We set off for Chester Park. I showed him my "secret" way into the park, via the trail behind the Aftenro and Northwoods Children's homes. We had fun tramping through the crunchy leaves and treading silently across fallen pine needles.

We stopped here and there to try out branches for walking sticks, snapping a few in the process. We checked out some major woodpecker damage to a tree. We paused on a bridge to throw rocks into the creek.

Once down in the bowl, we stopped for a mid-morning snack then headed to the playground. The sky darkened and air became moist. We better head home, now, I told my son.

He needed to use the bathroom back at the ski chalet first. The rain started while we were inside. We ended up calling Daddy, who rescued us from the soaking we would have gotten had we continued on home.

Our tomato harvest

I've been playing Russian roulette with my tomatoes.

Each day I bring in a shirttail full of tomatoes, mostly yellow and orange. But I keep leaving the green ones out on the vines, hoping for a few more warm days and frost-free nights. Most gardeners I know have harvested theirs already.

But as usual this time of year, the number of ripe and non-ripe tomatoes sitting on my Hoosier cabinet is growing.

We have been eating a lot of salads, grilled cheese with tomato sandwiches, and tomato and cucumber with hummus in pita. My husband has been cooking the green ones -- which stay firm and taste sweet this way -- in our Sunday morning omelettes.

And yesterday I cooked and froze a batch of basic tomato sauce. We ladled some of the still warm sauce on our cheese ravioli last night. The freshness can't be beat.

I think I will try roasted tomato sauce next.

My new comfort food

Couscous, cooked in a very light chicken broth, with shallots, dried currants, toasted pine nuts and fresh parsley.

Our bookworm

Our son, now a first-grader, read an entire book this afternoon.

It wasn't a picture book, nor an easy reader, but a 106-page chapter book called "Winter of the Ice Wizard," Number 32 in The Magic Tree House series.

He has tackled other chapter books, starting with the "Spiderwick Chronicles," which he completed over the summer. But he hadn't read a whole book in one sitting before.

He reads just about anywhere -- in his bed by headlamp after we've tucked him in for the night, sprawled across the living room floor, on a train ride with Grandma Edna, in the car, in the hammock in my brother-in-law's cabin.

His love of books comes as no surprise, considering I have read to him, and still do, every morning before breakfast and every evening before bedtime since he was born. What sometimes surprises us is the reading level of the books he selects.

We just completed JRR Tolkien's "The Hobbit," a story that continues to captivate my husband and myself, as well.

Other good reads for young boys: The Mouse and the Motorcycle, Runaway Ralph, Ralph S. Mouse (Beverly Cleary)
Henry Huggins, Henry and Ribsy (Beverly Cleary)
Kung Fu Panda: The Movie Storybook (Catherine Hapka)
National Geographic readers: Bats! Snakes! Pandas, Mummies, Storms (various authors)

Our grape harvest

Our Concord grapes were beautiful, delicious and plentiful this year. But because they have seeds, I wasn't quite sure what to do with them all.

Researching my options, I ruled out buying canning supplies and making grape jam. It just seemed to require too much of an investment of money and time for the few jars that would be produced.

I decided to freeze some. But after cutting several bunchs of the small grapes in half and removing their seeds, I decided this required too much work and time. I did get one full container in the freezer.

Ultimately, the solutions presented themselves:

I took several bunches in for "junk food" day at work. Although they didn't fit the category of junk food, my co-workers with dietary restrictions were happy someone brought something they could eat.

My son entered a bunch in his school's harvest festival, winning a red ribbon.

My husband took several bunches to a colleague who made grape jam with them. We ended up with one jar; the colleague got two.

And the birds polished off the rest.

Perfect Duluth day

We rode our bikes to Uncle Tim and Aunt Sally's house on Park Point this afternoon for a beach and barbecue outing.

The wind coming off of Lake Superior was strong, so we put lifejackets on Sam and his younger twin cousins and let them have fun jumping the huge waves. Sam struck out paddling and kicking over them, a testimony to his recent swim lessons.

Racing Mom on the bike ride along the Lakewalk back home, Sam and Daddy almost won.