tee vee.

so we were watching some family t.v. the other night before wingman's bedtime.

family t.v. watching generally isn't something we engage in unless it's sports (and that's the "royal we" for sports as *i* am usually doing something else) or family movie night. occasionally, rick steves' travel shows on PBS.

just regular ol' t.v. is rarely appropriate for the whole family, and even if the show is appropriate (food network, some shows on the learning channel, HGTV) the commercials are NOT. especially so after 6 pm.

so we were watching some inane show on HGTV about what people's houses are worth in different parts of the country and the commercials come on.

the first one starts off innocently enough. a woman, a family, they're all busy and rushing around.

it could be a stouffer's commercial, perhaps they're selling a minivan, maybe it's for chocolate?

turns out it's for birth control. an IUD in fact. and, they don't just tell you about it in long and excruciating detail, they show it to you too!

a hand is bending it and flexing the IUD to show how bendy it is? how comfortable it is? i don't know why they are showing it to us, but they are. and going on and on and on and on about this little flexible bendy comfortable thing.

then wingman, who's no dummy, pipes up all confused

"yeah. but where do you put it?"

too much on a tuesday night.

i gave him the quick and dirty, but that never satisfies the kid.

and frankly, i think it sucks that i not only have to be confronted with such a commercial in general, but especially so during what is typically and has been for generations, "family" viewing t.v. time.

i think it's just plain tacky to have some hand holding and squeezing and bending an IUD. get an examining room why don't you? leave the 7pm viewing hour to the crystal light drink mixes, the hidden valley ranches, and the michelin tire man.

moving right along to the next commercial break. this time for lipstick. it's all moving cameras and lights and strutting on the runway and high fashion. this is stylish lipstick!

so then the duke pipes up

"i don't get why they show a grown woman sucking on a lollipop to sell lipstick? and she's not even sucking on it! it's just hanging in her mouth!"

good. lord.

then this morning the duke is going through the val-pak envelope looking at all the local area coupons that came in the mail. he's saving out all the coupons he thinks we'd use as a family and recycling the rest. if he's not sure of a coupon, he asks aloud.

OMG i'm trying to wake up and the last thing i need to is to be asked a million times in a row if we need windshield repair, hearing aid visits ("maybe you'll need this one day?") or a complete easter dinner from honey baked ham!

so on about the fourth ask my voice more than conveys my irritation with this exercise.

"mama, do you want this introductory offer to the gym?"

"no. no i don't"

he misinterprets my irritation and says all quickly

"oh! not because i think you're fat!"

"i know honey"

"because you're not fat! really!"

sigh. and lookee here. it's not even 10:30 am.

in other news y'all be happy to know that i've finished the hobbit!!! just in time, and with time to spare for today's book club.

for all my fussing, it turns out it was an enjoyable read. i knew it wouldn't be bad, i just need to have something to complain about.

i doubt i'll be reading the lord of the rings trilogy, but, one never knows. perhaps one day i'll find myself imprisoned and have nothing. else. to. read.

the thing is, reading the hobbit just further confirms that however packaged, there are truly no new ideas. virtually everything i have read in that genre seems to have been heavily influenced by if not cleverly copied from the hobbit.

well, they do say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

i suppose that will just have to do.

x.

@#$%!* hobbit!

so due to some screwy mix-up, book club is this week, not last.

having found this out last week just in time, i was able to abandon my worries about the hobbit. for the moment.

then, i got sick on friday and saturday. and having exhausted my supply of library books at that point, i begrudgingly cracked open the hobbit.

oh, and wouldn't you know in this house we have FOUR copies to choose from. so i chose the handsomely illustrated one thinking it would help. it didn't.

the first page was all this and that and runes and symbols and maps and blah blah blah. i was lying in bed in my room when i said aloud

"thorin oakenshield. oh. great. this oughta be good"

when all of a sudden i hear piping up from what i thought was the boybarian's empty room

"WHAT! you're only on the first page?!?"

the duke of fun. leader of this month's book club. chooser of the hobbit. has read the book, but read it again anyway for the club. is finished with the book, has been for a week. is irritated and incredulous.

oops. so i say

"well, now, i read fast. i could probably finish it today if i wanted to. which. i .don't. besides, honey, you have to understand, it's really not my cup of tea"

so he comes into my room, hands on his bony little hips all fired up

"well, why did you even join the book club if you weren't even going to read the book! gah!"

and then he left.

well that's not fair! i AM reading the book! sure, yeah, the book we were supposed to have discussed two days prior so i guess technically i should have already maybe started.

except i found out we had another week! doesn't that count for something!

kids these days, i swear.

x.

i'm either really smart or really stupid.

ah, parenting. an experience that cannot be matched. an experience that is not for the faint of heart.

so, it's come to pass that i pay the duke of fun 2$ a room to sweep and mop. the deal is, he has to sweep and mop the rooms i choose, when i choose them to be done. like he can't just do the kitchen or another room whenever he wants for a quick 2 bucks.

today, for instance, he is sweeping and mopping the dining room, the kitchen, the living room, and the bathroom.

it's also come to pass that i pay wingman 1.50 a load for folding and putting away a whole load of towels, washcloths, dish towels, and cloth napkins. he even rolls the washcloths just the way i like them.

today, for instance, he is doing two loads and is eager to get his money in hand.

i realize that as a parent, it's perfectly well within my GOD GIVEN AND MORE THAN EARNED RIGHT to force these children to do these tasks.

BUT, they already both have daily chores they must do, without pay, just to contribute to the household.

AND, since i've hurt my back, sweeping and mopping are out for now, and i CANNOT STAND folding and putting away. i can do laundry like a champ and pile it to the ceiling, it's the folding and putting away that gets me.

so, i'm either smart or really stupid for paying to get these chores done each week.

but, i've sure got some clean floors and there's no laundry mountain on my couch.

and i'm sitting here with you, a cup of coffee, and some peace and quiet while the boybarians toil away.

and, there's NOT ONE COMPLAINT AND THEY ARE MORE THAN HAPPY TO DO IT BECAUSE THEY ARE GETTING PAID.

not bad for 11 bucks, huh?

and at count, wingman has 98$ in his bank account if he counts the 3$ he just made. and he's DYING to get to 100$ so he's BEGGING me for another job that might earn him 2 more dollars.

aaanndd i think i just answered my earlier query.

and sillymortalmama says HA!

some days i really do come out right on top.

x.

one more chance NOT to read the hobbit.

so, i hurt my back.

i bent to pick up a pillow and BOOM! my back just spasmed and went.

it's only been in the past year i have had trouble with my back. it's always been my neck. but since i've been working on my neck and have had little trouble with that this year, my lower back seems to have taken my neck's pain and claimed it as its own.

anyhow, it's been terrible. the lower back is a very inconvenient place to be injured. i can't sit or stand or lie down without being in pain.

walking is an exercise in horribleness for me and hilariousness for those around me. i look exactly like fred sanford, only more stooped over.

we have one recliner that gives me support and comfort. so i've largely been planted to past few days.

the duke says i should get a motorized chair.

"you know, mama, a rascal. like those oldsters drive"

and isn't it funny how when you can't be active, you are physically unable to be active, is when you most want to eat piles of cheese and gallons of wine and buckets of fried food?

darwinism takes a holiday.

anyhow, this week is another busy week. with the added benefit of the duke of fun leading our home school group's first book club.

and what does he choose? the hobbit. i've spent 36 years NOT reading the hobbit and now i have to. and i haven't started yet. i hear it takes forever to read. and since i've got all of two days to read it, i suppose i ought to start it.

sigh.

wait? WAIT! isn't there a movie?

there's a movie! i'm almost sure of it! of course i'd have to watch it when the duke's not around.

now all i've got to do is rascal my way down to the video store and i'm good.

whew. that was close.

x.

friday still means something somewhere in the world.

this has been a long and busy week.

the duke was sick. the WORST sick person ever! there's nothing worse than someone lying around the house moaning "i NEED sushi!" "can we order mexican food?" "could you make me something to eat? like a burger with french fries? or some indian food?"

he's an insatiable bottomless pit of specific food need when he's sick. i am so glad he's a boy and therefore i will never have to experience him pregnant.

then the duke got better.

then we went on a field trip.

that's about it.

except now it's the weekend. if only friday signaled the beginning of some downtime like it used to.

the lord of the ring returns from his business trip, we've got to count birds for the great backyard bird count and have a birthday party across the pond. then there's family movie night and weekend cleaning.

if only getting sick meant i'd get a break i'd try it.

in the meantime there's a new wine blog up and i've got a few waiting in the wings. if you end up trying any of the bottles, leave a comment with your thoughts. i'd love to know what you think.

enjoy your friday!

x.

the wife is always the last to know.

so the duke of fun and the lord of the ring made it to the caucus on saturday.

wingman and i were going to meet them there, but we got a late start, got lost, and then couldn't find parking. by the time we were circling for the fifth time, the lord of the ring called from inside to say registration had closed.

bummer.

we went for donuts and paid a visit to the wine shop instead.

so, long story short, the lord of the ring is now an alternate delegate for our precinct.

only, in telling me about the caucus, he didn't mention that little detail.

so later, his mother called and we were chatting about the caucus and she said "so i hear my son is a delegate" or something to that affect.

i couldn't figure out what she was talking about and just figured she had no idea about what went on in a caucus. even though SHE herself had just been to one. (note to self: get mother in law omega-3 oils and some brain exercising puzzles)

so i get off the phone and say

"i don't think your mother understands what a caucus is"

"why do you say that?"

"she was just talking to me about you being a delegate or something like that. i don't know, but i don't think she gets it"

"oh. no, she does. i am a delegate. well, an alternate delegate"

"what?!? what are you talking about?"

"for our precinct there are two delegates. if one of them can't make it, i'm the alternate"

"and you were going to mention this when?"

"i just spaced it. busy day"

"i can't believe you didn't say something earlier. what else are you not telling me?"

"well, i got two pairs of pants hemmed last week"

"what?!? by who? you've never gone to get pants hemmed before!"

"at the dry cleaners in town. it wasn't cheap either"

"it's like i don't know you at all"

x.

and by pocket flashlight he better mean pocket flashlight.

me: duke! come downstairs and grab this stuff and put it away!!!

me to the lortr: you always think it will be years away that your precious baby starts carrying around an altoids tin

lotr: no doubt, with a knife that from far away looks suspiciously like a lighter

i feel old and jaded.

or maybe i just miss my youth. and the good old days when you didn't have to worry that the altoids tin and lighter might belong to your kid.

though, for the record, i never carried an altoids tin or a lighter.

and for the record, the duke has that altoids tin full of altoids until they are gone. then he's going to use the tin to make a pocket flashlight that he read about.

though i joke about it now, in a few short years little signs and clues would be just that. signs and clues that it isn't time to joke.

and i am under no illusion that any kid is immune to the temptations of the world and the tide of their friends choices.

the trick, at least i think it still is, is to keep an open mind and an open heart and an open ear.

listen first, lecture last.

that's my plan and i'm stickin' to it.

x.

and by enthusiasm she meant crazy.

so i write my wine blog at night because i have to "review" the wine. and call it what you will, any amount of "reviewing" during the day just becomes the makings of an after school special.

so i was writing my blog last night when the phone rang. i don't like to answer the phone when i'm writing because it is a major distraction and i can only half pay attention and because i'm distracted and inattentive i sound to the caller like i am drunk.

then you add wine blog "reviewing" to that and well, you get the picture.

so i checked the caller id just to see if it was "important" and i noticed the number looked a lot like my sister's husband's number and i thought that odd because he never calls me directly and so i answered it.

i was slightly manic-y answering because i thought something might be wrong with my sister and i was still one half of my brain in my blog and a glass into my "review"

it wasn't my sister's husband.

it was the summer camp the duke goes to. a very perky girl was letting me know they were having their fund drive for donations for kids whose parents can't afford all the cost of camp.

i didn't tell her sure! sign me up for the donations! seriously, that camp ain't cheap!

but i listened to her spiel and then she let me know the duke had been in her unit and what a cool kid he was and all chatted me up so i chatted her back still half in my writing and still one glass into my "reviewing" and the call came to a close with her saying

"okay, we'll send you some paperwork and you can look it over and think about whether you want to donate or not. and um, thank you for your, um, enthusiasm"

and you know right then in the duke's camp file next to "mother's name" she was writing crazy!!

double underlined.

in other news, last night while following the super tuesday results i was watching an interview with huckabee who was doing rather well for himself vote wise.

the interviewer said something along the lines of "what do you attribute to your success to? what do you think mccain's campaign has to do with this?"

huckabee responded with something like

"this has nothing to do with anything other than more people voted for me than voted for the other guy. it's a simple as that and it has nothing to do with any other campaign. i got the most votes, i got the state"

you go there mike! i cannot stand when political pundits get all pundity. so huckabee got more votes than mccain? why does he have to defend that? or explain himself? or comment on the strategy and campaigns of everyone else as it relates to his surprise success?

all right enough of that, i've got a big day and i've got to get crackin'!

and by big day and get crackin' i mean it's time for a cup of coffee and spelling. then grammar. then perhaps another cup of coffee.

why nobody shoves a microphone into my face and grills me on my success i'll never figure out.

x.

what not taking 11 million bucks gets ya nowadays.

ryuta kawashima, the guy behind the hugely popular "brain age" games for nintendo ds declined to accept his 11 million dollar royalty from the sales of the games. instead he donated his share to construction projects on the campus of the japanese university he works for.

"My hobby is work," he said. "Everyone in my family is mad at me but I tell them that if they want money, go out and earn it."

amen.

oh wouldn't i love 11 million dollars!!! BUT, and i am sure about this and not just being a smug ass, i wouldn't want it UNTIL after my boybarians were much older and had started to make their own way in the world.

because there are a LOT of ways to fuck up a kid. but i think a real quick way is for them to get the idea that based on their family finances that perhaps what they do doesn't really matter in the grand scheme because they will eventually have all the money they will ever need no matter what.

it's a generalization, sure. but one i'm fairly comfortable making and sticking to.

(it just means if i ever win the lottery i'm not tellin' a soul!)

he also has four sons who are not allowed video game playing on weekdays and only an hour on the weekends.

bill gates lets his daughter have 45 minutes a day of screen/computer time on weekdays, an hour on the weekends.

bully for them. hey, we have computer and N64 time around here, don't get me wrong. daily except sundays. and you'd think it was a national tradgedy for some people to miss it.

cue dramatic eyeroll.

BUT it is limited for each boy. the duke at 10 gets one hour total. wingman at 7 gets 30 minutes.

there have been exceptions to this here and there. sure. but on a continuous basis, bottom line is the time limits are adhered to. if not, the consequence is that there is no time at all.

and while wingman has minutes to add as he gets older, sadly, the duke has yet to be informed that one hour is the cap for the next few years and beyond.

if you ever feel a distinct and horrific disturbance in the atmosphere in the near future and you can't quite put your finger on it, know that the duke has finally been fully informed of this fact.

i think each parent has the right to handle the whole tv/computer/video screen time deal the way they see fit.

i just like it when the guys responsible for all of this also talk openly about the responsibility they take with screen time and their own kids.

it's admirable, and just perhaps might be enlightening and influential enough to convince parents who haven't already to look into the idea of imposing limits on screen time in their own homes.

all good things in moderation.

except wine. of course.

x.

what 4 bucks gets ya nowadays.

you know you live in a smallish weird kinda place when you go to the local symphony orchestra concert to hear a little beethoven and you are confronted with a sign in the lobby of the high school performing arts building that says

WRESTLING ------->

SYMPHONY <-------

in others news, we had a young friend spend the night on saturday, and as he lives across the pond he needed to be ferried home on sunday. the duke, wingman, and the lord of the ring all went.

while on the ferry, the duke split the 4$ he had with the friend and wingman so that they could all have a turn playing the video game and then spent the last dollar on a vending machine snack he split three ways.

the lord of the ring reported he did this all on his own, without prompting, and was more than happy to do so.

i was so impressed, i told him so and said i would like to give him the 4$ back from my own wallet just for being so generous. i know he's saving (or trying to) for stuff so i just thought it would be a nice gesture.

so i gave him the 4$ and not two hours later he came up and told me he'd like to put the money into our tzedakah box (charity) instead of keeping it.

and these are the simple moments that remind me to let out that breath i always forget i'm holding because he's gonna be just fine.

x.

how's about some ham with your mustard sandwich?

if you ever have wingman make you a sandwich, be sure to first thoroughly examine your feelings about yellow mustard.

just sayin' is all.

x.

business etiquette 101.

a bedroom furniture primer
by sillymortalmama

dresser is english.

chest of drawers is british.

near as i can figure, they distinguish the two here by referring to the low and long piece with or without attached mirror as a dresser. with the tall and narrower piece being called the chest of drawers.

or chester drawers if you must and no one taught you better.

in other news, i finally got the call to pickup wingman's math books (one text, one workbook) and the teacher's manual for the duke's new math book.

not only did i have to wait THREE TIMES AS LONG to receive said books, she jacked the prices up by nearly 25% from what i always have paid when ordering it!

(i have always ordered it full price directly from the publisher)

now, i'm all for shopping locally (though she is a franchise) but seriously! if you're gonna be more expensive, then have a good ready stock available in store or really fast shipping and get it to me! if you're gonna be all slow and shit, then don't jack up the price!

the whole act globally, shop locally thing is a two way street. we've all got to help one another out. no relationship, business or otherwise, should ever be taken for granted.

make it somewhat worth it to come to your store. don't make me suffer to patronize your business.

and while we are on the subject, i don't give a rat's ass if you're hungry or haven't had a break or whatever. i really don't want to deal with you while you have a plate of garlicky caeser salad with a big hunk of salmon on top it at the counter munching away between customers.

it's odd behavior in a place of business. okay you're hungry, but let's put it in perspective. a coffee, a luna bar, a smoothie, a handful of nuts, that kind of thing i can see tucked away and discretely nibbled or sipped on here and there.

but you're running a business lady, not hanging out in your living room, or lunching at the neighborhood bistro. don't make me watch you, hear you, and smell you eat your lunch.

especially if you're gonna charge me 25% more to do so.

new wine blog tonight. i'd do it now, but really, it's still the morning. a bit more bukowski than even i can muster.

x.

did you know there is a difference between a dresser and a chest of drawers?

so the lord of the ring and i made one bold step closer to being actual adults and bought a dresser.

a real dresser. a new dresser.

i wonder if i took a poll of my generation how many would say they don't actually have a dresser? not something that is actually meant to be used as something else, but a real dresser?

anyhow, to achieve this we had to go to the furniture store. furniture stores are slightly weird in that they ARE HUMONGOUS and eerily silent. practically deserted, yet filled to the rafters with whole "rooms" set up and decorated within an inch of their lives.

and just so you know, i looked and looked and looked on craigslist and in consignment stores and goodwill to find a used dresser to no avail. not only was i not successful in my attempt, i have never seen so many ugly ass dirty pieces of furniture in my life.

so, that's the reason for the trip to the furniture store.

and the reason for this explanation is that buying brand new never been used by someone else furniture feels very odd. like i'm getting away with something i shouldn't be. like somewhere someone is recording this in my permanent carbon footprint file.

anyway, it was just our luck we got the resident bitch for our sales person.

"are you looking at the dresser or the chest of drawers?"

"oh, i didn't realize they were called different things"

"mm. well. they are."

and she gives me that look that you have to be in your late 50's and bitter to perfect.

so she gets us all rung up and whatnot and somehow it comes up that we home school. she seems surprised by this. then she proceeds to put her hand over mine and leans in and says

"no offense, but aren't the schools on the island good enough for you?"

"well, the voices in my head tell me they aren't"

okay, so i didn't say that. but only because i didn't think of it until later.

what a bitch.

i did say

"well, first of all we don't live on the island so i wouldn't know about the schools. and second of all this isn't about the schools, it's about the best decision for our family"

and i can't stand when someone says "no offense" because what they might as well be saying is "i am now going to be offensive. brace yourself"

when i find myself explaining myself to complete idiots it always makes me feel cheapened in some way.

i just wish i could remember that "why, that's none of your business now is it?" is perfectly acceptable and i daresay more than called for in some circumstances.

in the meantime, besides propelling us to adulthood, the dresser also means i have to fold my clothes and put them away and no longer have an excuse not to.

bummer.

x.

wednesday.

i've been on craigslist A LOT in the past few months. the lost&found and pets categories mostly. i'm still looking for a certain someone,




and i figured that since craigslist got me into this mess ("fixed" cats, both pregnant. thanks, craig), perhaps it might get me out by my posting a lost ad and looking at the found ones.

so far, no luck. no yancey. but i am hopeful.

except i did have one "helpful" e-mail that suggested that my missing kitty would respond to the smell of whoever it was closest to. (that would be me) this helpful cat person then suggested that i pee in a bottle and then sprinkle the urine around the perimeter of my property to attract the lost kitty back home.

i've peed in a lot of places. i've peed in every yard i've ever owned, i've peed in my pants, and i've peed in a million cups at the gynecologist's office, just one at the mexico-texas border, and in the backseat of a car (32 ouncer) going down the freeway at 80 miles an hour.

"oops" never sounded so frighteningly telling than it did that day to the poor friend driving.

having camped and backpacked and road-tripped my way down the coast, over the mountains, and across the country, i'm not shy about peeing without the benefit of porcelain beneath me.

BUT, there is something about deliberately peeing into a bottle (did she suggest a spray bottle? a water bottle? i can't remember) and then taking said pee and sprinkling it around the perimeter of my property.

"howdy neighbor! fine day for SPILLING MY URINE NEXT TO YOUR DRIVEWAY. whoops! better move aside!"

first off, my property is not small so i would need a big bottle and a hell of a lot of pee.

and second, our property banks up against property belonging to the united states government. property cut off with a VERY DEFINED AND DESIGNATED easement, huge ass fence topped with razor wire, with a well patrolled by well armed soldiers frontage road on the other side.

i can see me up on the hill, jug of urine in hand bending to my task when the patrol swings by.

what, really, would one say? what would possibly be a plausible excuse in this day and age for brandishing a jug of urine so near an important government property?

if you can't take a bottle of water onto the plane, i'm pretty sure you can't haul around a big jug of your own urine up by a the fence line of a united states government property.

sure, i doubt it's some federal crime, but i'm sure it would be frowned upon at the least, and incur some amount of questioning.

and if there wasn't a "file" already, there certainly would be now.

i love my kitty and miss him terribly. but no. i'm not peeing in a bottle or a jug or anything else and sprinkling it around my property.

though, judging from some of those craigslist folks and their ads in other more specific categories, that sort of behavior just might be the ticket to getting myself some dates should i find myself in need of one.

x.

this is what i get for being cheap.

so you may remember wingman's enthusiasm over getting a new math book? and they were out, so we had to wait for them to order the new one?

well it's been awhile now and i would have already had it if i had just ordered it myself. but i ordered a text and a teacher's manual for the duke's new math book, too, so i figured i'd save myself the shipping by having our home school resource store order it.

and as a result of this brilliant financial move, i've spent the last two weeks making up my own math lessons for wingman. which isn't rocket science, i did it for a few years with the duke and it's first grade for crying out loud. but it's just one. more. thing. to. think. about. and. then. do.

and the whining. at least with the book when he's not into his math (which is very rare) it's the book's fault and even he senses there's no point whining at a book. when he doesn't want to do math and it's my activity/worksheet/project it's my fault and the whine is on.

yeah. that 6 bucks i saved was SO worth it.

today i gave him our tray of fake money and made him count out amounts of money using different combinations of paper money and coins.

god you'd have thought i told him to paint the house.

i came in to the room he was working in to him whining

"thhhiiiiiiiiisssss iiiisssss ttttoooooooo haaaaarrrdddd"

"says the kid who gets to sit in the sunny patch on the floor in shorts and a t-shirt in the middle of winter eating birthday chocolate during math time"

"well, it is"

"is it really too hard, or do you just not want to do it?"

"i don't want to do it and that mmmmmaaaaaaaaaakes iiiiitttt toooooooooo hard"

"well maybe if you actually did it, you would see it's not too hard?"

"it IS too hard"

"says the kid who hasn't even tried. cry me a river. now do your math"

good lord i went right to the phone and called the store. the owner said tomorrow or the next day for the book. she must have heard some note in my voice or must have some experience with on the edge homeschooling parents because she said real slow and deliberate like

"don't worry. i assure you we'll call you. it's gonna be here soon!"

it had better be. or else i'll have wingman counting out the change necessary to take the bus to the home school resource store and hang out there until it does.

x.

monday.

yesterday we went into the big city to celebrate wingman's 7th birthday. he wanted to choose something for his birthday from the big cool toy store downtown and just walk around.

when we were on the ferry the duke of fun was trying to convince him of something that wasn't true. so wingman said

"you're just pulling my goat!"

either he's been watching too much borat, or what he meant to say was you are pulling my leg or you are just trying to get my goat.

whatever he does, that kid keeps us in stitches.

we are right in the thick of school, finishing several books and starting new ones. it's right about now i'd like to take a break and right about now that is never possible. though i have to say, even though it represents more work on my part, there is still something a bit thrilling in starting a new book for school.

the idea of "possibility" never really gets old.

well, i'm off. may your week go well and your goat not get pulled.

x.

wine blog.

because apparently i have nothing better to do with my time, i've started a new blog.

it's call the fifth food group, and it's all about wine. well, it's all about the wine i drink.

i don't pretend to have actual real knowledge of wine, i just drink it. and now i will drink it and let you know what i think.

you can find it here

http://thefifthfoodgroup.blogspot.com

or you can just click the link at the top right of this page.

salud!

x.

duh.

a university in england conducted a study on how to improve the look of children's hospital wards and make them more inviting and just published it in Nursing Standard Magazine.

the results are in and i quote

"We found clowns are universally disliked by children. Some found them quite frightening..."

no. shit.

i'm glad they spent money on that because how would we ever have guessed that clowns are actually creepy?

(i'll let you in on a little secret, some of us did guess)

remember this little snippet about the duke?

or the bag lady in paris' questionable, but no doubt effective, babysitting practices?

now, if we could just get someone to spend money on studying something important.

like how in the hell is one supposed to extract a toy/item from the new rigid clamshell packaging with a pair of common household scissors WITHOUT scraping, gouging, or cutting your hands and/or damaging the item inside in the process?

x.

if i ever invite you over for gumbo, say you're busy. trust me.

so the little black kitty did not go for the rabbit. no how, no way.

in fact, all the cats turned their noses up at it except the hefty siamese. who licked the bowl clean after finishing his own dinner and now has taken to hanging around the kitchen even more than he used to.

what a surprise.

now what am i going to do with all that ground up rabbit in my freezer? i can't feed it to just the siamese because he's gonna get used to it and i don't want to put up with him being all sassy about the regular food when the rabbit's all gone.

what the hell, i've already got two placentas in there. along with about 8 years worth of unidentifiable frozen items. what difference will 2 lbs. of ground up rabbit make?

fyi for any of you who come to my home...best to bring along your own ice if you're prone to a delicate stomach about dead ground up animals, organs that used to be inside my body, or bags of vegetables and what appears to be the gumbo i made in '03 frozen within an inch of their lives sharing space with the ice cubes meant for your cool and refreshing beverage.

in other news, wingman turns seven this week. i'm not going to go into a whole big emotional tirade about how in the world my baby could already be seven and all that but just assume that's all implied.

the real story here is about the duke. and what an incredibly loving and generous and cool kid he's becoming.

sometime a few weeks ago he came to me and said he wanted to get wingman a birthday gift this year. he's never really given it much thought before, but this year he's determined. not only that, he's willing to spend his own money.

"and mama, i want to get a cool gift bag and a real birthday card"

so, with some leading questions and a recon. mission to a few stores, the duke has figured out what wingman really wants. he got his money together and had the lord of the ring to take him to this little store in the mall.

and good lord to have video taped his face when he came back.

priceless.

he had them wrap the item at the store in a big gift bag with ribbons and tissue and he bought a card. after figuring out that wingman was safely engaged in the back of the house he came running across the yard with his gift and a big ol' smile. he was so proud. just beaming when he showed me the bag.

he also showed me the card before he filled it out. it's this 50's kid grinning over a huge table laden with all kinds of sweets. inside it says

Thankfully for little Robbie, this is the 1950's before we all knew enough to be concerned about cholesterol, high blood pressure, and obesity.

Happy Birthday!

i can't pretend to know what goes through that kid's head. but i'm glad getting that gift for wingman brought so much joy to him. that really is very cool.

moving right along to a library funny.

there's a back way into the library. it involves an elevator or flight of stairs that end at the library's back door. when you open the door it opens in. and because it needs to be easy to open to suit all the patrons, when you push it open it automatically continues to open. then a few seconds later it automatically swings closed.

the problem is, there's a book shelf right where the door swings open. which is fine. unless one is standing in front of the book shelf looking for a book. and if one is unaware and standing right in the right spot looking for a book, or worse yet crouched down in the right spot looking for a book on the lower shelf then the door opens with a great smack right into your person.

and better yet, you'll never guess where all the feng shui books are shelved.

yup.

that's some bad juju right there.

x.

little bunny foo foo hopping from the freezer.

so wingman came up with a viable recipe.

and while i am certain it's not "original" he doesn't know that and it is creative.

cookie dough pizza
by wingman

you take one batch of sugar cookie dough and roll into to one big cookie

bake it in oven

when it's cool spread the top with yellow frosting (for the cheese)

then sprinkle chocolate chips on top (for the pepperoni)

optional:

you can sprinkle yellow sprinkles on top if you want to. for more cheese. or you don't have to.

not bad. i'm a little concerned about the stability of such a large sugar cookie, and the frosting on top of a sugar cookie sounds tooth shatteringly sweet, but hey, he doesn't need to know any of that.

and good lord at least it's not one of the many meat, milk, microwave combos he was favoring early on.

in other wingman doins', he's decided to make up his own "bad words" which he then uses on a regular basis.

his latest one is "holybob"

"it's a really bad word. i won't use it too often"

and if there's anything else to say about that i don't know what it is.

and finally we come to our little black kitty. i could go on and on about the issues we have with this kitty. but she is so darned sweet i'll just leave it at "issues" and not talk shit about her. and trust me when i say shit, i'm not just being jerky and potty mouthed.

so in my research and attempt to find the best way to treat her condition i am at the stage of experimentation with a raw food diet for her.

you may remember my earlier brush with the consideration of a raw food diet for cats?

well now i am considering it for just the one cat. which provides its own logistical nightmares for feeding a pack of cats when one is having something different from all the others, but i need to get my kitty well.

so, in that spirit yesterday i went and picked up my whole ground up rabbit. frozen in a 2 pound chub.

and, if the rabbit doesn't suit her, why they've got quail too! actually, they've got chicken and venison as well, but the rabbit and the quail are the only animals they have that are ground whole. bone, organ, skin, etc. so the nutrients are complete for an obligate carnivore. (cat)

you defrost the chub in the fridge over night, parcel out the servings into individual plastic bags, put all the individual plastic bags into a freezer safe bag/container and just remove the servings you'll need for the next day the day before to the refrigerator for defrosting.

when you take a serving out of the fridge at feeding time, you run the bag under gently warm water for a brief time. enough to bring it to room temp, no hotter.

basically you are heating the raw meat to the temperature of a freshly killed rodent.

mmmmm.

you put this deliciousness into a bowl and she eats it.

(as an aside, i bet she doesn't eat it. i just bet she. won't. go. for. it. but that's just my natural sunny optimism peeking out to say hello)

you toss out whatever she doesn't finish and wash up the bowl right away.

yeah. oh, yeah, i have this kind of time just sitting around waiting for a kicky new fun project.

i don't.

but, i chose to keep this animal and thus i am responsible for her. and she is ill and i will do whatever i can to help her. raw rabbits and all.

plus, let's face it, you can't buy material like this for a blog.

and lucky me, just when i was running out of things to write about.

x

from the test kitchen.

so wingman wants to invent a recipe. he's been thinking about it a lot today.

just awhile ago he came up to me and said

"what about i take like ground meat and some carrots and some milk and some cheese and i mix it up and cook it?"

"well, without the cheese, that sounds very close to a mixture for swedish meatballs. remember, like we had at ikea?"

"oh yeah. darnit!"

so he went away and came back later and said

"okay what about like cheese and i mix it with like some liquid and put some bread around it and like put it in a bowl and cook it in the microwave. or the oven?"

"that sounds a lot like a dish called welsh rabbit. there's no rabbit, though. it's a melted, cooked cheese sauce that is poured over a thick slice of toasted wheat bread and eaten with a knife and fork."

"DANGIT!"

i gave him the cookbooks i got from the library for him to come up with a menu for us to make for dinner, but he's not having any part of it. he's determined to make up a recipe, cook it, and have us eat it.

gulp.

oh well, if i could eat the undercooked chicken as a STAUNCH VEGETARIAN just because i didn't want to offend the 90 year old woman serving it to me lo those many years ago then i can do this.

wish me luck and an abundance of wine.

x.

a slice of a tuesday here at the big red house.

"mama, where's the thesaurus? it's not on the shelf"

"try looking behind the bug eating plants"

x.

i really don't know clouds at all.

the boybarians and i studied clouds and weather at the beginning of fall.

yesterday on the way to the store we went through a bank of fog and i just couldn't remember what kind of cloud could sit on the ground and be fog.

the boybarians remembered, but my addled brain couldn't.

so i made myself a little cloud primer, and now i will share it with you.

STRATUS~ in latin means layer. can sit on the ground and be fog.

CUMULUS~ in latin means heap. cotton ball clouds when sunny, menacing clouds when stormy

CIRRUS~ in latin means hair. high, wispy, feathery clouds.

and now i hope you don't have that judy collins song stuck in your head all day.

in other news, the duke found an old letter he got a few years ago.

he comes running in and says all excitedly

"mama, look how old this letter is! i mean, look! a 37 cent stamp! that's old!"

dear lord, please just find me a quiet spot to park my walker and ride out my child's adolescence.

x.

and people wonder why i consider red wine the fifth food group.

so wingman finished his math book on monday.

on his own, in his bed, before getting out and before everyone else was awake, i might add. he must have taken it to bed with him just for this purpose. we can only hope this enthusiasm continues.

anyhow, since monday he has been bugging me to go to the home school resource store for the next book.

we couldn't go monday. tuesday was a holiday and they were closed. wednesday we had school and errands and piano in the opposite direction. thursday i got some fever of unknown origin and after school took the rest of the day "off".

so that leaves today. and this morning before the sun was up he was right at my face asking to go and get his new math book.

fine. let me wake up.

how about now?

let me have coffee.

what about now?

let me have breakfast and check e-mail.

now?

soon.

not 5 minutes ago i said

"hey wingman, go get dressed and we'll go get your new math book, okay?"

"do i have to come with you?"

oh. my. god. seriously?

is he gaslighting me or what?

all i'm sayin' is it's a good thing i'm already nuts because i might have a bone to pick with him otherwise.

in other news, my father once told the duke that a boy was ready for a knife when a boy knows how to whistle.

this has been something the duke held on to for about the last year.

guess what boy knows how to whistle now?

guess what boy just got a knife?

more adventures to come, i'm sure.

x.

grammar 101.

home schooled kids aren't always geniuses.

the home schooling mother isn't always patient.

and at times without benefit of quarterly report cards or outside review it's kinda hard to see "where we're at."

but then real life intervenes and you get a glimpse and then this sillymortalmama's breathing gets a bit easier. for a time at least.

case in point.

the lord of the ring and i received two unprompted thank you notes this week.

the first from the duke of fun.

Dear Mama and Papa,

Thank you for the N64. Me and Wingman and I really like it.

Love, The Duke

not a day later i got the following from wingman.

to PAPA AnD MAMA

thAnk you For the N64. The DuKe AnD I ReALLy Like It.

Love
WiNgman.

i know it doesn't seem like it, but they wrote those independent of one another. and, upper case and lower case issues aside, what these notes serve to illustrate is not only do we have appreciative and sweet boys, but that the whole when to use I and when to use Me issue is apparently NOT an issue for them.

(and that their parents are lucky bastards in that their gamble that an 11 year old 25$ on e-bay gaming system as their big ticket christmas gift would make them as ecstatically happy as it did. whew.)

back to the issue at hand, i have to say, this really pleases an old grammar curmudgeon like me.

because we all know the whole I and Me issue is a bit of a sticky wicket.

the quick and dirty of it all is as follows;

when you are talking about yourself and someone else THE OTHER PERSON IS ALWAYS MENTIONED FIRST and if you and that someone else are at the beginning of the sentence then it's I.

The Duke and I went to the store.

The King and I danced.

Sean Penn and I flirted heavily then...

well, you get the picture. moving right along.

when you are talking about yourself and someone else THE OTHER PERSON IS ALWAYS MENTIONED FIRST and if you and that someone else are at the end of the sentence then it's me.

Mama gave cookies to Wingman and me.

Papa is going to the store and is taking The Duke and me with him.

Tonight it's just going to be Sean Penn and me.

i know i know, it sounds like it should be I, but RESIST! for god sake man resist! it's ME! it is, i'm telling you! you won't "sound smarter" saying I at the end. you won't!! you just wont! just embrace it and move. on.

because one day we'll have to go into the whole lay vs. lie dealio and you're gonna wanna save your strength for that.

trust ME.

x.

collard greens, party of one.

on new year's day i like to make hoppin' john. you know, black eyed peas for luck and all that.

i also make cheesy grits, and slow simmered greens with ham hocks, and fresh buttermilk biscuits, too.

so a few days ago i needed to go shopping for this feast. i got the black eyed peas in bulk, though for the first time this year i saw them fresh. in fact, two different brands of fresh black eyed peas.

bully marketing effort on someone's part i'd say.

anyhow, the greens i like to get are definitely collard greens and mustard greens. they don't always have these kinds, so i was happy to see them. my store always has kale, which i LOVE, but not as a slow simmered green. i like kale better lightly steamed, or lightly sauteed instead.

so i've got my greens and the rest of my ingredients and i'm in the checkout line. the woman behind me sees my collard greens as she's unloading her cart and asks

"what are those?"

"those are collard greens"

"what do you do, cook them?"

??

"yeah

"do you eat them?"

double ??

"um, yeah. though by the time they're done cooking they don't look much like this"

"huh"

now, if you haven't ever seen collard greens they can probably seem weird. huge, too huge for a bag, and wide, and flat, and dark green. oh and generally dirty. mud on the stems, dirt on the leaves. they definitely aren't for those who like their produce cleaned, trimmed, and vacuum packed.

so the checker is scanning my items and grabs the collard greens and asks

"what are these?"

??

"collard greens"

"oh"

??

so then i'm swiping my card and these older woman comes up and taps me on the shoulder and..

(okay, i have to say i hate being tapped. anywhere on my body. by anybody. it makes me feel like punching someone right away. it comes from being locked in the turkey pen with george the turkey when i was four. while he pecked away. it's a long story that i'm sure i'll regale you with at another time. needless to say, when thanksgiving came around that year i was not sorry to see who was on the menu and in fact ate quite heartily)

so she taps me on the shoulder (i didn't punch her) and i turn around and she says

"my husband wants to know what those are"

and points to my box of grits.

no seriously, what do you think she pointed to!

"those are collard greens"

"oh"

the husband just had a mildly disgusted look on his face and they moved on.

the bagger, a boy who looked like he was 12 but i'm just old so i think everyone looks like they're 12, had no farkin' clue what to do with the collards so when he got the cart all packed up he stood there holding them with a befuddled look until i relieved him of the collards and just rested them on top of everything.

he didn't offer to help me to my car.

well i took those greens home and a pot of water, a coupla ham hocks, and three hours later they were deeee-licious!

i guess it doesn't matter how big and global the world becomes, most of us still live in the world we were born with.

and that's just fine.

more collards for me.

x.

hey brother, could you spare a dime.

so wingman got a cool craft book from my sister for christmas a few days ago.

immediately he set to work on his first craft. a little decorated plastic money box.

when he finished he was so proud! he did it largely by himself and i was proud of him, too.

he came up and told me he didn't have any money for it (which is not true, that kid has more money than god. a wallet a few inches thick and money in the bank. i don't know where he gets it, but he's got it)

where was i? oh, yeah, basically he asked me for some money to put in his new box and i was pleased with his effort and gave him a dollar to put in.

big mistake.

because for the last 24 hours he's been wandering around, shaking his little money box in every one's face, giving us "the look". and he's stopped asking, he just shakes his box.

to which the lord of the ring said

"so what? now you're a panhandler?"

the lord of the ring seemed slightly disgusted but i feel oddly comforted by it.

if nothing else, it's a useful skill to have indeed.

happy 2008!!

x.

vote.

the last day of the year.

huh.

what i really hope for this year is that americans will take the recent and not so recent events worldwide and be appreciative of their ability to vote in "free, fair, and democratic" elections.

(i put that in quotes for obvious reasons, but the sentiment stands)

without having to riot, without assassination, and without the battle battle battle to put a ballot in a box.

sure, our elections process on all levels could use more oversight and they are far. from. perfect.

BUT, fuck man. we have the right to vote!!! there are people in this world who can't even imagine that right. who will work all of their lives and battle all of their lives and will never. have. that. right.

and even when the system breaks down and doesn't work, oh and it does, we still get to vote. which means we get chance after chance to try and change it. it does do good. it really does.

not voting is not sending a message. not voting is a threat to democracy.

so i say 2008 is the year to stop bitching about what is and seek positive change for what can be.

and you can start by using your right to vote again and again and again and again and again.

if the bulk of the voting population actually voted, rather than these dismal numbers we generally see, we'd see the difference it can really make. but we also have to be willing to keep voting and be patient for the shift.

and isn't it cool we can do that without risking life and limb and liberty?

so lets make 2008 the year we encourage one another to use our right to vote and make steps towards positive change.

here's to a happy new year!

x.

rookie mom move.

you'd think after nearly 11 years at this gig and countless years before as a nanny i'd know the basics.

you know, keep the kid fed, wiped down, and always have a hat/snack/drink on hand.

but two nights ago i threw myself my own wrench. proving that the basics have far reaching tentacles that can mess with the program at. any. time.

it was the second to the last night of hanukkah and the boybarians received a card game. a card game requiring 4 or more players.

i know, huh? what the hell? and when i relayed this story to others the reactions were one of two

"wow, i'm really surprised you missed that."

and you can just hear their cogs a turning reviewing all they previously held as favorable opinion of my skills as a mother.

or

"what in the hell were you smoking!"

and then you just hear laughter of the 'you are so screwed' variety.

indeed.

my kids LOVE games. my husband and i DO NOT. i always tell the duke he was born into the wrong family. that somewhere out there his real family exists. a family filled with game playing freaks.

and wingman wins every game he plays no matter what so he's ALWAYS down for a game. surprising.

i can't believe i didn't read the box. the ideal situation gone horribly wrong. a new game is good for at least three days of the kids playing it together, elsewhere in another part of the house. three blissful days of something to do that doesn't have to do with me.

unless you don't read the box. and you purchase and give a game that requires 4 or more players.

i have, and will continue to suffer the consequences and not be so cavalier in the future. i can't afford to be.

in other news, i informed the boybarians we will be moving their desks upstairs to their room.

this will serve two purposes. one, though they rarely use their desks for school, a dedicated space somewhere away from everyone else might be quite attractive.

and two, the duke's desk looks like a yard sale gone wrong and just left in the yard without ever being packed back up, and wingman's desk isn't much better. except right after he cleans it, then he takes every little tchotchke he owns and "displays" them on his tiny desk rendering it deserted gift shop creepy and absolutely useless.

anyhow, i was explaining this and letting the duke know that i knew that the finish on his desk was not conducive to writing and i would get him a blotter so he could have a smooth surface.

then he said

"yeah, and i'll need a coffee mug that says 'world's best boss', too. you know, for my pencils."

well, he got the 'boss' part right.

now all he needs is that suit and he's set.

x.

easy, quick, and good!

and no, i'm not talking about your girlfriend.

i made this last night. it's easy because it uses 2 ready made ingredients which i am not used to using...but it turned out so good! and it was quick, which was even more important last night.

from gourmet. sorta translated by me.

(sorry, no pictures. but it looked really good plated up!)

parmesan crusted polenta with sausage mushroom ragout

1 1/2 lb to 2 lb precooked polenta (in a tube)
1/3 c grated parmesan
2 TBS olive oil, divided
1lb sweet italian sausage (i used turkey last night)
1/2 lb mixed sliced wild mushrooms (could use regular)
1/2 c dry red wine (any red will do)
1 1/2 c ready made marinara sauce

preheat broiler

slice polenta log into 8, 1/2 inch rounds (recipe called for 4, which was NOT enough)

place on lightly oiled heavy baking sheet and broil 3-4 inches from broiler for about 7 mins or until little golden brown spots appear on polenta.

turn polenta over and sprinkle generously with the cheese. broil for about 7 more minutes or until a bit more browned than the first side. remove from broiler.

meanwhile heat a heavy 12 inch skillet over medium high heat and add 1 TBS of the olive oil until shimmery. remove sausage from the casings and break up with a spatula. cook until *just* cooked through, about 4 mins.

remove sausage to the bowl, leaving the rendered fat behind. add the other 1 TBS of olive oil and cook mushrooms until soft, about 3 mins.

add the wine and bring to a boil scraping any bits off the bottom that stuck. continue to boil until wine is reduced by half, about 2 mins.

stir in the sausage and tomato sauce and simmer, stirring occasionally for about 5 minutes. salt and pepper to taste. i found it needed pepper. but that's me.

put two polenta rounds slightly overlapping on plate, cheese side up, spoon a generous helping of the ragout over the rounds and offer more parmesan cheese at the table. serve with a green salad.

enjoy!

cook's notes:

i had two complaints about the original recipe. the first was they only called for 1 polenta round a person. fine for kids, but adults need at least two apiece. i changed the amount up top to reflect this.

the other was the cost. ready made sauce, precooked polenta (need it for the tube shape) and the mushrooms made it a bit pricier than i like. BUT, you pay for the easy and the quick. and, you can substitute regular mushrooms and red wine you already have whether it's *dry* or not, or any wine you purchase to drink to cut down on the cost. it need not be pricey.

also, regular sausage (which the recipe calls for) is cheaper than turkey sausage. but i was going for health. you pay for THAT too!

now, i will make my case for boxed wines. they are better than they used to be. the technology has greatly improved, so the taste is unaffected. AND they last well over a month after opening. PLUS you get 4 bottles in a box, and since they are not individually bottled they are several dollars cheaper *per bottle* over all.

some good brands are black box, three thieves, and delicato. i know i know, anyone who grew up in the central valley will remember delicato as being sort of the bottom of the barrel kinda wine. a bit below the old school gallo. you know, before they turned all yup.

not so anymore. it is now a delicious, award winning label and deserves a second try.

does anyone remember that billboard on hwy99? where the wine is being poured into the glass and it looks *real* because it's those little shimmery circles that sway and catch the light and look like the wine is really pouring?

that was my favorite billboard evah! as a kid.

what a surprise.

x.

pa-rum-pum-pum-pum...mmm, rum.

so i took the boybarians to the nutcracker on friday. we did a little bit of studying of tchaikovsky and his music, but i kept the whole ballet thing under my hat.

the duke was familiar with the nutcracker being a ballet from t.v. and the paper, but it was news to wingman.

sure enough about 10 confused minutes it he was like "so, how much longer?"

there were a few parts he really dug. there's a battle and cannons and the chinese dragon was a big hit.

but all the dancing, not so much.

i love ballet. i used to take ballet when i was in college and in my 20s. i totally sucked but i loved it. it's very soothing and comforting to watch.

so we're there and there's a buncha kids and of course the girls are all dressed up, and some of the boys are even wearing suits. great. just what i need to start up the "suit conversation" with the duke.

okay, so some months ago the duke decided he needed a suit.

"for what?"

"just to have."

so then i explain that since he's growing so fast we should probably have an occasion for which to make such a big purchase. and since we're not a suit occasion kind of family i can't see it happening. i mentioned going to a thrift store for a used suit, but he wasn't so into it.

on friday he sees all these kids in suits and he said

"see mama, if i had a suit i could have worn it today."

"i agree. if you really want a suit, let's try the thrift stores after christmas. kids usually get a suit and wear it once before outgrowing it. i bet you could find something"

"no. i'd rather go to the men's warehouse. i bet they've got a lot of great suits."

seriously, where is the rum-pum-pum-pum.

then we continued our urban holiday adventure with a stop at the restaurant where their uncle is executive chef. it's all floor to ceiling windows and wrought iron and singles. and apparently the busiest, most happening restaurant in the city.

we asked the hostess for a table and she said

"wow. okay, you can have a table but we are booked solid so i'll have to have it back by six."

it was 4pm so i knew we were good. but i said

"what if we aren't out by six?"

she did not think that was funny. no sir.

so this is a wine bar and they specialize in small plates for tasting with the wines and all that.

the kid's menu does not have all the fried crap that is de rigueur on most kid's menus and instead offers all kinds of good stuff, healthy stuff. salmon and veggies, things like that.

of course this makes no impression on wingman whatsoever, who promptly ordered macaroni and cheese because that's just how he rolls and he makes no apologies.

the duke abandoned kid's menus years ago and while i was perusing the wine list, or binder i should say!, the duke is looking at the small plates. he says

"the queso azul served with fig jam and crackers, and the drunken figs with shaved proscuitto look good."

indeed. add in a glass of aptly named "writer's block" syrah and we'll call it good.

they also had a milk flight. which is four tasters of flavored milk served in wine glasses. very cool.

then we actually got to sit with their uncle and chat a bit, which is a rarity because we never see him. i have known this man well over a decade and can i say when my sister first met him he didn't know how to go grocery shopping and when i first met him i swear he ate delivery pizza and ben and jerry's every night. he started out washing dishes when they moved here, and now, bon appetit is requesting his recipes and he's in a cookbook and the restaurant is very very successful. it's nice to see someone you love do well.

it was a nice afternoon and lo and behold we were gone by six. because i'm all about making the people happy.

and then just to spice things up we added in a mad dash to the ferry in three inch high heeled boots. i didn't fall, thank god, but i almost did and i am ashamed to admit i reached out for wingman to steady myself. i'm not proud of this, using my own small child with the very real possibility of taking him down with me.

BUT, i didn't fall in front of a crowd and i think there's a LOT of value in that.

so i make it to the ticket counter and i'm all worried about making the ferry because they called last boarding and i'm sweaty and discombobulated and the ferry guy asks

"are these your two kids?"

"yeah"

"so they're the men in your life, huh?"

"yeah"

"are there any more men in your life?"

oh. really. okay.

"yeah, there's another one at home."

"is it another son?"

seriously? okay so here i am in a huge hurry and this man is flirting with me? can i say nobody ever flirts with me! and here it is at the worst possible time and he's whippin' out the lines and the sly smile. glad to see he's got all the time in the world.

"oh, no, it's a husband."

"ah. i see."

i give him my sweaty smile and dash to the boat and make it on just as they're stretching the little chain across.

and just when i'm smugly thinking that this old girl still has it enough to inspire flirtation there isn't one. seat. to. be. had. on. the. ferry. and then when we do find three together, we find that the third seat is being occupied by the newspaper of the man in the fourth seat.

"oh, do you mind?"i ask indicating the paper and giving him the newly minted obviously flirtation inspiring smile to which he replies

"i'm saving this seat."

"oh. of course."

and then for the entirety of the 35 minute sailing no one else ever shows up and i ride with wingman all the way on my lap.

x.

the early bird gets to wake me up first.

so yesterday morning before i had even hauled my ass out of bed wingman came in and announced he had finished his math assignment and done his spelling. then he shoved a book under my nose and said

"and i want to make a compass!"

oy.

i do love his enthusiasm and eagerness. i love it more two hours later in the morning, when school actually starts, but i'll take what i can get.

so you might have heard about some weather here in our fair state. it's cause a LOT of destruction and damage and disruption and some people have died. a bridge near us is completely gone, part of the interstate is under water, and so many homes across the state have flooding of water or mud or have been submerged to their rafters in flood water. not to mention the mudslides eating up homes and carrying cars away.

every year the storms are getting worse. there's more death and damage.

instead of the republicans bickering over policy and when life begins and the democrats campaigning against a lame duck president who can't even run again perhaps they could give a bit more priority to the issue of global warming and all it encompasses. and our role in that.

because while i understand that warming is a "natural" trend, this rate of warming is not natural. and since it's only going to get worse maybe perhaps we oughta get crackin'.

just sayin' is all.

just don't tell al about my beast of a truck. shh. we'll just keep that amongst ourselves. poor dear works so hard, i'd hate to bother him with this. or to see him weep.

x.

when it rains it floods.

well, that was fun. a little break. i only wish i can say it will help me get back here more on a regular basis, but i can't. life is busier than ever!

let's see. hmm, what's up? well, the biggest thing recently is that my favorite kitty is gone.

you will remember yancey?



remember he was slated to go to a new home earlier in the summer with his brother, but at the last minute i just.couldn't.part.with.them? and he stayed by my side the whole time i was terribly ill this summer? he's gone and i miss him terribly.

we've done everything from skulk about the animal shelter, to passing out fliers, to posting a lost and found ad on craigs list.

nada.

he is adventurous and fearless and curious. i am assuming this caught up with him and he got lost.

i can only hope that his charm and fearlessness has secured him a nice, dry, loving, TEMPORARY home. even if he isn't here with us, at least he wouldn't have become coyote food.

he does have a microchip, so if he was found and "they" do eventually get around to taking him to a vet or whatnot there's a good chance we'll get him back. i just wish "they" would get off their asses and take my kitty in already!!

oh, and as an aside, if you call the microchip people and get put on hold, guess what they play on a loop while you wait? yep, reunited. as in the sappy crappy song from way back when. so here you are all worried and sad about your lost pet and they've got peaches & herb on an everlasting loop of absurdity to comfort you.

more recently, however, this morning we are having record rainfall mixed with nearly a foot of melting snow and just for shits and giggles the sump pump decided to suck up the water in the basement and spew it back into the basement! right on the "dry part" of the basement. the higher part we put all of the stuff the we don't want to get wet if the basement decides to be wet.

good times.

other than that we are readying for the holidays that are on rapid approach. i think the only holiday we don't celebrate is kwanzaa. gotta look into that. in the meantime there is much to do and little time to do it in.

and as usual, this year i am going to attempt to enjoy what the holidays bring, and why we have them, rather than sitting in the corner with the punch bowl full of high-octane egg nog and a straw.

i'll let you know how that all pans out.

in the meantime, could you send out a little thought for my yancey?

x.

boo.

you know it's halloween when you've got tacky glue, thread, and felt bits adhered to various parts of your person and "darth vader cod piece" on your computer bookmarks.

or. not. for those of you who like that sort of thing. and trust me, after trolling a few costuming sites looking for ideas i now know there is a whole world out there filled with costume making and dressing up that has nothing to do with halloween or children.

that being said, i maintain that murphy's law comes with a vengeance at least one halloween in a child's/costume making mother's lifetime.

this year the costume for the duke was the most difficult to pull off in terms of figuring it out and fiddliness, add in battery operated, and a LAST MINUTE SHIPPED ITEM (premium shipping...yeah) and he has had a fever the past few days and will likely miss halloween all together.

if i ever dress up for halloween it will be as murphy's law. or an angry mob.

the sweet part is wingman said

"if you have to stay home from trick or treating i'll share my candy with you"

and when i was putting the finishing touches on his costume he also said

"you look like you could use some help"

and came back with some scissors and glue.

he really is sweet. they both are.

but like i've whined about in years past and i will continue to whine about every year, why is it they can't ever choose to be ghost for halloween? just once?

x.

it figures that i feel like i should feel worse.

with 5 cats in the house you'd think it would have ceased to be funny a long time ago when one cat sniffs another cat's butt.

apparently, though, if you're six it's never not funny. gut busting laughing your patooty off funny.

anyway, i guess i have the flu? i put that with a question mark because i feel really awful, but not as awful as i think i should. though i am fevery, sweaty, achy, tired but can't sleep, i still feel like i should feel worse for it to qualify as the flu and therefore call in sick to work.

(HA! excuse me while i fall down and pee my pants with THAT one! call in sick, priceless)

but the main tipper is the unexplained spontaneous weeping. i do that when i'm really sick.

or going through a particularly bad break-up. but, since the lord of the ring is still around, i guess it's the flu.

x.

wild mushroom bourguignon.

i first had this dish 11 years ago while pregnant with the duke. i've been making it ever since. and because i got inspired by the many wonderful food porn sites out there, i thought i would document my efforts and share them with you!

best to make when wild mushrooms are plentiful and therefore less expensive at the market.

wild mushroom bourguignon

1/4 c butter or olive oil (i use a combo of both)
4 c wild mushrooms (whatever is available, tonight i used chanterelle, shiitake, and oyster) leave whole if smaller, woody stem part removed...halve or chunk if bigger
1 sm. red onion, sliced into rings
2 c green bell pepper, cut into 1/2 inch squares
2 c red bell pepper, julienned
1 c yellow onion, diced
1/4 c fresh garlic, minced
2 tsp. thyme
2 tsp. salt
2 tsp. white pepper (often i use black, definitely gives it a bite if you don't have white and don't want a bite, just use a bit less black)
1/4 c soy sauce
1 c burgundy
1 c heavy cream
3/4 lb fettuccine (mostly i use a whole grain pasta which i often can't find in fettuccine, but really any pasta will do...rice, even)


assemble all your ingredients.

melt butter/olive oil in large skillet over medium heat.

add mushrooms, onions and peppers and saute until tender, about 15 mins.


it seems like a lot for the pan at first. but it will cook down. i use a 12 in. skillet.


see, after about 5 mins. it becomes a bit more manageable.

after 15 mins. add garlic, thyme, salt and pepper. saute five more minutes, stirring enough to not let the garlic stick and burn.


i like to cook with wine.


occasionally i even add it to the food


a word about the wine. of course any classic bourguignon uses red wine. burgundy to be exact. sometimes i do get a burgundy if i can find a good one...this is not always possible, unless i want to get the cheap jug. and i don't, because of the old adage that you don't want to cook with what you wouldn't drink. plus, i'm not very fond of burgundy in general.

soooo, i often switch it up. tonight i just so happened to have an open bottle of a big, toothy red. a good substitute for a typical burgundy, in my humble wine drinking opinion.


french red table wine.

so, add the wine and the soy sauce. increase heat and reduce by half. then, add the cream (i use half and half because i always have half and half, and if you're calorie conscious it's a savings) and again, reduce by half.

in the meantime bring some water to boil for pasta.

and now for a word about cooking pasta...for the best, most tasty pasta, you want your water to mimic the mediterranean sea...no little pinch of salt, no little dash. only a palmful will give you the taste you want!

you get a palmful of salt and add it when the water boils, before you add the pasta...and less water than you think. generally, we cook pasta in too much water and we lose flavor as a result of this.

cook to al dente. drain, and toss with a little olive oil.

normally i wouldn't, as olive oil prevents the sauce from sticking fully to the pasta, but because of the way it's served, the olive oil prevents the pasta from sticking together on the platter.

put the pasta on a platter, pour the sauce over the top and serve hot.



admittedly, this is not a sexy dish upon completion. i think it's a combo of the amount of time it spends cooking, rendering the veggies less colorful, and the fact that i use a cast iron pan. a different pan perhaps would yield a more vibrant looking veggie in the sauce. (also, the light was bad for this shot)

BUT, regardless of its appearance, it is a tremendously delicious dish...great for a vegetarian main dish, or as an alternative for die hard meat eaters. they won't even miss the meat!!! plus, i read once that with the exception of soybeans, mushrooms contain the most protein of any vegetable!

enjoy!

x.

(this recipe comes from the silverwater restaurant/cookbook in port townsend)

i want to be lewis black when i grow up.

i don't know if it's because i'm just a butt, but i try to refrain from commenting on or committing to the obvious.

it's because of this i could not stand the beatles in high school when everyone else loved them. why i refused to watch any foreign movies- EXCUSE ME films, as a young adult when all the other people my age were raving about them. i actually used to say

"give me a cannes logo and i'll give you my back walking out the door"

yeah, dorothy parker i wasn't.

my inherent butt-ness is also why i didn't/don't go to the movies and then to coffee after to talk about the movie we. just. saw.

"so, what did you think?" /shudder.

why it took me until syndication to get into dawson's creek. oh, wait, maybe that doesn't qualify.

i'm not surprised by the violence in movies that "shouldn't" be violent, i'm not surprised or offended when offensive ignorant people say offensive ignorant things, and i have never turned to someone after eating a fast food burger, fat-free cookie, beer, 25 cent home run cherry or lemon or chocolate pie from the gas station and said "OH MY GOD, have you seen how many calories are in this! holy shit!"

when stupid, misguided parents buy their troubled teens big caches of weapons and it turns out they homeschool i am no more surprised than i would be if they went to public school, or private school, or military school.

i never assume that people have the perfect relationship, or have it easier than others with their children, or are happy with all of their *things*.

or that there is something inherently *wrong* with them because they have *things*.

no, oprah should NOT run for president (for the obvious reason that she isn't even remotely qualified and when people say this every 4 years i wonder what exactly it is that leads them to this assumption...shit, then ANYONE with a only mildly interesting book club, billions of dollars, and a chip on their shoulder the size of a chocolate factory would be qualified.)

and neither should al gore. everybody knows you can do waaaayyyy more good being rich and unencumbered and/or an ex- president than you can actually being president.

you can just tell john edwards wants so badly to be our next president just so he can be a former president one day.

al gore just won the nobel prize for crissakes!! (so did doris lessing, the cantankerous old bat. you gotta love her!)

and you can't watch tv, pick up a magazine, listen to the radio these days without hearing the honeyed tones of bill clinton plugging his latest project. he can do anything he wants and get the airtime to promote it and you can tell he's having a good time doing it.

i guess the point to these disjointed ramblings is this, i'm tired of the obvious everyday behaviors of stupid people and even stupider celebrities being packaged as news.

i'm tired of watching people lapping it up and giving it air-time.

i'm tired of all these people who think they can be our nation's president. it should be a sacred enough office that just anyone shouldn't feel qualified to throw their hat in. i know it isn't, GOD. HOW. IT. ISN'T!

but it should be, shouldn't it?

and i know that's what america is about, this whole freedom to participate, to be a part of the process...but along with the decline of customer service and parents taking any amount of control over unruly children in restaurants, the office of president and the road to it has declined to the point of being just another thing to grumble about.

the punchline to a terribly unfunny joke.

x.

in which i create a new word.

i saw something on tv about the moken people of the andamen sea. they call them sea gypsies because they live the majority of the year on their boats on the sea. they are nomads, traveling from island to island.

and because they know the sea so well, they were able to survive the tsunami that took so many lives a few years ago.

anyway, what i found so fascinating about these people is that they don't have words in their language for want, when, or worry.

just imagine.

in other news, tomorrow night is big doins' around here. instead of our traditional family movie night, the boybarians are hosting an all garfield family movie night...not the movie, thank god. but dvds of the cartoons.

yep, there are tons and tons of garfield cartoons out there. learn something new everyday.

anyhow, they have recently discovered and are now devouring garfield in all of its many media forms. garfield in the daily comics, of course, books and books from the library and used book store, and now dvds of old cartoons.

so, friday night, armed with the dvds and their request for a big dish of lasagna and a grandparental unit, we will commence with the viewing.

except that there are a few whineats (caveats with whining)..."don't make the lasagna too cheesy", "you're not putting spinach in there are you?", "i don't care for tomato sauce"...

good lord. between the lord of the ring and i we both make kick ass lasagna...sure, mine does tend toward the adding of some veggies and less of the sausagy meat lovers kinda deal, and the lord of the ring goes for BIG ITALIAN when he makes his, but both are good.

but fuck that. i've been busy all week and i'll be damned if i'm gonna work my ass off for a lasagna that garners anything but top rating.

there's a first time for everything and tomorrow night it's stouffer's, ready made garlic bread, and a bagged salad.

okay, okay, so i'll likely make the bread and the salad myself. i was just being dramatic.

the point is after a decade of doing this i may have just learned how to know when to foldem', know when to holdem', know when to walk away and know when to purchase prepackaged frozen food like products.

i'm just wondering why it is they have taken so strongly to garfield?...a plump, cantankerous, cynical, sarcastic, at times funny, generally just grumpy, prickly character at best.

such a mystery.

we may never know.

x.

funnies from the duke.

so the other day we noticed that one of the neighbor's sheep who graze in our pasture had bitten the dust. or was sleeping reeeeaaaallllyy heavily for a reeeeaaaalllyy long time. at any rate when we left the sheep was lying there, when we came back several hours later the sheep was still lying there.

which wouldn't have surprised me at all if it were one of our cats.

anyhow, i said

"wow. i guess it's dead"

to which the duke replied,

"yep. now all we have to do is wait for the buzzards to set in"

two days later we were in the truck stopped at a light. we both look over to notice a woman practically inhaling a fast food burrito in the car next to us. the duke says

"wow. look at her jaws go"

in case you haven't guessed it from my absence, things are crazy busy here. school takes the day pretty much, and the homeschool group we joined also seems to keep us busy.

this week we're making paper with the group and last week we went rock climbing. in two weeks we have a field trip. it's good to get out, but it's also one more thing on the schedule.

in the meantime, it's definitely fall here with an eye towards winter. and my mission should i choose to figure out how to actually do it this year considering i have flaked the last 9 years is to get these godforsaken bulbs in the ground so spring blooms in a bounty of color.

hey, if i managed to move those christmas boxes in the hall then i bet i can do this!

oh, wait, yeah, i guess i didn't.

hm.

x.

how you can tell your six year old is reading too much garfield.

"wingman, what do you want for breakfast?"

"oh, a danish, some coffee, the paper"

happy monday.

x.