As I'm sure you've already gathered, I've not made this little web diary a priority of late.
Let me sum up: the first quarter of 2009 was a quarter I'd like to punch in the face.
I'm committed to not feeling this same way about any part of 2010.
With that committment comes a need to reign things in a bit, and when I take stock of what had to give, this blog came out on the losing side of the battle.
Those of you in my life already know how crazed things are around here. As this craze is all good craze from now on, you're all a wonderful part of it anyway! And let me take one last opportunity to thank you in blog form.
To those of you who aren't a part of this craze, auf wiedersehen.
Friday, February 05, 2010
Friday, October 02, 2009
This Explains Everything
At 4:30 am, we hear Tiny Viking calling "DAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDYYYYY."
Like any normal, sleep-deprived parents, we try to ignore it (what? it wasn't a panicky cry, I promise).
It continues a couple more times, and we decide we can't ignore it any more. Lawnboy gets up to see what he wants, and he says "I go bed, Mommy."
Lawnboy brings him into our bed where he proceeds to wiggle and squirm like a tiny marmocet who has just taken a hit or two of meth. I can't take it any more, this lack of sleep, and I say to Tiny Viking, "Were you sent here by evil insomniac Gypsies???"
He pauses a beat, and then responds "....uh, YEAH!"
I hope those Gypsies are happy with our actual child. I'm sure they're getting a lot of sleep. I won't pursue it legally, mostly because Tiny Viking is so damn cute.
Like any normal, sleep-deprived parents, we try to ignore it (what? it wasn't a panicky cry, I promise).
It continues a couple more times, and we decide we can't ignore it any more. Lawnboy gets up to see what he wants, and he says "I go bed, Mommy."
Lawnboy brings him into our bed where he proceeds to wiggle and squirm like a tiny marmocet who has just taken a hit or two of meth. I can't take it any more, this lack of sleep, and I say to Tiny Viking, "Were you sent here by evil insomniac Gypsies???"
He pauses a beat, and then responds "....uh, YEAH!"
I hope those Gypsies are happy with our actual child. I'm sure they're getting a lot of sleep. I won't pursue it legally, mostly because Tiny Viking is so damn cute.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Why We Garden
Growing up, both our families had a backyard garden. My husband's parents' garden was considerably more substantial than my own parents', but nonetheless, by the time we were five, we both knew a carrot was a miracle that happened underground and that those frozen peas in December were a sorry substitute for what happens in June. In fact, gorging on the peas that were always planted by our woodpile is one of my earliest memories.
When we bought our first house, Lawnboy and I were smart enough to close on it in January, which left just (barely) enough time to dig up some of the grass in the lovely southern-exposed back yard, so we could get the babies in the ground by March and April. We learn as we go, and five years later, we can look back on our garden journal and have been able to improve on what we started. We are no longer "on a break" from our friends the Cabbage Family, we have finally figured out the mysteries of those delicate and delicious plants. We know to rotate everything, and we know that if the tomatoes have blossom end rot, they aren't getting enough calcium.
But why do we keep doing it?
Because sustaining our lives with some dirt and tiny seeds are the closest we could ever get to understanding the meaning of our existence. Because our kids deserve to know that potatoes don't come in mesh bags, and that while onions may rot, leeks are with us all year round. Because every time we watch a seed grow we're reminded of how miraculous and sacred life is. Not just the pumpkin, not our darling baby boys, not the soldiers everywhere, but ALL life. Because it is reassuring to know that we don't have to rely solely on the industrial economy to put food in our mouths. Because there will come a time when our children, or our children's children, might not have a choice in the matter. Because life is about the survival of genes. And we want ours to survive.
When we bought our first house, Lawnboy and I were smart enough to close on it in January, which left just (barely) enough time to dig up some of the grass in the lovely southern-exposed back yard, so we could get the babies in the ground by March and April. We learn as we go, and five years later, we can look back on our garden journal and have been able to improve on what we started. We are no longer "on a break" from our friends the Cabbage Family, we have finally figured out the mysteries of those delicate and delicious plants. We know to rotate everything, and we know that if the tomatoes have blossom end rot, they aren't getting enough calcium.
But why do we keep doing it?
Because sustaining our lives with some dirt and tiny seeds are the closest we could ever get to understanding the meaning of our existence. Because our kids deserve to know that potatoes don't come in mesh bags, and that while onions may rot, leeks are with us all year round. Because every time we watch a seed grow we're reminded of how miraculous and sacred life is. Not just the pumpkin, not our darling baby boys, not the soldiers everywhere, but ALL life. Because it is reassuring to know that we don't have to rely solely on the industrial economy to put food in our mouths. Because there will come a time when our children, or our children's children, might not have a choice in the matter. Because life is about the survival of genes. And we want ours to survive.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Golden Hour by the Lake
Uncle Thane came to visit us in September, and we had a grand time showing him around Seattle. One of our favorite places for a picnic is a little park on Lake Washington, and we were there at the most beautiful time of the day. Fezzik showed Uncle Thane all around our park, and we ended up on the dock enjoying the sunset.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Tiny Viking on Slide
Long delays! We've been *living* y'all!
Here is the small one at our favorite playground, hamming it up on the syide. Which, in twospeak, means "slide."
More to come real soon - I just configured my flickr account to post directly to the blog, so hopefully that will keep me more motivated to share pics with you.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Pickles!
I realized that my summer weekends are now a thing of the past. We have two weddings next weekend, and after that we're headed to Montana for a major road trip vacation.
That said, we had a lot of stuff to put up from the garden. The green beans are overwhelming, the cucumbers keep coming, the zucchini is... not quite overwhelming, but I could survive on zucchini alone. I love the stuff. We never have too much.
A weekend full of canning was in order. Here's what we put by (sorry for the lack of pictures, I'll update later).
That said, we had a lot of stuff to put up from the garden. The green beans are overwhelming, the cucumbers keep coming, the zucchini is... not quite overwhelming, but I could survive on zucchini alone. I love the stuff. We never have too much.
A weekend full of canning was in order. Here's what we put by (sorry for the lack of pictures, I'll update later).
- Seven pounds of scarlet runner beans (canned)
- Seven half-pints of blueberry jam
- Five half-pints of raspberry jelly
- Two quarts of asian-style refrigerator pickles
- One quart of half-sours, a fermented dill pickle
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Pictures
I'm running out of brains. My only excuses for not posting my usual, pithy entries is that it's been a very crappy spring - broken friendships, grandma's death, having to put down our favorite old cat. By put down, I mean murder (even if it was the kindest thing for him, it still felt like murder).
Anyway, these can speak for themselves for now. And if you haven't already heard, please join us for the Swedish SummeRun - it's going to be held on what would have been my mom's 63rd birthday, and it has been 5 years since her death, so we want a HUGE team this year in her honor. Sign up here.
And now, on with the show! We went for a little walk at the Mima Mounds a couple weekends ago, just after we hit a farm auction (which was more fun than it sounds, at least for me). These mounds are mysterious, and people still don't know how they got here. Some folks say they're a result of glacial melts, some say Native Americans made them, others say pocket gophers (really). Our money is on the glaciers, but what do we know?
Then, for your viewing pleasure, is Fezzik's ATTACK FACE. Click on the picture for a close-up, it's totally worth it. Believe me when I tell you he missed this ball, but the next one was a nice hard line drive. His baseball skills really improved this year, and more importantly, he liked playing. He was a great little hitter! He was one of 2 kids who homered this year, and doggone it, even if it was a result of the other team's incompetence, IT COUNTS. That is all; I'll put my rabid Baseball Mom attitude aside until Fall Ball starts. Thank you.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
The Ice Age
Woke up this morning, on the hottest day in 9 months, to a wee baby with a 101 degree fever.
It's rough trying to work from home when you have a 2-year-old, hot, sweaty kid wanting to be held all day. I am not one to say no to holding my sick baby, either. The not-wearing-pants part is a great benefit on a day like today, 90 degrees in the shade (83 by my laptop...).
So, instead of 8 contiguous hours, I get to break my workday up into little chunks, and work 12 broken up hours.
To tell you the absolute truth, I would much rather have been in the office today, where there is air conditioning. I am a WIMP! When the mercury climbs above 78 I start melting.
We've worked out a complicated compromised schedule for tomorrow, one where Lawnboy gets up even earlier than normal, and I start the day like normal, but come back after dropping off Fezzik at school, and dropping of Tiny Viking the Contagious with his dad before I head to work. Phew!
But air conditioning? Here I come. And I may not wear pants tomorrow either. I'm just warning you.
It's rough trying to work from home when you have a 2-year-old, hot, sweaty kid wanting to be held all day. I am not one to say no to holding my sick baby, either. The not-wearing-pants part is a great benefit on a day like today, 90 degrees in the shade (83 by my laptop...).
So, instead of 8 contiguous hours, I get to break my workday up into little chunks, and work 12 broken up hours.
To tell you the absolute truth, I would much rather have been in the office today, where there is air conditioning. I am a WIMP! When the mercury climbs above 78 I start melting.
We've worked out a complicated compromised schedule for tomorrow, one where Lawnboy gets up even earlier than normal, and I start the day like normal, but come back after dropping off Fezzik at school, and dropping of Tiny Viking the Contagious with his dad before I head to work. Phew!
But air conditioning? Here I come. And I may not wear pants tomorrow either. I'm just warning you.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Busy Week Menu
We've got after-school stuff going on this week. Here's the menu.
Monday take-out Vietnamese Banh Mi sandwiches (DELICIOUS and $3.25 apiece!)
Tuesday fettucine with peas, shallots and herbs, salad from the garden, wacky cake
Wednesday broccoli and rice casserole, scrambled eggs, spinach salad, strawberry shortcake
Thursday dutch babies, sausages, honeydew melon, raspberries with angel food cake
Friday Empanadas, homemade popsicles (yogurt, blueberries)
Unless our neighbor comes over to barter with halibut for more of our eggs. In that case, all menu bets are off!
Monday take-out Vietnamese Banh Mi sandwiches (DELICIOUS and $3.25 apiece!)
Tuesday fettucine with peas, shallots and herbs, salad from the garden, wacky cake
Wednesday broccoli and rice casserole, scrambled eggs, spinach salad, strawberry shortcake
Thursday dutch babies, sausages, honeydew melon, raspberries with angel food cake
Friday Empanadas, homemade popsicles (yogurt, blueberries)
Unless our neighbor comes over to barter with halibut for more of our eggs. In that case, all menu bets are off!
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Copycat Hike, or How Even Tiny Vikings Idolize Their Big Brothers
Last weekend was a blast. We hit Folklife to see some amazing belly dancing, we gardened, we dug clams, we started construction of a giant cardboard castle, and yesterday, to top it off, we went for a hike.
We hit the Coal Creek Canyon, which isn't far from our house. At first, we were worried that we'd hear freeway noise the whole way, but as soon as we rounded the first bend, we were enveloped by the sounds and the quiet of the forest. I love living in the Pacific Northwest; the forests here are my idea of heaven.
We only went for just under two miles, but we think that's not bad with a two year old in tow. He ran most of the way, although he got tired at the midpoint and I carried him in the backpack for a while. Most of the time was spent chasing his brother up and down the trail. Everything Fezzik did, Tiny Viking had to try too. Throwing rocks into the creek? Of course! And of course he can throw the big rocks just like his brother. So what if he's just a quarter of Fezzik's age?
What got us rolling, though, was the mimicry. Fezzik missed a shot with his rock, and said "DARN it!" Then Tiny Viking threw his rock, and said "DURR IT!" Fezzik spotted a snail on the trail, Tiny Viking had to stop and tell us all about it. Fezzik booked it up the trail, Tiny Viking followed, arms pumping, saying "bruh-urrrrr, ait up!" (Brother, wait up!).
On the way back down, that snail had been crushed by another hiker. How I love Fezzik's respect for life. We paused at the scene of the crime, Fezzik mourned the death, and Tiny Viking reminded us about how much they both had liked that snail.
We had clam linguine last night for dinner, and while we usually make Fezzik try a bite of any seafood we eat (which happens infrequently, but is always consumed by Fezzik under protest), last night he argued "Mom, I just do not want to eat any living thing." Remembering the sad look on his face when he discovered the crushed snail on our hike, I couldn't argue a case for meat last night. I didn't have it in me. The kid's got morals.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Long Time Gone
We got back safely from Chicago, and three weeks later, I'm still digesting. Whoa. And, can I just tell you that We Do Not Drink That Much Out Here On The West Coast? Fun, though, even if the weekend is kind of blurry. I vaguely recall naming the trip "Meat-a-palooza." The meat fest started out at Hot Dougs, where I waited in line for 40 minutes to buy a delicious Chicago-style Polish Sausage, all the while refraining from buying a meat-themed t-shirt for my vegetarian husband. Self control! And it ended at Hamburger Mary's, where I had a (what else?) delicious, delicious cheeseburger. MMMMMMMmmm, meat! And I'd like to publicly thank my very generous sister, who was a great hostess. Thanks for letting us invade your space!
I did try rum again, for the first time since that unfortunate incident on my roof when I was 18. I was assured by my sister that this was no ordinary rum we were drinking, but a special, barf-proof, caramel flavored Belizean rum, which she and her boyfriend discovered on their trip to Belize. And you know what? She was right! Delicious!
And the jury is in: I officially like my sister's boyfriend. He's a genuine nice guy! He's funny! He's smart! What more could I ask for? Not much, in my estimation.
My friend Nicole, who now lives in Madison, WI, ventured down to visit us. What fun! We all crammed into my sister's room for a sleepover, and it kind of felt like old times, minus the uncomfortable hide-a-bed bars in our backs.
Sidenote: Nicole and I went to camp together every summer between the ages of 10 and 17. We had a small group of friends who went with us each year, and while Nicole and I caught up in Chicago, we came to the conclusion that the time was ripe for a Camp Cornet reunion. Las Vegas, here we come, this October!
In other, sadder news, my amazing grandma passed away on May 5. While it wasn't expected the way it was when my mom died, it wasn't a complete shocker either. She was tiny and frail and it's ok. I miss her to bits and pieces, but I'm really glad she's not in pain any more. My dad, his sister, Lawnboy and I were all there with her when she died, and it was pretty peaceful. I'm glad we got to be there with her when it happened.
There are more updates but at the moment, Tiny Viking and Fezzik need to get ready for school and daycare. And I should probably think about getting ready for work.
I'll leave you with a yummy spring recipe. We gobbled this up on Sunday night and it's definitely going into heavy rotation for a while. The herbs came from our garden, but our peas aren't quite ready yet. In about a month or so, all the vegetables will come from our garden, including the shallots!
Spring Fettucine with Peas and Fresh Herbs
adapted from Real Simple magazine
1 lb dry fettucine
2 c. fresh shelled peas
2 T. olive oil
6 shallots, about 1/2 cup
1/2 c. fresh Italian parsley, coarsely chopped
1/4 c. fresh mint leaves, finely chopped
2 T. fresh chives, finely chopped
1/4 c. Parmesan cheese (or Grana Padano, or pecorino)
salt & pepper
Cook the fettucine in very salty water until almost al dente. Add the peas and cook for 1 -2 minutes more. Reserve 1/2 c. of the pasta water, then drain and return the fettucine to the pot.
While the pasta cooks, heat the olive oil in a skillet over medium heat, then add the shallots and salt and pepper, and sautee until soft but not browned.
Add the shallots to the pasta, then add the herbs and cheese and stir gently. Serve it all up and chow down!
I did try rum again, for the first time since that unfortunate incident on my roof when I was 18. I was assured by my sister that this was no ordinary rum we were drinking, but a special, barf-proof, caramel flavored Belizean rum, which she and her boyfriend discovered on their trip to Belize. And you know what? She was right! Delicious!
And the jury is in: I officially like my sister's boyfriend. He's a genuine nice guy! He's funny! He's smart! What more could I ask for? Not much, in my estimation.
My friend Nicole, who now lives in Madison, WI, ventured down to visit us. What fun! We all crammed into my sister's room for a sleepover, and it kind of felt like old times, minus the uncomfortable hide-a-bed bars in our backs.
Sidenote: Nicole and I went to camp together every summer between the ages of 10 and 17. We had a small group of friends who went with us each year, and while Nicole and I caught up in Chicago, we came to the conclusion that the time was ripe for a Camp Cornet reunion. Las Vegas, here we come, this October!
In other, sadder news, my amazing grandma passed away on May 5. While it wasn't expected the way it was when my mom died, it wasn't a complete shocker either. She was tiny and frail and it's ok. I miss her to bits and pieces, but I'm really glad she's not in pain any more. My dad, his sister, Lawnboy and I were all there with her when she died, and it was pretty peaceful. I'm glad we got to be there with her when it happened.
There are more updates but at the moment, Tiny Viking and Fezzik need to get ready for school and daycare. And I should probably think about getting ready for work.
I'll leave you with a yummy spring recipe. We gobbled this up on Sunday night and it's definitely going into heavy rotation for a while. The herbs came from our garden, but our peas aren't quite ready yet. In about a month or so, all the vegetables will come from our garden, including the shallots!
Spring Fettucine with Peas and Fresh Herbs
adapted from Real Simple magazine
1 lb dry fettucine
2 c. fresh shelled peas
2 T. olive oil
6 shallots, about 1/2 cup
1/2 c. fresh Italian parsley, coarsely chopped
1/4 c. fresh mint leaves, finely chopped
2 T. fresh chives, finely chopped
1/4 c. Parmesan cheese (or Grana Padano, or pecorino)
salt & pepper
Cook the fettucine in very salty water until almost al dente. Add the peas and cook for 1 -2 minutes more. Reserve 1/2 c. of the pasta water, then drain and return the fettucine to the pot.
While the pasta cooks, heat the olive oil in a skillet over medium heat, then add the shallots and salt and pepper, and sautee until soft but not browned.
Add the shallots to the pasta, then add the herbs and cheese and stir gently. Serve it all up and chow down!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
We're Off to See the Wizard
Not really. My dad bought me a plane ticket to Chicago for my birthday, and I head to my sister's fair city tomorrow morning!
It seems she's planned a week's worth of eating into 4 days, but who am I to complain about that?
Also, my dearest dear darling friend Nicole is coming down from Madison to visit. Bonus!
Hijinks will ensue, I promise! We've an agenda full of things you can't do with two little vegetarian boys in tow - Whirlyball, a musical, and steakhouses, not to mention uninterrupted sleep. Possibly a walking tour of the city, too, although it's a bit early in the season for that.
It seems she's planned a week's worth of eating into 4 days, but who am I to complain about that?
Also, my dearest dear darling friend Nicole is coming down from Madison to visit. Bonus!
Hijinks will ensue, I promise! We've an agenda full of things you can't do with two little vegetarian boys in tow - Whirlyball, a musical, and steakhouses, not to mention uninterrupted sleep. Possibly a walking tour of the city, too, although it's a bit early in the season for that.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Newest Member of the Household
Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you CASSIOPEIA, the cutest house rabbit you've ever seen. In your lives. Warning: these pictures may cause you to die of cuteness. She's CUTE, I tell you!
See?
Are you still alive? Really? You didn't die from the cuteness? Huh.
We're going to call her Cassie for short. Why Cassiopeia? 1. Because it's my favorite constellation, 2. Because getting her was my idea, and therefore naming her is my right, and 3. Because all mammal pets in our house must, apparently, have a name that starts with the letter "c."
The intent was to go to the Humane Society with my friends Jessica and Kate and procure a timeshare rabbit, but they chickened out. This little baby is ALL MINE.
She appears to be a rex, with the short, short, velveteen fur that I'm so fond of. If she were longer-furred, I'd consider spinning the fur and making angora socks, but that's a little while down the road for me. She's 6 months old, and has been hand raised, and loves to be held and petted.
Oh my god, y'all, she's so cute. I'm going to go play with her now, and really, how could you blame me???
Monday, April 13, 2009
A Sad Few Weeks
Warning: this one's a downer!
It has been a rough few weeks. The highlights (lowlights?), in no particular order:
My 91-year-old great aunt went into the hospital for a bowel obstruction, but now has pneumonia and doesn't want to be treated for it. We don't think she'll make it, and she keeps talking about how she's so tired of living. Which is totally her right, but just sad because we'll miss her.
I "had words" with a dear friend's wife and now it appears that the friendship is over...? There has been no final word on the matter, which is rough. I don't even know what to say about this, other than I'm absolutely devastated.
Our dear old Charlie cat started acting all weird, lethargic and drooley, and we took him to the vet and found out that he either has an abscessed tooth or a tumor, in addition to a thyroid problem and a heart murmur, and requires (expensive) surgery, and because of his heart murmur he may not recover from the anesthesia.
The silver lining:
My sister came to town to see our great aunt. She was here for a bonus week, and it was really wonderful to see her.
That's it, for now.
It has been a rough few weeks. The highlights (lowlights?), in no particular order:
My 91-year-old great aunt went into the hospital for a bowel obstruction, but now has pneumonia and doesn't want to be treated for it. We don't think she'll make it, and she keeps talking about how she's so tired of living. Which is totally her right, but just sad because we'll miss her.
I "had words" with a dear friend's wife and now it appears that the friendship is over...? There has been no final word on the matter, which is rough. I don't even know what to say about this, other than I'm absolutely devastated.
Our dear old Charlie cat started acting all weird, lethargic and drooley, and we took him to the vet and found out that he either has an abscessed tooth or a tumor, in addition to a thyroid problem and a heart murmur, and requires (expensive) surgery, and because of his heart murmur he may not recover from the anesthesia.
The silver lining:
My sister came to town to see our great aunt. She was here for a bonus week, and it was really wonderful to see her.
That's it, for now.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Fezzik's Spring Adventures, Wherein We Almost Freeze to Death
I ran into Fezzik's last baseball coach at work a few weeks back. He asked me if Fezzik would be playing ball again this year, and I had to tell him I had no idea.
At the end of the season last year, Fezzik was convinced that he would never take another swing at a baseball as long as he lived. It didn't occur to us to ask him during registration this year if he wanted to play again. He was adamant last year. Because he complained and fought with us about going to practice and games last year, we didn't have the heart to argue with him.
After I saw Coach Mike, I asked Fezzik, in passing, if he had changed his mind about baseball. Would you maybe like to play again this year? The answer was an immediate and resounding "YES!" I emailed the league to find a spot for him and he was assigned to the Rockies. I asked him again if he was sure he wanted to play, and he was still enthusiastic about it.
First game was last night, and despite his lineage and the fact that we haven't played catch or had any batting practice since June of last year, the kid is a bit of a jock. The first time up to bat, he hit a foul ball (contact!) on the first swing, and the second ball that came his way was quickly turned into a line drive right down the third base line. Base hit - way to go kiddo!
He was also excited and distracted by his friends from his old school. I haven't put much effort in keeping in contact with his friends from last year - it's time to change that, especially since they all live in our neighborhood.
I'm glad he's excited to play again. It helps his motivation that he remembered how to hit the ball, too. Even though we froze our asses off while he played, it was a very fun night.
At the end of the season last year, Fezzik was convinced that he would never take another swing at a baseball as long as he lived. It didn't occur to us to ask him during registration this year if he wanted to play again. He was adamant last year. Because he complained and fought with us about going to practice and games last year, we didn't have the heart to argue with him.
After I saw Coach Mike, I asked Fezzik, in passing, if he had changed his mind about baseball. Would you maybe like to play again this year? The answer was an immediate and resounding "YES!" I emailed the league to find a spot for him and he was assigned to the Rockies. I asked him again if he was sure he wanted to play, and he was still enthusiastic about it.
First game was last night, and despite his lineage and the fact that we haven't played catch or had any batting practice since June of last year, the kid is a bit of a jock. The first time up to bat, he hit a foul ball (contact!) on the first swing, and the second ball that came his way was quickly turned into a line drive right down the third base line. Base hit - way to go kiddo!
He was also excited and distracted by his friends from his old school. I haven't put much effort in keeping in contact with his friends from last year - it's time to change that, especially since they all live in our neighborhood.
I'm glad he's excited to play again. It helps his motivation that he remembered how to hit the ball, too. Even though we froze our asses off while he played, it was a very fun night.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
On the Cheap and Green
We tend to spend a lot of money on food. One of the ways we've been trying to whittle our budget down is by planning our meals.
Meal planning allows us to have a better grasp of what we will need, it helps us to plan to use up foods more efficiently (e.g. before the sour cream turns on us); it saves time - we don't grocery shop nearly as often as we used to, and we don't get home from work hungry, worrying about what to cook. The best benefit is that we've been able to cut back on the "I'm bored with my choices - let's eat out" nights in a significant way. We eat out at least 50% less than we used to. That adds up.
Each weekend, we take 10 minutes to rummage through the cupboards and freezer, and we sit down and plan out what we'll be eating the following week. We've really cut back on what we waste this way, and we're more conscious about using up what we already have.
Win-win!
This week's menu is fairly typical.
Monday: Scrambled eggs with corn & zucchini, corn tortillas, spanish rice and refried beans
Tuesday: Salmon burgers, sweet potato oven-fries, steamed kohlrabi, salad
Wednesday: Spagetti (homemade sauce), salad, broccoli, bread
Thursday: Halibut (from our neighbors' trip to Alaska!), green beans, rice pilaf
Friday: Homemade pizza
Meal planning allows us to have a better grasp of what we will need, it helps us to plan to use up foods more efficiently (e.g. before the sour cream turns on us); it saves time - we don't grocery shop nearly as often as we used to, and we don't get home from work hungry, worrying about what to cook. The best benefit is that we've been able to cut back on the "I'm bored with my choices - let's eat out" nights in a significant way. We eat out at least 50% less than we used to. That adds up.
Each weekend, we take 10 minutes to rummage through the cupboards and freezer, and we sit down and plan out what we'll be eating the following week. We've really cut back on what we waste this way, and we're more conscious about using up what we already have.
Win-win!
This week's menu is fairly typical.
Monday: Scrambled eggs with corn & zucchini, corn tortillas, spanish rice and refried beans
Tuesday: Salmon burgers, sweet potato oven-fries, steamed kohlrabi, salad
Wednesday: Spagetti (homemade sauce), salad, broccoli, bread
Thursday: Halibut (from our neighbors' trip to Alaska!), green beans, rice pilaf
Friday: Homemade pizza
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Custom-made Cookies
We have a cafe at work, which doesn't offer up terribly great food, but we eat there from time to time. One thing they do very well is their cookies.
I had a coconut-chocolate chip-macadamia nut cookie there a few weeks ago, and it was delectable. I thought I'd try to replicate it the next time I made cookies.
Fezzik and I did that today. It's not exact, but it's close enough, and the best part is that I used stuff we had in our pantry instead of making an extra trip for macadamia nuts. Admittedly, I think they'd taste better with the macadamia nuts, but in this case, thrift and laziness won.
Kath's Choco-coconut Cookies
adapted from the Ghiradelli Chocolate Chip Cookie recipe
Ingredients
2 1/4 c. flour
1 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt
1 c. butter, room temp
1 c. white sugar (I would use less next time, the standard Tollhouse 3/4 c. would work out just fine)
1 c. brown sugar, packed (again, you could get by with less than this)
2 t. vanilla extract
2 large eggs
2 c. semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 c. chopped walnuts
3/4 c. unsweetened shredded coconut Bob's Red Mill is my favorite)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix the flour, soda and salt together in a small bowl and ignore it until you need it.
Beat the butter with the sugars on medium speed in your Kitchenaid Mixer until light and fluffy. Then keep going a little while longer to be sure. This is the most important step.
Add the vanilla and the eggs (bonus points for using eggs from your backyard flock, like we did!), one at a time, and beat after each just until blended.
Add the flour mixture into the butter mixture and stir until everything is evenly mixed, then add the chocolate chips, walnuts (or macadamias) and coconut and mix again just until combined.
Drop by big tablespoons onto your ungreased cookie sheets and bake for 15 minutes or so, until golden brown. Remove to cool on wire racks, and enjoy a couple while they're still warm!
Thursday, March 05, 2009
This One's For Grandma
Not that she's ever seen this side of the "Internets." Grandma told me a story once, about a Mother's Day when my dad was maybe four years old, when his sister came home from grammar school with a fancy class-made Mother's Day present. Dad apparently felt guilty about not having anything to give his mommy, and promptly went into the back garden and dug up some worms. He took them inside and said, in his sweetest voice, "Here, Mommy, I got you a Mother's Day present too." Now, I need to tell you that my grandma is not a lady you'd consider one with a tough constitution. She's, well, I mean this in the nicest sense, a Priss. Not one to get too dirty, my gram; the best one-word adjective I can use to describe her is "lady." What did she do when presented with a handful of worms? She screwed up her courage, stuck her hand out, and took those worms from her Billy boy, and gushed over them just as she had over Mary Anne's gift.
I doubt anyone has ever called me a Lady, and I don't really mind mucking around and getting dirty, but I have a real fear of worms. I don't know when or how it started, but somewhere way back, I developed not just a revulsion to, but an actual (if undiagnosed) phobia of the bastards. They freak me out. If I could control it, I would, believe me. Don't try to rationalize it - I realize I'm not going to be strangled by a nightcrawler. A phobia is defined by Merriam Webster as "an exaggerated usually inexplicable and illogical fear of a particular object, class of objects, or situation." That's exactly what I have. I appreciate worms, and the work they do to break down my kitchen scraps (and everything else), but I'm not going to rescue them out of mud puddles or pick them up and carry them around in my pockets. Ever.
I've been forced, of late, to start facing my fears head-on, like a real grownup.
Tiny Viking developed a fondness for worms in September, when his own very special grandma was visiting and playing in our garden with him. Now, whenever he sees a worm, he calls out in the cutest little voice, "WORRRRMMMM, wORrrmmm!" And, because I am an exceptional parent (cough, cough), I have done my best to not discourage this little (disgusting) habit of his. I even bend over to examine the little wriggly creatures if he notices them in the driveway. I do not want to instill my irrational fears on my children (see how exceptional I am?!). Still, I get the heebie-jeebies every time it happens, I won't lie to you.
Fezzik, at 8, has not developed an aversion to worms either, unfortunately for me. He went out on Tuesday morning to let our chickens out of their coop, and came back into our kitchen with 2 worms in his hand. I took a deep breath and said in my most nonchalant voice, "hey! what'cha got there?"
"Mom, I think I want to start a worm farm."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I want to grow worms and sell them."
"Well. That sounds like a very good plan. I have one rule, though. The worms need to stay outside."
"OK."
"Starting right now."
Lucky for me, he's a very obedient child. He marched his livestock outside and placed him gently in the dirt. Ugh.
I doubt anyone has ever called me a Lady, and I don't really mind mucking around and getting dirty, but I have a real fear of worms. I don't know when or how it started, but somewhere way back, I developed not just a revulsion to, but an actual (if undiagnosed) phobia of the bastards. They freak me out. If I could control it, I would, believe me. Don't try to rationalize it - I realize I'm not going to be strangled by a nightcrawler. A phobia is defined by Merriam Webster as "an exaggerated usually inexplicable and illogical fear of a particular object, class of objects, or situation." That's exactly what I have. I appreciate worms, and the work they do to break down my kitchen scraps (and everything else), but I'm not going to rescue them out of mud puddles or pick them up and carry them around in my pockets. Ever.
I've been forced, of late, to start facing my fears head-on, like a real grownup.
Tiny Viking developed a fondness for worms in September, when his own very special grandma was visiting and playing in our garden with him. Now, whenever he sees a worm, he calls out in the cutest little voice, "WORRRRMMMM, wORrrmmm!" And, because I am an exceptional parent (cough, cough), I have done my best to not discourage this little (disgusting) habit of his. I even bend over to examine the little wriggly creatures if he notices them in the driveway. I do not want to instill my irrational fears on my children (see how exceptional I am?!). Still, I get the heebie-jeebies every time it happens, I won't lie to you.
Fezzik, at 8, has not developed an aversion to worms either, unfortunately for me. He went out on Tuesday morning to let our chickens out of their coop, and came back into our kitchen with 2 worms in his hand. I took a deep breath and said in my most nonchalant voice, "hey! what'cha got there?"
"Mom, I think I want to start a worm farm."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I want to grow worms and sell them."
"Well. That sounds like a very good plan. I have one rule, though. The worms need to stay outside."
"OK."
"Starting right now."
Lucky for me, he's a very obedient child. He marched his livestock outside and placed him gently in the dirt. Ugh.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
New and Notable
Couple things.
1. I noticed that I have a blog follower that I don't appear to know! Woot! She is apparently a belly dancer too. Hi Crazed Redhead! You can email me! I would love to know more about you! I'm not scary! Although I use too many exclamation points!
2. Speaking of being a Raqstar! I made my first belly dance costume last weekend. It includes but is not limited to gold fringe and amber beads and tiny brass skeleton keys, because they struck my fancy. I wanted to wear it to work on Monday but the 8-year-old talked me out of it.
Is that over-sharing? Most of you who know me should recall that I tend to introduce myself to groups by saying "It's easiest for me to describe myself using this interperetive dance. If you could just clear the way here, I'll get started." And, for those of you who DON'T know me, that was a direct quote from the first staff meeting I attended at the architecture firm where I worked from 1999 - 2001. Yes. Not. Kidding.
Anywhoodle, I think I'm all amped up on the fact that Crazed Redhead likes my blog, and I don't even know her! Hooray for the tiny world, hooray for the interwebs!
1. I noticed that I have a blog follower that I don't appear to know! Woot! She is apparently a belly dancer too. Hi Crazed Redhead! You can email me! I would love to know more about you! I'm not scary! Although I use too many exclamation points!
2. Speaking of being a Raqstar! I made my first belly dance costume last weekend. It includes but is not limited to gold fringe and amber beads and tiny brass skeleton keys, because they struck my fancy. I wanted to wear it to work on Monday but the 8-year-old talked me out of it.
Is that over-sharing? Most of you who know me should recall that I tend to introduce myself to groups by saying "It's easiest for me to describe myself using this interperetive dance. If you could just clear the way here, I'll get started." And, for those of you who DON'T know me, that was a direct quote from the first staff meeting I attended at the architecture firm where I worked from 1999 - 2001. Yes. Not. Kidding.
Anywhoodle, I think I'm all amped up on the fact that Crazed Redhead likes my blog, and I don't even know her! Hooray for the tiny world, hooray for the interwebs!
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