Reason #1,492 I love Matt...

On a whim, we decided to meet Daddy out for supper tonight. Daddy works 9 hours most days in the summer and commutes 2.5 hours round trip.

At "Currans" restaurant tonight (yes, a real live restaurant with servers who take your order and clear your dishes!), Elliott decided to start practicing his vocalizations. "Ahhhhhh!" he shouted. "AhhhhHHHHHhhhhhAAAAAhhhhhhaaaaaHHHHH." Then he ate a crayon. And threw every kind of food, utensil and napkin on the floor as I scrambled to catch them and move all items not nailed down out of his reach. Then his brother, who had to poop and didn't realize it, started bouncing around in his booster seat, which flipped over, causing him to fly head-first toward the floor. Matt caught him by the leg just before his head would have cracked on the floor.

So, does Matt ask me to come home and help put the boys to bed? No. He says, "Honey, why don't I take the kids home in the van. You take my car, run the errands you've been wanting to get done. But first, just sit here and relax a bit. Order a piece of pie. I'll work on bedtime."

And so I did. Custard pie with whipped cream. And the last bit of coffee from my sweetie's mug. And it was heavenly. And when I got home, the baby was asleep, his brother was drowsy & full of hugs & kisses for his mommy, and I got to work on this dumb old blog of mine.

And that is reason #1,492 that I love my husband.

Reason #754 I Will Not Receive "Mother of the Year" Award...

Baby toddles over to me chewing something. The rest is in his hand. I scream and swoop it out of his mouth. It looks like cat food. Regurgitated cat food.

Yes. My baby ate cat puke.

I will end this post here so you can take a moment to throw up a little in your mouth.

But hey, if my cousin's kid can survive licking a dumpster, what's a little cat puke going to hurt?

Room

We are no longer sleeping on mattresses on the floor, sprawled about like animals. We have a real live bed courtesy of IKEA. And real live curtains. And the boys are sleeping in their own beds. Hooray!

Memorial Day Mealtime

What's On the Plate:
Whipped Parsnips, with Shredded Carrots & Black Radish
Grilled Veggie Burger with White Mild Cheddar & Arugula


What's On the Platter:
Happy Girl by Beth Nielsen Chapman
(click on "listen" under "Sand & Water")

Used Car Sales, Line One

I was a receptionist at a car dealership when I was in college. I spent all day saying, "Good afternoon, Viking Olds, Nissan, Volvo, GMC."

When I saw how Matt dressed Elliott on Monday, the only thing I could say was, "Rick Utley, Line One please. Rick, Line One."

Not Quite Right...

I enjoy mixed metaphors. My friend Kelly said them all the time when we worked nights together. "That guy's not the brightest knife in the drawer," she would say. "Don't count a leopard before its spots." Once she said, "That guy's gonna bake his own bubble and burst." That wasn't so much a mixed metaphor as . . . well, I don't know what that was. My favorite was the time she told our boss, "You just have to grab the horn by the balls..."

If Kelly was the queen of mixed metaphors, my husband is the crown prince. They're not always metaphors. He often asks if my mother is going to be volunteering this week at the local homeless shelter, what he calls the "Doris Day House." I imagine my mother and Doris, tucking a loose strand of frosty white hair back into her beehive, dressed in a tight sheath by Irene, washing dishes together at the kitchen sink and singing "Que Sara Sara, Whatever Will Be Will Be."

"Well, I tell him, I don't know about Doris Day, but I think she'll be at the DOROTHY Day House on Wednesday."

Today we were talking at the lunch table. "I wish I had a million dollars," I said. "Hot dog!"

"What's that from?" Matt asked.

"It's a Wonderful Life," I said.

"I remember that movie," he said. "At the end when they're having the house party, a bunch of punks show up and have a big fight."

I did a quick scan of my memory. George Bailey. Comes home. Whole town. Waiting for him. Everyone cries. Bell rings on Christmas tree. Zuzu: "Teacher says, 'every time a bell rings, and angel gets its wings.'" George: "Atta boy, Clarence!" Everyone sings: "Auld Lang Syne." The end.

Punks? I think. Big fight?

"I'm sorry," I say. "Could you describe when in the the classic Christmas movie a group of punks come to beat up George and Mary Bailey and their angelic offspring?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"It's a Wonderful Life."

"Oh," he said. "I thought you said, 'Some Kind of Wonderful.'"

The end.

Veggies

P.S. The veggies are officially gone. Except for one half of a large black radish, which I don't know what to do with. I might just throw it out to the rabbit couple who live in our backyard: Mrs. Anderson and Mrs. May, named for Oliver's preschool teachers, and their litter of baby rabbits.

I'm grateful for those rabbits, because they keep our cat Megan very entertained all day. All day she sits in the kitchen window staring at them and praying, "Holy Jesus, please let me just eat one of those ladies for lunch." So far, her prayers have gone unanswered. She's thinking of becoming an atheist. Or a Unitarian.

The end.


Here is Megan nursing a blanket, back when our master bedroom was still painted a shocking vagina color, courtesy of the previous owners of our home.

If you think you've got troubles...

...ask Matt about what he did to our new outdoor carpeting. Don't have his phone number? Oh, all right. I'll go ahead and tell you.

He draped our outdoor carpeting over the edge of the deck so he could sweep all the helicopter seeds away before laying the carpet down. Then he got distracted by my cries for help. Which sounded like this: "Help! Help!" I can't remember why. Maybe because I was getting ready for one of the weddings I officiated this weekend? And the baby was crying and trying to pull my pants down with his tugs and pleading for attention? Probably something like that.

So Matt doesn't get back to the carpet right away. And later he's in the backyard. And he starts wondering: "Why can I see the porch light through the carpet?" This would be the motion-sensing, light-sensing porch light that stays on all night because the timer is set wrong. Or something. We've never been able to figure out what's wrong with it. So whenever anyone crashes on our couch, they say, "Hey, your porch light is staying on all night." And I say, "Yes, we know. Matt's been meaning to fix that, but he's not sure how and anyway, how can he get it done when I'm always crying out for his help like this: 'Help! Help!'"

So it turns out that if you drape outdoor carpeting over a porch light that never shuts off, the light will actually BURN A HOLE THROUGH IT.

Yes. You may have troubles. But you don't have them troubles now, do you?

Underwear & Beer

My husband thinks Oliver will be embarrassed one day when we remind him of the time he spent the afternoon visiting the next-door neighbors' backyard in his Batman briefs. Perhaps. Perhaps not. It is a rather warm day after all.

I have discovered that getting through a day of baby crying during naptime and heavy-duty yardwork is made much easier when you dip into the cocktails around 11:30 a.m. As the country-western song says, "It's five o'clock somewhere."

I haven't enjoyed a nice day of sunshine, gardening and cold beer since before I was pregnant.

Ahhh. Welcome to Memorial Day Weekend at our house.

The end.

CSA So Far...

Thus far, the CSA shares have been a smashing success. I've expanded my chorus of evening meal recipes, inspired by our new vegetables & cheeses. The primary challenge is not to cook fancy meals all evening & then eat so late the pretty peas are too tired to enjoy.

Our first veggie box had sunchokes, ramps, parsnips, black radishes, spinach, spring salad mix, arugula, sorrel, asparagus & chives. Our first cheese box had white mild cheddar, muenster & bleu cheese. The coffee, which made me want to cry it is so good, was Organic Harmony Valley blend from Kickapoo Coffees. It tastes like rich, dark, chocolate-covered cherries mixed into luscious coffee. Ahhhh...

We've used most of the veggies. Here's what we've enjoyed so far:

• Sorrel & Spinach Pesto on Multi-Grain Pasta
• Raw Sliced Sunchokes (which the baby loved)
• Oven-Roasted Sunchokes (too much olive oil, too much cramping afterward)
• Vegetable Pizza with asparagus, ramps, spinach & sun-dried tomatoes (see above photo)
• Steamed Asparagus
• Creamy Sausage & Ramp Pasta (see above, with Morningstar Veggie Sausage)
• Spinach Salad with Italian Balsamic Vinagrette, Chives & Bleu Cheese (see above)
• Stir Fried Tofu & Brown Rice with Ramps, Spinach, Chives, Sorrel & Asparagus
• Cream Cheese Sandwich Spread with Chives, Black Radish, Spinach & Carrots (excellent with cucumbers & multi-grain bread or on a grilled veggie burger w/ the cheddar)
• Pizza Hut Panormous Pizza, Half Pepperoni & Half Mushroom, & Spring Salad Mix

That last one is because we are trying a new routine to get the baby to sleep through the night and I was all done in last evening. We did pizza, board games & the TV hauled up from basement storage to watch part of our first last & only American Idol episode of the season. We ended up shutting it off most of the evening & playing Sorry! to a soundtrack of baby howls. Sigh. We will get through this. We will get through this. We will get through this.

Now, it's on to the Parsnips, Arugula & Muenster - and officiating two weddings this Memorial Day weekend!

* * * * *

Huzzah!

And Now We Are Five...

Oliver's fifth birthday party at Airport Bowl in Richfield, MN

Me: How old are you, Oliver?

O: I'm one whole hand!

Sunchoke Update

I was going to write that the "filthy, loathsome, stinking wind" from eating sunchokes wasn't an issue for my family until I spent the evening with us. Huh.

Sunchokes sliced and eaten raw taste like spring. Like tulip leaves or lilac blossoms covered in earth. They take some getting used to, but they are familiar somehow. I am anxious to see how they will taste when cooked. You can mash or roast them in olive oil. They're a tuber, so you treat them as you would a potato, I guess.

But after last evening, I am a little scared to try...

I am full of fresh, organic vegetables and my body is humming, full of energy and good things. This CSA thing may turn out to be a-okay.

The Governments

Oliver said this today on our walk, while I was pulling him in the wagon. He happened to not be wearing any shoes. As soon as he got to the word "governments" my eyebrows shot up. Way up.

"Mom, do the . . . Are the . . . Does the governments . . . Mom . . . Mom! Do the leaders of the governments what make all the rules for the country let kids go in their bare feets on that playground over there?"

+ + + + +

Springtime at Our House

Our sweet neighbor & her little dog, Luna

Whoa. Whoa! Somebody stop me...

Mr. Will, 14 years old & my constant companion

You must turn your head sideways to watch this movie...

think, think, think

"Oliver, it's time to get your jammies on."

"But Mom, I have so many thinks that I'm thinking in my head,
there isn't any room in there for your idea, too."

Visiting the Farm

Preschool visit to a farm today. Oliver rode a big yellow school bus. When he got back, he announced:

"I learned a whole bunch of stuff."

"What did you learn?"

"I'm going to think about it for awhile." Think. Think. Think.

"Do you remember what you learned?"

"I need more time to think." Think. Think. Think. "Moo."

"You saw a goat? A horse? A cow?"

"Yes!"

"Did you learn about milking?"

"No. Oink."

"You saw a farmer? A chicken? Pigs?"

"Yes!"

"How many did you see?"

"Around a hundred. Or maybe it was 38."

"Do you remember yet what you learned?"

"Yes. Don't step in geese poop."

*************************************************************

Later... thinking about how Mom & Dad got married because they wanted to be a family...

"Mom, when I get to be a grown up, will you help me find my own family?"

"Of course. And we will still be your family, too."

"Okay. Hey, I know! I'll get married to you! Is that okay?"

"Absolutely."

"If I forget to marry you when I'm a grown up, you remind me."

"Okay."

"How will you remember?"

"I could never forget."

And Now We Are One...

Sitting around a friend's campfire the other night, Elliott was on Matt's lap. I was holding Oliver a few chairs down. Suddenly I heard a little voice call, "Mama! Mama!" Elliott was leaned forward and waving his whole arm in a stiff little circle at me, flashing his "ain't I clever" little grin. It was the first time he called out to me, and it was just to see me smile...

A Crunchy, Munchy Veggie Bunchy

We are about to start our CSA, community supported agriculture share, with Harmony Valley Farm, including a twice monthly box of organic vegetables, twice monthly box of organic fruit, once a month 2.5 lb. organic cheese share & 1 lb. of fair trade coffee every two weeks. Local, green, healthy - great.

This will use about half of our monthly grocery money and I am suddenly freaking out. What was I thinking? Our first box will include ramps, sunchokes, black radishes & burdock root. I haven't heard of a single one! Some days, with my two pretty peas, it's all I can do to turn on the oven and pop in a Red Baron frozen pizza. How will I figure out a way to use these strange veggies?

I googled sunchokes & found this description, which delighted me to no end:

The inulin is not well digested by some people, leading to the misconception
that sunchokes are not edible or an assumption that they cause flatulence and
gastric pain. Gerard's Herbal, printed in 1621, quotes the English planter John
Goodyer on Jerusalem artichokes:

"which way soever they be dressed and
eaten, they stir and cause a filthy loathsome stinking wind within the body,
thereby causing the belly to be pained and tormented, and are a meat more fit
for swine than men."

So great. Not only am I going to be feeding my family nothing but weird, crunchy vegetables this summer, but they will fill my babies with a filthy loathsome stinking wind.

Sounds like a plan.