Consuming

Our typical Saturday includes things like trash hauling and various tasks involving manual labor. Which is why this Saturday was so weird for us.

We went shopping.

I KNOW.

I hate shopping, just so you know. But we're in the process of buying a new car (new-used, of course, not new-new), so we went to a nearby city to look at various options at a dealer there. We didn't buy a car right then, of course. But I think we're going to get a Subaru Outback wagon, when we find the right one. (Cue horror stories from numerous people who HATE their Subarus and want to SET THEM ON FIRE and Subarus ARE THE DEVIL EEEEE!)

Then we went home past an outlet center, where we stopped to get A. some shoes. He's worn holes right through the soles of his dress shoes. He was tired of sitting through court with wet feet, trying to keep his feet flat on the floor so no one saw the holes. So we bought him some new ones. Also some shoes for Cubby, who actually had NO shoes. Well, no shoes that actually fit, anyway.

Then we stopped at the Mennonite store on the way home to get some butter and cheese. By the time we finished all this, both of us were totally exhausted. Shopping is way more tiring than working in the garden.

How Typical

I took Cubby to the pediatrician today for his one-year appointment and you'll never guess what happened! No, I didn't wait for an hour and a half to see the doctor, like last time. In fact, because A. had to go to court in the Small City only an hour before Cubby's appointment, we drove in together, so I was half an hour early and they just called me right back! Miracle!

A miracle that was promptly negated by the nurse informing me that WHOOPS! Cubby can't have his one-year vaccinations until he is really, truly, and without a doubt EXACTLY A YEAR OLD. Which will not be until next Friday.

I said some very, very bad words in my head at this point.

Out loud, however, I merely expressed some mild displeasure (it wasn't the nurse's fault, after all--she's not responsible for scheduling) at having to bring him back in a week and told her we could just do the physical exam today since I was there anyway.

The physical exam revealed that Cubby had gained about a pound and a half and two inches. So he is now 22 pounds and 32 inches. Tall and slender. Must be all the running around he's doing.

Then we went to meet A. at the public library. Except because we were done really early and A. was somewhat late, Cubby and I ended up hanging around the library for an hour and a half. That is a very, VERY long time with a toddler who has passed his nap time. He was in total meltdown mode by the time we got home, but he is now asleep.

Too bad it's too early for a cocktail. Mommy could use one.

Bandwagon, Here I Come!

Allow me to jump on the particular bandwagon of Superbowl food today, yes?

You knew the Superbowl is this weekend, right? If you didn't, not to worry. In a normal year, I wouldn't know either, because I pay less than maximum attention to football. In fact, I pay NO attention to it, or any other televised sports. But I do pay attention to my family, all of whom are passionate Green Bay Packers fans. Except my mom. She's a fan, but only because she's married to my father, who is from Milwaukee. It might have been in her marriage vows that she's obligated to cheer for the Packers.

ANYWAY.

The rest of my family watches all the Packers games all season long. I do not. Not that I could, as they're not often broadcast here and we don't have a sports channel. But I did watch the play-off game with the Packers and the Bears. Well, as much as I COULD watch while entertaining Cubby at the same time. Luckily, he thought it was somewhat entertaining when I would clap and say, "Go Pack go!" so that helped.

Maybe I should get to the food part now? Right.

So the Packers are in the Superbowl this year, and I must watch. My dad is sending Cubby a little Packers sweatsuit and me a sweatshirt, so we'll be appropriately garbed for the game. The only thing left is appropriate food. I am aware that it should include bratwurst, but . . . I don't really like bratwurst all that much, so probably not. What I DO like? Chips and dip. God, I love chips and dip. It's the main reason I go to Superbowl parties. Salsa, guacamole, seven-layer, French onion, whatever. If I can dip chips into it, I'm happy.

And now, duckies, please share with me your favorite Superbowl food. Who knows? I might end up making it and eating it while wearing my Packers sweatshirt.

Anticlimax

Yesterday the MiL put on Good Morning America, which had all these screaming headlines about THE BIGGEST STORM IN HISTORY! And U.S. BRACES FOR STORM! And WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!

And so on.

Many hysterical stories about this massive storm, many hysterical weathermen (oh, sorry--meteorologists) doing breakdowns of two separate storm systems and when they might hit and what the snowfall totals might be and where there might be sleet or freezing rain and what to do to get ready*. . .

Yeah. I woke up to maybe two inches of snow this morning. So much for that.

Maybe we'll get pounded later today, but somehow I doubt it. This is one Weather Event that ended up being less than eventful.

* If you live in the northeast and don't know what to do to get ready for a winter storm, what are you doing here? Seriously.

I'm Glad Today Is Over

Cubby woke up at 6:15 this morning. He went to bed twelve (long, loooong) hours later. In those 12 hours, he took only one nap that lasted all of one hour.

God help me.

Also, he has a cold, A. has a cold, and I am getting a cold.

Tomorrow will be better.

Is It that Time Already?

Yes! It is time for the first gardening talk of the year! WHEEE!!!

I finally managed to look through the basket of seeds to see what we have and what we need. We have a lot, thanks to a couple of years of maybe over-enthusiastic and over-ambitious seed-purchasing. But really, is there any other kind of seed-purchasing?

In fact, I think we could probably just make do with what we have. But I might still get one or two packets of seeds for varieties of tomatoes that the nearby nursery doesn't grow into handy little seedlings for me. Because what would spring be without the early onset of The Tomato Crazy?

Pretty dull, obviously.

I'm trying to give myself something of a break this year, though. I'm not going to start much from seed, instead just buying seedlings. This will save some work and worry in the early part of the season, anyway. Not a LOT of work, as all the seedlings I buy still have to be planted and mulched and tended and harvested and canned and . . . well, let's just say I won't be bored.

Except we do have quite a few packets of almost-empty and somewhat old tomato seeds that I'll probably end up starting just to use them up. Which means I'll probably still end up with two dozen tomato seedlings in the bathroom and sometime around May I'll be calling people up and pleading with them to take my extra Jet Star seedlings because if they don't I'll be forced to plant them all and then I'll be forced to harvest five million pounds of tomatoes and THEN I'll be forced to can five million pounds of tomatoes and . . .

Well. It's The Tomato Crazy. It never really stops.

The Hard Part

Just like life in general, having livestock means that sometimes you win (hello, adorable spring lambs!) and sometimes you lose (good-bye, Tillie's lamb). Yesterday, we lost.

Despite several days of diligent nursing, Donnie the Ram succumbed last night to a mysterious ailment. The rest of the flock seems to be okay, thankfully. And Donnie's legacy will live on in the lambs that will (we presume) be born in the spring.

Farewell, Don Juan, lover of ewes. You did your duty faithfully and well.