When I was between the ages of five and eight years old, my family lived on the island of Oahu. Yeah, that's Hawaii. Livin' the dream. Not that I knew it was a dream, since I was five years old and all. But it was there that I learned to appreciate a few particular foods that have remained favorites to this day: Asian rice crackers, nori (dried seaweed), and ramen.
You think impoverished college students love ramen? You should go to Hawaii. Ramen is practically a sacred food. And I loved it, in all its overly-salted, MSG-laden glory.
Tonight as we were eating our ginger-flavored chicken soup with vermicelli (also known as rice sticks--just a very thin noodle made of rice flour), I realized that this soup is essentially a higher quality, adult version of ramen. No wonder I love it so much and make it whenever I have the ingredients on hand.
Since all I need to make it are the vermicelli, onions or leeks, homemade chicken stock, carrots, and chicken (plus powdered ginger and soy sauce), I make it every couple of months or so. But it just occurred to me tonight why it is that it's such a happy food for me.
Grown-up ramen. Rock on.
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Friday, January 31, 2014
Ending as We Began
This week started with totally unconnected randomness; how's about we finish it the same way? Yes? Great. Onward.
Cubby's preschool teacher called this afternoon to make sure he was okay, since he did not grace the preschool with his presence once this week. He's fine now; I was just being responsible and keeping him home to make sure he didn't infect the other children. His teacher thanked me for my thoughtfulness on this point.
You are welcome, Ms. Teacher. Please brace yourself for the triumphant return of Cubby on Tuesday of next week, because he's ready to go back to school and I am, uh, ready to have him gone.
Insert standard "I love my child more than my life, but . . ." disclaimer here.
Charlie has a new trick: licking. Yeah. This is very disconcerting when I come upon him french-kissing the window, and even more disconcerting when I'm fending off his slurping tongue from my cheek.
I think it's clear that Charlie's humor is all of the gross-out variety. Hooray.
Dripping noses seem to persist long after they should when children are recovering from colds. My snot-covered clothes are starting to get me down, man. Maybe I should not be so lazy about getting up to get an actual tissue, but . . . I am. Lazy. And covered in dried snot.
And on that high note, I believe I'd better sign off here with my wishes for the best weekend ever! Free of snot and all. Amen.
Cubby's preschool teacher called this afternoon to make sure he was okay, since he did not grace the preschool with his presence once this week. He's fine now; I was just being responsible and keeping him home to make sure he didn't infect the other children. His teacher thanked me for my thoughtfulness on this point.
You are welcome, Ms. Teacher. Please brace yourself for the triumphant return of Cubby on Tuesday of next week, because he's ready to go back to school and I am, uh, ready to have him gone.
Insert standard "I love my child more than my life, but . . ." disclaimer here.
Charlie has a new trick: licking. Yeah. This is very disconcerting when I come upon him french-kissing the window, and even more disconcerting when I'm fending off his slurping tongue from my cheek.
I think it's clear that Charlie's humor is all of the gross-out variety. Hooray.
Dripping noses seem to persist long after they should when children are recovering from colds. My snot-covered clothes are starting to get me down, man. Maybe I should not be so lazy about getting up to get an actual tissue, but . . . I am. Lazy. And covered in dried snot.
And on that high note, I believe I'd better sign off here with my wishes for the best weekend ever! Free of snot and all. Amen.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
The Great Indoors
A combination of bad colds for both kids and bad freezing weather has meant that the troops have (very uncharacteristically) been confined to quarters for the past three days. Behold, the fun to be had indoors:
A little light housekeeping (which is a total sham, as I'm sure you can see by the state of the house in the background).
Some boating.
Accessorizing, with a comb and a clothespin. ("I want to be pretty, Mommy!")
Adventures in self-feeding.
"I'm ready to ride my bucking bronco!"
Cubby's continued illness today meant that he didn't go to preschool, but nor did I want to bring him along to the pediatrician's office*. So A. stayed home with him this morning and broke our indoor streak in a spectacular fashion.
With a sled ride to the beach to view the anchor ice.
Today was the last day of excessively cold temperatures, and I am hopeful it was also the last day of the snot-nosed siblings, so we'll be back to our regularly scheduled outdoor adventures. It was an interesting three days indoors, though, without doubt.
* For those who were wondering: Charlie is still long and skinny. Also kind of a pisser at the doctor's office. Fun.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Collected
A fine collection of random for you this Monday:
Those lambs hanging in the shed still haven't been cut up. And the way this winter is going, they won't be cut up until March. The entire outdoors is one big deep freeze. We have lambsicles out there. A. talked about taking them down and putting them in the cellar to thaw, and then doing the butchering on top of the chest freezer down there. Butchering does seem an appropriate activity for the Pit of Despair.
One of Charlie's favorite things to do is covertly chuck random items into the kitchen sink. This is kind of funny when I discover things like his toy cows or a plastic hammer unexpectedly in the sink. It is not so funny when he finds a drinking glass on the floor and decides to make that part of his game. Our sink is porcelain-covered iron. Glass shatters on contact with its surface. Super.
Because I like to be original and not at all a cliche of a stay-at-home mother (HA. HAHAHAHA), I decided to get the Jillian Michaels' 30-Day Shred DVD. Today is day four, and I can sum up this experience thusly: OW.
I do not think, however, that the spare ribs and sauerkraut I made for dinner last night are on her accompanying eating plan. But they were really good.
I am really, really hoping that this week's forecasted super-cold weather does not result in yet another preschool closing for Cubby. Mostly because I have to take Charlie to the pediatrician for a check-up and shots on Wednesday and I cleverly scheduled that during preschool so I don't have to wrangle both of them at the same time in a confined space.
I think that's enough. Top of the morning to you, and have a lovely day.
Those lambs hanging in the shed still haven't been cut up. And the way this winter is going, they won't be cut up until March. The entire outdoors is one big deep freeze. We have lambsicles out there. A. talked about taking them down and putting them in the cellar to thaw, and then doing the butchering on top of the chest freezer down there. Butchering does seem an appropriate activity for the Pit of Despair.
One of Charlie's favorite things to do is covertly chuck random items into the kitchen sink. This is kind of funny when I discover things like his toy cows or a plastic hammer unexpectedly in the sink. It is not so funny when he finds a drinking glass on the floor and decides to make that part of his game. Our sink is porcelain-covered iron. Glass shatters on contact with its surface. Super.
Because I like to be original and not at all a cliche of a stay-at-home mother (HA. HAHAHAHA), I decided to get the Jillian Michaels' 30-Day Shred DVD. Today is day four, and I can sum up this experience thusly: OW.
I do not think, however, that the spare ribs and sauerkraut I made for dinner last night are on her accompanying eating plan. But they were really good.
I am really, really hoping that this week's forecasted super-cold weather does not result in yet another preschool closing for Cubby. Mostly because I have to take Charlie to the pediatrician for a check-up and shots on Wednesday and I cleverly scheduled that during preschool so I don't have to wrangle both of them at the same time in a confined space.
I think that's enough. Top of the morning to you, and have a lovely day.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Going Down with the Ship
Captain Cubby, en route to Sandy Island to see his friend Turtle. (That's what he told me.)
With First Mate Charlie at the stern.
Mayday! Mayday, Mommy! Danger ahead!
And the predictable fate of the once-proud vessel (and its crew).
P.S. I made some joke at this point about how the laundry basket must have been the Edmund Fitzgerald. Captain Cubby informed me quite seriously that it was not, because it didn't have a hole in it (photographic evidence of said laundry basket/boat does show MANY holes, in fact, but we'll let it slide). And then he told me the tragedy was the result of the boat running out of its fuel: dill powder.
I guess anything is fair game for eco-friendly fuel these days.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
The Cold that Killed the Weather Station
The SAD FACE weather station got so sad last night, it committed suicide.
At least, it got so cold last night that the weather station stopped functioning. When we got up at 5:30 this morning (thanks, Charlie!), A. went right to the weather station for a reading and found that there was no reading. The outside sensor--which runs on batteries--stopped working. A check of the old-fashioned mercury thermometer outside revealed that it was currently a toasty 10 degrees below zero.
A., our resident weather fanatic, was enthused about the low reading. I was not so enthused when I realized it meant the preschool would not be open today.
SAD FACE indeed. Especially since Cubby woke up this morning at 7 a.m. with both loud and hyperactive guns blazing. Figuratively speaking, of course.
But then, I remembered that it's Wednesday morning. And Wednesday morning means story hour at the village library! HOORAY! Almost as good as preschool.
Charlie and I have not been attending the story hour since Cubby started preschool, because frankly I enjoy my only-one-child time too much to willingly attend an event that features more like twenty children, but I sure was grateful for it today.
So we whooped it up at the library and then came home for lunch. As the kids were eating, I started wiping down various disgusting areas of the baseboards in the breakfast room we eat in, which is when I discovered that our bedroom isn't the only room with ice on the walls.
Yup, there was ice covering the bottom of the wall and the baseboards in the corner of the kitchen with an exposed exterior corner. In fact, the box of grapefruit that had been on the floor there--for obvious purposes of VERY cold storage--had actually frozen to the wall.
SUPER.
But hey, at least it wasn't my pillow.
At least, it got so cold last night that the weather station stopped functioning. When we got up at 5:30 this morning (thanks, Charlie!), A. went right to the weather station for a reading and found that there was no reading. The outside sensor--which runs on batteries--stopped working. A check of the old-fashioned mercury thermometer outside revealed that it was currently a toasty 10 degrees below zero.
A., our resident weather fanatic, was enthused about the low reading. I was not so enthused when I realized it meant the preschool would not be open today.
SAD FACE indeed. Especially since Cubby woke up this morning at 7 a.m. with both loud and hyperactive guns blazing. Figuratively speaking, of course.
But then, I remembered that it's Wednesday morning. And Wednesday morning means story hour at the village library! HOORAY! Almost as good as preschool.
Charlie and I have not been attending the story hour since Cubby started preschool, because frankly I enjoy my only-one-child time too much to willingly attend an event that features more like twenty children, but I sure was grateful for it today.
So we whooped it up at the library and then came home for lunch. As the kids were eating, I started wiping down various disgusting areas of the baseboards in the breakfast room we eat in, which is when I discovered that our bedroom isn't the only room with ice on the walls.
Yup, there was ice covering the bottom of the wall and the baseboards in the corner of the kitchen with an exposed exterior corner. In fact, the box of grapefruit that had been on the floor there--for obvious purposes of VERY cold storage--had actually frozen to the wall.
SUPER.
But hey, at least it wasn't my pillow.
Monday, January 20, 2014
A.P.D.--The Scrubbing Edition
I made an apple crisp for dessert last night. It was a party-sized crisp in a 13x9 inch pan, and so there were actually some leftovers. Miracle of miracles. Only about two servings were left, but at least that's something. The leftovers were put into the refrigerator in the Pyrex pan the crisp was orginally baked in.
Which leads us to the scrubbing part. Because baked-on brown sugar that's been sitting in the refrigerator for 24 hours is no joke in the dishes department.
Now some people would probably soak that dish until the morning, by which point everything would be nicely softened and easier to get off. Not me. I let it soak for the amount of time it took me to wipe down the counters, and then I attacked with the steel wool.
I love steel wool. It allows me to avoid soaking, which I hate. I will scrub a pan until my fingers cramp to avoid an overnight soak. I don't know why exactly; I guess I just can't stand to leave something undone.
Which leads us to the question of the day: Are you a soaker or a scrubber? Or can you actually put something that gnarly in the dishwasher and have it emerge clean?
Which leads us to the scrubbing part. Because baked-on brown sugar that's been sitting in the refrigerator for 24 hours is no joke in the dishes department.
Now some people would probably soak that dish until the morning, by which point everything would be nicely softened and easier to get off. Not me. I let it soak for the amount of time it took me to wipe down the counters, and then I attacked with the steel wool.
I love steel wool. It allows me to avoid soaking, which I hate. I will scrub a pan until my fingers cramp to avoid an overnight soak. I don't know why exactly; I guess I just can't stand to leave something undone.
Which leads us to the question of the day: Are you a soaker or a scrubber? Or can you actually put something that gnarly in the dishwasher and have it emerge clean?
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