Quirky

I have been lucky enough to be graced with a child who loves vegetables. LOVES them. He'll eat any fruit and vegetable put in front of him (though he's a little suspicious of eggplant). He chews on raw chard stems in the garden.

I realized last night how odd this might be as I was dishing up dinner and told A., "I don't want Cubby to see the C-A-B-B-A-G-E before he eats some of his meat and squash, because once he sees it, he won't want to eat anything else."

That's right. I have to spell cabbage lest I excite my child too much. Granted, it was Burned Cabbage, which is pretty damn good, but still. Weird kid.

But the best kind of weird. Definitely.

What Day Is It? Tuesday?

So, not a Friday and not a Monday (which is the new Friday). But I'm still going to talk about alcohol today. I suppose this means that every day is now eligible to be an Alcohol Day here.

Don't read too much into that.

Today we will discuss the Apple Sidecar. This is apparently a thing already, but I swear I didn't know that until I started writing this and searching for things online to link to.

Last night I decided to take one of my favorite cocktails of all time and once again twist it to suit my own particular ingredients. This time, we had some cider (some, HA--about two gallons still) and applejack, which the MiL had picked up along with some more Cava so we could all have some more Manzanitas de Piedra Negra.

But I think I'm just going to call them Blackrock Apples from now on, because that Spanish name is too long to type.

ANYWAY.

We had our Blackrock Apples on Sunday, and they were again delicious. I highly recommend that cocktail. Then we still had plenty of applejack left. Applejack is basically apple brandy, but with some grain alcohol added. Brandy is the main ingredient in a Sidecar, along with triple sec and lemon juice. So, I figured if I used the applejack instead of plain brandy, then I could use apple cider in place of the triple sec--for the sweet element--and then keep the lemon juice. Plus some water, because I nearly always water my drinks. I'm weak like that.

ANYWAY AGAIN.

As you may have guessed, this is a winning combination. My pleasure in it was only slightly dimmed by discovering that someone else had thought of it too. So I'm not totally original. So what? It's still a damn good drink and you should try it.

So! If you want to try this at home, it's a shot of applejack, half a shot of cider, and the juice from about half a lemon. Plus ice, and, if you're weak like me, some water to taste.

Have a happy Tuesday, duckies! Even if it doesn't feature cocktails.

Boy Crazy

Not that kind of boy crazy. No, the kind of crazy that happens when it's All Boys, All the Time, which seems to be the case more often than not in this place of boy babies.

A climbable farm utility vehicle plus a dog? Boy heaven, right there.

A swing full of juvenile testosterone. And my friend Alyssa, who is the mother of two of these boys, bless her patient and courageous heart.

These three are going to be an even more formidable trio in ten years or so. And in 15 years, all of them will be driving. God help us all.

Bundled

After a day of relentless wind and fairly cold temperatures, the temperature in our bedroom last night when I went to bed was a relatively chilly 54 degrees. Since we sleep in the north room, 54 degrees is downright balmy compared to the ridiculous readings we will have in there later in the year. But 54 degrees is plenty cold enough.

Especially since I didn't have my bed warmer on hand.

My bed warmer is A. He must have really good circulation or something, because he doesn't need to be in bed more than ten minutes to raise the temperature under the blankets at least five degrees. This is not so appreciated in our un-air-conditioned room in the summer, but in the winter, it saves my life. It takes me FOREVER to warm up when I go to bed. I don't have good circulation, and my feet will stay cold for a good hour after going to bed.

So I took appropriate measures last night in preparation for a night by myself in bed. First, I kept on the long-sleeved shirt I had worn as a bottom layer yesterday. Not removing all your clothing is key in cold weather to conserving some body heat. If you change every item of clothing, then your body first has to heat those clothes up, which saps precious heating energy from things like feet. So I left that on. Then I put on a heavy sweatshirt, fuzzy socks, and heavy pajama bottoms.

Then I jumped in our bed, which is currently covered in flannel sheets, a wool blanket, a heavy cotton coverlet, and a down comforter. And I stayed frozen in one spot for a good fifteen minutes, lest by moving I should come into contact with an inch of bed covers that had not been warmed by my body heat.

However, I did warm up and fall asleep relatively quickly, which was the goal. And then I woke up two hours later BURNING UP and had to shed the pants and socks.

But lest I sound as if I complain too much, I should mention that A. was gone because he was hunting. And camping. In the snow. So he was definitely much more uncomfortable than I was last night.

He'll be home tonight. We'll both be glad about that.

Who Am I?

Yesterday afternoon, Cubby and I were hanging out in the shop with A. while he made a sheath for one of his homemade knives. He used a squirrel hide that he had salted some time ago and sewed it up with a needle and some button thread I found in our sewing drawer.

Exactly when I became a mother who spends quality time with her family that involves stitching dead animal hides, I do not know, but it seems clear I am no longer going country. I am so, so gone.

Canine Resignation

Oh no. Here he comes again. I know how this ends.

Yeah yeah. Trot trot. The same thing, every time.

Please. A little respect, child.

So this is how it's gonna be from now on then, huh? Fine. But you owe me BIG TIME, lady.

Already

Already this morning I've had to change both my clothes and Cubby's, due to an unfortunate incidence with dog poop. He both stepped in it (GROSS) and then got it all over my pants when I picked him up, AND picked it up with his hands (SO MUCH GROSSER, CHILD, STOP THAT). And then, after we had been inside to wash our hands, we went back outside and he fell into a pile of (cold, not to worry) ash on the driveway from leaf burning*.

So, new clothes for all, then!

And then A. and I went to vote, so I put on some semi-respectable clothing for my public outing. But now I have to change AGAIN back into not-respectable clothing so I can go clean out the gutters.

That's just how mornings with toddlers--specifically at Blackrock--go, I suppose.

Off to the gutters I go. Wish me luck.

* A pile of ash in which I found the metal part of my trowel. Cubby ran off with it about a week ago and I couldn't find it. Apparently it was hiding in the leaves that got raked up and subsequently burned. The handle was rubber, and it burned clean off. The blade part is still all there and fine, though, so I can get A. to make me a wooden handle to stick on there, I guess. Fun.