Sunday, September 29, 2013

Two weeks of catching up, no catsup, however

borscht for a freind

The boy and I out to dinner at Mi Mole, too spicy for both of us, although I like the flavor profile

my other baby

He had to play in the band for a football game, and didn't come home until almost 11:00 Friday and I missed him a lot, this is such an ugly picture of me, but I like it of Maxwell, so I'm leaving it.

because we are silly

my new red dress, on my way to meet an old friend for coffee, two weeks ago, before all the rain. I've had those shoes for over 20 years.  They are excellent shoes.

Working early Saturday makes me a little cranky

Rolf treated me for my birthday, a mere nine month late.  Bar Dobre, I love it, the green walls, the sauerkraut, the beets, the candlelight, the grapefruit cocktails.

I made an apple pie, because I like apple pie and I am good at making them, and I wanted to do something that made me feel competent and accomplished, so there.

Freyja and her friend made pizza, which they didn't really eat much of.  They had more fun playing out in the pouring rain.

Pie + Pizza = Motherly love 

What we talk about when we talk about rain

The first big rain of the year started up yesterday and hasn't let up since; it's supposed to go on until Thursday. 
It spoiled Freyja's soccer game, and forced me inside for a work event, but other than a bit of wet hair, the rain doesn't disturb me one bit. 

Having Freyja cooped up all weekend is disturbing, but she is a high maintenance child, that much is well documented.

I was talking to a poet friend about heritage the other evening. 

We talk often over "chat" which feels perfectly normal for me, but seems funny to some folks. 

It is funny I guess, but it's what I have, so there you go.

He said he doesn't feel that connected to his families heritage, which seems strange to me. 

I grew up being told the same stories over and over, on both sides of my family.  Who did what back during the depression.  What it was like on the farm during the war. What happened when the indentured servants got here from Ireland and ran off.  Who ran around with the James Gang, who rode the train across the country, who was a Quaker, who was German,  who was an orphan, who had red hair, who had blue eyes.  
Great detailed accounts of both my parent's and grandparent's lives.  I knew my great-grandparents well, and my grandfather's grandmother died when I was a teenager.  A benefit to having teen parents, I suppose.

My friend told me a couple of stories he did know about his grandparents. 

I told him about my family and the red braid my aunt is so proud of, that was whacked off of the dead body of one of our great-grandmother's when she died in childbirth.  My mother always gets irritated when my Aunt Ruth tells that story.  Ruth is very fond of genealogy, and also of speculation.

What do your suppose she died of... ? Was she all alone? 

Which always prompts my mother to say something like who cares? Which hurts my aunt's feelings.  She is very invested in this character, her red braid and her unknowable story.  It is the unknowable part that touches my aunt so, and leaves my mother so cold.  My mother is interested in the concrete, my aunt is invested in the what ifs.  It is a fundamental difference in temperament that separates people, not just these two. 

My friend is a poet and writes professionally.  He recently wrote an short essay on our friendship.  On my kindness during his divorce, and the loss of his young child, to distance.  I was stunned by this essay, because I assume most people would be kind, but I learned that they were not very kind, they were somewhat indifferent, or annoyed that he was sad. 

This is another fundamental human difference in people, how we treat sadness, or feelings. 

My willingness to listen to people's stories is often perceived as niceness, when in reality, it is more a desire to be heard when the time comes.  Carving out a path, where someone might reciprocate, I suppose.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Fur S with love and cheese

I had an e-mail from my dear S asking if I was ok, since I hadn't been blogging much lately, and well I suppose, I am technically okish, but it has been a grind.  Aunt Karen came for a few days, we are back to school, activities and working full tilt.  So we had a few nice evenings, we met up at Bread and Ink for happy hour, because I had a long week and didn't feel like cooking, or thinking or working very hard, once I got home from work.  I was surprised to see Maxwell taller than Rolf, that seemed strange and unexpected. 

 then I made an elaborate Italian meal with anchovies in the salad and two sauces, because I felt guilty for being so wicked and lazy.

I have two friends in the hospital, one is quite ill, which made me terribly sad.  I made food, I delivered it, I felt inadequate and teary.

Tired and concerned with all the sick people I know

It was warm enough to sit outside until late, playing Chinese checkers and admiring the poodle
a great deal of cheese
Onions for spaetzle

Karen and I toasting to old friends and the power of beets.  I am looking hideous in a crew neck dress, someone should have warned me.

Make some noodles YO!

Pudding and checkers the great healers

Because we are so classy!

A crown for my friend Tony's child, finished at last.  Karen wore it a bit, Queen of Everything!

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Where I been at part II

Goat cheese, plum, thyme tart Freyja and I made this weekend, because we CAN and we DO!

Ketchup, made with plums, peaches, and garden tomatoes, because we had a lot and we were making burgers, yo!

She's a pro!


Before, goat cheese emulsification, with olive oil and thyme.

In the mean time we cut and simmered the fruits

Goat Cheese + Ricotta (you pronounce it Ric COAT a, unless you want to sound like a redneck, is what I said).

What plus What makes pie crust Freyja? Fat plus flour! In this case we ground oats, filberts, and almonds, with butter!

You must use your hands, even if it feels yucky!

Maxwell and I went school shopping at the Red Light and had some excellent lunch at Bread & Ink, my favorite place.

Blackberry lemonade.  We also hit Powells, Maxwell is reading "one flew over the cuckoos nest", me? Denis Johnson. Maxwell said "this is the best sandwich in the whole world, of B & I's prawnburger.  I had coffee and a waffle, because I am silly like that.

The cupcake portion of the wedding cakes.  I also made this teensy LOVE banner, I am not responsible for the love letters on the table. 

6 LAYERS. baby, just saying!

My home girl was WEEDING like a crazy woman right up until the end, because she is tough like that! Look how cute my banner is! Totally cute!

Pack up sister! My mom, two friends and Mark all hauled a lot of cake & flowers, to the Volvo! It was very scary!

a little bit of frosting will hide the imperfections!

Mommy, please come lay with me, I have hardly had you at all for days and days.

My wedding face is on!

Maxwell started high school today and things went fine. 

He is much more resilient than I ever was, than I am today. 
Both kids are. 
I have done a good job as far as self efficacy goes. 
There is little question in either of their minds on where their place in the world is. 
I take a lot of credit for that.  You take credit where you can when you are a parents, I suppose.

I took a training in June with a fancy PhD guy that teaches child development. 

I am not easily impressed, but this fellow impressed me, despite his arrogant manner and his silly tattoos.   He said "tell them something true", children. 

He's right, children, like most people want to hear the truth. 

It is best when the truth is something positive, naturally, but we were working off that assumption, the assumption that teacher and parents want what is good for children and people.