Ordinary Time

I've the decided the problem with the idea behind America's Test Kitchen is that it is solely populated with adults. Sure, you can do amazing things and try out 59 ways to cook the same dish to discover which is better without any distractions. But I bet what mothers really want to know is what items can be prepared while being distracted with any number of things, including small children. I'm sure you've all discovered recipes that do not follow through on their claims, either for amount or time or how good it is supposed to taste. The real question is not which is the best way to prepare something, but can it be prepared in less than ideal circumstances, be served at a reasonable time, and be edible. So why should I be the test kitchen? Well, first, I have a really workable kitchen. Lots of counters, big stove, double-ovens. All the stuff that a test kitchen would need. But even better, I have distractions galore. It's not every test kitchen that also has three...

is not actually starting today, but sometime this week, I hope. Two summers ago I was very diligent about preserving food. I ended up with quarts and quarts of canned fruit and pickles and jam and applesauce . I also had plenty of frozen fruit in my freezer that we had picked. It felt good and I didn't buy any canned fruit or jam or applesauce or pickles at all the next year. That felt really, really good.  Last summer? Well, not much canning happened. Actually the only preserving that went on was to freeze the flat of cherries I bought at the farmer's market and can the case of pears I bought at the grocery store when they were less than 30 cents a pound. It was meager effort. In my defense there were mitigating circumstances. First, we had just brought home H. and I was completely unprepared for exactly how taxing, both mentally and physically, that would be. I had very little energy left over to do much of anything, much less can. The other factor that didn't help ...

Do you ever feel as though you are a modern hunter/gatherer when it comes to groceries? I do, especially after this afternoon. Six stores later, I think I am done with errands and stores and grocery stores, at least for a few days. Now, admittedly, not all six stores involved food. The first three were to pick-up things that we needed, but not to eat. First, D. informed me that he had no shorts at all, so the first stop was the thrift store to supply him with those. Then, the dollar store is right next door to the thrift store so I popped in hoping to find some wide, stretchy headbands for H. It's easier to keep her hair out of her face at this point and we have found that a wide stretchy headband with a ponytail (because her hair is over 6 inches longer than it was a year ago) is a cute look. But, no headbands. Then we headed to that store with the big red bulls eye. You know, the one where you go in to buy a bag of socks and walk out $100 poorer because of all the other thing...

That would be a pity party to be exact. It was yesterday... sorry I didn't invite you. I don't know why they say misery loves company, because it really doesn't. The party wasn't actually all that fun anyway and you didn't miss a whole lot. Well, except me driving away from the house to mail some bills informing my children that if they wanted dinner they could cook some scrambled eggs and when their father got home that he could take care of the little girl in the upstairs bathroom who didn't quite make it to the toilet. Again. I will admit to not rushing to and from the post office, but I was slightly more balanced when I returned home. Slightly. It was not really one of my finer days. Can I just say that I am the married to the most patient, caring, and amazing man in the world? He is able to step into the breech, get things under control, take care of a slightly unbalanced wife, and still manage to get some doctoral work done. Yep, pretty amazing. So I a...

"What I say," said Eeyore, "is that it's unsettling. I didn't want to come on this Expo -- what Pooh said. I only came to oblige. But here I am; and if I am the end of the Expo -- what we're talking about -- then let me be the end. But if, every time I want to sit down for a little rest, I have to brush away half a dozen of Rabbit's smaller friends-and-relations first, then this isn't an Expo -- whatever it is -- at all, it's simply a Confused Noise."  (From Winnie-the-Pooh by A. A. Milne) This was part of the chapter that I read to G. and L. at naptime today and it pretty much sums up my morning. It was simply a Confused Noise. You (the parent) decide it is a grand day to set out on an expedition (learn new things, do projects, play outside, etc.) and all that happens is you end up brushing away small creatures all morning who are making lots of noise. The other quote that nearly made me laugh out loud was: "Hallo, Rabbit," ...

We went in to the plastic surgeon's office this morning so they could check how H. is doing. The drains are still in for a couple more days, though the nurse redid the dressing holding them so that they were more comfortable. It turns out that not only are they redirecting excess liquid, but the suction that they cause is helping to keep the skin in place so that it can better remain in place. (Sorry if that is a bit too gruesome...) We also seem to be past the point where they are concerned about infection and are switching from keeping the sutures covered with Bacitracin to using Aquafore. Evidently Aquafore is the plastic surgeon's best friend and it should help with the itching as the sutures heal and will also help the healing process in general, cutting down on scarring. The nurse went on and on about all the ways she uses it and we may also try using it on K.'s incredibly dry hands. H.'s face is still very, very swollen, which I sort of knew (her eye is evide...

H. continues to slowly heal, though her eye is still tightly swollen shut and she does NOT like it. The best comment of the day came this morning from K., who looked at H. and announced, "Hey! I didn't know that H.'s cheek looked just like everybody else's!" He was looking at the repaired side, and being able to overlook the sutures realized that it didn't look all that different anymore. Of course, I think he missed the whole surgery-thing, but he probably wasn't paying all that much attention because it didn't have to do with cars in any form. Sometimes he can be happily clueless. But what continues to roll around in my head in between my nursing efforts on one hand and my referee career on the other is the book The Boy Who Would be a Helicopter by Vivian Gussin Paley, which I read while H. was in surgery. I still don't have anything coherent to say, but wanted to share a couple of the great many quotes I wrote down from it. (Some background....