3 Minutes.

We missed the plane by three minutes.

We thought we'd make it. Right up until the time that the woman at the gate said, "You missed the plane."  Now, since the time was seven minutes prior to take-off, I thought that she surely was joking and would soon smile and let us on.

Not so much.

The plane was still at the gate, but they stop boarding 10 minutes before.  And so that is why we missed it by three minutes.

Not that we didn't leave the house 5.5 hours early or anything. *sigh*  Had everything gone as planned we would have been at the gate with almost three hours to spare.  But no.  We got nearly halfway to the airport and realized that we'd forgotten Mozart's birth certificate.  The last time we flew we were told we would need it.  That put us a good step behind.  Then Boston traffic.  Then the shuttle from parking was delayed as it had to get gas.  Then the TSA line.  Oh Lord, the TSA lines.  Any one of those things not happening and we would have been able to catch that flight.

After begging our way past some people in the TSA line, then getting stopped by a  haughty young man who very calmly said, "Well, my plane is boarding too," finally making our way through security, and hauling A$$ through the longest terminal run I've seen, with TW pulling Mozart behind in a GoGoBabyz - hands and feet waving and singing "weeeeeeeee", and me trailing behind carrying and pulling all the bags and coats, and nearly having an asthma attack, we just didn't make it.

They did rebook us on the 6am flight the next morning.  We are very fortunate in that respect.  And we had a very lovely, albeit overpriced even at "distressed passenger rates", night at the Hilton where we got a full 3.5 hrs sleep before getting up and in a much calmer fashion got to the gate in time to board!

And we even got to Nana & Grandad's house in time for the party that was scheduled for 10am.

We are recovered.

And just in time for two dumpings of snow.  Beautiful, but I've had enough shoveling for the winter, thanks.

Prancer is down with it, though, and so we had to postpone our Christmas with him.  It was the saddest thing ~ I shoveled all morning so I could get the car out of the driveway and called over to verify we'd be picking him up shortly.  He answered in a not-so-bright voice and when asked how his morning was instead of the usual re-telling of various cartoons or trouble he'd gotten into, I got a weak sounding, "Not good."  So hopefully we'll be able to reschedule.

Thankfully, Mozart is fully recovered (and I didn't succumb).  When he was well enough, we went over to Mme. Child's house for dinner.  While the adults were in the kitchen the children played quietly.  Though we didn't *think* too quietly.  Alas, a bloodied Mozart came into the room after having "crashed the angels".  Mme. Child's very precious Lenox angels. Two of them.  And a snowman. And a Santa.  They could not be salvaged, though we were able to salvage Mozart's hands with several bandages.

Next day we went to the children's party at my work.  Mozart, of course, thought Santa had come to see him exclusively.  He could have held court on the man's lap for hours.  Before he was convinced not to take up any more time, Santa asked what happened to his hands, to which he replied, matter-of-factly, "Oh, those just my Angel Boo-Boos."

The Angel Boo-Boos have nearly healed and don't need bandages any longer, and though Mozart would clearly like to have them, he can now be distracted away from needing them.

One last tale:

This morning I had been out shoveling from the wee hours.  When I cam back in I hear, "Mama! I am awake!  I am in a good mood!"  Very pleased by this, I go to collect him for breakfast.  While getting it together, he says, "I had good dreams.  So, I am in a good mood."  I asked him what his dreams were about, thinking they were likely about Santa or fire trucks as these are the things he talks most about these days, but his reply: "COOKIES!  Lots of them!!!"

A Bad Thing.

This past week has been consumed by the dreaded stomach bug.  First Mozart, then TW.  I have gratefully (am now I am furiously knocking on wood) managed to avoid it.  There have been many comical moments during this time.  Many not-so-comical moments.  I will share some of the comical:

Mozart, through barely open, puffed up and watery eyes, in a tired and barely audible voice, "No, I good. I not sick anymore.  Went to the doctor.  All better now."  And then he promptly fell asleep.

In the middle of the night, "Mama, I awake now.  Let's go downstairs, have breakfast."  Me, "No, sweetheart, it's still sleeping time."  Mozart, "Ok, I just need some water. Can I have some water?"  Me, "Yes, of course, where is your cup?" He pulls it out and shows it to me, and I say, "Go ahead. Have some."  He looks surprised by the idea, and said, "Can I?"  Me, "Yes, darling, go ahead."  He drinks deeply and says, "Thanks.  Now you can turn off the light."

Yesterday morning, while I was not sure I would get by without a run-in with said stomach bug, I sat, feeling rather green, and had a large bowl next to me.  Mozart comes over, looks at me, looks at the bowl, picks it up and fake-pukes into the bowl.  Charming.  Very charming.

I will not share the not-so-comical moments of the last week.  They are just too horrible.

A Good Thing.

I could look back and see if I mentioned it, but don't have the time.  I joined the Y again back in September.  YIPPEEE!  I feel so, SO much better when I exercise regularly.  And so I have been.  Five days a week, with the exception of holidays, one sick day and one overslept day, I have been regularly since I joined.  I went from being winded to with 10 minutes of fast walking on the treadmill to now being able to, just this morning, jog for 28 minutes!!  When I hit my 30 minute goal of stamina, I'll increase the speed bit by bit, or do intervals or something.

In addition to being exceedingly proud of myself (I think I deserve to pat myself on the back a bit), I have more energy in general, and my face has thinned out.  I haven't lost any actual weight - in fact I may be a couple pounds heavier, but honestly, I feel good.

I should post.

Haven't really been inspired to write since BatCat died, but I figure that I'd better get back to it or I'll drop off again like I did with the last blog.  Stubby has been let back into the house.  1st Floor only.  Not full time, yet, as he'd have none of that since he now likes the out of doors.  I had given away all indoor-cat-related things when both cats were relegated to the outdoors, so the day after we lost BatCat, I headed over to Tractor Supply and got a new litter box, a great supply of litter, a scoop, a couple cat toys, Nature's Miracle (which, thankfully, we've yet to use), and Feline Pet Ease (the equivalent of a natural Xanax for cats).

At first Stubby was scared to even come in at all.  Then when he realized that this would be where his meals were, he started arriving at the door at the appointed times.  It has been easier to get him to stay inside at night as Mozart goes to bed about the time he gets fed, so the environment is much calmer.  He has stayed inside a handful of day, but even when he does, it seems like he needs his fix of the outdoors for a little bit in the evenings.  Mozart doesn't help.  In fact, I'm not so sure it's the outdoors so much as the need-to-get-away-from-that-insane-moving-beast-of-a-toddler that has him wanting to go out in the evenings.

He has been a bit of a love though.  We are doing our best to love him up as much as possible.  For the day or so after we found BatCat, he seemed out of sorts - maybe it was just us, but it did seem that he missed her in a way.  I just want him to be happy.  And not leave pee-puddles to attend to.

And then there was one.

There's no way to soften the blow.  TW came home from work on her lunch break and found BatCat. Dead.  She called me at work but I was busy.  She called back twice more within minutes and so I excused myself and got the news.

I am heartbroken, but I cannot imagine what TW is going through.  She got BatCat before she met me and when she was having a very hard time.  She has often referred to how much support she got from her.  And that they are kindred spirit or a kind of soul mates.  And after finding her she couldn't even grieve properly as she had to go back to work.

In tears, I got off work an hour early, dropped Mozart off at Mme. Child's, stopped at the store and got several bags of ice, then went home to ensure BatCat's stability until we can decide what to do (burial or cremation) and where it will happen.  I got flowers, wine and ice cream for TW, and then picked up the boy.

I explained to him that Mommy is sad and so she might be crying a little bit tonight.  He wanted to know where her boo-boo is and I told him it is in her heart.  He offered to "give her hug and I fix it."  He is a wonderful child.  Since we got home he has been checking in with her and giving hugs.

TW and I haven't had a chance to talk yet, so Mozart doesn't know the reason that Mommy has a boo-boo on her heart.  I'm thinking of telling him that BatCat had to move to a happy cat place, and we are sad because we didn't know she had to move away until she was gone.  Or, because we have already referred to people who have died as living in our hearts, that she lives in our hearts now.  And if he asks why Mommy's heart has a boo-boo, then we'll say that it sometimes hurts little when people (or cats) move from living with us to living in our hearts.

Well.  I'll keep thinking on this.  If you have an ideas for telling him or dealing with the loss of a pet, by all means, let me know.

Success!

I'm running this morning, but I just have to announce: BOTH CATS ARE USING THE HOUSE!!!

I seem to go in spurts with my posts, and while I have lots that I've thought about posting - so, so need to show off the Halloween costume that I did for Mozart, for instance - the last week has been a flurry of activity and it seems that it will continue for a day or so more.  So wait with anticipation for that Halloween post, but not with bated breath please, as I don't want to be responsible for anyone passing out.

Another small fan.

About a week ago, I noticed that the bedtime routine between Mommy and Mozart had lengthened.  I found myself wondering if she started reading Harry Potter to him. I had no real reason to suspect this, aside from her unwavering love for all things Harry Potter.  I mean, I knew it would happen sometime, but I thought it would be when he was closer to seven.  I listened to snippets of story telling from in the room, but nothing seemed to suggest anything out of the norm.

My suspicions have been confirmed over the last week, however, when Mozart began wanting to "fly 'round the house."  When he, out of the blue, yells, "Gryffindor!" at the top of his lungs and when the following conversation occurs:


Mozart: I just wanna play magic. I need a magic wand.
Mommy: You have to be 11 to have a magic wand.
Mozart: I am 11.
Mommy: Not yet. You need to turn 3, and then 4, and then 5, and then 6, and then 7, and then, well all the way up to 11.
Mozart: No. I wanna play magic. Turn me into 11.
Mommy (attempting with all her might to lock the window): Oh, Farqwod.
Mozarti: Oh, God.
Both moms laugh hysterically for several minutes.
Mozart: You did it Mommy? You gonna turn my hat in a toad? 
And so it goes...

Sister Crime Boss Speaks Again.

As I was writing about the bat, I was reminded of how fascinated Sister Crime Boss was about the first incident.  Today, when I updated her that we are again awaiting the results of rabies testing, she said that she hopes it turns out ok.  I misunderstood and thought she meant that she hopes the bat is ok.  I reminded her that the bat has certainly met its demise due to the testing.

Her response?  "Oh, good."  And then to clarify, "I'm a lover of all creatures great and small, but it a bat came around, that's it."

As a reminder, she prefers freezing them to death rather than anything less pleasant.

Bats, Cats, and Gym Rats

The other night The Wife was making a horrible racket - I was more than a little put off by being woken, but snapped awake when she said, "Something is in the house!"

I jump out of bed in a daze and follow her.  She grabs a shoe. I think, that doesn't make sense, but ok, we don't have any baseball bats, so she could throw a shoe...  My heart was apoundin' as I trail her, armed with that shoe, from room to room and downstairs.  Finding nothing, we head back to bed.  Me somewhat perplexed and her saying, "I am not hallucinating!"

'Course, I did think she was hallucinating or at least that her imagination was a bit overactive.  I went back to sleep and thought not of the incident again.

Until the next night, when, shortly after I'd gotten to sleep, I am once again not-so-gently roused, and this time she was saying in a voice somewhere between a whisper and a scream, "I saw it, there is a bat, get up, GET UP, you have to get the BAT!"

I jump out of bed and follow her.  Again.  Now I recall the shoe from the night before and it suddenly makes more sense - not an intruder, but a much smaller thing.  I follow her, but this time I find myself in the lead.

I look in the bathroom.

Nothing.

I ruffle the curtains.

Nothing.

I go in the spare bedroom.

Ack!  There is a bat hanging out on the wall!  I shut myself in the room with the thing and instruct TW to go immediately and get a Tupperware.  She does, gives it to me, and leaves me alone with the little creature.

It is a stand-off.  I swear that thing was eyeing me.

Nonetheless, I gathered my courage (I may have shrieked once or twice before gathering it) and miraculously got the Tupperware over it.

We debated  just letting the thing go, but remembered the warnings from DPH before and kept the poor thing to turn over to animal control for rabies testing.   Hopefully the results will come back with less suspense than last time.  The animal control guy did say that there hasn't been a case of bat rabies in two years, so that is somewhat reassuring.  I will update on this if testing comes back positive, but otherwise just assume we are in the clear again.

On to other things.  Namely CATS.  So, if you've been reading past posts, you know that BatCat and Stubby have been expelled from the house and are now porch kitties.  I can't recall if I mentioned that I made them a cat house.  I am extremely proud of said cat house:

Do you see how I built it directly into the porch.  It was big enough for both cats and was fully insulated so that it would be a proper shelter come winter.

Well, turns out - and I guess I knew it all along - these two cats can barely tolerate each other.  And BatCat, formerly known as Bitchy Queen, will have none of this sharing business that was suggested by having only one house.  She would sit inside and should Stubby, also known as Scaredy Cat, get anywhere near the door, a yowling fest would occur.

So I had to remake the cat house.  I should have done it this way in the beginning - with two door.  Would have been so much better for the remake, but I just wanted them to be the warmest, and two cats huddled would be much warmer than one cat huddled.  So I got to work.  I had some leftover board from the first project, so all I had to do was get more trim and something for the cat doors (missing piece from the last one).  The boards weren't long enough for the whole facade, so I had to saw and refashion it to make it long enough and accommodate doors.  Then once the facade was done I had to redo the insulation on the inside so that instead of one long house, it was two smaller houses.  I'd planned on spending two or so hours on the project.  I spent 8.5 hours on it.

But Voila!


Not bad, if I do say so myself.  You can see that BatCat is turning up her nose at it, but by morning she had gotten her act together and had made herself at home in the right kitty condo.

I don't know where Stubby is keeping warm, but at least now I can be assured that he has a proper shelter should he choose to use it.

And on a final note: I am back at the gym. Hallelujah! It has been two full months now and I've gone every morning, M-F, and only missed one day from being sick.  Mozart is finally sleeping in the morning long enough that I can sneak out before he stirs and then I get back just about the time he wakes up.  This was foiled only once, and I packed him up in the stroller and walked to the gym where he stayed while I did my weights and then we walked back.  That, of course, won't happen in the snow, but that was an especially accomplished morning.  And the other gym rats thoroughly enjoyed him.  They now ask about him regularly.

And best of all.  I feel great!

Less than five minutes:

"I am a MONSTERRRRR! No! I am a Wise Old Owl. Costume not on - I gonna wear it."
Get's distracted.
"This is my mail truck." 
He emits an extremely loud squeal/scream/rawr. 
"That's a big sound. That was a big sound right there. It was. Mama, Mama, Mama! Carry my Cycle Mot - No!" 
He picks up his ride-on and puts it on the couch. 
"I am putting up on couch. There, put it up my couch. My motorcycle big. I better fix it. Get that. Get my tool thing."
He looks at me and touches the bottom of the computer.
"That's hot. I wanna watch Nana, Grandad 'puter. I better fix my motorcycle."
Moves toy work bench next to ride-on.
"There. See. It's next to motorcycle. I can fix with you. I fixing house. Make a mess. Santa Clause is watching me fix. I fix the door off. Whoaoa! I love fixing. There."
Takes out stacking block and starts putting them on work work bench.
"Now things go here, here, here, and here."
And it goes on...

Toddler News.

Mozart's new words today are: "Hedgehog" as in, "That hedgehog gonna be cute."  And Amazing, as in "Yook! That truck is AMAZING!"

His new idea for the day: "We gotta go home, make cookies.  They for Santa."

The thing that made him screech when I forgot what we agreed on: When ordering pizza (we were running late tonight), I dared to order delivery instead of pick-up, "So we can go to pizza house, get pizza, yeah!!"

The most frequent denial of late: "It not dark out right now."  

The cat that caught the canary.

That would be BatCat.  Camouflaged within the leaves that had blown onto our porch, was a bright yellow bird.  Feet up and long gone.  BatCat was looking at me, expecting praise, I imagine, as she gets when she brings a mouse.  I couldn't look at her.

Poor Tweetie.

Life with a two-year-old.

We started the day delayed and showed up at the the coffee house for breakfast with all of us starvin'.  We made our order and got a piece of sweet potato pie for immediate consumption.  Mozart wanted a brownie, but we'd tried to pick the most nutritious item in the case.  As it is given to us, he screeches, "NO! I want brownie!"  Mommy explains, "No brownies for breakfast.  You don't have to eat it, we will."  To which he screeches louder, "NOOO! My potato pie!"  He consumed the whole thing.

While breakfast was generally enjoyable, the lack of prompt food (and caffeine) generally put all of us in kind of a sour state.  We'd hoped to go to Mike's Maze, but between the non-listening skills and increased occurrence of the whine that happened during our morning errands, we opted to go home to nap instead.  On waking, we were all feeling much better and set out for the Pumpkin Fest.  Mozart got to ride a real school bus for the first time for the shuttle.  Both TW and I were amazed at how small the seats and aisles were, and were taken back to memories of childhood.  We had good times.  Mozart was recognized by more people than we were.  Popular kid.  We had pumpkin fries and pumpkin pizza.  We ran into Prancer, who we'd lost track of for a month or so.  It was good.  Then we caught the shuttle back.

Mozart, ever so excited to be getting on a bona fide school bus AGAIN, announces: "We are back!"
And then he put his hand directly on a young lady's breast and gave it a full groping.
I apologized profusely and whisked him along as fast as I could.

Now at the back of the bus, we were chatting with the folks in the next seat up.  Mozart took my finger and stuck it into his nose.  The lady I talking to guffaws, as I note that I've told him not to pick his nose, and then tell him that nobody should pick his nose, ever, unless in the bathroom.

Dinosaur bites and other ailments.

The other day when I picked up Mozart, he pointed out an owie on his arm.  It looked worrisome.  I don't know that it would have looked worrisome had his little friend, Goose, not come down with a staff infection earlier in the week.  But Mme. Child sent me a photo and the owie looked suspiciously similar - angry red with a whitehead in the middle.  I called the after hours line for the doctor and described it.  Got the advice to put antibiotic cream on it and to make an appointment the next day.

Meanwhile what Mozart had been describing as his "bug bite" got promoted to his "dinosaur bit".

I just love this kid.  He hears that we seem to be more concerned about something than his usual owie - generally bug bites, and so obviously, what he has must be something much more serious!

But then, fast forward to going to seen doctor the next day.  He was very impressed with his band-aid (Elmo characters) all morning long, but when the doctor asked him why he came in he says, with a very serious tone, "I just got this cough from Kiki's."

Really?  I mean, I did notice that he had been a little congested, but from the moment he said "dinosaur bite" all he talked about was going to the doctor to have it checked!

So I pointed out the owie, which did look better by then, and the doctor said that maybe it was and maybe it wasn't staff, but it was too early to tell.  In the end, Mozart stayed home from Kiki's, the owie resolved itself with the OTC antibiotic cream and no script needed, and true to his prediction Mozart developed a little cough that turned into a bit of a bigger cough over the weekend.

He seems to be feeling better.  I now seem to have acquired his little cough.  So with that, I will turn in early and try mightily to kick this little cough to the curb.

The power of sleep.

Mozart wore me out.  I am only now recovering after more than 24 hours.

He did not nap while at daycare on Tuesday.  The plan HAD been to swoop in, pick him up, have dinner and head to the Y.  There is free childcare on Tuesday nights, he loves it, and it give me some extra time at the gym for myself.

They say something about the best made plans...  I don't think they had what followed in mind.  I feel like what they had in mind would have been much more positive.

The daycare provider calls Mozart (and other kids) "ugly" when describing the behavior and nastiness that only toddlers can exhibit.  Well, lemme tell ya, he was UGLY on Tuesday.  It started when he wanted to stop by my office, which we do sometimes, but this was not in the schedule.  The screaming commenced.  And did not stop.  It continued all the way home, into the house, through a time out, and even past the time TW got home.  As I say, first it was the office NOW, then it was going to the Y NOW, certainly NOT going home for dinner, then it was having a snack NOW, with TV - and NOW!  The kid was just coming apart at the seams.  I decided, since the time out didn't work, we would try a time in.  This sometimes works when a kid feels so out of sorts.

It didn't.

Thank-fully, TW did come home early and put together his dinner.  By that time it was clear that he just needed to go to bed.  Somehow we got him to be calm enough to sit at the table.  And even got a laugh out of him every once in awhile - but the tantrum was constantly threatening.

I was frazzled, he was fragile, and we all needed a break.  TW brought out some elderberry syrup for him.  He was thrilled.  He loves the stuff, and says, "I do need my medicine!"  And so I asked him what kind of medicine he needs, thinking he's say something that referred to the syrup.  Instead I got a blank stare, and so, well... I told him he needed a tranquilizer.*  He repeated that very funny sounding word several times with some approximation to the proper pronunciation.  I tell you, it's funny to hear a kid say, "I need my tranquilizer now."  

After dinner he was brought up to bed and I got to get away to the gym for a bit.  He slept very soundly and was in a much better space yesterday!

* Just a note that while we joke that he needs a tranquilizer (sometimes a bear tranquilizer), we have never and will never give him such a thing!

Procurement, prepping and putting up - or tossing out *sigh*

What?! Are you kidding?  The weekend is over??  But I didn't even digest the week yet!

Seriously, this working full time business is tiring.  And much more tiring when one is attempting to manage a two year old and four CSA's.  The food procurement, prepping and putting up is about doing me in.  It was before my hours got bumped up, but now...  I'm just trying not to let things rot or otherwise go to waste.  At least it's going to the compost and not into a landfill, but still, not ideal.  We have to rethink some of this business.

The fish went to waste last week.  There was just too much.  They made a mistake and had packaged the portions too small, so they gave us two packages of ... whatever it was last week, I think it was haddock.  Very good, but just too much - even with having company over.

Today I put another 7 or so lbs of apples into the dehydrator - only lost three or so pounds to rot.  Have another 10 lbs that we got on Wednesday.   If I'm still standing at the end of the day tomorrow, I may make more sauce.

But the veggies.  Oh, Lord, they are going to waste.  Two eggplants, a squash, three tomatoes (the last of the season - oh, come on!), two heads of lettuce... the list goes on, I'm sure, with things haven't yet unearthed.

The meat, thank goodness, all comes frozen.  And it does seem to be just about the right amount for what we use.

The bright side for the week/end? I've gotten into the swing of things with my kefir production.  So much so that I have frozen some grains and am drying some. Yesterday I learned how to make sauerkraut - if I can just get to that cabbage before it turns.  I made mayonnaise today.  And ranch dressing with that mayonnaise and kefir (in lieu of buttermilk).

I do not have the work I was supposed to get done for work done this weekend, but I feel a bit justified as I worked two and a half hours over on Friday and the task for this particular project was very late in the getting.  So here I go.  Off to another week.  I've a feeling 5am will be coming all too soon...

Hard Core

Or something like that.  They don't actually have cores anymore!

See, that's what TW said when I presented her with a dinner plate.  Nothing special: chicken salad sandwich,  bread and butter pickles, and a couple dried apple rings.  As I left (she was in the bedroom with dim light due to a migraine), I pointed out that I'd made the chicken salad, the pickles were made by a friend, and not only did I dehydrate the apples, but that they are the very apples that we picked last weekend.


On Sunday evening I peeled, cut and froze enough for two pies.  By the end of it my hands were cramping and I still had about 20 lbs left...

Enter two very handy tools.  I took to Amazon and ordered a dehydrator and ran off to Wilson's (our local department store - the oldest continually running one in the country) to get the apple peeler/corer/slicer.

I'm in the middle of my second batch of tasty treats now.  Mozart loves them.

But I'll definitely need to package up the rest of that 20 lbs, because it keeps on growing.  Seriously, picking up a bag or two of fruit every week...

Now that's hard core.

The Golden Trumpet

We're talking mushrooms here folks.  My uncle, who doesn't use the Internet, and so will likely never see this post, has just made my WEEK!  This is what I received in the mail today:


 That is a nearly 5 pound box of chanterelle mushrooms.  A mother-load!  Freshly picked on Friday at the base of Mt. Hood in Oregon, and priority mailed to me for arrival today.  This stuff is like gold.  I covet these.  I buy them every year or so, but at $25-40/lbs, they are not a luxury I can often afford.

I immediately sorted them and made myself a side dish to go with the leftover kale salad of yesterday and Cajun ocean perch that was baking.

I first used any of the mushrooms that seems to be on the verge of going - a bit too moist for my liking, and cut any yuck off.  Thyme, garlic, and lemon at the ready, with my new cast-iron pan heating up.

Just in the pan, one must not mess with them too much.

They have shrunk down a bit with their lovely crispy edges.

As usual, the looks of the finished product is lacking due to poor lighting in our kitchen and a less than adequate camera.  But OooooOooooh, this was GOOOOOD!

Eat more kale, they say. A follow-up.

We are on the upswing with kale at our CSA again.  Awhile back, I wrote about a new-to-me way to prepare kale.  In salads, but massaged, or tenderized.  I tried this several times, and the best recipe I've found so far is as follows, with a few tweaks of my own.  I printed this out some time ago, and panicked this afternoon when I couldn't find it.  I did, finally, so I figure I'll share it and then also have it at my fingertips anytime I want instead of having to search for a piece of paper (I suppose, I could put it on a recipe card and file it, but this is more fun).

So this recipe is attributed to Kathy Gusnst.  I did not print out anything saying anything more about her, so I can't tell you who she is, really.  Only that she makes an excellent kale salad.

Kathy's Kale Salad

Ingredients:
3 Cups raw Kale, cored and cut into thin slices or ribbons
Sea Salt and pepper, to taste
About 1/4 cup olive oil
2-3 Tablespoons of vinegar (I used apple cider)
1/3 cup of raisins
1/3 cup of pine nuts or walnuts (I doubled this)

Toss all ingredients but nuts and let sit for a minimum of 30 minutes before serving.  Kathy notes that the salt and vinegar will tenderize the kale and soften in.  I do massage it a bit for good measure as well.  She mixed the nuts right in for the sitting period, but I roast them and then serve on top of the salad after it has tenderized.

Yum.

Coffee time.

It was my fault this time.  Sort of.  

Mozart slept better last night.  And, therefore, so did I.  At the beautiful hour of 7am (as opposed to the ungodly hour of 5am), He woke up and requested breakfast downstairs.  I obliged and then made myself coffee.  While Mozart got on with his morning, I drank my coffee on the couch while catching up with Facebook.  I was down to my last dregs, which I usually leave, and so had put my cup on the side table.  Mozart was playing nearby.  

And then it happened.  Again.

This time I got a coffee shower.  It was unintentional on his part, and it wasn't near the quantity of beer I was showered with yesterday.  I screeched anyway, but I've got no one to blame but myself.  And thankfully, coffee is a much more tolerable smell than beer.

Lessons learned this week:  

1. Always check side table (and couch) for any remnants from anyone's evening beverages or snacks upon coming down in the morning.
2. Always put your own cup away immediately after you've decided you are down.
3. Always be aware of the child's doings for you may be showered with unpleasantness if you are not.
4. Do these things even if you are tired.  

Oh, Come On!!

I mentioned a couple posts ago that I was so very, very tired.  Since that time, I've yet to get a truly restful night's sleep.  Mozart has been sick in a variety of ways ~ tummy trouble, fever, congestion, and now what may very well be hand, foot and mouth disease as evidenced by the sores in his mouth and the screaming that follows attempting to swallow anything but milk or yogurt.  So last night, instead of staying up and watching a show with TW, I went to bed and fell asleep before I even got done with one page in my book.

You can imagine that I was less than thrilled that he woke up at 5am.  And that he wanted to be up for the day at that point.  My overly tired brain could not take the screaming that ensued when I suggested he try, just try, to go back to sleep.  He wasn't having it.  Wanted to come downstairs and have breakfast.  I relented by half.  I made him ask me in a less screamy voice, but we did go downstairs.  Not to have breakfast, which I explained would absolutely not happen until it is light out, but to snuggle.

I did not turn on any lights. He said he was scared of the dark, but I said he had the choice of snuggling/resting with me down in the dark or he could go back up to his room.  He chose to stay with me.   We felt our way over to the couch and sat down.  As I felt around for the blanket I knew was there, I put my hand on a slimy, sticky thing.  I yelped a bit, which caused Mozart to snuggle closer as I realized the thing my hand was on was the lid for a Ben and Jerry's ice cream.  Somewhat irritated, I muttered to myself about cleaning up after oneself, moved the offending object to the coffee table, and proceeded to snuggle in with Mozart.  He did very well for some time, probably close to an hour, and he rested laying on top of me.  Every once in awhile he'd get restless, I'd ask him if he wanted to go back upstairs, and he'd settle down again.

And then it happened.

I heard a small, "What this, Mama?"  And was immediately showered with a deluge of cold liquid.  I screamed outright in shock.  My neck, hair and sweatshirt, as well as the couch behind, were saturated.  With beer!?!  Seriously?!?  Now I am, well, howling in dismay.  Mozart is joining in the howling because he doesn't know what is going on and if the dark is scary, I'm sure having your mother freak out in the dark for heaven knows what reason, is even scarier.

We howl our way upstairs, and I unceremoniously deposit Mozart in our bedroom, with a sleeping TW, and announced that I need to take a shower because my dear wife has left what must have been full beer to be poured on top of me and I now smell like a brewery.

I am showered now, and much more collected.  TW calmed Mozart down and I even got an apology from the little guy. TW has gone back to bed and so the leaving-out-of-drinks will need to be addressed later.  As my previous plans of getting to the gym early and then showering have been rearranged, we'll now be off to the Dairy Farm for milk, the Veggie Farm for veggies and flowers, and then the Farmer's Market for anything that didn't come in our CSA this week.  I'll hit the gym later.

Toddler Times

I've been trying to make a concerted effort of to not load Mozart up with carbs for his snacks.  This is hard as he prefers carb: Biscuits, cookies, crackers, popcorn, bread, dry cereal, the list goes on...  Tonight we stopped at the store on the way home for a couple of things.  The garbage disposal broke, so TW asked me to pick something up for dinner.  Mozart overheard this and suggested pizza.  I was game.  Still had to go to the store, but pizza it is (we are waiting).  When we got home, though, Mozart said he needed a snack.  I cut up pears.  This was not his idea of a snack, and he let me know by wailing, "NO, I need bunny crack!!!"

We, of course, do not give our child crack of any kind.  Not even the bunny kind.**  And let's be clear if we were going to drug him, it would be of the tranquilizing nature. Not that we would ever think of that.  Not even now, as he continues to wail about having his crack.  Not even as he methodically takes his bowl of pears to the sink and dumped them in.  And not even as he throws himself on the floor, lamenting toddler-style, about how unfair life is and then bangs his head on the coffee table, making the screams all the more pleasant.

Sigh.



**The bunny crack he is referring too is Annie's Cheddar Bunnies 

Bone Tired.

My Folks are here, and for this I am grateful, but I have to say that I am beyond tired.  I didn't sleep well - for no good reason - several days before they arrived, and then one thing or another has prevented sleep since there arrival.  We have had a very good time.  Mozart is beside himself with glee at their presence.  But he is also overly tired (he and his being sick are part of the reason I am not slept) and has been somewhat of a challenge to my patience.  It makes feel feel less than a great mom. And less than a great daughter, as my lack of patience, I fear, may be coming out in simple interactions as well.

I hope to be going to bed very soon - in say, less than twelve minutes, and be much more rested and able to reflect on  our visit and perhaps share some photos.  But right  now I will sleep, God willing, and think of nothing else 'til morning.

Kisses, Knives, and Pixie Dust

Isn't it amazing how a kiss can cure all?  Well, when you're two anyway.  Mozart was messing around this morning ~ running, falling on purpose, and doing it all over again.  He thought it hysterical.  Until he accidentally on purpose fell on his face.  It was tragic.  Real pain, as evidenced by a real cry, not the fake one that he pulls out for attention.  I gave it a minute (I find that if I give it just a little time before I kiss it better, the physical pain has dissipated enough to allow the psychological healing to take over) and asked him does he need a kiss.  A teary, "I do," and he ran over to be mended.  Three kisses on his chin and bottom lip and he says, "Thank-you Mama," and is off playing again.

I recently read an article where a woman listed off a bunch of moms admissions of failures, or rather, near-misses with their children.  Most of them had to do with car seat mishaps - either they forgot to buckle the kid in, or it wasn't clicked into the base, etc.  And all I could think of was The Knife Incident.

So Mozart didn't crawl properly, really, until after he started walking.  At first I think it was difficult for him then perhaps he was just lazy about getting his belly off the ground, but by the time he had actually learned to crawl with his bum up, he'd figured out that he could get from point A to point B with a toy or two if he had his hands free - and so he Commando Crawled.  Having been through Basic Training and the inevitable Obstacle Course, I can truly say that it takes, much, MUCH more effort to do this than to hike yourself up to your knees and be on your way.  Nonetheless.  That is what he did.

So picture this now. At about 10 months old, we are relaxing after we all got home.  TW and I were both on the couch, and Mozart playing on the floor next to us in the kid-safe space.  We were each in our own little world for a bit before the next flurry of dinner-making and evening routine started.  I don't know what I was doing in my own little world, but when I noticed he moved from my sight I checked to see all was well.  He was playing with a collection of cloth grocery bags and nothing else was around, so all was good.  Then, two minutes later, I see the child making his way across the floor, Commando Style with a STEAK KNIFE in hand!!!  

He was fine, amazingly, as he was holding the knife by the blade.  Apparently TW's lunch bag was with the grocery bags - Heaven only knows why - with the flatware she brings back and forth to work, and he was such a clever little devil that he un-Velcro'd it to access the goods.

I think I will forever have that image of him seared into my mind.

There have been a couple incidences like this.  I'm sure there are with most kids.  And when they are over we look back and thank whatever magic was responsible for keeping them safe!  Did I mention a couple weeks ago that Mozart started asking for pixie dust?  Sometimes he would ask, but sometimes he would demand.  We had no idea what he was talking about.  Seriously. No clue.  Then he started referring to watching pixie dust, so I figured it was a cartoon or something that he'd been exposed to at daycare.   We could not figure it out.  Until yesterday. Pixie Dust is apparently Teletubbies.  I did the happy dance because he was no longer distraught (he did have to pull out his Big Boy Voice in order to actually watch the video).  I still don't know what magic protects him from parenting mistakes and bodily injury, but for now the mystery of the pixie dust is solved.

More photos...

I'd intended on getting this next batch out later on the same day as the last batch~ oh, good intentions!  The weekend was chalk-full of projects and business, and it seems that these days, Saturday mornings are the only days I feel it ok to sit and veg out (when I have enough brain left to type anything comprehensible).  So on top of the usual running around to get the most out of our CSA's, last weekend I re-caulked the bathtub, organized the kitchen cabinets. The caulking job turned out serviceable.  Though certainly not professionally done, it looks so, sooo much better than it did.  And I am still exceedingly pleased with the outcome of the kitchen - we still have a couple cupboards to do, but in general, I don't think it's ever been so neat and serviceable!

Because the weekend was stretched another day long, my work week was stretched a day short, but of course the same amount of work needed to be done ~ and in fact this week was was busier than most due to some unexpected happenings.  Usually I have moments in my day when I can make a phone call or do something for myself, but this week I barely had time for lunch!  Eeeep!  Then after work, somehow, was even busier than the usual even though we didn't pick up the CSA's (break from some, Mme. Child picked up others for us) as we filled the evenings up with haircuts, dinner with friends, marching in parades and going to the county fair ~ Whew!  At the bottom, I've got a couple photos from the fair, but now onto the photos I promised...

Mozart is STILL, a full month later, remembering his good time at vacation.
He often brings up going to the beach and staying at the vacation cabin.

When I saw this sign I thought it comical.
But it was no joke.

They stalked our camps at the beach, and if anyone dare be absent for more than a couple minutes. 

Mozart's castle's weren't quite as elaborate as this, but someone has a great imagination.

And who says that the beach is only for kids?
This man. In his full on adulthood. Sat in this spot, enjoying the waves and playing in the sand, for at least an hour. When I walked by, he looked up at me, with absolute joy and beamed, "This is great! Just like being a kid again!" You go sir! 

It's always a little sad to leave the beach, even if you've been there since early morning.

Coloring at Spanky's Clam Shack

Mozart got to ride a Pirate Ship with Mommy.  He had a blast and "Argh'ed" his way through the next couple days!

Still glowing after the Pirate Ship ride.

Mr. Independent will push his own stroller, thankyouverymuch.

That was a good vacation!

And now, barreling into Fall, I can hardly believe it is fair time already!  We marched in the kick-off parade with my work, and Mozart had a blast.  I did as well, though I was utterly exhausted by the time we arrived.  But not so much so that we skipped the sights.  And the pig racing.  I did not know they did pig racing, but it was pretty funny.

He didn't actually want to ride on any of them, but he loved the lights.

Crazy oddities, "With the head of a human, but no arm and no legs, she crawls on her belly!  She's alive, she's alive, she's alive!"

And more oddities. I missed the creepy call for this one - was distracted by fire-eating man...

Racing pigs. Starring such celebrities as Rush Limphog and Hillary Rodham Clinton.  Too bad my phone couldn't capture their amazing-ness - those blurs are the stars.

*I give up on formatting the spacing between photos ~ it is maddening.  Truly.

Promised photos...

Have I mentioned it's been a little hectic since returning from vacation?  No, perhaps not.  Too busy.

One Mozart quip before I share some of the photos that I promised:

After a long stretch of whining and being asked to, please, just speak like a big boy, he responds, "No, I am always YOUR baby!"

This kid doesn't miss a beat.  I have told him several times, often while snuggling, that he is growing up to be a big boy, but that he will always be my baby - even when he is an old man.  I did not see that backfiring when I said it.

And now onto the photos...

Where we were.

That's in the United States.

Ok, but seriously - we went to Hyannis, Massachusetts.  It was beautiful, and I love to take photos.  I don't have a proper camera, but I do have fun and like to find good shots.  The resolution on these are fairly poor - due to the lack of camera - but I hope you enjoy them nonetheless.

These buoys, standing tall - about 20ft or so - were at a park close to the Port.  

Same buoys, from a different angle, and with blades of grass in the foreground.

Buoys from a distance, with pebbled walkway.

I'm not much of a fisherwoman myself, but the photo called.

Statue of Sachem Iyannough, one of the Native Americans that assisted the Pilgrims on landing.  I am quite fond of contrast that the flag brings, but I've been told that it is distracting.  Your thoughts?

Knot at the Port.

Another perspective shot - grass and a tree.

The Port through ironwork.

Boat on water.

Was hoping to capture the balance between the water and the flower - not sure I got it.

Beached Buoys.

Taken at Cape Cod Museum of Natural History - On you left, that is a Clear Nosed Skate - new favorite fish of all time.

Exoskeletons of the horseshoe crab. Apparently the blood and shells of this creature have now been found to be quite valuable for testing the purity of medicines and for making sterile bandages.

Mini lighthouse - taken from a Duck Boat.

Beach Rose Hips - I tried and tried to get a photo with the actual beach, but none came out.  So you have beach grass and a couple well-to-do houses.  Still a bit fuzzy, but better than nothing.

So that's that.  I'll try to post some that are a bit more people-oriented next.  No faces of us, but happyiess abound.

Ah, Toddlerhood.

Tonight at the dinner table:

We were bribing Mozart to eat his quiche and veggies with pieces of crust from our own quiche.  All was going quite splendidly and then he says, "I gonna eat that toopid crust."
TW, somewhat shocked: "What did you say?"
Mozart, with a smirk: "That toopid crust."
Me, very seriously, even though the way he says toopid is just too cute: "We do NOT say that word."
Mozart "Toopid! Toopid!"
TW: "That's ONE."
Mozart: "Is toopid."
TW: "That's TWO."
Mozart, giving it up for a bit, goes one to talk about other things for a some time. And then: "Lilly said word toopid."
TW: "Well Lilly shouldn't say it either. That is not a nice word."
Mozart: "Poopy crust?"
TW: "That's ONE.  Again."
And finally he drops the potty mouth for the evening.

Later, completely unsolicited, he said, "Tank-you cooking, Mama."  And this was said with a sweet smile and absolutely sincerely.

And finally, I'm washing him up and saying goodnight so we can do the pass-off for the bedtime routine and he burst out into song, "Love you so much, Mama.  Love you sooo much Mama.  Mama love.  Love you sooo much Mama..."

Melting.

Back to reality...

Ah, vacation.  It is good.  Alas.  It is over.

Not sure I mentioned that we were going - it kinda snuck up on me, and then it was a whirlwind getting ready and we were off on our way.  We went to the Cape and it was awesome, awesome!  I might do another post with photos.  Ok, I will do another post with photos - I finally got that new SD card for my phone and I took many, many photos.  So, so wish I had a real camera, but I just know I'll be getting one for my birthday *hint*  *Hint*  *HINT*

We got back last Saturday evening and were immediately tossed back into reality.  Prancer's birthday (um, who gave that kid permission to turn 8?) was Sunday and we generally hold a party for him, so not wanting to fail on that count, we put our birthday hats on and pulled a party together.  I spoke with him the night before to see about what kind of cake he might like (should have done this weeks before, but everything seems to be very sneaky these days).  He said Neapolitan - to match his requested Neapolitan ice cream.  Ok - THAT, I can pull together in a heartbeat.  I did use a box mix and store-bought frosting, but I used some of my freezer jam and thickened it up for the filling.  I went to the store in the morning got the above-mentioned, hot dogs, hamburgers, veggie burgers, potato chips, candles, plates, napkins and balloons.  Came home and put the cake in, thickened the sauce, sliced tomatoes, onions, washed lettuce, made chip dip, and cut watermelon, and set up the backyard with balloons, streamers, presents and food ~ Thank GOODNESS for good weather!   TW ran to get a tablecloth that I'd forgotten and a couple extra chairs, made some punch, then set up the music. I stuck the cake in the freezer as TW went off getting Prancer and his dad, and Cake Master and Lashes showed up with more presents.

Prancer was ecstatic!  He climbed up on this little play structure we have and announced, several times, that this was the BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!!  Now, he says this every year, but it still feels good.   While I was disappointed that I didn't have the cake ready for his arrival, he was thrilled because that meant he was able to help put it together, "And sample everything along the way."

After we'd eaten, Prancer helped me place the candles and questioned whether they would stay lit. I said, that of course they would.  Hehe.  Of course they didn't, but he had a great time making a big show of pretending to blow the candles out, which was probably more fun.  And then FINALLY he got to eat the cake and ice cream properly, which, of course, meant that he could get to the business of his presents!  Ah, the bliss of an 8 year old.

Neapolitan Cake - vanilla cake, strawberry filling, and chocolate frosting.

Later that afternoon, I went over to my first Lia Sophia party - I won't go into the details, but let's just say that it was a bit more excitement than I thought I was getting into!  I did end up winning a lovely necklace, and ordered another for TW *SHHHHHH!* and then it was home to bed, and up for work.

But the excitement wasn't over because right after work we got to see Peanut!!  Her family comes out to visit the area quite often to see relatives and, thankfully, us and the foster parents of her brother as well.  We had such a wonderful time seeing her.  She is 9 now.  And if I can hardly believe that Prancer is 8, it is even harder to grasp that she is 9 and becoming quite a lovely young lady.  Once again she said that wants to come and live with us - that's always hard.  But now what I think she'd like is for all of the people to just live in one giant house.  Her parents really are doing an excellent job raising her up.

So after our visit with Peanut, then life really did get back to the normal work, food procurement, and food processing.  Tuesday we got milk from the farm.  Wednesday we got our fruit CSA.  Thursday we our veggie CSA.  Today, I made cantaloupe popsicles, apple sauce, and roasted beets.  I found a recipe for Moussaka that I think I'll try - sounds soooo good, and aside from the olive oil and spices can be entirely locally sourced!  Reality is pretty good sometimes, too.