So the first day we were here, Zoey peed ALL THE TIME. Talk to her nicely? Pee. Speak to her sternly? Pee. Ignore her? PEE! And along with the incessant piddling, we had her leaping atop Licorice at every possible opportunity, and Licorice spending a lot of time making adorable little cranky-snarly sounds to try to tell Zoey to back off. The second day, I guess my dad found a little cork and Zoey stopped peeing everywhere. She only spent half the day pouncing all over Licorice, and much time was spent with both dogs lazing in front of the stove, roasting their tender underbellies. Eventually...
Sometimes I sit down to write something and I feel like such a colossal douche I consider just skipping the blog entry and ridiculing myself internally, instead. But then I realize that's no fun at all, and I share it all with you. YOU ARE WELCOME. Here at Casa Mir I am fraught with THE BUSY, because time is running out, school vacation and The Big Trek North are almost upon us, and there are a million things I have not done, cannot do, must accomplish, blah blah blahbbity blahhhhhh and all of it is unimportant, I mean mostly, and yet it's eating up my head space. I'm forever exhorting my...
I had noble intentions of putting together a deeply meaningful---but also hilarious, natch---post for your enjoyment, yesterday, but my day was derailed by a multitude of more pressing matters. True, probably the least of my worries was the subcontractor who is out on the deck painting (did I mention that we replaced our siding while redoing the deck? because we did, because why not spend every last penny all at once!) and BLARING country music all freakin' day long. Part of me feels like: Hey, this is my house, and not only that, this is my OFFICE, and I am trying to work, and therefore I...
What I really, really want to do right now is go on a long and indignant rant about a particular teacher at the middle school. BUT I AM A GROWN UP. So I merely complained about it on Facebook, instead, and here I am going to talk about oatmeal. As adults do. See how MATURE and RESTRAINED I am? Don't be envious, it took me YEARS to become this refined. Instead I am going to tell you about how this week Hippie School had a Medieval Festival, and we parents were treated to various delights including a swordplay tournament, dance demonstrations, and various other medieval things. And of course,...
I got you some rivets! All kinds! Because... you know... rivets... riveting...? Oh, nevermind. The soup was delicious. And I made naan! Recipes after the jump, if you care. If you don't care, enjoy your rivets. I Googled them just for you. Crock Pot Moong Dal Soup That I Half Stole, Half Invented Rinse 3 cups moong dal (the little yellow lentils) and soak then in hot water for half an hour. Rinse again, then put them in the crock pot with a bay leaf, 32 oz. (one box) vegetable stock, and a cup of water. Cook on high for an hour, skimming off any foam. Add: one 14 oz. can fire-roasted...
So, um, I never quite know what to say after a post where I've worry-vomited all over the keyboard and the majority of you are so sweet and kind about it, holding back my hair and assuring me that it's okay. I want to follow it up with OH HEY FALSE ALARM, IT'S ALL GOOD! but that isn't really how it goes. On Saturday morning, Otto left at the crack of dawn for a work thing, I packed the children off with their dad for the weekend, and then I spent the entire day being responsible to no one and not talking about anything. Not solving any problems! Not discussing my feelings! Just being silent....
Yesterday we had some friends come over for brunch, and that was exciting because I generally just hide in my cave, all alone, coming out briefly for food and laundry and to comment that the light, it buuuuuurns. In preparation for this event, we dusted and vacuumed (because we do those things once a year, whether the house needs it or not!), and made some brunchy foods, and tried to prepare the children. You see, Chris and Karen have three children---a 4-year-old son and 3-year-old twin daughters. To Chickadee, we said: We expect you to help with the little kids. To Monkey, we said: If...
I had high hopes for today being a super-productive day, on account of I scheduled a grooming appointment for Licorice this morning, which meant I had to be up and showered and dressed much earlier than usual. I know the joke about freelancers working from home in their pajamas is tired and overdone, but if I don't have somewhere to be, chances are excellent that I won't shower until lunchtime. And even then, I'm likely to lose an hour or more to "I should totally go shower. But I'm hungry. Maybe I'll just fix myself a salad and catch up on email while I eat. Okay, I'm done eating, but oh my...
I could probably do the math on how many trips to the grocery store I've taken in my life, but math isn't my thing and I don't really feel like depressing myself right now, anyway. Groceries are one of my chores. If I need Otto to go, instead, I have to make a list, and I don't do lists, so most of the time I just take care of it myself. Of course, my version of "taking care of it" means that half the time I forget at least three items, and a good portion of the time I have done zero meal planning and have no idea what we need to get through the week. Except milk. I always buy a couple of...
