My biz.
Hey everybody, check it out!!!! My macrophotography biz is finally up and running! Check out my sweeeeet cards (and prints). It has taken me a year to put this together. I hope you like it!! (Oh yeah--and buy some cards!! You'll love 'em, I promise....)
Evidence.
Blueberry smoothie? What blueberry smoothie?
Moon-chasing.
So my little one has been learning about the moon lately. I point it out to him in books, and he recognizes it on Sesame Street and other such places. "Moooo!" he says, pointing a little finger when he sees it, and looking quite proud of himself.
The other day it was nice out, so we went across the street to the park (his favorite thing). It was about 3 o'clock, and I looked up and the moon was out! So I pointed it out to him. WELL.
That was just about the MOST EXCITING THING HE'S EVER SEEN. "MOOO! MOOOOO!!" he squealed. He began shrieking and dancing around like it was Christmas morning.
And then--he took off running. He held his little hands out in front of him and away he went across the park, yelling, "Mooo! Moooo!!" He was going to get that moon! He figured all he had to do was chase it down to get ahold of it. It was so stinking cute, I hardly even knew what to do. I let him run after it for a while to see what would happen.
In the end, he ran the length of a football field, maybe more (which for him is a lot, as he is, after all, only a year and a half old) before I stopped him and tried to explain that the moon was "pretty far away" and he wasn't "likely to get it by running toward it."
He accepted defeat and was content to beam at it for a while, and point and laugh.
Man oh man, part of me wishes this age would last forever...when everything is new and full of possibilities and you think you can chase the moon and hold it in your tiny little hands for a while.
Sniff.
The Toddler Years: 1st Installment.
Oh sure, he LOOKS all cute and innocent. But don't be fooled--this child is a veritable cyclone of trouble. I would like to relate my experience making breakfast this morning.
Background info: I buy the JUMBO box of Cheerios at Costco. They are served up to him with every meal, an "aperitif" if you will.
Also. If this little boy is quiet, he is either asleep, or INTO SOMETHING. Period.
Ahem.
After serving up his traditional bowl of Cheerios, banana, and oatmeal, it was time for me to make my own breakfast. I left him to his own devices in the living room (as per usual) while I disappeared into the kitchen for FIVE MINUTES.
After about three minutes, I started to notice that the living room was completely silent. No jibber-jabbering or toys clanking around. I grew suspicious.
As I rounded the corner, the first thing I saw was a sea of Cheerios spilling out in a wide arc around the couch. "Oh no," I heard myself moan.
As I rounded the couch, I discovered a Cheerio waterfall cascading onto the floor. He was standing at the mouth of the bag, helping to scoop the cereal out in a continuous "stream". He was simultaneously stomping on the cereal, pulverizing it into dust with his little house-boots. "Oh no!" I heard myself shout, as if it was coming from another person entirely.
The first thing I did was to pluck him out of the mess and chuck him into the playpen where he couldn't get into any more trouble. Then I attempted to stop the flow of Cheerios from the JUMBO-sized bag, and ran for the vacuum. Meanwhile the dog is going nuts, eating cereal as fast as he can. I considered just letting him just eat it all, but there was waaay too much and I figured it would make him sick (just what I need).
The vacuum quickly became full and wouldn't suck anymore. So I had to stop and empty it before I could keep going. The dog was fighting me for the cereal. But finally I got it all. That's when I heard it---rip, rip, rip. I turned around.
Standing in the playpen, he was busy ripping all the diaper wipes out of the box one by one, and chirping with glee. I had not heard him because of the vacuum cleaner running. "Oh no!" I exclaimed.
He began to laugh. I descended upon him and retrieved the now-3/4-empty box of wipes and began to scoop all the loose ones out of the playpen. As I was doing that, he whipped the tube of Vaseline out of nowhere, showed me that the cap was off, laughed, and proceeded to shove it into his mouth. Arrrgh!!!
Fast forward ten minutes, when I finally had the situation under control. At long last I sat down to enjoy my breakfast, and he was looking at me from across the room, trying to conceal something he had in his mouth. Upon investigation, I discovered the little plastic clip from my bag of raisin bread, which I must have dropped when I saw what he was doing with the Cheerios.
There is nothing like the grin a toddler gives you when they are in the middle of stirring up trouble. You can't even be mad about any of it, because they think it's SO FUNNY. Consequently, it's awfully quiet in the other room. Gotta run.....
Me and my buddy.
In Texas! Enjoying all the barbecue we can eat, and having a ball.
14 months, here we come!
I shot these myself, I swear.
Vocabulary now includes "Duck," "Bubble," "Moo," "Gus," "Dada," and "Ball." (Note "Mama" is still conspicuously absent.) (Thanks, Stan, for helping a girl out on that one.)
Persimmons: Fruits of the Devil
Today I would like to talk about my new nemesis, persimmons.
I had never had a persimmon. I know (knew) nothing about persimmons. However, I receive a box of organic produce every week, whatever is in season, and this week it happened to include persimmons. (I only knew what they were because they came with a label.)
Now, bear in mind that I enjoy many foods most people would consider off-the-beaten-path. I eat fennel and kale and barley and leeks and stuff like that. So, I would like to think that I have a nice, wide palate for such things.
Well, I read online that you have to peel the persimmons first, which I did. It seemed kind of fleshy, like a mango. I took a small bite. Mmm! Very sweet and juicy. At first.
Then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere---WHAM this PUTRID aftertaste bowls you over and gets worse with every passing second. Blech!!! Worse and worse. Awfuler and awfuler. Ack!!! Like pouring bleach all over your tongue.
So I was faced with a quandary---Do I just throw the persimmons out, or attempt to 'fix them up' so they can at least be imbibed without tossing one's cookies?
I searched and searched, and found no appealing persimmon recipes. I also noted warnings not to eat "too many persimmons, as they may induce diarrhea." "Unpalatable" was also a word I ran across a couple of times. Hmm. Not promising. Alas, I blew past all the warnings and fixed them up anyway. (My first mistake.)
I decided to stew them. You can stew just about any fruit, and by adding butter, brown sugar, and lemon juice, enjoy a savory fruity dessert. Which is exactly what I did.
I stewed them and stewed them. And stewed them some more. They just weren't softening. I stewed them for over an hour and finally took them off the stove, as they weren't looking any different. I attempted to mash them up with a potato masher. Finally, I took a small bite.
ACK!!!! There wasn't even any tempting deliciousness this time---just butt-puckering aftertaste, magnified times about ten. I spit it into the sink, washed my mouth out, and dumped the whole pot down the drain. So much for conquering persimmons!! Absolutely awful. You can't even IMAGINE how awful they were. Chug a bottle of Windex and that might get you about half-way there.
I chewed a stick of gum in an attempt to get rid of the taste. It took me OVER AN HOUR to get rid of it, it lingered and lingered.
Also, we woke up this morning and the whole kitchen sink was broken, with dirty water and bits of persimmon everywhere. They clogged up my sink!!! Those little sons of bitches!!!! We can't use the sink or the disposal or anything, it's all a big mess. Unbelievable!
So, the moral of the story is: Avoid Persimmons. They are the fruit of the devil. I hope I never see one again as long as I live! They look like revolting little tomatoes, except they're pure evil.
Or, ignore my warnings and try them for yourself. Just have plenty of toilet paper on hand. And gum. And a good plumber. And one of those big laundry pins for your nose. I'll stop now.
