Well. It's been a while. I'm checking in because I was looking for a recipe I laid out on this format and...well, I made it and I butchered it. It was pretty sad. The flavors were surprisingly comforting, but like a big, heavy blanket that smells slightly of your Grandmother's neighbor who certainly didn't smell as nice as your Grandmother, if you get what I mean. It was fine and it was edible and it was satisfying in a way that you'd rather not discuss with your friends. Like cheap pizza or rough sex. You may discuss personal waxing with your friends, or even your husband's circumcision, but not the way cheap cheese pizza dipped in ranch dressing reaches into your lizard brain and accesses your pleasure points.
I'll hope to come here more often.
-Em
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Can you actually die from boredom?
We've been experimenting in boredom this week. We have a 12-year-old boy cousin on the premises and the 9-year-old girl child is not here which equals negative girl plus one boy which equals three boys, 3, 7 and 12.
Which equals lots and lots of lego guns.
I neglected to schedule anything solid during this week because I figured an experiment in how boy children relate to each other would be edifying, to say the least, and also, seriously, how bored can three boy children get? So bored they think up something else to do? Exactly!
That was my hypothesis. Also, I am lazy.
We are on Day 3 of the experiment and I am happy to report that today is the first day my older boy child has fallen into a pit of despair regarding his boredom and how truly boring it is and how he hates me because I have FAILED to entertain him, drive him somewhere, let him play a video game, etc.
Even in normal life when the girl is home and we have no 12-year-old boy I am always torn about how the summer should be. I love the idea of spending entire days entertaining oneself by playing/beating on one's siblings, reading quietly to oneself, counting petals on flowers outside, tormenting small animals, etc. In reality, however, I am not very good at getting myself going toward a meaningful task and slothfulness turns to depression quickly. I will list the things I have done today to keep myself away from the internets:
1. Watered the garden. This did not take much time because the weather has been very mild and the soil is not drying out fully every day.
2. Refilled two bird feeders. This also did not take much time. Because there were two of them. And it was a fast chore.
3. Cleaned my car, including vacuuming. This took a surprisingly long time. It was filthy.
4. Read a book to the little boy. Tried to sneak a nap in there but he got wise to my attempts.
5. Feed the chickens. I guess I could have included this with the other bird feeders, but I chose to make a separate event out of it.
6. Pruned a bit. Not much.
7. Ate lunch.
What I have there is roughly 45 minutes of hard work. I have stretched it out over 7 hours.
Oh my god I am so bored.
We're totally going swimming tomorrow, I don't care if it's not hot.
Which equals lots and lots of lego guns.
I neglected to schedule anything solid during this week because I figured an experiment in how boy children relate to each other would be edifying, to say the least, and also, seriously, how bored can three boy children get? So bored they think up something else to do? Exactly!
That was my hypothesis. Also, I am lazy.
We are on Day 3 of the experiment and I am happy to report that today is the first day my older boy child has fallen into a pit of despair regarding his boredom and how truly boring it is and how he hates me because I have FAILED to entertain him, drive him somewhere, let him play a video game, etc.
Even in normal life when the girl is home and we have no 12-year-old boy I am always torn about how the summer should be. I love the idea of spending entire days entertaining oneself by playing/beating on one's siblings, reading quietly to oneself, counting petals on flowers outside, tormenting small animals, etc. In reality, however, I am not very good at getting myself going toward a meaningful task and slothfulness turns to depression quickly. I will list the things I have done today to keep myself away from the internets:
1. Watered the garden. This did not take much time because the weather has been very mild and the soil is not drying out fully every day.
2. Refilled two bird feeders. This also did not take much time. Because there were two of them. And it was a fast chore.
3. Cleaned my car, including vacuuming. This took a surprisingly long time. It was filthy.
4. Read a book to the little boy. Tried to sneak a nap in there but he got wise to my attempts.
5. Feed the chickens. I guess I could have included this with the other bird feeders, but I chose to make a separate event out of it.
6. Pruned a bit. Not much.
7. Ate lunch.
What I have there is roughly 45 minutes of hard work. I have stretched it out over 7 hours.
Oh my god I am so bored.
We're totally going swimming tomorrow, I don't care if it's not hot.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
baby teeth can bite my ass
Well, the Universe dealt me a solid today. A year ago, we spent something like 4 large on the big kids teeth because of negligent tooth brushing blah blah cavity blah baby tooth root canal fuck. Today, the kids came home with a One Hundred Per Cent Clean Bill Of Dental Health, so if I wanted to sell them tomorrow to pay for my Christmas bills, I'd have a pretty good chance of fetching a pretty penny for the lot.
Thank god, is all I can say because we have a holy ton of other shit to spend that 4 grand on now.
Thank god, is all I can say because we have a holy ton of other shit to spend that 4 grand on now.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
scraboonit!
Man! I blew it already! Missed a post last night.
Brief recap:
Last night was awesome. After freaking out all day and having three people tell me that I'm a big fat idiot and not to freak out, I stopped freaking out just in time to really, really enjoy the boy's Winter Garden. It was so beautiful and amazing and perfect. He did get a little squirreley a couple of times, but he was beautiful and amazing and perfect and himself, through and through.
Brief recap:
Last night was awesome. After freaking out all day and having three people tell me that I'm a big fat idiot and not to freak out, I stopped freaking out just in time to really, really enjoy the boy's Winter Garden. It was so beautiful and amazing and perfect. He did get a little squirreley a couple of times, but he was beautiful and amazing and perfect and himself, through and through.
Friday, December 4, 2009
jesus fucking christ and shit
today was an impossibly long fucker of a day and it isn't even over yet.
FUCK ME.
Soon, so soon. As soon as all the kids are asleep, then I can officially drink too much wine and spend too much time dicking around on the interwebs and then collapse into bed to sleep the blissful sleep of a person who will only have to get up and do it all again tomorrow.
FUCK ME.
FUCK ME.
Soon, so soon. As soon as all the kids are asleep, then I can officially drink too much wine and spend too much time dicking around on the interwebs and then collapse into bed to sleep the blissful sleep of a person who will only have to get up and do it all again tomorrow.
FUCK ME.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
porker
On Tuesday we went to the butcher to pick up our half of a hog. When we arrived we were informed that the hams and bacon and hocks were not, in fact, ready yet, but we did manage to leave with the fresh cuts. The first time we bought meat directly from a farmer was a couple of years ago when we bought half of a hog from a local lady who was advertising on Craigslist. It was, hands down, the tastiest pork I'd ever eaten, not to mention the freshest and localest. Next we moved on to local, direct-from-farmer-purchased duck, chicken, and beef, mostly via the farmer's market in Healdsburg. Then last spring we bought a lamb and then a month or so later a goat.
Basically what I'm saying is that I have parts of a lamb, odds and ends off a goat, a couple chickens, duck fat, 5 lbs of ground chuck and the better half of half of a pig in my freezer right now as well as chicken stock, green beans, various dried fruits from the back yard, some tomatoes we were too lazy to do anything with before they rotted on the counter, tomatillos and, like, 7 loaves of zucchini bread. Plus a loaf of fail pound cake. Plus some crappy bacon we got from somewhere that I won't actually let my family eat. Plus ice.
Basically, what I'm really saying, is that our house is probably a really good place to be:
a) in case of the apocalypse
b) if you really like meat
c) if you really like meat.
Tonight we had the first pork chops off the new pig and they were delicious. So...CLEAN tasting, somehow. They were the most brightly flavoured pork chops we've had since the last time we had home-grown pork chops. I made an apple sauce that was served hot on the side with the last of our mystery variety apples, baked treviso radicchio with olive oil, salt and pepper, roasted potatoes with whole garlic cloves and sage...it was all really, really good and almost entirely local; the olive oil, salt and pepper were the only things I could not tell you the origin of. The potatoes were from Preston's farm, the treviso was from a lady at the market and the sage and apples were from the back yard.
The market is over now until next spring and all we have in the yard right now are bitter greens, choys, walnuts and maybe a lemon in a day or two, but we do have Tierra Farms right down the road and I'm sure we'll be giving them plenty of business in the coming months.
Basically what I'm saying is that I have parts of a lamb, odds and ends off a goat, a couple chickens, duck fat, 5 lbs of ground chuck and the better half of half of a pig in my freezer right now as well as chicken stock, green beans, various dried fruits from the back yard, some tomatoes we were too lazy to do anything with before they rotted on the counter, tomatillos and, like, 7 loaves of zucchini bread. Plus a loaf of fail pound cake. Plus some crappy bacon we got from somewhere that I won't actually let my family eat. Plus ice.
Basically, what I'm really saying, is that our house is probably a really good place to be:
a) in case of the apocalypse
b) if you really like meat
c) if you really like meat.
Tonight we had the first pork chops off the new pig and they were delicious. So...CLEAN tasting, somehow. They were the most brightly flavoured pork chops we've had since the last time we had home-grown pork chops. I made an apple sauce that was served hot on the side with the last of our mystery variety apples, baked treviso radicchio with olive oil, salt and pepper, roasted potatoes with whole garlic cloves and sage...it was all really, really good and almost entirely local; the olive oil, salt and pepper were the only things I could not tell you the origin of. The potatoes were from Preston's farm, the treviso was from a lady at the market and the sage and apples were from the back yard.
The market is over now until next spring and all we have in the yard right now are bitter greens, choys, walnuts and maybe a lemon in a day or two, but we do have Tierra Farms right down the road and I'm sure we'll be giving them plenty of business in the coming months.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
reasons why I am an idiot, number who's keeping track in an unending series
FUCK. Also: SHITASSBITCHFUCK.
There was a misunderstanding this evening, and I hate misunderstandings, especially when they make me feel stupid and embarrassed. See above.
The big one had a parent evening with Special! Live! Guest Speakers!
I thought it started at 8.
Apparently, it started at 7.
It takes me 20 minutes to drive to her school.
There was a sign on her classroom door that said "Knock And Wait Outside".
I waited for 20 minutes in the COLD ASS OUTSIDE. After knocking. Lightly.
After many increasingly embarrassed texts to my Baby Daddy (dood, so stupid, all waiting outside in the cold...do they hate me...why do they not open door...SO FUCKING COLD OMG I'M COMING HOME...) I went the hell home. Where I am now drinking wine and blogging about what a seriously lame lameass I am.
NO ONE MUST EVER KNOW. I crept away all stealth-like, lest someone hear my boots on the pavement outside and look out the window and say, "Hey, isn't that Emily out there skulking around like a moron? Let's heckle her for being too timid to knock with greater force than a cockroach, for verily, she is as such. Ha, ha, a cockroach I say. DORK!"
Thus ends day two. Shit.
There was a misunderstanding this evening, and I hate misunderstandings, especially when they make me feel stupid and embarrassed. See above.
The big one had a parent evening with Special! Live! Guest Speakers!
I thought it started at 8.
Apparently, it started at 7.
It takes me 20 minutes to drive to her school.
There was a sign on her classroom door that said "Knock And Wait Outside".
I waited for 20 minutes in the COLD ASS OUTSIDE. After knocking. Lightly.
After many increasingly embarrassed texts to my Baby Daddy (dood, so stupid, all waiting outside in the cold...do they hate me...why do they not open door...SO FUCKING COLD OMG I'M COMING HOME...) I went the hell home. Where I am now drinking wine and blogging about what a seriously lame lameass I am.
NO ONE MUST EVER KNOW. I crept away all stealth-like, lest someone hear my boots on the pavement outside and look out the window and say, "Hey, isn't that Emily out there skulking around like a moron? Let's heckle her for being too timid to knock with greater force than a cockroach, for verily, she is as such. Ha, ha, a cockroach I say. DORK!"
Thus ends day two. Shit.
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