waning summer weekend

We hit the scene at the bay for Statehood Day celebrations.

It was bright. There were flower arrangement contests and food and music stuffs. We left when the Sons of Hawaii blew out the generator and it started to rain. Weird Al was roving around with his lovely family and some scary frowning woman.

Back at the pointy house, I made waaaay too much fudge, and fixed my jelly by boiling it down with a handful of guavas I picked near our house. This involved dragging the stroller down the stairs, strapping in Leif, and running up the road before the cats could follow us and climb into the basket. I found a big stick to swing up at the branches, and, this failing, made flying leaps at the tree limbs and shook them until one or two semi-ripe guavas fell out.

Three hours later...

Yes! It jelled! Take that, Mother Nature, how you like being in a jar? (please don't smite me)

And for all that leaping and scambling? Someone at work today handed me a giant bag full of beautiful strawberry guavas. So I did it all over again this evening. Now we just need to make some bread, because we are breadless since the kiddo went on a toast bender.

In other news, I broke my no-axe-murdering-hitchhikers rule and stopped to pick up my epileptic surfer neighbor, who I am almost certain was heading to work with a diet pepsi can full of vodka. Am a good neighborly type, what with the ride-giving and the gossiping.

soup and mashed potatoes

Recently I've been eating a lot of canned soup, which is easy to bring to work, low in fat, low in calories, and high in sodium*. It looks very sad in a bowl, though. Today I am eating brown liquid with corn. Which tastes better than the glue I accidentally took a swig from this morning.

At work, I have ordered Julia Child's cookbook because of the movie coming out. My favorite Julia Child moment was shortly before her death, when Food Network hosted an all-star tv-chef Christmas party. Someone brought a boneless turkey stuffed with a boneless chicken stuffed with a boneless duck. As the turducken was carved (was sad to learn that the turducken was not actually a real animal), the camera panned across elaborate pastries, fancy stuffings, unrecognizable entrees and desserts. Then there was Julia Child and the host. The host asked, "And what have you brought for us, Julia?" And she held up a big bowl, "Mashed potatoes!" I love her.

*While at the doctor this week, the nurse took my blood pressure and said, "Whoa! Are you feeling ok?" My blood pressure is down at "barely living" levels, so I guess I can handle some soup.

1 year old

The little badger has turned 1! A year ago yesterday, Stephenie Meyer annoyed me into labor, and 13 hours later Leif was born a limp blue thing with his cord twice around his neck. The feeling of him solidifying into a firm living baby with his first breath is one that will never leave me. He's a baby born of a reluctant reconcilliation in the wake of heartbreak, and he has done more to heal our family than we dared hope for. On the news today the pictures of 1 year-old birthday kidlets were narrated with descriptions like, "she enjoys tickle-me-elmo and eating rice" or "he likes to play with his grandma and watch cartoons". Is this the most descriptive thing that can be said about their children? I think there may be more to it than that. This is Leif. He enjoys playing with cat food, eating toilet paper, blowing fart noises, sneaking up and yanking on his brother's hair, and nursing on just one side (am now amazing one-breasted woman). At 12 months, he is cautious about standing and prefers to power-crawl until he forgets to move an arm and face-dives into the floor at high speed. He can say [inconsistently] "dad", "cat", and "piko", and understands "not the catfood!" "stay out of the toilet", "wanna nurse?" and "be nice to the kitty". On the two-hour drives to town he croons himself to sleep and sings along with the radio. At night I sing to him while he drifts off nursing, and he strokes my cheek and shoulder with his chubby hand until it falls limp. I love him so much. Happy birthday, baby boy. 

  

We made brownies instead of cupcakes last night. I had an ambition be ultra-crafty like other blog moms and make a brownie tower with little handmade flags on toothpicks, but in the end we just stood around and ate them out of the pan. That is how we roll.