Theme Thursday -- Hat

Hubband has a hat.

 Our son Samuel likes to wear it.

So, I tried to take a picture.

But, he would not hold still.

Or, even look at me when I asked.

At one point, he ducked completely out of frame.

In the end, this was the best I could do.

Click on the link to see how other Theme Thursday participants wore their HATS.

I am no Gladys Kravitz

Last week, I confessed to being a neighborhood nosy pants.  I told you about my kitty-corner-across-the-street neighbors, Dave and Amy, who's (alleged) marital spat led to some (alleged) difficulty with their recycling.  (Allegedly.)    Well, guess what?  Last Sunday, Dave and Amy had a baby.  Not an alleged baby.  A real honest to goodness baby.  I didn't even know Amy was pregnant!  Hmm.  How nosy can I be?

I went over with a lasagna and an "It's a Boy" balloon.  Dave and Amy and baby Ethan are all doing fine.  Only my reputation is bruised. 

I Feel So Spring Has Sprung

It is SPRING!!!!

This time of year always reminds me of the Frank Sintara song, "You Make Me Feek So Young."  I first heard it as a girl when I was taking voice lessons.  Yes, voice lessons.  No, I can not sing, but my parents indulged me, bless their hearts.  I wanted to sound like Pat Benatar.  My teacher made me sound like Tony Bennet.  A flat, tone-deaf Tony Bennet.  I did become familiar with some old standards though, which I came to appreciate later.

With the change in the weather, I have taken every opportunity to go outside.

I dined al fresco.  On macaroni-n-cheese and apple slices in the backyard.  I have heard that meat will be grilled out there soon, but the story is unsubstantiated.  I'll know more at the weekend.

I took up jogging.  In tight, counter-clockwise circles around the patio furniture, pushing Sam on his bicycle (which he can not pedal), while he squealed, "Really, really fast, Mommy!  Really, really fast!"

I participated in a scientific study on the effects of vitamin D on intelligence.  I sat in the sun and completed the New York Times Crossword Puzzle.  But it was only the "easy" Monday puzzle.  The results are inconclusive.  More research must be done.

So, you see, I have been busy-busy.


How about you?  Has your Spring sprung?  And, how do you plan to take advantage of it?

The Week in Kids, #1

This week Samuel tried out some new phrases.  "Don't talk about me.  I'm special."  We don't know where he learned them and get the impression that he has no idea what they mean, but he says them with great enthusiasm and almost perfect annunciation.  Yeah Sam!!  He also modeled his new power-tool goggles.

We played with our food ~ open faced barbecue sandwiches with green beans and grapes.

Sam was only served half a sandwich and two green beans, but when he saw the grown-up plates, he was inspired.

This week Jonah prayed, "Thank you God, for the smell of toast in the morning," and  "Heal me Jesus.  I have big snot." Mommy kissed his little snot maker while wearing lipstick.  The child does not look this distorted in real life.

Catherine and Daddy shared some love over the morning paper.  We still can't keep that girl off the table, but she has learned to climb down on her own, if she can be bothered.

Auntie C and Uncle J came for a very short visit, that included coffee and breakfast, as they blew through town.  Many pictures were taken, but not by me, and none of them, so you will have to imagine it.

See you next week.

Theme Thursday -- Green

Green?  Green...green...

Beer!

On March 17th, bars all across the United States serve green beer in honor of St. Patrick's Day.  On March 18th, one can buy green beer half-price.

One March 18th, several years ago, when I was a student-teacher (yes, I was a teacher, it's true), I sat on a bar stool, at a place called Flynn's, while a fellow student-teacher of mine, by the name of Art, got completely drunk on half-priced green beer, and tried to explain to me the colors of the Irish flag.  I may have had a green beer or two myself, as the details are a bit jumbled up, but I think this was his story.

"The green is for the emeralds, and the orange is for their hair." he said.

"They don't have emeralds in Ireland." I said.

"They most certainly do.  It is called the Emerald Isle."

"That's because it looks like an emerald from a distance, you doofus." I said, very politely.  ("Doofus," being a term of art at teacher college.)

"Exactly!  Green.  And the orange is because all true Irish have orange hair, which is called red, but is really orange.  Green and Orange.  Get it?"

"Yeah, I get that you are drunk."  I though to myself, very politely.

But, as I squeezed my brain, moist with green beer, I realized every Irish I had ever known (and by Irish, I mean real Irish, not some fourth generation American girl with an obscure Gaelic name her mother picked out of Beyond Shannon and Sean just because her last name happened to be Murphy) had red hair.  But, I only knew two.  And, not a single member of U2 has red hair.  That had to mean something right? 

"What about the white?" I asked.  "The white, between the green and orange."

"Think about it." he said, drunk and condescending.  "All Irish people are white.  Duh."  ("Duh," being a term of art at teacher college.)

I thought about it.  Mr. McGuigan, that girl I knew in high school, and the four members of U2 -- everyone of them, white.

It was obvious then.  I had had enough green beer.  Time to switch to amber.

Dear Theme Thursday, if any future themes are orange, white, or amber, I'm covered.

Click the link to read Theme Thursday entries from other participants!

Just Call Me Gladys Kravits

I spend a lot of time at the kitchen sink.  I won't bore you with the details of why, but you can guess.

From there, I have a perfect view of the house kitty-corner across the street.  Dave and Amy live there.  They are a young-ish couple with two incomes and no children.  I often live vicariously through them as they drive away for a Saturday morning brunch at one of those cute places by the river.  (I have no idea where they are really going, but what is the point of taking  a vicarious trip to Home Depot?)

Last Wednesday, from my spot at the kitchen sink, I saw Dave wheel the recycling can out to the curb.  This was worthy of note, (in my small nosy-pants world anyway), because pick-up day is Monday for garbage, and every other Monday for recycling.  Hmm.

At first, I thought they were going out of town and would not be here on Sunday night to put the can out.  But, Dave did not put the garbage can out.  Double hmm.

That night, with Dave and Amy still clearly at home, a blustery rain storm swept up our street, over-turning Dave and Amy's can, spreading recycling half way down the block.  The next morning, they were both out there, dressed for work, picking up wet news paper and crushed aluminum cans.  Then, Dave wheeled the can back to the house.  Triple hmm.  (I'll stop with the "hmm" thing now.  I know when a bit gets tired.)

Over here, in the part of the housing development that is actually my business, our recycling can was fit to burst.  The previous recycle pick-up Monday was a holiday.  Hubband and I (mostly Hubband, but I should have thought to remind him) forgot to put the cans out.  We did notice in time to put the garbage can out in front of the vacant house across the street, but the recycling truck was long gone.  Dave and Amy would have both had that day off too.  The real story (as I saw it) was beginning to present itself.

Dave and Amy, (mostly Dave, but Amy should have reminded him) forgot to put their recycling out on the last pick-up day.  Their can was full.  So was the recycling bin in the house.  It was over flowing or the cat was into it.  They came home from a long day at work.  They were tired.  They were hungry.  They had no children to scream at.  So, they turned on each other.

You shouldn't let the bin get so full.

You should take it out more often.

Why can't you take it out?

Because there is no room in the can!

You're bringing that up again?  Let it go!

Well, don't forget next time.

Maybe if I had a nice wife, she would remind me.

Maybe if my husband weren't such an ass, I'd be nicer.

You see how quickly these things can degenerate.  Until finally...

All I want is to eat my dinner!

All I want is for the recycling to get taken out before the truck comes!

Fine!  You want the recycling out?  I'll take it out!  Right now.  It can sit out there on the curb all week for all I care!  Are you happy now?

Or, maybe he just got his days mixed up.

Bubble and Squeak

One day last week, Hubband called from work during his lunch hour.  We chatted a bit, about this and that.  It was pleasant.  Then he did it.  He hit me with the three words every housewife dreads.

"What's for dinner?"

My voice, if I had one, was letting out nothing more than a sustained, "Uhhhhhh."  But my brain was working overtime.  In my head, it sounded something like this.

What?  Dinner?  Aw, c'mon.  Whydya have to go and do that?  We were having such a nice conversation.  It's like noon, right?  Six hours to go.  I don't even know what is in the fridge.  When was the last time we picked up a pizza?  "What do you want for dinner?" is a better question.  Why must I always be the one to think of these things...and on it went.  Until my mouth got ahead of my brain.  (I'd like to pretend this never happens, but I would be...well...pretending)

Having no answer, I blurted out, "Bubble and squeak."

Hubband chuckled, but called my bluff.  "What's in that?" 

"I don't know," I had to admit.  "Cabbage, I think.  Or maybe sausage."

"Well, it's English," said Hubband "It probably has one of those things." 

After that conversation, and still with no plans for dinner, I did some investigating.  Bubble and squeak is basically a potato and cabbage pancake.  I had left over mashed potatoes.  I had cabbage, though it was the red kind.  And, I had red kale, I didn't know what to do with.  So, Bubble and Squeak it was.  I served it with breaded cod.  It neither bubbled, nor squeaked, but it was good and my kids ate every bite.

Bubble and Squeak ~ 

Desperate (for dinner ideas) American Housewife Style

3 cups mashed potatoes

5-6 leaves red cabbage, chopped small

6 leaves red kale, de-ribbed

fresh chives, chopped

butter and olive oil for frying

1. Boil cabbage and kale for about 10 minutes until soft. Drain.
2. Mix with mashed potatoes and chives.  The stiffer the potatoes the better I think.  Mine were a bit soft.
3. Take a handful of mixture and form it into a round patty.  
4. Combine butter and olive oil in pan over medium high heat. 
5. Add patties to pan, cooking 3-5 minutes on each side.  I would add a little extra olive oil between sides.

Next up, TOAD IN THE HOLE!