home cooking

Cardo and I were lucky enough to have a date night on Friday. We didn't do much, nothing fancy, but we did actually cook at home. I keep saying that we should do that on our date nights, but we often end up eating out. Last time, we were very much less than impressed with the restaurant we chose and we won't be returning. At least at home, we don't have to worry about bad service and we're more likely to cook something healthy at home.

So, Friday, we roasted some Brussels sprouts with apples and turkey bacon. It was good. I keep thinking that I'll like Brussels sprouts more than I do, but then I have to remind myself that I've made them, like, twice. I totally believe that the more often I eat them, the more I'll like them. I think I'm right. We also cooked some pineapple (we just put in in the cast iron skillet on the rangetop) and it ended up fabulous!



Lest you imagine that's all I ate, fear not. We also baked some potatoes, but, geez, that takes forever. I suggested we put the potatoes in before the Brussels sprouts, but we needed more than just ten minutes. So, we had a two-course meal.

I also made Cardo watch Jumping Jack Flash with me. He can't get over the fact that I watched it when I was a kid.

[Not the cleanest language in this clip, just to let you know.]



"Jumpin' Jack Flash - Telephone Booth Scene"

cat tales

Once, a few years ago, I walked into a professor's office and he asked me, "What happened to your face?"

"Oh, my cat attacked me."

"That's funny," he said, "I wouldn't keep a pet who attacks me."

Well, Kitsy, as we so often call him, is still here. While I get what Dr Chair was saying, I also love my cat. He's a member of the family, and we accept him despite his occasional testiness.



He (the cat, not the professor) came into our lives in 2004. Cardo decided he wanted to get me a cat (a decision I think he still regrets sometimes) for Valentine's Day. In true us fashion, we didn't get a cat until March. We adopted Snuggles from the SPCA. He was already named and I had this weird notion that it wouldn't be right to change his name. He was absolutely tiny, and he was rather snuggly then.

Shortly after we adopted Snuggles, I got pregnant with Pic. I was sick almost all of the time during months two through four (into my second trimester, which I didn't think was the way it was supposed to go), so I wasn't up and around a lot. Snuggles would sit on my chest and tuck his head under my chin when I was sitting down. Eventually, I also napped a lot during my pregnancy. Snuggles was only too happy to join me for a nap. He still looks at me when the day has gone on long enough expecting me to go take a nap so he can settle in too.

For a while, he had a brother. This was 2007 to 2009. We had Lucky (also adopted and also already named) for a little less than two years. Snuggles, being a spry four years old, loved playing with his brother. Lucky, who had been found in a field with crates full of kittens, was probably older than the ten years the Human Society employees guessed him to be, and he wasn't always as enthusiastic about Snuggles's playfulness. However, Lucky tolerated it well.



Snuggles himself has shown great patience with the young 'uns. When Pic was but a wee bairn, she would grab his fur, delighting in how soft he was. Snuggles waited until she had been up and running for several months before he started defending himself from Pic's often overzealous advances. He's the same way with our dearly beloved friends' little one now.

With the rest of us, though? Well, he gets in his moods. He'll lure you in as he sprawls out, tempting us to pet him or rub his tummy. And, I still fall for it, even though I know he seems to detest having his tummy rubbed. It's a trick. He only wants to grab your hand and latch on with his claws and teeth.

My dad still laughs when I mention Snuggles by name because he, too, knows the dangers of trusting the cat too easily.

Although I'm wary of being too attached to animals because I know they'll inevitably die (as will we all), Snuggles is firmly tucked away in my heart.* I love that he still awaits a daily nap, as if those still happen on a regular basis (we both wish). I love that he plays fetch. I love that he purrs loudly to himself as he's getting ready to go to bed, even though no one is petting him. I love that he looks black in most light, but when the sun shines on him, he's the color of some fabulous deep dark chocolate. I love that he snores.



When we were deciding on a new pet recently, I was so hoping to adopt another cat. I was overruled, two to one, though, and we got a dog. More on her next week.

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* Aren't you glad I didn't say "literally"? Because that would be gross.

maquillarte, an art i've not mastered

This week, one of the many electronic newsletters I receive contains a demonstration on how to do your makeup (or, como maquillarte -- I subscribe to both the English and Spanish version and rarely open either).

And, again, I love what makeup can do, but I also marvel that people have the patience for all of these steps. There are times I kind of wish I wore more makeup (more than just my powder foundation two or three times a week), but at some point, I have to wash it off and then I just look like me again. And, it's hard enough to see my face when I'm just putting on foundation. Eye makeup? Ugh. I have to get so close to the mirror to see my eyes that, well, everything blurs because I'm too close. I think if I was handy enough with makeup, I would be able to apply it without looking? But, really I don't know if that's how it works.

I suppose I could always go the way of permanent makeup...if that didn't completely freak me out. In the meantime, I'll leave the cosmetic fun to others.

compare and contrast

[The following is another post I wrote long-ish ago and never got around to posting here. I was trying to figure out a rhythm in this space before I posted these writings. I think I've got it figured it, even if my practice has not been perfect.]

I wonder if it's human nature to make comparisons between people. There are times I feel it's all we do, but I think I'm incredibly sensitive and I have this inferiority complex coupled with a vicious streak of perfectionism (yes, it's fun here in my head).

But, really, right now, I'm thinking about this in terms of being a parent. It seems like, from the start, people are checking 'em out and sizing 'em up*. It's all about when our respective kids rolled over, started crawling, got teeth. How old was your kid when she started walking? How many words or signs did your kid know by the time he was a year old? My kid started talking in complete sentences when he was nine months old. Oh, really? Mine was already reading Tolstoy by then...when she wasn't composing concertos and starting the newest dada revolution.

Or something.

Actually, at first I felt like this was the tenor of a lot of conversations and I tried not to get sucked in, but I wasn't always successful. I can go on and on about how long it seemed to take Pic to finally start crawling. (How old was she? I can't even remember now. Eight months? Ten months? All I know for sure is that she started at some point and has long since moved on.)

I had a nice big freak-out around the time she was four. She wasn't reading picture books on her own by then. I couldn't sit her down with The Piggy in the Puddle and have her give a reading for us.

I've worked really hard to not feel any pressure when it comes to any of that anymore. I've tried to not put any pressure on any others either. I know that I probably still ask those questions -- Oh, is she starting to walk now? -- but I leave my responses to the more general 'oh' or 'uh-huh, well everyone learns/develops at his or her own pace, right?' variety. I really try.

But, back to what I was saying above: is it natural that we make these comparisons or am I so far entrenched in a system of constant evaluation/ranking/hierarchizing that to be without that feels wrong?

The questions I get about Pic now are along the lines of what she's learning and how much she knows. Is she learning? Does she know the requisite very-young-person stuff? Is she finished with kindergarten?

I find my reactions to these questions range from discomfort to amusement. I obsess so much about the reading thing for reasons I won't go into now, that I want to be able to answer that she's reading and comprehending and thinking critically about Hamlet by now. I mean, duh, of course, why wouldn't she be, right, with a mom who has deep roots in literature? I'm striving to keep all of that anxiety bottled up or scribbled in my own writing to keep it away from Pic, but it's not easy.

As far as the other questions, the questions about her grade level? I find those a bit amusing. We're not homeschoolers who are replicating school at home. We're unschoolers. Pic's never been in a grade. She's never been a part of the K-12 deal (although we always called daycare 'school' when she was going). She'd be in kindergarten had we sent her to more traditional schooling**. But, here's the thing: we didn't. We didn't send her off to school. She's not in any grade. If she stays home, she'll never be in any grade. I'll never be able to tell someone what grade she's in. I have no idea how she'll respond to this question when she starts getting it herself.

I know the whole concept freaks people out and I'll tell you, it freaks me out a bit, too. I was all about school when I was there. I'm kind of still all about it. I was good at school. It's one of the only things I've ever been really good at. I was good at the tasks and the tests and the worksheets and getting the right grades. I myself am learning how to exist outside of that. I'm not even really certain we can live completely outside of that as the career Pic has chosen for herself will require a college degree.

I'm waiting for someone to ask if Pic is happy or where her passions are instead of the more focused questions about content and grade-level of her learning. I think we're all so ensconced in the rhetoric of schooling that it takes a paradigm shift to be able to discuss learning outside of multiple-choice and essays and scantrons and report cards.

* I actually have a children's book named this. I haven't ever read the book and I have no idea where exactly it is right now, but really...

** I always find it strange to call public/private school 'traditional' because I feel homeschool was probably more the traditional schooling well before 'brick-and-mortar schools replaced them as the new traditional. I also don't like to always say 'brick-and-mortar' because then I like to mentally shorten that to 'b-&'m' schools and then I just start thinking 'bm' as in 'bowel movement' and, yes, I really do think about everything this much.

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11/3: Wow, it's been a whole bunch of weeks since I wrote that. I had almost forgotten about it. I wrote it probably somewhere near the beginning of the summer. I'd like to add a bit:

I was very obsessed with the topic for a while because I was hearing how another's child was doing so very well in the traditional school subjects. I felt like a 'And how's Pic doing?' was implied at the end of each statement. I have definitely calmed down over the last few months. Perhaps it has something to do with entering a new decade in my life and deciding that I need to shift so much of my life, to step back, to calm down, to find happiness in what I have.

At the time of the conversation I just (kind of) mentioned, I decided I was just going to say 'That's really great for [whoever]." I figured this would be a good, general response to these situations in which I was feeling uncomfortable, threatened even. I know that I need to remove myself from competitive situations if I want to accomplish much and feel good about myself. I mean, hello, I am creating competitive situations out of thin-freaking- air, so I definitely need to chill.

After using that standard response a couple of times, I started to really get behind it. Because I really do think it's great that your child is reading (I love reading) or that his child is flying through math or that her child picked up playing the piano like it what the child was born to do. I also think lots of things Pic does are great.

Rationally, I know that others aren't constantly challenging me to prove how fabulous my own child is. I know that I bring this all on myself. I also know that my own child is her very own person and I am not responsible for her accomplishments. I feel that I am responsible for trying to expose her to/guide her to/teach her what she is interested in.

Also, I now know how Pic would respond to someone asking what grade she's in. I'll write about it later, as I've written to much here...without even saying all that I wanted to say. I'll remind myself that I like to think through my writing and that this is definitely bloggy-type writing and that I'm swirling around too much in my head on this topic right now.

nearly ww

I think I actually like the curls-in-progress look better (at least it's kind of weird). Next time, I'll not put my hair up when it's very wet (I did wait a day-and-a-half to take the headband out).

Thanks to Poke for the idea, via Pinterest.

nablo, or no?

I am wondering if I should commit to NaBloPoMo this month. I can't believe it's already November! I'm sure I have enough to get by on without adding more stuff to do, but, well, I occasionally like to join in. I think I even completed the challenge once.

I am thinking, though, I've got to be all "gotta do more/gotta be more" if I'm going to commit to this. Perhaps I'll read more, experience more, cook/bake more, create more so I'll actually have something to write about.

I think I can do this, especially if I take more pictures. Oh, that reminds me, though, I have almost 1300 pictures I need to take off the camera right now. O, digital photography! How easy you make it to take a bazillion pictures that will never be seen in hard copy.

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All right. Enough contemplating this. I have to do some actual paycheck-earning work now. (Geez, is it really only the beginning of November? Ah, perspective.)

a bit of lit: 'high' and 'low' culture

From Diane Long Hoeveler's "Frankenstein, feminism, and literary theory": "...feminism has long posited that 'high' culture is a system that favors males and that acts to ensure the continued power and status of the patriarchy. By examining what has traditionally been considered 'low' cultural artifacts, feminists have opened up and made available many works written by women and neglected by the literary establishment."

I would also argue that literary feminism includes opening up the canon and the conversation to include more than the men who've reigned and the women mentioned above,to also include every other voice possible. Perhaps this is just my naive idealism shining brightly? I think that's okay, though.