You Know You're a Bigot When...

When the following thought occurs to you:
"Boy, I smell. Too bad there are so many other people in this room. At least I'm sitting next to this woman from _____________ (another country in the Eastern hemisphere where there are large, concentrated populations). It won't bother her because she's used to poor personal hygiene."

She is Her Father's Daughter

Quiet

When quiet is good:

• 3 am
  
• When enjoying the beauty of the Grand Tetons
  
• While teaching a class
  
• While watching Lost
  

When quiet is bad:

• On the radio
  
• In the middle of a concert
  
• In a public restroom stall
  
• When Stella is playing
  

Roasted Chicken: Finger Lickin' Good

If there's one thing everyone can agree upon it must be that good food is good fun to eat. Yes? I know we might not all agree on what good food is, however. Around here we like to eat meat in its many varied forms. The one recipe of Julia Child's that I have made a couple times is her raosted chicken. It's great because you take fresh, basic elements and turn them into a feast. This is basically a whole chicken, butter, carrots, onions, more butter and various other littler things, i.e. salt and pepper. Very tasty. The only thing is that you must baste it every ten minutes. This is a chore in the hot summer months, but this time of the year it's a lovely activity.

Here we have your basic chicken not yet tortured in the oven.


A few ingredients getting ready...


Lastly, the chicken on the way to being finished. Notice it's browning nicely.


Unfortunately, we were ravished when this was done and I wasn't allowed the time for a photo. We had to eat.

Earlier this week I made another tasty dish with, yet again, the most basic ingredients:
4 chicken breats
2 sticks o' butter
3 carrots
2 yellow onions
4 celery stalks
6 apples
2 sprigs of tarragon
handful of bread crumbs
salt and pepper

We cooked it over indirect heat on the grill for about an hour and MAN ALIVE was it good! I love cooking with root vegetables and it has inspired me to get my garden growing so I can have some straight from our good earth next fall.

Easy on the Text

I like to call this video "C'mon, Kid" or "My Annoying Voice."

Moving Right Along

Today's theme is Life Lite.

One day she's bathing in a sink...


The next day she's practising her walk.

"Oh, You Heard What Happened to Her, Right? She Got Bored"

Boredom has been a theme in my life lately. My boredom and that of others. Others that I know and others I have been told about. It's not that my life is particularly more boring now than it ever has been, but that people feel more inquisitive of the level of my boredom, its existence and their anecdotal reassurances that I am not alone.

Up to this point in my adult life I have almost always had full-time jobs. If not one full-timer then a couple part-timers to mish-mash together my life and standard of living. I remember one job where I felt so bored that I would be physically exhausted by my boredom at 8:00 am. That's difficult--physically exhausting boredom is a cross to bear. And I know many an adult that does bear it in a small cubicle with a computer monitor and a caffeine high and an illegal eBay window looming behind their workity work.

Now my boredom involves another small human. An incredibly cute human with a budding personality and babbling speech patterns to boot. A little soul. A new life. A little soul that requires the same things over and over again throughout the day, throughout the days, throughout the months. Admittedly, it can be boring. It can feel futile. But is it boring in the same way that after lunch meetings in a small windowless room with stale air and lame agendas are boring? No. Is it boring the in the same way that pages upon pages of meaningless data entry with your local easy listening music station playing in the background is boring? No. Is it boring the same way that disciplining someone's ill-mannered, farts-in-class, pompous, seventeen-year old "young adult" who never does their homework is boring. Resounding no.

The thing I've come to realize lately is that everyone loves a story. Everyone loves a good story, but everyone especially loves their own stories. If these stories bear the slightest resemblance to your life they want you to hear it. I don't take their my-wife-was-bored-staying-home-so-she-went-back-to-work or their I-was-bored-staying-home-so-I-went-back-to-work stories personally. I think deep down they think that staying home is a sacrifice to the Golden Calf of Boredom and it's a worthwhile sacrifice. And that's nice. I've had a number of people eavesdrop on me and others similarly shackled while we talk in public of our domestic lives only to interrupt us to say, "I think you've made the right choice" or "Great job!" You have no idea how encouraging it is.

When it comes down to it, I recognize that staying home is a sacrifice. My husband cannot order take-out pizza as frequently as he would like. He cannot purchase as many books as he would like. All kidding aside, you also have the other end of the spectrum. Do people ever describe returning to work as a sacrifice? Because it is. There is so much time to be spent with one's child. There is so very much empty, boring time. The thing I remind myself when I am tired of making grilled cheese, cutting grapes into eighths, filling sippy cups and nursing is that I have chosen to be home because it is good for us. It is good for all of US. It is good to have people home taking care of their loved ones. It is good to have neighborhood homes inhabited in the middle of the day. It is good for others to see children being pushed in strollers by their mothers. And I know this because when I used to drive to work it made me feel good to see others doing the same.

I do get bored. But I know it is all the moments of boring that I will look back on and cherish. Not to mention the fact that: hello? Hobbies? Doesn't anyone have them anymore? Don't we recreate? Don't we garden or read or make things or cook things for fun anymore? Martha Stewart built a huge empire out of domestic arts. That says something.

Intervene

Sometimes I do things without thinking. You know, pick my nose in public, shout profanities at slow-moving vehicles, physically express exasperation at Woman who parks her cart in front of the dairy section at Trader Joe's and contemplates ALL THE DAIRY while trying to decide what to purchase when, really, well, she can do that. It is a free world. Who am I to complain? I'm not the boss of her.*

Lately, I have not been thinking correctly in my dealings with Stella. I have been acting irrationally. This has resulted in the following:

• changing her diaper when she doesn't want it changed
  
• wiping her nose when she doesn't want it wiped
  
• cleaning her face when she doesn't want it cleaned

According to Stella this has simply got to stop.


*For the record. It's like people who go to McDonald's and stand there and look up at the menu. Like you haven't been going there YOUR ENTIRE LIFE. This bugged me to no end when I worked there.

Me: Welcome to McDonald's. Can I help you?
Customer staring slack-jawed at menu: Do I want a cheeseburger or a hamburger. Let. Me. Think.
Me: Take your time.
Customer: Takes their T.I.M.E.

Why Buy Toys?

When Stella wanders around the house looking for things to do, sometimes she chooses to play with her toys. However, many times she wanders to the garbage can and the tupperware drawer. The thing she likes the most, though, is the recycle bin. Perhaps it's because its contents change daily. She pulls out egg cartons, yogurt containers, cereal boxes and, on this particular day, a Jell-O box. Oh the joy