Life is Art

This morning after my walk I was accosted by what could only be described as ... cuddle-zombies. I spent the first part of the morning downstairs catching up on email as the kids slumbered. As is typical, my daughter arose first and came looking for me. I usually wordlessly scoop her up in my arms as she shakes her hair out of her eyes and instructs me where to take her for morning cuddles. Today's destination: my bed. Where we find the younger one awake (and oddly posed in Downward Dog) whereupon he springs up into standing position on the bed, raises his arms, and makes odd caveman sounds in urgent appeal for me to pick him up. Somehow we all fall into bed, Sophie under the electric blanket on my right, Nels on top of me, smelling lovely and heavy with sleep.

Nels has been saying, "Ice Age the Meltdown" when he sees the poster for said film (P.S. Stick to Pixar). Except he says, "Ice Age the MILKdown!" with a significant pause on the "milk". It's basically as if someone built a little robot in the shape of a boy, a robot whose sole design purpose was Cuteness. Today serving breakfast I am saying it too: "The MILKdown!" when Nels interrupts: "No, Mama," he says with offended dignity. "It's meltdown." (Sophie claims credit for this correction).

Obviously I am very sad about this. What people don't know is that a small child saying "Milk" is one of the nicest things one can hear, especially when they misuse or mispronounce it (Sophie used to say "Mut!" when she was very small, later graduation to "Muk!" and now, of course, the proper expression). Luckily Nels still has words that, when pronounced, make me want to bite him: I hope he hangs on to his "noonles" and "tomayno" (for an example of the latter see the first few seconds of this film) for "noodles" and "tomato".

I can't even phoenetically represent the way Sophie says "squirrell" and "twirl". I can't even copy it verbally. I'll have to record it for posterity before she changes.

Today's pre-dawn walk was an uninspiring, but effective "Newtown" route that inexplicably gave me a blister (I've been using the same shoes for all my walks with no trouble so far). Erica and I got to watch the sunrise and I got to hear a long story involving well-digging and home financing. It was a good story though, for reals.

Now: on to a mid-morning bath with my wee little monsters.

Labels: family life, Nels, Sophie, the bod

Today Blogger Beta (or I guess it's not beta anymore but you wouldn't know it from it's assed-out performance) ate my post from earlier. Believe me, if you'd seen it, you would have thought I was witty yet heartbreakingly eloquent... You would have been moved to tears.

Given that I don't have the energy to dredge up then post my awesomeness again, I'll offer you today's list of:

Other (Besides Blogger-Goofs) Top Annoyances / Evils of the World:

1. Bad hair. Normally I don't care, but this quasi-Peter Cetera fuckup is pretty bad.

2. People who, once you find out where you disagree, hammer away to keep proving you're "wrong". I used to be good at this. I don't do it anymore; at least, I try not to.

3. Girl-lisp. You know what I'm talking about. Contrived.

4. People who take me for granted. I'll show them. I'll show them all! P.S. have you noticed I'm not really speaking to you?

5. Cries for help. Just go get help already.

Enjoyments:

1. Texan girls. Why are they so awesome? The ones I run into, anyway.

2. My husband. He's a goddamned hero. His ass looks good in jeans too.

3. My kids for enjoying scalding-hot baths with me. We Hogabooms don't raise wussies.

4. Teapots delivered from Victoria's Chinatown to my doorstep. Thank you!

5. Thai donuts from "1 2 3 Thai" restaurant. Yeah. That's a name of an actual restaurant in town. Three seconds later, move said donuts up to "Evil" category.

Labels: random

Up at 6 AM. 3.1 miles. 4 hills. Under an hour.

And now I'm too tired to take care of my own children. So far today we've watched about a hundred hours of their newest video.

Labels: burnout, the bod

So - let's skip to the real story. I got my iPod this year. Bitches! I knew it. My husband could only hold off for so long (R.I.P.) . Things that make this iPod even more fun than the one that preceeded it:

* this one has a color screen
* it's smaller (flatter), and bigger (wider, with more storage space)
* it's cheaper (yeah, I know.)
* the packaging was teeny
* Jack Sparrow was on the package and his package is not teeny

I am in many ways a spiritual person but damn. Not when it comes to Mac gadgets. And before you think I'm shallow, please know that I don't really give a damn what you think - also, I really do only have TWO gadgets and they are both white and chrome and Mama loves them very much.


Seconds prior to present-opening.


My mom's home-grown hand-crafted wares.


Christmas Day dinner:

Bruschetta, Cabbage Rolls, Potato Latkes, Strawberry Spinach Salad (minus the strawberries), sparkling cider, and a Guinness Cake (not pictured: the little bastard is still contemplating his doom!)

Labels: family life, FOO, food, holidays, Nels, Ralph, Sophie, the Ghost of Christmas Bastard

(Here's mine last year - for reference).

Hogabooms:

• traditional Christmas pajamas, opened Christmas Eve (Ralph did PJ reconnaissance)
  
• 2 x glue sticks, marker set, fingerpaints, scissors, construction paper, watercolor and fingerpaint pads (from my parents)
• this crazy-assed fucking popcorn that has chocolate, pretzel sticks, and craisins and is just... insanely tasty (from my parents)

Ralph:

• Mauna Loa Kona Coffee Macadamian nuts (in stocking, courtesy of Paige)
• 2 x boxers (from Sophie)
• An Inconvenient Truth (from me)
• leather-clad flashlight from Sundance (from my parents)
• hot-ass jeans (from me)
• Homemade gingerbread house (made by Sophie at preschool)

Kelly

• 1 package Newman's Own caramel cups (in stocking, courtesy of Ralph)
• Candle card (made by Sophie at preschool): "Dear Mama, You have a present - so much that I bet you would like to see it!"
• video iPod - aw yeah, I just slip it in there all casual-like! (from Ralph)
  
• Homegrown teas, Italian seasoning mix, and blueberry jam (grown / made by my mom)

The kids:

• Kitchen set - pots, pans, and spatulas etc. (from me)

Sophie:

• Monster finger puppet (googly-eyed), toy helicopter bath toy, tie-dye panties, monkey bubblebath (in stocking)
• 3 x white socks (from Ralph)
  
• Bug case with 2 types of magnification (It's science!)
• I SPY Mystery book (from my dad)
• Brown and black ribbed tights (from Ralph)
• 3 X panties, black and white tights (from my parents)
• 6 x socks (from my mom)
  

Nels:

• Monster finger puppet (crab monstrer), wind-up robot, tie-dye briefs, fish bubblebath (in stocking)
• Boat bath-toy (from Mama)
• Drawing of Christmas tree and "Scary Hand" (by Sophie)
• How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight? (from my dad)
• 6 x socks, 6 x briefs (from my mom)
• 3 x undershirts (from Ralph)
• 6 x briefs (from Ralph)
  

Gee, see a pattern? Socks and underwear for the kids, particularly for Nels (thirteen pair of knickers!) who is going to think of Christmas as a holiday all about "big boy pants". I am proud to say my children really enjoyed my presents. Nels played with his tiny windup robot ($1.50 at a local shop) for hours.

Other Christmas loot of note:

• An all-day adventure to the Pacific Science Center on Saturday, all-expenses paid (from Cynthia and Paige)
• A great conversation with my sister on Christmas Eve
• Many lovely cards (some handmade) from friends
  
• A Christmas Day run at the track (courtesy of iPod and my beloved Beyonce)

Labels: consumerism, family life, FOO, holidays

Today I stumbled upon pictures of our foursome from the last two Christmases at the little cottage that we rented in Cannon Beach, Oregon. I grew inexplicably misty thinking of our mini-tradition away from home; the familiarity of the Christmas-lit shops, the beauty of the wind-torn beach, the familiar pub a block down from our home away from home. Our trip back up two years ago where Sophie rode with my parents and they reported she spent half of the ride viciously giving her new stuffed animal (Goodebunny) discipline: hissing "Do you want a timeout?" in the meanest duck voice possible. The fun of the Oregon lack of salestax which allowed our $5 Christmas rules to be observed de rigueur.

For us this year, Christmas is being celebrated in an increasingly unusual fashion; never mind we are not in Oregon, we are also (for the first time in my life) without my FOO. I was sad for half a car ride (as I talked it out with my husband) until I re-oriented myself to my own little family and the projects therein. Now I feel a sense of wonderment as the holiday gently spirals out of my control and out of my plan. The plan to have a series of packages mailed out to closest friends? Derailed. Presents entirely handmade? No. A Christmas dinner complete with guests? Cancelled. I did manage (with minimal help from my spouse) to send out our homemade Christmas cards (every year, after careful selection, addition, and culling, we hover at sixty to seventy cards), our own tradition that we enjoy immensely. About half of the changes in our Christmas routine were due to my illness which put me out of the running for a solid three days (and I'm just glad no one else in my family got sick).

With an absence of Christmas precedents in effect, new activities must be planned. In that vein today ended up being beautiful, but rather exhausting. The first thing I did this morning was a (near-)three mile hike with Erica (I got to see her "new" baby to boot). As soon as I got home my husband took to a full shopping day with a friend and I found myself gifted with my children (who I am growing so familiar with as to not even contemplate alone time much anymore) to run my errands. First, the once-a-week menu planning, shopping list, and grocery (which included a large Christmas Day dinner plan) then the entireity of my family gift shopping downtown in torrential rain - half the time, with one increasingly-heavy child sleeping on my shoulder.

Christmas pajamas have been opened and donned. We have taken the drive to our town's "Candy cane lane" to look at the lights. The stockings are up. One million presents remain to be wrapped and inserted under the tree (actual number will be reported tomorrow). Thank you baby Jesus and happy holidays, one and all!

Labels: family life, FOO, holidays, PNw

I had the strangest dream. I was making a really slutty dance mix CD. And you were there, and you were there, and you were there, and you were there..."

Labels: friends, geekery, music

It is merely a simple fact of life that a mother to two young children gets one sick day. 24 hours then I'm on to the daily grind no matter how well I'm feeling. Hey, headaches can be managed with Tylenol and the occasional dizzy spell (or more than occasional) just makes parenting more fun.

Today kind of fooled me, though. I felt so much better when I woke up that I jumped right into laundry, dishes, toilet cleaning before realizing I had to sit down else I puked. I'm not sure exactly why I felt so badly because there really are a few factors - besides being sick on Sunday this morning constituted over 24 hours now with no booze, caffeine, or cigarettes and only a few ounces of water and a half dinner. Let's just say my body was not receiving its typical dose of poisons / sustenance. Not to mention that the rumors are true we may indeed move from our beloved burg (if my husband lands a certain job), the thought of which puts a little vomit in my mouth. Oh, and did I mention I am no longer napping my children and my husband is having a sort of multifaceted personal life crisis? All this adds up to one beleagured Mama.

Oh the kids? The kids are great. I have a digital camera on loan which improves self-portraits marginally. The three of us today:

Note festive thrift store light decor. And in real life, my hair isn't pasted to my head and Nels isn't usually yelling unintelligibly about a marble. Who am I kidding on both accounts.

Labels: family life, illness, random, worries

** Warning - Graphic! **

Last night it was finally my turn to get sick. I don't mean the head cold or sore throat that is a minor inconvenience but really to effect a cure to these illnesses I need only to sit down and rest during the day, rather than run around cleaning, washing, drying, and kid-wrangling. I mean the kind of sick where the first leg of the journey consists of being entirely occupied with vomiting, the second leg body aches and chills and thrashing about in undefined misery, and finally - this afternoon, when I felt better - the kind of bone fatigue where the act of taking a hot bath wipes you out for a few hours.

I remember when I was pregnant I'd get sick, but really since then I haven't been very much. I'm not much of a puker and no illness lasts me for very long. But last night, moments after my little family went to bed (my daughter dispensing medical advice such as, "Mama, if you're a little bit sick, you should drink some peppermint tea. If you're really sick, you should puke.") I hit a cute little cycle of waking, a 15- to 20-minute nausea buildup, and then an extended puking session. Clean myself up, go back to bed. Repeat, each time feeling weaker and enjoying the taste of bile slightly less.

At about 1 AM I decided I was officially not having fun. One of the suckier parts of my vomiting marathon was that no one in my family knew it was going on, nor could they help. I was dastardly cold all night but so sick I couldn't do anything about it. In bed I pushed, pulled, begged, yelled at Ralph to get up. Finally I crawled out of bed was best I could, hunted for the electric blanket control blindly and finally grabbed a down comforter. All the moving around triggered another bout of vomiting. I longed for release from misery but couldn't fall asleep and couldn't get warm and thus spent a night of suffering. Every time I'd crawl back to bed, incidentally, the entire family including the cat would roll over and clutch at me. Something I enjoy when I'm healthy; last night in my weakened state I could barely fight them off.

This morning I wasn't much better. I sat awake but dizzy on the couch for hours. At 11 AM I was finally able to drink some tea. I have never enjoyed tea so much, even at the rate of a half sip every hour. After a long midday nap aided by Tylenol I could (and did) eat. It seems my body is gradually relinquishing its reign of terror and my hopes are that I can at least function relatively normally tomorrow.

To help me cope with all the ass time, Ralph rented me Season 1 Disc 1 of "House", which I am enjoying (although it's an awful program to watch when you're ill). Hugh Laurie is one of those guys definitivy "not my type" whom I still find damn attractive, and his personality in the show just seals the deal. The show itself is only "decent television" rife with all the trappings of the various runoffs of the ER hospital daytime soap genre: cute doctors in tailored clothes, soft lighting, invasive "tender" piano music letting us know that yes, we're supposed to be misty-eyed watching the hard-as-nails misanthrope MD holding the dead baby long after clinic hours are over.

And - with this blog entry I am once again shot. Here's hoping I'll wake tomorrow with my bodily faculties restored and hopefully a willingness to eat.

Labels: illness, the bod

Grocery Opus, Week 2: The topic of discussion is bread.

In recent years there have been some times in our life where our family eats nearly a loaf a day. This is usually due to the following two factors: 1. a lack of planned snacks or lunches, and 2. a proclivity towards toast for morning breakfasts (my husband's doing mostly).

Knowing this, as I embarked on my once-a-week plan I could not quite bring myself to buy several loaves for the week. A side note: it is comforting knowing that should I choose to do so, I could put loaves in the freezer. Bread doesn't last forever in a freezer, but under a week is perfect. Simply put the loaf in as-is (no additional wrapping), and take it out for an overnight thaw. This includes dinner rolls, hamburger buns - anything at all bread-like. This is also a great idea for appetizers or snack breads (my bruschetta could use a stored loaf, either whole or pre-cut) in case you ask company over for the next day.

The first and second weeks I followed through on the once-a-week plan, I simply bought one loaf of bread. I thought - well, I thought I would run out of this bread and bake more. As it turned out, with the substitution of other items for snacks (veggie sticks and hummous, tuna noodle casserole, biscuits with hard-boiled eggs) we did not in fact eat as much bread. This helps bolster a point: some things we think we need (and therefore buy in quantity), are actually only self-perpetuating habits (this is also my theory as to why bulk-Costco shopping does not in fact save a great deal of money; or at least, that the savings are countermanded by the increased consumptive rate the buying often fosters).

The last couple weeks I have bought one loaf of bread and have only baked two batches of biscuits to supplement. Given we have discovered bread is not a daily need, it makes it all the more likely we will be encouraged to make bread from scratch. And at $3 - $4 a loaf, losing out on a couple loves a week from the grocery bill is a bonus.

Here is Week #2's shopping list:

1 head red leaf lettuce
1 head romaine lettuce
1 lb. fresh green beans
1 bunch celery
1 small head cabbage
5 lbs. clementines
2 lbs. carrots
4 oz. sprouts
2 cucumbers
large jar pickles
tostada shells
1 1/2 lb. pistachios
2 pounds vine tomatoes
2 lbs. boneless skinless chicken breast
2 lbs. extra-lean hamburger meat, all natural
1 can each tomato sauce, petite diced, and tomato paste
2 cans coconut milk
2 cans baby corn
1 can medium olives
2 lbs. angel hair pasta (buy one get one free)
2 lbs. raisins
5 lbs. all-purpose flour
baking powder
salt and pepper shakers
1 lb. frozen peas
2 lbs. oven fries, frozen
1 bag potato chips
1 pound butter
18 eggs
2 lbs. extra sharp cheddar cheese
8 oz. shaved parmesan
1/2 pound swiss cheese
1/2 pound deli ham, all-natural
1 gallon organic milk
1 quart half and half
1 package sourdough hoagies
4 hamburger buns, 100% whole wheat
12 pack Red Hook beer
Glad Press-N-Seal wrap
3 bars coconut castille soap

The total came to $154.

Labels: food, grocery opus, homesteading

This series of 70 pictures made my day today.

Here are some of my favorites.

Labels: hilarity, holidays, random

* Today Nels and I did a 2 1/2 mile walk together (me pumping my ass, him resting on his and all swaddled-up against the elements). It was awesome!

* We are supposed to get a massive windstorm tonight. I have no idea what to do about this besides wait for my power to go out.

* Well of course.

Labels: random

On my way to do bank errands and I forget the van is low on gas. Ridiculous, and I'll tell you why: just to the upper right of the driver's head, there is a cheesy computer readout that keeps you informed on a small selection of driving variables at the touch of a button - including navigational direction headed, outside temperature, gas mileage (average, trip average, and instantaneous), and - yes, miles left on the tank, including the warning, "Lo". In previous vehicles I would get a sputter, I'd look down at my gauge, say, "Shit!" and find a gas station. In this vehicle, my digital readout silently warns me incessantly, yet somehow I miss it; when the vehicle decides it's done, no splutter, no cough - the van DIES and the steering locks up. Inconvenient, no? I have run out of gas once (or less than once) in every vehicle I have owned previously; in my Ass-tro it has happened about a half dozen times. I honestly wonder at the genius of a vehicle that decides when you are out of fuel (mind you, according to the computer, not the actual gas I hear in the tank) it also decides you are not allowed to steer. Sometime someone's going to have to explain the logic to me.

No wait, belay that order. I honestly don't care.

So at the moment my vehicle dies and the steering locks up - WTF! - I grip the wheel and coast over to the shoulder, in front of the old folks' home. A quick sigh of irritation (although I don't care much, really), I grab my kids, pack them in coats, and head the block to the bank where I do my financial errands and phone my husband. He works only a couple blocks away so I ask him if he will fetch us a couple gallons of gas before meeting us for lunch (small-town life is really amazing - everything is within reasonable distance). Even though he'd planned to meet us anyway, I know in his busy schedule he's going to be irritated with this fifteen-minute detour. The kids and I head back to the van, I buckle them in, and we watch as Ralph pulls up to the parking lot across the street, gas can in hand.

"Daddy's mad at Mama," I say to the kids. We watch him get out of the car. He doesn't look mad, but I'm finding this funny.

"Why?" asks my daughter.

"Because I let the van run out of gas and now he has to help us. He's mad. Maybe he'll smack Mama."

I hear the pause in my daughter's thoughts - a mind that usually rattles along at a brisk clip. The possibility of Daddy whacking Mama? A beat, then she says decisively, "No he won't."

Nels: "In the face."

I turn and look. He is smiling.

Labels: family life, hilarity, Nels

I am feeling duty-bound to report occasionally following up my grocery opus from the other day (thanks to those four people who actually trudged their way through that one, by the way!). So far we are well-fed, our fridge is tidy, and I have bought nothing - not even a cup of coffee or one roll - from a store since Sunday.

I am devoting less time mentally (and yes, emotionally), physically, and financially to food, without sacrificing the quality of what we eat. Yet, I have to reorient myself in small ways. Today in my two-hour break between being home from playschool and leaving on a trip with a friend, I had to cook a lunch (broccoli from Sunday night's dinner with homemade ceasar dressing, hardboiled egg, and cheese cubes), then rinse and soak beans for tonight. I also made up fresh biscuits, slathered mustard and stuffed with corned beef, and prepared carrot sticks (for Sophie and I on our trip). These food errands while juggling kids, doing dishes, washing and folding laundry, helping my children clean their room, serving lunch, cleaning up after lunch and putting my son to bed, and assimilating freshly-washed hand-me-downs into their closets while winnowing out the grow-out for other families. I ain't saying it wasn't fun; it was. But the food preparation and cleanup this entailed when I normally would have grabbed a sandwich from a deli (and while I was there, bought a Vietnamese coffee. and some spicy pepperoni. and...) required an adjustment.

There have been only a few hiccups in our meal plan. Tonight my husband does not succeed in cooking the beans for dinner long enough (I had left instructions but somehow he didn't get it) so at 7 PM they still needed another hour and we were already late for dinnertime (read: kids were gnawing on the table legs and, occaisonally, each other). Normally we have canned refried beans so to graduate to dried-and-soaked ones is still new. However! I had one large can in the pantry (as he pointed out) so those were heated while the whole ones were cooked and preserved in the freezer for a dinner next week.

Tomorrow we have enough dinner to invite a friend; I do. She's bringing fresh, delicious beer from our favorite brewery. For now: a cuddle with my daughter and Season 2 Disc 2 of NBC's "The Office".

Labels: food, geekery, grocery opus, homesteading

My son's imagination bears mentioning here. I suddenly noticed this morning that unlike Sophie's typically external mechanisms of inspiration, Nels seems to keep a mental landscape all his own. Examples: yesterday, in a lovely mid-morning bath for the two of us. He insists I draw pictures with my fingers, in the condensation on the side of the bathtub. "Draw a triangle," he asks, and I trace a shape in a barely-visible dilineation on the off-white wall. He instructs "circle", "square", and "Christmas tree with a star", seeming to have great satisfaction in shapes I cannot see; he knows they are there and that's enough. I get out of the tub to dry off and he's still discussing the matter with his phantom geometrical friends.

This morning; I stand him on the table and brush his hair before playschool. I give him the brush so he can return the favor. He starts brushing my hair and (mysteriously) with each stroke naming a different part of my body. At first the anatomical references are at least on my head - "eyes", "eyebrow", "ear... other ear". Then soon he is discussing my elbows, shins, knees... all, with each word, indicated by a stroke of the brush in a precise location. This is the moment it hits that my son inhabits some sort of weird Nelsland. I immediately feel a rush of warmth at recognizing my son in this; I also feel a sense as to how to connect with him more.

His inner world also explains why he can often be quite "head in the clouds"; he will be on the phone pretending a conversation; I tell him dinner is ready (his favorite thing) and he still has a look of faraway pretend. Those who know my son know he is very social - he makes lots of eye contact and engages child and adult alike. But it seems that even when he's by himself he finds good company.

Labels: Nels

I'm going to warn you - this will be a long, laborious, boring entry to many. The truth is, though, a few people write me every week or two to praise my efforts and chronicles of being a housewife and to appreciate my writing. Some of them, yes, are even impressed with my career advances in housewifery! (these are the ones that don't live near me where they can see the broken dryer in my driveway, the holes in my socks, and the state of my lawn!)

So anyway. I am responsible for (at least) four people's every piece of nutritional intake, three meals a day plus desserts, snacks, and beverages. Every day, 7 days a week (minus a few of my husband's would-be clandestine hot dogs at, yes, the Safeway gas station! Jesus.). It took me a while to figure out how phenomenal this responsibility is; but now I truly get it. This week I am offering up both my philosophy and a few practical approaches to feeding a family good food.

As a rule, I try to eschew the more typical views: that food is something incidental, something we deserve convenience with, and something that should only consume a miniscule amount of our financial resources (look it up: in most other parts of the world 70% is a more realistic figure). Neither do I believe food should be the obsessive enterprise in our life or that orgiastic pleasure should be achieved each dinner. I believe there is an art and a science to feeding a family in the way that works best for the family. I am seeking out methods that are economical and embrace both my talents and my personal values - nutritional, social, environmental, and ethical.

My personal pitfalls are not lack of skill nor tiring of the job. I love cooking from scratch and can't remember the last time I opened up a can of soup nor bought ready-made frosting. My struggles usually deal with thinking too much on food and making my day in large part about mulling over recipes, securing the groceries, and making the time to cook. What I'd prefer is to feed the family well, to spend money on products we believe in without using the purchase as a "shopping spree", and to spend less time thinking about food (what to make, when to make it, how much is left, etc).

A couple years ago I attempted to buy groceries for the week. I fell prey to two common problems with this approach. The first is this: if you don't follow your plan to the letter, you often end with extra food (in raw form or leftovers), food you ultimately end up throwing out. The second potential difficulty is if you schedule meals you aren't that excited about cooking or eating, you will not enjoy the experience and you will start to - you got it, think about food some more. Two other potential negative aspects of this approach to note: it elminates meal spontanaety to some extent, and the other partner, if you have one, may have difficulty stepping in and making the meal(s) you'd planned.

However, in the last couple years since I last tried weekly buying, I have learned a few tricks. So the last week and this I felt emboldened to try the method again.* Here is how I went about it.

First, a few days ago I re-organized my pantry. This experience was actually pleasant for me as I discovered I really used most of the food in my house - there were no cans of this-or-that, no stale spices, no random baking ingredients, no processed pasta helpers or pudding mixes (incidentally, the intimate knowledge of and use of my own pantry is one of the tricks I learned over the last two years). It took me about thirty minutes to get my pantry, refrigerator, and freezer in good order; mostly, it was in good order because I use it a lot and have been slowly weaning myself from unneccesary items.

So now I knew what I had in my house. I knew exactly what kind of dried beans I had, how many cans of tomato sauce, and what the status was on the baking powder. I had an organized and uncluttered fridge and freezer (the freezer becomes important, as you will see). From there, it was very easy to come up with a week menu - considering first any perishable groceries needing to be consumed (in my case, four pounds of corned beef from a favorite market, a bag of baby spinach, an opened can of coconut milk), thinking on the pantry items (the cashews would make a good match with a savory Asian dish; my mom's home-canned tuna should be considered), and consolidating ingredients for the week into more than one meal (for instance, my favorite red sauce recipe makes up enough for two dinners). I made a simple grid of six days and wrote out the dinner plan (no fine details).

Now, at this point I had to think of breakfasts, lunches, snacks, and beverages (by this I mean alcoholic, and we limit ourselves to beer and wine). My goal is not to eat out or shop again until Saturday, when my husband and I have our date. In any case with this method you want to have some snack ideas so you don't fall prey to ordering a pizza at 2:30 in the afternoon when your energy is shot and everyone's crabby and dinner is a few hours away (or is this just me that does this?). Thinking of all this extra food in addition to dinners sounds terrifying but it's really not. If you eat large family dinners, you probably eat leftovers the next day and mostly snack for lunch and have easy breakfasts. As long as you keep some staples in your house, you only need to think of fresh snack ideas you may enjoy over the week - items like fruit, lunch meat, maybe soup ingredients. List these breakfast, lunch, and snack ideas - the ones both in your pantry (for instance, cornbread or oatmeal cookies) and the ones you plan to buy - in another column next to your week's dinners. Add any appropriate items to your shopping list.

Finally, you should think on any household sundries you may want to buy from your store - toothpaste, laundry soap, light bulbs, etc. Add these to your shopping list.

Now you have a menu and a shopping list (you can take both to the store). Here is my week's menu:



Now, I am familiar enough with shopping that I write the list in the order the ingredients are laid out in the store. After I have the list, the family loads up for our shopping trip. Making the menu, the list, and buying the groceries took about one hour. Here was what we bought:

1 head red leaf lettuce
2 lbs. carrots
8 jalapenos
1 spaghetti squash
2 shittake mushrooms
4 granny smith apples
1 bunch celery
1 can tomato sauce
1 can petite dice tomatoes
1 can tomato paste
2 cans green beans
1 package spring roll wraps
1 lb. organic tofu, firm
1 package rotille pasta
1 large canister oatmeal
four-pack Guinness
4 Port Townsend Brewery beers
1 lb. coffee from Sunrise Coffee (local)
Large sour cream
2 lbs. butter
2 gallons milk
2 lbs. extra sharp cheese
1 jar peanut butter (no added ingredients)
1 package frozen steak fries
1 lb. ground pork (all natural)
1 lb. leanest ground beef (all natural)
1 loaf bread (whole wheat)
4 hamburger buns (100% whole wheat)
seasoning salt
tinfoil (100 ft reynold's wrap)
12 roll toilet paper
package of 2 pastry brushes

The total was $127.

When I got home and before I put groceries away, I cleaned the fridge of anything from last week that wouldn't be used. This only turned out to be about 1/2 cup of taco meat, two servings of peanut sauce, and some leftover hot cereal. Anything still edible (say, last night's dinner) was already parsed into leftover servings and on the top shelf where my husband can retrieve it (by the way; he is instructed to take the leftovers to work and, if he doesn't eat them, to dispose of them and bring back clean dishes. I don't care if he eats them or not, although he usually does - I just don't want to be stacking up leftovers all week long.) The groceries are then put away.

The freezer deserves a tangential mention here. My freezer is 40% full of whole grains and flours. Besides these items and ice cubes, I freeze in very small spurts of time - a few days for meat, a few days for bread. So the pork and hamburger I bought today will spend a couple days in the freezer and be taken out the day before I cook them. This is mostly psychological so I'm not seeing red meat in the fridge for a few days and worrying about it. We make bread in our home, but it is good to have some in the freezer if you anticipate running out and don't want to do another store run (where you are guaranteed to come home $30 short for "just a loaf of bread"). I also buy butter when it's on sale to freeze (we are a no-margarine zone) and I freeze items like homemade frosting that are often put up in large batches. It takes time to know what freezes well (and by "well" I mean effortlessly, with no double-wrapping bullshit). I am not a big Freezer Fanatic but I have learned to use it and keep on top of it.

Back to this week. These groceries and this amount of money (along with what I have in my pantry) will keep my husband in lunches at his work (mostly leftovers, as is his preference) and supply lunch, breakfast, and homemade non-processed foods for our week, as well as our liquor bill in its entirity. It also will (hopefully) afford me a significant less amount of time in THINKING and PLANNING food (because I did this today). All in all, I spent 1 1/2 - 2 focussed hours on this project and I won't have to shop again this week.

That's as clear as I feel like making it. If you should decide to try some of these ideas, here are a few more tips:

1. Make one of your primary goals to KNOW what food you have in your home and how much of it you have. Maybe this seems daunting; it used to be to me. Grab the courage to throw out things you don't use, or use them up and don't buy them again until you plan on using them. I also posit this sort of mental inventory is much easier for someone who is primarily a homemaker and not an earner. If you are tracking a full workday or share cooking and buying duties you will have to be more creative in making this happen.

2. Make your secondary goals to A. NOT throw out food, and B. Enjoy the food you eat. This also is tricky; often people going for the weekly shopping will at first try to be economical. A small grocery bill doesn't make up for three days of whats-it "healthy" casseroles or many reheats of the same soup (individual family preferences vary here).

3. Consider shopping at one grocery store, if there is one you like to support (even if prices aren't rock-bottom - remember, your time is worth something, not to mention your petrol!). Multiple trips to different stores mean you will likely tire of the exercise and increase the likelihood you will make impulsive buys.

4. On your weekly grocery trip, stick to the list. Even if you see lovely seasonal tupperware or a yummy tea - do NOT buy it. Tell yourself that if you really want this thing you will put it on the next list (next week). A little longing never hurt anyone - and impulsive shopping adds up.

5. Caveat to rule #4 - you can deviate a bit from your list (celery was on sale today). A bit. Now, PUT THE ITEM YOU BOUGHT ON YOUR LIST. Take it home and make mental (or written) inventory. You should have only bought one or two "extra" things.

6. Post a similar menu as the one above up on your fridge. This will release you from thinking about what to cook, it will remind you of what ingredients you have (esp. the perishable items), and enable others to help you cook if you feel burnout during your week.

7. Streamline what's in your kitchen by learning to cook from scratch. Keep condiments down. A fridge full of condiments that don't get used creates a cluttered fridge that you won't really enjoy looking in. Just like your pantry and freezer, know and use what's in the fridge.

And finally, a few evaluation tools at the end of the week:

1. How much did you enjoy what you ate?

2. Did you throw any food out?

3. What did you do with the time you would have spent at the grocery store or thinking of what to eat? Did you find yourself thinking of the meal plan or could you release that concern?

4. How much did you spend? What did this compare to previous weeks?

5. How happy were you with the leftovers? Were those eaten happily or did you make too much? Not enough?

6. What did your family think of your meals? Did your partner (if you have one) step in and help?

Finally - I encourage you to gauge your success not by what your grocery bill is per week. Grocery bills are useless to compare because each family has different members, different values in terms of food quality (local and fresh or not; organic or non; vegetarian or non, etc). However, this method will enable you to KNOW more about what you spend since you will have one ticket per week.

Good luck and let me know how it goes!

* I chose a weekly frequency but you could buy for two weeks or more. I like the relative spontaneity a week plan affords me and I also don't want to look at a packed fridge at the beginning of the food term. This method keeps my fridge rather svelte.

Labels: food, grocery opus, homesteading

I have decided we either need to, Plan A, have one more blond and perfect baby - then sell it. Or, Plan B (because I think Plan A is illegal and I know it's problematic due to my husband's lack of fertility), find a way to downsize our life. And by "downsize our life" I mean get rid of a vehicle (my husband's job requires him to travel so we probably will keep one for now), move into something smaller and out of town (perhaps the family vehicle!), this more modest abode maybe even requiring us to crap in a bucket and collect rainwater (Thanks K and T for your great ideas the other night!), and live like hippie scum.

My reasons are too myriad and tiresome (to me at least) to list here, and are not entirely financial. Although I wonder what it is about us Hogabooms that we can neither spend and live "within our means" like so many virtuous folk seem to do (or at least, like I'm led to believe they do), nor accept a high level of credit card debt like so many less virtuous (but arguably more typical) folk seem to do.

I can do it, though. I can do anything. If I can squat on the floor of my home and push out a baby, if I can convert my toddler and new baby to cloth diapers and be soaked in piss for two weeks as I figure it all out, if I can stop feeling sad I have crappy secondhand clothes and stinky four-year-old dyke martens, if I can accept the transition of working professional engineer to Houswife Nobody, if I can live with going from two incomes and no kids to two kids and one income, than I can surely go through all my stuff, cry real tears to let it go, and move into some goddamn shack. Can I live without a daily shower, without clean laundry, and without, dear God, without my Mac? I don't really see how. But perhaps it is my fate.

I don't know how to do it. I only know I (we) can. Except for thinking of living without my Mac. Anyway, I am this close to outfitting our van as a half-assed camper and parking somewhere.

Tonight my husband and I were gifted with tickets (ala his workplace) for "Dinner and A Murder" - the first annual - a $50 per plate benefit that, yes, involved a murder play "whodunit". Which I'm proud to say I cracked the code for and came up with half the theory, and was only led astray because a member of the cast fucked up and LIED to our sleuthing group, but that's another story. Unfortunately - in front of respected members of my husband's employer, I said something about Ralph's butt looking good in his pants - please understand I had not a drop of alcohol - and although I got some shocked looks, then uproarious laughter, and although I apologized for my random sexual harassment, I couldn't help feeling like the girl I was several years ago had channelled herself through me but at least my tablemates seemed to like her.

Labels: burnout, family life, hilarity, i'm a hater, party animal

This morning I took the kids out to their favorite park, as requested. It felt like it had been quite some time since I'd had fresh air. Perhaps because we had been snow-bound for a while, or perhaps because my children and I have moved into a different phase in our life together, the three of us had a very harmonious hour and a half on the park grounds (read: they let me go to the bathroom without drowning themselves in the sea; Nels did not run away in the opposite direction of Sophie *every single chance he got*, I actually listened to and followed the suggestions of my wee ones instead of barking out orders while clutching my precious, precious coffee). I attended them in the childish activities that to many must look boring: swings, monkey-bar spotting (my son copies everything his older sister does, no matter how terrifying to himself or me), leaf-scuffing, creek bed exploring. Instead of fervently hoping for another Mama to join me, or allowing my mind to race about thinking of chores I have to do, beans to soak, toilets to scrub, I just accepted I was not doing any of those things *now* and I really attended my little ones. I sat, swung, walked with them. We ate lovely, heavenly fresh hearth rolls from the uptown bakery and they took my breath away with the beauty that bloomed on their rosy cheeks and noses.

I find myself begrudging how quickly my children are growing up. Why do I ever want any stage, any difficulty, to end? I should desire and hold onto everything, and I mean everything. The late nights, the crying, the clinging at naptime. A year ago I was breastfeeding my son and could still remember, vividly, breastfeeding and diapering my daughter. Now I am adrift, afloat, no longer a physical necessity except in my performance of slave labor (daily) that I now have learned to love. Now. My children are both potty-trained, both weaned, and I am ten pounds heavier in part because every day I think of, shop, buy, and prepare their food. And I make no milk. No nursing; I realized the other day with a small, angry mix of pride and sadness that *just anyone* could take care of my children now (although, of course, no one else really does). I suppose this was true from the day they were born, but my unique gifts of my milk, my love, my voice, my intelligence, my body, and the pain in the ass of a diapered child somehow kept them more within my exclusive realm. Now I know they are growing upward and onward, and although they will always remained tethered to me and I have formed a Goddess-image for them - they will need me less and less. It is time for them to take flight a little more and for me to pull back into myself, my art, my work, my marriage - just enough to not resent their going.

As I type this my children, back from a fancy-festive Christmas party, are putting together their new Christmas gifts (note that Nels' comes with a key-fob so you can take your precious pets with you - "up to 18 hours" and I don't have to tell you what happens after 18 hours). With dad's help, of course.

Labels: family life, holidays, party animal, tenderness

My family and I just got back from visiting a friend's new (and completely adorable) pad - incidentally only a couple blocks away, which is great news for my social life. At this point after mounting incidents it's time for me to publically admit I am finding myself envious of my single Mama friends. They party, they hang out, they drink, they smoke, they buy new clothes and furniture, they cavort with boys (seriously, dating, or entirely platonically) with no repurcussions, and they GET RID OF THEIR KIDS FOR HOURS, DAYS, WEEKS AT A TIME while seemingly enjoying their grownup time entirely. And as far as I can tell they are just as happy and fufilled as I am in most every way.

There, I said it. May Sweet Jesus not strike my ass for admitting it. P.S. Please don't divorce your harpy queen. My sweet, sweet manboy husband.

Actually, what this is really telling me is that it's time to pack my kids' shit up in two suitcases and drop them off at the logical halfway point - not quite halfway, but what the heck - for my parents to come pick them up. One week sounds about right. Then I myself can cavort, hang out with, smoke, drink, shop, whatever - and cavort with my own boy of choice who happens to share my house and bed.

Labels: family life, girl life, Ralph

Well, I am feeling wretched today - it seems December, in two days, has already brought a share of disappointments. So I was oddly cheered when I discovered about five minutes ago that I have actually recieved something like *four comments* on my sewing blog (I'm not really sure how anyone finds it either - I lost my links at this oft-visited page and have been too lazy to put them up). Right now I have no camera (except my assy iSight on the Mac - a camera that always includes my rather messy and grungy laundry room background) so my sewing and knitting efforts (re-conn'd pants! left-handed knitting!) have gone undocumented.

But sadly, at this moment the more depressing circumstances in my life are overcoming the good. My parents won't be around for Christmas while my remaining immediate family member - my brother (viewed here with hospital bracelet regarding an episodic severe intestinal illness) told me he'd rather have Christmas by himself, my husband doesn't seem to care how much I am sad about not being with my FOO. Two friends have gone AWOL while I worry about their personal circumstances, one friend broke up with me, my older child is ill, and my younger child is growing out of his clothes too fast. And last but not least, Blogger Beta is acting like a gay and our bank account will be hitting bottom on Monday with four days left until payday.

Wow, it actually did not make me feel better to write that all out. Anyone interested in keeping me from throwing myself in front of a fast-moving train, feel free to send me a cheer-up email. Or barring that, a train schedule.

Today while the children napped (like canaries, their sleep-response seems proportionate to daylight) my husband and I wandered around the house, bored, ineffectual, too lazy to jump into our typical uber-housecleaning weekend frenzies. I was too cold and he was too warm (as usual) and we had carefully not over-scheduled our weekend - so now we had nothing to do. This afternoon while I cut out a pair of flannel pajamas he ventured into the attic to pull a cheesy-ass tinsel tree (via Freecycle) and thrift store lights out of the attic. Our now-garish living room awaits the awakening of the oldest child (yes, she is STILL napping, at almost 7 PM!) who will doubtless be thrilled at our impressively "festive" living room. Now that my knitting is caught up I am currently searching for an *easy* sock pattern for Sophie and feeling overwhelmed at the idea of assembling Christmas presents together this year.

Looks like it's lumps of coal for many of you.

Labels: birlo, FOO, friends, holidays, Ralph, worries