Thursday, April 30, 2009

swine flu




I know. It's so funny I almost fell off of my chair.

Also, that's not my kid.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

The Lamb Farm


Mom's Club went to the Lamb Farm. The kids got to feed baby lambs. Zoe was beside her self with joy. It was delightful. What was most delightful (for me), was the part where the owner of the lamb farm opened up her freezer and I bought ground lamb and lamb chops and lamb steaks.....oh my. More to come on that later. I'm thinking Lamb Sliders on Sourdough buns drizzled in a mint rosemary sauce with a side of spicy radish and beet slaw over roasted asparagus. Yes. I was thinking that when this picture was taken. I'm a carnivore.
The meat (and lovely lamb feeding kid delighting farm experience) came to us courtesy of Pavelka's Point, Inc. Lois Pavelka was our hostess. Their meat can be found at most local farmers markets around here.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Easter

All the little girls in pretty little dresses with their hair curled and their tiny white shoes sitting in a row in the church pew singing along with the choir.


And then I woke up.


Or rather, I didn't. Apparently, I slept through the alarm and so did every other breathing being in my home on Easter Sunday morning.


Zoe is usually the first one awake. I had to really work at getting her out of bed. She had a creased face and one red cheek, chapped lips, and a scowl on her face. We were dressed and out the door in under an hour, but Zoe never really woke up. We went to the early church service so we could get out of town for the annual traditional Easter Egg Hunt at Mom and Dad's house. As far as Tori is concerned, the Annual Easter Egg Hunt is not optional.


Zoe crawled onto Highlander's lap about five minutes into the church service, curled up, and fell asleep. It's not very Zoe-like to sleep through anything. But it was pretty cute. After church, we had pancakes, which was very exciting for the girls. We have pancakes most weekends (even when I have to send Highlander to the store four times on a Saturday morning) but for some reason, pancakes at church was really something to look forward to. So we ate pancakes. Or rather, they ate pancakes. I got up to get juice. I got up to get napkins. I got up to scoot forward when a large man tried to squeeze between me and the woman behind me. And then, I got up to catch the half chewed pancakes and somewhat digested orange juice that Zoe spewed across the table. She wasn't sick. She was just really excited about the pancakes. Nothing like puked up syrup and juice stuck in the delicate fabric and ribbon flowers of an Easter dress to make mom wonder if she's on candid camera. 

But we lived.

We went to the Annual Easter Egg Hunt at Grandma and Grandpa's and had a lovely day. The puke washed out. 

I think winter might be over and my peas are poking out of the ground. No worries.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

my new favorite joke




Three women: one engaged, one married and one a mistress, are
chatting about their relationships and decided to amaze their men. That
night all three will wear black leather bras, stiletto heels and a mask
over their eyes. After a few days they meet up for lunch.

The engaged woman: The other night when my fiance came over he found
me with a black leather bodice, tall stilettos and a mask. He saw me and
said, 'You are the woman of my life. I love you.' Then we made love all
night long.

The mistress: Me too! The other night I met my lover at his office
and I was wearing the leather bodice, heels, mask over my eyes and a
raincoat. When I opened the raincoat he didn't say a word, but we had wild
sex all night.

The married woman: I sent the kids to stay at my mother's house for
the night. When my husband came home I was wearing the leather bodice,
black stockings, stilettos and a mask over my eyes. As soon as he came in
the door and saw me he said, 'What's for dinner, Batman?

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

meatballs

See, we always get back to food.

There are meatballs resting in a bubbling sauce of Iowa tomatoes on my stove right now. Here's a non-specific recipe for making rocking good meatballs.

Mix together (use your hands):
One pound really good, sweet, pork sausage
One pound lean ground beef
about two cups of seasoned Italian bread crumbs
two eggs from happy chickens
one chopped sauteed white onion
7 cloves of minced garlic

Form a bunch of 1.5 inch meatballs (with your hands) and line them up neatly in a single layer in a casserole dish. Put the lid on the dish and bake in a 350 degree oven for 45 minutes or so.

Let them cool and then freeze them on a cookie tray, uncovered, for about two hours. Once they are solid, remove them and put them in a big Ziploc baggie.

To reheat, drop frozen meatballs in simmering sauce and cook for 40 minutes or all day. All day makes your house smell good.

I love meatballs. I make no apology. I wasn't ever a very good vegan, anyway.

Friday, April 3, 2009

sleepless on the southeast side

There is a lot going on in the world and it has me all tied up in knots. To top it off, there are various, ah-hem....large male persons on small bicycles cruising around my neighborhood between 11am and 2pm. They cruise slowly, pants drooping down their backsides far enough that I can see where their girlfriends shop (KMart...Joe Boxer) and it's all very unsettling to me. See, our neighborhood is quiet. You don't drive down our street going from point A to point B. Unless those points are two tiny city parks and you have five kids and a picnic lunch with you. I've started locking the doors during the day. 

So anyway, there are these guys. I've seen four of them so far. They ride slowly, front wheel leaning right then left then right then left. Like a twenty three year old, unemployed man goes for a freaking joy ride on his little brother's bike at 11am on a Tuesday. By himself. 

The Mom in me wants to march up to him and ask questions. "What are you looking for?" and "Why are you here?" and "Are you LOST?" and "Would you like to meet my very large, territorial, moody dog?" What am I going to do? I could call the police. But what would I say; "Hi. I'm a Mom and I live on the really nice side of the south east side of Cedar Rapids and I have a bad feeling. I wake up at 3am and I can't get back to sleep. I feel nervous. And there are strange men wearing ill-fitting pants riding small bicycles around my neighborhood in 32 degree weather. Could you come over and arrest them, please? What? Oh, OK then. I'll call you after we are robbed and shot. No Problem." 

I think the best thing to do would be to start greeting them when I see them. I could look them in the eye, wave, smile just a tiny bit, and look as if I am memorizing their faces. I could take their pictures. I could take notes. Oh. I think I will do all of the above. And then I will post the photos on my blog. 

In the not very good movie, "I Think I Love My Wife" the not very talented actor, Chris Rock, has a line where he's waxing poetic about women in the city. I'll paraphrase, "You know why I love the city? Because you can look at the women. In the suburbs, if you look at a soccer mom, she'll put your name on the Internet." So there it is. 

I may still wake up at 3am, but at least I'll have something to do while I fidget. 

Coming soon: Photos of the Men in ill-fitting Pants on small bicycles.