Candy Making

I made a batch of homemade Halloween candies this evening with N. They were supposed to be spiders but the eight legs wouldn't fit properly. Six was the maximum number of legs that would fit. 

The entymological inaccuracy of calling these things 'spiders' when clearly, CLEARLY they couldn't possibly be spiders really bothered me. I lost track of how steadily I belabored the point until my daughter (with smudged chocolate cheeks) sighed, rolled her eyes and said "Mom, fine...OK, just fine. They're ants. Not spiders. ANTS. OK?" 

While it wasn't the height of polite preteen behavior her simple solution did, in fact, make me feel better.


Except that the ant bodies aren't segmented. I'm just sayin'.

I love this! -Rilke

From streetartnews

Pleasant Company

 

There's a certain type of friend that will accept an invitation to brunch on Sunday. She'll bring her girls, we'll brew a pot of hot coffee. And nobody seems offended in the least that I would remain in my flannel pajamas the whole time. 

Exceeding Expectations

This was the first year that I took up the vegetable side of the garden. I planted everyone's cast offs. My mom had one too many pepper plants, the neighbor had a butternut squash with nowhere to go...garlic, broccoli all acquired the same way and tomatoes. Oh, it was a crazy, good year for tomatoes. My backyard was hot, humid and tomato-lucious all summer long.

I had so many tomatoes I couldn't eat all of them. I tried to offload a batch to the delivery guy from my favorite Chinese restaurant. He was polite about it but had to say no. Against company policy. So I stuck the whole lot of them into my slow-cooker over a late summer weekend. Boiled them down with oregano and garlic in an attempt to make marinara sauce. Jarred up the sauce and froze it in the deep freeze until our house had a hankering for lasagna last night. 

We boiled up noodles, thawed out the marinara, grated some cheese, stuck everything into the oven and gave it a go. Cooking is like that for me. Slap a whole bunch of stuff together, set it in the oven, and spend about thirty minutes just living on hope. The hope this particular collection of ingredients will turn out OK.

This one? This lasagna? OK, wow. I'm a lasagna lover but the homemade sauce kicked it up a notch or two. Dinner exceeded expectations.    

Lived Between Us

I fell asleep remembering a time that I treated someone terribly. Just terribly. I was young. I'm sure I was hurt and thought my behavior was just a retaliation not an offensive act. And I remembered the hurt that lived between us for a long time. 

Last night I fell into a sad sort of sleeping. 

I woke up with a stomach ache wondering why it is that when we're vulnerable we're also the most likely to inflict pain? What is it about the height of emotions that inspires a person, inspired me, to inflict such cruelty? Why is it that mellowing out or growing into a more stable person also means I have fewer barbed edges? That once I'm less easily hurt, I'm also less likely to hurt someone else. I grow better buffered and I grow more careful with everyone else at the same time. 

I fell asleep last night thinking about the sharper edges I used to have. The scars that must have marked the places I had been. Sometimes I'll wake up and fling up an apology to the sky over some moment I wish I could have to do over again. Some moment I could have been kinder, some moment in which I might have been less hot tempered. And I'll just hope the words, or at least the sentiment, lands with the intended person. 

Morning Trail Run

Amherst, MA (3miles)

Peppered

I made use of the dry, warm weather today by planting thirty crocus bulbs. I looked then at the bare ground and tried to imagine it peppered in yellow and purple petals next spring.

Morning

We were up early this morning. N had some homework. I made some hot-apple-oatmeal for breakfast. 

We had a pleasant moment by the front door as she zipped up her backpack and we both said to have a good day. She bubbled outside, and sort of skipped, sort of ran, down the front steps. 

I can’t say why I stayed there, in my flannel pajamas, watching her through the glass pane of the closed door. But I did. She crossed the busy street. And then swept her arms in a series of wide arcs. She was blowing kisses into the morning air. 

Not because she saw me standing there but just because life was too sweet to do anything else. 

Juno

From NASA Photo Files

The Juno spacecraft was due to slingshot around the Earth today on its trip to Jupiter. Juno is, evidently, the first solar powered space probe.

Wanting to learn more, I went to the NASA mainpage for the mission. The Juno page fell victim to the current Federal Government shut down. 

My mouth commenced an involuntary diatribe of political exasperation. 

Springs Eternal

What I Brought To The Court Tonight

Blowing Around

Spent the day in pleasant company. The cold weather blowing around outside. The sort of day that makes for long, involved conversations. The sort of day where my voice, my brain feel a little exhausted by the end of it. I climb into bed wondering when we can get together again? Hoping the answer is 'soon'.

Weekend Report

Ribbon Cutting Ceremonies Attended: 1
Benefit Concerts I Wanted to, But Didn't Attend: 1 
Miles traveled by bike: 8
Miles traveled by foot: 8
Floors Scrubbed: 2
Chapters Read of This Book: 5
Soup Club Attendees: 3
Birthday Parties: 1 (shared between two people)
Used Book Scores: 1
Suggested travel itineraries that pinged in my inbox: 2 
Times I felt grateful for this moment in my life: 27+ 

Reel Power

The Real Deal

I have started using a new face cream. My face washed, my teeth brushed, I smooth on the moisturizer each night before crawling into bed. The cream is derived from coconut oil. Not the imitation smell of coconut, the real deal, the stuff that makes your pillow smell like some tropical destination both rich and far away. 

______________________
Recently Pleased to Find Out: Ikea plans to sell solar panels, and also there is water on Mars.
Personal Soundtrack: When You Get to Ashville by Steve Martin & Edie Brickell 
Reading with N: Searching for Wondla by Toni DiTerlizzi
Anxiously Awaiting: My Canoe Trip in Fontenelle Forest