Not Inadequate

Last night my poor daughter woke up again in the middle of the night with a bad dream. This one was about spider webs. I got out the bought-for-this-exact-occasion sleeping bag, and put her in her brother’s room on the floor. Big never noticed a thing. 

Until. 

Until about an hour later, when he came careening into our room saying a spider had crawled on his arm. After looking for the spider and trying to reassure BOTH kids, we got out sleeping bag #2 and put him on the floor beside his sister. 

But even at 3 in the morning, the siren song of sleepover fun could not be ignored and after listening to a half hour of giggling and thumping, we had to separate them. Big went back into his bed, and Little dragged her sleeping bag into our room and laid down on the floor beside me. For an eternity, I hung my arm over the side and stroked her hair, hoping she would just GO TO SLEEP ALREADY. 

Today, I spent an hour cuddling and talking to her about bad dreams and reassuring her that there were no spiders or webs in her room. 

And then. 

And then she went to get a drink of water and promptly burst into tears that there were spiders in the kitchen. 

I may have rolled my eyes at this point. Or even said, exasperated, “no there AREN’T! Just get your drink and come out of there” 

But she fussed and whimpered and pointed until I finally went to look. 

Sure enough – a tiny spider, hanging from a tiny web. Right at her eye level - right over her cup. 

Holy CRAP, Universe! Quit messing with me!

So I have eighteen thousand plums to do something with. Someone suggested canning, but I am scared of canning, because you know, botulism and everything. Then I remembered reading that Angie at Many Little Blessings made freezer jam a while back. I can do that – I KNOW how to freeze stuff. The goal - turn these plums into delicious, non-poisonous jam.

I went online and found a bunch of recipes, then Big and I headed to WalMart. Oy, the WalMart. They have finished re-arranging it (finally), but everything is in an entirely different place and it takes me twice as long to shop. They actually issued me a MAP inside the front door.

I found the canning aisle and figured out what I needed for freezer jam.

But then.

I saw this pickling-powder-spice-mix stuff for making pickles. And then I saw this little beginner set of canning supplies. And a cookbook about how to can food without killing anyone.

Sixty dollars later, I finally escaped the vortex, but I fear it’s too late. I can feel the tug of canning. With any luck, the pickles will turn out to be awful and I can continue on without stupidly volunteering to add another job to my Mommy Resumé.

In fact, I don’t really like nature at all. The feeling must be mutual, because everytime I step foot outside, veritable LEGIONS of bugs descend on me to suck my blood and buzz in my ears while the sun glares at me and gives me a blinding headache. In general, the whole Outdoors thing is entirely over-rated.

So when the kids and my husband decided to have a garden this year, I didn’t really realize that it would mean dirt-encrusted offerings would appear on the kitchen counter every so often.

In fact, I actually had the poor judgement to encourage this garden idea, because like a sucker idiot good home school mom, I cannot bring myself to turn down anything educational. For some stupid reason, I actually thought this could be one of those projects where I didn’t have to do anything, since the other adult that lives here could handle the whole thing while I relaxed in air-conditioned peace and quiet.

Stop laughing.

I mean it.

In addition to the very small garden, all of our trees are bearing fruit. We have lived in this house for three years, and this tree has never done anything worth noting. But all of a sudden, we have this:

And this:

And this:

Plums. Thousands and thousands of wild red plums.

Jim picked a bunch and left them on the counter, saying, “hey, we should do something with these.”

I don’t know who these “we” people are, but the rest of those bitches aren’t pulling their weight.

So we’ve probably all heard tell of that Valedictorian speech that is racing around the internets. You know – the one where the Valedictorian wonders if compulsory education provided her with anything other than the ability to regurgitate information? I thought it might be an urban legend or something. But no, an 18 year old girl really gave this speech. And if I could figure out how to embed a freaking video in WordPress, I’d put it here.

Unfortunately, I am inept. And yes, I followed the instructions on youTube. I remain, as always, stymied by technology.

I can however, manage a link, so here it is: Kick-Ass Speech

Here’s a link to more interesting commentary from SmrtMama. She writes about some Behavior Rules a friend’s third grader brought home – one of which details exactly how to clap properly.

Seriously?

We must control the thoughts and actions of an EIGHT YEAR OLD to the point of giving them instructions on HOW TO APPLAUD? I have no words. Well, maybe profanity. Mixed with a lot of sadness. Why don’t we see what we are doing to our babies with this nonsense? Our sweet, precious, energetic, babies? Honestly, I don’t feel that it’s an exaggeration to believe we are killing a part of them – killing delight, fantasy, creativity, joy, wonder, curiosity. . . I’m pretty sure there is more leniency in a federal prison than in that third grade class. 

It is absurd and anti-life to be a part of a system that compels you to listen to a stranger reading poetry when you want to learn to construct buildings, or to sit with a stranger discussing the construction of buildings when you want to read poetry.

John Taylor Gatto

A while back I posted about the awesome spam I get.

Then I got more spam.

I got a spam comment ON the post about spam.

And it said:

“I’ve bookmarked this because I found it interesting. I would be very interested to hear more news on this. Thanks!”

Seriously. That’s just damn funny. Your wish is my command, spambot.

Another winner was this message from a Tattoo Removal Service (?), in which the spammer sent me a joke:

So not really on the same topic as your post, but I found this today and I just can’t resist sharing. Mrs. Agathe’s dishwasher quit working so she called a repairman. Since she had to go to work the next day, she told him, “I’ll leave the key under the mat. Fix the dishwasher, leave the bill on the counter, and I’ll mail you the check. Oh, and by the way…don’t worry about my Doberman. He won’t bother you. But, whatever you do, do NOT under ANY circumstances talk to my parrot!” When the repairman arrived at Mrs. Agathe’s apartment the next day, he discovered the biggest and meanest looking Doberman he had ever seen. But just as she had said, the dog simply laid there on the carpet, watching the repairman go about his business. However, the whole time the parrot drove him nuts with his incessant cursing, yelling and name-calling. Finally the repairman couldn’t contain himself any longer and yelled, “Shut up, you stupid ugly bird!” To which the parrot replied, “Get him, Spike!”

I award that guy 95 points for creativity and extra credit for not mangling the English language too badly.

This one sucked me in with flattery:

This is a really good read for me. Must admit that you are one of the coolest bloggers I ever saw. Thanks for posting this informative article.

But then I noticed it was from a Male Breast Reduction Clinic.

And I was not flattered at all.

Everyone was SO HONEST yesterday on the Blog Hop!

I shoveled all kinds of crap educational stuff out of camera range so I could take presentable pictures, and then everyone else let it all hang out.

I felt a little guilty. So in the interest of full disclosure, here is what didn’t make it into the Schoolroom Beautiful pictures:

The Book Cart, which needs straightening. And OH YEAH, dig the books out from under the couch and put them away.

The closet in my office, where I store all the Future Schoolbooks and the Might Need This Someday stuff.

The bottom shelves hold the Free Play type things. You know, the crayons, markers and stickers that look so innocuous, but in the wrong hands hold the power to Sty-ify any room in a matter of minutes?

A cupboard over my desk with an old laptop that I need to load QuarterMile Math on, the ProClick (oh, ProClick, how I love thee…), and other assorted books and manipulatives.

And finally, the REAL Ugly Truth: My desk, where the magic happens -

And now you know - The Rest Of The Story.

Somebody ought to do something about this mess. I wonder whose job that is?

This week on the NOT Back to School Blog Hop, it’s School Room Week!

Here are some pictures of our school room, formerly known as the dining room. The living room and dining room form an ell, so I am standing in the living room to take these. There is totally not a huge mess right out of camera range because of the amount of shoveling I had to do to make this room presentable. I know these pictures are a little out of focus, but they aren’t bad for a completely cluesless person with a crap camera . . . right?

Try to appreciate how clean and neat it is – I’m pretty sure it’ll never look like this again. Here we have our tiny little table and chairs (OH THE CUTENESS) and our wall of pocket charts. In case you can’t tell how I hung those up (to avoid the pockets coming down when say, hypothetically, Certain Tiny People yank on them despite repeated warnings . . . I mean, obviously my children would never do that, but I’ve heard of it happening), I bought a 1×4, painted it white, and screwed it into the studs. Then I used extra-sturdy cup hooks to hang the charts on the 1×4. It works great, and I can rearrange or change out the charts without it turning into a big deal.

We have the ubiquitous Hundred and Alphabet Charts. The red pockets are Classroom Organizer Pockets, which I use in an extremely modified Workbox-y fashion. The little shelves underneath hold math manipulatives, pencil boxes, stickers, crayons, paper, and flashcard games. Before the shoveling, there was a little city of Matchbox cars being garaged. That’s our All About Spelling whiteboard on the far left.

Someone should’ve changed that volcano calender before she started getting all impressed with how the schoolroom was looking . . .

And on the other side is the entrance to the kitchen, the Calender Chart (clearly I have a Problem with Pocket Charts), and the little bookcase that houses my Mommy stuff. This bookcase is theoretically off-limits to people who are not the Mommy. I have my Binder which houses the schedule and all other important things, teacher’s manuals, the inserts for all those dadgum pocket charts, the pencil sharpener, the All About Spelling tiles and review cards . . .and maybe a sudoku book or two.

Speaking of Teacher’s Manuals, am I the only one who shells out money for them and then NEVER refers to them? Maybe that one time when I was trying to figure out what the heck the picture was supposed to be in Explode the Code – which they won’t even tell you! NO, the manuals are just full of a bunch of teaching crap.

Anyway! That’s our room! Of course there is all sorts of stuff elsewhere - whiteboards with magnetic alphabets and tangrams; a ridiculous level of crayons, markers, paper, stickers, coloring books, puzzle books, picture books, read aloud books, books, books, and more books; science experiments and maniplulatives and so on and so forth ad nauseum . . .  I’m saving my pennies for a big old chalkboard, just because I want one oh-so-very-badly.

Next week it’s school pictures! If you’d like to join the Blog Hop, head over to Heart of the Matter and link up!

I make a killer Ham and Bean soup (she said modestly). It has not one, but TWO secret ingredients in it. I am prepared to open the vault and share the recipe. 

As you know, I am all about stocking my freezer, so this recipe makes approximately 10 quarts of soup. Cut it down if you don’t want to make that much. Get a gigantic stock pot if you do. I bought a 12 quart stock pot at WalMart several years ago for about $40 and have never regretted it. 

Ham and 15 Bean Soup

• 2 20-ounce bags of dried 15 Bean Soup Mix
• 2 white onions, diced
• 3 pounds cooked ham, cubed
• 2-ish Tablespoons garlic paste
• 2 cans chicken broth
• 3 48-ounce bottles of V-8 juice (secret ingredient #1)
• 22 ounces of store-bought basil pesto (secret ingredient #2)

Rinse and soak the beans 8 – 12 hours. Sauté onions in oil in the bottom of a 12 quart, heavy-bottomed, soup pot. Add the ham and the garlic and sauté an additional 15 minutes or so. You are not trying to brown the ham, just warm it and get it to release some of its flavor. Add the soaked beans, the chicken broth, and the V-8 juice. Cover, and simmer on low for 3 or 4 hours until the beans reach desired doneness. Stir occasionally. Right before serving, add the pesto. Stir well to combine. 

This will stay fresh in the freezer for months. To serve, heat and top with grated parmesan cheese. 

That’s it! 

I have made this before with crushed tomatoes and chicken broth in addition to/instead of, the V-8. Do it however you like – this is a good soup to make with leftover ham at the holidays, or to clean out your pantry. I like the ease of using V-8, since it cuts down the ingredient list. It gives a nice, vegetable-y flavor without having to cut up a thousand vegetables. V-8 is the secret ingredient in a lot of my soups. It goes especially well in beef stew. 

Whatever you do, DO NOT SKIP THE PESTO. Pesto is THE most important ingredient. If you taste the soup before you add it, you will think it is too thin and very bland. The pesto adds an incredible richness and depth of flavor, and also thickens the soup. I know it seems like a weird ingredient, but it is the secret to a lot of my soups. I got the idea once after we ate at an Italian restaurant. When they brought my Chicken Minestrone soup, it had a big spoonful of pesto in it for me to stir in. It was delicious. I add pesto to all my chicken and turkey soups now. It can be expensive, especially at the grocery store. I buy large containers of it at Sam’s or Costco for much less. Pesto also freezes well, so you could divide it and store it that way. 

Let me know if you try it! It’s an easy, delicious freezer staple that we can thaw and eat after a busy day. I created a printable .pdf file and added it to the Printable Recipes section (left sidebar) to make it easy to add to your collection.

This recipe linked to Real Food Wednesday at Kelly the Kitchen Kop!

This is a picture of the inside of my refrigerator at 10am this morning.

Anyone notice anything here?

And of those of you who did, are you all the proud owners of ovaries?

That’s what I thought.

And that is: Do people in your regular life know you have a blog?

I have only told two people in my real life about this blog. One of whom is my Best Friend, and we’ve been friends for so long, she has to love me. It’s a habit by now. Plus I made it a rule. My husband knows, of course. He’s my IT guy. I don’t know how much he reads it. I have a suspicion he encouraged me to start writing so I would use up my daily allowance of words on other victims people. He was probably hoping it would tame the verbal vomit of Your-Daughter-Peed-On-My-Foot-Again-Today stories he hears the minute he walks in the door. Or maybe he isn’t kidding when he pretends he’s doesn’t want to hear about knitting.

That’s ridiculous. He loves knitting.

ANYway, today I was grousing about one thing or another to a Knitterly Friend of mine, and she made some comment about how funny I was and that I should write.

You can see why she’s my friend.

Aside from being super flattered, I now feel weird that I started a blog but did not tell her. She has a blog, and I think I might have mentioned once I was thinking about starting one too.

Here’s the thing. I am a pretty private person (oh, the irony). I don’t tell people much of anything. I have a very small circle of emotional intimacy. And there aren’t any in-laws or relatives or acquantaince-y type friends in it. I won’t even “friend” my mother-in-law on Facebook. I can’t help but think it would feel weird to go to Knit Night and know that all these people were reading about me (oh, the narcissism), perhaps even things I might not have otherwise told them. AND there’s always the possibility that it could get back around to people that I really DON’T want peeking in my windows.

On the other hand, how would I feel if someone who was becoming-a-friend had a blog, but didn’t tell me? It’s like if I don’t tell her soon (while the blog is still fairly new), then I can never tell her. What am I gonna do, in a year say something like, “oh yeah, I’ve had one for a while now?” That seems rude. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.

See the dilemma? What do you think?