Random Monday

In CategoryRandom Monday


• Little made an astonishing breakthough this week in the Dishes Department, telling me, “HEY! If you use the scrubby side of the sponge it really helps get the gunk off!” I recall a similar epiphany her father had shortly after we were married, “Hey! Did you know if you rinse the dishes right after you eat, they are way easier to wash?” He was delighted with this realization, which I promptly confided to my mother in bewilderment (how does one get to be 25 and not know about rinsing? how?), and it might have been the first time we collectively shook our heads together over “men.”

• I thought this podcast was quite interesting – Why Doing Less is the Best Way to Do More. It had some new (to me) ways of thinking about things. Normally I never listen to podcasts, although I know people who extol the virtues of them often. In truth, podcasts mystify me. Where do you even find them? Is there some kind of library of them? It seems tedious to seek out the best ones, and in any event, my house is never quiet. Besides, I have a little something called a radio and people’s voices come out of it with virtually no effort from me. 

• I quite liked this post – Happy to Homeschool at Clean. Clean is a very peaceful blog. I like going there.

• This, from The Fearless Homeschool – The Venerable College Search. I loved this post, mostly because I want to keep my children near me always, and this validates that feeling.

• I turned a men’s sweatshirt from the thrift store into a skirt for Little, just in time for Sunday Night Football (which is happening as I write this. I had to escape. Football is so incredibly tiresome. They should cut it in half, that would be better. There is rather a lot of grumbling and swearing coming from the other room right now).

Broncos-Skirt-1   Broncos-Skirt-2

I know it looks a bit puckery, but I made it in less than an hour and plus also I don’t know what I am doing. It’s much better in person and in fact, I am quite envious of an ankle length sweatshirt skirt, it looks very cozy. She’s only going to have a waist as small as a person’s neck for so long, so I might as well take advantage of it.

• Happy Monday, y’all! Week Two of School for us!


In CategoryNavel Gazing

Jim had to go out of town last week. This was the third trip in six weeks, and I’m over it. This one was some kind of convention or something in San Francisco. He stayed in a luxury hotel right downtown. We talked about the suitcase to take, the amount of cash he needed, and cabs vs. renting a car. It also occurred to me that 30,000 geeks in one location might look like fish in a barrel to the Working Girl. It seemed prudent to warn him against pretty girls talking to him for no reason.

The morning he left, he kept texting me that his flight was delayed. That always happens because United sucks. But when I flipped on the tv to catch some Judge Judy watch the news like a responsible adult, I saw there had been a huge earthquake in the Bay Area.


He apparently settled in to the $700-a-night-hotel life pretty easily, because the next thing I knew, he was complaining his shuttle was 10 minutes late to take him to the convention center.


Later that night, he called and regaled us with tales of the $55 Kobe Beef Steak Sandwich he had for lunch, and the thickness of the Complimentary Egyptian Cotton Bathrobes.

Suddenly my much-anticipated midnight snack of Honey Smacks seemed inadequate.


We survived, just like we always do. We went berry picking, sewed recycled t-shirt skirts, and I continued the kids’ education in Cleaning Stuff While Mom Hollers Instructions From the Couch.

Random Monday

In CategoryRandom Monday


• This is interesting – I will not teach my kids about safe sex. Many things to think about there.

• I think I might be borderline Highly Sensitive. Huh.


Giraffe Coffee

• Happy Labor Day, y’all! School starts tomorrow! To that end I just ordered some stuff. Because I am on top of the situation like that.


Peaches Come in a Can

In CategoryCooking, Navel Gazing

they were put there by a man, in a factory dowwwwwwnnntowwwwwwnnnn…

If I had my little way I'd eat peaches every day

What have we learned?

Well, firstly – and I say this with the deep and abiding in your soul kind of knowledge that only experience gives – peeling peaches sucks.

One Sunday, caught up in the frenzy of various the peaches are ripe now! now! NOW! Facebook posts, I went to a local farm and bought forty pounds of peaches.


Let’s back up a bit. I have never canned anything in my life before this summer. Because botulism. My total canning experience prior to this peach buying incident, was Strawberry Jam, affectionately known in my house as Failure Jam.

Six half-pints of Failure Jam and the purchase of 4 books on canning, led me, somehow, to confidently buy 40 pounds of peaches on a whim.

It just occurred to me that this whole story pretty much sums up my entire personality.

In any event, after spreading all the peaches out on the table to ripen, and I went to the store to buy canning jars. While I was at the store, doubt crept in. Jim caught me glumly surveying the table full of peaches.

“what’s the matter?”

“Well, you know I had to go to the grocery store to buy canning jars for the peaches. And you know what ELSE they have at the grocery store? CANNED PEACHES.”

He patted me pityingly and went to work.

Peeling and slicing eight million one hundred and thirteen peaches was a big job. Three-quarters of the way through, I was over trying to beat Dole at their game, and I turned the last batch into Salted Brown Sugar Peach Jam, except not really jam because I am over making jam and prefer making syrupy preserve-y things that we can pour over pancakes or add to yogurt or pour over ice cream. Or pancakes. Or ice cream.

Those little jars made me happier than the sliced peaches for some reason, and I was trying to figure out why. Somehow making food from scratch seems like part of a simple lifestyle, but turning my kitchen into a giant sticky mess is NOT, in fact, simpler than say, BUYING A JAR OF FREAKING PEACHES. But I can’t just go out and buy peaches in brown sugar, or handpicked blackberries in syrup, or even Failure Jam, and seeing those little jeweled jars lined up makes me clap my hands in happiness.

I do a fair amount of rolling my eyes at all these endeavors, too, though, because none of this is simple, and certainly not simpler than nuking a chicken nugget. But a chicken nugget just isn’t as…satisfying, is it?

Perhaps a Simple Year isn’t the only thing I crave.