Soon to Looz

We leave at the crack of dawn for Louisiana, just missing dear family friends who are staying in our house the whole time we're gone. What a gift to have loving friends watching our pets and staying cozy in our home. I love it. This guy will love it too!

This afternoon, we celebrated an early Christmas with Tom's parents -Oliver is besotted with his Ghostbusters costume!- and then realized we really must pack and ready ourselves. Leftover gumbo made for a spectacular dinner, and now I'm off to bed, both dreading and happily anticipating the early alarm waiting to rouse me.

On double-checking the caffeine in tea you give your child; fall; porcine magician; misc

Of course you can have tea, sweet child

It occurred to me last night around 11pm, when Jack was still awake and truly unable to do anything about it, that perhaps the pots of tea we'd shared with my dear friend, Gay, while at her house playing Monopoly with her and her grandsons, had not been caffeine-free.

It was green leaf tea from China, and we must have steeped three full bags during our hours at play. I realized that my headache subsided but felt sure that was the tea's ancient medicinal power coming through. Also, green tea doesn't have any caffeine, and so I watched with pleasure as Jack downed cup after cup with such pure contentment while we played. An eight-year-old who requests honey and happily grasps a warm mug of tea on a cool afternoon- what is more charming?

Y'all, green tea does have caffeine. You probably all knew that. And my poor little guy was wired to beat sixty. He awoke on the wrong side of the sleepless bed and was rather a bear today, but I could hardly blame him. Literally. #momfail

Somewhat inexplicably (because a sports family we really aren't), young chap read the sports section while eating breakfast this morning.

Fall is falling

After an absurd series of intense dog days last week, fall broke overnight last Thursday, sweeping in with an invigorating zip. It was glorious today; bright, blue, crisp. The sort of day that makes you feel utterly alive, like you want to make applesauce and pumpkin bread and rake leaves and later enjoy something warm and cozy. Indeed, I have flannel PJ pants on right now, and from the moment I slipped them on, I have felt satisfied. This heat-loving lady does love the advent of fall!

Last night, we enjoyed steaming bowls of gumbo, and I again thanked T for making a double batch last month and freezing some. My farming friend gave me a stunning Cinderella pumpkin recently; it is the perfect home accessory this time of year. If only I'd made it to the farmers market today for some fall goodies. Alas. I did make an apple pie with a pecan crumble topping on Friday. We ate it all before I snapped a pic. Oops!

Have you ever met a porcine magician?

I hadn't until yesterday.

These pics = enough said. Look at that eye in the second shot; studying my every move!

Miscellaneous

Fresh garbanzos! Delightful! Harder to peel than they appear.

Fresh ricotta: always the best! Dollops of this beautiful snow dot my pizza tonight.

On November 21, Benedict's movie, The Imitation Game, in which he plays the incredible WWII cryptographer, Alan Turing, opens. He will be excellent in this role!

Children cussing, gumbo making

I'm still cringe-laughing because, as is true for much of parenthood, you just can't make this shit up. You see, in Spanish club last term, Oliver developed a big, mutual crush on a 4th grader, P, who was assisting the teacher. I know the girl's mother pretty well so offered up that if ever her daughter wanted to play or get babysitting experience, I'd be happy to have her over as a "mother's helper."  Ol kept asking, the dear girl felt equally enthused, and so yesterday P came over for two hours after the boys returned home from camp.

Though Jack ultimately left Ol and P to themselves, initially the three played several rounds of Spanish bingo. Approximately 22 minutes after P arrived, I was making roux in the kitchen and thinking to myself, "this is just a lovely situation!" when I heard Jack yell down, "Mom, Oliver just said the "f-word."

"WTF?!" I said to myself.

"Excuse me, what f-word?" hoping beyond hope that the answer was 'fart.'

Jack: "The bad one."

Oliver: "Fuck! Isn't that a Spanish word?"

People, I'm wracking my brain and can think of no Spanish word that sounds like 'fuck.' I suspect Oliver is quick on his feet in the BS department rather than honestly thinking fuck is a Spanish vocab word he learned, and I'll give him that, but good god. 22 minutes in?

In as calm a voice as I could muster through mortification and under-my-breath laughing, I reminded Oliver that what he said was really quite a bad word and that he would not be repeating it. I then texted a friend because this story had to be shared immediately. She was in the pit of hell with her tykes and seemed to appreciate comic relief.

"OK, Mom."

Naturally, I let P's mother know, as soon as she arrived, that should P mention that my five year old said 'fuck' during Spanish bingo, I really didn't know where this came from and had handled it. She laughed, I laughed, say it with me: "You can't make this shit up."

Fortunately, this cussing did not interfere deleteriously with my roux-making, a good thing since making roux on a hot day is fairly arduous and you'd always prefer to not make a second batch unless you have or want to. By the time we ate, it was actually really nice out, so T and I moved to the deck with steaming bowls of gumbo. Gumbo is one of my favorite dishes of all time. I love it so much. It is highbrow, lowbrow, home, comfort and spice all in a bowl.

I spent two hours with my dear friend, G, this morning and am now making Strawberry Pinot Noir jam. Back to it!