Gin from the Cat Dish

Well, I'm 10 days overdue. To have a baby. I'd really like to blame the baby because that's my parenting philosophy but he's been heads down seven up for months now. I'm pretty sure he's just as annoyed as I am that this is taking so long. We're passengers on a road trip that has lost its romance. We're tired of touching and we've heard all each other's stories. Joanna Newsom's sad crone voice is on repeat with that line of hers, "And I am progressing abominably."Well that and the line about slow low flying turkeys. If you've ever seen one, it's impressive and surprisingly graceful but you're also fairly concerned that it will fly right into a tree. I walked up Phinney Ridge to the bakery Fresh Flours and felt a little obscene. My belly is so big and the baby is riding so low that walking is less like a waddle and more like two halves of two different people not quite going the same direction. And I can't tell you ho...

This week is my first week off from work before the baby comes. I've been looking forward to this month before the baby ever since Shaughn and I decided we could probably swing it. This would be my month to spring clean the house, do some writing, read a book, and most of all to "nest." My vision of nesting has been this burst of energy I would feel to clean the nooks and crannies of my house, make space for our new roommate, and to set up the nursery with love and care until it just gleams with soothing smells and good parenting. But four days in and nesting has presented itself very differently. Instead of calmly folding cute onesies and putting them lovingly in the new-to-us dresser that is ADORABLE, I got extremely annoyed that I couldn't find little baskets to fit in the drawers. This will never work. The first time I have to do laundry and put his clothes away, all these little piles will just fall over until it's one horrible drawer of chaos! Our baby wil...

Growing up we rarely had peas as my dad is not much of a fan. However, whenever there were peas served, he liked to note that he ate them despite them not being his favorite. This, of course, made my siblings and I roll our eyes. We weren't picky eaters by any means but none of us like beets or this weird cabbage dish appropriately called "Stuff", both of which my parents loved. We were a little whiny about it. So to set an example, Dad would announce how polite he was being every time he ate peas. Which was a good call because none of us would have noticed otherwise. To his credit, he doesn't do this anymore. In fact, my sister and I both made dishes with peas in them the last time he and Mom were out here and he made a point of saying how much he wanted to try it WITH the peas and was not only game but very complementary. Shaughn loves peas. They are easily one of his favorites so we grow quite a few in our garden. But every time I pick them, I can't help but ...

I love seeing all the old pictures on Facebook on Thursdays but I never really feel like I have enough time on Thursdays to sort through old pictures and post one. But this morning as I was rereading some of my old blog, I came across this post that cracked me up. It's even better than 80's hair in that it's pretty embarrassing. I can't believe I used to use the health of my va-j-j as material! Aghhhh!!!!! Friday, December 21st, 2007         About a week and half ago I woke up with some problems down yonder. So instead of a fun day with my boyfriend, I spent the morning at the Dr's learning that I had a urinary track infection AND a yeast infection. Later that day, I got my period and surrendered to the absolute shittiness of the situation. I basically cried for the rest of the night and sent my boyfriend home so he and I could cut our losses before I accidentally died. Things got better in the sense that my va-j-j recovered. But I'm still weepy. I l...

On August 6th, Shaughn and I will celebrate 3 years of marriage. Although we have talked about whether or not we wanted to go out or eat in (eat in: steaks from the quarter cow we just bought), there hasn't been much conversation around anniversary gifts. Which is typical. Of me.  Shaughn is an amazing gift giver. He puts a lot of thought into them and is happy to splurge on me. While I'll have to strong arm him to buy things he needs, he has no problem hording tip money to buy me something lavish. He never misses a birthday, an anniversary, or a Valentine's Day. I mean, I'm a real lucky lady. Last year was our "cotton" anniversary and Shaughn got me a big fluffy white bathrobe. I got Shaughn a big fat nothing. He even got me a card. Honestly, I thought we were just going out to eat for our anniversary. I had no idea we were exchanging gifts! I felt like such a schmuck.  This year I ALMOST DID IT AGAIN! The only reason I didn't was because I asked S...

These are by far my favorite spring vegetable. They are the first thing I look for once the farmer's markets start back up. This year we bought two bunches, complained at how expensive they were, and bought two more bunches the next week.  We brought Reggie with us to the farmer's market and he had a very nice time eating all the stray veggies on the ground and only made me second guess why I brought him with me once. And that was when he kept standing on his hind feet like a meerkat at the nut booth. As if the nut booth wasn't awkward enough. My favorite way to prepare these little beauties is to braise them until tender with the greens and finished with a large pat of miso butter. They are the best part of a meal. Recipe: 2 Bunches of turnips with their greens, scrubbed and separated from their greens.  2 T Unsalted Butter room temperature   2 T Miso 1 tsp Salt In a shallow pan with a lid, bring 1 1/2 inches of water and the salt to a bo...

My new favorite people watching place is the dog park. It's a true panoply of dog people. People with little dogs, big dogs, giant dogs, and medium dogs. There are beautiful dogs and weirdo dogs. Full breed dogs and inventive mixes. Reggie is a medium, beautiful, full bred English Cocker Spaniel. And we as the dog owners, size each other up and make certain assumptions about each other based on our dogs. For example: "Is she a Golden Retriever Dachshund mix?" --Nope. Actually he's just English Cocker Spaniel." "Oh!" "What kind of dog is yours--seems like such a sweetheart." "Oh she is. She's a rescue so you know, we don't really know. But we just love her! She had a lot of abuse so she was so skittish at first." From this exchange I know that she thinks I should have made the morally superior choice and rescued a dog instead of buying him from a puppy mill. That I just don't care about all those poor dogs needing ...