A big pile of happy violets! This is part of the main clump in the garden, although the ones that made a break for it and took up residence in the middle of the lawn look pretty happy too.
The garden has gone crazy this week. I plan to park my butt in our newly-deployed hammock chair and admire it. I wonder if our wireless internet extends that far?
The very delicately written piece by Mary P linked below brings to mind a conversation I had once with a newly-separated woman whose daughter was in the same daycare class as my daughter.
How is it now that W is gone, I asked. More work or less?
Oh, it’s SO MUCH EASIER, she said. Now I just have the two kids, instead of two little kids and one big one.
There’s probably a long German word that describes the state of being simultaneously happy and sad for someone.
Sometimes, Saying Nothing is the Kindest Response; or, People Can’t Read Minds
Quotation of the Day for April 25, 2007:
“I now know why my own childhood packed lunches were such joyless, dispirited affairs. It was vengeance. And despair. Somehow it is very hard to feel inspired to make sandwiches at 8.15 in the morning. I just stare into the fridge.
“As Nietzsche said, peer long enough into the fridge (the most common translations use the word “abyss”, but his true meaning is clear) and after a while the fridge stares back at you. Such fugitive joy as there is at that time of day vanishes utterly. What now? Tuna and sweetcorn again? I do not have writer’s block. I have sandwich block.”
- Nicholas Lezard, “Slack Dad”, Guardian 22.10.2003.
I’ve been trying to take my lunch to work lately instead of buying it. It’s healthier, more sociable, less expensive, and good for my French (it’s mostly my Francophone colleagues who seem to eat lunch in our office kitchen). But yeah, that quote nails it.
If only this woman would come by and make my lunch for me. Using her collection of fabulous bento stuff, of course. Unfortunately she lives in San Fran and she probably wouldn’t enjoy the commute even if she did know me, which she doesn’t.
I just know I’ll be at a Japanese supply store one day and I’ll buy an expensive pile of cool bento equipment thinking grand thoughts of perfect, colourful, nutritionally-balanced lunches like the ones she makes. Then the next morning I’ll be staring into the abyss of the fridge, thinking “sandwich” yet again.
From the Star: Why Jean has to watch her back
A few years ago I was walking along Dundas a few blocks west of Yonge near the bus terminal, and all of a sudden some random guy punched me HARD on my upper arm as he walked by. Really hard — it made a lovely fist-sized bruise. There was no provocation; I wasn’t even looking at the guy, as I’d been watching something across the street. I barely saw him, really. I kept walking, and so did he — I figured he was a bit disordered, one way or another, and it wouldn’t help much to run after him shouting “Hey, buddy, what the F??” So I kinda shook my head, figured it was one of those things that’s a freak occurrence in a big city and got on with finding myself some lunch.
Now I find out it’s practically an epidemic. Bizarre!
It didn’t for one second occur to me to report it to the police, although I was within easy walking distance of 52 Division. In Fiorito’s article the police say they want to hear about such things but really, what could they have done? I saw the guy for maybe one second and couldn’t have given a useful description (“Asian I think or maybe white, looked pretty normal, uh, wearing some clothes… sharp knuckles…”), I was not seriously hurt, I didn’t know where he went. I imagine the poor overworked 52 Division guys would’ve been all “yeah, thanks lady, now pardon me while I round-file your statement and get back to working on Homicide #43″. Plus I was hungry: I can never decide what I want to eat so by the time I head out to search for lunch, I’ve probably been hungry and indecisive for two or three hours.
This guy (these guys?) seems to be OK with broad daylight and doesn’t seem to care whether or not the woman is alone. At least, for once, we won’t have to hear the tired “don’t go out alone”-type advice.
I wonder, has anyone ever punched him back?
It’s hard to get a picture of her actually riding the thing — she puts on a very serious face if asked to pose, and otherwise is moving WAY too fast.
I’m going to have to get out my scooter to keep up with her!
I’ve never felt a need for this newspaper (or, in fact, noticed it before). Does this mean I’m an amateur woman?
The Estonian Easter dessert.
(Ingredients, courtesy of my grandmother. Method developed by my mom’s trial-and-error experiments, and mine.)
Ingredients:
2 lbs dry cottage cheese (This is sold in vacuum packs near the regular cottage cheese. Salted? Unsalted? Some of each? Up to you. I used 1/2 salted, 1/2 unsalted, but that’s just because that’s all Loblaw’s had.)
1/3lb currants
2 tbsp candied fruit
1/2 c sliced almonds
6 egg yolks
1/3 lb melted butter
3/4c whipping cream, or 1/2 c sour cream
1/2 lb (1 1/4c) white sugar
1 tbsp vanilla
grated peel of one lemon
What to do:
1. Assemble the following:
• 2 large bowls
• Food processor or hand mixer (or both)
• Cheesecloth
• Empty dishwasher or an accomplice willing to clean up after you
• Something heavy (like boxes of nails, or a brick)
2. Process cottage cheese until it’s somewhat smooth and put in a large bowl. My grandmother apparently uses a food mill for this.
3. Process currents, candied fruit, and almonds until they’re in reasonably small chunks but not completely macerated. Add to cottage cheese, but don’t bother mixing it in yet .
4. Process egg yolks, melted butter, lemon peel, sugar, vanilla and whipping cream or sour cream.
5. Combine with the cottage cheese mixture and mix well (this is where the hand mixer comes in). It should be kind of a soupy texture.
(It looks rather more appetizing after it’s mixed!)
6. Line the other large bowl with cheesecloth. Transfer the mixture to the cheesecloth and tie closed. Place in a colander, put the colander in a large bowl, put a clean pot lid over it, and put it in the fridge (remember about those egg yolks). Then put your heavy item on top of the pot lid and leave it for a few hours until the texture is somewhat firm, rather like ice cream. About 1 cup of liquid will drain off.
7. Clean up the enormous mess all of this has created (or hand it off to your accomplice).
8. Remove the cheesecloth and transfer the pasha to a container with a tight lid (to keep it from drying out). Refrigerate.
9. Makes about 8 cups. Don’t eat too much at once — it’s really rich!
Yesterday we bestirred ourselves only to head down to our local for brunch (crab-and-spinach eggs benny and double-chocolate cherry stout, mmmm) and then we sluggishly lay about the house digesting for the rest of the day, burping occasionally and studiously ignoring the snow flurries outside. Very enjoyable.
Today we were more active and hit the ROM — or the bit of it that’s fun for kids, anyway — with a pile of friends and our horde of small ones. We were going to go to a farm but it’s hard to ignore the snow flurries when you’re out in them. The kids would’ve been fine, I’m sure, but we adults felt wimpy about the cold. So the museum it was.
Then lunch, and now we’re embarking on Projects. M is doing something with small bits of wool and her unicorn toys, D has just arrived back from an expedition to Home Despot and I am messing about (fairly literally) in the kitchen with Estonian dessert recipes and phyllo dough appetizers for tomorrow’s dinner. That’ll be enough activity, I think, and we’ll probably lie around sluggishly and burp again for the next two days.
I did pretty well with the March 26 Things list (hope that link works — if not try this) — I got 20 of the 26 this time, better than I’ve ever managed before.
26 Things, for anyone who doesn’t know, is a sort of photographic scavenger hunt. You get a list of 26 words and then you try to take a picture for each word. Fun stuff, and a good excuse to carry a camera around and look at things a little differently or more closely than you might otherwise.
I had a lovely afternoon at the craft show on Friday and am now the owner of:
My birthday’s not until tomorrow, but we had the cake event already (D’s first attempt, and a triumph) so I feel I can deliver my bit of wisdom for this upcoming year:
Spend your tax refund the day after you get it, so you’re not tempted to do something sensible with it.
