crazedparent

Living mindfully and with grace...

A few days after I put that little NaBloPoMo button on the blog (to your left), I had the overwhelming urge to just unplug for a spell. I enjoy the maintaining a writing/posting routine, but I'm not into forced writing. And for me and my writing style, that's what NaBloPoMo becomes: forced writing. Even though lots of wonderfully fun things were happening here last week, I chose not to post about it. A mini protest of sorts. NaBloPoMoNoMo. Get it? NoMo = No more. Yeah, whatever, I thought it was clever. Moving on.

I picked up a copy of Body+Soul,  which is a Martha Stewart magazine, while grocery shopping yesterday. The cover oozed "serenity now" with its image of hot pink flower; I couldn't resist. I always gather lots of interesting tidbits of information and ideas that are useful in day-to-day life, and so the magazine is one of my regular reads.

The section I most enjoy is the on the last page of the rag and it's called "10 Thoughts on Whole Living." Some of them are ethereal and have that New Age vibe. Most, however, just inspire good, kind living.

Here's one that I truly love from the November issue: "Try doing even the most menial tasks mindfully and with grace."

Reading those words makes me smile, which leads me to believe that living through that thought would make me smile more often, too. Now, I'm not sure I'll be scrubbing the toilet mindfully and with grace, but I willing to give it a shot.

But when I'm in Maui in a few weeks time? I'll absolutely be doing every menial task mindfully and with grace. That you can count on.

A typical Sunday afternoon in the kitchen...

Cookbook open (if using one), ingredients lined up in pretty dishes, food cooling on the counter, a requisite glass of some sort of white wine (other cocktails are best suited for Saturday dispatches from the test kitchen), and a golden stream of sunlight through the window.

Hovering in the wings is a sneaky, black dog who is poised for quick counter theft if and when the humans leave the room. 

Never! Her attempts are thwarted as she is always forced to leave the room with us and we close the door to the kitchen. I learned that lesson long ago.

I am currently smitten with Mad Hungry: Recipes and Strategies for Feeding Men and Boys by Lucinda Scala Quinn. The book is pictured in this photo. I was making my chicken broth and her recipe for cream cheese pie crusts, chicken pot pie, and apple crisp. Another dispatch, another day.

I am interviewing Lucinda next week in San Francisco and may have to hug her out of sheer joy because her book is so spot on when it comes to being a mom to and cooking for boys. And the stories about her sons made me tear up.

For the love of grocery shopping...

I've always enjoyed grocery shopping alone at a quiet, slow pace. Searching for the right ingredients. Scouring produce for perfect fruit and vegetables. Listening to the always dramatic 70s and 80s tunes that float across the aisles while I push my cart.

Shopping in the early morning is especially pleasant; the produce is fresh and the store is near empty. Plus I can be home in time to read the newspaper over coffee with the hubs while the boys are still in their jammies all cozy cute.

I do confess to one problem with my grocery shopping: I can easily stray from my shopping list when I spy something yummy. Also? I've never kept a really strong shopping list and have often come home only to return to the store later in the day because I've forgotten a few key ingredients. Clearly a habit that needed breaking.

Weekly meal planning has helped me change the habit of not buying food on a whim. But a neat, practical kitchen tool has made the real difference on my shopping and meal organization habits.

A few months a go I was at my friend Leslie's house and she had this cute Real Simple grocery shopping note pad on her refrigerator. I picked one up at Target for nine bucks, stuck it on the refrigerator and seriously? I am now an on-task shopper. The notepad is in checklist form with all the essential kitchen items listed (dairy, cheese, the usual veggie and fruit suspects) and open lines for you to jot down specifics.

I've had regular notepads on the refrigerator and have been pretty good about writing down items once they need replacing. But because this Real Simple checklist already is pre-populated with ingredients, it triggers my mind to think about what might be missing from the list. It just makes life a little easier. And I really stick to only buying what's on the list.

Also? My husband doesn't have to complain about my chicken scrawl when does the shopping. 

Whatever works.

Luna Loves: Bath robes for dogs...

One of my simple, silly pleasures in life is taking a stroll through the Orvis dog catalog every month. Some of the products are practical, while others are just plain cute. I admit to loving a pair of dog slippers -- for me, not the dog.

Then there are those dog products that are completely outrageous. Like the doggie bath robe. And the doggie hair dryer. I remind myself that these products exist because people are willing to spend money on them, just like new parents are willing to spend inordinate amounts of money on unnecessary baby gear.

Either way, drying your wet dog need not be complex or expensive (neither does walking your dog in the rain). Just grab an old towel, chase your dog around and capture him or her, and dry dry dry while the mutt does an insane wiggle dance.

And if you want to test out a product that will the process more efficient, Luna Lovegood recommends this paw towel. Even better? Try a dog chamois, which costs less and works even better than a paw towel.

Dispatch from the test kitchen: Spinach, leek and potato soup a la Sunset Magazine

*I wrote a post to accompany this photo but Typepad ate it (the post, not the soup). I will repost it later, along with the other posts from the week after I transcribe them from my now beat up, ratty cornered journal. Short version? The soup was really, really good. And pretty too.

Our weekly CSA box often dictates our meals. I love that it forces me to search for new ways to use vegetables and fruits.

A few weeks ago, a vibrant green bunch of spinach arrived. Tired of spinach salad, I turned to one of my cooking bibles, any issue of Sunset magazine, after recalling that the October issue included a recipe for a spinach soup -- an amended version of vichyssoise. My only concern: Would the boys eat it or steer clear of the table after taking one look at the color and smelling the highly pungent leeks and spinach in the soup.

I was pleasantly surprised; they each ate two bowls.

The spinach leek and potato soup is simple and elegant, especially when served with oven-toasted croutons on top and in a white bowl. It is rich and hearty the weight of cream. I paired it with a nice sauvignon blanc (for mom and dad). Perfect for a cozy fall night.

I followed the Sunset recipe to the letter, save for one diversion; I used a Cuisinart hand blender to puree the soup instead of using a regular blender. The hand blender is another staple in my kitchen and makes pureeing soup so much easier.

Next from the test kitchen? My very first attempt at a turkey dinner, dressing and all. I admit I'm a little nervous. Any tips?

Things I love: Gold hoop earrings...

My godparents, or compadres, visited almost every year from El Salvador. My godfather (padrino), Tio Ricardo, was my mom's brother, and his wife, my tia and godmother (madrina), is still alive.

With each visit, they would bring dulce de leche, queso seco, and other various foods from El Salvador. But because I was their godchild, I would always receive a small box with words of love and blessings etched on the top in Tia's writing.

Those boxes always contained beautiful, airy gold pieces of jewelry. Rings, earrings, necklaces, bracelets. As I got older, they mixed in silver and gems, some of them custom made for me. I saved almost all of the boxes along with the jewelry -- the cases still maintain their distinct smell from my compadres home.

As my grandmother started to travel back and forth to El Salvador, she would also began bringing me little boxes of baubles as well.  The presentation of the gift was almost more wonderful than the gift itself, with grandma asking me to come in to her room and wait while she searched around her suitcase looking for that tiny box. She would open it slowly as I sat beside her wondering what treasure she was about to show me.

"Para ti," she would say, her hazel eyes twinkling with delight. "It's for you." I would squeal, hug her, and cover her rosy cheeks with kisses.

I learned to love jewelry because of my compadres and my grandmother. I rarely wore the jewelry when I was in high school and college; it seemed too mature, too fragile. Now, I wear each piece as much as I can.

Now, my mom carries the little box of jewelry tradition when she travels with my dad. She's fond of rings, and now so am I.

But gold hoop days are my favorite. The hoops in this photo were a gift from my Tia. I wear my hair loose, curls abound. Or taut and pulled back into a fierce pony tail with my burgundy specs.. Either way, I feel free, inspired, and writerly. I want to sit at coffee shops and scribble in my journal (as I was doing in this photo). Or go on a date with my husband and stare at him over sassy beverages.

A music lesson: Before the iPod...

A few weekends ago, I co-hosted a yard sale with my pal Kikirikee. While I managed to sell a decent amount of items we no longer needed at Casa Crazedparent, I also managed to bring home a few things as well. (This is always the case when you co-host a garage sale, si?)

Along with several of Thomas the Tank Engine trains and accessories for Q., I bought a Walkman. A young boy, probably about 8 years old, was holding it and asking, "What is this thing?" Kikirikee and I explained that it played music. And then I proceeded to take it from his hands, ever so politely, and buy it. For fifty cents.

I have large box of cassettes in our garage. I've held onto them with the belief that someday, my boys will appreciate learning about some important, if not critical, parts of their mom's childhood. Music has always been part of my core. (How many times have you read that on crazedparent? A lot.) I can pick up a cassette case and tell you exactly what was going on in my life at that point in time just based on the album cover and songs.

Over the weekend, I was home alone and working on my closet workspace (pictures coming). When I found a cable that would connect the Walkman to my portable iPod speaker, I literally jumped off a chair that I was standing on, ran into the garage, and grabbed five tapes from that box of cassettes.

I cranked up the volume and the sheer joy of listening to Def Leppard (Hysteria), Don Henley (The End of the Innocence) and The Beatles (Please Please Me) -- on tape -- was bliss. Mix tapes I'd made for Prom weekend. I couldn't stop smiling, especially when a part of a song started to warble, reminding me that it was rewound and played over and over and over.*

When the boys came home, I showed them the Walkman. Seven was mesmerized. "A TAPE? That's cool!" He sat in the living room as The Beatles sweetly crooned love songs. He learned how to rewind and fast forward. He asked questions that made us look at the differences between iPods and old music technology.

Then it got a little crazy.

Seven and Q. have been singing bits from "Gonna Make You Sweat" by C+C Music Factory of late. Specifically, the phrase "Everybody dance now!" has become "Everybody eat now!". "Everybody sleep now!" And my favorite, "Everybody be quiet now!"

Pandemonium ensued when I showed them the cassette holder of that very song and album. We had to listen to said song, natch.

Today, the house is still. The boys are back at school, the husband at work, and I go about my daily business.

But the Walkman is getting a workout. And that box full of cassettes is slowly emptying while their songs roll through the house and fill my mind with memories that make me smile.

*Tidbit: I own not a single Rick Springfield cassette. Only albums and CDs!