Lady Susan

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Fri, 27 Jan 2012 12:00:00 +0000

We hit the picture book jackpot at the library the other day. On our way home from story time, I grabbed a few of the new books that looked like they might work for entertaining young Finn: interesting pictures, short text, etc. If rating was based solely on the number of times I read these during the day, then they all would be five stars. The fact that I am not hiding these behind the couch yet so that Finn can't find them also means that they are pretty good.

The Belly Book: I love the retro style illustrations pared with short rhyming text. And of course you can't beat a book devoted to a child's favorite body part: the belly! Ironically, Finn loves the one page that I find not so interesting. Go figure.

Animal Baths: Can you really go wrong with an animal book? Not in our house at least. This combines animals with bath time--two of Finn's favorite things. The pictures are bright and colorful and the rhyming text is fun.

Where's Walrus: This has no text. I can have a hard time with books with no text. They can be hard to share with little kids. This is not a problem with Where's Walrus though. The pictures are simple and blocky with a minimal color pallet. You can have your child point out the walrus as he is trying to hide from the zookeeper. Also, you can work on colors: What color hat is the walrus wearing now? I find the illustrations fun.

Big Hugs, Little Hugs: The pictures in this book are a combination of paper collage and illustrations. They show different animals.....hugging of all things. Cats hug, dogs hug, inside hugs, outside hugs. Again, you can't go wrong with animals at this age. Also, Finn loves to hug so he really likes this book. I like this book because it means that I can give lots of hugs.

I have been initiated

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 13:00:00 +0000

I made two muffin recipes entirely from scratch. And when I say from scratch, I really mean I started with the barest of recipe bones. I did not take an existing recipe, change only a couple of ingredients, and then call myself then next Julia Child. (Can you tell that is pet peeve of mine of food bloggers?)

On GAPS, you are only allowed to bake with nut (such as blanched almond) or coconut flour. The only approved sweeteners are honey and dried fruit. And technically, leavening is banned as well, although some people think that baking soda might be acceptable if it is used up completely in the reaction.

I tried a couple of GAPS-legal muffin recipes via some cookbooks and websites, but I found them lacking. Also, they seemed excessively egg-y (three to six eggs for 12 muffins.) It started me thinking. How did they come to their final recipe? Why did they add that extra egg (or two or four?) I have discovered that the more limited your diet, the less reliable the recipes, whether from the internet or from a cookbook. You have people who, prior to their diagnoses, were reliant on convenience foods or box mixes now generating recipes for the masses. Or perhaps they were just average cooks. But, I can assure you there is no Dorie Greenspan developing recipes for those people who are avoiding grains, sugars, and most dairy.

Baking is based on ratios. A pancake recipe almost always follows the ratio of 2 parts flour, 2 parts liquid, 1 part egg, and 1/2 part fat. Likewise, bread is 5 parts flour and 3 parts liquid. There is a theory that this works with gluten-free flours for the most part as well. The Gluten-Free Ratio Rally is a group of gluten-free bloggers who use these basic ratios to develop new gluten-free recipes and meet with great success (and yes, some failures too). So, I had this thought. Maybe I could develop a GAPS-friendly muffin recipe using this idea of ratios.

The muffin ratio is as follows:

2 parts flour
2 parts liquid
1 part egg
1 part fat

Given that a large egg is 2 ounces:

4 ounces flour
4 ounces liquid
1 large egg
2 ounces fat (i.e. a half of a stick of butter)

Then you need some sort of leavening. The general rule is 1 teaspoon baking powder for 4 ounces (scant cup) of flour. Well, I can't use baking powder. I need to use baking soda instead. I scoured the internet and found that you can use 1/4 teaspoon baking soda and 1/2 cup of acid ingredient (i.e. buttermilk, yogurt, etc.) in replacement for the baking soda. (Honey is also acidic. However it seems as though you need 3/4 cup of honey to activate a 1/4 teaspoon of soda. That was too much honey for my purposes so I need to add another acid ingredient to the recipe).

So the bare bones of my recipe looked like this:

4 ounces almond flour
4 ounces of liquid (to include honey (as a sweetener), lemon juice (acidic medium), and remaining liquid)
1 large egg
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 stick butter
1/2 teaspoon soda (I increased this because I read that you might need to increase the leavening if using almond flour)

The first recipe I made was too wet and too salty (I had used 1/2 teaspoon salt initially). I had even added more than the 4 ounces of almond flour that the ratio called for to get a decent consistency. This was in part because I forgot to include the honey initially in the liquid portion of the ratio. But, also, I think you might just need more almond flour since it doesn't quite behave like normal wheat flour. Then....I had a brainwave.....if I used just a little bit of coconut flour (which is super absorbent when it comes to liquids) in combination with the almond flour, I might just get the perfect balance.

Behold the resulting recipe. Which was delish.

Cranberry Orange Muffins
Gaps, Grain-free, Gluten-free, SCD, Paleo (have I named them all?)

Makes a half of recipe or 6 muffins

1 egg
1/2 stick butter, melted
1.5 ounces honey
3.5 ounces liquid (.5 ounce lemon juice and 3 ounces full fat coconut milk)
1/4 teaspoon vanilla

1 ounce coconut flour
3 ounces almond flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
zest of one clementine

1/2 cup chopped cranberries

Bake at 350 for 20 minutes.

Mix the liquid ingredients together. Whisk the dry ingredients together. Make a well in the dry ingredients, add the liquid and mix well. Bake immediately. (Baking soda starts reacting right away.)

So, I made a mistake with the liquid ingredients--added an extra ounce. However, it turned out well enough that I am leaving it as is. The recipe is obviously versatile: add a different fat in place of the butter, use a different liquid in place of the coconut milk and lemon juice as long as it is acidic.

It is rather empowering to have done this. I feel like I have been initiated into an exclusive club (The Recipe Makers)--and now have the keys to make any kind of muffin my little heart desires!

A Conversation

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 13:00:00 +0000

A co-worker of Mr. F.'s supplies us with eggs from his chickens.

Co-Worker: So, do you think you might discover that you are allergic to eggs?
Mr. F.: I don't think so. The allergist tested for that and it came back negative.
Co-Worker: Good. I would hate to need to find three other families to give my eggs to.

Yes. We eat a lot of eggs these days.

A floor sitter

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 13:00:00 +0000

So, I read a blog post back in August that has been stewing in my mind every since. I am not going to link to the blog post because I don't want the author to think that I am completely slamming her (that is not my intention.) But I just can't keep still about it either.

The author of the infamous post was answering the question, "how are you able to get some much work done on your house?" (I.e. painting walls, refinishing floors, reupholstering furniture, etc.) She lists a number of things: no watching television, having a lot of the materials on hand, etc., but then she says, "I do not play with my kids. I am not a floor sitter." And if that was it, I probably wouldn't be writing this. The comments, however, were full of people chiming in saying, "Yes! This is me too! I believe in helping kids be self-reliant and play independently!" And then I got all bitter.

The truth of the matter is this: I am a "floor sitter." Do I want to be a floor sitter? Not necessarily, although I don't mind playing with my son. Do I want my child to play independently? Yes. But I have no choice in the matter!

Sometimes I feel like parents give themselves too much credit for their child's behavior: "I taught them to be independent because I didn't give in to their every whim to play." When in fact, I think the child's temperament accepted the parent's initiation of independence. There is a huge difference between the two. (Let's just be honest here. The child is almost always in control.)

Finn is very.......attached. This is his personality and temperament. Trying to get anything done that does not involve playing with him is........difficult, if not absolutely impossible. For example, I attempted to sew pillowcases for Mr. F.'s non-standard size pillow. This took months. Finn would allow me to pin or sew one seam a day then he would start grabbing, crying, sobbing, etc. You could only put him off for so long before he would get genuinely distressed. This wasn't just throwing a fit because you didn't get your way. I can ignore that. No, this was, "why have you abandoned me!? why don't you love me anymore."

Now perhaps that difference is that my son is younger and he is so far the only child. This is a significant distinction (the author of the post had two children, one of which was preschool age). Maybe when I am at the stage she is, I will too be able to state that my kids entertain themselves while I work on other things. (Oh please! Let this be the case!) But more and more I am convinced that I, as a parent, have very little control over any given situation. A square peg will not fit into a round hole no matter how hard I may push.

I think it would more realistic to say that, "my child requests my presence on the floor." And so I oblige.

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 13:00:00 +0000

Finn's doll modeling big boy undies

It seems like many people had a nice relaxing break between Christmas and New Years--a nice lull between two big holidays with lots of time off work. I did not. For some reason, I thought that week would be a great week to start potty training Finn. I mean, were had already been housebound for two weeks prior due to his double ear infection and a case of bronchiolitis. Not to mention that I got sick at the end of it as well. Just when we were on the mend and could possible venture out into the clean, outside air, I decided to sentence us to a few more weeks of immobility--because I am a planner like that. And honestly, who DOESN'T want to spend their holidays potty training one's toddler??? It ended up working out since most of our weekly activities were on hiatus as well. Mr. F. had the decency to get sick so as to spell me a bit on the CONSTANT VIGILANCE pee monitoring.

So do you want to hear all about it? Because now I have suffered through it, you must too.

I went completely cold turkey on the diapers. Monday afternoon after nap, I stripped Finn down and let him run around naked while I sent Mr. F. out to buy some undies. My text message to him? "Get lots." The first couple of days, I had Finn in underwear--because I am a bit of a prude and the idea of having a kid of mine run around butt naked just felt too redneck for me (not to mention a bit unsanitary). However, while Finn started learning bladder control and going longer between accidents, he really didn't seem to make the connection that he needed to pee IN THE POTTY. So, I accepted the inevitable and let him run around naked from then on.

Having him naked made a huge difference. I was able at that point to catch him midstream and put him on the potty. It didn't take him long after that for him to make the connection that "pee goes in the potty!!!" and soon (by day 4 or 5) he was telling us that he needed to go. Now he will at times go unassisted or unprompted. It makes my little mother's heart proud.

The first few days though were rough. I initially thought that perhaps Finn might not "be ready" despite me not believing in potty readiness. He really fought sitting on the potty, especially when it was obvious that he needed to go. We resorted to bribing him with raisins just to get him to SIT on the potty, regardless on the outcome. Then, for every elimination in the potty, he got a sticker. Those seemed to be decent enough bribes for him. And once he saw how happy we were when he went pee in the potty--that really helped. Of course now that he has felt "a healthy breeze around [his] privates," he is a bit loathe to wear underwear, so we are tackling that now. (Because I just won't be that kind of household!)

We have ventured out twice. Once to the store (dry), and once to church (wet). I have to figure out how to make Finn comfortable enough to pee on the big, scary public toilets--perhaps get a travel seat that attaches. Who knows. Most likely though I will continue to hunker down at home until I feel like he has a bit more control. Any advice from parents who have been there done that?

Finn is a bit young (21 months), but I am glad we are doing this now. I really just felt like it was time. He was vocalizing when he had pooped his diaper and sometimes when his diaper was too wet. He also was making diaper changes a big Pain In The A--. "You don't want to wear diapers, kid? Fine. No more Mr. Nice Guy." My friend pointed out that older kids tend to be sassy. From one who is going through this--you don't need a sassy mouth to add to the drama.

So yeah. Good times. Do we know how to celebrate or what?

Doll using his potty. Normally, the underwear would be removed to model appropriate potty procedure.

2011 in Review: Favorite Posts

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 13:00:00 +0000

I have a tab on my blog that lists my favorite posts by year. I thought now would be an appropriate time to review what I wrote in 2011. This went fairly quickly since the blog last year was pretty stagnant. I wrote a grand total of 40 posts (compared to 92 in 2010). I did not have a lot of time for writing. Or if I did have the time, I was too burnt out to make an effort. The word to describe 2011 for me: exhaustion. There were a number of posts about motherhood as I struggled to accustom myself to this new role, including a couple of "ah ha" moments where I started defining my own parenting philosophy. I definitely saw a dearth in creative posts--the proverbial well of imagination having run dry. Looking back on posts of past years, I find myself terribly funny. Not so much with 2011. In fact, sometimes I worry about my ability to be witty. Perhaps Finn has sucked that out of me along with gallons of milk and a few pounds.

I came up with three posts that I liked. Unfortunately they all sort of follow the same format. Must work on that for 2012.

February 25: Feisty is the new frisky
March 8: Evening, interrupted
April 18: Crime against humanity

2011 in Review: Favorite Pictures

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 13:00:00 +0000

A friend of mine did this, and I thought it was a brilliant idea. Of course when I reviewed our pictures, I wished that we had more of them to choose from. I take a lot of pictures for any one occasion, but those occasions are not so frequent. I like the idea of taking a picture a day, but I am not sure I can commit myself to that. Maybe once a week. In any case, I think that I have decided upon a New Year's Resolution that sounds actually enjoyable: take more pictures.

More of my favorites here.

2011 in Review: Favorite Books

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Mon, 02 Jan 2012 13:00:00 +0000

I read 42 books this year--12 more than last year's paltry 30. I guess that should be a good as sign as any that I am slowly getting more time to myself. Or maybe it is because I got a pair of wireless headphones, and I can listen to books while I spend way too much of my time trying to put Finn to bed. Who knows.

In chronological order from the beginning of the year to the end, here are my favorite books of 2011:

The Forgotten Garden: This is one of the few written-for-adults books where I didn't have to worry about language, sex, what have you. It is just a really good multi-generational story involving some mystery and romance--good, solid story telling.

Born to Run: Now I wouldn't consider myself a serious runner, but this book is absolutely fascinating. The book picks apart the general consensus of the sports medicine community which states that man is not evolved to run and so one should expect injuries if one persist in running a lot. Science is interwoven with some really good story telling of The Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen. I couldn't stop talking about it and in the end converted my sister and husband to barefoot running.

Leviathan Series: This series competes with the Harry Potter series as the best audiobook series ever. Alan Cumming is absolutely brilliant as the narrator. Of course to have a great audiobook, you have to have a great story. I fell in love with Alek and Deryn.

Real Food: This book really helped move us towards a more traditional foods approach (versus just a local/organic/mostly vegetable approach.) Little did we know how much this would come in handy a few months down the road when we switched to a gut-healing diet. The raw milk chapter sort of blew my mind, and Mr. F. and I were almost convinced to buy some on the black market. But then we chickened out.

Moon Over Manifest: this is such a wonderful children's/YA book. It is the type of book you put on your list of "books to give my child someday in order to foster a love of reading."

Okay for Now: Such a great coming of age book. Gary Schmidt is a genius in the way he is able to bring so many dissimilar elements (Moon exploration, Jane Eyre, Baseball, Audubon paintings, etc) together in a completely coherent manner.

Uncommon Criminals: This was just a fun book to listen to. Pure reading/listening entertainment. This is the second book in the series, the first being Heist Society. I find Hale to be dreamy.

Unwind: I read a number of Young Adult dystopian novels, but this was perhaps the best of the bunch. It is a bit more disturbing than the others, a factor of the author being male, I think. It is told from the perspective of three different kids. And the best part, I felt like the book came to some sort of completion even though there is a sequel planned. No annoying cliff hangers.

Raising Your Spirited Child and Sleepless in America: These books really changed my mind about parenting and helped me deal better with my son.

What Alice Forgot: A fun and well-written chick book.

The virus that stole Christmas

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 17:02:00 +0000

Last week, Finn picked up a virus at the Leper Colony--also known as Nursery by people at church. Pretty soon, I will stop sending him there. I think heathenism might be preferable to the constant onslaught to our immune systems.

At first I thought it was just a cold, but I got concerned after day five of his having a fever and a worsening cough. This last Monday we went to the doctor's and got the diagnosis: double ear-infection and bronchiolitis. Given that antibiotics take a few days to kick in for the ear infection, bronchiolitis cases normally last about 12 days, and I haven't slept in about a week and can feel the beginning of something coming on, I made the decision to stay home for Christmas instead of traveling to my sister's like originally planned.

Part of me was relived by this decision. I wouldn't have to stress about Finn sleeping poorly at my sister's while just recovering from his illness. I wouldn't have to try to entertain a less-than-healthy child in a car seat for a 6+ hour drive. But another part of me was really sad--I was really looking forward to the Christmas chaos with lots of kids yelling excitedly about their presents. Too add to the gloom, we haven't decorated at all (since we were planning on being away) and so now it feels like Christmas has been canceled all together. Yesterday I pitifully hung up a handful of ornaments on our two tree-like house plants in an attempt to bring some Christmas cheer. I also pulled out our mismatched stockings but then got depressed about how I don't have anything to put in them.

There was a part of me that looked forward to having Christmas with just our own little family. But that was when I was healthy and had the energy to be excited about developing our own traditions as a family. This will not be that Christmas. This Christmas we will devoting our efforts to fending off the plague.

Another step closer to living off the grid

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 12:42:00 +0000

We are sensitive souls with sensitive skin around these parts. Sometimes finding fragrance, dye, and chemical free products is a challenge. Let's take bar soap for example. Prior to this summer, we were happy users of Dove sensitive skin soap. It cleaned and was scent free. Then, our tricky CSA owners ran a Mother's Day special: free handcrafted soap with the week's produce box! I picked up an unscented bar, took it home, and gave it a go.

Have you ever used pure soap? Soap that only contains water, oil, and lye? We noticed an immediate difference. Homemade soap is much less drying, even compared to Dove which contains “1/4 moisturizing lotion.” I guess you don’t need moisturizing lotion if using natural ingredients. So of course we couldn’t go back to using commercial soap. We tried, but I felt so itchy and desiccated after that first shower. That was the evil plan of the CSA owners in the first place. Lure them in with free stuff and then make them pay. Home-crafted soap is severely marked up in price. The average around these parts is about a dollar an ounce which equates to a $5 bar of soap. That is a pretty steep price for something that ends up in the drain.

You know it was only a matter of time.

After dropping too much money on handcrafted soap, we invested in some soap making supplies and started making our own soap. Here is some partial documentation of our first run.

Our Reference Guide. A Good resource.

Donning protective gear. Lye is a hazardous chemical after all.

Measuring out the lye.

Adding the lye to the water.

Initial temperature of the lye water.

The oils we used: olive, palm, and coconut.


The initial temperature of the oils

Next comes probably the most important step of the process. Once the lye and the oils have reached about the same temperature (80-100 degrees), you add the lye water to the oils and mix with an immersion blender until you reach the mythical state of "trace." When trace is reached, you pour the mixture into the soap mold and let it incubate for 24 hours before cutting.

However, as you can see, it was going to take a while for the lye to come down in temperature. It was late, and I valued my sleep more than I valued complete documentation. (Besides, if you are really interested in making your own soap, you need to read more than just this post.) So I left Mr. F. with a hour or so more of work while I high-tailed it to dreamland.

Soap in mold after incubation.

Cut bars ready to "cure" 4 to 6 weeks before use.

One batch yielded about 16 bars of soap. Not so shabby. My inner squirrel was very pleased. We are currently halfway through our first bar and have no complaints whatsoever. Yes, it is another thing to add to our already crazy lives, however, at least we only have to do it once a quarter or so. Our skin and our pocketbook thanks us.

My Parenting Guru

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Mon, 12 Dec 2011 13:00:00 +0000

I have met my parenting guru. O.k., so I haven’t actually met her in person, but I have been introduced to her work and have now become a disciple to her way of parenting. The person is Mary Sheedy Kurcinka, and I want her to come live next door so that I can have her at my beck and call.

I have already mentioned one of her books, Sleepless in America, which was pretty life-changing and helped me to understand a bit better why Finn has such a difficult time falling asleep. This last book that I read, Raising Your Spirited Child, was equally illuminating. Midway through the book, I turned to Mr. F. and insisted that he take time to read it. “This is the way I want to parent. This is what I want our parenting philosophy to be.” Yes, it is geared towards children who are “more intense, persistent, sensitive, perceptive, and uncomfortable with change than normal children” which seems to apply to Finn, however, I think that anyone who read this book and applied it’s principles would be better parents.

The overwhelming impression I got from her methods was one of respect. Respect your child and his temperament. It is not pandering to set your child up for success. She also encourages parents to work with their children to come to solutions that work out for both parent and child.

How can you work out a solution with a 20 month old? It is possible. I read this in the book and got to try it out with Finn the next day. Up to this point, I usually sat Finn on my lap to put shoes and socks on before heading outside. However, recently he had been fighting me on this. Had I not read this section, I might have just powered through. “I am the parent; we are putting socks on; I will forcibly place you and keep you on my lap because I don’t have time for this.” However, I decided to try a different approach. For whatever reason, Finn likes to sit on steps. Perhaps it makes him feel like a big kid. So, I asked him if I could put his shoes and socks on while he sat on the step. Worked like a charm. He thoroughly enjoyed siting down and having me put his shoes and sock on. This is a win/win for both of us. He retains some independence, and I get his shoes and socks on in a fairly timely manner.

Basically, Kurcinka asks you to disengage from the power struggle and to evaluate what the real issue is in any given situation. Also, she asks you as a parent to be aware of your child’s temperament and to work with it. If your child is an extrovert, make sure he has lots of interactions with other children. If an introvert, make sure he has a break where he can recharge. If he is uncomfortable with change, brainstorm ideas that might make the transition easier. By being aware of your child’s temperament not only do you help them be successful, but you teach them how to appropriately respond and behave when placed in trying circumstances.

Like I said, I am in love. Her methods really resonated with me, especially as I am discovering that conventional parenting techniques just do not work with Finn. The copy of the book I read I had checked out from the library. However, I am definitely going to purchase one to have as a constant reference.

1.8 out of 5 stars

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Sat, 10 Dec 2011 01:10:00 +0000

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Having to make everything from scratch (even your own juice people!) dirties up a lot of dishes. It seems like the dishwasher is always running, or needing to be run, or needing to be unloaded so that we can run it again. With the increase in washing, I admit to becoming more exacting in my dishwasher expectations. I don't want to see dried on crusty bits when I am unloading the dishes. This means more work for me as I have to scrub off stubborn food particles and less retail space in the next dishwasher load (and as we already mentioned, space is becoming more and more limited, because the dirty dishes are breeding like rabbits!)

At first I thought it might be the soap, as we use the hippie stuff that doesn't kill baby animals. We switch between our homemade version and Seventh Generation. Both have their faults. The homemade version may not clean quite as well but the Seventh Generation does not rinse cleanly. We have to run two rinse cycles after a wash and still get some soap residue. In any case, we have been pre-rinsing our dishes to remove every single food particle and then throwing them in the dishwasher to.....I don't know, sanitize? Doesn't that seem like a lot of extra work to you?

So I started googling green dish detergents, hoping for a breakthrough. Perhaps I just needed to find the miracle product that would solve all my problems.

I came across this article which basically states that all green detergents are pretty much equal. So that wasn't helpful. I then read Katie's dishwasher detergent search at Kitchen Stewardship, and it dawned on me as I looked at her dirty dishes that I wouldn't dare try to wash, that perhaps it wasn't the soap that was the problem but the dishwasher itself.

I came to Mr. F. with my conclusions, and he looked at me like I was the slow, bumbling Watson who figures out the case 10 chapters too late.

So, I guess it would be a good time to mention that I don't think I have ever lived in a place with a decent dishwasher. Perhaps my parents' washer was o.k. but that was 15 years ago, and I am pretty sure washers have improved since then. I have no concept of what normal dishwasher capacity looks like. I mean, the idea that I wouldn't need to rinse off the food AT ALL? This blows my mind.

So, now that I have clued in to the fact that our dishwasher is complete crap, Mr. F. is all gung ho about upgrading. For kicks, we decided to look up our current dishwasher's rating and reviews to have for comparison. On one review site, our dishwasher averages 1.8 stars (of 5) out of 93 reviews. Apparently 21 of those reviewers can't think of anything they like about it. This is one of our favorite reviews although the language is a bit excessive:

I HATE this dishwasher. I now hate the people I rent from because they equipped my apartment with this dishwasher. It's slowly but surely destroying my piece of mind. F*** you, GE quiet power 3.

"Slowly but surely destroying my piece of mind?" Yes indeed.

Any glowing recommendations out there?

Jumping on the bandwagon and telling you about our weekend

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 00:09:00 +0000

So, I had a post all started on Wednesday night about our Thanksgiving dinner plans, and then I somehow changed screens and lost it.

(This makes me sound extremely incompetent in using my computer. It is just that we have this new-fangled apple mouse that with a swipe of a finger goes back a screen. I can’t seem to change screens on purpose but accidentally, I do it all the time. There. I have just now confirmed my incompetence.)

Anyway. I lost my post, and with it I lost my will to write.

We actually celebrated Thanksgiving on Friday like a bunch of heathens. It made me a bit smug on Thursday to read all the stressful Facebook status updates regarding dinner prep while lounging around eating leftovers. However, we paid the piper the next day.

Mr. F.’s sister and family came up (hence a Friday celebration), and Finn found a long lost play buddy in his Aunt. He was glued to her side for practically the entire duration of their stay. Twice he thought she was leaving and was moved to sobs. I don’t even rate those kind of sobs. I would feel kind of jealous if I didn’t enjoy so much having a break and going to the bathroom by myself with the door closed. Finn also discovered an awesome toy. These things are great, in that they can be appreciated by all ages. Finn was able to stack them easily (unlike other toys like chunky legos where he has trouble manipulating the pieces.) He was so involved in playing with them that he didn’t even want to get ready to go to the park. Obviously, I need to get a hold of a set as they might be the ticket to some independent play. (Actually, probably not since he did need some assistance from me. Blast.)

The dinner itself went pretty well. We brined a turkey. (I am thoroughly convinced this is the only way to cook a turkey.) We then ate roasted green beans, a fruit salad, butternut squash puree and for desert attempted a variation on these sour cream pumpkin puddings.

That is when things went awry.

We had to make the puddings GAPS friendly which meant subbing honey for the sugar (not a problem) and using yogurt and creme fraiche for the milk and sour cream respectively. I think the yogurt was the issue. The puddings had a bit of a tang that was not expected and not really appealing. Sigh. It really bothers me to have a bad dessert. Mr. F. was able to roll with the punches but I was thrown into “the depths of despair.”

And because the weekend wasn’t crazy enough, we decided to transition Finn to a bed--a twin mattress on the floor. I am not sure how I feel about his new found freedom. This morning he came toddling into our room while I was in the bathroom putting my contacts in. I had the video monitor with me and could have sworn that he was still in bed. But I guess that was just a lump of blankets. (Let the subterfuge begin.)

And to top everything off, I didn’t take any pictures. (But hey! I took pictures at Halloween but then didn't post about it!) Memories were happening but I was to overwhelmed to want to try to capture them (And Mr. F. was too busy in the kitchen). It is at these times where I wish I could just hire a photographer to come and to capture the moments. But that just seems a bit silly. And too expensive.

Conquering Fears

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 16:37:00 +0000

For a while now, I have had a fear of making mayonnaise from scratch.

Being the sort of people who like to see if they can make all things food related from scratch just for kicks, we had already attempted this feat. Twice. The first time Mr. F. attempted to make mayonnaise by hand using a whisk. It was unsuccessful and his hand fell off. (Or close to it.) The second try involved using a food processor. However, we had no patience to drizzle in the oil a drop at a time, and the end result was subsequently doomed. Needless to say, we have been gun shy ever since.

When Mr. F. went corn and soy free, it really limited our mayonnaise options. Now, we don't eat a lot of mayonnaise, but sometimes you just want the option of a chicken salad, you know? So, we scoured high and low and finally found ONE option that did not contain either corn and soy. Phew! I went and bought a few jars to have on hand.

*Cue foreboding music*

So on this new diet of ours, we are sugar (except for honey) and grain free. I took a peak at our special mayonnaise the other day and was disapointed to find that it contained evaporated cane juice. Blast! That meant that if we wanted to be in full compliance we would have to resort to making our own. Double Blast!

It turns out we are not the only GAPSters (I totally just made that up right now. It is probably not unique) to be intimidated by the prospect of making our own mayonnaise. However, the word on the proverbial street indicated that there was a pretty fail-proof method involving an immersion blender. (I could wax rhapsodic about my immersion blender, but perhaps that should be saved for another post. Thank you Yola for ours.) There were a number of people who linked to this youtube video:

Let me tell you people. This method is AMAZING. It works, and it is super easy and fast. If I knew it was this easy, I would be making mayonnaise from scratch years ago*. I feel so strongly about this that I am devoting an ENTIRE POST to it. (Or maybe it is because I have nothing else of import to write about.) Whatever, go forth and make mayonnaise!

*I did not actually use the recipe in this video. I pieced together something else using a couple of different sources. You do want to use a neutral oil unless you know you really dig something stronger like olive, etc.

Consumed....

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Fri, 18 Nov 2011 01:26:00 +0000

By Food:

We have drastically changed what we eat. Again. And yes, it is even more limiting. This makes it the third time in a year and half that we have overhauled our diets. It started with my celiac diagnosis, next we added Mr. F.'s corn and soy allergies, and now this. This change is for healing purposes and somewhat temporary (months to years), but is still absorbing and time consuming as I figure out a new way to plan and fix meals. Not to mention that what little we could purchase at the store already made has now completely gone out the window. Mr. F. and I literally spend our spare time foraging for and prepping food. I am sure that I will talk more about it as I get a better grip on the logistics.

By Sleeplessness:

I survived the week long disruption that accompanied the time change. (Having a child who needs a structured sleep schedule has firmly put me in the "I hate Daylight Savings Time" camp.) But, now it appears that Finn is working on a molar. What joy.

By Life:

In the midst of everything, I have to keep from living in squalor. So, I do laundry, clean the bathrooms (but not often enough), vacuum (ditto), and obsess about the fact that I should wash my walls, but WHO DOES THAT?

A well-crafted sentence

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Sat, 29 Oct 2011 16:13:00 +0000

I somehow missed the 2011 winners of the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest this year when they were announced in July. I guess that is what happens when you don't spend copious amounts of time on the internet trying to avoid work.

(However looking back in the archives, I have only mentioned this contest once....in 2007. So, perhaps I have some catching up to do).

I actually really liked the winner and runner-up this year. (Although I think I prefer the runner-up sentence a bit more.) I have also included some others which I thought were particularly clever.

I keep thinking that I should attempt a blog post prior to the contest deadline to see if I (and any of my readers) can come up with some worthy entries. However, that requires some sort of forethought and my fore-thinking abilities have been somewhat shoddy of late.

Winner:

Cheryl’s mind turned like the vanes of a wind-powered turbine, chopping her sparrow-like thoughts into bloody pieces that fell onto a growing pile of forgotten memories.

Runner Up:

As I stood among the ransacked ruin that had been my home, surveying the aftermath of the senseless horrors and atrocities that had been perpetrated on my family and everything I hold dear, I swore to myself that no matter where I had to go, no matter what I had to do or endure, I would find the man who did this . . . and when I did, when I did, oh, there would be words.

Others:

Wearily approaching the murder scene of Jeannie and Quentin Rose and needing to determine if this was the handiwork of the Scented Strangler--who had a twisted affinity for spraying his victims with his signature raspberry cologne--or that of a copycat, burnt-out insomniac detective Sonny Kirkland was sure of one thing: he’d have to stop and smell the Roses.

As his small boat scudded before a brisk breeze under a sapphire sky dappled with cerulean clouds with indigo bases, through cobalt seas that deepened to navy nearer the boat and faded to azure at the horizon, Ian was at a loss as to why he felt blue.

No one walked down Bleak Street at night—not where hobgoblins hobnobbed, skeletons skulked, vampires vamped, and the dumpster behind the Chinese buffet smelled like zombies.

All the signs, both actual and imagined, made it immensely clear there was trouble ahead for Marlene and, yet, her childlike sense of hope that maybe he was “the one” kept her foot on the accelerator pedal of life even when she came to the “bridge out” warning hand written in Magic Marker on Myron’s Polident cup.

The grisly scene before him was like nothing Detective Smith had ever seen before, but there were millions and millions of things he had never seen before, and he couldn't help but wonder which of them it was.

Carmela's knees buckled and she (a responsible consumer) collapsed down onto the sidewalk, as her environmentally green grocery bag bounced -- spewing forth organic mixed lettuces, crispy eco-friendly cucumbers, juicy natural cherry tomatoes, home-grown herbs -- while in perfect synchronization, a recyclable plastic bottle burst open, spraying droplets of Lite-Italian dressing upon the freshly tossed salad.

Introvert/Extrovert

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 00:20:00 +0000

I am reading another parenting book. Although parenting books often give me some insight into my child and his behavior, more often than not, the books leave me contemplating my own personality. My current parenting read has a chapter discussing Introverts and Extroverts and how to identify your own energy source. In the chapter there is sort of a worksheet to help you discover in which camp you fall. You are supposed to count how many statements you agree with in each group. The group with the most true statements indicates whether you draw energy from being with other people (Extrovert) or being alone (Introvert).

Extrovert

want to talk with someone at the end of a busy day
have an immediate answer for a question
want to invite friends over on Friday night.
are comfortable repeating something already said by someone else.
need and like to hear that others love you and like your work.
start to invite a few friends for dinner and realize you've invited the entire neighborhood.
find yourself telling your introverted child to get out of her room and call a few friends.
solve a problem my talking through the solution with someone else.
feel comfortable initiating a conversation.
call for the babysitter.
are comfortable revealing personal things about yourself.
frequently leave a party chastising yourself for talking too much and not listening.
enjoy and need to interact with other people and feel exhausted when you have spent too much time alone or only with young children.
immediately share a new idea or experience with someone and find joy and energy in the telling.

Introvert

sit down with the newspaper or zone out in front of the television after a hard day.
will do anything, even clean the toilets, if someone else with agree to call the sitter.
can't imagine wanting to invite a group over on Friday night.
find being in a large group for an extended period of time exhausting.
share personal information only with those who are very close to you. It may not be unusual for a long-term friend to exclaim, "I never knew that about you!"
think before answering a question, often berating yourself for not sharing an answer you knew.
frequently have extroverts ask you the same question twice because they interpret your pause to think as ignorance of the question.
prefer dinner with the family or one special friend, rather than with the whole neighborhood.
find yourself hiding in the bathroom or back bedroom at large family gatherings.
solve a problem by thinking it through yourself before ever talking about it with anyone else.
get tired of telling extroverts what a wonderful job they're doing and how much you love and appreciate them.

So, I did not complete this exercise prior to typing this up. Turns out that I fall squarely in both camps. Which, if I think about it, makes sense. To my introvert friends, I seem to be more in the extrovert camp while to my extrovert friends, I am considered introverted. I like to say that I am just a woman of mystery.

If I think of it solely as an energy source, I would have to say that I recharge my energy bank by being alone--which would classify me as being an Introvert. It also explains my sudden and vehement reaction when Finn refuses to take a nap. The rage and exhaustion is almost overpowering. After reading this section of the book, I realized that nap time is really the only opportunity for me to recharge. I NEED that time to regroup, rest, and recharge before I am on-call until bedtime (and beyond).

This last Saturday, Mr. F. took Finn with him to run some errands. For two hours or so, I had the house to myself for the first time in forever. It was glorious. I turned on some music and had a little dance party--something I haven't done in years. When they came back, I was a new woman (for a little bit at least). I might have to request more opportunities like that.

So what about you? Extrovert or Introvert? Any surprises?

What haunts me about Halloween

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Wed, 05 Oct 2011 12:00:00 +0000

I will be honest with you. Halloween is not my favorite holiday. Sure, I loved it as a child when I got to go trick-or-treating and stock my candy stash for the year. I would save my favorite mini candy bars for last, getting the inferior dum dum lollies and nasty good n' plenties out of the way. I would also spread my consumption over time such that I had candy months after my siblings had eaten all of theirs. However, once I grew out of all the homemade costumes that were handed down from kid to kid, and I had to make up my own costume, my interest in the holiday faded. It was all but extinguished when I reached high school and the coolness factor of your costume was linked to your popularity. The task of 1) thinking of an original costume and then 2) implementing it was (and is) just too much work with no perceivable benefit. Luckily as an adult, I no longer feel the pressure to dress up. I can beg off costume parties and hand out candy in my lounge-wear of choice. I thought I was free and clear of Halloween stress.

Of course, last week I got not one, but two invites to some "Mommy and Baby" Halloween parties. The invites encouraged participants to "dress your little ones in costumes" for the events. "Oh crap!" I thought. Sure, I may have passed the point where I need to stress out about a costume for myself, but now I have to worry about costumes for my child. And it is only going to get worse as he gets older! Not to mention that I have strong bias towards homemade costumes (being that my siblings and I always wore homemade costumes that my mother lovingly sewed) which only adds to my stress, because now I have to hone up on my sewing skills and be all crafty and stuff. Who has time for this? I don't. I am not getting enough sleep to be crafty.

I am sorely tempted to shelve it for another year. I mean, Finn is, after all, only 18 months old. He doesn't have any notion of Halloween. He hasn't even had candy. Or any significant amount of sugar except for what sweetens his oatmeal and yogurt. Is this wrong of me? (I don't know if I want an answer to that.) I did beg a costume from my sister. She has handcrafted her kids' costumes from day one. I figured it is the next best thing from sewing one myself.

Dude. I am just not ready for this "making childhood memories" type stuff. How long can I put off the responsibility?

Identity Crisis

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Mon, 03 Oct 2011 12:10:00 +0000

Sometimes I have a really gross misconception about the life I am actually living. There is this huge disconnect between my actual life and my perceived one.

Actual Life:
2 adults and 1 18-month old.
Townhouse with an almost non-existent yard.
A vegetable and herb garden which are mostly ignored.
No animals

Perceived Life:
2 adults and a half dozen kids of various ages.
A homestead
Obscenely large garden with mounds of produce not to mention a small orchard of various fruit trees.
A cow/goat, chickens, pigs, and who knows what else.

For example, let's say I want to make yogurt. I immediately start thinking in terms of half-gallons and gallons even though Finn and I might share a cup of yogurt every morning, if that. But no, in my mind I have all these phantom children that need their morning yogurt, requiring me to make huge batches of yogurt at any given time.

We recently purchased a food dehydrator (in part to make larger quantities of yogurt than just a quart). I wanted the larger one so that it could handle large batches of drying at one time. What am I going to be dehydrating in such large quantities? I have no idea. There might be a couple times a year when I do large batch preserving: strawberry, cherry, and apple season, for example. But don't try to reason with a mind convinced that the two tomato plants we planted will suddenly take off and proliferate like the crab grass which makes up our lawn.

Part of this is just symptomatic of my inner squirrel: the need to store up for the long and unknown winter. However, I need to be a little more realistic about my family's needs--being just the three of us and not the 6+ phantom kids lurking about in my grey matter. I also need to prevent myself from getting overly influenced by other people's examples. In almost all cases they have 1) a larger family and 2) more access to produce.

Of course I write this as I am in the midst of canning a ridiculous amount of applesauce not to mention drying a significant amount of apple slices. Homestead here we come!

Back in the saddle

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Sat, 01 Oct 2011 16:46:00 +0000

So, I feel like I should start posting again. I want to start posting again. However, after a long break, it is hard to know where to begin. So let's just make a list of what has been going on, o.k.?

I am still nightweaning Finn. But it is a lot better.
We are still eating food.
I am still reading books.
We bought a food dehydrator so that I can 1) make larger batches of yogurt easily, and 2) dehydrate stuff.
We are all about culturing dairy products: buttermilk, yogurt, weird Swedish dairy products.
Our family has been passing around sickness like we are playing a game of tag. Mr. F. is currently "it."
I am up to my armpits in apples. Must do something with them.
Mostly I am trying to get through one day at a time.

The muse has forsaken me. I think it is fueled off of my sleep and general well-being which have been severely depleted. I need inspiration. I need a place to begin again. What do YOU want to hear about?

My goal for this week

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Thu, 18 Aug 2011 16:43:00 +0000

"Try not to go crazy this week, o.k.?"

That was Mr. F.'s plea on Sunday, and a serious one at that. Things have been rough around this household lately.

I had a conversation with my sister about a month ago which convinced me that I needed to start nightweaning Finn. She made me realize that it was not healthy for me to continue getting sleep in only 3 hour stretches or less. The time had come to "take back the night" so to speak. Also, I felt like now would be a good time for Finn as well. He was no longer teething and had started showing that he could fall asleep without nursing. Another friend encouraged me to start as well. Her experience found that nightweaning around 16 months was easier than waiting until a child was older. So, I took a deep breath and took the plunge.

It was both better and worse than I expected. I had prepared myself for epic hour-long screaming battles where I would attempt to sooth Finn without nursing. That was not the case. While he fussed and was upset, the duration of these outbursts were fairly short. (The exception to this was when he was honestly hungry, not having eaten well during the day.) What I wasn't prepared for was the duration of this process. Two weeks after I had started, Finn was still waking up 4 times a night at least, despite the fact that he wasn't nursing for at least two of those times. (I felt the best nightweaning approach for Finn would be to pick a stretch of time (first 7 hours) that we would not nurse and then nurse after that time had passed. I would then gradually try to extend that time.) Every forum I visited and everything I read had prepared me for a week or so of crappy sleep followed by the bliss of the well-rested. I felt seriously short-changed. Two weeks in, and I still couldn't see things getting better. The end of the second week found me very despondent. I believed that I would never get a good night's rest again.

By the third week though, things started to improve. There were nights that Finn only woke once in the early morning to nurse. Hope was on the horizon.

This is not the end of the story. You know that right? Something always seems to derail well laid plans and expectations.

Finn came down with Roseola. This meant four days of high temperatures, fussiness, lack of appetite, and utterly crap sleep. Even after the fever broke, Finn still wasn't himself, and sleep was patchy. You can imagine what effect this had on me. I came into the illness completely drained of any sort of reserve due to my sleep deprivation of the past three weeks. Another week of no sleep left me all sorts of unwell. I was not a fun person to be around. I was not a good mother. I was not a good wife. I felt myself unraveling. It was sort of scary. I have never been in that place before.

Mr. F. has been great dealing with Finn and I--taking some time off work to help out. However, he really did need me to take some sort of preventable action. "Please try to nap while Finn is napping, " he said. "Even if it is only 20 minutes." So that is what I have been doing. I have been napping. And even when it is only 20 minutes, it helps.

I have also started the nightweaning process again. Although we are still in the early stages, I feel like we are progressing and perhaps at a quicker pace than before. One can only hope. In the meantime, I am working on my goal: "to not go crazy."

I don't think rational thinking is too much to ask

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 00:17:00 +0000

While I guess there are some perks to where we live (i.e. my husband's job--being that he has one that he likes), I can't say that Mr. F. and I are ready to set down roots and call it home. One of the biggest deterrents to this place I would say is the complete lack of common sense and rational thought. This failing can be found many places, but it is quite prevalent in the city planning, or lack there of.

First, there are no shoulders on the road. While not life changing in and of itself, coupled with the fact that there are no sidewalks to speak of and suddenly, you find yourself in a situation where you risk your life and limb if you propose going someplace other than in a vehicle. (Don't get me started on public transportation). If there are sidewalks, they suddenly end. Randomly. Mid-block. And if you were so silly as to attempt to get someplace via a sidewalk, you now must resort to walking on a road. Where there is no shoulder. And in an area where they seem to give driver's licenses to anyone who asks for one.

But that isn't my current pet peeve. My current pet peeve is that people here seem to be against shade. I live in the South people! (Would Mid-Atlantic be more appropriate? Whatever.) It gets hot here in the summer. And the summer seems to drag on and on unlike in other places in the country. And if the heat wasn't bad enough, there is the humidity to consider. It would seem to me that shade would be a hot commodity. It drops 10 degrees in the shade. That is like a tall cool drink of water.

They have trees here, but either they plant trees that are strictly ornamental with no other purpose in life than to look pretty for 2 weeks of the year, or they take decent tall trees and prune them such that they look like large shrubbery, which as you can imagine, provide little to no shade. The greatest scene of travesty? Playgrounds. None of the playgrounds in this little part of the world is shaded. NONE. What were the Parks and Rec people thinking?! (Answer: they weren't thinking. See whole premise of this post.) You have to walk yards to get to the nearest tree from any of the playgrounds. And all of the playgrounds are covered in black rubbery mulch or mats from used tires so it acts pretty much like asphalt and absorbs all the heat. And of course the plastic play equipment just bakes all day in the sun so your child can get second-degree burns from just sliding down the slide.

*takes deep breath*

Can you tell that I have a rambunctious toddler at home that I would love to take to the park to burn off some energy? However, going to the park is akin to jumping into a raging inferno (or just a really hot oven). It's not much fun. Which is why we haven't been too often. We have tried to beat the heat, but when it is 80+ degrees at 8 o'clock in the morning......we would be better off going in the dead of night.

Like I said, no rational thought. And I would like to say that this failing was limited to road and park construction, but it isn't. I think I must quote Jane:

"The more I see of [this place], the more am I dissatisfied with it."

Show-Off

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Mon, 08 Aug 2011 15:41:00 +0000

[Image]

On the weekends after Finn has woken up for the day, nursed, and had his diaper changed, Mr. F. will often take over so that I can grab a couple more hours of much needed sleep. He likes to take this opportunity to get a ridiculous amount of stuff done--seemingly as if to say, "I totally rock this single parent gig. I don't know what your problem is." In this semi-brief window of time, he has been known to take a walk/run with Finn in the stroller, finish washing the diapers, fold a couple loads of laundry, organize part of the downstairs, and eat breakfast.

This weekend, I came down Sunday morning to find that they had gone on a fairly substantial walk around the neighborhood, and now Mr. F. was mid-batch into making pancakes. Pancakes! Is he trying to make me look bad?

In my defense, I guess you can get a lot more done when A) you are actually sleeping at night and B) your child isn't demanding that you hold him 24/7. (Finn knows that Dad can't hold him as long as Mom can and so is less demanding to see everything Dad is doing. I, on the other hand, have learned how to do many daily tasks one-handed.)

But I shouldn't complain. I felt great after the extra sleep and the pancakes were delish.

He's the scullery maid, and I am the hall boy.

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Sun, 07 Aug 2011 01:01:00 +0000

The evenings this past week or so have been spent catching bits and pieces of Manor House--A show that was produced some eight-odd years ago. It was a new sort of reality show, where modern 21st Century people volunteered to live life as Edwardians in and Edwardian Manor house. I hazily recall my sister recommending to me at the time, but of course it was during a time that I didn't have cable, and it wasn't available online. Now, the entire show happens to be on Youtube.

As you might imagine, certain participants of the project enjoyed their three month experience more so than others. The scullery maid, the lowest ranking staff, proved to be the most difficult role to cast as most 21st Century women objected to washing dishes, cleaning the kitchen, and tending the stove 16 hours a day. I would recommend viewing it, if you are looking for something new to watch.

As we watched the show, Mr. F. and I couldn't help notice the similarities between the duties of the lowest ranking servants (the scullery maid and the hall boy) to the activities that take up most of our time. Mr. F., for example, comes home from work and then spends the next four hours cooking dinner, doing the dishes, starting the laundry, and cleaning the living room all before crashing in bed exhausted. His duties sound remarkably like those of a scullery maid. I, on the other hand, relate more to the hall boy. I have to clean chamber pots (clean the bathrooms, dump training toilets, change soiled diapers), make sure the young master of the house (Finn) is fed all meals on time, run errands, help in housekeeping, etc. Also, the Hall boy has the added bonus of not actually having a room of his own. He sleeps, get this, in the hall. As you may know, I spend very little time sleeping in my own bed, so I like to think that I can relate. I mean, having a bed in the hall would actually be more convenient because then I wouldn't have so far to travel in the middle of the night. Like the hall boy, after an exhausting day of looking after people, cleaning, running around, etc., I have "the remaining part of the evening [to] be spent at [my] leisure" which is pretty much code for "passing out in bed."

So there you go. Mr. F. and I are pretty much living the life of Edwardian servants. Brilliant.

Oh, and just for kicks, I took the "Snob Test" to see how I fared. This was the reply:

You haven’t quite cut that snob mustard, Lady Susan. Being 48% snob doesn’t make you properly stuck up but nor does it condemn you to burn in middle-class hell. Unless you want to hang in snob limbo forever, brush up on those P’s and Q’s, buy yourself some fruit knives and start lying about your education quick.

Must start climbing that social ladder!

My Maine Experience

noreply@blogger.com (Lady Susan) — Wed, 27 Jul 2011 23:59:00 +0000

We went to Maine for our summer vacation. I think I would like to live in Maine--with all of its quaint hamlets and bucolic scenes. On entering Maine, guests are met with a sign: The Way Life Should Be. I wholeheartedly concur.

Two weeks post vacation and I am starting to forget the not so great aspects of the trip: the 4+ days (of 7 total for the vacation) of driving; Finn's inability to sleep, subsequent exhaustion, and croup; and Finn's five days of post-vacation demonic rage before transforming back into our nice little boy. Instead I am reminiscing on the smell of the salty sea water, the feel of the breeze, the feel of sand between my fingers, and the great view of the harbor outside our hotel window.

However, there remains one aspect of vacation where I still feel considerably short changed: the chance to indulge in my new found love of blueberries. (I know! It has taken me 30-odd years to get here!) Every restaurant in Maine boasts of blueberry pie, blueberry muffins, blueberry pancakes. All deadly to a poor Celiac like myself. One of the first things I had Mr. F. make on returning home was blueberry pancakes. These to be exact. They were wonderful, but not enough to soothe my wounded soul.

I have a friend who is from Maine. On one of his trips back home with his wife, they stopped at Moody's Diner--a Maine Icon. He looked at the menu, trying to decide which menu item would best represent all that Moody's and Maine had to offer for his wife to try. The 4-berry pie? The blueberry pancakes? He finally decided on the pie. He watched her as she ate. You see, he is also Celiac and can no longer partake of Moody's finest.

I was determined to see Moody's on our trip up north. I wanted to the full Maine experience. (And I wanted this t-shirt).

We didn't have a lot of time to spend as we had a full day's worth of driving and a very fractious child, but we determined that we had time for pie (and isn't there always time for pie?) I watched as Mr. F. bit into the flaky crust, the dark, ruby juices spilling forth.

Lady Susan: Well?
Mr. F.: Oh! This is horrible pie. Horrible.

He then proceeded to gobble up said pie with extreme alacrity. His enthusiasm made me suspicious.

Lady Susan: You can tell me your honest opinion. I won't be sad. Well.....not too sad.
Mr. F.: This is one of the best pies I have had in a long, long time.

Can you see where this is going? I felt like I needed to have 4-Berry Pie if my Maine experience was going to be complete. This weekend I finally made it.

It was divine. It was worth the three days that it took to finally complete the project (Day 1: Crust. Day 2: Drain frozen berries. Day 3: Assemble and bake pie. Baking is hard with a toddler. Especially one that doesn't want mama to do anything besides Play! With! Me!) I asked Mr. F. how it compared to the famous Moody's pie......as you might guess, Moody's was still the preferred pie. He did graciously conceded mine was pretty good too. (It was good enough for him to eat his half!) Obviously, though, I have some more baking to do. Mmmm. Pie.