Sweetness

I think nearly-three might be the perfect age for trick-or-treating. We hit about six houses with the cousins, visited one dear neighbor, and spent the rest of the evening at Two's house chatting and eating La Casita tamales imported from Colorado. She was in absolute heaven, and so was Tiny, and so was I.
Princess Bumble Bee
..and the Tiny Hunny Pot
All treats here! Princess H and Tiny with their cousins the Cowboy, Sir Tomkins, and the Friendly Lion.


Maybe I'll post a more decent picture when I unload my grown-up camera....

A Halloween Snack

The babes are sleeping in preparation for a night of revelry.

Before I put them down, we enjoyed these lovelies, along with some orange tomatoes and Costco shrimp cocktail (as we know, the Princess' new favorite). I figure it was a good way to start the day, since it's sure to end in some sort of sugar-induced madness...

If she's this excited about hard boiled eggs, just think what's going to happen when she goes trick-or-treating for the very first time in a couple hours!

More pictures tonight!

A Reminder From Jill Sobule

My favorite Halloween song of all time.

Hey,




I think there should be a holiday called Thanksweemas.
It would be a family costume dinner with presents.
Turkeys would come down the chimney and ask you for treats.
You'd carve faces into yams with a sharpened candy-cane.

Think about it.

Distraction

Recently I've been very easily distracted--and not by bad things, but by everything. This isn't normal for me. I'm usually pretty good at working on what I'm supposed to when I should. I don't know what it is (perhaps the nasty throat infection?), but for some reason, my ability to focus is a little less developed than it used to be. Maybe that's why I found this video so illuminating. I know what you're thinking--and you're right: her outfit is nothing short of appalling. But--if you're able to forgive the nauseatingly hipster apparel--it's kind of hard not to love this little tutorial. 
It opens new doors and makes the battle against distraction seem a little more hopeful. 
So enjoy!
Then get off of your computer and do something worthwhile. 

Infection

They call me monster. 
I, who was once a sister, daughter, friend. 
Foul. Tainted. Terrifying-beast.


What would you give to live forever? Since the beginning of time, humans have longed for the key that unlocks the door to eternal life. And now, we have it. The process is not clean, easy, or aesthetically correct, but it works. You see us as brain-eaters, but what you fail to realize is that we are sharing our gift with the world. With you. We are saviors.

You scream in horror when your contaminated loved one turns on you, attacks you, kills you. When in fact, we are doing what we can to ensure that we will be together. Always.

You say infected.
We say evolved.




So- by way of clarification. I'm not a HUUUUUGE creep.  Last weekend Mama C (mother to my love Sweet C) participated in the Run For You Lives zombie race with us. Well, when I say with, I mean she ran, and we "stumbled." We had a bunch of fun doing it, even though we had to wake up at 4 am to get to the race site. In truth, I think our wake-up time really helped with the character development process...

Anyway, Happy Halloween! Stay safe this weekend, however you are celebrating!



Pumpkin Fondue

Last week, we celebrated Mr. Two's birthday with a lovely autumnal feast.  At the center of said feast were six, small pumpkins stuffed with spices, cream, four kinds of Swiss cheese and toasted french bread.  This was a storied recipe, but not one that had actually ever been used.  It came from the final edition of Gourmet Magazine.  Three found it and was determined to make it.  But year after year passed and somehow, none of us have ever gotten to it.  But when we returned from Hamilton NY, we did so with a load of baby pumpkins from Brother L's visit to the farmer's market.  I decided this was my chance.  I invited Z over (he cooks real good) to help me prep the pumpkins with Mr. Two and the rest... Well... you can see what happened.

You will need:
1 6-7 lb. pumpkin or 3 2lb pumpkins
Heavy Cream (1 cup)
Broth or Wine (1 1/2 cups)
1 day-old loaf (or older) bagette
Olive Oil
A pound of swiss cheese -- coarsely grated. The more kinds you have, the yummier it will be.
Salt , Pepper and Nutmeg

Preheat oven to 350. Clean out the pumpkins well and reserve the tops.  Rub the inside down with olive oil, salt, pepper and nutmeg.  Let sit.  Combine heavy cream and broth or wine and season with a dash of salt, pepper and nutmeg.   Cut bread and toast.  Alternately layer bread, cheese and cream mixture inside of pumpkin until you come to one inch of the top of the pumpkin.  Replace top and place in an oiled pie pan or casserole dish.  Cook for about 2 hours or until the pumpkin is soft and burnished.  Serve with crusty bread, apples, pears and mulled apple cider.

STAY TUNED for some really fantastic things to do with your leftovers from this dish.








Back to School!

Last weekend, Mr. One married his sister! (As in, he officiated at her wedding to a really nice guy to whom she wasn't previously related -- geesh, people!). It was a magical event, so much more so because the entire thing took place right on the campus where Mr. One and I fell in love (the first time). The ceremony was in the Divinity School Chapel, where our amazing Momo (and my delightful sister-in-law) went to grad school. The reception venue was also the venue for the only fancy dinner (then Rather-Distant-Future) Mr. One took me to when we were poor students. We've been back before, but between the wedding and having my little sisters right there living their own experiences so similar to those I loved and love, this visit was particularly poignant and sweet. Fall is the very bast time of year in New Haven, especially when you don't have to worry about midterms and can spend whole days with the people you love most, wandering around old haunts and reminiscing about love-struck teenage selves.

Top 5 Things I Learned (or Remembered) at Yale (this time)  

1) Love is simply grand. Young love; sister love; love getting married; crazy toddler-chasing, sleep-deprived love; love across generations and time and space... Every flavor is different, but each is precious and perfect for its time and season.

The spot where we met, minus the cherry
tree (which is gone), plus two children (!) 

2) Caramel apples don't travel well. Z, our saintly friend Laurie and I made 88 of these hand-picked-by-the Princess, fleur de sel-spiked bad boys to give as favors at the reception. It was kind of awesome. Until it wasn't. Alas.


Not what they looked like at the party...


3) Those chains they have on hotel room doors are actually useful! You can lock small people IN! (Which just might save you from waking up at 6:08 to your husband leaping out of bed and dashing stark nekid down the corridors of the Omni in search of a softly whimpering, bleary-eyed, two-year-old. Not that I would know anything about that....)


Before the Great Escape


4) You can treasure the past without wanting to relive it. I adored virtually every minute of my time in college. Seriously. I felt like the world was my oyster, and that feeling translated into an energy that illuminated my world. Pure exhilaration fueled every late night and crazy scheme. Everything felt important. These days, my life isn't particularly glamorous or exciting. It involves a lot of poop and laundry. But I feel so settled in my happiness. The Big Questions that loomed when I dozed off to sleep in the wee hours of a cold New Haven morning with my face squished into the keyboard of a sweet vintage-1997 laptop have, for the most part, resolved into a life that is more lovely and love-filled than I ever imagined. Yes, it was a magical time. And so is today. Isn't that nice?
They've moved the swing to the other side of Silliman
courtyard, but he was sitting on it (without the baby!)
when he said something like "you know, if we
start dating, I'm going to marry you." :-)

5) Tiny looks awesome in glasses.


P.S. I am a big dork and didn't take pictures of the actual wedding. If you want a peek at the lovely affair, you can see a video here. Princess H likes to watch her little cameo over and over and over again....

Porn For Girls*

Imagine your husband ... cleaning.
G rated doesn't get any hotter than this.

*I am sorry about the name.  The idea of pictures of naked people makes me want to throw up just so said vomit will cover the pictures.  I just was thinking, THIS is something I want to see.  So I called it porn for girls.  But it is not really porn.  Unless you are a girl.

Borrowing

Today, I leave you with an excerpt from a blog more inspired than I:

How to Write Badly Well [<--the blog]
Joel Stickley [<--the blauthor {<-- clever combination of the words 'blogger' and 'author}]

Commit to Cliches [<-- the excerpt]

‘Run like the wind!’ Olaf shouted. ‘The kind of wind that goes very fast in a certain direction, then changes course abruptly to avoid obstacles, whilst taking care not to let itself be caught by its pursuers!’
Anneke glanced over her shoulder. It literally felt as if her heart was in her throat – a thumping knot of muscle lodged just behind her tonsils, pumping blood around her body from its strange new position through arteries which presumably had been rerouted down her throat in some way. She ran as fast as she could, knowing that what pursued her was her worst nightmare – worse than finding herself back at school with no clothes on; worse than her teeth falling out in the middle of a business meeting; worse than not being able to understand what the man in the golden highchair was saying and then noticing that he has the face of her boss but sometimes it’s the face of her old piano tutor and she somehow knows without knowing how she knows that if she gets too close he will shout at her but the room is getting smaller and smaller and her shoes are too tight. It was worse than any of those things and was made even more terrifying by the knowledge that it wasn’t, in fact, a nightmare, but a real thing in her waking life. It was, however, a figurative nightmare, with all the concomitant emotional impact that description suggests (for which, see above).



P.S. Thank you for the birthday love! I had quite an overwhelming amount of it this year. If you ever need someone to legally purchase spray paint for you, I've got your back.

Scrumaging

On Sunday night, I realized that--despite my best efforts--I had been unable to procure any decorations for Five's big 1-8. After scrumaging around our dorm for awhile, I realized I probably wasn't going to find a big bag of brightly colored balloons or a secret stash of rainbow construction paper. But, after a little more digging, I did find several issues of the New York Times, a printer (which was actually just sitting in the middle of our room....), some yarn, and a bit of metallic wrapping paper. Being the reasonable person I am, I decided to make my own decorations...
Word to the wise: for some inexplicable reason, when you start a project at 2am, it takes a lot longer for you to finish than it should normally would. 

What to Wear to a Revolution

I decided to go check out the Occupy DC encampment yesterday.  And as I dressed for work, I laughed and thought "what does one wear to a revolution?" This came to mind, but I opted for something slightly more work appropriate and headed on my way. 


I got there, whipped out my camera, and joined the legions of photographers attempting to capture the energy of the place. There seemed to be a lot of "doing." To my left a large group sat singing and playing guitars, while in the mess tent a bearded man with a kerchief around his mouth prepared for the evening meal. And two by two by two, pairs of people stood engaged in conversation and debate. 

As I crouched to shoot some of the signs laid out a young, clean-cut man approached me. His hair was slicked back across his head and sweat dripped from his ear. He asked me what had brought me here, but his eyes made it clear this wasn't about me, it was about him. So we talked. "I wear many hats" he said in a well rehearsed tone. "I am here to lend a hand, though my personal goals have nothing to do with the movement." Then why come? I asked. And his reply? "Time. I have time to spare, so I came to lend a hand. I wear many hats..." My eyes trailed off, and now instead of doing, I saw time. And a chance to lend a hand. And many hats to wear. Protester. Leader. Revolutionary. Aide. 

In this slice of time I believe there is unity in our aimlessness. It's easy to write out a list of things that need to change, but how to enact that change is less than clear. So we look for a way to pass the time, and a hat to wear. And while I didn't come away with any conclusions on what exactly Occupy DC is trying to do, I did get an answer to my wardrobe conundrum, during a revolution there are many hats one can wear.

"If you don't know someone's preferred gender pronoun"
love it.

The Anatomy of Success

I have a little secret to let you in on: Winning things is not my forte. Some people are surprised when they hear it. I hope people I encounter think that I am a relatively successful person. Of course it would follow that when I throw myself into something, I succeed.

But as my family can attest, it seems when I try for things, they rarely-if-ever work out. From relationships to contests to scholarships to application to whatever else it might be, sometimes it seems the harder I try the less luck I have of getting what I think I want. But in my not too long life, what I have learned and encountered is that success isn’t dictated by one off accomplishment -- by a win here or there, this title or that title. Success is typically achieved through perseverance, creativity and guts. And there are few things that force creativity more than apparent failure.

So next time you do your best without as much as an honorable mention, just remember being recognized for your accomplishment doesn’t make value. Doing something of value does. And that is what real success is all about.

Yay! You Win!

In case today's duo of earlier posts didn't clue you in, it is Five's birthday. I was thus slightly tempted to throw the results of this week's totally amazing giveaway in her direction. But I didn't. So, according to the good, upstanding folks at random.org., HB wins all 804 pages of The Quest!  And the cover! And TWO autographs! HB -- email us your mailing info, and the name of the person to whom you'd like the tome dedicated. (It's OK if that person is you :-)

Now, bonus points to whomever can decipher the cosmic meaning behind HB winning this mother lode shortly after leaving a desperate comment wondering why on earth it was taking me so long to post a winner. Weird, right? And, for the record, it took me so long because I was, indeed, stuck at Costco for nearly FIVE hours today while they put new tires on my car. Five is usually my favorite number. Not today....

Birthday Greetings! More! Again!

Happy Birthday Glorianna!!!

It's kind of hard to believe. Today, after eighteen years of hard work, my best friend/number one partner in crime/favorite little sister. ever. (and I don't say that about just anyone) turns 
*drum roll please* 
18!
Since she's new to the whole being 18 thing, I'm going to give her a quick rundown of the 18 most exciting things about being 18.

Five, now that you're officially old you can:

Vote!
Buy spray paint!
Sue people!
Get sued by people!
Get married!
Get divorced!
Adopt a child!
(ideally not in that order)
   Get a Costco membership!
Become a flight attendant!
Purchase Nicorette gum!
Work at Walmart!
Buy a monkey!
Get a tattoo!
Carry a weapon!
Drive an ice cream truck!
(unfortunately this would require you actually getting your driver's license)
Rent a porta potty!
Buy nitrous oxide!
and
Work at a gas station!

I know what you're thinking. This seems to good to be true, right? And while being able to buy spray paint is pretty awesome, it's important to remember that with power comes great responsibility. So, to end this birthday missive, I leave you with a special birthday haiku.

Finally eighteen
One word: culpability
You best watch yourself

A Recipe in Absentia

What are two things that make people happy? Just pick two, totally random things that are guaranteed to make everyone smile. . . . . . Cake and Rainbows you say? Why, what excellent choices! Those two things make me very happy indeed! Can you imagine how happiness-inducing it would be to mix those two things together? Let's try it!


A cake rainbow! . . . I'll admit it, that's not quite as rapturous as I was hoping. Imma try to switch it around --

RAINBOW CAKE! WOW! SO HAPPY! <-- I am that.

rainbow cake rainbow = positively euphoric

Hit the jump for the color-wheel-munchie deets (also, check out our mad-rad giveaway):

Jesus!

Two wrote some neat stuff about him and politics on The Huffington Post; you should check it out.


Also, check this out: REALLY COOL GIVEAWAY.

OPULENCE!!!

Before I launch into yet another shallow tale of my enjoyment of the world and the joys the world has to offer, I feel the need to vindicate my vanity.  I do not intend to write flighty vignettes on the heels of high morals week after week. Though my parables are piddling trailing TED talks and transplants, our blog reflects our lives. And goshdarnit someone's got to do it. So while I balk at being so breezy and banal, I hope you dear readers do not judge me for the light hearted liberties I take.

And with that...

Evidently, all it takes to turn me from your run of the mill work-a-day-Daisy to WILMA the Queen of the Hedonists is a three-day weekend.

I chose to celebrate our country's favorite dufus who pugnaciously forgot to ask for directions (I refuse to say he discovered America. That's like saying I discovered Pink Berry. Yeah I poked my head in on my own, but there were already a lot of people there. And I wasn't even looking for Pink Berry, I just wanted me some fro-yo.) like Bacchus (read: booze and babes).  Sweet C, Miss A, and I meandered out into Maryland for a mature fall festival.  At the Sugarloaf Mountain Grape Stomp, guests can sip and yes, stomp, to their heart's content.  And stomp we did!


 




Also... free stuff?