Perverbs

Some would call Harry Matthews a writer. I prefer to think of him as a lyrical Dr. Frankenstein -- except instead of sewing together old body parts, he sews together old truisms. Yes, Mr. Matthews has pioneered a new and exciting form of prose: The Perverb.

No, a perverb is not a pervy proverb (i.e. lace curtains never stopped any Peeping Tom with character). Rather, it's the creative combination of two or so tired old phrases into one exciting new phrase (i.e. stop and smell the death and taxes). It's a lovely way to forge new bits of wisdom out of old ones which have lost their oomph to overuse.

I had to write a list of 15 these for a class, but I get the feeling I missed a bunch of really good ones. So I'm crowdsourcing to all y'all clever people to find the best perverbs capable of existence (for entertainment value only -- I already turned in the assignment). I'M DOING THIS BECAUSE I BELIEVE IN YOOOOOOOU!

Below, I've included a few more of my perverbs, accompanied by pictures of weirdly beautiful hybrid taxidermy jobs by the artist Enrique Gomez de Molina (because this is likely the only blogpost I'll ever write where those will be even tangentially relevant).

Honesty hurts

The Devil is in an apple a day.

Big brother has more fun

A little knowledge makes Jack a dull boy

A rolling stone turneth away anger

The road to hell is paved with pennies saved

Business by any other name wouldn’t smell as sweet

Diamonds are next to Godliness

Dead horses tell no tales

Damn! The torpedoes killed the cat!

So what's your best perverb? Share a couple in the comments so we can all chortle at them together alone at our personal computers!

Bronco Bites

Color Me Orange (gnocchi) and Blue (cheese crumble)

Gnocchi

1 large yam

1 cup cream cheese or ricotta

2 eggs

4 cups flour

2 tbsp salt

A pinch of nutmeg

Cream wet ingredients together, then knead in dry ingredients. Add floured until dough no longer feels wet to the touch. Separate into four balls and wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate til ready to use. Roll dough into long pieces and cut or twist apart at 1 inch intervals for "footballs". Pan-fry with paprika or boil til pasta float to the top, reserving 1/4 cup water.

Crumble

1/4 cup shelled pumpkin seeds

1/2 cup blue cheese

2 large pieces stale bread

Combine in food processor or blender. Plus til fine powder develops. Toss with pasta and pasta water or sprinkle on top of pan fried gnocchi before serving.

The reports are true...

I'm a tree hugger.

Also... as leaves fall from the trees and as Thanksgiving final decisions are being made, eat this.

The best Apple Pancake maybe ever.

This superfood salad and this superfood sweet

Pumpkin chip cookies

Maybe my favorite thing on this list, Pumpkin Fondue

Recipes for left over pumpkin fondue (they're almost as good)

Farm Vegetable Tian

Hungarian sweets

And last but CERTAINLY not least, dinner in a pumpkin.

An Exciting Announcement...

Yoni and I at Heartland Farm in Markham, VA. More pictures from that in my next post.

We're Having Pumpkins

for dinner!

We 're expecting* they'll be delicious.

Pumpkin stuffed with Roasted Pecans, Pinto Beans & Green Chili 

For all of the other people hoping for pumpkins this year, a perfect recipe. Yoni and I love this when we get back into town because the components either freeze or keep really well.

For tis recipe, you can use any kind of hollow, yellow/orange fleshed squash. I like Japanese Pumpkins for their sweetness or Delicata, because they're perfect for two servings and you can eat the skin.  It is inspired by a similar dish from Julia Blackbird where I always eat their similar dish or their chili rellenos.

A hollow squash

Pecans

Beans

Green Chili

Feta Cheese or Queso Fresco

Fresh Corn

maple syrup, brown sugar or honey

Water

1. Split squash in half, placing about 1 tsp of maple syrup in with a tablespoon water. Bake with til tender. 2. Meanwhile, warm beans and chili.  3. Crush about half a cup of roasted pecans and 4. press into the flesh  inside the cavity of the squash.  5. Fill with warmed beans -- be generous with beans. 6. Smother with green chili. 4. Top with fresh corn kernels and crumbled cheese.

for the best beans, follow the jump ...

Three little reasons why I love being a Mom.

You guys, this seriously just happened.

We had some little friends over today, including a darling 2-year-old named Carrie. As I was helping Carrie slip into her sparkly white sandals, Willa looked at me and said, "Mom, I want shoes." Now, Willa is nearly 17-months-old, and she is a Tillemann-Dick, so I was impressed but not flabbergasted with her short but grammatically correct utterance. And, since Willa has NEVER shown the SLIGHTEST interest in bipedal mobility (which, at nearly 17-months, is a bit crazy -- even for a Tillemann-Dick), it's true that I seldom put her in shoes of any sort. So, I told her as much. "Willa," I said, "when you start walking, I'll get you shoes." She looked at me with resignation, and replied with her standard, unenthusiastic "okaaaaaay."

Then, she stood up and took three, very deliberate, steps. Then she did it again.

So I ordered her some shoes.

****

In the car this afternoon, Hettie and I had the following conversation:

H: Mom, is Tom my uncle?
K: Nope. He's Mercina's boyfriend. Maybe they'll get married, and then he'd be your uncle.
H: So, you can just marry who you want to, as long as he's not your uncle or brother or cousin?
K: Well, it's a very important decision, so you have to think about it very carefully. But yes, you get to choose who you marry.
H: So, when I grow up and I'm an astronaut, I can marry Tom? If Mercina doesn't marry him first?
K: Ummmmm...
H: How long is Mercina going to be in Canada?

****

Also, I know it's not really responsible, but I kind of hope Phineas becomes a dancer.

The end.

Beauty Hurts or What To Do When Your Face Become Furry Like A Little Rodent

One of the side effects of an old medication led to my face becoming furry like a baby rodent. It was kind of awful. It was too big of a task for plucking and I was worried about my skin if my whole face was waxed. I'd heard of threading: a less painful South East Asian import. It was supposedly better for your skin and many women used it on their entire face.

Threading salons were all over New York. So one day after a meeting, I happened upon one. The price was right. It looked clean and tidy, so I decided to go. There were a few girls there getting their brows done. As the Indian girl with incredible hair and brows rolled her thread up and down her client's face, it seemed almost hypnotic. The client's eyes were closed and they both appeared to be in a zen-like state of hairlessness. I was excited.  I lay my head back, ready for this amazing, transcendent excavation of face fur. A young woman with thick, black hair began to wind a white thread, twisting it between her fingers a half dozen times. She approached my face and began to roll the miniature rope across my cheeck. I screamed. Loud. Back and forth the little threads went, ripping my baby hairs out, 10 or 12 at a time.

I've had my freaking chest cut open twice but this was certainly some of the most pain I have ever been subjected to. And I was doing it voluntarily.

I felt entirely deceived. Those girls who made it look so effortless -- dare I say -- meditative. How dare they!? It was a violation of a common bond of sisterhood. They should have warned me. They owed it to me. This must be against the law, I thought. Outlawed by some international convention or treaties having to do with cruel and unusual punishment. I think I asked if it was.

The next thirty minutes seemed like hours -- days, ever. I screamed, squirmed and yelped in pain. The other women who worked in the salon gathered around. I think they found my cries for help rather entertaining. Clients would come in and out, giggling and giving me sympathetic glances. What can I say? I've never been particularly good at keeping my feelings in.  When I was finally done, my face looked like I had had a chemical peel or something. -- I was pretty sure the top few layers of skin had been removed. But my cheeks were smooth as a naked baby's bottom.

I'm going back to New York for Rosh Hashanna and while I no longer need the full face, I might just get threaded tomorrow. If you need it, it is true: it does work very well. It is supposedly better for your skin. It hurts like the Devil. And it makes me wonder, what goshawful painful routines do men engage in to stay beautiful? On that note, have a beautiful, hairless new year this Rosh Hashana. 

Conversations with Phineas

My delicious little 3-year-old cornered me the other day, and was typically adorable: 

P: Hey, Mom?
K: Yes?
P: I need a brother.
K, mildly stressed: Hm. That's a pretty tall order.
P: Because Hettie is a sister and Willa is a sister, but I'm the brother, so I don't HAVE a brother.
K: Brothers take some time, Buddy. And there aren't really any guarantees...
P, resigned: I know. I don't want one right now.
<<thoughtful pause>>
...I want one tomorrow. Tomorrow, I want to go to Costco to see if they have brothers, and then we can buy a real boy. To be my brother. OK?

If someone can think of appropriate, noncommittal response to this, please let me know...

In All Likelihood the Most Supremely Delightful and Delectable Banana Sundae Puffs You Will Ever Consume

Preparation-time: 10 minutes           Bake-time: 20 minutes          Servings: 6

If you have any desire to concoct these extraordinary dainties, know first that they are exquisitely scrumptious and hence, dangerous. These delights are DANGEROUS to any calorically conscious diet, so calorie counters: Beware! Also, you should be conscious that there are certain ingredients which you will definitely need to have on hand (or resting in your cupboards, or in your refrigerator or freezer) in order to produce The Most Supremely Delightful and Delectable Banana Sundae Puffs You Will Ever Consume. I would deeply appreciate if you would be absolutely certain that you are in possession of all of the following ingredients before endeavoring to make this dessert. THE FOLLOWING INGREDIENTS ARE POSITIVELY ESSENTIAL FOR THE CONSTRUCTION OF THIS SWEET TREAT. If you do not have every single one of the following items, you will not be able to produce the intended result. I would advise you to organize and prepare your pantry accordingly.

_______________________________________________________________________________

But I don't understand. . . cereal is delicious.

Mr. Gosling and I obviously have different opinions of cereal.

We *tried* to make a Uke n' Whistle video. . .

.

. . but Mercina gets a little loopy when her blood sugar is low.

This is a true story.

I have a bad habit of putting my feet up on the coffee table. Phineas calls my suspended legs a "bridge" and loves to clamber up for a bouncing ride, or crawl underneath on his hands and knees. Some afternoons, he becomes obsessed and I field near-constant requests:

"Will you be my bridge?"
"Mommy! Put your legs up like a bridge!"
 "You're a bridge!!!" <ecstatic, angelic grin>

Thing is, Phinny doesn't say the letter R. It is totally silent.

Sometimes, he goes up to people we don't really know and says, "my Mom is a bridge."

S is for Ssssssssssssnake

Last night we rang in the Lunar New Year at our brother's house. We welcomed the Year of the Snake with dumplings, sweet melon tea and lots of good company. 

According to legend, Snakes are introspective, refined and rational -- which made me laugh, because we certainly don't have any of them at our house! I'm a Monkey, which means I'm talkative, eccentric and like new things. Which, I'm slightly embarrassed to admit, is pretty accurate....

Keep reading for a rundown on the other signs of the Chinese Zodiac. Does yours ring true?

Chiquitita

Sometimes the brain is too tired for words. 

That's when Uke 'n Whistle.

Back to school

To do list:

Oh bird. You so sessy.

Three, Four, Z, and myself had a late night with National Geographic Youtube videos.

We were all quite taken with this smooth little dancer.

What can I say? He'd get my number.

The Art of Collage

   I got some calendars in the mail the other day

-                        from a horse rescue

   and the ASPCA. bb                          bb

The thing is. . .         lllll

   I only need one calendar.

Haiku for the Ninth Month

Blossoms! Bubbles! Spring!
Everything here is popping
Except li'l old me

Children Are Blessings
Is a good mantra for moms
Who shop with toddlers

She'll seem so tiny
When she gets here; so huge now,
Perched on my bladder

God is quite witty.
How can I be so certain?
Sex first, then childbirth.

Pregnant brains don't work
Simple things become so hard
For example, counting the appropriate number of syllables in the last line of a Haiku is just more than I can bear at the moment....

Shaky Shaky Shaky

So, I found Chary's respiratory therapy vest. . .

And I don't have the ICU to blame. . .

also. . .

Join our GIVEAWAY!!! It's nice free stuff!

Baby Vice

Last summer in Korea, I saw a sign for The Baby Lounge; a gaudy neon baby bottle flickered in its window while a throbbing dub-step remix of Baby Beluga beat on its door. I can only assume the club was filled with "cool" infants, kicking to the music from their patent leather exersaucers in between sips of apple juice-tinis. I shook my head at the dissolution of pastel colors, stuffed dinosaurs, and fleece blankies. Last Thanksgiving, I walked in on Charlotte, Princess H's favorite doll, like this:

Apparently, her habit cost her a role in Toy Story 3.

Where have guilelessness and naivete fled? Have the uncorrupted and the new lost their sanctity? I was impelled to philosophize on innocence, sin, and their respective natures. I worried that my dear niece and nephews may have been poorly influenced by their delinquent toys or their overly-matured peers. I started to see signs of their moral corrosion everywhere I turned.
Just look:

Keep on eye on those babies.

Otherwise they'll end up like my bum brother C.

The 'H' stands for 'Hipster'