A Family Occasion

We all went up to the mountains this weekend to watch Grammy and Grampy get hitched.

The lovely, young, happy couple.

Well, turns out, we were actually all there to eat, since the actual gettin' hitched part took place in a county courthouse a few days before the party. That's okay, though. We like to eat. And run around with the cousins. There are quite a few of them now, especially when we include the step-cousins!

Buried under a pile of grandkids.

It was a good time to get some family photos done.

Jenni and her boyz.

It's also when I discovered that I we're going to have to work on our moves when it comes time for Xmas card season!

Caitlin tries to snack on Logan.

Picturesque posers.

Just to prove a point, Eric took a picture of me.

C'est moi. Outstanding in my field. Har-dee-har! Sorry, couldn't resist that one.

Well, nevermind all that. I bet you really want to know is what the twins were doing. They were doing some of this:

All terrain walkin' baby.

And some of that:

Catchin' some air.

And a lot of this (Prepare yourself!):

Prince Charming.

Logan had turn up his Charm setting to 11. He was unstoppable! Women melted into puddles when he staggered by.

We had a great time and were reminded yet again that having a flying car or a teleporter would be really nice for those extra long car trips. The drive is pretty, don't get me wrong, but it's loooong. Especially with three children in the car. Even though all three are very good travelers, they do get sick of being cooped up for a long while with nothing to look at but one another.

Oh and we also discovered that caffeine seems to run through my system and into the twins in 12 hour increments.

The hard way.

Eric made a vanilla latte for me so that I could stay awake on the drive up and keep him company. Neither of us reckoned on Logan's reaction to the caffeine that I drank at 1 pm would drive him buggy at 1 am. He was wired. We were exhausted. Emma, being the champion sleeper that she is, shrugged it right off and slept until the morning. Logan needs to take some notes! On the way home I didn't touch a single drop of caffeine.

Sigh!

You know what? It just struck me that this may be the last wedding I ever go to until the next generation starts getting hitched! I think everyone I know is actually married now.

Whoa!

Does that make me officially...um...middle aged?!

Aieeee!

Pick a Purple Pepper

Tongue twisters, anyone?

No?

How about vegetables?

Since we haven't had a frost yet, the garden is still going gangbusters. I finally got to harvest my first bell peppers. At least, the ones I could find under the mass of tomato plants.

Purple Beauty bell pepper.

The Purple Beauty live up to their name: both very purple and very beautiful. However, they taste just like a green bell pepper.

Caitlin shows off a pepper.

The one that really deserves all the hoopla is the California Wonder. I could have picked some green, but I'm a red bell pepper fan and so I waited. And waited. And waited some more until finally...! Red!

California Wonder bell pepper.

They were the sweetest things ever. So yummy, it was like the ones you buy from the store aren't even in the same family anymore!

Next year: more bell peppers!

We've only eaten two so far and they were yummy. I'm now waiting for the third one on the plant to ripen. They need a better location for next year, but considering they had to beat off a forest of tomato plants, they did pretty well!

A pepper pattern.

The melons continued to do well. Here is a New Orchid watermelon. They're a light orange inside, but still taste like a regular melon. I still think the Sugar Baby is my favorite.

New Orchid watermelon.

Now that it's fall, the squashes are beginning to ripen. I had to do some research to determine when "ripe" was visible on a squash and the answer was very interesting. You have to wait for the stem to get "woody". Sure enough, looking around the yard, I had some woody-stemmed squashes. So I grabbed a pair.

My first buttercup squash!

They are bright orange inside and when cooked, their flesh is a lot less sweet than a butternut or acorn squash or sweet potato. I think they'd probably make a nice savory soup or be great just mixed with a heap of butter, salt and pepper. I tried my first one with wild rice roasted in the center and that didn't work out so well. Fortunately, I have more to play with in the kitchen!

Orange on the inside.

Yes, we still have tomatoes. Not as many as before, but they're still out there! I hope to continue harvesting until the frost kills them all. Hopefully, I'll be able to pull all of the green ones off before the frost liquefies them.

Caspian Pink.

Posting is going to be pretty light this week since my folks are in town. And you know what that means: gardening! I have my dad outside ripping up piles of lamb's ears that have tried to take over the yard, while I weed to his left. This afternoon, Mom and I went down to The Mecca (Val knows what I'm talkin' about!) to go plant shopping.

Well...what else was I supposed to do with all of that new-found space dad just made in the shade of the ash tree?! Clearly I needed to go plant shopping to pick up a few semi-shade plants that would look fabulous there! And...! And...! They were on sale! How could I resist 40% off plants?

I'll take pictures once they're installed.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, they're not edible. Just pretty.

Wheee! Plants!

Walkin' but not yet Talkin'

So the twins decided to show off for my mom and dad (Who came visiting in time for the big birthday party this coming Saturday.) and started really walking. As in more than three weebly-wobbly steps and then falling onto their bums. Now they do 6 to 8 steps and then fall over. Much better! Then, when we went up to the mountains to party with Grammy and Grampy at their wedding reception, they decided to show off for them as well, wowing the whole family.

Hanging out with my folks has been interesting. Both of the twins, but Logan especially, are fascinated with my father. He actively tries to get my dad to pick him up - it's incredibly endearing to watch. I suspect it's because he's very calm and quiet. I've noticed that both twins are immediately attracted to anyone that stays quiet around them. Squealing tends to frighten them a little, but once they've warmed up to you, feel free to squeal. They'll squeal right back.

Or roar.

Emma is a roar-er. It's ridiculously cute, too.

She also beeps.

She was pressing my nose and as is my wont, I was beeping in time to her pressing. Then I beeped her nose. She looked me right in the eye and said, "Beep." Then, just to give me that little extra thrill, she pushed on my nose once more and said it again, "Beep."

The child is clearly brilliant!

Bet you didn't know nose beeping was a clear indicator of intelligence, did you? Well, you heard it here first!

Making Yogurt

The homesteading continues!

After several friends mentioned that making yogurt is easy as pie (Which, personally, I don't consider all that easy. I have a hard time making a nice crust.), I thought I'd give it a whirl.

In the end, Eric became the one giving it a whirl and I was assisting. However, homemade yogurt was created in our house and we've been working on perfecting it ever since. I think we've finally reached a good point in our trials. We now have a thick yogurt, not too tart, that is relatively easy to make and sets up in three hours.

Unfortunately, since both of us have a scientific bent, we like a little precision when it comes to dealing with bacteria laden foods and we like to use things like thermometers and aseptic techniques. Nonetheless, take heart! It turns out fantastic yogurt time after time.

We started with this guy's recipe and then fiddled with it to get a thickness we liked.

For 1/2 gallon of yogurt you will need:

• 2 quart containers, with lids
• 1 8 oz container, with lid
• 2 cup liquid measuring cup
  
• a candy thermometer
• a ladle
• stirring spoon/fork
  
• a small insulated cooler
• a heavy bottomed pot, with lid
• 1/2 gallon of milk (We like whole milk.)
• 1 to 3 tbsp powdered milk (Amount depends on the thickness you like. No powdered milk at all gives you drinkable yogurt. Three gives you a nice, thick yogurt.)
• 4 to 8 0z of unopened, plain yogurt with live, active cultures (This is your starter culture.)

My additions are in italics below.

1. Sterilize your jars, ladle, measuring cups, and spoons. If you are unconcerned about aseptic technique, just make sure they are squeaky clean.
   
2. If using powdered milk, whisk it into unheated milk until completely dissolved. We like to use 3 tbsp. If skipping powdered milk, your yogurt will be of a drinkable consistency, which is also nice.
   
3. Heat milk to 85-90^oC in double boiler (185-195 ^oF). If using a heavy pot, stir frequently to prevent sticking (He's not kidding, that stuff will burn on the bottom. If it does burn, just be careful while ladling the yogurt mixture into your quart jars to not rip up the burnt milk skin. Bleah!). Keep covered.
4. Remove from fire, place covered pot in pan of clean cool water (We use the kitchen sink. Fill with cold water and stir until you reach the proper temp.) until stirred milk is very close to 55^oC (130^oF).
5. Ladle 1 cup warm milk into 2 cup liquid measuring cup.
   
6. Stir up yogurt starter with a clean fork, add to 55^o C milk (In measuring cup, making a slurry, then add mixture to pot of warmed milk.), stir thoroughly, (temp should drop to 50 ^oC (122 ^o F) or just below). Pour still warm mixture into the two bottles, plus the smaller 8 oz jar. Cover immediately with the sterile lids.
7. Place filled bottles in cooler, add enough 50^oC (122 ^oF) water (We use the hot water left over from sterilizing the bottles. You can add additional cool water to bring it down to the correct temperature.) so that bottles are surrounded, but the water is well below the lid rims. The starter jar will have to be placed on a support to keep its lid above the water. Close the lid on the cooler to keep the heat in.
   
8. Do not disturb the yogurt and it will be finished in 3 hrs, provided the temperature does not drop below 40 ^oC (104 ^oF).
9. After 3 hours, remove jars from cooler and place in refrigerator, being careful to not jostle the jars.
   
10. Refrigerate until needed.

For more firm yogurt, add 2 Tbl powdered milk to the ½ gallon of milk prior to heating. Either whole or skimmed milk may be used, but whole milk makes richer yogurt.

Note that the 8oz container can be used as the starter culture for your next batch if you sterilized the container first.

The finished product, plus peaches!

It's actually a lot easier to do than it sounds here. However, even if it sounds a lot more complex than you were hoping for, it does give you consistent and repeatable results. And who doesn't like consistent, repeatable results?

And yummy yogurt!

You know who else likes yogurt?

Babies.

Yogurt 'stache.

I like to add either jam to my plain yogurt or a small amount of sugar and vanilla and chopped fruit. It also makes very nice smoothies, pancakes (Just swap the yogurt for the milk in the recipe and add a splash of milk to thin it as needed.) or whatever recipes where you'd like to use yogurt.

There are several benefits of making your own yogurt.

1. You get to control the amount of sugar.
2. You determine the flavorings. You probably won't be adding any dyes or high fructose corn syrup to your yogurt, either.
3. You get to control the quality of the milk used. Remember: Yummy In, Yummy Out.
4. If you normally don't like plain yogurt because it's too tart, you'll be pleasantly surprised at how mellow this yogurt is.
5. No more unrecyclable plastic containers!
6. More when you need it, plus a few hours.
7. Breakfast! Lunch! Healthy snacks! Dessert, even!
8. The price is right. For the cost of one half gallon of milk and some time, you can have a lot of yogurt.
9. You'll suddenly discover new ways to use yogurt in your baking.
10. Did I mention that it's yummy?

Try it and let me know what you think!

Like Blood and Oil

Do you ever get the feeling certain people just aren't meant to be related? I often do.

Hey! Guess what?! My parents are in town, but I don't know when I'll get to see them since they are under my brother's control (He has a car, they didn't choose to rent one.) and he cavalierly suggested in the background that "We'll see her when we see her." As in, who gives a rat's ass about your schedule. We'll show up when I feel like driving the folks over there.

Oh yeah. This is gonna be a great ten days. We're off to a faaaaabulous start.

Sadly, my kid sister and her family can't make it to the twin's shindig. Cindy, you'll be missed! On the bright side, my older sister will be here next Friday (Just in time for the party.) with her shiny new fiancé, Matt, who I'm dyin' to meet! Vive l'amour!

I'm 39 years old, does the family drama crap ever end? Do brothers ever grow the hell up?

Emma says...

"What iz dis?"

"Wait a minute! Dis is da 21st century an' you people still usin' shovels?!"

Just don't tell her about the flying cars!

Logan's First Kiss and Other Developments

Logan's first kiss is mine! Mine, I say!

A couple of days ago, Logan leaned over and gave me a kiss on the nose, with an actual lip-smacking noise. It was so endearing that I immediately melted into a puddle and didn't revive until yesterday.

At least that's my reason for not posting, and I'm sticking with it!

To make it up to you, I bring you assorted stories and pictures of cuteness.

On 9/10, I was fed up with his comb-over

Mr. Crazy Hair.

and finally broke out a pair of scissors and snipped off the offending locks. He now looks very "boy" in a way that is somehow different from "baby with comb-over".

Seriously cute. Even with a comb-over.

On the walking front, while Logan has taken a few steps here and there, they mostly seem to be of the drunken frat boy variety: stumbling and falling. Until he takes three solid steps on his own, I'm not counting him as "walking". Otherwise, he's happy to crawl

Crawlin' with his new 'do. No, I have no plans of opening a salon. Why do you ask?

or to be helped to "walk" along with his dad.

Lookit that belly! You can practically see the sign saying "Apply Zerbert Here" can't you?

Don't get me wrong, he stands on his own really well, he's just not interested in walking. I figure he's determined that he's just better at crawling and that he has his whole life ahead of him to walk. Right now he can be carried all the time, and who wouldn't like that?

Emma, on the other hand, isn't doing too much more in the walking category other than her original 3 steps. She's happy zipping along in her funny little crawl, furniture and leg cruising.

Furniture cruisin'.

She has also developed her very own "walker" using the little green trash bin I bought to use as a toy cache for the living room. Oh and she growls.

Here she is doing both at the same time.

"Rarrr!"

Wait, here's the full effect.

"Blearrrrrgh!"

She's a goofball. Can't imagine where she got it from!

On the language front, the twins seem to have figured out the word "kitty", or something rather like kitty and a variation of "Caitlin". It sounds very like "Kay-in" or "Kayd-in". Either way, they both know how to say her name and went completely bananas when I showed them her picture online yesterday. I think they like her!

Caitlin shows off her roly-polies.

Emma doesn't appear to have any more teeth pushing through and even though Logan has been chewing on his index finger recently, he's decided to set his own record for latest teether in the Hatchet household. Not a single ivory tusk is anywhere to be seen in his jaw. Both of Emma's bottom teeth have come in very nicely and she's been testing them out on assorted foods and me. Ow!

The twins are looking forward to turning one in another 11 days. They hear there are going to be lots of folks there to sing to them and squeal over them. The twins like squealing. Ooh and cake. They especially like cake!

In The Garden

September came on suddenly, the way it often does, with a change in the weather. Oddly enough, it appeared as if the very first day of September meant an abrupt shift to Fall Weather. The weeks of hot, sweltering summer vanished in an instant.

Now we have cool days and almost cold nights.

Fortunately, I still have hummingbirds.

Fly to me, my love, and sip the nectar from my depths.

I still have several of them zipping around the yard and fighting for the right to drink all of the nectar from the deck plants.

Mmm! Agastache 'Heather Queen'. A 2007 vintage. Lovely!

Here he is, finally at rest.

Taking a breather.

He keeps the interlopers on their...errr...wings.

In the front yard (Also hummingbird territory.), the container plant has filled in and the millet is putting up flowering stalks.

Flowering stalks that smell remarkably like cumin or curry. Yum!

The bed I created earlier this summer has gone nuts.

Beneath the cherry tree, flowers bloom and bees buzz.

As I was weeding, I found a casualty: one of my toads lay dead. I don't know what did it in, but I was saddened at its passing. (No photos of that one because...ew!)

Close up of the flowers. Click to enlarge for detail.

I'm looking forward to trying new flowers under there next year. Still haven't decided what I want to put in there permanently, but I could be a wild woman and leave it a bed of mostly annuals I suppose. I shall have to think on it. I do think the river of red flowers that curls around the tree has worked out very well indeed and the night scented Jasmine Alata was wonderful. Next year I hope to get plants for this bedstarted even sooner. This fall I'll mulch the bed and clean out all of the annuals once they are killed off by frost.

Death undoes us all.

Soon the gardening season will wrap up again for another year. I feel like I have a lot to show for it and yet not enough. It's never enough for me. Other people call it a "hobby". For me it is an obsession.

A beautiful obsession.

Soccer Hooligans

As we were waiting for the game to begin, I mentioned to Eric that we should pick up a pair of the folding chairs everyone else seemed to have.

"If we really wanted to, we could probably just go over and take some from those soccer moms." I suggested with an evil grin. "Pow! Soccer Mom drops [Folding Chair]."
"Yeah, the only problem is then you'd lose faction. Your faction with the PTA has decreased! Your faction with Soccer Moms has decreased! Your faction with Soccer Hooligans has increased!"
"Good point."

I think we've been playing too much Warcraft again.

-----

Oh what a difference a week makes! After spending the last week grilling her on the positions and what the players do, reminding her that we never sit down on the field unless injured and that her job is to chase the ball, Caitlin did remarkably better.

Indeed, I remarked upon it. As did several of the other parents.

She and her team did so well, in fact, that they actually won. Three to zero.

Incredible!

Two, four, six, eight! Who do we appreciate? The other team!

High fives all around.

I also noticed that we weren't the only parents giving our kid last minute instructions. I heard furtive whispers of: OK, where do you stand? What's your position?

I'm glad it wasn't just us!

As for Caitlin? She really enjoyed herself this time. She wore her glasses, paid attention, chased the ball and actually managed to kick it around a few times and defend her position. Awesome!

Play the Game

It was an exercise in frustration.

I shouldn't have been so surprised, really. After all, they'd only had two whole hours of practice before their very first game and Caitlin had never played before. The coach is just some dad (As in, not an actual coach that has training and a paycheck.) and does not appear to have ever coached before.

She knew the proper way to pose with a soccer ball, though.

The soccer pose. It's all about the jaunty stance.

I guess I had my expectations set kind of high when I thought the coach might've chosen to do something useful with the twenty minutes before the game. I kinda thought he might go over the rules of the game with them. Or give the girls a refresher on what their positions were and what they were expected to do.

Guess not.

Here's an action shot of Caitlin.

Chase the ball!

As in, she's actually in motion.

Here's a shot of Caitlin as she was for the majority of the game.

Not the goalie.

No, she wasn't the goalie.

She didn't know she was supposed to move - ever. Unless the ball pretty much came right to her, she never moved. She didn't know defense positions or what offense did. She didn't know where left mid-field was. The coach didn't tell her and I didn't know that she didn't know. I was under the assumption that information was included in the two hours of training.

Guess not.

Oh well.

Her team did score one goal, amazingly enough (The other team scored over three. I lost count.). I discovered that I am not cut out to sit quietly on the sidelines.

No! Really! I was surprised. I thought I wouldn't care how the game went, but while watching I found it kind of a thrill to watch those kids running around, kicking wildly at the ball and trying to make it go somewhere else. I felt so frustrated watching Caitlin do nothing at all that I had to start shouting encouragement and useful things like Stand up! and Chase the ball! and Run, Caitlin!

You know, just like a good sports enthusiast would.

Emma and Logan watched, too. They didn't have much to say, though.

I could be goalie!

Run, Caitlin! Run!

I'd like to say that the last two practices have seen better behavior, but I can't. Even with her new glasses firmly perched on her nose, Caitlin goes off into her own world in her head. And if ever a kid needed a team sport to get her out of her own head, Caitlin is that kid!

All I want is for her to learn the rules of the game and actually try to play it before throwing a fit or announcing that she hates soccer. So while I never had any intention of becoming a "Soccer Mom", it would appear that until the coach steps up and starts coaching, I will have to drill Caitlin on the positions and rules and shout from the sidelines.

Any advice out there on getting a bookish kid into the game? Anyone? Bueller?

Suddenly...

She doesn't seem quite so young anymore.

My baby is growing up.


And now she can see!

The Eyes Have It

I wear contacts. Eric does, too. We're both pretty bad off in the visual department and kind of wondered how Caitlin was doing so well with that whole "seeing" thing and all.

Then it happened.

I went to school to meet the teacher and noticed that Caitlin's desk was in a different location than it had been after the first week of school. I wondered if that had to do with her behavior or the teacher's preference, so I asked Caitlin about it the very next evening. She mentioned, casually of course, that the other location was too far away from the board.

My ears perked up.

"What do you mean?" sez me.
"Well," sez she, "I was just too far away from the board."
"But what does that mean?" I sez, fishing around without trying to lead the witness.
"It was hard to see." She paused for a moment and then added in a rush, "But it's not like I need glasses or anything!"
"How do you know if you need glasses or not?
"Well, I just don't, that's all."

Then there was a flurry of activity: the downloading of a vision chart, scrambling for the measuring tape and getting a somewhat unwilling Caitlin to stand there and read that. Then getting her to move closer when she couldn't see anything.

Then closer.

Then even closer.

Then there was the immediate phone call to our optometrist to set up an appointment for the next available opening.

I suppose it was inevitable, but I had hoped....

According to Dr. K. there was a 30% chance that her eyes would have been just fine, but no, Caitlin didn't beat the Crazy Nearsighted Odds. Instead, she got to sit in the fancy chair and attempt to read the real eye chart.

"Just read any of the letters you can make out to me." said the helpful assistant.
"I can't see anything." Caitlin replied. I was unsurprised.

Flick. The letters got bigger. "How about now?"
"Nope." Still unsurprised.
Flick. "Now?"
"Nope." My eyebrows started lifting towards my hairline.
Flick. "Can you read them now?"
Caitlin finally tried to read the letters and made a complete hash of it. My eyebrows were officially stuck in the Oh My God She's Blind! position.
Final enlargement. Only two letters were on the line. They're HUGE. "Can you read them now?"
"S and L." Caitlin replied.
The assistant dropped down one level. Caitlin tried a little harder to read the letters and got them mostly correct. At that point, the eye test was over and the assistant went to go get Dr. K.

Wow. Oh, wow.

How long has this been an issue and she didn't tell me? For that matter, why didn't the teacher mention that Caitlin was having a hard time seeing the board? Is it possible this has been going on for the last two years? I have no idea, but it seems really sudden!

Previously, Caitlin could read all manner of signs as we were driving along in the car, so this was a big surprise to me. Apparently eye changes can happen just that fast as the eye gets squished out of the proper spherical shape. I'm just glad that we caught it as quickly as we did.

Caitlin is kind of worried about being teased.

Here kitty, kitty!

But I think she'll be OK. We role-played our way through a few situations, just in case.

The eyes are beautiful, but they don't see so good!

As for me, my 3rd grade teacher was the one that told my mom I was squinting at the chalkboard. Glasses at eight. Unsurprisingly enough, I kept "losing" them. Eric didn't realize anything was wrong with him until he was eleven and jokingly put on a friend's glasses. What a surprise when everything suddenly came into focus!

What about you? How did you find out you needed glasses (If you do.)?

Still Sticky in Singapore

We continue our travels in Singapore, because my brain, she is tired.

June 13, 2000

The night exhales hot and sticky air onto my skin. I swim through the dimly lit dark and catch sight of an anteater. He's furry! He looks like he's wearing mukluks on his front legs!

I peer at a bat, who is hanging upside down from a branch. I could touch it, if I just reached out a little bit...I restrain the impulse. The fruit bat is far larger than I'd ever expected. He's (she's?) the size of a ferret with wings! Leathery, satiny, black wings. I'm only 6 inches away...and there's no barrier in my way.

Strange birds call out in the night. Strange insects sing their night song to one another. I hear a loud bellow (a big cat? a deer? water buffalo?) and try to walk towards it, but I'm blocked by jungle.

I squat down and examine the fur of a leopard inches away, separated from me by only an inch of glass. He's lying against it, snoozing and unconcerned with my existence. I am fascinated by his and by the pattern of his fur. I want to touch him. I want to communicate somehow. I admire all of the big cats, one by one. The Malaysian tiger, the African lions, the jungle cats. I want to be a big cat. I feel sad that they're in captivity but glad that I'm able to see them.

I'm at Night Safari - the nocturnal zoo in Singapore where they display animals that are more active by night. Lighting them gently with special "moonlighting" lights - dim, bluish light. I see lions, tigers, sloth bears. Civets, mini water buffalo, big water buffalo, bongos, deer pigs, porcupines, rhinoceroses, elephants...Separating us are only gullies in some cases. Glass in others. Striped hyenas. Spotted hyenas. These last watch people walk by and look as if they are considering angles and distances. "I could take 'em!"

Earlier I was having High Tea at the Compass Rose, a restaurant in my hotel, 70 stories up. What an excellent view of Singapore! Crisp white linen. Perfectly displayed cucumber and salmon sandwiches. Tiny scones and cakes. I feel rich and decadent. I'm glad the company is paying for this trip....

I went to the Singapore botanical gardens. As I walked along, sweltering and melting slowly, I had my very own theme song playing over in my head: "Heaven! I'm in heaven!" The plants are HUGE beasts of the jungle. Plants that we keep in pots, tiny things in comparison to the massive plants towering over my head. I have my camera and am shooting everything that interests me that I am able to capture (thus no shoots of the exotic women). Later on the same day I was given the SG tour by one of my hosts, Ching Meng. He took me to Chinatown where I saw an Indian temple - brightly colored statues and paintings and cloth abound. We had to take our shoes off upon entry, but I left my socks on since I was following Ching Meng's example. I was trying to figure out how to NOT give offense by 1) wearing socks 2) wearing a tank top and shorts 3) being an unbeliever and 4) being female. Maybe being female should have been at the top of the list?

I saw images of gods whose names I do not know and could not pronounce. Dangerous, knife wielding images. Beautiful, sensuous carvings. Elephants and sacred cows.

The next stop was the "wet" market where produce and meat are sold. I saw things in bags and boxes and in piles that I cannot name and didn't recognize. Ching Meng bought me lychee (About the size of a large grape, with red/orange bumpy skin that you peel off. The flesh of the fruit looks like the inside of a grape and the flavor was somewhat similar.) and ramputan (Red and orange and yellow skin with long curling hairs? fibers that stuck out in all directions.) and persimmon. In the meat section I saw fish that were still gasping on tables, tortoises and eels and bullfrogs in cases, waiting to be bought, killed and cooked. Ching Meng thought I would be grossed out by this but I've EATEN frog and eel, and although I've no personal experience with tortoises, I knew they ate them here. We walked along and stopped in a Chinese herbal medicine shop - the walls were lined from ceiling to floor with huge jars of unrecognizable animal and vegetable parts. Horns of this, roots of that, shark fins, bird's nests (you eat solidified BIRD SPIT??) and so many other things.

After that we took a cable car ride from Mount Faber (Hee hee! They call THAT a mountain?) to Sentosa Island and back again. The view is wonderful, so high above everything. You can pretty much see the whole island from up here - it's very small but they're enlarging parts of it slowly with sand that they've "reclaimed" from the sea. Tons and tons of sand are poured and allowed to settle for 5 years or so and then they start building new high rises. Then the people who had last had the beach front property now have a fantastic view of the backside of a new building...

Everything changes.

Last night I was convinced to try a taste of the sweat sock smelling fruit - Durian. I decided, after trying it, that it wasn't for me. Unfortunately, the smell on my hands remained part of me for the rest of the night. They serve it to you at open air fruit stalls. The buyer selects one of the vicious looking spiked fruits, the size of a large pineapple, and smells it. If they like the scent (whew!) they ask for it to be opened and the seller quickly hacks it open with a mini cleaver, allowing the buyer to poke a finger inside and test for ripeness. If it passes this second test, the seller opens the fruit a bit more and allows the buyer to taste test it. Then, if it passes this final test and the buyer accepts it, they go to one of the tables and slurp away. It's a very messy prospect - the squishy milky yellow fruit surrounds large tan pits, covered in a thin skin. The fruit itself has the consistency of custard so there's a lot of slurping going on. After awhile your nose gives out and you can't smell it as strongly as you did when you first walked up, but guaranteed that after you leave, everyone will know where you've been and what you've been eating!

They won't let you take Durian home on the bus or in a taxi...opened or unopened.

I take my smelly self back to the hotel and hope no one notices my scent.

Ciao!
The Wandering Trainer

Broken

A car, a lawnmower, a toilet and a dishwasher walk into a bar. Each was feeling grumpy and out of sorts.

"They don't appreciate me!" the car growled, nursing a Long Island Iced Tea. "I work and work and work! I take the entire load of howler monkeys everywhere they need to go, in comfort and style and do they take care of me? No! Let's see how they like it when I don't start anymore!"

"Yah? You t'ink dat's so bad? I gotta eat alla dat grass. And it ain't like it's just grass, neither. Naw, they gots weeds all ovah da place! Who the hell wantsah eat dat crap alla da time? I'm sick uv it! I'm done!" The lawnmower slams its pint of beer onto the table angrily. Beer sloshes onto the tabletop and drips onto the floor.

"Grass?!" the dishwasher cried, affronted. "All you have to eat is grass and maybe some weeds? Try my diet some time! I have to eat everything. All! The! Time! I have to work twice or even three times a day. And if they have a party?!" Dishwasher rolls its eyes dramatically. "Four or maybe even five times in a single day! They don't even rinse all that thoroughly, either. Like they expect my built in disposer to handle all of that food they're constantly eating! What are they? Gluttons? The food making never stops! All day long: eat, eat, eat! I'm so sick of it! I'm going on strike! See how they like that!" The dishwasher folds its arms over it's metal chest and leans back in its chair. The space in front of it remains conspicuously empty of drink.

A drunken snort escapes from Toilet's mouth. The other three turn and regard it with curious hostility.

"You three think you have it soooo bad. You know what I think?" The toilet slams back yet another whiskey and gestures angrily at the others with the bottle, its hand wrapped tightly around the bottle's neck. "I think you're all a pack of whiners!" The others explode with indignation. The toilet ignores them and continues pouring and drinking until they stop sputtering and wildly gesticulating.

"Twenty years I been in that house. Twenty! Years! Two different families. Hundreds of guests. I got a little somethin' to tell you about that. You think you can handle this?" Glares bounce between the affronted parties, but they wait and they listen. "I've seen more ass than I ever cared to! You!" Toilet finger jabs at the air in front of Car. "Nobody goes for a drive when they feel sick! And you! You ain't even been used this summer 'cause the grass hasn't even been growin' until just now! You oughtta be ashamed!" Guilty as charged, Lawnmower looks away from Toilet's righteous anger. "As for you," The dishwasher leans back to avoid the noxious fumes pouring out of the toilet. "You don't know what the hell you're talkin' about! At least you get to see the food before it comes out! Me? I'm signed up for 'In SICKNESS annnnd in health. 'Til death do us part!' Ain't none a'y'all can beat that! Frickin' pansies!"

-----

Yes. It's true. In the same week, my car, dishwasher, toilet and lawnmower broke down on me. We had the car fixed, replaced the toilet, shopped for a new dishwasher that will hopefully arrive before the week is out (Or my hands fall off, whichever comes first. We make an AWFUL lot of dirty dishes around here!), but Eric is still trouble-shooting the lawnmower issue. Frickin' dilletante mower!

Pasta Estate

As opposed to Pasta Primavera, which means Spring, this is Pasta Estate. Summer pasta.

A pasta dish made with veggies you can only get in the summer time, at their peak. Our star performers include a trio of tomatoes: Cherokee Purple, Persimmon and Moskovich.

This is what they look like inside.

Gorgeous!

This is what they look like sauteed with zucchini, crookneck squash, fresh basil, garlic, olive and truffle oil.

Get closer. Can you smell it?


The truffle oil is the secret ingredient. We had a dish in Italy that was gobsmackingly delicious and when we raved about it, they told us about truffle oil. Mmmm! Italy!

Pour this mixture lovingly over your favorite pasta and serve!


Yum!

A friend recently asked us if we ate like this every night. Eric and I looked at one another somewhat sheepishly and said, "Yes." Eating at home, with a garden full of vegetables and palates spoiled rotten by years of eating at fabulous places means that we like to spend our energy on eating well. So that half hour to an hour that someone else spends cleaning their house? We spend that time cooking dinner.

Seems like a good trade to me!

Just don't look in my basement when you come over for dinner, okay?

P.S. This also explains why I'm awake at 1 a.m. cooling down, pureeing and sieving tomato sauce that I've just made from 6 lbs of paste tomatoes.

Watermelon!

She asked me if I would grow her a watermelon. I said I didn't know, but that I'd try. I looked up how to grow a melon in our ridiculously arid climate, with our short growing season and followed directions.

Caitlin planted the seeds and I watered them. We watched over our babies for months (Well, okay, one of us got bored after a few days of nothing happening, but I watched over them!) and months. Waiting. Eighty three days.

For this moment.

A basket full of goodies.

Harvest.

Turns out that I could grow a watermelon. Now the only question that remained was this: Was it good? I left it up to Caitlin to tell me.

First we cut it open to peer inside.

Caitlin's Sugar Baby watermelon.

Ayup. Appeared to be a melon, alright! It weighed in at 6.2 lbs and it had an urgent date with our tummies.


She took the first bite.

Munch, munch, munch.

And came up smiling.

I guess we'll be making room in our garden for melons from now on, huh?

It was good. As in gooooooood. Drippy. Juicy. Sweet. Just the way a watermelon should be!

It was (Dare I even say it?!) even better than a tomato. Gasp!

What's the best thing you've had out of your garden all season? Or from the market for those of you without gardens?