#Views

The other night I had a really hilarious dream about Drake.  I'm not generally into his music.  I've been unmoved by most of what I've heard.

In the dream, I was supposed to be arranging pick up of an item I had purchased off one of those Facebook buy and sell groups.  Then when I finally meet the guy, it's DRAKE.  And in my dream, him being Drake means the same thing as it would IRL, except it's strangely not a big deal, but he's still very famous and very sought after and kind of a beta male.  Anyway, we're talking and I notice he's wearing like, 5 t-shirts layered on top of each other, and I'm gently chiding him about it, and it comes out that he's super self-conscious about his body?!  So the next time I come over, he's wearing a sleeveless t-shirt, and he's very self conscious about it, and his body is okay...like it's fine...he's not overweight or anything but everything is kind of lacking definition in a way that I now know (after a quick - and satisfying! - Google image search) it is not IRL, and in the dream I was trying to be supportive and comforting him and then it turned into FULL MAKE-OUT TIMES AT UNLIKELY PAIRINGS HIGH.  Like, I basically woke up out of making out with Drake.

Maybe this means I'm softening my stance a bit?  Dr. Rei basically curated a list of (two) recent Drake tunes that she said I should listen to and the ones she recommended ARE the ones I'm the most likely to be into...but I didn't think it was enough to send me headlong into Drake apologist mode.

Whereas, listening to The Life of Pablo put me right back into Kanye apologist mode and I was ready to fight anyone who says he's not a musical genius.  The Life of Pablo is so so so good, you guys.  So good.  Singing 'Ye is the best 'Ye.

I've seen two great documentaries this week.

On Monday the Dotytron and I went to see When Two Worlds Collide.  This was a documentary that took 9 years to make.  It follows indigenous Peruvian people living in the Peruvian Amazon who call for the repeal of laws that threaten the land they have traditionally used and occupied.  The laws were introduced by a government that is courting progress in the form of allowing transnational oil and gas interests to set up camp in the Amazon rainforest.  The indigenous people form a coalition and their coalition has a president, Alberto Pizango who is their spokesperson and leader.  The indigenous people start a protest that sees them blocking roads and surrounding oil infrastructure.  The protests are peaceful, but after a sham legislative debate that sees the government refuse to consider repealing the laws, the government sends armed police in to break up the protests and things turn violent.  Indigenous people and police die.  I came away from this doc feeling really bad about capitalism and how capitalism is so relentless - forcing people to submit, whether they want to or not.  

It also made me check my own assumptions and terrible biases and ignorance on indigenous Canadian issues and how we're doing the same thing, here.  I sometimes find myself thinking, "well, why do you even want to live in Attiwapiskat anyway?" and then I realize that this has been their home and that part of living in a just and liberal society is allowing people to live how they choose and honoring those agreements and histories.  It's not for us to decide what's the best way for people to live.  And they predate the f**k out of us.  So how can we make this work?  How can we bridge capitalism and indigenous ways of life?  

I also went to see Sour Grapes with JJ.  This was about the rise of wine auctions during the dot-com boom and this mysterious figure, Rudy Kurniawan who becomes a player in the wine scene and is known for his palate.  He ends up making $35 million from auctioning rare wines from his collection and it turns out that he might have been counterfeiting them.  He basically would bid on wines, drive up the price, and then a month later, auction the same wines at an even more inflated price (parallels to Wall Street malfeasance!)  Well, poor Bill Koch (of the Koch brothers) suspects that some of his wine might be counterfeit and hires a private investigator and things start to close in around Rudy.  Rudy ends up going to jail for 10 years, and his defense attorneys are like, this is ridiculous.  We've seen mobsters with bodies in the ground not serve time like that.  After the lights came on, I turned to JJ and said, "I'm on team Rudy!  I like his entrepreneurial spirit! And are we REALLY supposed to feel bad for one of the Koch brothers?"  

Rudy made friends with Hollywood producers and got invited to these exclusive wine parties that were all white and male and super in the dick-measuring vein.  Anyway, there were interesting parallels with class and race that this film illustrated, as well as the corrupting power of money and these types of interests.  Some of Rudy's friends stay loyal to him to this day and the movie talks about the collusion between the grifter and the mark, but I found the loyalty of these doofus Hollywood, Michael Bay-types to be kind of endearing.  This was really good - I highly recommend it.

I've got two more documentaries this week and then Hot Docs 2016 will be done.  There are so many things going on!  Our May calendar is like a solid block of colour but I'm enjoying every minute of it.  I love all the cultural things we're getting to do and the people I'm seeing.  A talk, raving, Hot Docs, dinners out, the Comic Arts Festival all in the same month?!  That's soul satisfying stuff, my friends.

We watched Beyoncé's "visual album" (aka music videos strung together), Lemonade last night and...well...I have thoughts.  I will say that I'm not a member of the Beyhive - BUT! - I know that people are going crazy for it because as she matures in her career, we're seeing Bey start to take ownership and exercise creative control and try stuff in a way she hasn't before.  So yeah, that's cool.  But also, at the end of the day, it's not THAT cool?  I mean, it's a bunch of music videos strung together and there are some arresting images, but it's not like, high art.  Also, the songs are almost all pretty bad, but I just don't like her music, so fine, I get that.  I like that she goes in different directions and there was maybe 2 or 3 songs that I enjoyed. 

The most important element was how she's using her platform to shine a spotlight on black women artists and black artists in general.  That's incredible and that in an of itself is laudable.  I'm so glad that Warsan Shire is in my life now.  I wish I had watched Lemonade first, in a way.  But Bey is NO Warsan Shire and once you hear Warsan Shire recite her own poetry, then Beyoncé's affected, almost Miss Universe delivery just falls real short.  You can see how hard Bey is trying to be something great and I applaud her, but you can also see the effort and true greatness - you don't see the effort, mang.  So yeah, it did the thing it was supposed to do, which is cause a big hubub on the internet, inspire a lot of gossipy speculation, result in lots of think pieces, and then made Bey and Jigga s boatload of money.  Cool story, bruh.  

I almost think the brouhaha about the who "Becky with the good hair" is was a misstep and a silly distraction.  If Bey wanted to be taken seriously as an artist, fanning those flames was unnecessary and really takes away from her central message - which is that she's too awesome to be trifled with.  Ultimately, that's a message I can get behind, but it's delivered in a forgettable manner.  This ain't no Purple Rain, sons.

Last weekend we went on this amazing nature walk that really made you feel removed from the city.  I loved it.

We also went out dancing and it was incredible, though we barely made it through Sunday by the skin of our teeth.  We were cranky AF and the poor kids suffered.  It was worth the one day's aftermath of hell for the pleasure of feeling like a person again.

Of course our recovery day was rainy and miserable so we took the kids to Pacific Mall and ate a million of those puffy pancake things and some overcooked, hand-pulled noodles.  

Here are things we've eaten lately:

The aforementioned hand-pulled, overcooked noodles

Quickie weeknight freezer meal: meatballs from the freezer, tomato sauce from the freezer, garlic bread and green beans.  Basically the Dotytron-Lagerfeld tots' Platonic ideal.

A rhubarb browned butter pie that I pretty much ended up eating all to myself?  

Squash soup and cheddar sage biscuits

Bacon, squash, and kale risotto with a poached egg

Leftover risotto turned into fresh mozzarella stuffed arancini with tomato sauce, German onion sausages, and zucchini fritters

Banana chocolate chip pancakes and English bacon for a Sunday breakkie

This AMAZING poundcake with the most delectable browned butter glaze.  From this recipe here: Sour Cream Coffee Cake with Browned Butter Glaze. The only thing I think I would change is to omit the cinnamon swirl.  I thought it detracted from the overall butteriness.  I think what I"m after is a basic, bundt or pound cake and that delicious glaze.

Orzo made Spanish rice style with chicken thighs and peas.

Chai-spiced creme brulee.  A throwback dessert.  It's so delicious though!  Why don't people make creme brulee anymore?

Fin.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Peanut Butter Mousse Pie

Serves 10-12

Crust:

1 1/2 cups graham cracker crumbs, or chocolate wafer crumbs, or pretzel crumbs

3 T. sugar

1/2 cup of melted butter

- mix all together, press onto bottom and slightly up sides of a 9" springform pan.  Bake in a preheated 350F oven for about 10-12 minutes until lightly golden.

Filling:

3/4 cup sugar 

3 eggs, separated

1 1/2 cups of creamy peanut butter

2 1/2 cups of heavy cream, whipped

- mix the egg yolks with 1/2 cup of  sugar on top of a double boiler until warm to the touch (keep whisking so the eggs don't cook)

- remove from heat and stir in the peanut butter until smooth.  Set aside to cool.

- meanwhile, whisk the egg whites with the remaining 1/4 cup of sugar until it forms stiff peaks.  Fold into peanut mixture.

- fold whipped cream into the peanut mixture and pour into prepared crust.  Refrigerate at least overnight. 

- serve with hot fudge sauce.

Buffs'n'tings

Last weekend, I went through all three kids' clothes and did my seasonal inventory, which is an extremely boring, but necessary task where I write up a list of their needs for the season (# of t-shirts, # of long-sleeve shirts, sandals, hats, etc.).  Then I go through their drawers and see what they have that will still fit into the next season, what has to be retired, and what has already been bought or is in a hand-me-down bin and cross-reference with that list so that I only buy what I need (I always end up buying a little bit more, but because I have a giant and twins, they all get used eventually).  It is mind-numbing work and I'm really glad I have two Master's degrees and also: guys are useless in this department, although if there are any cis males who DO do this work, then please message me because you should be sent for study at a highly acclaimed research facility on gender equality in the domestic sphere.

ANYWAY, I had already bought the Big Yam this tshirt below, but hadn't opened the package yet:

Cut to - a couple of night's ago, him asking me when we were chilling, "Can you get me a shirt that has a skull and crossbones on it so I can be a pirate?" and me saying, evenly, "OK, we'll see."  

Cut to - last night, me showing it to the Big Yam with much fanfare and him being the MOST jazzed of life.  

Cut to - this morning, 6:15am, me in the kitchen starting the daily routine and the Dotytron eating his breakfast in the living room when the Big Yam comes down the stairs, and announces, "Hi Baba, I already dressed and brushed my teeth" and I was like, "What the - ?!" and he's standing at the bottom of the stairs wearing all his clothes for the day, with that proud/shy expression on his face that slays me dead.  Usually, it is a FIGHT getting him to change out of his jammies (he doesn't like putting on cold clothes), and he waits until the very last possible minute, and there's a series of escalating (in tenor and volume) reminders for him to brush his teeth.  But today!  Today he stood at the bottom of the stairs and was dressed (even his socks!!!) and had brushed his teeth all because he was so pumped to wear a $10 t-shirt with skulls on it, and he broke and simultaneously mended my heart.  He's such a fearful kid and he's generally afraid to do the wrong thing, so it really shows when he's self-conscious.  That mix of shyness and pride that he sees you noticing him doing something is so eternally sweet, I can't handle it.

A couple of weeks ago, I was holding strong and refused to let the kids watch a show on a Saturday morning, because sometimes I like to make my weekends as torturous and masochistic as possible.  They were in the basement being maniacs, and finally I had enough and said, "Fine. You can watch one show before breakfast," and from the basement I heard Twin A screaming, "ONE SHOW!!!" like he was a civil defense siren in a little wisp of a body and it makes me laugh to this day.  

As of today, I'm on vacation for the next week!  Huzzah!  We have some laid back, fun, staycationing times ahead of us and I couldn't be happier about it.

Edit: picking up this post mid-way through my staycation, which so far has been anything BUT laid back and/or fun.

UGH.  My Friday before going on vacation was so stressful.  And I got called into work yesterday to deal with work stuff and it was so not fun and I had heartburn all last night as a result and I had to field work-related calls while at the sugar bush with my kids today and that was also very NOT fun.

Our latest obsession is watching American Crime Story: The People Vs. OJ Simpson which, I know, I was as surprised as anyone that it is THE BEST SHOW ON TELEVISION RIGHT NOW.  And look: I make it a habit of watching the very best curated television.  There were SO MANY strikes against this, coming out of the gate (mixed sports metaphor, say what!): a Ryan Murphy pedigree (I've never liked anything he's done), stunt casting, a story that we already know, from every angle, and that could so easily be played for lurid, grotesque, People magazine-like titillation.

The thing is: it doesn't do any of those things.  It is that perfect mix of staying on the tasteful side of camp and so incredibly entertaining, while framing this ground-breaking case within the paradigm-shifting intellectual/cultural context.  It is because of this that we have reality television.  I went back and checked, Survivor debuted almost 10 years after this trial.  We have the birth of the Kardashians as an entity.  We have racial politics playing out in a very visible way in the courtroom - and by the way, nothing has changed!  We have the 24 hour media cycle elevating ordinary people to the level of celebrity, we have tabloid culture, racial dynamics, feminism...it has everything.  The casting is PERFECT.  Like, the most perfect.  David Schwimmer as Robert Kardashian is everything.  Sarah Paulson is perfection.  John Travolta as Bob Shapiro is the role of a lifetime and he is NAILING IT.

I seriously want to go back to grad school so I can write a million papers about this.  It is so ripe for a densely layered reading.  Anyway, the episode "Marcia, Marcia, Marcia" that focused on Marcia Clark was so real from a feminist, working mom perspective.

This was made very real for me when things blew up at work and I got called in yesterday and was putting out a fire.  I was like, YES MARCIA, I GET YOU.  When I was methodically going through all the kids clothes, I was like, YES MARCIA, THIS WOMAN'S WORK IS HARD STUFF.

We were debriefing about my no good, terrible, very bad day yesterday and the Dotytron made a solid observation about how the amount of training you receive on a job counterintuitively gets less the more professional and important your job is.  It's so true.  He was like, "It's like, when you're a teenager they're like, 'this is how you cut a bagel - no, not that way! - this way - ," and no one trains him on anything to do with being a teacher.  You're just expected to learn on the job.  Which I get in terms of the minutae of how you do your actual job...but I feel like people don't get training on process, or administrative procedures either?  Which is totally weird.  When I was a cashier at Loblaws, I had to go to Loblaws central and I was tested on PLU (produce) codes for like, 2 days, before I stepped foot in the store.

I'm also obsessed with this seasons of Girls (which I have been watching from day one because I am a good quasi-Millennial, but which really picked up for me in season 5 and now I legit love it), and Broad City, and anything to do with the Duplass brothers.  I LOVE ME SOME DUPLASS BROTHERS.  I want to be the meat in a Duplass brothers sandwich.

They are so smart and funny and they were seminal in the development of "mumblecore" movies and they care.  They executive produced Tangerine, which is about trans women in downtown LA.  Jay Duplass is in Transparent, which is another current favorite show.  Mark Duplass is a good actor and they're just amazing.  We started watching their show Togetherness which makes really astute observations about (heteronormative) relationships at a certain point.  I just love them.

Anyway, where was I?  Oh yeah, work was stressful.  March Break has been semi-fun, and semi-stressful and by Tuesday mid-day I was like, that was the LONGEST day and a quarter of my LIFE.  Yesterday was a write-off, but the Dotytron and I did manage to go out to eat (more on that later).  Today we took the kids to Bruce's Mill Conservation Area to go to their maple syrup festival.  It was actually really fun.

We've had some pretty low key weekends which is good - we're sticking to one day of socializing and keeping Sundays for nature walks and being chill, even if it does result in Twin B complaining, "I don't want to go for nature walks!" on the regular.  Haha.  We had an epic snowball fight at the Brickworks on the last snowy day.  The Dotytron took the Big Yam to a birthday party at Laserquest and was the only adult to participate and came in second place (proudly) (at a 7 year old's birthday party).

I also made the kids these double-sided fall/spring neckwarmers and they've been a big hit.  It was nice to get back to sewing - I've taken a long sewing hiatus over the winter.  My goal is to make Twin B his quilt before he turns three!  Then the one after that is a big quilt (queen sized, minimum), for me.  Then I'll probably start all over again with quilts for the kids as the Big Yam is already outgrowing his crib sized one.

The Days Are Long...

but the years are short.

Have truer words on the subject of parenting ever been spoken?

Five years ago, I brought home this alien-fingered, round-headed, fat Chinaman of a baby.  I turn around, and 1825 days have passed and I have a goofy, irrepressible, sweet, risk-averse, bit of a scaredy-cat, loved-up five year old on my hands.  One that still wakes up at an ungodly hour and will sneak into our bed.  One that implores us to "make the blankets flat!" every night when we tuck him in.  One that will ask, "will you lie with me for a bit?" still, even when he's on the brink of being asleep.  One that has (unfortunately) adopted my deplorable habit of using "stupid" as a modifier.  One that told me last week that I was the "stupidest dumb mama ever."  One that makes me go berserk.  One that makes me scoop up all his Legos into a plastic bag and hide them out of sight in a fit of berserk.

Sigh.  Parenting is a trip, man.  I'm not sure that I'm getting any better at it, but I am a little dismayed that I've already f**ked up five years.  THE YEARS BEFORE FIVE LAST THE REST OF THEIR LIVES!  I need a do-over.    The fact that I get to do it with Dotytron from high school is another trip.  Last week we celebrated 14 years together.  FOURTEEN YEARS!  Look at what babies we were:

Look at us now:

We went to a newish restaurant, Dandylion.  It's a big, rustic-industrial space - exposed HVAC, marble-topped tables, lots of plants (a bit of a rarity in restaurant design).  That particular rainy, cold, drizzly night it was warm and cozy and intimate.  Despite all the exposed brick and hard surfaces, it wasn't too loud.  They have a very pared down menu.  Three appetizers, three mains, three desserts, and a beer list that's about as long as the wine list.

They started us off with warm, house made sour dough bread and fresh cheese (think, the best boursin you've ever had), with shallots and black pepper.  We were rather unseemly with the speed at which this was consumed.

Smoked scallops (I'm DEFINITELY going to be throwing scallops in my smoker, now), tender and juicy and briny with a celery root remoulade, with sea asparagus.

Raw red deer tartare in endive with horseradish and breadcrumbs. This dish was outstanding.  The scattering of ragged toasted bread was delicious toasted texture against the clean, almost sashimi-like protein of the deer.  It's so much nicer than your standard steak tartare with the toasts.  I loved this dish.  It was so delicious. Unlike steak tartare, which is usually mixed with all the standard accoutrements, you could really taste the clean, slightly tannic wildness of the meat.  

Pumpkin miso risotto.  This bowl was the epitome of earthiness.  The umami of the miso, against the sweetness of the squash - each bite punctuated with barely cooked pieces of bouncy, meaty mushrooms - the deep round flavours highlighted with the grassy notes of the sprouts.  It was like eating the forest floor - in the best possible way.

Duck, pear, and roasted kale. Tender roasted pear pieces, perfectly cooked, sapid duck, with kale that is the essence of kale-ness contrasted with crunchy, popping bits of roasted buckwheat.  

The balance of flavours and textures at this restaurant is so advanced. The chef eschews heavy sauces in favour of a really nuanced, concentrated balance of flavours and an attention to texture that you don't see in a lot of restaurants.  The cooking is very focused, and inventive.  This is a chef who has the vision and skills to practice restraint.  I loved this place and would go back again.  I loved that it wasn't that hyper-masculine "more is more" style of meat-heavy, and just plain heavy-heavy cooking that was in style for a long time.  I loved that this chef had a voice and really focused on the food without gimmicks and without overloading the plate.  The trick was that the cooking is elevated enough so that you feel like you're being treated, without being overloaded with a "concept."  Highly recommend.

We went to visit my sister on the weekend, after a visit to the ER to get Quincess' head stitched up.  The twins convinced me to let them sit on our regular dining table chairs instead of their high chairs, which resulted in first, Lindsay soaking Quincess's upper half with the vinegar-water cleaning spray we use to clean off their highchairs.  Then, halfway through their lunch, I was in the kitchen and saw Quincess fall off his chair.  In Quincess fashion, he of course went head-first and I picked him up and he had a gash on his head.  A small one, but it was deep.  The ER doctors decided to use the glue instead of stitches to put his head back together, because stitches are "traumatic" for the kid and the parent.  In retrospect, I would have gone with the stitches because my kids are very chill when it comes to doctors.  Exhibit A of Quincess falling asleep on the table as they were gluing up his head:

They glued it, plastered it with steristrips, and then because I warned them that his "twin brother is a maniac" they added gauze and tape. Cut to two hours later when we're in the car on the way to my sister's and the Quincess has picked ALL the bandages off and opened up the cut and has blood streaming down his face.

   

   

  These two card sharks learned how to play War this weekend. 

 Anyway, we had a lovely time and hung with my family and celebrated my nephew's birthday.  The 

children's museum there, which is the best that I've ever been to, was having some kind of Star Wars-themed thing that weekend so we went on the first day.  The Big Yam and Little Little Cuz totally got into the cosplay and there were a bunch of photo ops with various figures.  Quincess at first said, "No, thanks" to meeting Darth Vader but then later, when a Stormtrooper waved at him and reached out his hand for a high-five, the Quincess misinterpreted the gesture and put his tiny little hand in the Stormtrooper's.  It was friggin' adorable.

We were standing off to the side of this meet and greet and unbeknownst to me, Quincess was quietly doing an open-close hand shy wave to the characters.  They waved us over and we got to jump the queue for this photo.

The wind machine is so key. Such a classy touch. LOL!

It feels frivolous to write a post like this in the aftermath of the coordinated attacks in Beirut and Paris.  I was up late on Saturday night, my mind spinning after an intense debate with my sister, outlaw bro, and the Dotytron on what has been happening on the campuses at Yale and Missouri.  I was thinking about my family, my children, about the chubby guy in his homemade Han Solo costume, about the joy and creativity in this pretend world of absolute good and evil, of empires and rebels.  And yes, while it is frivolous in the face of the atrocities perpetrated by humanity and against humanity on a daily basis, to say nothing of what these events do to reveal the ignorance, fear, and violence that simmers just below the surface of so many (I had an active day de-friending bigots on Facebook, and it was very satisfying), I was also heartened by this frivolity.  Playing dress-up, sincerity, investment, laughter, silliness, and the multitude of tiny moments that combine to make up long days, collected in a blur to make for this rapid succession of short years, is what we're all striving for, and what life is made of.  People will prevail in making and living those tiny moments, and the knowledge of this is profoundly comforting in a world that can seem at times, to be without reason.

Fin.

Kids Say the Darnedest Things...

Yam and Wonder Twins edition.

I rebelled against regulatory red tape and sent the Big Yam into school on Friday with homemade cupcakes for his birthday.  The line from schools is that you're generally supposed to bring in store bought treats but the idea of bringing in grocery store cupcakes in those little plastic clam shell containers broke me inside, so I said, F**K IT, PREMIER MOM, I'M CELEBRATING THE BIG YAM TURNING FIVE IN STYLE.  I asked the Big Yam how they went over, and he said, (and I quote), "Everyone. Freaked. Out." LOL!

Our household accounts for about 1 million of those 6 million views.

My kids are obsessed with orchestral, instrumental music.  Like, OBSESSED.  The Studio Ghibli anniversary concert is back in heavy rotation, and Quincess has taken to pretending to conduct and he mimics Joe Hisaishi's hand motions and it's freakin' adorable.  Other scores in rotation are the theme from How to Train Your Dragon (which seriously makes me cry when the French horns kick in. Every single time), Peter and the Wolf, and Pirates of the Caribbean.  So. Much. Pirates of the Caribbean.  Whenever we hop in Eddie Van Halen the request comes for Pirates of the Caribbean.  To the point where, last weekend, after we had finished one round of the theme, out of nowhere, Quincess said, "I love Pirates of the Caribbean. I love it."  in his cute little lisping Quincess voice and it was so sweet and pure.  That is his first ever unprompted "I love ___" and it was triggered by a Klaus Badelt score?!  My kids are weirdos.

Not in situ, but still cute nonetheless

Lindsay is very good at showing when he's unimpressed with something (which happens a lot, because he is unimpressed when he doesn't get his own way, and about 98.78% of his life is lived in the pursuit of requesting his own way).  He scowls, his brows lower, he purses his lips and then he talks in a growly, stubborn voice.  The other night, at dinner, as he was getting choosy over which green beans we were putting on his plate, we heard this from him: "No want that one bean. Want this one bean. ALL DAY." In his scowling, pouty, low voice.   LOL!  We died laughing.

Thanksgiving, man.  What's better?  Nothing.  We spent the weekend with family, eating good food, going on nature hikes, thinking about how the two best people in the world (Dr. Rei and Hanbo) got hitched, thinking about how my Big Yam is now five (!!!!!), celebrating his birthday, and getting lit on the good vibes.  It was a good time, though a bit of a whirlwind.

I measured the Big Yam against his closet door frame and the kid has grown about 10cm (close to 4") in a year.  UMMM...IS THAT LEVEL OF GROWTH SUSTAINABLE?!?  He's only FIVE?!??!!!  Is he Andre the Giant?

 On the first of two nature hikes we undertook.  Our attempt to get a decent family photo thwarted by: my crazy hair, my crazy smile, my crazy outfit, the Big Yam's inveterate goofiness, the impossibility of getting all the kids looking in the direction of a camera at the same time without (and oftentimes with) serious coercion

 This 2 photo series cracks me up.  Quincess' mouth is stuffed with one of the Belgian waffles that are a Farmer's Market staple for us

This seriously might be as good as the Xmas card this year gets, folks.

 Love this pic of my sibs and all our SOs

 The Thanksgiving table!  Featuring 15 people all crammed around in my mouse house

 My bird

The plate: my bird, my sausage-sage stuffing, my gravy, Manda's mashed potatoes, my sis' green bean casserole (to die for) and squash puree

One of two desserts: pumpkin pie with salted caramel and whipped cream

The Big Yam's smile!

The Big Yam's birthday cake - chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and salted caramel buttercream

Even though we pooched the picture day outfit, the Big Yam saved us with this hilariousness.  Ummm...why does he look like a 23 year old?!?

 An enchilada casserole that I froze over a year (!) ago, brought out for Taco Tuesday.  It was good.

I used leftover turkey (the sinewy dark meat parts from the drumstick and the firm parts from the wing) in this turkey and wild rice soup.  I served it with my go-to cheddar sage biscuits (I omit the bacon).  The soup turned out very thick and required a lot of thinning with extra broth/water/cream.  Next time, I'd keep the flour portion at 1/4 cup instead of 1/2 cup.  It tasted like the best parts of Thanksgiving dinner, reimagined.

This was my first week at the new job.  I love having a private office (!) and the work is interesting, although because I worked right up until last Friday, my head is in two places...this weekend will be a nice chance for me to decompress and get myself back into the headspace.

Fin.