Saturday, July 29, 2006

Bread, wine, whine, water.

I have found a spelt bread at our regular grocery store that I like every bit as much as light rye, and which freezes wonderfully. To thaw it in a hurry I just pop it in the toaster, or nuke it for 30 seconds. I hope it stays around forever. It's not the perfect wheatless alternative for everybody because it contains yeast, but that's not a problem for me. Hoo hah.

Today's Globe and Mail had a piece on Opimian, a wine club that seems affordable and unpretentious. I'm tempted; if we did it right, it wouldn't put us out of more money than we already spend on wine.

We're going to try to get up to the cottage tomorrow, where food happiness doesn't live. Our fridge and stove are kaput, and we have only a microwave, barbecue, indoor grill and mini-fridge that has room for six pop cans. So why am I complaining? It's the fridgelessness. We can't keep everything we'd like to cook fresh for very long, so we always have to have some yucky canned stuff. On other hand, I'm hoping that the hot, rainy summer we're having will make for a bumper crop of wild blueberries. In any case, between the long drive, tiny baby, and low water levels on the river...wish us well.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

New toys.

I bought a new laptop from Dell two days ago. My subconscious crunched numbers all night last night. This morning, I realized that I'd buggered up my order and I could have gotten a slightly faster processor and a free carrying case for the same system for $60.

Oh, well. $60 buys a lot of groceries.

I'll still be getting about twice the computer as my old one, at less than one third of the price I paid for my old one four years ago. My old one is sufficiently kinked that it won't recognise any new software on it anymore (yes, I'm sure there's some laborious way I could have gone about fixing that), won't defragment without crashing, won't allow a spyware sweep without crashing, won't burn CDs without crashing, and is missing two keys. Definitely new toy time.


I'm curious about Vox, as it seems a way to combine the elements of customisability, public blogging, and friends-only blogging that I like, and might be an alternative to being stretched between LJ and Blogger, which is my current situation. I'd like to get my hands on an invite, and then I'd have to decide which of the multitude of usernames in my life I would use. Of course, the community aspect of such a site works only if others use it too. Food for thought, anyway.

In other news, I've eaten two slices of pumpkin pie this morning, and I ain't done yet. I'm even hungrier as a nursing mom than I was while pregnant, and that's saying something.

Saturday, July 22, 2006

Too much?

I think I did too much in the first few weeks after our baby was born. Two family gatherings, plus as many visits to us in two weeks as we usually have in a year, multiple meetings of our choir's search committee to find us a new director, and my father's medical appointments. Now, despite being stronger and more capable, I'm gun-shy, and nervous about every little thing. I think I need to make up for lost hermit time and take it easy, and say "no" just a little more.

Cooking dinner is a juggling act. I might get a pot of water on the stove before the baby awakes and fusses, but then it boils and boils before I can reach it again because we're nursing.

I can melt butter in the pan, or heat oil, but must take the pan off the stove because the baby will stir in the next room, and there won't be time to get the minced garlic in and out before it burns unless I'm prepared to let the baby scream for a bit. I'm not. B. can soothe the baby to a point, but not if the baby thinks it's time to nurse. He's also too busy with his course to cook every night, so I still do a fair bit of it.

So meals are completed in tiny steps, and are not perfect. I'm anxious as B. and I plan the week's meals, because I'm envisioning hopping around frantically, trying not to scald myself or let the baby scream.

I shouldn't be so anxious. This is a brief, precious time in our lives, and the inconvenience of it shouldn't worry me. And it wouldn't if I had been able to sit tight just a little more for those first few weeks.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

...and Bad New Age Music

Idiot that I am, I agreed to take on a new oboe student, and her first lesson is today. So now every time the baby spares me for a few minutes, I clean something. No new student from a spotless monster home in Willowdale is going to see hair and Prep-H wrappers on my bathroom floor, even if I did just have a baby that absolves me from housework.

The cradle swing has already proven a blessing, as the baby is finally big enough to sit in it without crumpling into a woeful-looking heap. But the music. Oh, the music. What gawdawful New Age schlock. To think that someone is probably earning a neat salary for having composed that crap - now I know what I should be doing for a living.

Babies, basil, baseball, blobdom.

Dear coffee: I love you.

Pardon the sporadic updates. My life has been hit by a baby bomb. When the darling infant stops nursing long enough for me to do anything, I do a snatch of housework - dishes, taking down the recycling, washing poop-stained onesies, etc. Speaking of which, how does one get poop stains out of onesies easily without using stinky stain remover? Ah, my life. Nice to see it's boiled down to the Big Life Questions.

I have been watching an uncharacteristically large amount of TV, now that I'm in constant nursing mode. Now that the World Cup is over, it's all out the baseball and the Food Network. I saw Giada de Laurentiis make deep-fried mozzarella grilled cheese sandwiches twice, and figured I could do that myself without consulting the recipe. It was a mess, and I forgot the salt so it was as bland as, well, a really bland thing, but I can work with it and improve it. I also used basil from the balcony, and that always pleases me!

When Italy won the World Cup, I made spaghetti with meat sauce from a United Way fundraiser cookbook put out by North York Public Health a million moons ago. My meat sauce is getting better each time I make it - yea, verily, I dream about it by day.