Have I ever been busy.  Whoa.

I took a "honeymoon" with my hubby 9 years late to Portland, Oregon.  Portland... how I love thee.  Every restaurant, pub, coffee shop and bookstore seems to have it's own brewery.  I have chipotle beer, which may have permanently changed my life for the better.  We luckily hit Cinco De Mayo, so the food was stellar everywhere we went except on shitty Italian place too close to hotels.  There is so, so much Vancouver can learn from this city... mainly, relax your damn rules!  All over Portland are food cart "ghettoes", parking lots chock full of amazing eats from all over the world, and so cheap!!! (Perhaps it has something to do with Americans not having to pay over 300% the world price for dairy? Hmm?) The streets were spotless, the people were friendly, the coffee amazing, the beer left me speechless. (It totally did not, I talked my face off, but go figure! I was drinking.)  The vintage clothing stores.... O.M.G.  The art in the city was unpretentious, quirky as fuck, and absolutely everywhere.  I want to go back as soon as humanly possible.  (Oh yeah, I scored the French Laundry Cookbook!!!!)

My hubby became a lawyer!! Woot Woot!!! 8 years of work, loans, tears and beers, and this man I first knew as the drink-till-you-puke and then drink some more is allowed to legally represent people in a court of law.  In front of a judge. Mind Blown.  Proud does not cover it, so I cooked. Open house, peeps and parents. I made over 20 dishes, all fancy, not a single photograph. I am the world's worst food blogger.  We had a ceasar bar, which was not complete until my friend Jose Doraz showed up as he is the best bartender I currently know.  We had "mimosas" when a friend discovered my pink grapefruit granita elevated a glass of champagne into something truly magnificent.  There were creme brulees, caviar and lox, white chocolate mousse, poached quails eggs on tiny spoons, ceviche, blue cheese and walnuts, a beautiful cheese tray thanks to appropriately priced American cheese (O say can you seeeEEeeeEEE) salmon tartare with red onion creme fraiche, gingersnap tubes filled with marscapone and candied ginger, roasted beet salad in endive, Chinese slaw in wonton cups, and the typical Italian antipasto tray.  And probably more.  And NOT A SINGLE DAMN PHOTO. I am so mad at myself,  And how do you cap that off?  With smores around our outdoor fire pit in the middle of Vancouver, of course.  Just perfect.

We went to the Ladner MayDays carnival, which was wonderful.  The kids dragged Dad on the tilt-a-whirl so many times I thought he was going to fall over.  Free pony rides.  Paddleboats. An artisan market.  Every ride you could want. A WestCoast Seeds store.  Sunshine!!!

I got a new nephew! He's so handsome. I got to hold him, smell him, perhaps tear up a tiny bit.

I got chosen (suckered) to be head of fundraising for my kids' schools' PAC next year, as the government is tearing down the old playground in three years and not replacing it and I have to raise 80,000 dollars. I hate the way our government treats our education system.

My kids did their first Sports Day at their new school and totally rocked the bike parade.  I, of course, had nothing to do with that.

I also did their annual back-to-back birthday parties, in my typical rabid manner, but I have one more brag (yes, I realize I'm a braggart right now, but holy crap did I ever get a lot done! And as this is my "job" I feel it's okay to share what I have accomplished.  IN YOUR FACE.)

I learned marshmallow fondant and filled my son's ultimately doable request for a Super Mario cake, so much better than the precious years request of a replica of a 6 foot tall potted fern. (Weird kid, alright?)  I have many friends to thank for all of the achievements listed above, so in the spirit of forgetting no one, I will mention no one.  But you all know I love you, right? Hello?

I

Death of a Mac

So after years of abusing our mac, she went belly-up.  This means all my pictures are safely on a hard drive I cannot currently access.  Pictures of the gorgeous lemon-meringue cupcakes I made, the fabulous dinners, the adorable kidlets.  We replaced Ms. Mac with a <gasp> PC, and I'm still adjusting to my new partner.  So far, we really don't see eye to eye.  In other news, my folks came for a visit, and brought me an early birthday pressie: running shorts, pants, t-shirts, etc.  This is amazing, because prior to this I ran in my hubby's old Aerosmith T and his PJ pants, and I was waiting for an officer to give chase as I most likely looked like I just knocked off a liquor store, albeit slowly and methodicallyand dripping sweat.
We went to Science World: it is now worth the admission! Beautifully renovated, high ceilings and lovely windows over the ocean give you 16 feet of grey light all day long!  It's nice to finally have the renos mostly done, for sure.  I had a 9 day flu with the kids in which I laid in bed and they watched an entire lifetime's worth of television, both hot with fever as well. In the middle of the flu, we did manage a few hours on the picket line for the teachers (another pic I cannot access) and it was wonderful, aside from the near-fainting spell.  Our VSB 2 week spring break extravaganza is nearing an end, and I'm going to miss the little life-suckers being around all the time.  So there's my post for now, off to figure out this picture on a pc thing.  Hearts!!

I have been busy!!

Getting really crappy at this blogging thing, mostly because suddenly this site puts pictures I enter wherever the heck it feels like, making my pages very confusing and annoying to publish.  I have learned to make bread, quite well I think.  (I have also gained 10 pounds, which I believe is completely unrelated.) Aren't they beautiful??  I made a cheddar loaf and a cinnamon raisin loaf, I have done a bunch of plain white and whole wheat, I have a sourdough starter going that is either perfect or will kill us all, and I love my KitchenAid mixer.  It's all kinds of awesome. 

And... I made my first duck! I did it a l'orange, which was amazing because I finally made sugar my bitch.  Caramelizing sugar has long been a fear of mine, but I have conquered it with very few explosions and even made pralines!  The duck was good enough I suppose, but it was hard to gauge due to the fact that the only other duck a l'orange I have ever had was in a tiny rustic dining hall high up in the French Alps which I am quite sure I will never be able to come close to. 

I'll finish this food oriented post with this morning's breakfast:  Greek yogourt, mango, blueberry and raspberry with a drizzle of honey.  The kids thought it was a holiday or something!!  Now I'm off to get groceries, go skating, and check out the brand new lego store that opens today that my son found out about at school and will not stop talking about!!  Yay!!

The Christmas Tree

Well, my tree is up, and it's beautiful.  Gone are the days of our early marriage where the laughable theme was "Santa threw up" and the tree was bombarded with cast off broken ornaments from family and friends.  I look now and see my beautiful swarovski ornaments glistening in the lights, one for every year we've been married, the wax gingerbread men from my childhood that smell like gingerbread, marked with tiny teeth marks of both my brother and I and all of my children, all having decided at one point to see if they tasted as good as they smelled.  There's real gingerbread ornaments from 3 years ago when I made a horrid batch so we, as a family, decorated them and hung them on the tree.  (Yes, you can go so wrong with baking that it never goes bad.)  There's hideous angels from Chris' Nonna (rest her soul) that scream Italian Catholic, there's an awful wicker angel from my grandmother.  The baby's first Christmas ornaments from my 3 children,  3 brass ornaments from when I was a child and my mother had a "brass party" and made stuffed mushroom caps that I was not allowed to eat until the company arrived.  The felt mice I made with the children for all our friends last year that I remembered how to make from helping my friend Janine's mom make them for Christmas Chaos many, many years ago.  The hand beaded, lopsided, jiffy markered beauties from my children's preschool days, the glass ball filled with glitter and marked "Tabitha" for my first marital pet.  Candy Canes older than me, and new ones the children can eat, the Snowbells I sold in grade 3 door to door, and the beautiful newer ones that my mom buys me a few of every year.  As I sit staring at the beauty of so many years come together, I was struck with the realization of how many of these come from our combined families past, and how these are no longer my memories.  They belong to my children, who will one day hang some of these same ornaments, lifting the littlest one to reach the very top to put the star on, singing along to A Very Twisted Christmas, or more likely by then, crunking along to a very Bieber Christmas or something.  I still use the stocking my Grandmother made me, black with my name in felt on it.  Perhaps this is the year to make my own children's stockings anew, something they can use for a lifetime.  Religious or not, Christmas is such a magical time in our home because it brings so many elements- family, history, memories- together in a swirling, sparkling display.  It's such a blissed out, peaceful feeling of living for so much more than yourself, of building memories for these little people that you would kill for, and lovely reminiscings to share on an old porch with my husband when we're very, very old.  A sappy post, I know, but it had to be done.  It's all about the love.  And the chocolate.

Fun Things do to with your Homestay Student

See how many marshmallows she can fit into her mouth at once!  We miss you Manami!

Also, teach her the words "hangover", "advil", and "bastard.  All in one night!  (Fat Bastard wine was behind that one.)  The end, i just really wanted to use this pic.

Conversation with my Husband

Me: So, the guy came to install the house alarm today... he was a beautiful black man... wait, can I say "black man"? African-Canadian? 
Hubby: I think black is okay, they don't seem to mind.
Me: So there's black people and white people, can I call East Indians "brown"? or Chinese "yellow" then?
Hubby: they're just "Indians", and no, you can't.
Me: So there's black and white and then everyone else you name by culture? This is so confusing.

I have been basically banned by my friends from using the term "lesbian", but "gay" seems to be fine thus far.  Apparently I label people too much, but how do you describe then?  This alarm guy was beautiful because he was black.  He had that football build, the dark dark skin with the white teeth and the deep voice and it just takes too long to say it this way.  I've had friends even attempt to use zee instead of he or she, but you know what?  If someone mugs me and I'm giving a police report, I am going to say it was a Chinese Man.  Or whatever.  I like the idea of putting whatever you want in the gender category of passports (Go Australia!) but there are times when racial and sexual descriptors are necessary.  If you invite me to a birthday party for your "partner" whom I have never met, I want to know if I should bring wine with a schmaltzy label like "Bitch" or scotch.  Actually, most my friends are lawyers so scotch always works.  But there are situations where old fashioned, racist sexist language works for me.  I'm old school, alright?  I still tell the kids I'll tape something for them (They humour me), I still "dial" a telephone (no longer a dial or a tele), I made a reference to "Pigs in Space" from the Muppet Show today to be met by the blank stare of my (slightly younger) friend.  Here's an idea folks, look behind the words to the meaning the person using them intended.  I love people, most people.  (Exceptions: Prowlers, Jehovah's Witnesses on my doorstep, crazy people on the bus that try to touch my son's red hair.)  And I think Black People (African-Canadian? How far removed from Africa do you have to be till that no longer applies?) are a beautiful race, male and female.  They're just built better.

Bring on the hate mail.  I'm trying.

How to tell if you're a Stay at Home Mommy

There are some serious indicators i do not leave the house enough.  Here are some of them:
My evening nightcap is often a jagerbomb.
I start crafting Halloween costumes in May, but do not start Christmas crap until Dec. 23rd.   (Metrotown Mall on Dec. 23rd is a special level of hell, I assure you.  Much, much more so with kids in tow.  Hello, jagerbomb.)
My first meal almost every day is at 3:15 pm and it's usually crackers and cheese, or whatever the kidlets have for an afterschool snack.
Telemarketers are officially afraid to call me.  Haven't heard from one in months.
I have a huge to-do list everyday, and mostly don't do any of it.  I do have fresh lime-raspberry loaf right now though.  No, no pics.  I'm so lame.
I have like 8 gold trophies on Plants Vs. Zombies, because I'm so awesome.
I got to go for a mammogram yesterday and I was so, so excited about it!!  Yay Squishiness!!!  (FYI women, they feel like a million stinging wasps in your bra.  Not pleasant.  But the nurses were super nice.)
I'm really enjoying the books my children bring home from school.  For example, my son brought home a superhero alphabet book which included "W" woman, who is wet, wild, and willing.  Maybe not quite that inappropriate, but it raised eyebrows.  She was also "wonderful" to look at.  At least he's learning the alphabet?
I have started singing, because I am an extrovert and I need to hear voices, or I'll be hearing the bad kind of voices, and that benefits no one except JP Domino who can use me for a case study one day.  I suck at singing, am the polar opposite of every Disney "heroine".  Birds fly into windows on purpose when I sing.  I know this is on purpose because my windows are filthy and birds aren't that stupid.
I drink 2 cups of coffee every morning, then get jittery and panicky, then do yoga, then hurt myself and lay on the couch.
I'm too smart for the new fall lineup (2 Broke Girls? Painful. TerraNova? Write something new.) But I watch them anyway, because All My Children just finished it's million-year-run so Susan Lucci can peel off her flesh to expose a Hellraiser-type-Succubus in private.
When I get bored, I cook, way too much, then panic at the amount of food I have made and inevitably end up with a somewhat surprise dinner party of 11 and panic about that.

I have all the time in the world, but no time at all, it seems.  And that glorious napping thing I had planned on?  Not with this much coffee jostling for space in my veins.  Well, I have to run, the sewer guys are coming tomorrow and I'm going to bake them a cake.  (serious.)