Have I mentioned that I love fall? This kind of fall, I mean, where you sleep with the windows open and wake up to a crisp morning, but by lunchtime, you’re walking around in jeans and a light jacket and totally happy it’s not the other kind of fall, the kind where you have to put the heat on and make sure the kids have hats and you curse the frost on your windshield (for those of us knuckleheads who bought houses without garages, I mean–not you intelligent types) as you scrape it off in a rush so your daughters aren’t late for school. Not that kind.
Here’re a couple of of fun thoughts to while away your Friday afternoon:
- I grew up in a small town, as you know. You also probably know that I vowed I would never, ever return to that small town (ewwww, small towns, I thought, with their tiny cultural scenes and cute restaurants and niche theaters). So I moved to the city. And witnessed an armed mugging, but whateves. Small towns, ewwww. But now that we live in the ‘burbs, we’re trying to figure out what we want to have next in terms of house and location. I drive a minivan. I like real grocery stores. I sometimes wear shoes that should not be muddied. But I keep daydreaming of trees and fields and grass and hills, and then I went with SK on her field trip to an orchard about a half hour away, an orchard in the middle of nowhere and saw THIS, well. Now I want to move to the hills. The phone picture does not do the view justice, but you get the idea. Just build me a house in the middle of one of those fields, and I’m set for life. So long as Wegmans is an easy ten-minute drive away., of course.
- About two months ago, I went in to see my hairdresser. I was over the sun-bleached highlights, and am trying to grow my hair back out from my mother-daughter bonding episode with Saoirse in the beginning of the summer, and wanted a change. And even though there was a slight miscommunication with whatever chemical process happened in that demi-permanent hair color as it was being mixed, I was sort of happy with my new, rather vibrant auburn hair. Until I went home, that is, and Quinn looked at me with concern. “Why is your hair pink, Mommy?” She touched a strand of it like it was leaking noxious fumes. “Did you leave your other hair back at the place?” And: “Can you go back and get it?”. That was fun to hear. So now that my shoulder-length hair is back to being a shade almost exactly resembling the color God intended me to have, I found–a little too late–some hair advice for those of us in our (ahem) 30s. You’ll see that I’ve already easily broken most of them.
- If you have access to the Internet, and have not caught wind of Humans of New York, go to there. Now. Each post is like a little mediation on life and humanity, which totally qualifies you not finishing that last item on your to-do list to go look at them.
- I made this 10-minute tomato soup for the girls the other day, and they declared their everlasting love for it. Then David tried it and actually exclaimed his agreement. I subbed in homemade corn stock for the canned chicken stock (it’s easy: just throw corn cobs without their kernels [I keep a stash in the freezer], water, a couple of bay leaves, a chopped onion and two smashed or chopped cloves of garlic with a little salt into a crock pot for 6-8 hours. You can also do the same with the bones from a roast chicken, and voila: stock.), but this recipe took no time (well, other than those ten minutes) and is kid-perfect. Don’t skip the maple syrup, and go easy on the lemon juice. Odd combo, but your pint-sized (and not-so-) people will love you for it.
- Are you on Twitter? You should follow @GoogleEarthPics. You’ll see why.
- Jake Gyllenhall in a man bun. I am not a happy woman.
- You may have seen the Internet-scandal-of-the-week that is Maria Kang’s “What’s Your Excuse?” photo. A couple of people with wildly differing views weigh in on this, and I thought, if you’re someone who’s birthed a kid, you might be interested. As much as I like Matt Walsh’s blog, I don’t really agree with him here. I am all about exercising and taking care of yourself, just as he says, but “perfect” is a lifestyle–one that Kang is embodying–and also one that takes as much focus and mental energy as a full-time job. I look at Kang’s photo and yes, like this blogger, I think it’s accusatory. Women see enough in magazines (the fact that Kate Hudson is sharing that she had to cut back on her cashew intake?) and tabloids and blogs telling them to be perfect, they forget the recipe for health is, as my non-expert-but-right-on brother says, simply: Eat Less. Move More. That’s it. It’s not an imperative to life a life hoping to make others jealous. Now, time to move on:
- I plan on making this this weekend. When I was at the market yesterday I asked the farmer (’cause I was in the middle of nowhere, at an orchard, remember? THEY HAVE FARMERS THERE.) about cooking pumpkins. She looked at me sidelong, handed me this great curve-necked creature of a squash, then said, “Uh. I would just open a can.” So wish me luck.
Have a great weekend, everybody. Hope it’s more light-jacket-fall than gloves-and-scarf-fall for you.