Archive for ‘domesticity’

July 11, 2013

rx

1. hire a babysitter to play with eldest while youngest naps 2 x per wk. clean during this time.

2. hydrate (and drink lavender-mint tea in large quantities).

3. detox: eat more salad and less bread.

4. be in the sun as often as possible.

5. be present during play time (immerse, indulge, bring and receive joy and love exchanges).

6. nap in the afternoon whilst the dependents sleep / rest.

7. make dinner early, clean up early, have the dependents fed, bathed and in bed early.

8. yoga q 1 x per 24hr period and prn.

9. bed by 930 for book time.

10. lights out at 10.

May 31, 2013

i’m a bit run down but i’m alright

we’ve been home from our last getaway for almost a week and, though we have almost settled back in to our life, i remain over-the-top exhausted. upon reflection, perhaps i shouldn’t have socialized 4 nights in a row. considering 4 social events in a week surpasses my (anti) social activity in the last year, it’s a real wonder what i was thinking. shit balls.

needless to say, it’s friday and i’m lazy tired so i’ve gone and pulled out the ol’ slow cooker. “why is it reasonable to consider a slow cooked stew-ish meal this late in spring?”,  you ask? because i live on the west coast and she rains. oh, does she rain. i’m damp in my bones and as far as i’m concerned, that calls for comfort food.

so, as i sit here relishing the quiet that can only come from nap time, my slow cooker is cooking us all up some healthy and hearty chili. and, because everyone loves cheesy flour product, i will soon get off my ass and prepare us some cheesy bannock too. first i thought i’d pretend i was quaint and post a couple recipes for you. deal?

be advised: there will be no pinterest inspired photos or other forms of quasi-adorableness, i don’t roll that way. just words dude, just words.

if you are still with me, congratulations! you won’t be disappointed by the bannock.

the recipe comes from a woman i knew in a former life and in her northern tundra circle it has won awards, which says a lot. it’s fab for a whole host of reasons but i dig it because it’s delicious, easy, and can me modified with yummy additions should you be so inspired.

we add cheese sometimes, dill and rosemary to accompany our family’s winter staple: salmon stew, and cranberries with orange rinds when i want to pretend i’m a cute mom (unfortunately, i mow down most, if not all, of the final product before it makes it in to my son’s lunch bag so my chance of bring noticed are literally eaten up).

as for the chili, i made it up as i’ve been known to do, but i have provided the vague details below (that counts as a recipe, no?) in case you feel brave. note: it makes tons so you can freeze and enjoy again.

9 bean chilli

need:

– 1 cup of dried bean and lentil mix, soaked for 24 hours in 2 cups of agua pre slow cooker fate

– 1 kg lean ground turkey

– 2 sweet onions, diced (or hacked up, as it were)

– 4 large carrots, chopped

– 1 bunch of celery, chopped

– 1 yam, chopped

– 2 cups of mushrooms, sliced

– 2 large cans of diced tomatoes (with juice)

– 1 mini can of tomato paste

– 5 tbspns mild chili powder

– dash or so of garlic powder and pepper

– dash or so of prev dried oregano and basil

– 2 tbspns brown sugar

– 1/4 cup h2o

need to do:

– prep beans and veg (except for the mushrooms) and place in slow-cooker with cans of diced tomatoes, tom paste, spices

– cook lean ground turkey on stove top, drain, and add to cooker.

– stir.

– press on (it really is that simple).

– cook for 6 hours on high plus 4 hours on low (or longer!).

– add mushrooms, stir in.

– cover / warm for 2 more hours.

cece’s bannock

need:

– 4 cups flour

– 4 heaping tspns baking powder

– 2 teaspoons salt

– 4 teaspoons sugar

– 1 cup veg shortening

– 2 cups milk

need to do:

– heat oven to 450 degrees.

– combine dry.

– rub in shortening by hand (warning: this makes a ROYAL mess).

– add milk, fold in with wooden spoon (or your hands).

– roll on to floured bread board and cut in to rounds.

– bake for 15 minutes.

March 25, 2013

once upon a time

while cleaning my bathrooms today, i remembered being encouraged, long ago, to open a naked housekeeping business. afterall, i loved to clean and, apparently, looked good doing it. i immediately realized that the adage “there is no time like the present” is quite mistaken.

February 14, 2013

february: the final frontier

this is how it all went down.

i’d just given birth and, because my son was 11 pounds, i delivered my dignity along with him, leaving me disabled, for weeks, unless heavily medicated.

it was a preschool morning and i, somehow, managed to get dressed, as well as the kids, and then made my sore ass and their cute butts down the stairs, out the door, and in the car. we even made it there on time. it was amazing.

unfortunately, there, after all this effort, instead of a cheer squad ready-set to celebrate my achievement with high fives, was the parent sign up sheet for the halloween party that was scheduled for the following week. this is not the stuff that dreams are made of: i fail miserably at cute mom. the very mention of pinterest gives me anxiety and, on occasion, makes me hostile (you’ve been warned).

i began to sweat but, fortunately, was quickly pulled from my place of fear by my unreasonably competitive spirit (thanks, mom). damned if i’m gonna opt out like some flake, my inner monologue asserted, and i approached the sheet, handwritten in perfect preschool printing, with my head held high.

i scanned the options (cupcakes, cookies, other things that required skill) and, then, relieved, my eyes zeroed in on the cheese and cracker platter. it was a cop-out, but it was a deal. we always have cheese, we have a pantry full of crackers and i felt that regardless of my current state (i.e. inability to perform basic bodily functions), i should, at least, be able to manage that.

no one will even think less of me, i thought, considering it was pretty obvious i had bigger issues to contend with (as evidenced by full brief adult diapers visible above the waist of my sweatpants).

as it turns out, i managed to forget that i’d committed myself to the easiest contribution and on the day of i noticed on the calendar that i had scribbled: “be cute for preschool”, in what looked like a menacing, drunken script. with minutes to spare i mad-frantic hacked up some cheddar and threw it in, of all things, a zip lock bag, complete with a paper plate (admittedly, weak choices) and a bag of stone wheat thins. not quite what i’d envisioned providing for the merriment of my son’s first preschool celebration but i, delusional, assumed it would be good enough.

needless to say, whilst funneling into the classroom i couldn’t help but observe the amazing spread of wholesome and delectable treats also making there way in, held proudly above the makers shoulders as they unzipped the coats of their children with one hand. i cringed, my entire body shrunk, when i saw the other mother’s cheese platter complete with a variety of fromage choices cut out in seasonal shapes and figures (we’re talking about pumpkins and acorns here people) with a wide selection of cracker pairings attractively displayed on a carved wooden serving dish.

head down, i slinked to the food table, infant car seat bumping along my shin as i shuffled my pathetic remains forward. i casually placed my offering on the table providing no eye contact and no conversation, so not to draw attention to myself and in hope of it all going unnoticed.

i left embarrassed and upon return home, i debriefed with my father, who had arrived for his shift as assigned support person, present to intervene should i fatigue, hemorrhage, or melt down to the point of being unable to parent. another mother failure, i reported. sucked it up hard at today’s cute mom attempt, i confessed. patiently, he heard my ridiculousness and shallow musings about the mom race.

fortunately, by pick up time, i’d snapped out of it. eff it, i’d decided. in the classroom i confidently collected my child and scanned the food table to see if any leftovers required gathering. there it was: my ‘effort’, untouched. even the children knew it was a flop. i shrugged it off and then marched over, scooped it up, and made our way to the car.

my father, having accompanied me for the ride, was still in the car with baby. he wisely remained silent as i wrestled my sugar-high boy into his car seat and then collapsed into the driver’s side with a whine- rejected snack in lap.

a few minutes later he broke the silence. “so…”, he began, tentatively, “it all came back”.

just then, before i could reply, the big boy asked for a snack.  “well, looky here son”, i replied, “i happen to have some crackers and cheese ready, just for you”.

my dad and i, delirious, laughed all the ride home.

so…. it’s valentine’s day. you’d think that months later i would be healed from the ego wounds i suffered so many months ago. well, perhaps i have. this said, the depths of my vanity are profound and i have been waiting for months to redeem myself.

and, now that i am continent, can walk with some grace, and generally function like a regular woman, i did. i participated in some role play and put on the ol’ apron. i read and re-read the recipe. i measured, mixed, and swore. i created havoc, and cookies. i dressed myself nicely, walked my son in proudly, placed the platter down whilst engaging as many people as possible. i returned, sure that my treats would have been well appreciated.

and, they were. that’s right, bitches.

p.s.- i realise that my cookies looked like pinterest cookies after they made friends with the blender. whatever. the point is, i baked something, all by myself, the end product resembled a valentine’s cookie, and they were full of sugar. the good moms might scorn me behind my back for not making something with whole grains or a super food but the kids apparently liked them and i got a story out of it. frankly, this adventure turned out better than the last vanity fuelled activity i shamefully participated in i.e. forcing my engagement and wedding band on my sausage of a ring finger trying to prove to myself that i’d lost enough baby weight to get away with it. in the end, my finger went numb, purple, and swelled up until it looked like an angry penis. the rings had to be cut off. no word of a lie.

February 5, 2013

you heard it here first

my husband is aboriginal and was raised, along with his 5 siblings and a million cousins, enjoying his momma’s home made bread. now an adult (obviously), it’s safe to say that he would do almost anything to have fresh bread still be a part of his reality.

i, unfortunately, have very few baking skills or, rather, it can be more accurately said that i lack resolve when attention to detail is required. point is, i’ve never learnt how to make it. i can, however, make a mean salmon stew and this qualifies me as west coast enough (for what?), by my own defintion anyhow.

today, i choose to share my stew recipe with you. more good news: there is no wrong way. i make it different every time and it’s always good. damn good. like, the best. like, if i had loads of free time, an industrial kitchen, and the desire, i could sell it. straight up.

fyi: this makes a ton, which you can then freeze and pull out on desperate winter nights or if you have unexpected friends over for merriment and a vain need to impress them (no judgement):

general guidelines:

1 whole salmon (pre gutted)

8-10 cups water, depending on the size of said salmon (start with 8, add more if you think it could use it)

2 cans wild mushroom soup (reduced sodium and fat, of course)

3ish cubes of veggie soup stock

2 red onions

1 (regular?) onion

1 celery bunch

3 cups quartered small potatoes (purple and waxy ones are fun!)

2 yams, chopped

2 cups chopped carrots

1 parsnip

1 cup frozen corn

1 cup frozen peas

2 cups chopped spinach

2 cups chopped mushrooms

this is kinda a sweet stew. you can change that. add spices or seasoning as you see fit. dill is fun. a wee bit of fresh garlic changes it dramatically. rosemary smells savoury and tastes great too. fresh chives or leek are playful additions. a dash of curry powder makes it a whole new experience. you know, with soups there are no rules.

instructions:

– bake salmon.

– de-bone and de-guk the salmon (easier and less revolting once baked).

– chop veggies.

– throw veggies (firmest to softest) in slow cooker (that’s right bitches)*, flake in salmon.

– add water.

– cook on low for 12 hours.

– stir every so often. if it looks like it needs more water, add some.

– add mushroom soup, frozen corn, peas, spinach, and mushrooms 2 hours before serving.

– stir it all up some more. note: it is intended to be a thick and chunky stew. if there is too much liquid to goodness ratio add more mushroom, corn, or other easy veg like peppers or zucchini that doesn’t take long to cook.

– serve and enjoy. we do it up with bannock, northern style, ’cause it’s HA-MAZING (and foolproof).

* alternatively, if you have some masochistic need to slave away in the kitchen, you can simmer onions and celery in oil at the bottom of a large saucepan (i dunno, 2 tblspns?), then throw in the water and all the hard veggies, giving them time to soften before adding the soft veggies and flaking in the salmon.