They Say the Mind is the First Thing to Go....

So I was just checking whether the spacing of my text worked out okay on today's post since it sometimes gets wonky after pictures.

(Note: It did. Also? World's most nitpicky blogger, at your service.)

And I realized that I pretty much posted the same post twice in a month. It even has the same title.

Sorry 'bout that. I'll try to be more original in the future.

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Is That a Rutabaga?

(Scene: Our kitchen table. Yesterday)

Husband (wearily): All you think about is food, isn't it.

Me (with guilty belligerence): Yes. So?


Okay, I admit it. I am obsessed with food.

I am constantly thinking about what next week's meals are going to be (since this week's are already covered on my weekly menu plan, with all required ingredients happily stocked in my fridge). I watch the clock at work every day in anticipation of when I'll get to tuck into my daily apple with peanut butter. I think one of the nicest Saturday afternoon activities out there is to sit down on the couch with a cup of tea and a pile of cookbooks.

On vacation, I can only sit back and enjoy the scenery if I know exactly where and when the next meal will be (and a PDF of the menu on The Husband's phone is a definite plus). Grocery shopping is an hour-long affair, with full minutes spent agonizing over which brand of pasta sauce to buy and strolling slooooooowly through the aisles so I don't miss some tasty delight hidden on the top shelf.

(Like Bright Morning Chocolate Spread. Straight from Israel to the ethnic food aisle and then into my cupboard. It's like Nutella with no hazelnuts - dreamy chocolatey goodness for crepes nut-allergy style.)

This whole eating seasonally thing has pretty much put me over the edge. Today I started to panic a bit when I saw how so much of the farmer's market has turned to root veggies and storage crops. I frantically grabbed broccoli and peppers, which have since been cut, blanched, and now lie in their own early winter in my freezer.

Of course, the insanity leads to significant joy. Know anyone else who bursts out "SPINACH?!" on the street, scaring the poor farmer minding her own business behind her produce stand?

(Although, seriously - wouldn't you go a bit crazy if you hadn't had fresh spinach for three months and then these beauties showed up like manna from heaven?)

The Husband tolerates the culinary craziness since it gets him off the hook for meal planning/prep. (Heh heh - doesn't save him from dish duty, though - our rule is "whoever cooks doesn't have to clean the dishes. One of these days he'll figure it out....)

The kids aren't huge fans, since it invariably means new recipes and experiments that more often than not elicit "grosssssss" and "how much of this do I have to eat?" and "Mom, we are having *too* much _____" (any vegetable will do - squash, spinach, brussel sprouts).

But I wave away their complaints and merrily move along to the next recipe, usually from my Simply in Season, which is, quite simply, the best cookbook I've got in my arsenal at the moment. (Ooooo - look at this one - it's got three whole cups of zucchini!)

And it's going to get a workout in the next while. Just look what the CSA fairy dropped off for me today:

Yup, that's 60 pounds of winter storage vegetables. (Well, 58, probably - there's 2 pounds of kale that I need to use in the next few days.)

Wish me luck! Well, probably better to wish The Family luck. I'm pretty pumped about beets and turnips, but I sense that the rest of the PM clan is less than thrilled right now. (As per The Husband: I hate beets. They taste like a$$.)

I'll try to let you know what I come up with. I'm mostly scared of the rutabagas. Also, $5 to anyone who can identify the large turnip-looking veggie behind the butternut squash on the right.... I'm thinking if all else fails I'll make soup - you can make soup out of anything, right?

Oh, and the best news - this is only my first delivery. Round two comes in four weeks!

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Making Space

So you're probably all worried...checking every day and seeing that I haven't posted since the beginning of October...thinking, "Oh man, PM must be simply drowning in to-do lists these days."

Actually, not so much.

I'm really not that busy.

In fact, I'm so not that busy that I've been busy not being busy.

These days I'm busy harvesting the fruits of a labourious few months of saying "no":

"No, I will not be volunteering again at the MCC sale this year."

"No, I will not direct the Christmas pageant again this year."

"No, I will not teach ESL this year."

"No, we do not need to enroll the kids in swimming this semester if they are already involved in an extra-curricular activity each."

It's not easy, saying "no." You hear about it all the time - the guilt that we women feel (is it only women? I feel that it might be...) when we say it, as though by saying it we're admitting we can't do it all.

Know what?

I can.

In fact, I have. (See: single parenting two toddlers while working two jobs. See also: moving to a new country and finding a job/church/friends. Feel free to throw in 8 houses in as many years if you like.)

But I don't want to anymore. And I've decided that that is enough of a reason to hand out a few "no's" this year.

Oh, I'm still doing some great stuff. I'm still doing church small group and praise band. I'm still running (Monster Dash 10 mile race is in 11 days with costumes, whoop!).

But what I'm not doing is overscheduling myself or my family. Until I stopped doing it, I didn't realize how anxious and frustrated I got when the inevitable scheduling conflicts occurred or how depleting it was to go out for a third (or fourth) evening in a row. (Holy nerd alert, Batman!)

Turns out, I'm a total homebody. I kinda knew that already, since my favourite date night = Netflix and some cold Canadian beer. And it's not like I want to do this full-time. But I'm loving coming home, snuggling with my babies, helping with homework, puttering in the kitchen for an hour...even having the option to do a bit of reading before bed.

Best part is that I get to do this four nights a week!

Oh, better get going...it's 8:45 and I have just enough time to go tuck some littlekins in and shower before heading off to bed with tea and a book.

(Yup, I am officially O-L-D. Next stop - drinking plain hot water and sweaters with kleenexes tucked in the sleeves. [Oh wait...I already do that, too.])

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Webster's vs. OED

Mom...

Yes?

How do you spell "favourite"?

F...A...V...O...

[hesitant pause]

And then?

[defeated sigh]

R...I...T...E....

(Can I claim the When in Rome defense? Or mollify you with protestations that he is already having to learn how to spell in both English and French and to throw in a dialect form of English is possibly a bit much for the second grade?

Yeah...it doesn't fly with me either.)

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