Breakfast at the Park

Lucy and I walked to the park for one of our breakfast picnics yesterday. She strapped on her "safari bag" diagonally (one of my small SAK purses with a short strap) and we were off. She's wanted to be a safari girl her "entire life!" We were barely out the door when OH! a puma needed our help. We stopped, fed it a few berries and continued. OMG! a baby cheetah crying. We unzipped the bag and and the baby fit right in. We added a tiger before we made it to the park. The bag was getting very full. We had tea and crackers for breakfast and after a tour of the fairy's tree house it was time to start home.

The is En-Lightning

The other day Tom was going to play golf and said something like "We'll play if it doesn't lightning." I thought that sounded so odd and I questioned if "lightning" was a verb. We talk about "the lightning" and "lightning bolts" but I never thought of it as a verb. "It is going to lightning" just doesn't sound right.

But it is. I looked it up. Lightning is a word in which the same form is used as a noun, an adjective and a verb. Then I thought, there must be a term for words like this. But in that search, I came up empty. One web site has a list of 150 words which are both nouns and verbs. I just keep thinking there must be a term for these words.

Anyone?

Dr. Spock Has Left the Building!

A woman I work with is expecting her first grandchild this fall. Her daughter has asked her to go to Grand-parenting class and she is incensed! "I don't need to go to class to know what to do with a runny nose. I raised two kids of my own." At that point, tears began to fill her eyes and I knew she was very upset about her daughter's request. (Do you get how perceptive I am?)

So, being me, I googled "grand-parenting classes" and was pretty surprised by the result (4 million results in .32 seconds). Seems that these classes are a pretty popular thing right now, the primary reason being that so many things have changed since "we" had kids. The way you put a baby in the crib is one, of course. That seems to change every year as more research about SIDS comes out. But one thing was a complete surprise to me. Baby powder. One thing most people say about a baby is "Oh, I love the way they smell." Well, not any more! Turns out it's not good for some babies to breathe baby powder as it can cause breathing difficulties. I have no idea what the substitute is because, you guessed it, I haven't been to grand-parenting class!

Some classes include a section on infant massage and baby CPR, but most seem to be geared toward bridging the gap between new parent and grandparent. Tips on how to keep your mouth shut and back off might be a good starting point for those classes, but it seems to be about bringing the new grand-parent up to speed on what parents are learning in their maternity and parenting classes, just to be sure that everyone is on the same page. If you know why the new parents are making certain choices and decisions about parenting, it seems like it would go a long way in refraining from comments like "When you were a baby, I did such and such."

My advice is not to be offended if your son or daughter suggests a grand-parenting class. No telling what you'll learn and that narrowed communication gap will be priceless. Besides, you can always sneak a peek at Dr. Spock in the privacy of your own home.

Tomato, Goat Cheese, and Onion Tart

We have company visiting; both are vegetarians so in an effort to be the ultimate hostess, I gave considerable thought about what to cook. Last night's late supper is something that has immediately been added to my list of favorites and will reside as part of my current repertoire. And the best part -- it's so simple!

I had never made a tart before, although I've made plenty of pies. The only difference in making a tart as opposed to a pie crust is the way you deal with the edges. For a tart, you fold the excess (a half-inch or so) over inside the pan and press it against the edge to reinforce it. I made my basic pie crust, pricked the bottom and edges and baked it at 375 degrees for 33 minutes -- 20 minutes with weights (I use navy beans on foil instead of purchased pie weights) and 13 minutes without weights.

While the crust cooled, I sliced a large onion into very, very thin slices and cooked them for 25 minutes in 2 T. olive oil, adding salt and pepper to my liking. The onions weren't quite caramelized, but they were very close. I spread them evenly over the prepared crust and then took a heaping cup of goat cheese and spread it over the onions. I sliced small tomatoes as thinly as I could and put them on top of the goat cheese, overlapping the edges and covering every single inch of the cheese. A little olive oil drizzle (about 1 T.) and about 1/3 cup more goat cheese, and ta-da, it's ready for the broiler. Put this under the broiler for about 3-4 minutes until the cheese starts to brown slightly.

I put chopped fresh basil on it before I put it under the broiler, but I would recommend putting the basil on after it comes out of the broiler, just before you serve it. The freshness of the basil was compromised by cooking it.

My daughter suggested when I took it out of the oven, I should "Hot tart coming through . . . and she's got dinner!" I didn't say it, but I thought it was funny.

This was so good, I could make it again tonight and be very happy.

Still Trying to Decide

This outer border is a little bright for me, but this is what I'll live with today. I'm beginning to wonder why I decided to "update" the look.

Yes, A New Look!

To answer Diane's question from the previous post about my new blog-design, I'm sorry to say I can't take credit for the photo. I've been a little brain-dead or creative-dead, something, since I got back to Oklahoma. Yes, I've been busy, but it's been yard work, physical sweating work, not thinking or creating work. I think the fact that I had not written anything was bugging me so I messed around with the design instead, just to feel like I was still connected to it. It was time for a new look anyway. All elements are from the blogspot's new templates.

I'm anxious to get back to doing something creative. I have projects on my table waiting for me, and I know I will get around to them. But the outside, hot though it be, has beckoned instead. Some of it, I realize, is a good way to procrastinate summoning the energy to create. Maybe I need a muse. I don't understand inspiration. I don't know what inspires me or gives me the spirit to create. The desire is there, just not the energy.

New Life

The baby birds are almost ready to fly. We saw one with his head hanging out of the nest, looking down, as if to say "I'm supposed to do what?!!" It's been so much fun watching the birds with Lucy and Henry. Both will sit on the porch, whispering, so the mama bird won't be scared.

And what a nest the mama Robin made. The details in this picture aren't great, but the nest itself is such a tight construction. The dangling grasses make it look like a design element has been added.

Exorcism for Tantrums

One thing I miss about living alone (among others, of course) is not having anyone around to read those fascinating tidbits to that I find in the newspaper. So, in light of that absence, you, my faithful few, get to hear about this.

In the Pittsburgh paper on Tuesdays, there's always a column by a John Rosemond, a family psychologist. He writes about problems kids have that parents try to put fancy names or "disease" to but instead should be dealt with as a developmental issue. Today's column is about children stuck in toddlerhood at age 7 (or so) who still have tantrums. I thought the solution to this was ingenious. That's why I had to tell someone about it.

The parents were trying to label their daughter bipolar. He told them she's a toddler in a 7-year old body, still convinced that what she wants, she deserves to have and will throw a tantrum to get it. He called it her delayed ability to take responsibility for her own happiness. The solution was for the parents to tell their daughter that they had seen a television show in which a famous doctor talked about children who still threw tantrums at age 7. The reason, they told her, was that she wasn't getting enough sleep and they were going to put her to bed right after supper but no later than 6:30 p.m. until the tantrums stopped for 3 weeks. If there was even a little tantrum, the three weeks had to start over at the beginning the next day.

It took six weeks for them to "cure" the tantrums. The little girl is very happy now and they will all live happily ever after.

This made me think about adults we encounter now and then who still believe they are entitled to get what they want when they want it. Maybe they just need more sleep.