Of Kitchen Glory & Broken Bones

A very busy last several days. Eventful.

Father's Day weekend was delightful. The DH didn't ask for much by way of presents, so we decided to spoil him with his favourite foods. On Saturday I spent almost 5 hours in he kitchen. It felt great...like old times when I used cooking as my creative outlet, and entertained a lot. I think I'll be back in the kitchen in earnest more often this summer, so expect more food nerd posts.
I made...

Fluffy white loaves like Gramma used to make. Unrepentant, unadulterated CARBS...and so good.
Tofu Mushroom Quiche. I can't pretend I wouldn't rather have one made with eggs, but this makes an excellent substitution.
Herb and Feta Potato Salad, to go with some lovely green beans and Italian sausage for Saturday's dinner.
Chocolate Stout Cupcakes...not stout as in "will make you stout", although surely they will do that, but stout as in with beer in them. Perfect for Dad's day.
Rhubarb Strawberry Cobbler...so good. I also made pickled carrots, marinated mushrooms and a few other things I didn't get pics of. We had a big sandwich spread, with the homemade bread and some nice cheeses for the Sunday meal (as per DH's request), and decorated the table as follows:

I mean, c'mon, does it get better than that? Srsly. It was much appreciated by the dad in question, and the boys had sooo much giggly, "secret" fun planning and setting everything up. So a great weekend.

Now for the broken bones... it wasn't me this time! (which will surprise anyone who knows my Queen Klutz track record) The DH fell yesterday morning, bright and early and hurt his foot. We're off to the dr.s again this morning to figure out the extent of the injury. Poor guy. Not the best way to start the summer. At least he got a nice Father's day first.

And no, the fall was in no way related to all those beers...just for the record. ;)

A Great Day to be Special

Yesterday we went to an event at our local exhibition grounds. The carnival was closed to the public for 2 hours and by invitation only, "special" kids under the age of 10 got to come out and play.

There was a wide variety of needs represented, from tiny children with crumpled bodies confined to wheel chairs, to cheerful Down's kids beaming at everyone they passed, to kids who looked so normal you couldn't tell at a glance whether they were the "special" ones in their family or a tag along sibling. The excitement in the air was palpable.

There was a wide variety of parenting styles represented as well. From the awe inspiring super parents gently coaxing their two autistic sons to try out a ride, and then having to even more gently coax them off it again, to the young couple in line at the end of the day, tired, frustrated, embarrassed yelling at their rambunctious brood so vehemently that they upset my kids too. But everyone was so grateful. I heard many, many heart felt thank you's from the parents to the volunteer workers and gave many of my own.

The kids got to ride the kiddie rides, have a hot dog lunch and were each given stuffed animals and cotton candy. All for free. Best of all they turned off all the music on the rides and in the midway, so that combined with the limited numbers in attendance, it would be a much quieter less sensory assaultive experience for the kids.

How did I feel about being in attendance? About my two beautiful boys being counted in that "special" group? Humbled. Our daily struggles were put in sharper perspective. Our boys are ambulatory and cognitively on par or even advanced for their age. They are also polite, curious, quiet, nice looking little fellas...this makes it easier. We are very lucky.

But I also felt sobered. Our daily struggles were put in sharper perspective both ways. My guys had a lot of trouble with the noise and wore headphones almost all afternoon, even with the music off. They needed coaching around the other children (i.e. how to deal with someone looking at you or accidentally bumping you without exploding). They needed help navigating how to get on and off some of the rides (motor skills, lack of coordination). They were visibly anxious and a little agitated at several points. In other words they fit in quite well at a special afternoon for special kids...there is simply no denying that.

We had a great time...better than great. We laughed. We felt glad and lucky and grateful. We saw our unique and wonderful children and who we are as parents in sharp relief...and liked what we saw.

It was achingly sweet just to see "special" kids being treated as truly important, worthwhile human beings for a day. To see their lives, their struggles, their value honoured with an afternoon of fun, just for them. As E said, "it's good to know that more people care about special kids."

My Community

I was getting a dose of the good ol' mother guilt on the phone the other day, about not getting in touch with an old family friend who moved to the same city as us awhile ago. As part of that deftly delivered mother guilt, all packaged up as what is good for me and tied with a bow of caring concern, was the suggestion that it is unhealthy, imbalanced, anti social etc. to have more friends on the computer than I do in "real life".

After I got off the phone, I was feeling a little growly and complaining to the DH. He, having a much cooler head than I, suggested that my Mom's concerns are borne from simple lack of knowledge about what computers now are and can do. I mean, we just got her emailing a little while ago. How could she possibly grasp the intimacy and immediacy that online communication has become?

I used the computer primarily for researching, gaming and keeping in touch with a few long distance friends through email up until a couple of years ago. Just before Deathly Hallows was due to come out, I found myself driven through desperate, DESPERATE need to seek out social contact on the computer. You see...I had no one to talk Harry Potter with. (OK, yes, N.E.R.D. It says so right in my profile. I'm not trying to fool anyone here.) Sure I knew people who also liked HP, but no one who wanted to spend an hour discussing the minute clues about which way Snape's character would go in the end, or hear me wax eloquent on my theories about the Draught of Living Death. (um, yeah. Way off on that one. ;) So I joined the Leaky Lounge, which led to Pottercast, which led to this video:




And I thought, who is this hilarious 15 year old and who is he talking to? It turns out he was Hank Green, a 20-something environmentalist and musician, doing a year long vlogging project with his even more hilarious (sorry Hank) brother John, an award winning YA author. Their videos are goofy, sometimes almost unbearably awkward, but warm and clever, and best of all they celebrate thoughtfulness, intelligence and "decreasing worldsuck". I eventually stumbled onto the forum that they created for their friends and fans (nerdfighters, hoo ha!), with no intention to post (I am not a joiner!), but found I just couldn't resist putting my own 2 cents into the conversations about literature, culture and world events that were taking place there.

When Hank and John ended their vlogging project (although they still make videos, just not daily), they set up a ning site for the more than 20,000 people of all ages and nationalities, that their call to honour brains, enthusiasm and just being nice had attracted. Not wanting to lose touch with the people I had met, I joined my first social networking site, and I met some new friends. Not "friends"...in quotation marks because I only know them on the computer, but friends who I am in contact with almost every day, who I have taken deep into my heart and my emotional landscape, who I share my worries and my triumphs with. Friends who see me for exactly who I am and like me anyway. It isn't just geography or time and chance bringing us together, it is common tastes, humour, purpose or values...or maybe just a commonality in how we see the world and ourselves. Either way, there is a beautiful sense of solidarity there, instead of a constant struggle to relate.

It seems I have spent my entire life nodding politely while other people talk hockey or hand bags or right wing politics. It has always been really difficult to find people who "speak my language", and care about the same things as I do. I have found some kindred spirits along the way, for whom I am deeply grateful, but there has been a lot of chaff with that wheat. I am now a grown up, with a family and responsibilities and little free time, and I won't spend my social energy on laboriously trying to will common ground into existence. I will spend it with my people, in my community, which just happens to be mostly on the world wide web.

To my gerds (girl nerds!), my old bosom pals and my new blogging and art community friends, I appreciate you. I appreciate you taking the time to read this and/or comment. I appreciate every word of friendship and encouragement. I appreciate every nerdy conversation about books and art, ourselves, politics, kids, Aspergers...Harry Potter. ;) Knowing that there are other people out there who share my views, my tastes, my fears and my joys has renewed a once flagging sense of optimism in the world. *sniff* I love you guys, I really do. I wish for everyone to have such a warm, supportive, inspiring group of people in their lives, whether right there in their own backyards or spanning several time zones and continents like my community does.

Optimism Reclamation

It is time.





It's been a long spring. So much illness (allergies!!! argh!), the DH travelling constantly, school troubles for my boys, psychiatrists, social workers, worry on worry on top of worry...






But summer is coming. Sunshine, freedom ,blue skies... And I am ready to reclaim my optimism.

Reader's Block

(Art by Lorelay Bove,
courtesy of Hey Oscar Wilde it's Clobberin' Time)

Awhile ago I was on a roll, voraciously gobbling down one good book after another, with all the gusto of Cookie Monster attacking a box of Peek Freans. I love to read! I consume books with great enthusiasm and dedication! But the same thing has happened that always happens, after a good long reading roll comes the reader's block.

For over a month now, I just haven't been able to settle on a new book. I have Catch 22, A Prayer for Owen Meany, Gone With the Wind, The Dharma Bums, The Idiot, Junky, a volume of Grimm's Fairy Tales and another volume of Vincent Van Gogh's letters to his brother Theo on my nightstand right now. Just waiting for me to choose one of them and get started. I have picked up and read the first few pages, an introduction, or a chapter of several of them...but nothing is sticking. I grow impatient with myself. C'mon! Those are all solid choices. Books I want to read. So why the blockage?

Maybe I read with such fervour that I just can't commit to my next book while my brain is otherwise engaged. I am reading LotR out loud to my sons each night, and working my way through several non fiction parenting/autism related books when I have a spare moment during the day (Temple Grandin is my hero!). Not that having a non fiction book in progress gets in my way of enjoying a new book, but I think having Tolkien on the go with the little ones might be. I tend to be a monogamous fiction reader...only one book at a time. I get so immersed in each fictional world, that maybe I can't go to Tara while my mind is wandering amidst the mallorns in Lothlorien, even though I'm not reading it for myself this time.

Or maybe it is because of how wrapped up I get, that I need the occasional book break. Time to digest, and get hungry for the next round.

But either way, I hate not having a book on the go. It just doesn't feel right. I've been watching TV before bed instead, and there is nothing on here at 11:00pm when I am winding down. "Real Housewives of Orange County", reruns of "Entourage" that I've already seen a hundred times, "Get Me Out of Here I'm a Celebrity"...I can feel my brain starting to atrophy.

Me needs book.

Just Can't Get it Together, Man...

Arrrrgh. Scattered. Scattered all over the place. Little bits of me here and there, like confetti.

I have sat down on three separate occasions to write blog posts this week...but to no avail. Some shiny object will catch my eye, and off I wander onto the next half completed project.

I wanted to write about the DH being away again, and how when he is gone I am filled with a breathless longing and an aching incompleteness. And I wanted to write about the consuming sweetness of his return, and how after almost 14 years of marriage, I still blush when he smiles at me that certain way.

I wanted to write about this new creative stage that I find myself at regarding art. I think I've outgrown my art infancy and am beginning my toddlerhood. I want to walk on my own! I want to do things my own way! Feeling a little obstinate and tantrum-y and ready to test these fledgling skills a bit as I strike out on my own...which means no more challenges for awhile. I don't need them right now. I need to do my own thing (what exactly that thing will be remains to be seen...).

I wanted to write about ASPERGERS. This entity, this label that is taking on titan proportions in our lives. Getting diagnoses (because there has been ADHD, GAD and OCD too) for our sons has been a bit like finding the Rosetta stone. Now we understand so much better, not only about them, but a lot about myself and my own childhood as well, but it also feels like a heavy weight at times. Hard not to lose sight of the fact that there is really nothing "wrong" with them. I love them just as they are. I always knew they were different, but to me it was the other kids that seemed dull in comparison. My boys were like rockets in a room full of horse drawn carriages! Now as we try to navigate the machinations of The System (oh no, not The System!!!), in order to obtain services and supports that will benefit them, it is hard not to absorb that view of them being ill, disabled or just generally less than. And school, stupid, stupid school exacerbates that feeling as well. School is not a place where kids with intense noise sensitivities, difficulty processing verbal instructions and a tendency to get quickly overwhelmed by too much social stimulation can thrive, no matter how smart they are. We are in survival mode until the end of June, when we can drop kick this year back from whence it came, and get on with the business of letting them be who they are and feel good about it over the summer.

Home schooling is on my mind again...

And speaking of summer...our local farmer's market begins again this weekend. Yay! I love that farmers market with all my little heart. Fresh organic, locally grown produce, honey, crafts, flowers, music, friendly people...love it. Other summer plans include zoo camp for the boys, some time spent with my Mom, Dad and the Dancing Queen and possibly a trip to Alberta ("I want to see mountains again, Gandalf!")...but only possibly. That's a lot of driving. We need to see where the boys are at after they've had a few weeks out of school to decompress, and make our choice from there.

And speaking of Gandalf... (see this is how it goes...shiny object to shiny object. I should do a straight up stream of consciousness post one of these days and really scare all you lovely readers away! ;) Still reading LotR to the boys. We are up to the part where Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli first encounter the riders of Rohan. E&L have hung in there for every song and poem, and every bit of topographical description so far, even though I offered to skip over them if they would like (even I, can find 4 paragraphs about the lay of the land a bit trying, when I just want to get on with the action of the story...I know, sacrilege!). But they are determined not to miss a word. E already says he may now like LotR as much as he likes Star Wars. That's my boy! Nerdy to the core, just like his parents.

And speaking of nerdy...oh yes, I am playing Sims 3 (because that's totally going to help with my attention span and productivity levels, right?). I mentioned to the DH that I wanted it and came home to find it sitting on my keyboard, all shiny and inviting...a surprise for me on a Tuesday for no good reason other than to spoil me, because that's how the DH rolls (awesome isn't he?). So far it is very amusing, and if you don't hear from me for awhile it's because I am very busy having my Sims call their Sim friends on their little Sim cell phones. ;) The irony inherent in playing Sims just never gets old does it?

Anyway, enough. Those are just a few pieces of the eddying swirls of confetti that make up my scattered brain and actions. Thank goodness for the approach of summer. I think the steadying effect of sunshine and blender drinks on the patio may be the only cure for me.