The problem with successfully creating yummy fudge is that having it in the house completely undermines the attempt to lose the last of the post-baby fat.
But at least I’ve conquored the challenge of fudge making! If I want more practice I’ll have to start giving it away.
About 4 years ago I declared our six foot artificial tree “too small”. I wanted the tree to be in the front room and the six foot tree looked very undersized in front of our big arched window. So I went on a quest to buy a larger tree. I discovered that I could buy a 7 foot tree or a 9 foot tree. I opted for the 9 foot tree because I didn’t think one additional foot would be enough. What I did not realize is that I was not adding three feet to the top of the tree. I was adding three feet to the bottom. The volume of a 9 foot tree is MUCH larger than that of a 6 foot tree. I had to buy more lights and ornaments as well. Lots more. The 9 foot tree takes more time and effort to set up too. Lots more. And lots more space to store. Every year when we pull the tree out of storage and begin to set it up I wonder “What was I thinking?! This tree is HUGE!”
Fortunately in the past 4 years my children have grown and increased in number. This means that I have my very own Christmas Minions. I direct the tree assembly process, but most of the actual work is done by the kids. It is good for them. They’re building happy memories. Fortunately they’re entranced by the novelty and are willing minions. Once the tree is assembled and the lights are on, we really enjoy having the large tree. Putting on ornaments is fun and goes quickly and then we get to enjoy the richness of it. The kids love our tree unreservedly. I’m the only one with a weary voice in the back of my head which whispers “In one month you have to take it apart and put it all away again.” I love our Christmas tree. But it is huge.
After months of ignoring my empty birdfeeder, I refilled it on Wednesday afternoon. I’ve been amply rewarded by that small effort. This morning I got to watch a flock of chickadees, finches, juncos, and a pair of warblers all fluttering around in my back yard.
I’ll be keeping the feeder full until I run out of seed. The extra effort necessary to buy more seed could be a stumbling block, or not I’ll just have to see.
Today I did the to-school drop off without taking Gleek along. Taking Gleek adds at least 5 minutes to the beginning of the trip because she has to walk to the car by herself. Adjust her seat by herself. Buckle the seat belt by herself. And then frequently tantrums so that I’ll run back inside to get forgotten items like shoes and blankets. She adds another few minutes to the end of the trip because I have to unbuckle her and coax her out of the car and back into the house. In all, taking Gleek along just about quadruples the nuisance factor, so today I insisted that she stay home with Daddy.
Apparently there was screaming and hitting. Then she ran out of the house and down to the corner where she sat to wait for me. We had heavy frost this morning, she was wearing a sleevless dress and bare feet. Howard followed her to keep her safe, when I rounded the corner and drove past she ran back home. She grabbed onto me and held on like she never intended to let go.
We talked over the experience at length. She informed me that this is the second time I’ve left her. I only vaguely remember the other time, it was at least 6 months ago, probably longer. But in her mind these experiences loom very large and make her very, very sad. The size of her sadness is such that it totally outweighs the nuisance of hauling her along. I don’t want to make her feel that sad or abandoned anytime soon.
I stare at this empty box underneath the large, bold words “UPDATE JOURNAL”. So many things could go into that box. I could say something profound. I could say something funny. I could ramble. . . . hmm rambling seems to be the default choice. Oh well.
Today I made 5 loaves of pumpkin bread and a batch of candied walnuts. This is part of my preparations for Thanksgiving. Yesterday I made close-but-not-quite-fudge. Tomorrow I make spice cake and begin making pies. The turkey is already in the fridge beginning to thaw. I’m enjoying this gradual accumulation of yummy things to eat. I do not typically do this. In years past I took myself to Costco the day before the holiday to buy Fudge and candied nuts and sweetbreads and any other thing that caught my eye. But if I want those things this year I have to make them, so I’m venturing into the wilds of “Home-made” to see if I can find yummy there. Thursday is the culmination of all the cooking. Friday is usually the day to relax and play and eat leftovers. It is also the day that I usually put up our christmas tree.
This year Howard hops a plane Friday morning to go to Grandma’s funeral. The word “funeral” throws cold water ALL over the cozy picture I was building in my head. I’m still going to begin the Christmas decorating, but I don’t intend to have it all done in one day. I think instead Friday will be devoted to some kind of christmasy craft that the kids can all do. Maybe making new ornaments for the tree. Maybe I’ll make them help me sort through all the chrismas lights and find the ones that work BEFORE I haul out the tree. Maybe that will help avoid the hour where I mentally curse the strings of lights while fielding questions about “Can we put the ornaments on now?”
I feel like taking a more relaxed approach to the holidays. It isn’t about Getting Stuff Done. Or it should be anyway. It should be about building memories and connecting with people through traditions. It isn’t about shopping, or even giving. It is about loving.
“Ramble” seems to have segued into “sermon.” That probably means I should stop writing now.
I usually don’t post links to articles, but this article http://slate.com/id/2109937/
offers some very pertinent thoughts about pet ownership and responsibility. We do not have any pets. My kids would love to have a dog, but I refuse to have a dog unless it is a properly trained and socialized dog. I’m too busy training and socializing children to spend time on an animal right now.
There were several points in that article which I found interesting:
So called “dangerous” breeds are no more likely to attack than “friendly” breeds, but when they do attack they are far more likely to do serious damage.
The person most likely to be injured by a dog is not a burglur or stranger, but a child who simply acted unpredictably. Young children and dogs must always be supervised together even if there is never a problem.
A dog who has been traumatized and has become prone to violence has no business living around lots of people, particularly children. If you want to “rescue” an unpredictable dog, you’d best live someplace rural.
My neighbor across the cul-de-sac owns a traumatized and rescued dog. I have never seen that dog be anything but friendly. I still do not allow my children to run over and play with the dog unless I am standing right there. Another neighbor owns a big friend pony-size alaskan malamute. The kids love it, but I’m always right there because the big friendly pony could trample or squash a toddler without intending to. Chalain and Chaliren frequently bring their dog to our house. The kids love running with her in the yard. All the adults love watching, but we always WATCH.
Animals can add so much to the lives of people, but pet owners must be responsible and parents must also be responsible so that fun can be had, not tragedy.
Today I attempted my first batch of fudge from scratch. Fudge is a treat that is cheap in ingredients, but expensive in time. Fortunately it is quite easy to read while standing next to the stove and stirring for 20 minutes. Stirring is also a task that can be handed off to older children. And at the end of that effort is fudgy goodness that you’ve actually worked for.
In theory there is fudgy goodness. What I ended up with was fudgy crumbles. It tastes just like fudge, in powder form. It turns out that the thermometer I used is off by about 10 degrees. I cooked the fudge too long. Fortunately I can think of dozens of yummy uses for fudge powder. I may even make some more on purpose sometime. I’ll definitely be attempting fudge again so that I can perfect my technique.
I just got mean and laid down a new law that I’m now going to have to enforce. This is a frequent problem with New Laws. And yet I continue to make them. And then in moments of weakness or tiredness I allow my kids to disregard them. Then in moments of stress I either reinstate the old New Law or make a new New Law. The “No Eating in the Family Room” rule cycles through this process about once a week.
My kids have been accustomed to eating dinner and then selecting a snack before bed. This often meant that they fought over every required bite at dinner and then filled up on toast right before bed. When I was microwaving frozen things for dinner I didn’t mind so much. Now I’m spending time on actual cooking. Seeing the carefully planned and prepared food go uneaten bothers me because there was actual work involved.
Tonight Kiki gobbled up two helpings. Patches plowed through the food on his plate. Gleek and Link battled over ever bite. They also battled over going to bed and once in bed declared “I’m hungry!” I was mad. I scolded. Then I allowed them to get out of bed, but declared the New Law: “Kids who do not eat dinner have to eat dinner at snack time.” Then to rub in the lesson I got Kiki out of bed and let her eat a cookie for a snack. There was wailing and moaning and gnashing of teeth. I then informed Gleek and Link that they could also have a cookie if they cleaned their plates first. 30 minutes later they still had food on the plates, I sent them to bed anyway. I’ve saved the plates of food. If they finish them tomorrow then they can have a cookie.
I think that as long as I’m cooking meals this New Law will actually be applied. Hopefully it will quickly become accepted and prevent future evenings from being as emotionally wringing as this one was.
This evening is feeling very Blah. I have projects I could be doing, scrapbooking, sorting christmas stuff, sewing, but I don’t want to. I have a book to read, but frankly it is boring me and I’m only finishing it so I know how it ends (Shame to see such a hash made out of russian folklore). I don’t want to read it right now unless I can read while luxuriating with a bowl of chocolate ice cream. Albertson’s sells a chocolate almond fudge which ranks as my current favorite ice cream. I can go through a half gallon of that stuff in two days or less. It is probably needless to say, but we don’t have any.
On an only marginally related subject, I’ve discovered a problem with my “Griping” icon. When I get ready to post a frustrated or whiney entry I slap that picture on it. Then I look at the picture and think how wonderful it was for Rowyn to make it for me. And I end up thinking happy thoughts about friends and I don’t feel so gripey anymore. This is usually a good thing unless I WANT to be gripey and whiney and then I feel grumpy about being made to feel better. I think my head is a strange place to live in sometimes.