Candy Corn

I don't understand Candy Corn. It tastes funny, yet once I eat one I must keep eating them until my stomach is on sugar overload. Even then I want to keep at it. Do I simply have a sugar addiction? Well - I probably do, but even if there are other choices, the candy corn has some sort of hold over me. Did I mention that it tastes funny?

Halloween is just about the only time I eat it. They make it all year round now, colored for just about every holiday. Maybe it's Halloween that does it for me. Perhaps I am reliving my childhood memories. Back when I was trick-or-treating, I would eat all of the other candy first, leaving the candy corn for last. Now as an adult, I home in on the Halloween colored bits of confection.

The tricolored stuff has been around for just about a century now and we Americans eat tons upon tons of the stuff according to Answers.com. It is used in video games as a way of giving players/characters extra energy or life (World of Warcraft, Guild Wars, and probably others). If you look at Halloween greeting cards, you will see many pictures of the too sweet kernels of colored corn syrup. Several years ago, someone even declared National Candy Corn Day on their web page.

How did this obsession begin? Will it ever end? I don't know, but I think I need to go eat another hand full of the stuff!

I love the Internet!

I have never had a period in my life where I didn't have to fight with the Clutter Monster. For the past few years I have had an ally on the World Wide Web helping me to fight that Monster. She goes by FlyLady. You will find a link to her website here on this blog. With her help, I have been able to tackle my clutter. She also encourages us to care for ourselves by exercising and eating well.

This brings me to today. I had been wondering how to work some exercise into my life. My home is on a very busy road without a sidewalk. As I have a seven month old that I would have to push in a stroller, that means driving somewhere safe and paved to take a walk. So, needless to say, I have not been walking very much.

Joining a gym is out. Even if I had the money, I would need to find someone to watch the baby. And then I'd have to pack up my stuff and get over there. So, I have not joined a gym. I could buy an exercise video. I've done that in the past. But some of them are too hard. Some of them require more room than I have in my tiny living room. And even if it is the perfect level for me (super easy on the totally out of shape body...) AND there is enough room in my place for all of the moves, I'll probably grow bored with it at some point. Then what would I do with the video? Let it clutter my home?

I found the solution!!! Several years ago I joined Netflix because there were no late fees. You just return your video at your convenience and they send you another one. Perfect for me who is rarely on time with video returns. They also have way more movies to choose from than any regular store can keep in stock. Recently, they added a new feature. You can watch quite a few of their movies right over the Internet. Voila! I can do an exercise video!!! If it turns out to be too difficult, I can stop it and try another one. If it requires more space than I have, I can stop it and try another one. If I get bored, I can try another one without ever having to figure out whether I should store or get rid of the video. If my baby needs attention, I won't be away at a gym.

No clutter!!! Healthier me!!! I love the Internet!!!

Where are the cute baby boy clothes?

Where are all of the cute Holiday outfits for boys? Are our little girls the only ones who should have nice clothes? I mean, I'd like to be able to take a picture of my dear son in some sort of nice outfit. I realize that boys have a reputation for being hard on their clothes, but I'd like to think that I can get Alex into an outfit and get a picture in the nick of time before he drools or pukes all over it. Besides, he's only seven months old. He's not quite crawling, so he's not getting into any messes on the floor or ground. I can feed him, let it settle, then change him, then get my picture. I know that he'll get the clothing messy sooner or later. But I'd like the option.

I've been looking for a cute Christmas outfit for him since the end of August or beginning of September. Today I finally found a shirt that will be suitable. (Picture to come later folks!) Of course, if I had shopped online I would have found plenty. But I like to see some things up close and in person because I am terrible about returning things. Hmmm, so is it that no one else in my area has a son they want to dress up for the holidays? Does everyone want their boys in truck and sports tee shirts all of the time?

Don't get me wrong, I have quite the collection of truck and sports tee shirts for Alex and I like them very much. But once in a while I'd like the option of something nicer. I see how cute he is in this basketball tee. Even with the drool all over his clothes it's a great picture. But is it suitable for blowing up into an 8" x 10" photo to frame and hang on the wall? Not really.

Last summer I went to a family function and really wanted a suit to put on the little guy. Do you think I could find one anywhere? Nope. What frustration!

What I am saying is that I want my local stores to carry better looking clothes for the more formal occasions that I will be bringing the little one to. Is that too much to ask for?

Don't vacuum the kitty

I am beginning to wonder if all cats hate vacuum cleaners. As a kid we had a cat who ran from the vacuum as if it was going to eat her. As an adult I have had two more cats that don't want anything to do with the sucking machine. Our current cat won't even stick around while I use our power sweeper. It is not nearly as noisy or large as the regular vacuum.

When I searched the Internet for stories on the subject, they were by and large about cats being afraid of the vacuum. Or I could watch videos of cats in fear of the noisy electronic beasts. I found one article that claims most cats will grow accustomed to the sound. The three kitties in my life never did. The one I have now is pretty old, so I doubt she'll change anytime soon.

Her name is Pandora. We usually just call her Kitty. Which brings me to another point about pets. I've often referred to my pets by their species, not their actual names. I call cats, "Kitty." I called our family dog, "Puppy." We also have turtles here and I will greet them with, "Hello turtles!" Their names are Leonardo and Michelangelo.

You'd think that with names like that, the critters would be females right? Well, my dear husband got them when he was a little boy. As such, he could not conceive of having female pets. So he named them after two of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Yes kids, the cartoon characters are pretty old. I think it's safe to say that they would no longer be teenagers if they lived outside of cartoon and movie world. Even our very real turtles are at least twenty years old.

At least they aren't afraid of the vacuum cleaner. But they are in fact afraid of some of the fish they live with.
By all rights, the turtles should be terrorizing the fish. After all they eat fish for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Don't worry pet specialists - they eat their veggies too! (Here I go talking about food again...) Of course, these fish are too big to fit in the turtles' mouths, but seriously. Why are they letting a little fishy boss them around?

Then there are the salamanders. They aren't afraid of anything except their owners. They don't do much either. I don't know if they are males or females or one of each, so they are called Sampson and Delilah. Each of them is about ten inches long. I have never been able to get an exact measurment as they squiggle too much when I try to handle them. I think they would like very much if we vacuumed up the kitty. For kitties love to catch and eat critters such as salamanders!

Another food essay...

I actually ate a sweet potato today. I've never cared for sweet potatoes. Something about them makes me gag. My first memory of truly eating one comes from my childhood. My best friend had invited me over for dinner. Her grandparents were in town and her grandmother was cooking. I had had her food before and loved it. So with my mother's permission I went on over.

We all sat down at the dinner table, gave thanks to God, then passed the food around. Then I spied it. The platter of baked sweet potatoes. What was I to do? I knew that I hated them. My parents had a long standing policy of "You have to try it at least once before you decide you don't like it." I had tried sweet potatoes several times. They were disgusting. I had never managed to eat more than a bite or two. Potatoes are supposed to be white and mashed and buttered and salted and hopefully covered in gravy. Another policy instituted by my parents stated that when you are over someone else's house, you eat what they serve you and don't tell them that you don't like it. You simply eat it without saying anything and then thank them for the meal.

Bracing myself, I took the smallest of the potatoes, which was not exactly small. I buttered it. I salted it. I did what I could to make the thing more palatable. I choked it down. Really. I gagged as each bite went down my throat. I made it through dinner and was rewarded with some sort of dessert. I even liked the rest of the meal. But who knows what it was. I had bravely eaten a sweet potato and survived and that was all that mattered.

In the years since that evening, I have tried sweet potatoes again and again, hoping my tastes have changed. After all they are nutritious. They are what my baby loves to eat. They make my husband happy. I want to like them. What to do?

Aha! Tonight I dutifully pealed and cut up a medium sized sweet potato. Then I added several white potatoes to the pot and boiled them up. After mashing and pouring gravy and adding in some broccoli, I found I could eat it. Success!

Beans!

Beans, beans, the musical fruit!
The more you eat the more you toot!
The more you toot the better you feel,
So, eat some beans at every meal!

When I was in elementary school we loved to chant that. Now I actually love to eat beans. Not because they make me toot, but because they can be pretty delicious. (I know, another post about food...) When I was a little girl I thought that beans meant chili and I hated them. Then I was a somewhat bigger girl when someone introduced me to Boston Baked Beans. I hated those even more than the beans in the chili.

Then I went to the Dominican Republic with a church group shortly after graduating from high school to help build a hospital, I fell in love with beans. One night our hosts served us a "native meal" that included the most delicious beans that I have tasted in my entire life. They were black, firm, and seasoned to perfection. Never again have I tasted them quite so good. That has not stopped me from trying to experience once more that sort of bean nirvana.

That has led me to all kinds of ways to cook them. There is the southwestern chili in a tomato sauce with some sort of chili powder. There is Indian style with Cumin as the base flavor. There is Italian style with the same seasonings you might find in spaghetti sauce. I have even used them in place of meat balls in my spaghetti sauce. I have discovered the endless possibilities.

I have also discovered that I prefer preparing dried beans rather than using the canned ones unless I'm making a bean dip. They are have a firmer feel in my mouth that I enjoy much more than the mushy feel from the canned versions. So I spend several days trying to remember to put them into a bowl of water to soak. Then when they have plumped up in the water they get a rinse in the sink and off to the slow-cooker! That's when the real fun begins. I pour in plenty of water for them to cook in. Then come the spices! I pick an area of the world that I would like to explore and hit the spice cabinet. A few hours later I am in bean nirvana.

Spooned over rice or noodles, they fill me up with a wonderful warm feeling. A nice hot cooked meal to enjoy with my family. Yum!

Homemade Baby Food is Fun?

I never thought that I would say it, but making baby food is FUN! Before I gave birth to my dear son, I thought to myself. I really ought to make his food from scratch. It will be cheaper and I'll be able to avoid the things that my husband and I are allergic to. And didn't my mom used to make baby food for my sister and me? I'd be carrying on a tradition.

Well, when the time came to start the little dear on solid food, those pre-made jars and containers in the grocery store suddenly seemed to sparkle like precious jewels. Being a bit of a magpie, I bought them. I told myself it was for research purposes. I needed to know how finely to puree the food at home and what sorts of foods are appropriate for my bundle of joy. Yeah right. I truly enjoyed taking the easy road. After all, you have only to open the container and start shoveling it into the baby's mouth.

My food processor remained on it's shelf glaring at me every time I looked at it. It knew very well that I am capable of boiling some veggies and pureeing them into oblivion. My mother in law passed on the hand operated food mill she had when my husband was a baby. Obviously she wanted me to save money and make the food myself. Not only did my electric processor accuse me of not doing things the right way, but now the food mill glared just as hard.

I've always been good at ignoring people who are telling me what to do. So I set it aside and continued to buy baby food off the grocery store shelves. I filled precious cupboard space with the little squares of easiness and lived happily. Sort of.

My beloved husband's grasp on reality is, shall we say, tenuous. He has struggled with mental illness for the last ten years. He does admirably well. But the past couple of years have not been especially easy for him. He has not been able to work steadily for a while now. When we found out I was pregnant, we thought, well, okay, he'll be a stay at home Dad. That might actually help him out. The baby will most likely be on some sort of schedule and schedules are great for my husband. Caring for the baby would give him a sense of accomplishment. Yes it would be hard, but he's a strong person. He's a loving person. He can do this.

He fell off his rocker and kicked it to the other side of the room. It was too much for him. So I quit my job with the great insurance and something approaching a decent wage to be at home with my family.

We could not afford commercial baby food any more. The food grinder squealed with joy. The food processor jumped off of the shelf and onto the counter. My pots simmered with anticipation of cooking large quantities of food for my family. All of the appliances had a little party. I went to work cooking and pureeing. The baby screamed in abject fear at the sound the food processor made. I have never before seen anyone so terrified. The pureeing would have to be done with him in absentia. No making small batches that he can eat in one or two sittings. No grinding up a portion of our dinner for him so that I could make one meal instead of two.

Now I spend the hours between ten o'clock and midnight (It's safe to say that we're night owls.) boiling up sweet potatoes and vegetables then setting the food processor in motion while the little dear sleeps blissfully unaware of the noise in another part of the house. As this is the time I would like to take for myself, I've decided to make great big batches of the stuff and freeze it so that I do not have to spend every night doing this.

This evening, my husband wandered into the kitchen as I poured puree into ice cube trays. He laughed in delight. "That's wonderful!" he exclaimed. "You're the kind of wife I always wanted!" Sincere flattery goes pretty far with me. He earlier in the evening told me the roast chicken I had made was the best chicken he'd ever had in his whole life. Go me!

I digress. As I poured the goop into ice cube trays, I thought, "This is actually pretty fun." I enjoyed it so much that I made an extra batch of peas for the little guy. Who knew I would love making my own baby food so much?