Tuesday, Jun 14, 2011 | The Juliet Stories, Writing |
Today I am supposed to be writing. I am very nearly done reconstructing several stories in the early section of my Juliet Stories; but it has been much more taxing than anticipated. It’s not been hard work, exactly, but work that makes me impatient and mildly anxious. The early section of Juliet belongs to the book as it was originally conceived, only fragments of which still remain. I have reimagined these stories more times than I can count. There remain lasting sentences and phrases repurposed for different contexts. It’s dizzying.
I feel like I’m eating leftovers for the tenth day in a row. I’ve had this meal before. I can eat it cold, or heat it up, or add some hot sauce, or wrap it in a tortilla, but dammit, I know exactly what I’m eating, and I’m so very very tired of it. But if a friend came over, and I wrapped some up for her, she would probably think it tasted awesome. Know what I mean?
I’m down to the nitty-gritty, to the less-than-glamorous, stuck-in-the-kitchen part of the process. I accept it.
Here’s what I hope is happening: that I’m transforming these leftovers into a really fantastic meal that I’ll get to share with a tableful of welcome company. And it will all be worth it, even though the kitchen is getting hot, and the onions are just shy of burnt, and the sun is shining, and I’d really really really like to run outside and play.
Friday, Jun 10, 2011 | Chores, Kids, Mothering, The Juliet Stories, Work, Writing |
Ever feel like you’re just not into the domestic necessities? I can usually find some smidgen to enjoy in some portion of the daily chores that Must Be Done. But not right now.
Right now, due to soccer-all-the-time, I am washing dishes in a grumpy stupor after 9pm. “Remember when I got to wash dishes right after supper while listening to ‘As It Happens’?” I said to Kevin last night, who was also in the kitchen, putting together lunches for school. “Who knew that was such a treat?”
And hanging laundry–an often peaceful activity, a moment of quiet in a noisy day–right now, feels like a relentless intrusion on my time. There’s so much of it and so many stages to the doing of it: gathering, washing, carrying the basket up and down stairs, hanging inside or outside, gathering, folding. The only thing I refuse to do is to put away the stacks of clothes neatly piled and arranged from youngest to oldest, on my bed. C’mon. It’s the least they can do.
Even cooking is not drawing me these days. I haven’t baked bread in over a week. I’ve been stocking up at the half-off shelf at our nearest grocery store (and because our grocery store is frequented by a lot of students, the half-off bread is usually the best they sell: multi-grain or spelt or Red Fife wheat).
I haven’t baked a cookie, square, or cake in ages. I offered my two youngest a half-bag of cheesies to snack on while we sat waiting in the hallway for AppleApple to be done her final piano lesson. I’d assumed we’d be alone, because the music school is pretty much shut down, but of course there was a mother across from us, watching my offspring coat themselves in sticky orange powder. I pretended no shame.
Maybe I wasn’t even pretending, come to think of it.
I am consumed, right now, by two major projects. One is the triathlon, which will happen next weekend (not this one). I am training heavily, and it is eating a great deal of my time, mentally and physically. What I’ll do after it is over, I just cannot fathom. I can’t really think that far. I love the early mornings, but they take a toll. I would like to get together with friends and enjoy a drink of an evening, again, for example. But meantime, I am aimed like an arrow at a target, with a focus I just can’t turn off.
My other major target, on which I feel just as significantly and undistractedly aimed, is my Juliet Stories, several of which I am reworking in quite radical ways. I am rolling with ideas, especially after a conversation this morning with my editor, and trying to be patient and to work within the limits of the time that is put aside for writing work. I am grateful to Kevin, who is taking over everything this weekend, so that I can write.
And so the kids are eating cheesies, and I am resenting the laundry, and we are doing a lot of last-minute barbequeing.
I just realized something. It’s not pretending. There’s no shame. I’ve lost whatever guilt I once had, as a mother, about pursuing interests that don’t revolve around my children and my household. Right now, I am wired tight as can be, focused, excited, energized, exhausted, stretched, and it’s all good.
Wednesday, Jun 8, 2011 | Kids, Music, Summer, Swimming |
Borrowed wetsuit. Climbing in and zipping up. Even the ten-year-old is impressed with the super-hero get-up. 7:30pm, Monday.
In the lake. Taking the wetsuit for a spin. The water is mucky brown and thick with sediment. The sky and trees, perfect. 7:45, Monday.
At the park for soccer practice. Glad it’s within biking distance. A tree she can climb. Mother reading on picnic blanket only wishes the mosquitos hadn’t found her and told all their friends. 8:15pm, Tuesday.
Piano plus soccer uniform = unplanned post-game down-time. He’s not practicing (lessons are over for the summer); he’s making music. 9pm, Tuesday.
Long evenings are short-lived, in our portion of the hemisphere, and we are filling up the extra light with outdoor activities. Arriving home after 9pm with wide-awake children is taking a toll on my early morning training, and perhaps also on my midday thinking, but I’m going with the pull of the season. And the pull of older children with their own schedules and interests: soccer soccer and more soccer. We plan to head back to the lake this evening, this time with friends and a picnic. The kids can cool off in the water. And I hope to swim farther, this time, be braver, with an extra set of eyes on me. Race day is in less that two weeks: in the same lake pictured above.
Monday, Jun 6, 2011 | Recipes |
We’re going to try taking the brown rice bowl of deliciousness on a picnic supper this evening. I’ve already made the dressing, and will bake the rice later this afternoon. Since I’ll have the kids at swim lessons after school, Kevin’s going to pop home and prep the other toppings. This was our final meal at the cottage a few weeks ago, introduced to us by our awesome host Janis. It hits the spot. And it’s crammed with nutrition. And because you can top your bowl however you choose, it works well for a family of differing tastebuds.
Brown rice “Buddha” bowl
Prepare dressing by whirling the following ingredients together in a blender: 1/2 cup nutritional yeast flakes; 1/3 cup water; 1/3 cup tamari; 1/3 cup apple cider vinegar (or a bit more, to taste); 2-4 cloves garlic; 1 and 1/2 cups vegetable oil (or up to 1/2 cup less); 2 tbsp tahini. (Makes enough dressing for leftovers).
Prepare brown rice for your family or guests, in whatever amount works for you. (I cook approximately two cups of dry rice, which turns into a whole lot more).
Now here’s where it gets fun. Feel free to add, subtract, and improvise with your choice of toppings. I’ll list what that we’ve tried.
Cube and saute one block of tofu, which you can marinate in advance in 2 tbsp vegetable oil plus 1-2 tbsp tamari.
Toast 1/2 cup sliced almonds (or other nuts) in a dry pan.
Grate a couple of carrots.
Grate a beet (raw), if you have it.
Snap some raw asparagus into two-inch pieces.
Wash and tear a couple of cups of spinach leaves.
Saute some shrimp, if you want to undo the glorious veganism of this recipe (and if you have shrimp-lovers/tofu-haters coming to your table).
To eat: fill bowl with cooked rice, add toppings of choice, drizzle on a good dose of dressing, and devour.
Sunday, Jun 5, 2011 | Kids, Music |
It’s the green socks. And the headband. Man, do I love this girl. She makes her own style and she owns it.
