Time for a little rant.

No rave. 


I absolutely hate being caught unaware. Do you know what I mean? For instance, when informed that dinner starts at 7 but everyone meets up at 10, not usually an issue, but you were ready wayyy early.  Or when after a day spent laboriously cleaning everyone and their mom just shows up, hungry. Or when, (this is most problematic for me!) I have specific plans according to someone else's detail, and I rearrange my life to accommodate another's schedule only to find there was no actual plan and I still cannot participate as I expected! That happens often. I don't understand why. I dredge out every detail. I believe I am communicating properly as well as being receptive and open to all plans involved, and yet, the same thing always happens. 


I started out ranting about another, but now it has turned to my lover. In particular, with him this always happens. When we plan for each other and ourselves, the day starts out wonderful. We flutter here, we mingle there, and at some point one of us gets upset because things aren't going according to plan. I hate to say it, though I may not start out being upset, I easily become agitated when I know my lover is. And even when we've reasoned through and talked it out and he once again is in a wonderful mood, I cannot shake the feeling. So, we're out, we should be having fun, he is, but I'm fockking miserable! It has happened enough that I know it's not just some one time lapse. It is an unmistakable pattern. 


These errs would seem to be a series of mis-communications and yet...

My new hair cut.

Leaves much to be desired. I am going to cut it again. Till I'm bald. And when it grows. I'll begin anew.

Cross your fingers for me!

*(^-^)*

Did My Nails...

Avoiding Quilting.

I could probably use some lotion.... but heck.

This was meant for secrets and strangers.

WHOOPS. When I think about it, perhaps this is better. I read somewhere that to make friends you must show some vulnerability. Perhaps that is why I don't make friends, it's not in my nature to show weakness.

My heart, mi vida.

Purposefully cryptic.

Congee...

Ugh, reciently, aka this morning and perhaps a bit before, I was struck with a particular kind of melancholy. I'm not sure why. It could be a combination of lack of sleep, adult conversation, personal time, and last the upcoming changes to my home/hideout/lair/space.


With that said, to day I cut my hair..again..a lot. I find that my hair directly relates to my moods...not so good unless I accept all consequence for taking scissors, dye, clippers to it. I figure I have wigs and I could get a weave..but mostly that I am loved for who I am...that hair grows back, and wouldn't it be oppressive if I felt that I shouldn't do the things I want to because of anyone else's opinion?


New Hair.

In the past two days I've finished two books.

 The first, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan is a tale of a life-long friendship between two girls as they mature to women. I enjoyed the book..I put it in the category of brain candy...easy to read, interesting enough to finish but not life changing...those are few and far in-between.  That said, this book is not for the squeamish as it has graphic descriptions of foot-binding.

The second, An Artist of the Floating World, is a contemplation of an  old man's life. The book is set in post WWII Japan with flashbacks to his youth and career as an artist. His reputation has changed since the war ended, and he reflects on choices he made. I did not enjoy reading this. I'm not sure how to explain that the writing was circular... except that it was...I prefer narratives with beginning, middle, and end. *face palm* Sometimes.


Lately, my reading has been very specific in genre...historical fiction located Indochina-ish....I need new ideas though I have plenty books I've picked up and put back down because I'm not ready to read yet...




 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Congee


So..what I came here to blog about..Congee, it's whats for dinner.


I started by putting some olive oil in the bottom of a Sauteuse Pan ( I had to look that one up). Than I finely chopped some garlic, onion and ginger root. 

Pretty simple right? When the onions turned transparent I added enough water to fill the pot 3/4 of the way up, a splash of fish sauce, a bullion cube and finally two pieces of lamb..

At this point it smells amazing but is not the most beautiful dish on the planet...yet. This can be an all day recipe depending on the kind of time you have on your hands...I have quite a bit, so I like to leave the meat uncut in the pan letting it soften and break apart as I do other stuff around the house.

While it may look like she's pulling out the clean dishes and putting them on the floor, she's actually helping me put them away.


After a few minutes...or a couple of tasks later I add about a cup full of rice. Stir. Keep on low. Two hours later, after a nap and half, I cut up some scallions and baby spinach. I stirred the spinach in, turned the stove off and let it sit for awhile. When I was ready to eat, I sprinkled scallions on top with freshly ground pepper. 

(^.^) YUM. 

A new kind of Super Hero...

"or just every competent Mom. Nothing compares to the feeling of sinking into bed, sheets freshly changed, and not even drifting to sleep..just falling into nothingness till the next cry, Mom...and I'll jump, literally..awake, aware, knowing what needs to be done. 

Those are the days I live for.  Everything just happens like its supposed to. Baby follows me as I clean, we chat about anything and everything. She wanders curiously...poking here, throwing a toy, making a ruckus. When it's time to vacuum...she freezes, looking up at me as I drag the beast out of the front hall closet. Eyes wide, mouth slightly agape...she's terrified. I plug it in. She starts to shake. When her lips begin to quiver I walk over and pick her up. Before turning on the machine, I try to introduce her, again. I want her to touch it. She wont. So I do, I poke at it, bite it, trying to show here there's nothing to be afraid of. To no avail. She wants no part. I can sweep or I can lug this trembling 20lbs. through the house as I vacuum and thats just what I do. Somehow the vacuum is not scary if Mommy is holding her. As soon as I turn it off she gets down. Shes' back to romping, standing a little, taking a couple steps, crawling away. Finally she chases me and when I stop she climbs my leg, looking up impatiently, she yowls "Mooom"......"Yes, Pumpkin?" "Up.."