Boys will be boys?!, din-din

Y'all, don't you think I have been wonderfully zen about the child-escapees and the FBI? I think that overall, I really took and have taken things quite well. Then there was the iPad snake, some assorted fibs, the end of grounding and the start of school. All's well and good, right? And then there was the "utility sock."

Yesterday, Jack went ape-shit when he couldn't find a pair of socks that suited his fancy. There was a concurrent spaz-out about not having an exact-replica green t-shirt and short-sleeve navy hoodie that some Wild Kratt wears, and in attempting to assuage his immersive-character guilt (who is he? Daniel Day-Lewis?), Tom went to J's sock drawer to help.

"Jack, what is in this very full sock?"

"Dad, do not look in there. It's my private utility sock." --please keep in mind his age; 7 and change; this is not some nutso pubescent story

"Hmm, OK, Jack. Well, here is a pair of matching socks."

Meanwhile, to me: "Em, you better investigate that 'utility sock' at some point. It shakes in a weird way."

Me: "Is it all the coinage from his bank."

T: "No, not a shaking like that. Like some object. Is it drugs?"

People, please.

Me: "Thomas, go the eff to work."

T: "Ok."

Fast-forward to this evening. T recalls the suspicious package in J's upper right drawer and investigates the sock. What does he find? Eight boxes of matches and a handful of nails. Jesus H, people, don't we deserve a basic week of non-WTF'ness?

For a full twenty minutes, J swears that he did not put the matches and nails in the sock. Finally, Oliver was like, "not only did he put those in the sock but he lit the matches downstairs."

Longer story less short, it comes to pass that Mr. Pyromaniac has lit six matches, blown them out, run them under the faucet (so responsible, yes?) and then thrown them away. What he was planning to do with the rest, I dunno. I get the interest in fire. It's cool. But really. And the nails? Who the eff knows. After a come-to-jesus, T asked if J had anything else he'd squirreled away. Out came a Swiss Army Knife. Y'all, my god. Is it any wonder I drink a bit of wine each night?

All I could do was hug my baby (who would never hurt a thing EXCEPT via rampant curiosity himself accidentally), basically make him swear on his life he would stop lying and then go cook dinner. I made a nice marinade for some fresh tuna, cooked some brown rice in mushroom stock and shelled and cooked some fresh lima beans. I LOVE lima beans, could eat 'em by the bushel. T is infinitely less enthused so I basically did get to eat the bushel.

Say it with me: It is ALWAYS something.

Friendships, pies, and all that jazz

This morning, I called to the boys to feed Percy but didn't receive an answer or even an acknowledgment. As Tom was soon heading to Boston, I suggested he get up, feed Percy and investigate. Shortly thereafter, Jack jumped in to bed with me, and said "Don't worry, Mom, we weren't brought home by the FBI today. We were just downstairs." I suppose we've reached the humor phase of this story. ;) Later, as we arrived at school, the boys told me that I could walk in with them but once we'd reach the doors, I had to walk behind them. It was made very clear that it seem to everyone that Jack was the one accompanying Oliver to his classroom; I was simply there to get something from a teacher (a truth). I wasn't the least bit offended by this command. On the contrary I thought it was darling and a laudatory bit of independence from both kiddos. I suspect that from here on out, walking either of them to class will be a rarity. I'm just glad they still hold my hands on neighborhood strolls and snuggle with me in bed when we're reading.

Back home, I started in on a major day of cooking: granola; vegan walnut-date scones; pecan-oatmeal pies; and a coffee cake. The phone rang: a friend who'd just received bad news about someone very special to her family. Come over, come over, I implored (you know people never want to be a bother; even though most of the time they're not!), and she did. We'd been wanting to get together anyway, and the spontaneity of what turned into a long visit and lunch of divine kale salads was a special treat that I hope in some small way helped offset her sadness.

I love happenstance times like these. You're there, I'm there, perhaps there is a need, even if just a simple one of wanting to catch up. In the stormy whirl of life, somehow a clear path opens, a calm in the storm you can and do take advantage of. I always leave these moments with such a light and happy heart, rejuvenated in the purest of ways.

Meanwhile, the baking continued, and I've gotten quite a bit of my list crossed through. After my pal left, Percy and I went for a walk; it's a beautiful pre-fall day, and people just seemed to be in good moods. I saw Joe, our UPS man, and the friendly security guard at the bank to whom I always talk. That sense of community that grounds and sustains me felt abundant, and I am grateful.

Who knew how gross Komodos are? Awesome ragu.

A new fascination for Jack and Ol is the Gila monster. In attempting to stay smarter than are they, I did a bit of research on Gilas this evening and, perhaps naturally, ended up reading about Komodo dragons. People, they are revolting animals. Just read through this passage from Wikipedia: Komodo dragons eat by tearing large chunks of flesh and swallowing them whole while holding the carcass down with their forelegs. For smaller prey up to the size of a goat, their loosely articulated jaws, flexible skulls, and expandable stomachs allow them to swallow prey whole. Copious amounts of red saliva the Komodo dragons produce help to lubricate the food, but swallowing is still a long process (15–20 minutes to swallow a goat). A Komodo dragon may attempt to speed up the process by ramming the carcass against a tree to force it down its throat, sometimes ramming so forcefully, the tree is knocked down.To prevent itself from suffocating while swallowing, it breathes using a small tube under the tongue that connects to the lungs.After eating up to 80% of its body weight in one meal,it drags itself to a sunny location to speed digestion, as the food could rot and poison the dragon if left undigested for too long. After digestion, the Komodo dragon regurgitates a mass of horns, hair, and teeth known as the gastric pellet, which is covered in malodorous mucus. After regurgitating the gastric pellet, it rubs its face in the dirt or on bushes to get rid of the mucus, suggesting, like humans, it does not relish the scent of its own excretions.

Possibly interesting, but completely DISgusting.

Bashar al-Assad is SO physically unattractive. What happened to his chin? Did he gas it? And why would anyone remotely sane sport a mustache so utterly reminiscent of Hitler?

OK! To the good stuff. Today was good but looong. As such, I was extremely excited to find one last batch of short rib ragu in the freezer and some wide egg noodles in the pantry. Ol and I had just purchased a gorgeous bunch of kale, and so...T and I enjoyed noodles and ragu and a raw kale salad with garlic oil, sultanas, tomatoes and young chevre. An awesome, slap your mamma, kinda meal.

Circle Yoga Arts Market is coming! Saturday, 9/7, 1-4p, 3838 Northampton St, NW!