Sock bun envy

I know we're not supposed to covet our neighbors, so to speak, but I'm regularly envious of the perfect buns I see strolling down the street, resting beautifully, balletically atop proud heads. Based on at least a dozen spontaneous interviews I have cajoled these bun queens into having, I have learned that the trick to this magnificent coif seems to be the sock bun.

At its most simplistic, this is a rolled sock which you place over the rubberband securing your hair into a ponytail. You then tuck the ends of your hair over and into the sock thus making a perfect bun. They sell similar gizmos on amazon, and I recently came across a large bin of them at H&M: they look like spongy donuts. You can choose the one you believe will best match your hair color, should a bit of the donut peek through.

While at H&M, I eagerly snapped one of these puppies up. For $3.95, bun perfection could be mine. Alas, I have failed repeatedly and seriously  need assistance. Like flower arranging, styling my own hair is not a strong suit of mine. I know there are bigger fish to fry, but sometimes you just need a little win, you know?

Really?

Ok, so Oliver stayed home again today. During this time I had to cancel two appointments, do one with a physician via phone, make a chocolate-almond cake, hear about 400 Word Worlds via recitation, make 800 pancakes to watch a mere 2 be eaten, pick Jack up, drop Jack off, walk the dog, return two injured dining chairs, listen to the youngest men in my life fart more times than was previously known to be humanly possibly and ruminate on just what asparagus does to urine to make it smell that horrible. I changed from definite PJs to "are those PJs?", picked up ten pounds of Florida citrus I'd ordered during a school fundraiser and addressed more holiday cards. Really, it was a full day. I think you'll all agree that if/when Ol heads back to school tomorrow, the silence will be sweet. I mean, just look at these dudes. The Marine now has orange and green toe nails, and number 1 is wearing what? Cute but seriously.

People, WHAT is going on with Toronto mayor Rob Ford? He is officially beyond eccentric and now firmly in the effed-up department, yes? Do y'all know what I made for dinner? A fantastic, clean-out-the-fridge meal of caramelized cabbage and shallots with caraway, garlic, Meyer lemon zest and loads of pecorino OVER whole wheat spaghetti and WITH taleggio. It.was.so.good. So good that I don't have a picture cuz we ate it so quickly.

Touché Tuesday

In short... Oliver was up with a fever last night. Again. Third time in six weeks. As such, he was home sick today and likely will be tomorrow and the next, if the past repeats itself as it is so, unfortunately, wont to do. As such, I had to cancel out much of what I'd scheduled for this week, and I found mealworms in my damn chestnut flour, necessitating a giant pantry purge and more Container Store purchases. I found pus on Ol's left tonsil, we went to the doctor and it wasn't strep (shit!), Jack has a vague neck rash, and Thanksgiving is approaching. The boys and I went to CVS for Gatorade and came home with green, orange and gold nail polish for toe-painting. During a brief, medicine-induced feel-good, I took Oliver to the barber for his first shop trim (T usually does the boys' cuts). He was adorable but now looks like a marine. The loquacious barber never heard my "please, no more cutting" protestations as he told me about moving from Georgetown to Sangamore THIRTY years ago.

I told Tom I would not, tonight, help him carry in the seventy pound coffee table he's been refinishing because I was bushed and would help tomorrow. For christs sakes, who's coming over who wants to sit in the basement and have cocktails? No one. Did he listen? No. He carried it in, on his back, up the stairs, by himself. Great. An invalid husband I don't need. Now he wants a cookie. And really, I'm grateful, but I simply cannot go fawn over it. Not just yet. My puff pastry is ballooning to beat sixty despite the fact that I keep puncturing it down. And is chicken marinated in crème fraîche and Dijon mustard good? I hope so because it's cooking now. China gave a paltry $100,000 to the Philippines for post-typhoon aid - puh-lease - AND we did not have any white wine in the house tonight. Mother of crisis!

If it's not clear, I'm feeling a bit glum. A bit frazzled. Balls, Tuesday, take a load off!