Spring dinner, in anticipation of spring

Just before bedtime last night, Ol jumped head-first into a window sill. I was fine until I saw his hand and Mom's upper lip and the tip of her nose covered in blood. She wasn't hurt but had kissed him, and I worried that at some point, his tears would pause, and he'd think, "Now why does Misse have a blood mustache and Rudolph nose?" I mimed that she may want to skedaddle to the bathroom and clean up.

All is fine now. 

At the market yesterday was first-of-the-season halibut. The steaks were stunning, and I couldn't resist buying a large hunk, knowing it'd be spectacular with some mango salsa.

mango salsa

It was. The roasted asparagus with cumin-coriander aioli was lovely too, and the strawberry-rhubarb pie made me close my eyes after each bite, blissful.

toasted cumin and coriander aioli

strawberry-rhubarb pie version 2

Hmm...

I was sitting on a kitchen stool just now, and Nutmeg sneaked up behind me and bit my butt. Then he jumped onto our table and swept an entire deck of cards off onto the floor. I think he's pissed about the snow we received this morning, and frankly, I am too. Thank god my mother arrived last night and can save the boys and me from ourselves. She's been wearing shorts for the past six weeks -#Louisiana- and thought the snow was pretty. Hmph.

We all went out to lunch and then puttered around in Crate & Barrel. I didn't buy this bad boy, but it's fetching, and I appreciate its size. Where, however, would one would tuck this? Whilst at the table of "gift items," this flask being one, we saw Corkers.

Do you know this worthless product? For the bargain price of $7 (now $5 on sale) each, you can turn your old corks into all manner of animal and robot. I love that the box reminds you, "Cork not included." Why in god's name would I throw money in the toilet to turn my old cork into a rabbit? Do I need a Corker army to help remind me of something? Thank you but no. I will recycle my corks and keep on drinking. 

At that point, Mom and I were in hysterics, and the kids, apparently forgetting we were in a store SELLING these things, started saying, loudly, "What other worthless, stupid products are on this table??" and cackling like asylum inmates. I quickly hissed, "Boys, SSSHHHHSSHHHH!" and looked around furtively. We left.

Tonight I'm making halibut with mango salsa, roasted asparagus with aioli and a strawberry-rhubarb pie. As soon as I get off this couch. Which is not appealing at all. Not least because Mom and the boys are watching a movie in the basement while I have some time off. Have I mentioned how thrilled I am that she's here?

Tulips and two features

It was a gorgeous day here, though an assertive chill remains in the air. I refused socks and took advantage of the utter lack of precipitation to wear both high heels and a cream-leather coat that was my birthday present a few years back. I love to wear heels- they change my sense of the self I'm projecting to the world in such an interesting, powerful way.

"This woman is here," those shoes say, as I walk along with them. 

The coat is the creamiest, butteriest leather. Because of its color and quality and also its distinct styling, I wear it maybe three times a year- little boys are no friend to this sleek jacket. That's why it was such a special gift; because it's not overly practical, and I sure didn't need it. I wanted it. For its aesthetics and for the way I feel when I slip it on. It, too, affects my being.

"I am not a sweats-and-ponytail mom right now. No, indeed. I am, simply, woman!"

These long-stemmed tulips -advertised as French tulips; but of course- play much the same role. I look at them admiringly and can ignore, momentarily, the fact that spring is running a bit late. I can put aside the "wintry mix" of fleeting wet snow we're supposed to receive on Friday and forget that DC doesn't yet have any daffodils though we usually do by this time.

I love their slender necks and graceful bloom, and this color. Oh! A perfect pink. It makes me want to keep my heels on, long after the coat has been wrapped away once more and flannel pajamas have taken its place.  

"Spring will have to be bought and enjoyed inside right now," I think.

But my fingers twitch, eager for the ground to warm so I can dig and root and till and plant. I am ready for a change of season.

In the meantime, I will celebrate my Oliver turning six, my Jack going with wild excitement on his first overnight field trip, the quiet of my home right now, good leftovers, T, and the deep feeling of fulfillment that comes in having one's work recognized.

Yesterday, all4women, South Africa's popular magazine for women asked to republish my recent Huffington Post piece and did. Today, I have an essay up on Mamalode, a publication I aspired to and am honored by. 

"Maybe this year, spring is starting from within," I muse. I'll take it.