Happy Saturday, crab salad on the horizon

I hope that wherever you are, you're enjoying a day as beautiful as we are here in DC. Sunny, warm'ish, blue skies; things feel clean and fresh, as they often do after a good rain and some wind. It's like weather-based power-washing, and we are really reaping the benefits of such a recent cleanse. After the muffins, I volunteered at Jack's school for a bit -always a treat!- and then headed to yoga -always a treat! As in my Pilates class, there is a core group of attendees in Flow 1-2, and while we don't gab and yak like we do in Pilates, it's still nice to see the same faces, often smiling but sometimes not, both OK. The teacher is a truly gifted instructor and also such a lovely woman, and it is neat to be part of such a cohort of folks who work simultaneously in sync and at our own paces. I also find interesting who the collective om changes from week to week. I believe I've mentioned this before, but it's fascinating how dissonant, cacophonous really, we sometimes sound while on other mornings the harmony and pitch are spot on. A reminder of the different energy we bring into and process through class each week I suppose. In any case, it's a remarkable class. Om!

J just left for a birthday party at a Tae Kwon Do studio and insisted on wearing his cowboy boots and 10 gallon hat. I suggested that might not be the most appropriate attire for a martial arts party, but who am I to say ("mo-om"), and out Tex went, off to "ninja."

I have been hell bent on making the Deviled Crab and Chicory Salad with Egg Dressing recipe that I discovered in Wednesday's NYT Dining section and purchased all the ingredients earlier today. Although David Tanis sometimes disappoints, this sounds too good not to be. Naturally I'll let you know. Also on tap is more fresh ricotta. And with that, adieu for now.

5:23

Desperately she clings to it,eyes clenched shut, her blankets a tightly spun cocoon. It's dark outside, too early to be believed. Her every sense is being assaulted, and she pleads with them to try and return to a peaceful slumber; or, at the least, to let her return to hers. Wasn't she just in the midst of a dream? Or is this it, this forced birth into another day? One wants to build, and the other wants to play kitchen. Desperately she clung, but this morning, it wasn't enough.

SOTU, cherry scones, early morning!

SNL or Up All Night could write a skit about this morning in my home. 5:39am: I hear Jack singing on la toilette, all lights are on, and he's simultaneously building some Lego contraption. 5:41am: Oliver starts carrying on about "something on my wall, Jack. You put it there. I want some milk. You put it on the wall, Jack." Out of desperation, I brought him some milk after about 10 minutes and then had to turn on my iWhiteNoise on high to escape the wailing calls pleading to come in my bed.

At this point, Jack flushes, turns on seemingly every light in the house and it's all over. I was regaled with the hilarity -"mom, laugh when I tell you this"- of spying a toilet seat on the recycling center's conveyor belt yesterday (cool field trip), and asked if they could have garbanzo beans in their mess kits and eat out as the sun came up. Now, I love garbanzo beans but not straight out of a can at 6:30 in the morning. Who can begrudge good eaters though, so beans they got! Now we're enjoying freshly baked cherry-cardamom scones: mass, cone head consumption is more accurate. This is a divine recipe.

I thought Obama gave an excellent speech last night. His frustration was palpable...

Y'all, I kid you not: Oliver just took too big a bite and then spit out the excess, happily chewing what remained. What a day I've got in store. More later. T, come home!