Friday's One Day Deal, tiny tarts, cookie marathon a'coming

It's been a while since I was enthused about the Friday deal at Whole Foods but this Friday, 12/7 is a good one: MSC-Certified (Marine Stewardship Council) Wild-Caught Sockeye Salmon for $7.99/pound (regularly some amount more than that- oops, don't know). Salmon burgers, grilled salmon, poached salmon, salmon and eggs, salmon and pesto...go for it! I am thrilled to say that after five long days, my migraine decided to move out this afternoon. Gawd, this was a rough one full of nausea and muscle cramps seizing my neck and shoulders...fun times. Ol's inner-bottom itch returned today, and readers, I'm going to be honest, I could.not. muster any empathy. Seriously, the butt itch is driving me nuts. I planted him on the potty for a long while and then just scrubbed him down. Hopefully we have seen the last of both these irritating ailments.

Have y'all ever seen a pug engage in a F.R.A.P. (aka frenetic random activity period)? It looks just like it sounds and is hilarious in its ridiculous pugness. Percy is racing like a banshee might wail, wildly, without direction or goal. He's fine on the carpet but once his crazy talon-like nails hit the hardwood, forget it; it's like a slick sausage has been tossed across an ice rink. His eyes, always seeming to look in two directions at once anyway, seem to bulge and spin even more crazily. His curled tail unfurls like a dead shrimp and just goes along for the ride. Then, as sudden as was its commencement, the F.R.A.P. recedes, and Percy retires to the couch to pant and go all couch potato.

Today I decided to do a trial run with the mini-tart pan I bought at that restaurant supply store in Chicago. I needed to better dock the sides of these, which I suspected but was feeling both hopeful and lazy, but won't these be darling holders for something delicious over the holidays? I'm psyched.

Tonight will be a simple pizza, and I have big plans for a crossword and list-making for my pending cookie marathon, the decorations for which arrive Saturday or Monday. For J's teachers, I'm going to make homemade gianduja (chocolate-hazelnut spread; insanely awesome) and Louisiana cheese-straws, those fabulous, I-can-never-have-enough, cayenne-flecked, sharp cheddar-heavy snacks I grew up indulging in as often as possible. Did you see Kim Severson's recipe in today's NYT Dining section? Amen, Severson. I'm with you!

Babs and me

I am finding myself obsessed with Barbra Streisand's version of Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire. When I'm in the car alone, on it goes and croon I start. Like at the top of my lungs, channeling Babs as if I'm her vocal equal. Personal caraoke (heh- get it?). The number of times I've sung this song in the past week borders on terrifying. It does make getting stuck behind school buses a lot more palatable!

The long-term effects of little-boy sounding?

This morning I find myself pondering what might be the long-term side effects of unceasing exposure to the noises, utterances, dialogue, monologue and sounds that bubble forth constantly from two small boys I know, ages 6 and 3. Last night a committee I co-chair at J's school hosted a guided meditation based on a book about silence and finding the voice within by a Quaker author, Rex Ambler. We did this last year around this time, and I absolutely loved it. Having attended several of these sessions since, I'm always struck by how different my experiences are despite the fact that the meditative prompts are the same. I've felt  invigorated to enervated but witness the entirety of that spectrum in a deeply calm way. Last night I felt as if a thick blanket had settled over me, making it difficult to meditate well (seemingly so), but showing me just how very much I needed and could take advantage of the gift of an hour to focus only on myself.

In any case, 5:49am today brought all back to our norm with Oliver requesting his MIA tool sheet and imploring the sun light to come on while Jack built Legos and later yelled at Ol to "please give me privacy, I'm in the bathroom." And since then T and I have looked at each other, with somewhat wild and desperate eyes, wondering just how many more irritating other-languages, rapping snowmen (you know those drugstore holiday items that sing/dance when you press a button? we get them as gifts and the kids go nuts for them but all three at a time is truly a cacophonous torture), inane arguments and so forth we can stand before 7:30am. Perennial tiredness. Ah, just let me get my latte and a good breakfast in me.

I want to make a shrimp creole this week as well as some sort of braised bean dish. Will keep you posted!