Injera and lentil wat (and a tiny Shel update)

Quick Shel update: 1) Jack's teacher was as amused by the whole situation as I was which is comforting, to say the least. 2) I have learned more about Shel than I ever expected to know. 3) When in 5th grade, Oliver will not be doing his poetry research project on Shel.
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Ok, so as y'all might know, I like to talk to people- friends, strangers, neighbors, whoever. Generally speaking, I'm a social gal. 

Also, I am the mother of sons and have a husband. Because of this, I am an almost-daily regular at the market nearest me. Because, constant, high-quantity eating. 

In any case, I have gotten to know a number of the store's employees and truly enjoy seeing them when I'm there. Last time I got one of my horrid sinus rages, Hiwot reminded me that drinking my body weight in hot water with lemon, ginger, and honey was wise. I ran and got a huge knob of ginger and later that afternoon was grateful for her advice.

The next time I saw her, I thanked her profusely, and we talked some more and then were pals. One week ago yesterday, I was at the store purchasing, among other items, some red lentils because I have been helping a friend test recipes for the cookbook she's writing. Hiwot said, "Are you making lentil soup?"

"Yes!"

"I make lentil wat and always put berbere in it."

"Is that like pili-pili from Kenya?"

"Not the same but it is a red pepper. I bring mine back from Ethiopia. Do you have any?"

"No, sadly. It sounds great."

"I'll bring you some. And my recipe."

"OMG, I will bring you some preserves."

So, we set a date, met in the check-out line at the appointed time, and exchanged goods. I made her a pear, lemon, honey, and ginger preserve (because hello, she and I met because of ginger), and she brought me a generously-filled Ziploc of berbere and her hand-written notes on lentil wat.

Powdered gold.

"Do you like injera?"

"I love it. Do you make yours with teff only or a teff-wheat blend?"

"Only teff, of course. Both black and white. Well, ivory. Have you had both injeras?"

"No, I've only had ivory. This is so cool. I had no idea there was black injera."

"I will make you some. Let's meet back here next week, same time."

People, I was overwhelmed by her generosity.

We met yesterday, and she had the most amazing, yeasty, spongy, full-of-moon-craters injera for me. THAT SHE HAD MADE JUST HOURS BEFORE! You have to have a starter and let it ferment and everything. Truly, I was and remain so deeply touched. And my inner foodie was just off her rocker.

Today for lunch, I made myself Hiwot's red lentil wat. I stood over the stove as oil and onion and berbere melded, as ginger and garlic made everything fragrant, as the lentils went in and I added water by the cupful as if I were making an African risotto. 

While it cooked I called the White House comment line and waited on hold for ten minutes. Democracy in action, y'all. And then I spoke to a lovely woman and told her how desperately worried I felt about our country. I asked her to please tell President Obama that I felt it'd be grand if he would declassify everything pertaining to Russia's hacking of the DNC, DNCC, Hillary, Bernie, everything BEFORE the electors place their final votes on December 19. It won't change the outcome but we all deserve to be as fully informed as possible. 

And she thanked me for calling, and I thanked her for answering, and we hung up and I burst into tears because this country and Trump's buffet of unqualified Cabinet choices and Aleppo. But then the wat was done and Hiwot's injera was waiting, and I had the most magnificent, beautiful lunch I've had in a while.

I sat in silence and gratitude, thinking of all the beautiful difference in this world. Of cuisines and people and names and places of birth, and how so often when we come together in compassionate, generous, curious, lovely ways, we are all strengthened and made better. 

Mother of the Year

It is official. I am mother of the year. And here is why.

Two weeks back, my dear Jack was given a language arts assignment. He was to pick a poet and then do a biographical research project on said person. Though Jack is an avid reader, he does not tend to love language arts assignments, particularly when they involve writing. I know. They all involve writing.

Overwhelm struck him over the head, and he declared that there were NO poets he could possibly study.

"Um, Jack, you have always loved Shel Silverstein."

"God, Mom, you are totally right. I'm doing Shel Silverstein."

I smiled peacefully. I imagined we had successfully hurdled all obstacles and that at some point I would read a nice piece about Shel.

Next day: "Mom, there are no books about Shel Silverstein in my school library."

"Doodle, you need to check the public library then."

"I did, Mom. Nothing there."

"Jack, when do you need the biography?"

"Tomorrow."

Mother of...WHY do kids inflict such pain on their parents?

"Jack, what do you suggest?"

"Well, Amazon."

Amazon had three biographies. One had three pages. Literally. I don't understand (but maybe now I do). Another received horrible reviews. The last scored a fairly mediocre 3.5 stars. But, it was our only choice.

"Jack, I guess we can order this but it will, obviously, not be here by tomorrow."

"Mom, we are not supposed to buy the book."

SWEET BABY JESUS IN THE SKIES. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? CONJURE A FREE, SUBSTANTIVE BIOGRAPHY FROM MY KITCHEN?

"Jack, please email your teacher and ask her advice."

Dear Jack, As you know, I was concerned about the lack of available information about Shel Silverstein. If your parents are comfortable buying the biography, you may go in that direction. You will need to have caught up by Monday. -Mrs. M

So, this was news to me, re: the conversation they had ALREADY HAD ABOUT THE SHEL INFO DEARTH. Mother of Mary! But now we're really behind and so after reading the reviews, Tom and I bought the dang book.

Saturday: the book arrives. "Jack, please start reading. You're a little behind."

"Ok, Mom."

This morning: "Jack, what have you learned about Shel?"

"Well, his real name is Sheldon, and he is from Chicago."

Excuse me people, is that $12 of information? Methinks not. But it was carpool time, and so we hurried to get ready. 

10:08am: I am wrapping presents, making cookies, and attempting to move at a slower-than-manic pace. I receive an email from Jack's teacher.

Hi Emily, I took a look at Jack’s bio on Shel Silverstein this morning. I was trying to help him determine which chapters would be most beneficial since he will not have enough time to read the entire book before the project is due. However, as I skimmed the chapters I realized that I would not be comfortable recommending any portion of the book. As it turns out, Shel Silverstein has a very interested past! He was quite involved with Playboy and there are a lot of references to sex and drugs throughout the book. There is also a lot of profanity. I do not have a problem with him reading the book as long as you are aware of this and feel comfortable answering some difficult questions. I explained my reservations to Jack in a very general sense and asked him to bring the book home to you to review. Let me know what you decide. Although Jack’s project will most likely be a bit skimpy, I think he can move forward without reading the biography. We will make it work. Thank you, Mrs. M

#PARENTINGFAIL

If y'all think that I did not simultaneously throw up a little for having sent a lengthy drug- and profanity-laced porn book into a Quaker fifth grade and laugh until I nearly peed and cringed because I really did read the reviews but clearly not well and it looks like I threw some money at my son's slight problem-o-laziness, well, I did. I did all of those things. At the same time. For a while.

I called my mother. We agreed this was the best of this sort of story since the children were returned by the FBI years ago for sneaking out to go find pinecones at 6am. I called two of my best friends. They wheezed and agreed it was a solid fail.

People, parenting is hard. It is always something. Who knew Shel was into such exciting things? Perhaps the school library as they have NO books on him which really should have been some sign to me.

In any case, this is pretty funny actually. And it's been lovely to guffaw like a lunatic. Hope this gives you a case of the shaking-chuckles too. It's good for us. Lordy knows most of us could use some lightness. 

Miscellany, mostly of the Christmas and feline persuasion

It is very cold suddenly. Winter! Things appear to be hardening all around. The ground, for one. Drivers are more aggressive. Fewer are smiling. Coats are zipped high and tight.

But I patently refuse because Christmas is nigh, and I am nothing if not a jolly g-damn Christmas reveler.

My entire dining room table is covered in holiday card- and gift-making supplies. Even Oliver, a serious crafting guy, is impressed. "Mama, you have a LOT of craft stuff." Tom, too, feels my Martha-parts are really living big these days. I think my use of his heat gun took him aback just a tad. But y'all, embossing powder is fun! Teachers, grandparents, friends, neighbors, "strangers" (those online friends you've not yet met in real life but intend to and so in the meantime, snail mail during the holidays!)...there is much love and gratitude to be shared. 

Lest you think my inner activist is quieting, she is not. There is much work to be done, and I have tried to do at least one action-item per day since the election. The orange yam continues to disgrace the office of the Presidency. It is shameful. I am ashamed of him. Stand strong everyone.

"When a great ship is in harbor and moored, it is safe, there can be no doubt. But that is not what great ships are built for." -Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Indeed!

The Nut and I spent a great deal of quality time together today. He is so delightful! Also, Big Boggle. Fun game for the whole family. I was competitive but only quietly. ;) Oliver repeatedly found "Ol" and "SOS." I'm not sure what to make of that- hidden message?

He lives a charmed life.

I finished Hillbilly Elegy, quite good not amazing; more on it later, yesterday and am continuing now with H Is for Hawk, masterful. Does anyone else feel totally overwhelmed by content lately? God, it's like a world-sized snowball.

Do: cook your salmon with lemon, olives, grilled artichoke hearts, salt, and a pat of butter in a foil pack. Serve with asparagus, quickly roasted until just crisp-tender, generously dashed with olive oil, lemon juice, and salt. A healthy, easy, winner of a meal.