Icky icky icky.

So here I am with a lot of peaches on my hands, thinking that I should make a couple peach pies for tomorrow's big barbecue. Nothing special, just peaches and crust, like my father-in-law makes.

But most of the recipes online call for fresh peaches. Naturally. I can understand that.

I decide to be more specific, and I google ["canned peaches" pie]. One of the hits is an allrecipes.com link, in which I found this, a recipe for Beef Peach Pie.

No offense to Ms. Diana Webb, but are you kidding me? And if it doesn't sound bad enough, D.Hamilton went and uploaded a photo of it's grossness!

This is definitely a candidate for the Weight Watchers cards (skip to the link in the last paragraph). It just needs some knick-knacks.

Some assembly required

Surely it's Friday by now. This week has been far too long already for it to just be Thursday.

No? Just Thursday?

(sigh)

Okay.

So here's what I've been spending my time doing lately at work...

Fun, eh?

Yes - I swear I'm a chemist. I just do... other things too. But it's all in the name of chemistry. Honest.

In other news, I hit a tumbleweed on the highway today. Ran right into it. Random tumbleweeds are just some of those little reminders that we live in a desert.

I'm afraid that's all I've got for today. My mind is slowly turning to mush at work, so it's all I can do to pull sentences together in the evening. However, we've got a big weekend up ahead, so stay tuned for more fun. There is a lot of red and white on the horizon!

A hairy tale

Once upon a time there was a girl. The girl had light brown hair, but it was boring and straight. One day the girl moved in next door to a boy. The boy had long eyelashes and a mass of black curly locks. The girl liked the boy, and the boy liked the girl. They decided to get married. A little while later the girl had a little boy. And the little boy had hardly any hair. And it was light brown, just like the girl's. After a long time, the little boy's hair began to grow. And it grew and grew. And then it began to curl.

And then one day, the girl couldn't resist the urge to do this. And the little boy thought it was a hoot, so they took a bunch of photos.

Birdhouse

Yep. It was a birdhouse. Sorry for the delayed confirmation. The best part - Keith came home from work last Saturday night as Kai was being tucked into bed. About 15 minutes later, Kai came downstairs and said in a rather serious voice from the fourth step:

"Dad. I have to warn you. I painted a birdhouse for you for Father's Day."

The kid isn't terribly familiar with the concept of surprises.

Phew. Good thing Keith was warned. Birdhouses can be rather shocking.

whoosh

And then a week went by.

Today was a whirlwind - we had a garage sale and got rid of approximately $200 worth of stuff we don't need. Always a worthwhile venture. Just. Very. Tiring. We're going to celebrate our winnings by having leftovers for supper. Mmmm... leftovers.

After I have a quick nap.

I queue. Eye cue. Aye Q.

So apparently, not only is my brother likely smarter than I am because he was born first, but by virtue of being born, I likely made him smarter than he would have been in my absence.

It is nice that people spend their time studying things like this. One more reason to wonder whether or not we should have only one child.

Cheers, JP. I always knew you were smart.

Swan lake

(1 minute ago)

Me: When you're finished watching your movie, we should make a card for your dad.

Kai: Is today Father's Day?

Me: No. Tomorrow.

Kai: Is there a kids' day? One where you do nice things for your kid?

Me: Um... no.

(pause)

Me: Well, maybe your birthday or Christmas... Or maybe everyday.

We're back inside. The sky is rumbling and I'm expecting rain anytime now. Thankfully, it was beautiful this morning while Kai and I were in Lafayette for another preschool kid's birthday party. It was held at a park at a little lake in the middle of a subdivision. (Reservoir, perhaps, might be the appropriate term.) The lake has paddleboats which the birthday boy's family rented for us. Ours was in the shape of a swan.

Once we came home we had another little project. Here's a sneak peak:

An old friend I really miss.

Many of you have read the post Becky did about Vonage some time ago. Outside of the hell we have gone through with this company there is one benefit that is nice to have - there are really good rates to call certain countries outside of North America.

Today I talked to my old friend Andy Given. I met Andy in Toronto years ago while he was doing his doctorate at the University of Toronto. He had moved to Canada from New Zealand to go to school, met a great Canadian girl and has since moved back to New Zealand. We have had a few emails over the years but today we actually talked to each other. It was great to hear his voice again, he has that distinct Kiwi sound again after years in Canada.

Our friendship is one of those that just seems to pick up from where it left off. Other friends simply faded away, not from my lack of trying I might add. Come to think of it I'm not really sad for those losses. I have other friendships like the one I have with Andy and I am grateful for those as well but Andy is a different kind of friend. Our sons are close in age, he got me excited about the All Blacks and he is just a good mate.

Thanks for the chat today Andy.

"thank you God for the cookie recipe"

I'm feeling a little like I'm neglecting you. After almost a week with no posts, I felt I should grace you with my presence once again. Do you feel graced?

Don't answer that.

The assembly line continueth. At last count I have completed 23 blocks. At some point I'm going to need to determine exactly how many I'll need in toto, but for now I'm just going to keep sewing sewing sewing.

I think I've read that Nemo book too many times.

I timed myself, by the way. 16 minutes for one block, start to finish, not including the actual block cutting. Add a couple minutes here or there for refilling the bobbin or changing the CD in the CD player, and I'd guess that three blocks per hour is a good estimate. It is a good thing that I find it so therapeutic.

Anyhow, I'm itching to get back upstairs to my quilt-making right now, but I made a promise to make some cookies, so I'm going to have to do that first. If I wasn't so tired after supper, I would have made them with Kai, but I asked him if he would mind if I made them after he went to bed and he could have some tomorrow. He said that would be fine.

What a gracious little kid he is somedays.

Most days.

That would likely explain why he thanked God for "the cookie recipe" in his nighttime prayer tonight. This was along with his puddles, the neighbour kids, our house, Jake and, well, "everything".

Off to the cookie-making. And yes - it's the same recipe that I've been making since I was ... oh, I don't know... 7? 5? I don't know that I've ever thanked God specifically for the recipe though.

Assembly line

This afternoon I took a break from being a scientist and spent some time being domestic, piecing a quilt that I started a while back. Until today, I had done a bunch of cutting but had only pieced three blocks. I now have ten pieced blocks, and another partially-pieced block on my sewing table.

I know it has been said before, but chain piecing rocks. Not only does it save thread (nice) and prevent the corners of my squares from getting sucked into the bobbin zone (significantly less frustrating), but it makes it easy to keep going (there is always another block being made.)

I get such intense pleasure out of seeing a block come together. I have been slowly getting better at making my points line up on these blocks - not exactly an easy feat when 8 points come together in one location, but the highlight of the day (sarcastic tone very on) had to be when my sweet husband came into the room near the end of the day, leaned over the bed-full of blocks and immediately commented on one very poorly lined-up corner.

Uh, thanks, sweetie. I know.

Darn homespuns... I really love them, as you may have noticed from previous projects, but they have a very different stretch than cotton prints. Anyhow, whatever - it's homemade. And maybe that's just one of the reasons that I don't do this for a living. Not yet at least.

Sadly, near the end of the afternoon some of my beige piles were looking rather depleted. So this evening I made a quick trip to the fabric store and have added four more beige fabrics to my collection. Ummm... yeah. And one more orange and one more green. They were really pretty and asked to be brought home with me. Honest.

The plan is that this will eventually be our spare bedroom queen-sized bed covering. By my estimates I think I have another 50+ blocks to go.

Lastly, the strangest photo of all: me working away on the sewing machine, compliments of my 4-year-old. Don't ask me how he managed to eliminate my head, but fear not - I still have my "big brain" and the science will continue. Later.

Passionately passive-aggressive

Thanks to everyone who commented about me sending my kid to his room... I assure you, there are no rusty nails (well, maybe only one or two), and certainly no meat that I'm aware of, rotten or otherwise. I have actually considered putting a computer in Kai's room, only because he is the only person in the house who uses our old desktop, but I'm with you on the TV thing, Katie. I've never - not once in my life - had a TV in my bedroom, so I think I can justify not letting him have one.

And thanks bubandpie for the sweet comment about my new banner. I'm quite happy with it! These were flowers that Keith and Kai had waiting for me when I returned from Acapulco - gerbera daisies - my favourite. Mind you, they've all taken on some odd kind of blight and are covered with black speckles... I digress. Anyhow, now that I know how to change my banner, I'm sure it'll be updated once in a while just to keep things fresh.

I wanted to share something I found online today - it made me laugh right out loud, only because I was remembering so fondly the things that I used to do unknowingly (albeit inconsiderately) that annoyed some of my old roommates. I'm sure we all have fond memories of our old roomies' irritating quirks or likewise the things that irked them about us. There is one in particular that made me giggle while thinking a friend making a threat with his rotary phone. You know who you are. So check it out. Especially those of you who were old housemates or roommates of mine. Enjoy!

Of course, be warned - we all know about the site now, so it might not be best to submit your own experiences. Although that would be the ultimate in passive-aggression.

Go to (play in) your room

When I was a kid, I remember thinking that the whole go-to-your-room punishment didn't make much sense. I mean, that's where I kept my toys. My room was a place to have fun, not a place to sulk and think about what I had done.

But I think I get it now. Sometimes go-to-your-room is a parent's desperate plea, an excuse for sending a misbehaving and obviously-bored child somewhere else to give him a change of scenery, and maybe, if the parent is lucky, the child will be distracted by another sea of toys and simply stay there.

Of course, there are times when a child may be legitimately distraught by his or her actions and will simply sulk and think. But often around here, the go-to-your-room "suggestion" simply means please go play somewhere else.

Is that so wrong?

An ideal Sunday

This afternoon an ideal Sunday afternoon. The weather was perfect: sunny, but not too hot. We played our newly constructed bola golf game. New plants were purchased and planted. The van was steam-cleaned. Two loaves of The Great Pumpkin were baked. Both lunch and dinner were consumed outside.

What more could one ask for?