Tonight Scott was sitting on my lap, watching Sesame Street clips on the computer. In one of them, they sang the ABCs. He asked to be put down (by pointing down, leaning and making a "Mmmhhh?" sound), walked to the fridge, and pushed the button on this magnet that plays the ABC song, looking right at me. Wow! I'm just floored by this. He's, like, here! In full! Alert and communicating! But he was a baby only a few weeks ago!

Been having too much fun

My parents and sis came out to visit us for Thanksgiving week and we had so much fun visiting San Francisco, wedding planning for K's May nuptials, and eating eating eating. A few photos:

Thanksgiving morning 5 mile run in Golden Gate Park! Our CA friends, Shawn and Deb, convinced us to go and we're glad we did. I am smiling here, so it must be lap 1.

Scott was a roast turkey. Those are turkey leg frills, not Clydesdale feet.

Mom and Dad took Scott to the park(s) around MV and PA

The Fairmont hotel in SF had a Christmas open house. That gingerbread house in the background? REAL GINGERBREAD. Like, thousands of pounds worth.

Overheard in Houston by Chookooloonks, a photographer who blogs:

"The weather's great today, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it really is."

"Man, if the weather was like this all the time ..."

"... If the weather was like this all the time, this would be California, and we couldn't afford to live here."

Ahhh. True.

But it is beautiful weather. EVERYday!

But we still love him.

We have letter magnets on the fridge and tonight Scott was bringing them to me, one by one, laughing and being cute every time I said thank you. The first three letters he brought were B W R. And I was all:
"What? C'mon kid, you are supposed to be the next generation. I'm expecting VHTR and SFR from you, or at least APWR. (Though I can't say I'd be totally thrilled with those four letters.) Get with it."
and
"Luke, cancel bath time. Scott needs an extra hour of reactor theory tonight because he is WOEfully behind my expectations."

At least it wasn't R B M K.

... and when I have a band we'll sing a cover of this song.

I never got what Kermit saw in her. But this song gave me a lovely look into her crazy head.

"I'm gonna climb the Matterhorn
But only after all our children are born
Because I want to be a good mommy too
And I'm gonna always love you."

If you watch the video, notice how Kermit rides the rocking horse. That is pretty much exactly how Scott rides his rocking moose: con exuberancia!

Quinces

It seems like everyone out here is talking about quince ("kwins") paste, or membrillo. Quinces are one of the fruits I had never heard of until I moved to California, along with jujubes and persimmons. Last week I found quince for $0.99 a pound at the best produce stand in California (and maybe the world). Sold.

Qunices look like ugly pears: lumpy and not quite symmetrical, unlike the pretty, smooth fruit we usually see. Homely fruit, in a loveable way. I hear you should pick yellow ones that have no or very little green. I'd recommend large ones because it's less to peel. And I got a bunch of them (5 or 6 lbs, or 8 large quinces) and make a large batch of paste because it's time consuming and keeps just fine.

After peeling, coring, and roughly cutting the fruit, simmer it for about 45 minutes until the fruit is tender. I put the cores and peels in that cheesecloth bag and boiled them because I hear the peels contain a lot of pectin, which helps the paste set later.


Remove the bag of peels and cores and blend the simmered fruit in blender, food processor, or mash very very well. Mix with a lot of sugar: approximately the same volume of sugar as fruit mash. I went short -- about 2/3 the volume -- and was happy with the results. Now simmer again. For a long time, about 1.5 hours, while stirring to keep from crystallizing. Whew. (Maybe, like me, you have a husband who is a good conversationalist and you can have him stir while you assemble a lasagna?) When done, the paste will turn a deep orange and be fairly firm and able to mound without running much.

Not close to ready yet

Put the paste into a container lined with oiled parchment paper. It's very sticky, but using oiled parchment paper solves that problem completely. Spread it flat. I put mine in the oven at 150F overnight to help it set. If it's still not firm enough to remain together, you may need to flip it over and repeat as the top side sets more easily.


It's a lot of work, but the taste is so interesting and unusual that it's worth it. The fruit has a lovely, lightly sweet scent that will perfume your whole house for those hours of simmering. It's not often enough as an adult that you get to try a totally new taste, and this one is really enjoyable!

Yum.

A few other new tastes to try this week from the farmers' market: Pippin apples, Delicata squash, Parsnips, and the fractal-like Romanesco

Judgement and Sickness

So. Not least among the bad character qualities that parenting is ridding me of is JUDGEMENT. Prior to becoming a parent I would, not often, but sometimes, run across, say, a screaming infant on an airplane and think "Why isn't his parents even trying to calm him down?", completely unaware of just how much trying they were doing as they shushed and swaddled and swayed and sent telepathic messages to the baby's brain with every iota of energy in their body saying "Please, please, please not on the plane. You can cry all night and I won't complain." Now? I've been there. Not for long, because Scott is an awesome flier (3 roundtrips down before he turned 1!), but I understand sending bargaining telepathic messages and just how much energy that consumes.

Then there was Bib Judgement. Bibs look silly. They don't match the outfit (unless they do and that's almost sillier), they're gross, they're just ick. I no longer have bib judgement because I am mother to the world's happiest little drooler ever. Bibs are useful! They solve laundry issues! Yay for bibs!

But the thing I was most likely to unintentionally judge was Dried Boogie Face.

Scott, pobrecito, has had a fever for a couple days. And when it his fever gets high, his little nose and eyes make protective boogies. And no matter how much you clean his little face, 5 minutes later it is DBF again. Poor darling is having to go through so much to help me get over my vices.

Please send your "telepathic messages" our way for quick recovery!