Hope and Patience

Two things in short supply in my life at the moment.

We're in the midst of homeschool (since Rose [Joanna's code name, if mine is Samwise] is taking a voice class on Fridays and so is gone all day). So I've been running things during her absence for the last couple of weeks.

Legolas, if you're reading this: this is absolute confirmation that I should not teach second or third grade. Ever.

How Rose manages to keep her brain in one piece between cleaning, keeping Denver and Poncho on track, and keeping an eye on Born Dancin', I'll never know. I already knew it was an incredibly hard job, but sheesh. One kid is lolling out on the table, daydreaming; the other is tapping out mysterious rhythms with his pencil, and Born Dancin' has just emptied her water cup all over the living room carpet. Oh, yeah. Bring it on.

So I haven't posted forever, and I make no promises as to how often I'll pick it up again now. I'm trying to pare down things in my life as it is, and much as I love reading other people's blogs and feel free to chastise them for not posting, I'm coming to either (a) resent feeling guilty for not posting, and/or (b) spending too much time figuring out what I'm going to post. I've got endless amounts of other writing to do, and I've already given up World of Warcraft (only took me 3 months to come to rue buying that thing—entertaining time-waster extraordinaire) and other minor annoyances; most likely, we'll be getting rid of TV again this week. So I'll see you on here when I do.

Meanwhile, here's the wrap-up for the summer:

• Sequoia Camping—Our trip to the Sequoia National Monument went very well, despite a ten-hour drive home thanks to insane traffic. It was lovely up there, and, like a miracle, the fish-stocking folk from the Forest Service showed up again, netting us about 18 fish among the ten of us. Now the kids really do expect that is what fishing is like.


• Idaho—The long journey to Idaho was pretty fantastic. I'm always a fan of road trips, and the drive was excellent. We stopped by the Slaters' gorgeous house and had a blast for two days meandering through their idyllic country landscape at the foot of the Sierras. Grass Valley is a lovely place.
  
  Then it was on over the mountains to Nevada (and my deepest apologies to anyone who actually has to live there), then up through a corner of Oregon and on into Idaho. It was delightful to see the sister for a good solid week, though I think we wore her out and I can imagine the quiet after we departed was appreciated. We got to raft the river, go to a host of tasty restaurants, watch Grandma squirm while watching nature documentaries about cave lice and eyeless fish, and hang out among the charming Idahoans. We even got to visit my pseudo-relatives up in McCall, where I would move instantaneously if given the opportunity.
  
  The drive home was a little crazy and we got home one day before summer school started, but overall it was a lovely trip.


• Summer School—Speaking of summer school, don't.
  
  Eurgh. Due to issues with The Great Wall (discussed below), summer school was a kind of hell this year. I was behind constantly, missed too much class time, and basically felt as if I had been hollowed out and filled with poisonous millipedes all summer. It was a joy to be done, but some of the students still haunt me into this new semester.


• The Great Wall—Replacing our retaining wall has been the largest, most terrifying project I've ever taken on, and for several weeks there I thought we would literally be buried alive. Doing it ourselves was our only option (since our original contractor so severely underbid the job that we didn't have the funds to get professionals to do it). It seemed possible, but 100 feet of 4-foot wall was a monster. When the neighbors' yard filled up with pallet after pallet of 60-pound bricks, I almost fainted. God be praised, the army of friends and relatives mentioned in my previous post showed up to lend a hand, and through several weeks of toil, the vast majority of the wall arose. Yesterday we got the last load of capstones and I'll spend this weekend trying to finish the beast off to some extent. Now we just have to figure out how to get some stairs in here from the street...
  
  Oh—I forgot a couple of folks from my earlier list of helpers. Rose's sister and our niece and nephew spent at least one afternoon here lending a hand, and our former neighbor Debra spent so much time here in the early weeks of construction that I nearly forgot she didn't live here. Many thanks to them as well.


• The Neighborhood—Speaking of neighbors, don't.
  
  After having the house next door stand empty for half a year after the Claypools left, we got a herd of new people. Eight people in a house built for half that many. They're an interesting bunch. On first glance, the multiple tattoos, the incessant smoking, the fairly constant profanity, and the fleet of off-road vehicles did not inspire confidence. When the sheriff's officers showed up and had two of them on the ground in handcuffs with weapons drawn on the others, this did not improve our impression (Thankfully, this was mostly a misunderstanding, since someone had come and threatened them. Still, though...) However, they've proven to be very generous and easygoing folk, which was a blessing while we had their yard buried in bricks and since we have to tromp across their property to reach our house. Not an ideal situation, perhaps, but we're working things out. A lot of mental pressure there, whatever the case.


• The Present—(It ends soon, I promise.) So Fall semester is in full swing, and I feel more on top of things than I have for a while. (I'm still not anything like caught up, but I'm less behind than I have been lately.) I'm working on a murder party for my niece's 16th birthday, and I'm way behind on that. I dream daily of doing my own writing again (on the fancy new computer my wife brought back with her from her trip to Indiana for a week—all the children made it in one piece, which was a bonus) and not having much time to is frustrating. (And don't go pointing out that I could have done that rather than post here—this post has been cobbled together piecemeal over the last six hours whenever there was a pause in the homeschool regimen.) The yearning for a new place, for grasping a purpose and a plan beyond day-to-day survival is burning hot in me, and in Rose to some extent as well.

And that's about it. A giagantor post, but at least it's all out of my head now. I'll pop back in when I can, and God bless in the meantime to all my readers and fellow blogiteers.

Because This Is Easier than a Real Blog Post

First, I wanted to give my endless gratitude for all those who came and took a turn slaving on the Great Wall. It's now mostly finished, with just capstones and one tricky corner left to tackle. Most of the bricks are out of the neighbors' yard, and though the house is still a catastrophe, at least there isn't an insurmountable project hanging over us. So many, many thanks to Holly and Joseph, to Herr Eldevik, to Ben and Debbie, to Gimli and Frodo, and to my old man for helping out in various and highly needed ways.

Now, on to the easy bit:


From the blog, Very Good Taste

Here’s a chance for a little interactivity for all the bloggers out there. Below is a list of 100 things that I think every good omnivore should have tried at least once in their life. The list includes fine food, strange food, everyday food and even some pretty bad food - but a good omnivore should really try it all. Don’t worry if you haven’t, mind you; neither have I, though I’ll be sure to work on it. Don’t worry if you don’t recognise everything in the hundred, either; Wikipedia has the answers.

Here’s what I want you to do:

1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Optional extra: Post a comment here at www.verygoodtaste.co.uk linking to your results.


My results:

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile (Well, actually, alligator, but I consider another large, water-borne reptile close enough)
6. Black pudding (Ah, British cuisine... Bring it on.)
7. Cheese fondue (Is there anyone born in '70s America who hasn't had this?)
8. Carp
9. Borscht (Not quite stroganoff, but still good stuff.)
10. Baba ghanoush (I'm kind of shocked I haven't had this yet.)
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi (I might have had this at one of my visits to Indian restaurants in England, but if I can't remember for certain, I won't claim it. Sounds yummy.)
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses (Man—why haven't I had this yet?)
17. Black truffle (I wish.)
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns (Huzzah for dim sum!)
20. Pistachio ice cream (But why pistachio? Is it magic or something?)
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries (Stealing blackberries from the neighbor's yard is fun.)
23. Foie gras (A bit cruel, but what can you do?)
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese (Can't say I'm all eager, but I'd give it a shot.)
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper (Wowsers!)
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters (Actually haven't had these; again, I'm not going to run out and find them [especially after watching Mr. Bean eat them], but I'd try them out.)
29. Baklava (Oh, mama.)
30. Bagna cauda (Sounds yum.)
31. Wasabi peas (Though I can't imagine eating one again.)
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl (Yes!)
33. Salted lassi (Sounds weird, but okay.)
34. Sauerkraut (I don't generally eat it unless threatened, however.)
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar (Sadly, not at the same time. Have to rectify that.)
37. Clotted cream tea (Oh, man. Don't get me started on clotted cream.)
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O (Never did a shooter. Can't quite see the point, since drunkenness is not my aim.)
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail (Do yourself a favor: eat this.)
41. Curried goat (Smelled it every day coming out of our apartment in Toronto, but never actually got around to eating it.)
42. Whole insects (On purpose? If pressed, I suppose.)
43. Phaal (Holy moly. Well, okay.)
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more (Not as of yet, but I'd sign on.)
46. Fugu (More of a legend than a dish; there's no way I'd ever afford this, but if someone I knew and trusted gave me some, okay.)
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel (They used to raise these by the ton in the canals of Edinburgh, so how could I say no?)
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut (Waaay too sweet, but I've eaten them, yes.)
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi (Gah. Our Japanese exchange student had us try these, and laughed his head off at our reactions. If you like squishy, slimy balls of salt, knock yourself out.)
53. Abalone (Ah, but they weren't illegal when I was a boy. Not bad.)
54. Paneer (If it's cheese, please put it into my mouth.)
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal (Sadly, yes. Many a time.)
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini (Never done the martini thing. Gin and tonic works wonders, though, save that it puts me to sleep almost instantly.)
58. Beer above 8% ABV (I'd try it, but I'm no fan of beer.)
59. Poutine (Sounds like we're making a road trip now.)
60. Carob chips (Not sure why you'd want to, but yes.)
61. S’mores (Too sweet and messy. I eat the components separately, usually.)
62. Sweetbreads (Meh. Why not? Might take some mental gymnastics, but I'd put it in my mouth.)
63. Kaolin (This the one I came closest to crossing off. Just... Why? If you are not poor and mineral deficient or pregnant, then why?)
64. Currywurst
65. Durian (Heard of this one—Guess I'd have to smell it to know for sure.)
66. Frogs’ legs (I'm pretty positive we had these in the South somewhere; if not, I'm still in.)
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake (Yes, please.)
68. Haggis (So want to try this, and so jealous of all the Burns Dinner folks. Joanna wasn't quite up to it, though.)
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette (Sir, I'll have you know that chitterlings kept my family alive during the War!)
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini (Not at the same time, though. Blini, yes—always. Caviar, only in tiny bits—in the immortal words of Scott Nelson, "It's like licking a pier.")
73. Louche absinthe (After watching Moulin Rouge, who wouldn't want to try this? Wee little Kylie Minogue fairy, here I come!)
74. Gjetost, or brunost (Cheese, so yes, please.)
75. Roadkill (Not yet, but kill a deer with a bullet or a bumper—it's all good.)
76. Baijiu (Don't see why not.)
77. Hostess Fruit Pie (I sometimes suffer cravings that can only be satisfied by a Fruit Pie the Magician apple infusion.)
78. Snail (Eating escargot is like eating a sponge full of garlic butter.)
79. Lapsang souchong (Sounds excellent.)
80. Bellini (The Italian physicist? Oh, the drink. Well, sure.)
81. Tom yum (Getting past the prawn head would be the challenge, yes.)
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky (Heard of it, even seen it, but never had any of it.)
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant (I wish.)
85. Kobe beef (Again, I wish.)
86. Hare (Not yet. Rabbit's fine, but I hear this is a different beast entirely. Never got over to Wales for the rarebit.)
87. Goulash (Oh, yes.)
88. Flowers (Candied orchids at my Elizabethan murder party. Tasty, if a bit chewy. Also, we used to eat the vinka flowers from the garden.)
89. Horse (Garrett swears up and down that this is fantastic; I'd give it a try.)
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam (Are you kidding, Marilyn? A little fried Spam is heaven for breakfast. Or a lot of fried Spam. Spam eggs Spam Spam Spam Spam Spam Spam Spam Spam Spam and Spam for me!)
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa (More willing to try this as my taste for hot things grows.)
94. Catfish (Not my favorite.)
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox (Once. Not again, save under duress.)
97. Lobster Thermidor (Oh, I wish.)
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee (Any coffee is good coffee.)
100. Snake (Rattlesnake is fine.)