Add to my wish list
Another 18 kitchen counters, another 15 kitchen sinks and .... Honestly, I'd settle for a kitchen that is actually a kitchen. The table that separates my "kitchen" (appliances) from my "living room" looks like a ghost town. White towels are draped over a good many ferments and soaks. Forget trying to squeeze another thing on this table. Meanwhile, I'm prepping to dehydrate assorted veggies for a sort of homemade version of a veggie bouillon. Oh, and then there's the mozzarella cheese I'm trying to perfect make edible and less rubbery than a big rubberband-ball. Apparently, cheese is a finicky creature, wanting particular bacteria and certain room temps and who-knows-what-else. I've got to come up with a cheese that's happy cohabitating with other growing things in a space that's tighter than [we won't say].
In other news, have I told you lately how much I miss my grandgoobers? Yesterday, I talked with Jessica and the Connerbug. Conner turns TWO in a couple of weeks. I still vividly remember photographing his birth. (Come to think of it, I still far too vividly remember birthing Jessica (and the aftermath).) Conner likes to talk to grandma (even though I'm quite sure he has no idea who grandma really is). His response to everything is "YEAH!" The Codymonster was asleep when I called, so I didn't get to talk to him. The Codymonster jibbers a good jabber. He knows who grandma is. I should be pleased as punch and happy as a clam over it. But it makes me sort of sad. He still so clearly remembers grandma and the assorted silliness that came with grandma.
(This is Cody in Grandma's tutu (also wearing Grandma's barrettes, no doubt), petting a Harley.)
Cody and I talk of blowing bubbles and bees in books and soccer balls and snowballs and big trucks and bicycles and motorcycles and tunes we listened to in the car** and his helping grandma cook. He wants to visit grandma so badly that he cries over it. I do, too. (Although, last time I spoke with him, I asked if he would come help grandma weed her garden. His garbled (translated by Jessica) response was (with an implied "I can't"), "I have bad excema." Poor guy still has his excema.)
__________
** Nancy Cassidy's Kids Songs. If you have a kid or know a kid or are a kid-at-heart, get 'em, all of 'em. Try to, anyway. (I once looked to replace one of the cassette tapes. They were going for $100 on eBay. The follow-along books can be found; the cassette tapes cannot. When Jessica took off with the grandgoobers, I sent the tapes with her. Cody loved them too much to be without them. I didn't tell Jessica they were going for $100 on eBay. I was afraid she'd just hawk them. Instead, I think she's just lost them.)
In other news, have I told you lately how much I miss my grandgoobers? Yesterday, I talked with Jessica and the Connerbug. Conner turns TWO in a couple of weeks. I still vividly remember photographing his birth. (Come to think of it, I still far too vividly remember birthing Jessica (and the aftermath).) Conner likes to talk to grandma (even though I'm quite sure he has no idea who grandma really is). His response to everything is "YEAH!" The Codymonster was asleep when I called, so I didn't get to talk to him. The Codymonster jibbers a good jabber. He knows who grandma is. I should be pleased as punch and happy as a clam over it. But it makes me sort of sad. He still so clearly remembers grandma and the assorted silliness that came with grandma.
(This is Cody in Grandma's tutu (also wearing Grandma's barrettes, no doubt), petting a Harley.)
Cody and I talk of blowing bubbles and bees in books and soccer balls and snowballs and big trucks and bicycles and motorcycles and tunes we listened to in the car** and his helping grandma cook. He wants to visit grandma so badly that he cries over it. I do, too. (Although, last time I spoke with him, I asked if he would come help grandma weed her garden. His garbled (translated by Jessica) response was (with an implied "I can't"), "I have bad excema." Poor guy still has his excema.)
__________
** Nancy Cassidy's Kids Songs. If you have a kid or know a kid or are a kid-at-heart, get 'em, all of 'em. Try to, anyway. (I once looked to replace one of the cassette tapes. They were going for $100 on eBay. The follow-along books can be found; the cassette tapes cannot. When Jessica took off with the grandgoobers, I sent the tapes with her. Cody loved them too much to be without them. I didn't tell Jessica they were going for $100 on eBay. I was afraid she'd just hawk them. Instead, I think she's just lost them.)