Electric Grandmother

Maggie Croft's Personal Journal young spirit, wire-wrapped
spark electric grandmother
arc against the night

-- Lon Prater
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Spent a good portion of the night dreaming about cleaning out and scrubbing up and doing all sorts of strange and unnatural things to my refrigerator...

I'm not even going to ask what Freud would say.

Spent the morning getting Avadore off to school, LD put together for Rice and then went off to have my back worked on. Came home, got the kids something to eat and then took them to the grocery store.

Taking the kids to the store is always an adventure. Now, frankly, I enjoy going grocery shopping. It's one of my chores and I don't necessarily mind doing it, especially if I have access to a good farmers' market, whole foods store, that sort of thing. But to take a 4 year old and a 1 year old? Woah. I thought taking one 2 year old was wild enough. But, overall, they are both good kids and enjoy the outing. Still, it's exhausting.

I came home, gave the kids a snack (little kids eat like hobbits -- constantly), put them down for naps, and then put the groceries away. Lots and lots and lots of groceries.

I was putting some stuff away downstairs in the freezer when Rice came in and said something to the effect of "What should I eat for lunch?"

Yes, we do have one of those kinds of relationships.

Just kidding.

At first images of Rhubarb's men in hammocks went through my mind, but then I remembered that Rice is trying to watch what he eats to get into better shape, so I pointed out I'd just been shopping and we had lots of food. I made a couple suggestions (I think -- I was a little fried), but he wanted a bit more help.

We went upstairs and I tried to think about what he should eat. Complete block. I opened the fridge more blockage.

Uh... "Fruit? Vegetables?"

In the end, I made some quesadillas (with the necessary garlic salt) and spinach, orange, cranberry, red onion and blue cheese salad. And it felt good. Preparing it was centering, relaxing. And it was good, too.

In the past few years I have become a bit of a food snob. I'm a bit picky about what I buy and what is done with it. This doesn't mean that if someone wants to make me dinner that I'll complain... not usually. I mean, it helps if it tastes like something because if I eat food for long enough that doesn't taste like anything I get pretty picky, but in general if I didn't cook it tastes great. For example, Winter makes spaghetti using a bottle of sauce and a few other spices. It's fabulous. I inhale plate fulls of the stuff.

Note to self: When buying future houses, one of the most important rooms to look at is the kitchen. This house has a huge kitchen and I love it.

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