Chicken Dinner

If you would have visited me nine years ago you would not have seen this.  I was a vegetarian then, and still have vegetarian thoughts now and again, but mostly I love cooking and I like eating meat.  It’s not an easy issue is it?

So my vegetarian heart is now turning around, probably with a few too many episodes of River Cottage and a few too many amazing recipes and with the building of a relationship with a local organic farmer.

Could I slaughter my own animal?  Probably not.  Do I think that it’s ironic that as I walk out of the farm store door with my first fresh farm chicken of the year, one comes around the corner and runs across the driveway in front of me?  Certainly, and I cannot help anthropomorphising  that this certain chicken is thinking “My God, I have to get out of here as quick as my little legs can carry me”.

But I do know if I am going to eat meat, it is nice to have this farm down the way, where I see the animals, roaming in the sunshine, eating grass and bugs and spreading their wings or legs and that they were treated lovingly and with deep respect while they were here with us.

And when I made this chicken Sunday night.  The herbs slid nicely under the skin, the meat was flavorful and tender and the girls got a lesson as we finished and I picked through the carcass preparing for stock and chicken pot pie later in the week.

I didn’t feel at all queasy ripping off the legs and the wings.  The girls were fascinated by all the bits.  What part is this Mommy?  That’s the leg bone where it’s foot would have been.  OH, it’s the ankle, the wing, the neck.  And then the ultimate prize, the realization that not only does a turkey have a wishbone, so does a chicken.  And so it sits drying out on my windowsill.

(Mr. Chicken, night two, in my Grandmother’s birthday pot pie.)

I feel so lucky that we live where we do and we have access to local, fresh organic food.  I may be wrong about the meat eating thing.  It runs against my buddha nature.  We still are trying two-three vegetarian meals a week.  I may change my mind.  My girls may decide against it.

That will be okay.  In the meantime, I’m lucky.

Because I have a farmer.  A real farmer.

How lucky is that?

So Many Layers….

A Present.

I did not do much to mark the occasion of the divorce.  I made it through the testimony fine.  I teared up when my amazing mother testified as my witness.  It was a dual punch of hearing the officialness of the divorce and hearing my mother continue to stand with me as she has always, always done, right or wrong, good or bad through 37 years.  My Mama and I had peach smoothies afterwards and held hands in a bagel shop. I took the girls to see Night at the Museum II.  It was just what felt right.

However I did do something rather selfish. Throughout my marriage I could never have a pretty bedroom.  It always had to be masculine or neutral.  (Bleah, right).  So I was at Target the night before the hearing and found this Shabby Chic coverlet on clearance, (clearance people, as in super-duper on sale).  Then I went the next aisle over and found these lovely spring green bamboo sheets that feel like heaven.  When I was married I couldn’t have a girly bed and I certainly never had enough money to treat myself.  So, I bought them both.  And now my bed looks like this. It makes me feel happy and at peace when I climb in and my bunkmate agrees that it’s not only pretty but so darn comfy.

It Was Raining

so we took our cones to-go.

mama said, make sure not to spill

but was the first to drip chocolate on her white sleeve.

Another Great Find…

First, a thanks, to all my family, friends and fellow Twitterbugs, Bloggers, and Facebook pals who sent me loving wishes yesterday as I headed to my divorce hearing.  It has been a long journey to get here (14 month separation) but in the end I felt confident going in that I gave the marriage every opportunity I could in the face of dealing with addiction and that every second and dollar of it was worth the outcome for both myself and my girls.

So on a lighter  note, I said previously that I was going to try to make up some sandwich and snack bags to rid ourselves of the plastic baggy lunch waste.  Coming to face with some serious reality, like lack of time and the outdoors being a priority in this lovely weather, I decided to rely on the talents of other creative  mothers out there to do the job for me.  So I headed where I always do first, Etsy, because I believe wholeheartedly in supporting small time artisans and purveyors of the handmade, homemade lifestyle.

And so yesterday I got this lovely package from Little Green Pea, who sent the loveliest of sandwich and snack bags and they are  just what I needed.  I have ordered a second group from another seller and will post when I get them.

So if you were looking for another easy way to cut back on waste, here is a nice recommendation and if you are less pressed for time than I am you can break out that fabric stash and make your own.

Day of Divorce

Today I step into the courtroom and my eleven-year marriage comes to an end.  I do not feel sad, so do not worry about me, the blessing of a fourteen-month separation is that by the time the divorce happens, your heart is on the mend.  Therefore, I continue on with this new chapter I find myself writing.

Letting Go

author unknown.

To let go doesn’t mean to stop caring;
It means I can’t do it for someone else.
To let go is not to cut myself off…
It’s the realization that I can’t control another…
To let go is not to enable,
but to allow learning from natural consequences.
To let go is to admit powerlessness,
which means the outcome is not in my hands.
To let go is not to try and change or blame another,
I can only change myself.
To let go is not to care for, but to care about.
To let go is not to fix, but to be supportive.
To let go is not to judge,
but to allow another to be a human being.
To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes,
but to allow others to affect their own outcomes.
To let go is not to be protective,
it is to permit another to face reality.
To let go is not to deny, but to accept. To let go is not to nag, scold, or argue,
but to search out my own shortcomings and correct them. To let go is not to adjust everything to my desires,
but to take each day as it comes and cherish the moment.
To let go is not to criticize and regulate anyone, but to try to become what I dream I can be.
To let go is not to regret the past,
but to grow and live for the future.
To let go is to fear less and love more.

Wordless Wednesday: My Same Sweet Baby

Mama’s Interview

Inspired by  Earthmama’s post on Ride The Waves of Life.

Mom (37) interviews Ems (8) and Boo (6):

1. What is something mom always says to you?

Ems: PICK UP YOUR CLOTHES

Boo: I LOVE YOU.

2. What makes mom happy?

Ems: WHEN WE CLEAN UP ALL OUR MESSES.

Boo: US BEING REALLY GOOD

3. What makes mom sad?

Ems: WHEN WE HURT EACH OTHER.

Boo: WHEN WE BE REALLY MEAN.

4. How does your mom make you laugh?

Ems: YOU TICKLE ME.

Boo: BY TICKLING US.

5. What was your mom like as a child?

Ems: YOU WERE KIND OF CRAZY CAUSE YOU RAN AROUND IN YOUR DRESS UPS.

Boo: FUN.

6. How old is your mom?

Ems: 37

Boo: 23

7. How tall is your mom?

Ems: 4 FEET.

Boo: 30.

8. What is her favorite thing to do?

Ems: SEW.

Boo: TAKE PICTURES.

9. What does your mom do when you’re not around?

Ems: YOU PROBABLY MAKE DINNER, SIT DOWN ON THE COUCH AND WATCH A MOVIE.

Boo: MISS US.

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?

Ems: HER QUILTS.

Boo:  A CAMERA TAKER.

11. What is your mom really good at?

Ems: COOKING.

Boo:   LOVING US.

12. What is your mom not very good at?

Ems: GROWING PLANTS.

Boo: REMEMBERING.

13. What does your mom do for her job?

Ems: YOU WORK IN A BANK.

Boo: GIVES PEOPLE MONEY.  ACTUALLY, THEY GIVE YOU MONEY.

14. What is your mom’s favorite food?

Ems:  LASAGNA.

Boo: COOKIES.

15 If your mom was given one wish, what would it be?

Ems: TO HAVE THE FAIRY CLEAN THE DISHES FOR YOU.

Boo:  BE RICH.

They’ve got my number!  Please feel free to play along.  It was a great boost!  Thanks Earthmama for the fantastic idea!

Sewing Sunday

She got a sewing kit from her Aunt Karen for Christmas or her birthday.  I don’t remember.  I was changing out curtain rods in the three bedrooms.   She caught me in the middle to ask if she threaded the needle correctly.  I sighed and then remembered that this was much more than hanging curtains.  This was teaching my daughter to sew.  This was opportunity.  We sat side by side on her bed.  We lined up the felt cat pieces.  We pinned the top.  We chose the button eyes and decided on contrasting thread.  She learned to sew a button and do a blanket stitch.  She wore her measuring tape like a badge of honor.  She, always my daughter, tired of it fairly quickly, but next weekend, I will set aside the time and we might finish the head.  So much to do, so little time, but you only get so few of these opportunities.

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday 6.20.09

A peaceful ending to a quite chaotic day.