I'm cooking... one day my kids will eat it.... right?

There are some days parenting when I pull out my hair. Sometimes I just (despite knowing better and caring more) want to let things happen. You know, let it go all Lord of the Flies in here. Survival of the fittest. Definitely Elio is the fittest. At the very least, he's the loudest. But, Matteo is the persistent, and slightly sneaky, antagonizer. It's exhausting to be mediating all the time. It's like being Whoopi, stuck between Joy and Elizabeth. Poor Whoopi.

There are also times when I feel like handing my kids a wooden spoon and telling them to fly at it. Certainly, they don't seem to care for what I offer them. So do it yourself boys. Elio's two- his menu would be lollipops, grapes and honeycomb cereal. Matteo, probably Kinder Surprises and Nutella. Out of the jar. Bread? Cut the middle man.

Yep. I have picky eaters. So picky in fact I have been known to take a certain child into the doctors office and demand medication. If not for him, for me.  Please. Since almost the beginning of his time, this child has made the Italian in me boil. It is ethnically, genetically and culturally ingrained in me. EAT SOMETHING!!! I can't help myself. Despite reading books about how to get your kid to eat, and the cognitively understanding the reasons for not forcing your kid to eat, I can't accept it. There is almost no one in my life that hasn't at some point in time assured me that this is a phase, but it has been long enough that I am quite sure I will be making my son a grilled cheese sandwich at his wedding. That will be the last one though. After that, he's his wife's problem. Recently I do have to admit, there has been some progress, but still, not enough to sustain this kid. You see, produce, anything that is grown from plant matter, fruit or veggies no difference, is verboten on my son's plate. He won't touch it with a 10 ft. pole. Heck, he won't touch it with an 11 ft. pole. I have made it my mission to find ways to get it into him. I am an alchemist... I turn fruit and veg into baked goods, sauces and breakfast foods. Sometimes it works, most often, it doesn't. We get by. But if I sound slightly coo-coo for cocoa puffs to you, there is the explanation. There is also no one in my life that has asked me, why make anything special? If he won't eat what you make him, tough, he can go hungry. But that's just it!! The kid is Ghandi... his passive resistance technique is perfected, and he has no issue with hunger, it only makes him more victorious.

This all is rather mystifying as we are good eaters. We shop the perimeter of the store. I have never bought a jar of baby food in my life, for either child. We eat well balanced and healthy, home-cooked meals. This is not to say we eat strange and hard to pronounce and spell roughage... I don't expect that of my kids, but you'd think being born into a family where good food is abundant, and mealtime is more than sustenance, (it is social and an  integral part of each day), that they'd not be so resistant. Oh well, it is what it is. Everyone has their struggles. Until then, I shall be satisfied to feed others.

Tonight for instance. My dad, Ren and Bill are coming for dinner. Usually I don't feed guests peasant food, but tonight I am. You know, the cheap, healthy and hearty sort of thing? They've been working hard. They need some "stick to the ribs". So chilli it is. The irony of this is not lost on me. One of my most loathed foods as a kid was anything involving beans. I HATED beans. I perfected the "mouthful-of-beans-mum-I-have-to-go-to-the-bathroom" trick. You know the one? When you spit the mouthful into the toilet and give it a good flush to so you don't have to swallow it? Of course you know the one. Ok, so maybe finicky eaters is karma. What is it my mum says? "If you spit in the air, it lands in your face."  At any rate, I like making chilli. I like freezing chilli. And in fact, I no longer mind eating chilli. It is seriously so convenient and easy, and so nutritious, how can you go wrong? Trouble is, I am incapable of making a reasonable amount. When I make chilli, I only know how to make enough to feed a small continent. Tonight's batch will serve tonight's meal for four of us (you know my kids won't touch it!!) and probably will allow for at least 7 foil packages of enough chilli for two people. I'm sending it home with my sister who is busy with the farm these days- who can't use a freezer full of ready-made meals right?

Given my hatred for beans, my chilli contains very few of them (although I do put some in), and lots of everything else: corn, red pepper,  mushrooms,  ground beef, pickle (yes pickle) and pineapple (yes pineapple). I like to put a bottle of beer in (leftover Winter Ale never hurt anyone), and sometimes, a squirt of BBQ sauce. Sounds disgusting, I know!! But it is so good. Just trust me on that. Served with buttered bread, a side salad, grated cheddar, a spoonful of sour cream and chives on top.... yum. Good groceries.

In the meantime, despite being a downtrodden soldier, oops, I mean mother, I shall persist. One day they shall get bored of hot dogs, grilled cheese and cereal and see things my way... right? I sure hope so! I love those little knuckleheads heads too much to give up without a fight at least. So I keep on keeping on. That's just the way it goes.

Happy trails!

What does a stupid rodent know anyway??

Punxsutawney Phil doesn't know what he's talking about. It's spring. Ok, it might be raining so hard these days that I'm contemplating trading in my minivan for an Amphibian. And it might be cold enough to see your breath in the morning. But I've put away our winter warm and woolies. And I'll be darned if I take them out again. Besides there are signs of spring everywhere. I saw my first bear of the season yesterday on the way to work (up from his nap I believe). My bulbs have sprouted (despite the fact I've been trying to get rid of the things and pulling tons of them out every year because I don't want them there anymore!!!). They are multiplying. My hellebores are swelling pink and are getting ready to bloom (nice bit of colour in an otherwise dreary landscape).

The most exciting part about this spring is that it has been over a month since I heard my sister whine that she "wants a garden centre". Seriously, weekly we'd have a conversation that ended in "I just want a garden centre." That has come to an absolute stop because she finally bought one. Yes! There is a new member of the family, Trice Farms. This has been a long held dream of hers, and it is so cool to see that she and Bill have made it their reality. You have to understand that we are talking about my sister, who, while I was inside playing Barbies or practicing piano, was outside earning Junior Gardener awards for the Fall Fair. Can you hear the theme song to the Andy Griffith Show? No we didn't grow up in Mayberry North Carolina.  Yes, there was a Fall Fair (in fact I rode on the float in the Fall Fair Parade many a time dressed as a bird, or a cowgirl or something to that effect, also I played piano on a flat bed truck with Pinto Music school for the same parade). Man, I wish I had the pictures of Ren's 10 year old self with her wheel barrow of produce. Might be time to dig out Mum and Dad's old photo albums. Renata is too busy to kill me for putting them online right? Anyways, to make a short story long, we were really excited when we got the news that the purchase went through and that she was selling her townhouse and heading to live on 5 lovely acres of farmland in Maple Ridge.

I'm sure there will come a time when having boys around out there will come in very handy...  she's got built in jo-boys in Matteo and Elio. But it'll be a few years before they are useful. Currently they are helpful like a band-aid on a corpse. And given my time is largely taken up by them, I've not been that useful myself out there. But I've managed to go out a few times to lend a hand when I can. I went out on Friday night and helped stock shelves. And for the first time it looked like a store. Things were cleaned up,  rearranged, stocked and ready to go. It is still early of course, so full inventory isn't the name of the game yet, but they are certainly getting there. Long tables filled with beautiful plump primulas, hellebores, crocuses and racks of perennials make it official that spring has arrived.

This week they start planting their own hanging baskets. My dad came down today to help out with that project, and no doubt others too. It is pretty cool- the gardening Sensei himself is now working for his protege. What's better than that? Given he's Mr. Green Thumbs himself, I think he'll be tickled pink with all this.

Nosey-butt-in-skis that we are, we went looky looing around this morning... and paparazzi that I am, I brought my camera:

On Dewdney Trunk Rd., past 240th.








Primulas definitely mean spring.

Hellebores are so bashful. Aren't they gorgeous?

These roses are grown by Brad Jalbert at Select Roses. I splurged big time last year and bought 4 of them. These ones that Renata has in are climbers, mine are hybrid teas and miniatures. They are so beautiful and prolific. These plants are big and heavy, and already budding out. One just might find its way home with me soon. 

See? Proof. Spring's here. You just have to go looking for it. 

Happy trails!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Well. It's that time of year again. I have to say, I really dislike Valentine's Day. So much fuss over nothing it seems. If you want to show someone you love them, why wait until an annual day? It's like you are filling a yearly quota in one shot. That's cheating. If you really love someone, show them all year long. I really think that the loads of laundry Ethan throws in without me asking him to, or the dirty diapers he voluntarily changes because he knows I loathe doing that mean so much more to me than any silly card, or candy, or flowers. Somehow, flowers mean more on January 10th, or March 30th, because they arrive out of the blue, than the customary contrived demonstrations of affection that are endorsed by all major retailers at this time of year.

I will say however, that Valentine's day is very fun if you are a kid. I used to love cutting out my valentines (remember how you used to have to cut them out yourself- why did the technology of perforation take so long to invent??) . We'd decorate a paper bag and tape it on our desk and by the end of the day, it would be full of valentines (not a single cartoon character among them) with funny little puns- like a picture of a train that said "Valentine, I choo-choo- chooose you! Inevitably, my mum would have a little surprise for us- I remember little containers of cinnamon hearts, and one year a little adorable pin with a cute mouse and hearts on it. I love that. Small surprises, what are better than small surprises? I'm pretty sure that I still have that little brooch- I loved it so much and the memory was so sweet, I couldn't bring myself to part with it.

So now that I have kids, stock in Valentine's Day has gone up a lot here in recent years. The first thing on the Valentine's agenda this weekend was bringing dessert to Canasta Night. I'm embarrassed to confess I've never made brownies from scratch before. Never. Always from a box. Horrendous. Turns out they're the easiest thing in the world to make and it only takes 1 bowl (HURRAY!!! I hate cleaning all the junk you need when you are baking). So, it was decided Brownies was the dessert. Once out of the oven, I cut them into heart shapes. I served them with caramel sauce (yummmmm....) and vanilla ice cream. What a hit! Everyone loved them- big and little. Elio is busy these days asking for a "Chawlie Bwown" every five minutes. What a guy. The recipe? I used my go to for any standard recipe, the Betty Crocker Cookbook. Here it is:

Chocolate Brownies
5 oz. unsweetened baking chocolate cut into pieces
2/3 cup butter or margarine
1 3/4 cups sugar
2 teaspoon vanilla
3 large eggs
1 cup flour
1 cup chopped walnuts
1. Heat oven to 350 F. Grease bottom and sides of 9x9 inch square baking pan with shortening.
2. In 1 quart saucepan, melt butter and chocolate over low heat, stirring constantly. Cool 5 minutes.
3. In medium bowl, beat sugar, vanilla, eggs with electric mixer on high speed, 5 min. Beat in chocolate mixture on low speed, scraping bowl as you go. Beat in flour until just  blended. Stir in walnuts and spread in pan. Bake 40-45 min, until sides pull away from the pan. Cool completely on wire rack about 2 hours.

This is the recipe for the caramel sauce (can't remember where I dug this up. I use this all the time for bread pudding.

1/2 cup butter
1 cup light brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup evaporated milk

In a saucepan over medium heat, melt butter and brown sugar. Bring to a boil and remove from heat. Stir in salt, vanilla and milk

It worked really nicely to put the sauce in a squeeze bottle and drizzle it on that way. Looks high class- takes minimal effort. My kind of dessert!

Next on the list was to get a treat together for the kids at daycare. This one was a fun one to do with Matteo. I found the idea on the Family Fun website: http://familyfun.go.com/crafts/butterfly-bounty-841052/
First we decorated each snack bag with a heart sticker.













Next, we had to fill snack sized ziplocs half full with your snack of choice (teddy bear graham crackers here):









Next, we painted wooden clothes pins with glitter glue. Painting is fun. Glitter is gross. What can you do?

To finish things off, we made antennae from silver pipe cleaners. I always knew Matteo was from Mars.

Once the paint dried, I glue gunned google eyes and the antennae on, and drew on a mouth. Here's the finished product- super fun right?

And finally. I was looking for a wee project to do for the boys. They are nuts about stuffed animals. They are the most played with things in our house, bar none. Some how I decided that they needed owls. A good many hours was devoted to web searches for downloadable patterns. And there were a good many. But Goldilocks over here was not satisfied... this one is too big, this one is too small, this one is too silly etc. So I got out a piece of paper and started drawing. I came up with something that looked reasonable to me, and decided to make my own pattern. Here's what I started with.

From this drawing I traced out individual pattern pieces. I cut them out as one does. The body of the owl and the heart shaped face of the owl, as well as the wings are done in a cotton. Scraps will do here- he's not a huge guy. The eyes, widow's peak, beak, belly hearts and feet are done in felt. I used felt against my better judgement. It looks super cute, but isn't terribly washable- which is a quality in children's play things that I value very highly (especially after this morning's mess, which I will not describe, but suffice it to say, NOT PRETTY).

The first thing I did was fuse the body together. I began with the heart shaped face. Using Wonder Under (I think that's what, it's called- fusible webbing, available at any fabric store), I ironed the webbing on to the piece, peeled back the paper, then ironed the part on to the body of the owl.








Once I fused this first piece, I appliqued it in place. I chose to use a satin stitch. Usually I wouldn't as it tends to ripple the piece, but it worked ok this time, and since it is a stuffed item, I figured the stuffing would eliminate any ripples.









From here, I fused the rest of the bits in place all together. Hint, if you are using felt, put a press cloth over top of it when you iron, so that the felt is not on the bottom of your iron. It tends to shrink and stick if you don't and that gets a bit messy. Next, I appliqued all the bits in place. I used a very narrow satin stitch for the small bits, and a wider satin stitch for the larger bits.






My initial intention was to sew up the feet and stuff them. But they are small and finicky, and I'm very lazy. So I just cut two feet from felt, and sewed them together to make them a bit thicker, and they are fine. You could certainly stuff them- that would be really cute, but tricky given the small size.  Don't look too closely... it's folk art right? Haha.






Next I placed the feet on the body, and pinned the back of the bird on- right sides together. I sewed them up leaving an opening for stuffing about where the wing would be (so the wing can hide my ugly hand stitch up job. I've discovered that snuggling is a dangerous sport for stuffies- they take a licking. So in order to prevent future surgery jobs, I stitched "in the ditch", on top of my original stitch line to add strength. This is also helpful as I like toys that are rather firmly stuffed, so there is pressure on the seams.

Mr. Owl was then turned about and ready to stuff. Before I stuffed, I made his wings. Each side of Mr. Owl has two wings- one in the main colour (on top) and one in the contrast colour (on bottom). The top wing is lined in felt for a bit of substance. It is also top stitched. I found it helpful to clip the felt lower at the top than the outside pieces, and cut the corners at a diagonal. This made it much easier to finish and turn the top edge under. 

I sewed up the bottom wings in the contrast colour, turned them and top stitched them also. Once all these bits were done, I machine sewed the bottom wing to the top wing. This allowed me to hand sew through only one "wing" when attaching them to the owl:

And once that was done, and he was stuffed, about midnight last night, I had a new friend- he's such a hoot:

And because my kids see nothing ridiculous about fighting over two identical items, each owl has a heart appliqued on his hiney that now, after this photo was taken, has each boy's name in fabric paint. I have to say, that for my first attempt at making up a pattern, I'm feeling just a bit pleased with myself. It was smooth sailing, and he's the perfect size. He's a gratifying hug indeed (I put beanie pellets in his keister too so he's got some good weight to him). Granted, he's a bit lumpy and thick around the middle, but then so I am. I think he'll be a hit. I hope he will anyways!

Should anyone want a go at this project, let me know- I would be happy to pass along the pattern, but can't figure out how to attach a downloadable pdf file to this blog. If you'd like it, leave me a comment and I will email it to you.

And despite all my grumping about Valentine's Day, I'm sorry I didn't get on the band wagon sooner. I've seen a couple other little projects that look easy and fun that I would like to try. Ah well, there's always next year. 

Happy trails!

Fun and games!

Well, the week started off so lovely, but dreary it has become once again. I hate the rain. You can take a girl out of the interior, but you can't take the interior out of the girl. That being said, there is lots to look forward to. I'm counting down until Saturday. We're almost there- how bad can it be right?

Saturday is Canasta Night. Yes, I know, despite being 30 years old, I sound like a card carrying member of the Kiwanis club when I talk about playing canasta. But believe me, it is super fun. We have very wonderful friends, Brian and Adriana. I first met them as I taught their daughter at my first school. It was a high school, and I was co-directing a production of Fiddler on the Roof. I needed a props master- someone who was crafty and clever. Instinct told me Adriana was the right choice. And boy, was I right! She's never short on good ideas, and clever plans to make things. And with the help of her equally crafty and clever hubby Brian, we had the best props ever for that show. Anyway, we got to know them very well. So well in fact, they are Elio's god parents. Somehow, and how on earth this happens I will never know, canasta came up in conversation. (I know, it really is shocking- who talks about canasta anyway?!)

Italian playing cards

I've always liked playing cards. This stems from my Nonno Giovanni who taught me to play good old Italian classics like Scoppa and Briscola. Playing with him, using those beautiful Trevigiane cards, was my favourite thing to do. He taught me the names of all the suits in Italian (Coppi, Bastoni, Dinari, Spade). It's been years since I've played those games, but I will sit my dad down to refresh my memory one of these days. Would be nice to pass these game on to my kids too.

Ethan and I first learned to play canasta from his parents. They in turn learned from their parents. I suppose when one lives on a farm in small town Saskatchewan, prior to fascinating technology and Facebook, people used to visit. Imagine that! And they'd play cards. We picked this up from them while Ethan and I were still dating, and have been playing ever since.The version we play is a hand and foot version (meaning you get a hand of cards and a foot of cards, both which need to be played). The game takes a good hour and half or so to play out. We picked this up from them while Ethan and I were still dating, and have been playing ever since.

Imagine our delight when we discovered that Brian and Adriana played too. Our versions of the game had ever so slight differences, but  the bones were the same. It is going on 5 or so years since we've met, usually monthly or so, to play canasta. Sometimes we do dinner first, other times, snacks and cards only. In any case, it is always fun. We always have a great time- no one is overly competitive (we play boys versus girls), although we keep track of who is leading. One particularly memorable canasta night, we decided to surprise our friends with a trophy. Ethan went down to the trophy store in search of the tackiest trophy he could find. He came home with the  Canasta Cup (a hideous little monstrosity featuring a hand holding playing cards). We were all excited when Brian and Adriana arrived, to present the prize. They looked at the thing and burst out laughing. Adriana promptly reached into her bag and pulled out an identical hideous little monstrosity. They had had the same brain wave too. It was pretty funny- guess great minds think alike. Inevitably during the course of a canasta night, (which is now branching into canasta/hearts night) something is said that is so funny that I end up sucking my drink up through my nose. And laughing that hard feels so good. Amazing that all this technology that we now have to keep us in touch sort of does the opposite. I love Facebook don't get me wrong, but it is isolating. Why leave the house to socialize when you can do it at home by yourself in your pajamas? Canasta night keeps us together. Love lifts us up where we belong. This is starting to get schmalzy. I know. I'll stop.

Suffice it to say, I highly recommend Canasta. And the snacks and drinks that it brings. Here's a little bonus recipe for you, introduced to us by Brian and Adriana. It's our favourite drink (particularly good in hot weather). But be careful, they sneak up on you. Let me say, none of these ingredients are things I like in isolation, but mix them together in a pitcher and I am in trouble.

Beergaritas
3 Corona
1 cup tequila
1 can frozen limeade concentrate

Mix together in a pitcher and serve cold (I like to float lime slices in them. Also, salt or sugar on the rim of the glass is nice too).



Off I go... kids are napping and I'm plotting my next trip to the fabric store.
Stay dry.
Happy Trails!

Finito. Finally!!

Good grief. My poor husband. He's going to start working on the weekends at McDonalds because it would be less work than having weekends "off". Matteo's room is done, thanks in large part to the elbow grease and painting/drilling proficiency of my husband. I am sure he would have rather done something else, anything else this weekend, but he's a good guy. He humours me a lot.

This all started in ernest on Friday. Who's says Italians don't camp? (I'm not sure that stereotype is true in most places, but it most definitely is here... where in the world would I plug in my hair dryer?!) We evicted Matteo from his bedroom that evening at set up tent city in the basement (just practicing for later Occupy endeavours in the future right? At the risk of sounding like Cliff Huxtible, I sure hope it isn't foreshadowing "Occupy Mom and Dad's Basement" at age 30). Check out the temporary digs:

Ethan tried to hide in there with Matteo, but I found him. Over the course of Friday night and Saturday, Ethan managed to get the room painted. Funny, how when you repaint a room in a similar colour, it feels like you're actually doing nothing, but when you go from the colour on the right, to the colour on the left, in a teeny tiny bedroom in a house built in 1969, the perception of space is amazing!

We spent a good 3 hours playing rearranging furniture (I found a bookcase for $35 on Craigslist- told you I was cheap!) and then finally, this afternoon, I was able to hang the Roman blind. There is always that moment when I hold my breath praying that my measurements were right and that the thing actually fits (yes, I was known in high school to sit at the kitchen table in tears nightly while my dad tried in vain to explain my math homework to me, one more time...). And then when it does fit I hear the Rocky song in my head... you know that beginning trumpet riff, and I start to dance. Then my husband looks at me, and I'm sure he's thinking I'm a complete macadamia. Hanging a Roman blind is gratifying, and pretty easy. We got a piece of white moulding, made of MDF (medium density fibreboard) and inserted eyelets to it. The eyelets have to line up with your rows of rings on your blind. This was screwed up above the window. I added the sticky velcro next. Then, you tie your cord to the bottom ring of each vertical row of rings, and run the cord through the rest of the rings in each row. From there, you pull each cord length through the rest of the eyelets across the board, so that all the cords come out on one side. (Hmmm... not a clear or succinct explanation at all. Well, if you are actually wanting the nitty gritty details of this, let me know, I'll draw you a picture.)

 I always braid the cords together, so that my pull cord looks okay and stays neat and tidy. I also use clear nail polish on the ends of the cords so that they don't fray. Once all that was done, up went the valance (seriously, they easiest thing in the world to make, took me about 20 minutes). And.... voila!!

 Open sesame....

And here's the happy tenant... geez, maybe I should charge rent?

Don't let that picture fool you... lately it is stick, gloves and shirt around here. I should be wearing a helmet, black and white stripes and an armband everyday. Sigh. 

Overall, project successful. And thank goodness for that. Although, the unsuccessful story of my last attempt would be a far more entertaining blog post. But, in the interest of saving my sanity, I'm glad it wasn't replayed here. The room looks much better- nice when the effect you were hoping a project would have is actually realized. 

I guess it is time for another project. But not tonight. Tonight, I'm going to imprint the couch with my keister while watching American Pickers. 

Buonos Noches Muchachos...