Hasse

For the first time in many weeks, Rob and I had a day off together.  Luckily, it was a beautiful day, so we drove out to Lake Hasse, about 45 minutes away, for some canoeing and fun in the park.  

 

We fished for about an hour, but no luck.  We ended up having hotdogs for lunch.

Isabella loved being out by the water

After more than half an hour on the swings, I finally had to pull her off so we could go home (she didn't like that one bit)

On the way home: Isabella was very dirty but very happy.  Nothing suits her better than a day outdoors.

It was a perfect day.

Isabella the Terrible

It turns out the "terrible twos" phase is not just a myth.  Isabella is turning into the cutest little monster I've ever seen.  Besides being hyper and always getting into trouble, she also screeches like a banshee whenever we suggest she do something she doesn't feel like doing.  Or even when she does want to do it, sometimes.  

I came home from work today to discover my living room had been redecorated.  The walls, floor, and cabinets were all a beautiful shade of crayon blue.  Where Rob was when all this was happening I don't know, but at least he helped me clean it up.  I don't think Isabella quite got the point from my stern lecture; now she'll point to the walls and say "bad Bella, very bad" -- while giggling.

If she weren't so adorable, that girl would be in big trouble.

I didn't think of taking a picture of Isabella's "artwork" until after most of it had been cleaned up.  I could have saved it for my blackmail folder...

Cake-cakes

I like to make something special for breakfast on Sundays.  You know, a break from the usual oatmeal and cold cereal.  This is the one day of the week where all three of us are together, rather than spread all over the city in our various pursuits (work, mostly).  I've been eyeing up a recipe in my quinoa cookbook for months, but I've never had all the ingredients on hand.  Yesterday I decided I didn't care and would make Pumpkin Pancakes anyway.

Pumpkin Pancakes

1 1/2 cups quinoa flour                     1 3/4 cups buttermilk/sour milk

1/4 cup packed brown sugar             1 cup pureed pumpkin

2 tsp baking powder                         2 large eggs

1 tsp baking soda                            2 Tbsp vegetable oil

1 tsp allspice                                  1/2 cup toasted pecans

1 tsp cinnamon                               whipped cream/maple syrup optional

1/2 tsp ginger

1/2 tsp salt

Mix together all the ingredients on the left side.  In a separate bowl, mix together the wet ingredients.  Add the wet to the dry and mix just until blended.  Cook like you would regular pancakes.  Serve with pecans and maple syrup.

Sounds pretty good, right?  Don't tell Rob (he liked the pancakes) but I didn't have any pumpkin so I used sweet potato instead.  You would never know the difference.  I also used half the amount of quinoa flour and used regular flour for the rest.  And I mixed the pecans right in with the flour because I like pecans and it's easier to eat that way.

Despite all my interference, the pancakes were delicious!  The "pumpkin" added a sweet undertone, but wasn't overwhelming.  And I loved all the nuts.  Isabella calls them "cake-cakes" and ate more than Rob and I together (that girl can eat!).

Verdict: I'm definitely going to make these again!

This is the picture from the book.  Mine didn't look this deliciously gooey.  But they were still great.

  

I've got a fever! (and not for Beiber)

I know there are millions of you out there right now who are enjoying the sweetness of Spring.  The warm sun, the crisp, fresh air, blossoms poking their heads out of the ground, maybe even green grass?  It should be spring here.  But it isn't.  Last week we had a couple days in a row where we actually took the negative sign off of the temperature, and in those two days I got spring fever so hard that now I can barely sleep at night.  As I lay in bed, I can feel my blood tingling with anticipation of the coming months, when the snow will finally melt!  When I can plant my garden, and go for picnics, and take Isabella to the playground and the park... there are so many possibilities!  While I was out shovelling snow yesterday (yes, we're still getting more snow here) I put Isabella in her snowsuit and let her play outside with me.  After I had scraped enough snow away, a bit of our brown, dead lawn was revealed.  Isabella was fascinated with it; she kept looking and pointing and asking me "what's that Mom?"  How sad that my daughter doesn't know what grass is!  She is, however, very familiar with snow, and points it out at every opportunity.


To help me cope with my need for spring, I bought some daffodils.  There are thousands of gorgeous varieties of flowers, but none carry the promise that early spring flowers do.  A lilac, while beautiful, doesn't say that winter is finally over; a rose, while sweet, is a last lingering taste of summer.  Daffodils are so wonderful to me because they are they heralds of spring; they declare that things are only going to get better.  

(As an aside, I do really like winter; I couldn't live anywhere that doesn't have it.  But after six months of -40 and piles of snow, I'm ready for spring!)

32

This last weekend was Rob's birthday (I won't say which one- some people are so touchy about their age).  No crazy partying for us old folks, but we did manage to have a nice dinner together.  Isabella and I made lasagna and monochromatic greek salad (I didn't realise until it was too late that we were out of both cucumber and green pepper, so there was a lot of red) and carrot cake with nuts and cream cheese icing for dessert.  Yum!  Isabella is big into "helping".  While I cut up the vegetables for the salad, she mixed them together, yes, but a lot of them mysteriously disappeared.  But icing the cake together was fun, even if it turned out a little less professional than I had originally intended.  I wanted to get a picture of Isabella licking out the bowl afterward (she's so dang cute!), but as soon as I brought out the camera she turned into her I'm-crazy-because-there's-a-camera-in-view self.  Maybe next time.

Happy birthday Rob!
 

Sweet, Sweet, Valentine's Day

What I am about to say may make you think differently about me.  Maybe even less of me.  But I don't care, because this is just too exciting to keep to myself!

Rob and I aren't big into Valentine's Day.  I know a lot of people (or at least a lot of fictional move/tv people) go all out- have a fancy dinner with rose petals strewn all over the house while an airplane writes "I love you" in the sky, a string quartet plays romantic music, and an ice sculpture of cupid melts in the corner.  We're more the type to say "happy valentine's day" with an accompanying kiss.  Maybe something special for dinner, maybe not.  One year when I went to bed I found a box of chocolates under my pillow.

This year, though, Rob went a little crazy.  He decided that in the interest of improving our relationship, he would buy us ... a dishwasher!  I haven't had a dishwasher since I moved out of my parents house 81/2 years ago.  That's 3138 days of standing over a sink of hot water for at least half an hour, scrubbing, soaping, rinsing.  I didn't really mind doing them by hand, or at least I didn't mind before I had a crazy little girl to take up all of my time.  Ever since Isabella was born almost two years ago, I've tried to cram most of my tasks into the time when she's asleep (have you tried spending half an hour doing dishes while someone else is either tearing the house apart or howling for your attention?  It's very difficult).  

Our dishwasher was delivered Saturday morning (for free, of course).  We did a couple loads right away to get caught up; it was so nice to see bare counters after such minimal effort!  (By the way, our dishwasher is so awesome that it cleans off even weeks-old caked on nastiness; the secret is the steam cycle.)  When Isabella took her nap that afternoon my first thought was "Well, I guess I should do the dishes now."  I even went so far as to start walking toward the kitchen before I remembered there were no dishes for me to wash!

Maybe I'm a nerd, or someone who gets overly excited about kitchen appliances, but I have such a feeling of freedom!  Those precious minutes when Isabella is asleep do not have to be filled with the mundane task of washing dishes.  When I'm done with a dish, I just throw it in, and that night or maybe a day or two later (depending on how much cooking we've done) I press a button -- and go do the next thing on my list.  Or ignore the list and read a good book. 

Does anyone else do dishes by hand who can empathise with me here?  I wouldn't want to be labeled crazy...