You know those weekends, right?

It all started so well.  J had an awesome birthday, and then -because life tends to work that way- we got a piece of very unexpected news that threw us for such a loop that we’re still going around it.  Since it is not my news to disclose or discuss, I won’t do it, but suffice it to say that the weekend was (at best) interesting and (at worst) nerve-wracking.  We came out of it in one piece (one rather shaky piece,) and now it’s all a matter of time, patience and wisdom.

Aside from THAT…

We are snowed in.  Or, at least, we were snowed in this morning so the house was fully populated with humans and felines.  J, by the way, had his weather ESP going full-tilt last night because, even though it didn’t look like it would happen, he was requesting his IT’S A SNOW DAY PECS card.  When the phone rang (at 5 a.m., of course,) Kierkegaard didn’t even attempt to sell us the two-hour delay…we went straight to snow day.  When we walked to the sliding glass door to peer at the great outdoors we realized that, yes, Snow Day was an apt name for what was going on outside.  Eight inches of snow had fallen overnight, and it had not stopped yet.

J was totally cool with the Snow Day, and he even looked at Dada and TGG as they headed out the door with a look that seemed to say “oh, heading out???  Yeah…tell me about it later, will ya?”  Snow was shoveled off the driveway, windshield was cleared…off to the wilds of the snowy landscape…

The phone rang not five minutes later: we are stuck!  That was a mild exaggeration; they were stuck because other people were stuck behind an accident on the main road, and the opportunity to get out of our neighborhood was…well…at the time it was nil to none.  Ten minutes after that they trampled back into the house, covered with snow and in foul moods.  I sent everyone to change into warm at-home clothes, and J stood there looking at them as if to say “see?  I knew this was going to happen!”

Dada worked from home.  TGG helped with chores.  J and I worked on numbers today; not only the number itself, but the word for it.  Yesterday we did words…it was beautiful.  J’s word recognition skills are way better than I imagined, and with the help of his Proloquo, we can reinforce those words that he hesitates on because the symbols are too similar…for example: CLOUD and CLOWN were giving him pause.  Now I have to help him untangle the symbols, and off we go in some new direction.

So the day has been spent as productively as a day at home can be spent when it’s as impromptu as all this.  We can’t complain.  We made pepperoni rolls from scratch, worked on what needed to get done, J cheated (as in got hammer-happy) while playing Don’t Break the Ice, and now we’re waiting for news on tomorrow’s school schedule.

On the food news front: J loves avocado.  J loves avocado as a side.  J loves avocado in his tacos.  J loves orzo.  J loves orzo to the point where the chopped green onions I threw into our side-dish were totally inconsequential to he who usually picks green things out of food.  On Sunday morning, because Sundays are for nice, relaxing breakfasts that hold you ’til dinner, I made scrambled eggs and added spinach and carrots to them.  I was ready for the naysayers to come out of the woodwork because, quite frankly, there was no masking the fact that these were eggs heavy on the vegetables.  They looked like confetti had been thrown in them.  I had added (because I’m the cook and I CAN) vegetable broth to the stuff in the bowl, and this didn’t seem like a promising batch of anything I’ve ever cooked.  The WAS a brief hesitation, but it was very brief and it gave way to a happy and enthusiastic consumption of the weirdest looking batch of scrambled eggs I’ve ever cooked.

In hindsight, I’m not as surprised as I’d like to think I am.  J ate pigeon peas the other night…  If you’ve never had pigeon peas, you don’t know what you’re missing.  Whether it’s cooked with rice or stewed with potatoes and such, the pigeon pea is delicious and very nutritious.  Pigeon peas are high in protein, and back home -if you’re anemic like I am- they will serve you pigeon peas at any turn.  This, believe me, is a definitely more delicious alternative than being served liver.  Legumes are no longer strangers to J…nor are they something he refuses without trying.

On this snowy evening, I am going to bake some pork chops and make a pasta dish.  And the kid who now eats spinach, broccoli, carrots, pumpkin, cauliflower, etc. will be trying (drumroll, please) green peas…  These have been a love/hate relationship until now, but I intend to change that (or at least TRY to) this evening.

Wish me luck.  My garden hinges on a lot of these little experiments of mine…

And I am SO looking forward to a garden this year.  It is what propels me forward through the snow and cold and misery.  (Well, that and reminding myself of Shackleton, Wilson, Bowers, Oates and Scott…and then watching Alive…at least, as we’ve been reminding ourselves, we are not at 11,000 feet above sea level in the Andes, living in a crashed plane…)

Off to the kitchen…


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