Pink Prickly Pear

Temporarily took down my links while I figure out a weird glitch!

Sigh.  Technology.  Really doesn't make my life easier...

EDITED TO ADD: Oh. Looks like I just needed to know how to count.  To fourteen. 

Tent's so big in your pants, huh?

Well, Peaches, we've got one in our living room.

Anything's a plaything.

 

Things I suppose I might have expected from chronic sleep deprivation.

1. Obviously, feeling tired.

2. Forgetting the words for...things.  Everything?  The number of times I say, "I just need to pick up that...aw, shit...the..uh, thingy!  You know what I mean!" is staggering.  What's interesting is it isn't that I've just forgotten what it was I wanted - I can remember the thing, can picture it in my head, can describe it (big fluffy thing, need it to dry off with after my shower!), but just can't remember the word.  Also, I've noticed that adults happily supply me with the right word, or are happy to guess, but children?  Children just stand and stare at me and wonder how I could have gotten so big, but remained so ill informed.

3. Also - forgetting people's names.  I am usually pretty good with names, even more so with faces.  The other day, we were at the park and I just could not for life of me remember this one woman's name.  I've known her for at least six months, have had several conversations with her, consider it a budding friendship, etc. but all day I just could not pull up her name.  It would have been totally embarrassing to ask someone, although hey lookie, I'm embarrassing myself now, aren't I? 

I know we all have times when a word, or a name is temporarily irretrievable, but I find it lasts longer.  For example, I've been intermittently trying to remember the name of our property manager, because I need to call and ask her a question.  It's nothing particularly pressing, but it's been about two weeks now, and her name just isn't coming to me.  I'm sure her number is in my contact list on my phone, so it's not a totally lost cause, but what the heck? 

4.  While I'm blaming my lack of sleep, I'm going to go ahead and chalk up the hideous state of my skin at the moment to chronic sleep deprivation. 

5.  Impatience.  Ha ha.  Actually to be honest, let's call it "quick to enrage"...and it is a quickness to rageful feelings about the oddest assortment of things!  Sort of like Road Rage (although interestingly enough, I haven't experienced any of that), but Junk Mail Rage and Goddamn It SpellCheck, I Know That Word Already Rage and Why Isn't That Book At The Library Rage and Why Does My Neighbor's Dog Always Have To Wander Right Up To My Door And Make My Dog Crazy Rage.  I suppose I have temporarily lost the ability to let the very smallest of things roll off my back, which really doesn't say much for anything bigger than the very smallest of things ie. everything else.

6.  Being a complete and total conversational dud.  I just lack the energy.  I won't remember what you said anyway, and I certainly won't remember what I started to tell you...

Oh.  I've gone and made it sound dire...  I do get some sleep.  Some mornings, I get to sleep in a little (if I'm able to fall back asleep) and I often fall asleep when I'm putting the boy to bed in the evening, but I don't think I've slept more than three hours at a stretch in over a year.  I do sleep, a bit, but it isn't the stuff dreams are made of.

Spring cleaning (except it's not Spring and I'm pretty sure I won't get dusty)

Time to fix links, reorganize my sidebars, etc.  I'd love to do a custom design for my blog, but haven't the foggiest about how to go about it, nor do I really have the time to tweak.  A general tidy will have to suffice.

I don't want to offend anyone by removing links, but some of you have added password protection to your blogs, and I assume this means you don't want to be stumbled upon by my tiny readership.  Some of you haven't updated in an age and have mentioned you are ready to let it die.  If I'm wrong, please let me know, and I'll happily add you back.

Dear East Coast Relatives,

The change to Daylight Savings Time confuses me sometimes too!

Just remember, we all fell back, so we're still 3 hours behind you.  Which means that 7:24 is still too early to call, even if your morning feels well underway at almost half past ten!

Cheerio!

Triple P

P.S.  I've had my coffee now, so feel free to give me a ring!

Add "tenacious" to the list of adjectives one might use when describing our boy.

 

So remember how proud I was yesterday morning about hiding the fireplace from D'anjou?

Like he was going to forget about it or something?  The fireplace, and its mysterious disappearance was the topic of discussion all. day. long.  Lots of indignant pointing and "B'why?"s.  Lots of clambering up onto the hearth and attempting to pry the cover off.  Lots of resigned waves and "bye-bye"s, followed by fierce bouts of strengthened resolve and further attempts to free his poor imprisoned play area.

Mr. Pear reckons we should just clean out the fireplace this weekend so he can play in it.

I was thinking it might be nice to actually have a fire in it sometime.

Yay/Boo: The inmates are running the asylum version.

Yay: My "picky eater" two fistin' pears.  

Yay:  The other one.  Crazy.  But happy!  So happy!  Cannot squelch her joy!

Boo: The fireplace is not a great place to play (purely from the perspective of the mother and family laundress).

Yay: The removable top of my sewing table is the perfect size to hide the fireplace!

Boo:  Uh, sewing table?!?!?  No sewing table.  No sewing table.  No sewing table.  No sewing table.  I am gutted.

Related boo:  The underside of a workbench is not the most attractive addition to our decor. 

Yay:  Spaghetti carbonara with organic bacon for dinner last night.  And leftovers for lunch.  It's the little things, isn't it?

Yay: Reading Watership Down aloud with the whole family.

Possible impending Boo: Claustrophobic nightmares (mine - not the kids, they are as tough as nails) brought on by sympathizing with the plight of anthropomorphic rabbits.

I don't know why I bother keeping my old cookbooks around.

90% of the time, I just type in my ingredients and "recipe" into Google and see what comes up.  Or I'll have an idea about something I think will go well together and so I type the combination in just to see if it's been done, or what else might make it taste less "thrown together".

So today I have a couple of rotten pumpkins, some leftover Quinoa and a hankering for rice pudding.  I'm thinking of simmering it in a little whole milk with some flaked almonds and a bit of cardamom, but it never hurts to see what my other options are.

I prefer recipe sites with reviews.  Sometimes the recipe will get a bad rating, but reviewers will post substitutions or other tips for tweaking it.  Sometimes the reviewers are of no help whatsoever, but apparently feel the need to comment anyway:

This was fine, but not great. I used applesauce instead of bananas, and fat free milk with a little canola oil instead of whole milk, which seemed to work. Maybe it would have been better if I followed the recipe exactly, though.

I don't know.  Might as well say, "Well, I made chocolate pudding instead, but I'm still going to give this recipe a low rating".

For the record, everyone else gave the recipe excellent marks.  I'll let you know how mine turns out.

If I don't remove those rotting pumpkins from the front porch...

Having run out of onions is putting a massive kink in my plan to "get a jump on the jump on the week's cooking".

I suppose eating toast and updating my blog is having just as great an impact.  As did knitting yet another pair of fingerless gloves and watching Transformers last night.

I'm just going to go where my scattered brain takes me this morning.

Regarding Transformers,  I don't get the appeal of Shia LaBeouf.  Big robot cars are okay, I guess, except I sometimes feel like the action in action films happens literally too fast for my eyes to keep up with what's going on.  This is probably not true for kids raised on first person shooter games.

Regarding first person shooter games - once upon a time, I played Descent until I threw up from motion sickness.

Somewhat related to Transformers:  Only because it was yet another movie we watched that I know I wouldn't have picked out on my own, that Hannah Montana Hoedown is pretty catchy.

With regard to knitting:  I have reached the point, nine years into it, where I feel confident I can do pretty much anything.  I have to mention this, because I'm feeling particularly inept at various other endeavors (like parenting more than one child and spelling "endeavors" correctly) lately.

I think I know what 18 to 34 year old men want.

What's with the little dashboard merkin for the Nissan Cube?

I'm pretty sure they held focus group after focus group after focus group for this odd little car and yet...the dashboard merkin?  It's still there.

You know why?

Because heterosexual men like real women.  And real women don't look like prepubescent little girls down there.

I'm not saying it's okay to look like you're packing a tarantula in your bikini bottom (no need to terrify the kiddies at the local beach or pool), but you can stop with the painful trips to the salon. 

Focus grouped men have spoken.  They don't want it to be all smooth, all the time.  They want a little furry bit right in the middle.  And ladies, if you're not going to give them what they want?  This desire is going to rear its head in unexpected places, like the middle of the dashboard of your car .

So I hereby declare the bikini wax out.