Foodie Me

We're on vacation, but I got tagged by Jen (http://lettersabouteve.blogspot.com/), so I am stopping the nonstop excitement to tagalong.

1. Link to the person who tagged you
2. List where you are
3. List your 5 favorite local restaurants
4. Tag 5 more people

I live in Indianapolis IN

Restaurants:

1. Rathskellar on Mass(achussetts) Ave. This German restaurant and Biergarten is really wonderful, and always reminds me of Vienna, very early 20th Century Germanish decor and divine food. Too bad we haven't gone back there since Arabella embarrassed us so badly that I fear we may not be welcome back ...

2. Santorini in Fountain Square. We have visited this place so many times in the past 4 years that Jeanette thinks we're family. When Arabella was at the screaming-in-restaurants phase, Jeanette would just carry her around the restaurant introducing her to Taki, staff, patrons, and ganache cake, while mommy and daddy ate in peace. What service. And it's some of the best Greek cooking outside of Greece.

3. PF Changs. Sadly, this is the best Chinese food in Indianapolis. It's a chain, but it is decent enough to satisfy my occasional urges.

4. Dick's BBQ. Dick does Texas style BBQ, which means beef. Cow. As in Brisket. If you don't know Texas BBQ, go to Dick's and get a pound of brisket and some sides, put it on some bread and have a sandwich. This may seem simple, but its rare for Yankees to 'get' Texas BBQ.

5. Sakura. Sushi. When the Bean is born I am planning to go out for sushi and sake at Sakura. Nuff said.

I'm sorry Jen, but I am not tagging anyone. You're the only person I would ever dare to tag! Pictures of vacation sometime next week.

Clay, not just for kids

Yesterday I invited the children from Arabella's preschool class, and their parents, over for a clay play day. It was, I think, a hit. Although S- fell off the swing three times (she hasn't quite grasped the importance of holding on) and as she was leaving cut her heel, there were no other casualties. And A-'s daddy had such a good time I asked if I needed to schedule a parents clay day. The kids mostly poked the clay and I showed the parents how to cut the clay into tiles or make them into little trays. And then the kids ran around the backyard while we parents hung out in the shade and continued playing with clay. It was great.

Not Uber Alles

M says I have no sense of humor. He doesn't really mean that, but after all these years its the principle of the thing for him to say it.

He also says that my Polish-style translation of Uber Alles into overalls is just plain wrong. I thought it was pretty funny. I may start calling them my Uber Alles all the time.

But the overalls turned up, accidentally mixed up with non-maternity wear, thank you Jen for your concern. Now I have to find my cell phone, last years tax return, the mirror clips M custom-made for me, and my brain. Has anyone seen it?

Denim Uber Alles

When I was in grad school I briefly lived in a two-bedroom apartment with Kip & Dave. This "security" apartment building was on the very narrow border between the 'good' part of Long Beach and the beginning-to-get-really-sucky part of Long Beach. It might have been better had we lived in the bad part of town. The first night there, Dave's car stereo was liberated. Within a month we had discovered the secret to the men hanging out in the back alley carport -- there was a homeless prostitute doing business out of a storage space in the carport. I never saw her, but Dave did, and said "you know how there are high-class ho's, and low-class ho's? Well this was a no-class ho." The last straw for the three of us was the day that Kip was home alone (I was in New Orleans meeting my future husband, Dave was at school), and someone tried to break into the apartment. Through my bedroom window. We moved out within a month and I went on to live in the most wonderful but tiniest studio apartment, near the beach, near the bar, and safe.

Those were the bad things that happened. Of the kinda annoying things that also contributed to apartment hunting less than 2 months after we moved in there were the local Harley riders roaring down the alley under our bedroom windows at all hours, the neighbor who woke up Kip & Dave at 6 am every day with his version of Barry White songs in the shower, and the laundry room incident.

I had a pair of overalls I had bought in SF at some teenybopper shop, for $10, and I loved them. Really really really really loved them. And someone stole them out of the dryer in the locked laundry room in the "security" building. I know they went in the washer, I saw them go in the dryer, I went back after an hour, took my clean laundry upstairs, and ... they were gone.

Today, 13 years later, I am getting dressed and I can't find my maternity overalls. My mother ordered them from Old Navy when I was pregnant with Arabella, but they didn't fit. It wasn't my belly, it was my bottom that was too large. They led to me wonder aloud why maternity clothes didn't get roomy in the butt as well as the belly. Amazingly, they fit me this pregnancy. Apparently my behind has gotten smaller while the weight has all concentrated in the front. I thought they would be perfect for teaching ceramics, no hoisting my pants up every time I bend over a wheel (and I do alot of bending over wheels). But they are gone. I thought maybe M had them (by accident, of course. I can't even imagine what my manly man would look like in maternity overalls that fit a person nearly a foot shorter than him) -- he says no. Arabella wouldn't have run off with them ... would she? And the cat would just lay on them, not hide them. They're not in the laundry room, not in the drawer, not in the clean clothes mound eating my cedar chest.

What is the problem with me and overalls?

Checkup time!

Arabella is declared perfect, at least by her doctor. She is 95th percentile on height, 50th percentile on weight, which is a relief, since she looks so skinny, we thought she might be too thin. I know many parents would love to have the problem of worrying that their preschooler is too thin, but it gets frustrating to try to find pants that fit. And I don't just mean are a bit short in the leg, but actually fall off her skinny little bum. She can (and does) wear pants for 18 month olds, but they are about knee length. She can wear size 6 dresses but they look weirdly w i d e. Like those ads for Jenny Craig with the lady wearing her size 88 dress over her current size 12 body. Good thing she likes dresses, I just buy them large.

Indiana is having a drought. I didn't know that the midwest has droughts -- my mass-mediated perception of the area was tornados and floods, but this is news to me. The lawns look dry, and our backyard has a crunchy-ness I associate more with August than mid-June. I have been watering my tomatoes and other fruit and flower bearing plants in defiance of the lawn watering "request," but I have at least the water-sense (honed by years of living in Southern California) to water at dusk, so that the water soaks in rather than evaporates. And I am not using a sprinkler at all. M has been using the water from the dehumidifier in the basement to water the baby trees (aka "sticks"), too bad we can't find some easier way of getting the water from our basement into the flower beds.

And on knitting I am onto the last of the cotton baby sweater extravaganza (although I may need to make more, as I have plenty of lime green cotton-ease), and this is the gold and black for the Steelers fans in our friend-clan. Little William will be the trendsetter for baby Pittsburgh fans. Next will be making a Debbie Bliss merino wool baby sweater for the Bean in soft lavender. I actually had someone who thought, when I told her the black & gold sweater was the 5th one I was making this season, that I was making them ALL for my own baby. I'm not that obsessive or greedy. Really I'm not.

Why I hate the mall

When I last visited the OB she suggested that I wear a support belt for my aching belly, due to the stretching round ligaments. The place to get these is apparently any maternity store, and those are (nearly) all in malls. So today I bundled Arabella into the car and we drove ("why is it taking so long?") to the mall. I got my belly support belt, and signed A up for some mall kid club ($5, and today we got free mini take-home-and-bake pizza, cookie, 2 videos, a kiddie baking kit, and a $5 off coupon for Build a Bear, seemed like a reasonable deal). And as we were heading out, A spotted the requisite mall playground, and insisted we stop awhile.

There were only about 5 other children there, and Arabella was one of the youngest. They were rambunctious kids, but happy and having a good time. Araeblla's favorite thing, besides running in circles and being a big goober, was sitting on the weird cow (jumping over an even weirder moon, it's flat on the ground). She really liked climbing up so she was sitting on the cows head. And while she is hoisting herself up onto the cows head for the bazillionth time, the little boy who was the contemporary sitter on the cow shoved her off. This was not an 'oops' moment, he pried her off the cows head with both hands and shoved her to the padded and carpeted floor, a drop of about 3 feet. Arabella cried, and I reminded her to tell him "don't push me, that's not nice", while I scanned the parents present for the mother of this miscreant, who seemed totally oblivious. The kid was most certainly younger than A (probably in the 2 1/2 - 3 yo range, and as such probably had no idea that he was hurting her), but I would guess he outweighed her by at least 5 pounds. I wanted to tell A not to play with the littel jerk, but my kid is smart, and I saw her go around him several times rather than play in his vicinity.

Not 3 minutes later, a kid older and bigger than Arabella shoved the little miscreant of the cow episode down the 2 foot long slide (Up the stairs, down the slide not being in his understanding). He was not hurt, but the startlement made him cry, and the mother (I had been right about which mother) leaped to her feet and chewed out the kid who pushed her darling little hellion.

I decided it was time to go. Before I started telling this woman what a crappy parent she is, and what an ass her child is going to grow up to be.

I've been tagged!

Thanks Jen. How country are you?

1. Have you ever gone muddin'? no, WTHeck is muddin'?

2. Have you ever lived on a dirt/gravel road? yes.

3. Ever been swimming in a lake or river? yes, but never liked it.

4. Ever been to a bonfire party? no, but does pit-firing count? I don't think it does, but if so, then, yes. Dig a trench 30' long, 4 ' wide and 4' deep, fill with ceramics, wood and chemicals, and light on fire. Then hang around and drink and eat while it burns.

5. Have you ever driven a tractor? yes.

6. Have you ever been on a horse? yes, even my own horse.

7. Ford or Chevy? Ford.

8. Kissed someone in a pick up? Surely, but I've had that pickup a really long time.

9. Whats your favorite country song? Crazy by Patsy Cline.

10. Ever done 90 miles per hour down a dirt road? No.

11. Worked / Lived on a farm? yes.

12. Been to a rodeo?no, but I've been to the Tijuana bullfights.

13. Do you own cowboy boots? No

14. Do you have a cowboy hat? no, but I would like one.

15. Have you ever said git r done? ugh, no.

16. Country skyline or a city skyline? Do I have to choose?

17. Can you name a rodeo star? The only rodeo rider I have ever known by name, my uncle Weston Charles "Sonny" George, former bull rider.

18. Do you think tractors are sexy? NO, but I did make a mug with a tractor on it.

19. Ever rode a 4-wheeler? No.

20. Are you from the country?Kinda.

21. If so, are you proud of it? Kinda

22. Gone hunting? Yes

23. Gone fishing? Yes

24. Is your heart in dixie? I suppose so, Texas and New Orleans count, right?

25. Been on a hay ride? Yes

26. Have you ever line danced? Once, they made me quit because I was so bad.

27. Camped under the stars? Yes, for ceramic causes only.

28. Have you ever been cow tippin? No, how mean.

29. Do you drive a pick up truck? Not as often as I would like, seeing how it's MY truck.

30. Fell asleep in a hay stack? No.

31. Own a pair of overalls? Yes, maternity and non-maternity.

32. Drank Moonshine? Yes, but it was Arab moonshine, aka sadiki. Keep away from that stuff, it will roast your brain.

33. Include the word "yonder" in your daily vocabulary no.

34. Ever shoveled manure? no, but I've distributed hay.

35. Milked a cow? no

36. Plucked a chicken?no, but yes to turkey.

37. Been to a race? horses only, no cars.

38. Know all the words to at least one David Allen Coe song? Who?

39.Have you ever made out in a back of a pick-up? If I did, I don't remember it .... mmm, maybe?

So does all this make me country? I guess, as always, I'm about half city (Los Angeles, San Francisco, London, New Orleans) and half country (rural Texas, rural San Diego), and now I am in a city that doens't realize it's city (Indianapolis)

Some days I feel really cool

Last night was my second summer class, and after warning my students that wheel throwing is hard and they will probably not have anything to show at the end of class, nearly every one of them had something to show at the end of class. I think this was due to lots of hands on help from myself and Ryan. As I've had students that just didn't get it no matter how many times I showed them or grabbed their hands, but after three weeks would come in and say some student from another class showed them a trick that worked (and is always something I know I showed them four or five times), I know its really some ineffable quality that brings this together. But it's moments like this that I really want some administrator / recruiter from an art dept. to walk through and say "damn! this is their first time on a wheel? You are some great teacher!" It has only once happened that way, and that's a whole other story.

So the students think I'm a bit nuts, and are impressed that even though I am shaped like a watermelon I can still center clay while leaning over a student from the side / shoulder. Maybe thats the trick -- if I can do this while pregnant, they can do it too. I do remind them that I have been doing this for 20 years (OMG, that's scary, but truly, my first college wheel-throwing class was in 1987), and when they have been doing it that long it will be easy for them too.

But I'm paying today. My upper thighs are sore and I am waddling crazily.

Busy having fun

I feel perpetually behind on everything. Yesterday was the unofficial catch-up-on-fun day for the family. I took Arabella to swim class, where she revelled in her expertise at twirling her arms around and splashing water on the teacher, came home for a brief lunch, took her to the neighbors house for the afternoon of play with her bud, and then Daddy and Mommy headed off to a rare and gleeful afternoon of shopping and movie. (We saw Pirates of the Caribbean, I liked it as well as the first, but make sure to stay through the credits for a little tidbit at the end. Orlando Bloom looks really delicious, which is balanced by Keira Knightley looking absolutely stunning as a Chinese pirate lord). When the movie ended we dashed home, fetched Arabella and tried to make the house presentable enough to have J- and her family over for pizza. After they had left and Arabella was in bed, I was so tired I was falling asleep at 9:30 pm.

On Friday, the cat was howling at the backdoor (wanting to go out), and Arabella yelled "Put a fork in it!" We realized she got this from Daddy saying "put a cork in it" whenever the cat is complaining, but A doens't know what a cork is, so she said fork.

The news is interfering with my knitting

As if you hadn't heard enough b.s. in the misinformation media about a rich and brainless woman with a great publicist, I give you a new rhyme for remembering your knitting steps:

Paris Hilton went to prison (insert right needle into loop on left needle)

to wear a little noose. (wrap yarn around right needle)

She told the D.A. "make it go away" (pull new loop through left needle loop)

and now she's on the loose. (remove loop from left needle, leaving a loop on right needle)

This is what you get for my 2 semesters of poetry writing.

More pics of Texas

Yesterday the blog wouldn't let me keep uploading more pics, so I had to wait to post a few more. There are still pics of our trip to Texas.



Family. From left to right: Uncle Sonny, Mimi (my grandmother), Arabella, and myself. I think we got Sonny and Mimi hooked on SpongeBob, the first episode we watched had Sandy the Squirrel (who is also from Texas) feeling homesick and the residents of Bikini Bottom trying to cheer her up in inane ways. Mimi and Sonny are probably going to continue watching just in the hopes of catching sight of Sandy again.



Arabella picking flowers and giving me her best "smile". I think she is holding one of the last Indian Paintbrushes of the season. Arabella seemed to think her reason for going to Texas was to pick flowers.




On the train at Breckenridge Park. This is one of my favorite little zoo trains, it goes all through the park, including stopping at the Witte Museum and the Sunken Gardens. It does not actually enter the zoo, but I just like seeing the submerged roads and park land. Sometimes you even see some wildlife. Arabella liked it too.

Lazy Mommy gets pics online

We went to Texas, Arabella and I. She really enjoyed the farm.



She got to pet Ruby, Uncle Sonny's retired Quarter Horse brood mare. Ruby really seemed to take to Arabella, once she got over her indignation that we had not brought FOOD.



She got to play with her cousins. This is a picture with Sarah and Elizabeth, who had a great time dressing Arabella like a giant doll.



The only picture I got with Arabella and Mimi (my grandmother) where Mimi is not trying to tell Arabella to sit still. Mimi had a hard time dealing with Arabella's uncombed hair and unmatched outfits. I said I have bigger battles to fret over. Besides, her hair looks the same whether you brush it or not.



After visiting the farm we went to stay a few days with my Dad (aka Grumpy), and visited the San Antonio Zoo. This is Arabella demonstrating her wingspan against the South American Condor on display in the cage behind her. Grumpy is "holding the tip of her wing". More pics tomorrow.

Learning Patience

It is open as to whether it is Arabella or I who is learning more patience.

Yesterday was a nealry perfect day. Arabella finally started swim class, in the very cold pool at the local park. There happened to be two other mothers who I know from teh preschool whose children were also in class, and we sat and kibbutzed while the kids paddled and jumped and blew bubbles. Eventually Arabella came back to me wet and shivering and with blue lips, and told me how she is loving swimming. We got ice cream from the vending machine. It gave me 3 fudge bars for the price of one. When I told the girl at the front desk, she said "congratulations". So I gave away the two extras.

We walked the 50 yards to the playground (yesterday was also the playdate for Arabella's preschool) and met up with her two best buddies from class, A-and S-, and the 3 girls had a wonderful time while Grandma B and S's mommy and I watched. I saw long legs tumbling down the hill, and said, there goes Bella. A moment later her bud's followed, and we stood at the edge of the playground while they gamboled on the soccer field. A moment later, all three girls turned back to us and began walking up the hill, all holding hands. S's mom sighed and said, I wish I had a camera. And we all just watched in silence.

It was so beautiful.

ps, Yes, thank you Jen, I got the box, its amazing how much you can get into a tiny box. I wore the green top to church on Sunday, and it really enhances the big ol' belly. On the down side, I think the bosom is a little ... loose ... for me. I can't wait to dress the Bean in the lovely outfits you sent ...

Classy

Yesterday:

My summer program starts today, and I have 13 students (12 is considered full but there was a miscommunication, and ... well, I got extra). Another class offered at the same time, covering virtually the same material, I would guess, was cancelled for only having 3 students. I think my "popularity" may have something to do with my class description using the word fun and inviting people who have never touched clay to have some (fun). So I am going to be cutting some things out, since I find that the bigger the class the slower it moves.

Yesterday's class went quite well, I felt, and one student didn't show, so that was fine. I has 12 students plus a man named Ryan (who should have been teaching this summer, but whose class didn't fill) as my assistant. Although my strong independent streak says I don't need no stinkin' assistant, I am grateful to have someone carry boxes of clay for all the students. My belly is quite large. In fact, when Annie (in Education) asked how I was going to throw pots on the wheel with the pregnant belly, I said "I just lean into the clay with it, we're going to be making lots of bowls." She gave me that same look Michael gives me when I make what he considers a bad joke.

I think Ryan is happy to be helping out in one way, this would have been his first class, at this venue, and so he took notes of what I said (how embarassing).

I had planned out so carefully Arabella's summer schedule of activities -- swimming and ballet -- to fit around my OB appointments and other commitments, so I have been REALLY ANNOYED to have gotten calls this week telling me first that the pool was still being fixed, so Monday's first day of swimming was cancelled, then that Tuesday was cancelled due to rain (outdoor pool), then that the Ballet class MIGHT get cancelled due to lack of interest and would she be interested in Cheer Camp instead? The only CHEER I want is the kind that comes in a bottle, but I don't think they are handing out Prozac to the mommies. I think Arabella thinks I may be having her on about swim class, since I have twice had to tell her, no, no swim class today, even though I told you we would. She has her swimsuit on, lets see how it goes. Due to their rescheduling I have already had to once reschedule my OB appointment for this week, since I knew there was no way to get Arabella out of the pool, dried and changed, and drive the 5 miles to the OB's office in under 15 minutes. Now with trying to reschedule Ballet, I may have to reschedule my OB appointment again. I'm sure they will not be amused. Good thing I am healthy as a horse ... um, brood mare.

I know it is my own childhood issues that make me really angry when things outside my control lead me to disappoint my daughter, and I try very hard not to confuse or disappoint her with raised hopes, but this really burns me anyway.