MonkeyPants

New Baby Girl!

I am very pleased to announce that Gen and Ryan have a new baby girl.

Welcome to the world, Imogen Bronwyn.

Mostly Moved.

While the number of boxes steadily decreases in my new living room, more and more things now have a proper place here. Of course, we didn’t have internet until yesterday and (I’m kind of ashamed to admit) that makes it feel like home.

The move itself was hot and dusty. Mad props to John for contributing the sweat of his brow and doing some heavy lifting. I am no shrinking violet, but I’m not He-Man, either. I’m kind of embarassed that I own things I can’t lift. But what do you do with a century-old sideboard? You kind of have to keep it, right? Well, you do if you’re me, anyhow. And you have strong friends, for when you have to move.

I’m particularly pleased with the position of my desk. As I type, I look up and see an overgrown backyard, full of both plants I know and plants I want to get to know. There’s even a treehouse!  I am full of plans for the garden: Maybe a clematis here, a raised bed for tomatoes there. This garden needs someone to care for it. That someone can be me. I might have to zip to the garden store for some herbs.
Speaking of herbs, I love cooking in this kitchen! We have a cherry-red garbage can from the 50’s that belonged to my current landlord’s father. I especially like how it looks next to the gleaming white expanse of 21st Century state-of-the-art fridge. Neither garbage can nor fridge is exactly space-efficient, but they look cool, especially together.

I am in full nesting mode. I couldn’t be happier.

Spaghetti, Western Style.

Yesterday I did some tutoring I’ve never done before.

I gave a cooking lesson.

Young Mi mentioned last week that her daughters love spaghetti, but that she didn’t know how to make it. Not surprising, really. She is a working mother who had housekeepers in Korea. Now that she’s an enforced Laydee of Leisure here, she’s going nuts, so she is learning to cook.

I brought all the ingredients over and we went through the steps in the recipe, writing it down. I’ve never written down a spaghetti sauce recipe, and I kept correcting myself with all the little steps, like turning the heat down. For me, it’s automatic.

We looked at all the ingredients. Young Mi’s translator didn’t have ‘oregano’, so I got her to smell it, to see what it was. Oregano smells like oregano, right? Not if you’ve never smelled it before. I could see her thinking, “This must be a delicacy.” Because Korean recipes, a few of which she knows, don’t really use the stuff.

Anyway, Young Mi and her husband worked together in the kitchen under my direction until the pot was simmering happily.

“You have lunch here?” Hong suggested. he pointed to the pot.
I shook my head. “This is for dinner. You have to cook it for an hour at least. Two is better. Three or four is best.” I pointed to the pot. “This is for dinner with you and your daughters.”

I really hope it turned out well.