Friday Night Date

Me, eight-year-old, root beer, wine, mac-n-cheese with complimentary peas, kimchee cauliflower, popcorn, and the Duke.

Right about perfect.

Two Books, Two Pictures

Yay! It's finally spring and my CSA is delivering again.

I am making a soup from the oyster mushrooms tonight (and a kale and baby mizuna salad--baby mizuna not shown). These absolutely gorgeous mushrooms makes me think of a rainy San Francisco morning, walking through a bedraggled farmers' market in the financial district. Shining bright yellow through the wet grey were a bunch of yellow oyster mushrooms as if the earth had actually sprouted the missing sunshine. An impulse purchase of these mushrooms left me holding a soggy paper bag and munching on a piece of Northern California turf while walking up to Caffe Trieste in North Beach. The mushroom's earthy smoke flavor perfectly complemented my coffee.

It was indeed never a waste of life.

(The book is one of my 2011 reads. It is very good scifi/post apocalyptic reading. I will be sending it to my Australia wife shortly).

This picture is for @coldfuture. He is teaching me the name of the wind.

I thought something as rare as fantasy that covers the big questions of life (such as when truth can be as damaging as a lie and how to achieve the ability to do things simply because they are right no matter what they are) should be paired with something as incongruous as sparkling wine in a juice can with a kicky pink straw.

'nuff said.

(okay, so it is actually three books)

Quality Time

Small son goes into the bathroom. He's there a suspicious amount of time. I wander in to see him sitting on the pot with the empty dispenser of Kandoo in his hands. He's staring intently at the open lid. I assess the situation and assume

a) (correctly) he's out of wipes
b) (incorrectly) that he needs more and wants me to finish wiping him.

He's really too old for that, and we both know it. But sometimes the mom thing of a toddler still kicks in and I just act. Often, much to his and my embarrassment.

All business, I grab a refill of Kandoo, take the Kandoo dispenser out of his hands, bend him over, and do a quick and unnecessary wipe.

"MOM!!!" He shrieks. "You just interrupted my Internet browsing! You took away my computer and now I lost my web page."

Apparently, he was done with the actual cleaning post poo part and was using his "quality time" on the pot to check his Twitter on his Kandoo laptop.

It's started. Be suspicious of every Tweet from Tinyman from now on.