Aubergine

Commas, commas, everywhere

In high school I was taught this rule: Put a comma where there would be a natural pause in speech.  Maybe I write unusually long sentences or pause uncommonly often when I talk because apparently I use too many commas.

My first semester of grad school I struggled with feelings of inadequacy next to the other MBA candidates.  I was sure they'd made a mistake in letting me in to the program. Sure, I had been a manager for a number of years already but I didn't know how to balance a budget, I hated speaking in front of people, I had nil spreadsheet skills and a major math phobia.  But, I thought, at least I could write.  I might struggle with the quantitative classes, but I'd nail the essay assignments. 

But when I got back my first essay I had only scored a B-.  I am not a B student.  I don't get Bs.  Maybe occasionally in math classes but not in writing classes.  I was devastated. When I finally got up the courage to read the instructor's feedback, I discovered that it was not the writing that I had been dinged on but the punctuation.  I had used too many commas. So before turning in the next essay assignment I edited out half of the commas after I wrote it.  That one got an A.

I recently found a blog article outlining proper usage of commas.  It was really helpful to read, though I think I already correctly use commas in most of the cases she outlines.  Where I struggle with them is in the middle of sentences.  Not to set off clauses - I can do that - but where I want to let the reader take a pause.  I want my readers to meander through my words. Stop and smell the roses. Take a rest and ponder that last bit.  Let it settle before moving on to the rest of the sentence.  Apparently.  Because I put commas everywhere.  I've already gone back through this post and removed more than half of them but I'm sure I still have a few incorrect commas littering these paragraphs like sticky cherry blossom petals after a spring rain.  Once they fall, they are so hard to collect.  See, there's one right there.

From my kitchen: pancakes

Sometimes, just occasionally, I have a craving for pancakes.  Though not a particularly complicated thing to make, I so rarely make them.  Why is that?  

When I was a kid, my mom was the pancake maker.  My dad made waffles.  Mom never made waffles that I recall, and Dad never made pancakes.  The pancakes of my childhood had weight.  Literally.  I remember them thunking on to my plate.  They were hearty and healthy, and filled my belly solidly and I could just feel them sticking to my ribs, as the saying goes.  Mom probably made them with whole wheat flour, and even a slather of butter and real maple syrup really never turned them into a treat - they were always healthy.

Those are  not the pancakes I crave (sorry, Mom).  I crave the sourdough pancakes they used to serve at an earlier incarnation of the Davenport Cash Store, but no more.  I crave the eggy, rich pancakes I get at the French bakery near my house on lazy Sunday mornings (they make their own yogurt and an order of pancakes with a bowl of yogurt  laced with maple syrup will hold me happily sated until late afternoon). I crave the puffy baked affair that I used to sneak out of the office to go eat with my friend Erik that I contest is not really a pancake at all, more like a huge sweet popover that you have to eat immediately out of the oven before it falls.  We tried cooking one at my house once and got batter all over the inside of the oven.  After that we went back to the restaurant down the street from our office when we had to have that particular treat. And although I had forgotten them until I was searching for these recipes to share, I once had ricotta-based pancakes at a bed and breakfast that were out of this world.

I have a bottle of real maple syrup in my fridge and I'm going to start making pancakes this fall.  I'm going to be the pancake-making mom in this house.  Want to join me?  Here are some that I want to try:

Sourdough Buckwheat Pancakes

Lemon Ricotta Pancakes

Swedish Apple Pancakes (popover things)

Thin eggy pancakes

Thick and Fluffy Pumpkin Pancakes

 

 

Link Love: October 19

{Writing}

• Creativity? Train Your Brain to be an Idea-Generating machine [Write to Done]
• How To Write a Personal Essay [Orato]
• Tips For Writing What You Know [The Write One Blog] 
• How To Write Daily [Writing Spirit] 
• How To Write Effortlessly [Helium]
• Tips For Writing A Personal Essay [Poynter]

{Social Media}

• How To Use Stumbleupon [Eli Rose]
• SEO Basics [Jeff Goins, Writer]
• How To Use Twitter as a Networking Resource [Social Media Today]

 

I want to remember this

I want to remember how soft the palms of your hands are, how soft the soles of your feet. I want to remember the butterfly touch of your warm palm skimming my skin as you nurse.  I want to remember how had your father's dark curly hair when you were placed, wet and solemn, on my exhausted belly.  I want to remember how you looked up at me with eyes that were completely your own, a blue that came from neither me nor him.

I want to remember how we both shed our baby hair at the same time, you and I, when you were four months old.  You lost all that dark hair and I lost all the hair that my body had grown and saved for all those months of pregnancy.  The house and the bed were covered with those strands for weeks, to the point where I was repulsed by it. I want to remember how, 4 days before your 8 month birthday, we both have half an inch of peach fuzz that has grown back in. Your hair is light now, honey blonde with a touch of strawberry in the right light, and straight.  Mine is curlier than it was before. Your eyes are still your own.

I want to remember that particular tug on my nipple when you latch on to nurse.  It is primal, not sexual.  I could not imagine, before, how anyone sucking on my nipple could not be sexual. I want to remember how little of this I imagined before you were born and how much of what I imagined was wrong.  I want to remember how my nipples turned leathery and I want to remember that once they used to be sensitive and someday they will be again. I want to remember how, when I'm putting you to bed at night, I'm so often thinking beyond the room while I am lying next to you - things I want to get done, things I want to write about, prioritizing the tasks I'll do while you sleep to best optimize my time.  But late in the evening when I have wound down my brain, accomplished most of my list, I picture your warm little body soft and finally still in sleep, and all I want is to tuck myself in next to you and listen to you breathe.

I want to remember the way you fell asleep for your nap this afternoon, nursing in bed, tucked in close with your head in the crook of my elbow and one socked foot flung up on my belly.  I want to remember the way you fit in my lap because you almost don't already.  I want to remember how I feel nostalgic already for the tiny tiny you, while also so excited and proud of every milestone and accomplishment you make.

I want to remember the way you are always happy to see me when you wake up - a surprise that never gets old.  I want to remember how, when you wake in the morning between us you reach out to touch his face and smile when he opens his eyes.  Then you turn to touch me and smile again.  I want to remember the three note song you sing to help you fall asleep.  I want to remember the sounds of you learning to use your voice, squeaks and grunts and squeals.  I want to remember the way you sounded like a pterodactyl when you were a newborn, and the peals of perfect joy.  Lately you have been making a long sound in the back of your throat that sounds like a rusty hinge and a sharp "ha" when you are trying to get someone's attention.  You make an "o" shape with your mouth when you are excited to explore something new and a closed-mouth "hrmph" when nothing much is going on.  When you are looking for the next thing you can get into.

I want to remember raspberries you make with your mouth, as punctuation, as play, on my forehead and your arm, in my face and covering me with your spit. I want to remember how you flap your arms, and have been since you were a newborn.  You flap when you are happy, or when you are frustrated, or when your hands are not dexterous enough to get the thing you are after, when you are nursing and your body is full of too much energy to be still, or when you are trying to get our attention.

I want to remember how fast you get into things and how smart your dad was to suggest setting up things for you to "get into" that are safe. Like leaving all your toys put away in your basket and letting you pull them out, or letting you find your snack box in the diaper bag all by yourself.  I want to remember how your exploration circles always return to me, and how, even when you are crawling away from me, you stop and look over your shoulder, one foot lifted in the air for balance, to make sure I'm there and am watching you.

I want to remember how proud of yourself you were when you figured out how to drink out of a sippy cup and how pride and sadness sat side by side in my lap as I watched my little baby looking like a toddler.

I want to remember how well you engage with the world, how friendly and interactive and open you are. I want to remember how you are a people-watcher already.  You target someone in a crowd and watch them until you get their attention, and then flirt with your eyes and a hint of a smile before crashing onto my chest in the classic "I'm shy!" maneuver.  I want to remember how when someone smiles at you, you light up.  And how, when you smile, you light up the room.  

I wish I was knitting

We've had a few days of rain around here and I'm missing my knitting needles.  I admit I believed that my baby would be dressed in an endless supply of hand-knit items, but in reality that hasn't happened.  The one sweater I made while I was pregnant is still too big for her and that's good because it doesn't have buttons yet.  I started a blanket for her when she was about a month old, but I stalled out at some point and it hasn't seen the outside of the project bag in a while.  I really envisioned myself knitting away while breastfeeding, but I was never able to figure out how to hold the baby and the needles at the same time, so that never happened.  Too bad, because I did spend a LOT of time breastfeeding for those first few months.  Now that she's eating real food she mostly wants to nurse at night and first thing in the  morning and  she has no patience for my milk during the day.

So I'm not knitting.  I still have a stash and a lot of projects in process, but this may be the first fall in a long time that I'm not actually knitting.  But that doesn't stop me from thinking about knitting.  So to make me feel better about getting lost on Ravelry this chilly morning, I thought I'd put together a little fantasy project list.  What I would make if I was knitting right now.  

• Lace-edged baby blanket (in progress - Ravelry link), from the book Booties, Blankets and Bears by Debbie Bliss.  In Plymoth Worsted Superwash Merino in mahogany, slate and sage (I made up those color names - I can't find the yarn tags).  
• Also in progress, Juno Regina shawl in a stunning hand-dyed silk.  Right.  Like I have the brain cells to be knitting lace. I'm in the center "simple" part of the pattern and I got lost the last time I tried to knit on it and had to rip back.
• Eyelet Yoke Cardigan, in a pretty hydrangea pink yarn I found on clearance someplace.  The pattern was chosen to coordinate with the next sweater...
• Shalom Cardigan, (in progress) with long sleeves, in bulky baby alpaca.  This is going to be the softest hug of a sweater if I ever finish it. This project is the third incarnation for this yarn and I think this was the project it was waiting for all along.  I'm having to do a lot of re-figuring of the pattern and I got stuck at the calculations for the body.  It probably isn't all that hard, I just need to sit down and deal with it.  I started this one while I was pregnant also, and imagined sitting up in the night nursing my newborn, us both wrapped in the soft soft cuddle of alpaca.  And then I realized nursing in bed was going to get us both a lot more sleep.  But now that the weather is turning cool again, I can see myself pulling this around my shoulders in the evening *before* bed.
• And over  my knees I'll have my Ripple Blanket, which I'm working in bulky instead of worsted because I thought it would go faster, but it is still taking forever.  I think I started this one in 2009 and I'm still only half-way through it.  At least it is nice and warm on my lap while I work on it.
• Chloe Sweater, pattern by Never Not Knitting (and how does she manage that with little kids?).  I have yarns in similar but not exact shades to the pattern photo. While looking for the link to that pattern, I fell for this Very Cherry dress by the same designer.
• Berry baby hat. (Ravelry link) Every baby needs one of these.
• Any of the hats from Twisted Wooly Toppers, either for me or the girl.  I'm torn between Brownie and Lollie. Though I'm not sure I could pull off Lollie's topknot.

Alright, that'e enough. I have so many more projects in process or bagged up with pattern and yarn at the ready, but this is getting depressing.

Come on, tell me what you are working on.  Or not working on and wish you were.

How I start a painting

Carefully remove my nipple from the sleeping baby's mouth.
Freeze until I am sure she's asleep.
Slowly get out of bed, hoping the bed frame doesn't creak and wake her.
Sneak down the hall, avoiding the squeeky board.
Turn on the baby monitor.
Check the time.
Empty the sink, wipe the counter.
Put away the mail.
Add a couple things to the running to-do list.
Empty the litter box.
Peek in the bedroom to make sure she's breathing.
Check the time.
Start a load of laundry.  
Put on some music.  Change my mind halfway through selecting an album because it will wake the baby.
Go in the studio.
Go back to the kitchen for the baby monitor and a glass of water.
Go in the studio. 
Pull out a photo and fight the urge to go print a better one off the computer.
Pry open the palette and check the paint.  
Toss the dry paint out and apply new colors.
Fight the urge to go vacuum. 
Check the time.
Talk back to the voice that says I'm not any good and I don't know what I'm doing and I have lots of other things that are far more important and a better use of my time. 
Go fill a jar with water and sit.
Fight the urge to go check that the baby is breathing.
Rummage around for an appropriate surface to paint on.
Resist the urge to choose something that needs a coat of gesso, thereby giving me an excuse not to start the actual painting yet.
Sit down at the easel.
Notice that the support I chose is a different aspect ratio than the photo and rummage around some more for masking tape to mask the photo to the right shape.
Listen closely to the monitor to make sure the baby's breathing.
Go get the mail.
Check the time.
Panic, because the baby's going to wake up any time now.
Sit.
Take a deep breath.
Dampen a brush and pick up some color.
Take another deep breath and let everything fall away.
Begin.

Off the bookshelf: October

I'm sad to say that I haven't finished a single book this month.  I've been busy busy busy.  At least I can tell you about what I've started.  

The People of the Book, by Geraldine Brooks

My book group's October pick.  This is the third book in a row with a past/present story structure.  How interesting.  At least this one is not about World War II, though it does span a lot of the history of Jewish persecution.  The story traces the history of a particular book, and tells the stories of the hands it has passed through.  It reminds me a bit of that book about the violin - The Red Violin?  I think it was made into a movie.  I'm enjoying this read, particularly because it is a lot lighter than the last two books we read. Our selections tend to be on the gloomier end of the spectrum, so it is night to have a lighter one once in a while. I'm finding the main character to be annoying, which is dampening my enjoyment.  Next month we are reading Ann Patchett's State of Wonder, which I'm really looking forward to.

Will Write for Food, by Dianne Jacob

I picked this up from the library when I was researching freelance writing.  I like food.  I like to write about food.  I think it has some good information in it, though it was published in 2005 and the publishing industry has been in a lot of flux since then.  I need to start skimming some sections if I'm going to read the bits I really want to know before I need to turn it back in.

 

 

The Unexpected Son, by Shobhan Bantwal

Whenever I travel to Canada or England, I make a point of stopping in a bookstore and seeing what's new. The publishing industries are different, and I find the quality of books published and promoted in the British countries to be higher than American bestsellers. I've found some really good books in the bookstore in the London airport, for example.  I've been disappointed to see that in the last few years there has been more and more overlap with the US bestseller list. When I was in Canada in June, it wasn't until we were on our way to our gate in the Victoria airport that I realized we hadn't gone into a bookstore on our visit.  We were walking past one and I detoured past the display in front, but we really didn't have time to stop.  This book, the unexpected Son, was one of the books on the display so I was excited to see it in my library's new books section.  It is about an Indian woman who has been living in the US for most of her life when she finds out she has a living son who she thought had died at birth.  I can't tell you any more because I've only read the cover and the prologue so far...

I haven't started that epic about Dublin that I mentioned last month.  It is still sitting here on my coffee table.  And I only bought two books this month.  Which puts me, what, one more behind?  No, two, because all three of the above came from the library.  Ah, I miss having time to read!

I have read a few magazines this month: Recent issues of Whole Living, Kiwi, Yes! (two issues), an ancient copy of Writer's Digest I found while cleaning the living room, and I have the October Martha Stewart at the table where I settle after the baby goes to bed.  I'm looking forward to some time with that one tonight.  

It is raining today and I'm making banana bread this afternoon. The house is warm and smells wonderful.  If it weren't for the busy little baby crawling around my feet I would be curled up with a book.

 

** Book links are affiliate links to Bookshop Santa Cruz.  Help support my local bookstore (and me)! 

She's a good eater

It probably shouldn't surprise me that I seem to be raising a mini foodie, given how much I love food myself.  But this is why it surprised me: When I was pregnant all I could eat was white food.  Bland, mild, flavorless.  Nothing with vinegar or spice or any kind of acid.  I had terrible acid reflux that started right about when the nausea ended and then just got worse week by week until I seemed to only eat TJ's frozen pot stickers, white rice, and milk.  Much to my midwife's dismay.

It was awful. I missed an entire season of heirloom tomatoes.  An entire winter without lemons and clementines.  Salads because I couldn't handle the salad dressing. 

So I was sure this baby was going to be a child who didn't like anything but white, bland food.  Boy was I wrong.  We are using the baby-led weaning method of introducing solid foods, which basically means we feed her what we eat - no special purees or baby food.  No rice cereal, because I certainly didn't want to encourage the white food thing.  Her first solid food, about a week before she turned 6 months old, was a nectarine that I was eating over her head while she was in her carrier.  She wanted it, so I handed it over and let her suck on it.  Big hit.  And she's been wanting to try whatever I'm eating ever since.

For the first few weeks she was really just playing with foods we offered her - tasting, exploring the texture, but mostly letting things fall back out of her mouth.  But at some point I noticed she was swallowing, and suddenly she wanted to eat a lot.  Ironically, because the method has been termed "baby-led weaning" (emphasis mine), she also seemed to want to nurse more right around the same time, which I can only assume meant that she was having a really big growth spurt.  Also she learned how to crawl right around then.  

Tomorrow my Bean will be 8 months old and these are some of the things she ate this week:

• Pieces of chicken from several different dishes, including a chicken tikka masala wrap. 
• Chunks of nectarine, peach, and pluot.
• Some gorgeously ripe french melon from the farmer's market that made a deliciously sticky mess.
• Rice with some of the tikka masala sauce on it.
• Naan, bread from my sandwich today, and some of my english muffin yesterday.
• Yogurt.  Lots of yogurt.  Peach and banana this week.
• Water from a big-kid sippy cup with no valve (she's so proud of herself for knowing how to do this!)
• Falafel and hummus.  The hummus was the first food she really hasn't liked.  REALLY didn't like it.
• A spear of raw broccoli.  She didn't eat this so much as gnaw on it, but she seemed to be enjoying it. 
• A little bit of meatball at a potluck - I think it was turkey.
• Sweet potato fries from the same potluck.
• Bits from a burrito, including some chile verde pork, pinto beans, and avocado.
• Lots and lots of Plum Organics Puffs - she's particularly fond of the red and green flavors.
• Baby Mum-Mums as pre-dinner snack when I'm not making dinner fast enough.
• Homemade avgolemeno soup, which she liked so much I had to go get more out of the fridge when we finished the bowl I had heated for myself.
• She may have had a tiny bit of the brownie I ate today and the oatmeal cookie I had a couple of nights ago.  Neither had any nuts in them, though!

And I'm probably forgetting some things.  Writing out this list I'm aware of a particular lack of vegetables, which is an issue in my diet as well.  When I do eat them I prefer them raw, which isn't conducive to eating with only six teeth.  Sometimes I give her puree with peas or spinach in it just to get some green stuff in her, but she doesn't really like it. I've tried squash about 6 different ways and it doesn't even make it to her mouth.  She just smears it around the high-chair tray or dumps it over the edge.  If any of you have ideas for baby-friendly vegetables, I'd love to hear them!

I'm glad we are using this method of introducing solid food.  No power struggle, no real extra expense (except the Puffs and MumMums), and honestly, it is so much fun to watch her explore and really enjoy what she's eating.