Exposé: Cuisine-ophobia or the xenophobic kitchens of another generation

While celebrating a family birthday around a crowded, multi-generational table, I pontificated at my children about the way certain dishes and cuisines have shifted within American society from outsider status to everyday favorites. My immigrant in-laws nodded in agreement as we all discussed the way “normal” home cooking varies over time and between homelands.

pizza“Why, when Grandma was a child,” I intoned, “spaghetti was an ethnic Italian food that your American great-grandmother would never have made at home. Isn’t that funny, since we eat pasta and pizza every week?”

“Ah yes,” replied my younger son, “cuisine-ophobia is a terrible thing!”

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Exposé: My alarm clock is for the birds

My alarm clock doesn’t beep, it chirps.

Actually, I think it could simply beep, but I selected bird sounds as the least annoying option on the menu. I’ve got a fancy alarm clock.

Bedside clock nightstand Mg - 1I didn’t buy it for the birdsong option, but because I need light in order to wake up. That’s another topic worthy of a lot more discussion, but I’ll save it for another day.

The clock’s large lamp begins to glow and the intensity of light gradually increases for about half an hour before the time for which the alarm is set. It’s simulating a natural sunrise.

This bright, sunny morning, I was already awake and started on a bit of blogging over my mug of tea well before my alarm went off.

Sitting at my little table, finishing up my Mother’s Day post, I heard those silly, simulated, alarm clock birds start carrying on. I hurried over to hush them up before they disturbed the rest of the household.

But the clock wasn’t lighting up. Its lamp wasn’t glowing! Usually, the birds don’t sing until the virtual dawn has well and truly arrived.

Was my fancy alarm clock broken? Why wouldn’t the off button work?

And then I realized: the unholy chorus was outside my window.

Bird robin tree sky - 1Ah, spring! It’s for the birds.

Exposé: Call the Mom(b) Squad; she’s going to explode!

Some of us take board games a little too seriously.

Hanukkah 5 gift game Last Letter - 1

Last Letter card game by ThinkFun

We enjoyed “family game night” on a recent Saturday, during which my older son was inspired to exclaim:

Call the Mom(b) Squad; she’s going to explode!”

I’d like to take this opportunity to reassure everyone that this was not a case where I was worked up about losing. I was quite shocked to discover that I went from great to terrible at the game once we limited players over 12 to specific parts of speech. It is true, however, that I have been known to list imaginary players and ascribe higher point levels to them over my family members in those rare instances when I wasn’t going to win…Board game - 1

I was freaking out about reacting sensibly to the possibility of pieces being lost and/or put away outside of their assigned spots. This little blow up was motivated by OCD more than ego. You can’t be faulted for guessing the latter as it is always a fair possibility as far as my motivations go.

A fine time was had by all. My teen’s favorite part of the evening was, of course, his own clever comment. Now you get to enjoy it, too.

DS1 played only under duress because he’s a teenager now and it isn’t cool to spend time with your family. DS2 begs for a family game night every weekend; the little one also angles to play a really long, involved European type table game every time, or invents games of his own.

Exposé: Sonic storm

You know a storm is intense when its caterwauling drowns out the car stereo, and you’re playing AC/DC.

“Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap!”

The nor’easter isn’t over yet, but today finds it battering me inside of my house instead of my car. I had to wear earplugs to sleep through the periodic BOOM! Shakes that went on all night as the wind swirled and gusted.

DH and I both noticed that this particular weather event seemed to have it in for fences rather than the usual trees and limbs. I also saw two three porta-potties down on different building sites. Ew!

Here’s our own small gift from Mother Nature:nor'easter fence down - 1

I remain grateful that there will be nothing to shovel when this one finishes blowing through, however.

nor'easter snow - 1

Snow reaching top of 6 ft privacy fence after storm

Exposé: My son’s moral protractor

Spoken by my younger son today:

“I don’t have a moral compass.

I have a moral protractor!”

protractor - 1

It’s moments like this that make a geek mother smile. Also, the fact that my neon protractor from eighth grade has somehow remained in my possession for thirty years is a point of pride.

Yes, the standard clear model is easier to use, but it’s less massively awesome. Like, totally.

If I were really cool, I’d have a slide rule handy to add to the math tool photo spread. Alas, I’m a product of the pocket calculator age. I did inherit my grandfather’s slide rule cuff links, however, making me capable of geek chic if I wear French cuffs.

The cuff links are purely decorative facsimiles of the venerable manual calculator, of course. That’s the first question everyone asks. Imagine how tiny those logarithm scales would have to be to fit on something that slips through a buttonhole!

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