bringingupbuddhas

suburban adventures in bu-curious mothering

Tag: recipes

what fills us…

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Penelope came home a few days ago with a recipe for chicken pot pie. She had printed it at school and asked if we could make it together for dinner.

We started last night around 4:30. I coached her through trimming raw chicken breast and rubbing it down with oil, salt and pepper. I taught her how to dice onions the way my mother-in-law taught me. I did my best to be patient while she scooped organic corn kernels into the pot with her bare hands and made tiny gummy bear replicas out of the dough before we rolled it out. I learned that cooking with my daughter is more of a joy than a chore.

We finally sat down to dinner at 7:30. The kids gushed, “Oh my gosh, this is so good,” over and over. They even ate the carrots. But the best part was how accomplished Penelope felt. There are so many things going on outside of the home… activities and playdates, work and parties… but none are so fulfilling to my ten year old as homemade chicken pot pie.

Learn more about the importance of ‪#‎familydinner‬ at www.thefamilydinnerproject.org.

From mine to yours,

Vanessa

p.s. Here’s the recipe: http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/chicken-pot-pie-recipe.html . It made 10 tiny pies (divided in ramekins) and two 8 inch pies. You can see them in the pics.

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hi, it’s vanessa. where are you?????

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The clock in my kitchen is my go-to for all my timely needs.  There are other clocks around the house, but for some reason I always consult the kitchen clock for accurate time.  Oddly enough, the five minute intervals read “now” instead of numbers, so time telling is a two step translation process – a process that perhaps took the edge off last night as I was watching that minute hand in orbit, converting “nows” into numbers, waiting for my husband to come home after work.

We were all hungry, dinner was hot.  Around 6:0o I called him four times in quick succession.  I thought the intensity of my effort might encourage him to pick up, mentally willing him with every ring.  No dice.

So finally at 7:00 I sat the crew down to eat.  Dinner was typical.  The girls chowed down while my son staged a sit-in across the kitchen.  We ate the last half of our meal in intentional silence, doing our best to focus on chewing and tasting.  In the silence I had a hard time focusing on anything really.  Well, anything but this:  Where the hell is my husband???

As the “nows” accumulated, one nagging, irrational thought snagged its claws on my otherwise typical thoughts.  If he got into an accident, the hospital would have called me, right?  Would I have a sixth sense if he was dead?  Would I just know?  He’s not dead, though.  But he could be.  No.  Could he be?  I’m sure he’s fine.  Maybe I’ll watch a little TV.

The phone finally rang after I put the kids to sleep.  He was fine, enjoying dinner with a friend visiting from out of town.  He had actually told me several times he had plans but I forgot, didn’t write it down, screwed up.  Oops.  All that worrying for nothing.  It’s not as if I didn’t have a gentle reminder telling me to be here and “now”.  Jeez.

The scene brought to mind of a poem I heard by Richard Blanco on NPR’s Fresh Air with Terry Gross.  I pulled this off of NPR’s transcripts, so I’m guessing how the stanzas might be broken up.  Enjoy…

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Killing Mark, by Poet Richard Blanco

His plane went down over Los Angeles last week, again.

Or was it Long Island?

Boxer shorts, hair gel, his toothbrush washed up on the shore of New Haven, but his body never recovered, I feared.

Monday he cut off his leg chain-sawing. Bleed to death slowly while I was shopping for a new lamp.

Never heard my messages on his cell phone.

Where are you? Call me.

I told him to be careful.

He never listens.

Tonight, 15 minutes late. I’m sure he’s hit a moose on Route 26.

But maybe he survived.

Someone from the hospital will call me, give me his room number. I’ll bring his pajamas and some magazines.

5:25, still no phone call.

Voice mail full.

I turn on the news, wait for the report. Flashes of moose blood, his car mangled, as I buzz around the bedroom dusting the furniture, sorting the sock drawer.

By 7:30, I’m taking mental notes for his eulogy, suddenly adoring all I’ve hated, 10 years worth of nose hairs in the sink, of lost car keys, of chewing too loud and hogging the bed sheets,

when Joy yowls.  Ears to the sound of footsteps up the drive and darts to the doorway,

I follow with a scowl: Where the hell were you? Couldn’t you call?

Translation. I die each time I kill you.

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From mine to yours,

Vanessa

p.s.  If you like this article, please consider sharing it on social media.  Thank you!

my first blogger award… aw, shucks!

What a treat to log in this morning and find this on my dashboard:

Warm gratitude to The [Ex-] Witch Next Door‘s author Hazel Harker for passing along this lovely virtual hug, The Beautiful Blogger Award.  Hazel, like so many of us, is evolving full time…  a mother and seeker, she experiences life, love and philosophy through a wide open mind and shares her wisdom candidly and honestly with us on her blogs.  A real gem.  You can read more of her musings on Love You, Love Me.

My job now is to share 7 things about me and pass this award along to others whose writings give me the warm-fuzzies.

1. I have had the Tab soda jingle stuck in my head since 1983. “Ooh eee ooh aah aah Tab tastes walla walla bing bang.” Sometimes I walk to the beat of it.

2. I love hot yoga because it makes me feel like Gumby. But not green. And not weird.

3. I have the fastest metabolism in the east. If digestion was an Olympic sport I’d win gold.  Move over Michael Phelps.

4. I like the smell of skunks. Is that totally gross?

5. I had a major crush on Gopher from The Loveboat when I was about 4 years old.

6. I elected to have natural childbirth with all three of my kids. Totally empowering! Roar!

7. I can burp really loud.

Strangely, this was my alternate “thing” to share – “When I was little I used to tell people I wanted to be a stripper when I grow up.”  Then I realized that the nature of blogging is very similar to stripping, therefore I may very well be achieving my lifelong dream (haha).  It’s just that instead of stripping my clothes and filling my undies with money, I’m stripping my ego and filling my heart with peace.   [Note:  I had no idea what a stripper was when I was a kid.  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.]

Okay, blogs to nominate…

Loving Bytes by Jennifer Williams – a perfect blend of great writing, lessons in mindfulness and delicious recipes…  Yummmmmm.

Inner Mentor by Poppy and Anna – just came across this one recently and it made me smile.  Where fashion meets godliness.

DOA Konsult by Raunak Mahajan – a smart, thoughtful guy with big ideas, fearlessly covering the unmentionables: politics and religion (and more).

To the Soul by Blake Bergen – amazing amazing.  I love Blake’s portraits.  He photographs everyday people and through his lens, there is an opportunity to look through the gateway to the soul.  I am you, you are me feeling.  Love it.

Young American Wisdom by Nancy – holy crap, this woman is hilarious, a star on the rise.  Beauty is everywhere, most definitely in laughter and motherhood.

Words That Serve by Harula Ladd – peaceful, poetic, purposeful.  Harula just oozes good-spiritedness.

Living Livelier by Deb DePeter & Becky Tellefsen of Bryant Park Designs – two inspiring women who create beauty through interior design.  Always something interesting to read and pretty pictures to peruse.

Many thanks and much love from mine to yours!

Vanessa