Welcome to My Frontier

If I could swap spots with one person these days, it would be the Pioneer Woman, Ree Drummond.  With her sassy mom tops and awesome cowboy boots right down to her basset hounds and cowboy lifestyle, I feel certain I could work my deep Texas roots enough to fit in on her sprawling Oklahoma ranch. 

The moment I would be found out as a decoy would be when dinner was served up.  I just can't cook worth a flip. So I've engaged other parties to try and figger it out for me, namely my daughter.

Yes, as part of more prescribed summer fun, Madeleine is planning to cook her way through (mostly) Pioneer Woman recipes.   And sure enough, in the last five days, she's made blackberry cobbler, French bread pizzas, homemade pasta, banana bread, and the most heavenly au gratin potatoes.

In loyal support of her efforts, I have regretfully and with great difficulty set aside my tedious low carb diet to sample these delicacies.  

The cobbler was so delicious and devoured by everyone from dad to baby that the next day I decided to try my hand at the same recipe.  What I churned out had too few blueberries, too much lumpy dough, and burned a little on top.  Yech. 

Rolling out homemade pasta while sporting the apron she sewed a few years back?
Maybe someone should start her own blog.

This Pioneer-Woman-wanna-be might have come up with her best summer idea ever: a cooking understudy.  Next up: Croissant French Toast Bake.  

So much for low carb.....time to shop for a sassy swimsuit coverup instead?

Hitting the High Notes

I have a very skeptical view of moms who present themselves as if they are perfect, their houses are all organized down to the last junk drawer, their moods are seamlessly happy, their clothes are all stylish, well pressed, and accessorized, and their kids never whine in public places, fuss over what's for dinner, or--dare I say it--baptize the bushes in the front yard.

For the record, I have three "official" junk drawers, my toddler had a meltdown at Publix this very morning, and I sometimes set aside my church outfit to wear on Monday so I won't have to think through what I'm putting on at six in the morning.  On the flip side, I also have some really amazing and satisfying moments when everything and everyone seems to be ticking along.  I am grateful for those moments.  So when I fall into go to bed, I run through the day in my mind and try to hit all the high notes, because at this point in the parenting process, I know that the lows will either fade in my memory or become quite hilarious if I can just keep on keepin' on.

So here are some highs from this week, seven days of good livin' that I will never get back again:

HIGH: The weather was incredible. Chilly, but somehow--in a patch of sunshine--it felt just right.

HIGH: the kids really seemed to enjoy their moments of free time, and it was satisfying to behold.

 



HIGH: I laughed every day as I found myself in unpredictable kid conversations. Madeleine and I stayed up late sharing her poetry (pretty gosh darn good) and reading from my old poetry journals dating back to the late 1980s (hideous! hysterical!).  And how could one not laugh when reaching in the aforementioned junk drawer and happening upon a note like this?

 

HIGH: The kids were quite the backyardigans, building teepees by the pond and setting up Dad's new hammock. Glad they enjoyed it, because it's as close to camping as they're gonna see while in my care.

HIGH: I tried some new recipes!  And even took pretty pictures!  We had some afternoon company, so Madeleine made these cherry cheesecake shooters from my heroine, The Pioneer Woman.  She reminds me of a young version of my Texas grandma, who says "Hidey!" instead of hello and measures her baking ingredients in the palm of her hand.  Good memories, new recipes and a child concocting said new recipes--that's a winning combination in my book.

No bubblegum juice was used in the making of this product.

“Set wide the window. Let me drink the day.”

Edith Wharton, Artemis to Actaeon