Birthday Treats

Sling couldn't make it to my birthday party but he promised he'd be there in spirits, and by "spirits" I mean, he promised to design a cocktail for the event. And he did. The Neighbor, JP and I had one before the party and until the Chambord runs out, The Neighbor and I will be enjoying one at least once a week. (It's a little much for daily consumption, what with us wanting to keep our trim and youthful figures, but the occasional indulgence is good for the soul).

This is the email he sent me, which was just sweet as can be:

I know that you enjoy "Pink Squirrels",so I wanted to design something along those lines for your birthday,only a little more special.

I wanted it to be seasonal,what with your B-day landing right on the cusp of Fall.
I wanted it to be something that wasn't too expensive...But still,..this is a milestone event!
I wanted it to be festive,AND!...
I wanted it to be named after you.
Two recipes follow...Single serving mixed drink,and blended party style.

****The 'Rainey Day****

Single serve:
In mixing glass with ice;
3/4 oz. Chambord Raspberry Liqueur
1/4 oz. Dark Creme De Cacao
1 oz. Vodka
1 oz. Light Creme (or milk)
Shake and strain into chilled Martini glass
Garnish with Maraschino cherry.

Blended:
Fill mixing cup 3/4 full with ice,..Add;
2 oz. Chambord Raspberry Liqueur
1 oz. Dark Creme De Cacao
2 oz.Vodka
Splash Whipped Cream
Add milk to top of ice and blend until desired consistency.
Serve in Poco Loco (or some such fancy) glass.

Happy Birthday my Dear Friend!!

Isn't he just the sweetest thing, ever? I love having my own personal bartender.

Thanks, Sling. It's a very yummy drink. You're the greatest.

JP loved the Chambord bottle. He said he felt like the pope when he carried it.

It does look like something you'd find in a sacristy.

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In a perfect world, we wouldn't do a single thing this weekend. And mostly we won't. But tonight we are attending a movie premiere. (I know...such a glamorous life). It's for a short that was done by The Spouse's buddy Matthew Morris, a little thing called "Sans Vie". It's set in the future, in the French quarter of Seattle. Yeah. We don't have a French quarter. Whatever. It's the future. I guess the French are in charge. JP will hate the future.

The Spouse worked on the film and The Child had a small role as the main character as a young girl. It was her first film so she's very excited to see it.

Back to School

See that? It's a lunchbox. It is packed with nutritious food. The Child made it herself. After she did the dinner dishes. I call that a right good start.

She's been doing the eye-rolling-"ooh, ish" thing whenever anyone asks her if she's ready for school to start. But she told me privately that she's eager and "determined to do well this year". One day at a time, right? She's currently listening to a pop station and doing her makeup. Yeah. Her makeup.

First time the first day of school has involved that little ritual.

The Parent Board is hosting a little back-to-school coffee hour for parents. I made banana bread. Then I'll come home to meet ChouChou for our traditional Bloody Mary Tuesday, wherein we will recite the time honored litany that goes like this:

"_________ grade. I can't believe it!"

R: "I know".

"What every happened to our sweet baby?"

R: "I know".

"Can you believe you have a ________ grader?"

R: "Nope. I really can't".

So say we all.

When the Bloody Marys are drunk and the occasion observed properly, I will then begin to make some headway on reclaiming my life. There's content to write for the webpage for my company, lines to run for the movie (which we start shooting this weekend) and I'm pretty sure the kitchen floor hasn't been mopped in three weeks.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go take some first-day-of-school photos.

Extra Credit

Yesterday afternoon was, I confess, an exercise in the-best-laid-plans phenomenon. I knew it would be a little nutty and was prepared for it. But then, well, this is how I summed it up, in an email to Jon:

I am about ready to take my child by her neck and wring it. She was late coming out of study hall, to the point that I had to go looking all over school for her (because she did her study hall in her classroom, not in study hall proper) and by the time we actually got to the car it was too damn late to try and get across town for choir so we came home and I called her in absent to choir and then she realized she left her math book at school, which means she'll have a missing assignment report which means she'll lose tv privileges for a week so she spent 15 minutes crying about it instead of doing the other work she has and we have to leave in 40 fracking minutes for her volleyball game. And J is coming to pick up Trudy which means that The Child will feel compelled to get up and dance around when she arrives. Oh, and did I mention she needs a pomegranate for school tomorrow?

Hello? Who needs a cocktail?

This apparently made Jon laugh. That's what I'm here for.

So this bloody pomegranate thing. The 7th grade has been reading myths and folklore, in a run up to the big book of the trimester, The Hobbit. After reading the myth of Persephone the teacher said that anyone who brought a pomegrantate to class would get extra credit. Query: do teachers not realize that assignments like this are not assignments for the children, but for the parents? Tell them to find a picture of a pomegranate on the Internet or to make a papier mache pomegranate (that could be kinda cool). Have them write a cinquain poem about bloody pomegranates but giving a kid one day to bring an out-of-season fruit to school is not the way to engender the good will of people who you need to chaperone your field trips.

Right. So I check at the co-op. They don't have any. We go to the game. We have to wait for the first group to finish up so I go to the Safeway right by the community center. No pomegranates. Why would there be? We see pomegranates in the winter, usually around Christmas time.

On the way home The Child suggests we check some other stores. "It's nearly 8pm, I'm hungry and you still have homework," I said, rather unsympathetically. "Let's hope you're doing good work in lit already. Besides," I add, "this isn't even pomegranate season".

"I know," she answered blithely, "that's why it's extra credit". (Silently I sneer, "Mr. R., I got your extra credit right here".)

There's a funky produce stand on our way home and The Child sees that the lights are still on. We stop. They have pomegranates for $1.89 each. I have $2. She buys the bloody thing and I instruct her to put it immediately in her backpack the second we get home because I know that if she manages to leave it behind I will not be pleased.

Btw, one of her team-mates had her math book with her so The Child was able to photocopy her assignment and get it done. No missing assignment AND she had a pomegranate to turn in. Huzzah, huzzah. But shouldn't I be the one who gets the extra credit?

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There is something that mitigates any residual frustration I may feel from yesterday, which is, of course, the premiere of "Battlestar Galactica" in just a little less than 8 hours. I have a plan.

Little Celebrations

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1. The rains haven't completely returned. It is an Indian summer, cool mornings and nights, warm days. It's beautiful.

2. Yesterday I started to harvest apples. We have a columnar apple tree in the herb bed, what The Spouse charmingly refers to as "the apple stick". The apple stick is full of fruit this year, for a little tree. I have already baked one pie.

The above bowlful represents only about half of what is left on the tree, which doesn't include the ones which have already fallen or the ones which The Dog learned to steal from the bottom most branches. I have a hankering for applesauce cake (no raisins, eeww) and turnovers and tarte tatin.

3. Last night The Neighbor and I had our usual "cocktail hour", for about twice as long as usual. Sometimes it's just a quick check-in, "how was your day" sort of visit. Sometimes we really get going, like last night, talking about politics, personal responsibility, hope, reality tv, blogs and how much we both hate it when someone says, "Well, that's just the way it is".

Have I mentioned lately how much I love The Neighbor? Somewhere along the way she went from being a really cool neighbor who shared the proverbial cup of sugar over a fence and was fun (and convenient) to hang with to becoming one of my best friends. I heart her.

4. And while I'm handing out puffy hearts, thanks to my darling poodle, JP, again, for being just the bestest ever. I really wanted to change my profile picture but I couldn't figure out how to do it. (The Spouse has always done it for me and I never remembered to ask him to help when he had the time to help me). So I asked JP and he gave me instructions and when I got error messages he explained what I was doing wrong so I could fix it until, voilà, new picture.

Whenever I hear about how "disconnected" we're all supposedly becoming because of the Internet, I think, among others, of my Poodle. I believe very much in the strength and power of community. Seeking to build community is one of the values that guides my life. I love my blog community. I love JP.

5. I also need to give a belated snap to Renée who figured out how to insert accent marks and groovy symbols into text and generously shared that infomation when asked. And also because she is a very gifted writer who is very enjoyable to read, even though she did recently post a very icky picture of a very icky spider that she found in her basement.

6. "Gilmore girls" was good last night. Really good. That makes me so happy.

7. Ikea's frozen Swedish meatballs are the most delicious thing ever. We had them for dinner last night with lingonberry sauce. And it's a good thing I planned it that way, too, because it meant that I could spend extra time hanging with The Neighbor and still give the family a decent dinner, even though I was an hour late getting it to the table.

8. Our Jewish neighbors are preparing for Sukkot, which means that little huts are springing up in various back gardens. There will be a lot of late night feasting and laughter will come over the back fence from the Rabbi's house. The Rabbi's Wife has invited The Neighbor and I to stop in one evening and I think we will. I will have to get a bottle of kosher wine to take with us. The Rabbi's Wife is an excellent cook.

9. All my clean napkins are ironed.

10. Tonight we're having Gourmet Baffoo for dinner. A few years back, when The Child began to take a serious interest in cooking, she asked to invent a recipe. I was planning on doing something with chicken and she started to suggest how it should be prepared. It was basically a modification of my chicken and biscuits recipe, without the biscuits, and served over pasta. It was good. When I asked her what we should call the concoction she said, "Gourmet Baffoo". I don't know what the heck that's supposed to mean but that's what we call it.

Gourmet Baffoo

Brown 2 skinless, boneless chicken breasts, cut into pieces. Set aside.
Dice ½ c. of carrots and cook in boiling water just until beginning to be tender.

Prepare farfalle or rotini pasta, according to package directions.

While pasta cooks:

In pan that chicken was browned in add 2 T. butter and sauté:
¼ pound crimini mushrooms, diced
½ large onion, diced

When onion is translucent, sprinkle in 2 T. flour and cook 1 minute.

Add 2 c. half & half and cook until sauce thickens. Add in 1/2 c. frozen green peas and the cooked carrots. Add ¼ c. grated Parmesan cheese and salt & pepper to taste.

Pour cooked pasta in baking dish. Lay chicken pieces on pasta and cover all with sauce. Top with bread crumbs.

Bake at 425 degrees for 20 minutes.