Emperor Norton's Grave.

Today Hubby, The Kiddies and I stopped at the Woodlawn Memoral Park on our way to Costco. We drove around the cemetary looking for Lot H, then to find the final resting place of Emperor Joshua A. Norton I.

We all took pictures next to the headstone.

Little Mister napped during his and hubby's turn.

I smiled and hugged the tombstone

 

and, just like the 'tween she is, she read and pretended she didn't know us.

It was a nice afternoon.

The 5th Grade, Home Depot and Teacher Ming

Today Little Miss started the 5th grade.

Oh my gosh you guys she's getting so old. Just yesterday I was picking up my little girl from preschool. I remember when she'd come home from her preschool with new phrases that she'd learn, some of which were in a thick Cantonese accent. Our conversations would go something like this.

Her: Mommy, will you buy me some O-lee-os?
Me: What are "O-lee-os"?
Her: Cookies we get at school.
Me: Hmm, "O-lee-os" are they chocolate cookies with yummy white stuff inside?
Her: Yeah.
Me: Baby those are called Oreos.
Her: No. Teacher Ming calles them O-lee-os.

I tried to explain to her that Teacher Ming was saying Oreos. I tried to explain to her that when one grows up speaking one language, and then goes to learn a new language, it's hard to get the accent just right, or it's hard to make certain sounds. Then I demonstrated that I can't roll my Rs and told her that I did horribly in Spanish class because of it. I think it took a little while for it to sink in because she still called them "O-lee-os." I think it's also because she loved Teacher Ming. Teacher Ming was a nice lady. I hope she's still there when we send The Little Mister to preschool.

Anyhow, last night we were talking about starting the 5th grade and teachers. I asked her if she had a favorite teacher. She did. I asked her if she ever had a teacher she really didn't like. She did. I told her that she was always going to remember her favorite teacher and she was always going to remember her worst teacher ever.

Then I told her that my 5th grade teacher was my least favorite teacher, ever. By the way she treated me I think I was her least favorite student. In all fairness other people had an experience with this person that was the exact opposite of my experiences with her. She's probably remembered as the best teacher someone has ever had by someone out there in the universe, but it isn't me. Not all personalities blend together nicely. Ours certainly didn't, but I was 10 and she was the teacher. It was her job to take the high road and she chose not too. She just wasn't nice to me. If you want to read about it go here. (I think I might have "issues" surrounding this because looking back on my blog I've mentioned it a few times).

Anyhow, my Little Miss is growing up. She's a 5th grader. Congratulations Baby. I love you.

Yup, still hate 'em.

Last night I accomplished #22 of my list (22. Try dolmas again. I hate them but I recognize that people's taste buds change. Maybe mine will and I'll like dolmas one day. I would really like to like them.)

So freaking gross. I almost couldn't go through with it.

We went to Whole Foods yesterday to pick up some snacks for our upcoming vacation. It was getting a bit late so we decided to get dinner from the deli and bring it home (or as Little Miss did, eat it in the car). I ordered 2 dolmas from the deli case thinking last night should be the night I try dolmas again.

Oh my gosh, you guys. It was so disgusting. I picked one up, was a little grossed out by its sheen but nothing I couldn't deal with. What I couldn't deal with is the horrible smell. I put it down right away. I couldn't take a bite. Little Miss picked one up, took a bite and although wasn't grossed out like I was, didn't really like it. I thought 'if Little Miss can do it, so can I', so I did. I picked it up, took a bite, chewed and swallowed.

Worst 20 seconds of my life, followed by the next worst 20 seconds of my life when I realized I had nothing to wash it down with.

Now I know, without question, that I truly hate dolmas. I thought maybe it was just the dolma producer, maybe it was a lingering taste I had in my mouth that made the dolma not taste good, maybe my taste buds hadn't reached maturity. Nope. None of that. I am a dolma hater.

2 down

This weekend I accomplished two more things on my list. I did #43 Take Little Miss to a Festa and #49 Ride the Giant Dipper with Little Miss.



This weekend Hubby and I took the Kiddies to Santa Cruz to enjoy the Festival of the Holy Spirit. Oh my gosh we had fun. We got to Santa Cruz about 9:30am on Sunday, found a nice comfy place to sit and waited for the parade to start. Little Mister, of course, was not interested in sitting so the Hubbs and I took turns walking him up and down the street. Little Miss was a little restless as well, but as soon as the parade started she got into it.Tons of girls around her age dressed in really pretty white dresses with trains longer then they were tall. I gotta say, the trains on their capes (I guess you would call them capes) were beautiful.


After the parade we drove to Church then off to the Portuguese Hall, met up with Hubby's aunt and a few of his cousins. I gotta say, I really like his aunt and cousins. Not only are they very nice people, they just look like good people. They seem to exude good, always welcoming, always with open arms. I really like the Santa Cruz wing of Hubby's family. Now all I have to do is get all the names straight of all of Hubby's cousin's kids.



The moment I stepped out of the car I smelled the smelly smell of sopas. MMMM. One of the yummiest things ever. The link above to the Festival of the Holy Spirit has a recipe at the bottom. I'm sure that many different regions of Portugal, The Azores, Santa Cruz, Merced, etc. have versions that are specific to their area, family or terroir, but you'll get the basic idea.



We ate and ate and ate and ate and ate. About a year ago Little Miss gave up beef, except for Festas and St. Patrick's Day dinner. She ate beef yesterday. I was worried she'd get a tummy ache but she didn't, at least she didn't act like she felt yucky. She did feel a little guilty, but she got over it once she smelled the yummy food. Little Mister, it being his first Festa, pleased all on lookers old and young. He must have eaten his body weight in Sopas. Good boy. So glad I've raised two eaters.



We left before the dancing started. I think it would have been fun to stay for a while but we had a 2 hr. drive ahead of us and we needed to make one more stop . . . Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. We totally lucked out on parking. 2 hr metered parking right across the street. Sweet.

I bought tix for Little Miss and me to ride the Giant Dipper. Yay, #49 is done. I don't think I like Roller Coasters. I think I don't mind them, but I don't think I really enjoy them, except Space Mountain. I like that one. Hubby and Little Mister waited for us at the exit. After riding the Giant Dipper we went home.



We were tired, sweaty, dirty, a little cranky, but mostly happy and satisfied. We had a big day. We drove to Santa Cruz, we watched a Parade. We went to Church, we saw family we hardly ever see, we ate a whole cow, we rode a roller coaster, we had some cotton candy. It was a full day.

Parents say the craziest things . . . . .

things I've said this week, or things my hubby or kid have said --

-- The kitty is not a drum.

-- Don't pet the kitty with your toast.

-- Stop rubbing broccoli all over your body.

-- "Little Miss, where is your brother?" "He's in the hallway licking his books."

-- stop licking the bathwater
-- little mister is talking to the whiffle ball
-- little mister tried to eat the computer

Knockers and Bras - I did it right.

Back in 2006 when I had a myspace account I wrote a little snippet about an adventure Little Miss and I had at Target. You can find the full text here. Just scroll down to the bottom. Here it is reposted for you in a nutshell (but if you want a good giggle, go back and read the whole post).

Friday, August 04, 2006 - I've always wanted big knockers!

Yesterday Little Miss and I were in Target. We were looking at all of the barrettes and hair ties. All of the sudden Little Miss said "mom, I've always wanted big knockers."

Here's what she meant

Two days ago Little Miss and I went bra shopping. Lemme tell you, just as much of a rite of passage for me as it was for her.

She's been wearing a camisole ("cami" she calls them) for a few months now. The other night I was in the garage switching the wash around. She came downstairs, stood in the doorway and told me she was ready for a bra. I played it cool and said "OK, tomorrow when I get home from work we'll go to Target". She left the garage and I freaked out a little.

The next day we went to Target as promised. We got the smallest sized bra, which I was sure would be too big for her. She tried it on. It was too small. It was too small? Oh my gosh. She tried on the next size up and it was a little too big. OK, at least she isn't ready for the next size up. We went back to the bra section. I picked out something white and functional, and then told her to pick out any 4 bras in her size. I stood back and pretended to look at another rack (no pun intended) while she chose which bras she liked best.

Before we left the bra section, I told her I was a little bit nervous. My first bra experience wasn't exactly fun and I wanted to make sure her first experience was nice. I remember sitting on my bed reading or something and my mom comes to the door of my room and throws a paper bag from Thrifty Drug to me. I open it, notice what it is and then my mom pointed at me and said sharply "and you will wear it". End of story. I told Little Miss the story. She agreed that it didn't sound like a very positive experience. She told me I did OK and didn't make her feel weird. Then I let her look in the girls' section for a few minutes while I went to the boys' section to see if there were any pants on sale for the Little Mister.

We left the store and went home. She went to her room right away and tried on her new garments. We ate dinner and had a normal night.

Later, when she told me good night she whispered in my ear "you did it right".

I swear she's not human.

I really do.
God gave her to me. She's an angel.

She has the best heart of anyone I've ever met. She is kind, sweet, sensitive. She had a warped and funny sense of humor and is always thinking of other people. She's not perfect - her room is a sty, she's always losing things 5 minutes before we have to leave the house, she has to be prodded and poked to do her chores - I guess that means, in that respect she's a normal kid on the outside.

Her greatest passion is the environment.

She wears a polar bear charm on her neck. She'll read or bathe in the dark so she doesn't "kill the polar bears". I've seen her rummage through the trash and separate the recycle, compost and trash.

Last Saturday we asked her what she wanted to do that day. She said she wanted to go to the beach and pick up trash. So, Saturday afternoon, after we had finished a bunch of errands, Hubby walked her down to the beach. They each were armed with trash bags and a pair of gloves and had extra gloves in their pockets. I gave her the speech about not picking up any needles or looking for trash in the dunes (people live there, some are homeless and harmless, some are homeless and not harmless).

They came home covered in sand, cold and wet, but with smiles. I'm so proud of her.

There's no Kentucky Fried Chicken in Kentucky

My dream last night or this morning, rather.

Hubby, Little Miss and Little Mister and I were driving through Kenya. Picture driving through Calistoga except with a lot of neon. We saw a Kentucky Fried Chicken, except the sign didn't say KFC in english. The sign was written in Kenyan (OK I don't know what the Kenyan language is called so I'm just going to call it Kenyan because that's what I called it in my dream). We knew it was a KFC because we as a society are succeptible to branding. Hubby said "There's a Kentucky Fried Chicken in Kentucky." Little Miss shouted out "There's no Kentucky Fried Chicken in Kentucky, we're in Kenya."

Then suddenly we were no longer driving, but walking. We saw some Golden Arches. McDonalds was written out in english, not Kenyan. I said "I wonder if there's a starbucks." We turned the corner and yes, there was a starbucks in Kenya, but again, nothing was in english. We only knew it was s-bux because we know what the logo looks like. I made Little Miss order her own coffee. She was a little freaked out to order by herself because she didn't speak Kenyan. I told her that it is s-bux, they are nothing if not consistent. Just point to what you want.
Then we started walking down the midway, because in my dream-Kenya there is a midway filled with lots of neon and those games with the waterguns where you shoot at a target to make your baloon go up or the racecar win the race. All of the carnies were English, had super cockney accents and drank fine wine while they were working. The prizes for one of the games were bobble-head dolls of San Francisco Giants.

I love my dream life.

A lesson I taught Little Miss.

I don't wear make-up all the time. I am perfectly happy going for weeks on end without putting on any makeup. Usually the only jewelry I wear is my wedding band; sometimes a necklace, but usually only my wedding band. I don't even wear the whole wedding ring set which includes two additional pieces.

I know sometimes life tells us we have to present ourselves according to the situation at hand. So, I wear makeup to work. Sometimes I'll put on a pair of earrings.

There's one thing I've been telling my daughter ever since she showed an interest in watching me put on makeup.
Here it is --

Makeup is like Jewelry. Sometimes you need it. Sometimes you don't. Sometimes you need a lot. Sometimes you need a little. But you never ever never need it to be beautiful.

Go Hang a Salami. I'm a Lasagna Hog!

So I've spent part of my morning looking for a lasagna recipe, sort of.

I make pretty good lasagne but I've never made it for 100 people at once. I need to make enough lasagna to feed 100 people, and some of it needs to be vegetarian. None of it can have beef or veal (darn, no veal bones) because Little Miss is off the cow. She doesn't eat beef.

If possible I don't want to make two different sauces. I want to use the same sauce for both versions of lasagne. I know I will cheat and say the sause is vegetarian because , in my opinion, no sauce is complete without a little bit of anchovy. I like the kind that comes in the toothpaste tube.

I guess what I'm looking for is a good lasagne recipe that I can use as a guide so when I make my shopping list I know how much of each ingredient I should plan on buying.

Any help you could give me would be great.