Sunday, March 3, 2013

Chili Love

Today, I made my best pot of chili ever:

1.5 pd ground sirloin
2 medium onions
5 cloves garlic
3 peppers: yellow, red, green

chili powder to taste
cumin to taste
salt to taste 
2 15 oz. cans small fancy red beans
1 quart stewed tomatoes

I used my crock-pot pot on the stove top to brown  the beef.

Drained it on a paper towel while I food-processored the onions and garlic.

Sauted them in olive oiled crock-pot pot while I food processored the peppers (side note: at first, I feared this had been a mistake, as they quickly liquified, but in the end, I think this deepened the flavor. Or maybe that's nonsense).

Added the peppers to the onions for a few minutes before adding the chili powder and cumin.

Then I moved the pot into the crock-pot cooker thing and added the beef (sans excess fat), beans, and tomatoes. A little more salt. And cooked it on low for 6 hours.

Lo and behold, it was hearty and all. 
Well, it's happened. The Duck (my daughter) asked for an American Girl doll for her birthday.

And so we are catapulted into the mainstream of American Consumer Girlhood.

It had to happen, but now I have two questions.

1) Why does this does this bother me more than The Bear's (my youngest son) Lightening McQueen obsession?

And 2) how long before Barbies infiltrate?

Monday, February 25, 2013

Been craving the recipe below all day. But I'm too tired and grouchy to make a batch.

So I've been trying to think of a half-ass version. Something quick, easy, and on hand.

First, I thought about eating a stick of butter. Then, I remembered I have peanut butter and can eat that by the spoonful.

It won't be nearly so satisfying (no oats, no chocolate, no creamy-cheesy-dairy-butter goodness, but it might just tide me over until some kind friend takes pity on me and whips up a batch.

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Ugh. I'm starting a blog.

Why? My husband asked. 

I think I need to give my Facebook friends a break, I replied.  I think I post too often and too long. But do I want to be a blogger? Aren't they mostly narcissistic d-bags? Better not. Idea discarded.

Then, a friend complained about having to wade through my thousands of shitty posts to find ones with real news. 

So, here it is. This is happening. 

An informal survey of the aforementioned friends highlighted the following preoccupations in my posts: food, busters (my children), students, drinking, ambivalence. 

But what's the theme? Don't all good blogs have a theme? A thing? What's my thing

Ambivalence. Anxiety. Need for nourishment.

So, what's with the title? 

I stole it from Virginia Woolf. Here's a crude paraphrase of the allusion: most of our lives are mediated through a sort of cotton wool, which stifles much but occasionally lifts, giving us moments of being. Moments of clarity. Moments of joy. Moments of being wholly feeling and present. Or at least, this is how I understand it. 

And eddying is what I feel myself doing. A lot. Or at least that's the metaphor I've come up with to describe the whirl/reel/loop that is my cotton wool. 

Family and friends pull me out of the swirl and pull me along the current. 

This is a record of the eddies and the moments.