Mama's Musings

[Slow News] Slow Christmas through Play, Not Shopping http://bit.ly/8mwvqV

[Slow News] A Trend Towards More Free Time? http://bit.ly/80e0hR

[Slow News] Breathe the fresh, slow air http://bit.ly/7MW34I

What Has Gotten Over Me...and Other Slow Thoughts

It was the sauce and dips cookbook that did it. There I was, meandering about my all-time favorite cooking utensils store when the book popped out at me. That it was in the corner didn't seem to matter. It nearly lept into my lap.

"Take me home," it said. I hesitated after looking at the price. Then I saw its cousin for half the money in a neighboring shelf.

"Tough tootsies, guy. The other one's coming with me."

I swear they were in cahoots because I hadn't really intended on buying anything when I entered the store. I opened the door with a 'just browsing' sign on my forehead.

The next thing I knew, the cash register was ringing. And so were my ears.

My natural inclination was to then try out a few of the recipes. I mean really, what's the sense in buying a cookbook, only to let it languish with all the other ones on the kitchen shelf?

I flipped to a page that caught my eye. "Linguine with salmon and a white wine sauce". For anyone who has read this blog longer than a few weeks knows I am not the greatest cook in teh world. In fact, my cooking, in younger years, consisted of the whip-swish of a cardboard box. I was that bad.

The great thing about this cook book, as opposed to the one that first lept from the shelf into my arms, is that it actually had food to go with the sauces it recommended. Better yet? The ingredients are your every day things that you either have or could easily get.

So when my husband called to say he was late (but on his way), I told him there might be a portion left over for him.

"Who stole my wife?" Is all he could say. He got home, ate the rest of the pasta, and almost needed a forklift to raise his jaw.

"Wow, babe. You're good."

The power of slow has taught me to delight in my own cooking. I really can do it.

So thank you, cook book #2, for making me look so good in the eyes of the man who thought I couldn't do much more than sling hash.

I owe you one.

Big time.

[Slow News] The Winter of Rest http://bit.ly/4GLEgD

[Slow News] Entering the Zone http://bit.ly/7TBQ1H

[Slow News] How to Delegate Household Chores http://bit.ly/4JUBRs

Flames of Red

This morning's red pierced our house like a flame. Nothing breathes the beauty of slow like sunlight bouncing off the Alps and onto the frost-nibbled grass tips in your backyard.

 

Transparent Dangling Carrot

It's no secret I'm an Alanis Morissette fan. Her gut-punching lyrics with a voice to match have been a source of great joy for me. She makes sense. Period.

One of my favorite lines in my all-time favorite song, Thank U, is "How bout them transparent dangling carrots..." We romp and stomp, running after the elusive kudo, only to find ourselves empty-handed at the end of the day.

It got me to thinking about incentives and what motivates people. Like the Little People who live with me. They are motivated not only by praise, but by the almighty Euro. Believe it or not, they have tapped into their own personal spending power. And it would make sense that they work for their lunch money instead of Mom and Dad handing it over to them whenever they like.

Because I have been overwhelmed by the size of our new house and all the housework that goes along with running a four-person household, I gathered my kidlets and had a meeting.

"We need to talk."

The kids got somber-serious. Oh no, I could read on their faces. Wonder if Mom found out how much candy we've hidden (and eaten) under the bed?

"I need your help."

The sound of elation, if there were one, sssssssssssed through the air.

"Sure!" they chimed. Eyes darted, a smile emerged.

"I am working on about eight projects simultaneously, including being a great mom and wife. How might you help me around the house to make things, um, a little easier on us all?" Us all in Mom-speak means, well, Mom.

They both raised their hands, like in school. A quick note to self to check the tone of my voice, then a Yes, you little boy, in the blue.

My son proudly suggested we make a list. He volunteered to keep the meeting's minutes. Dear daughter suggested how they might both make a little extra cash. Together we came up with eight things, including washing hands after bathroom visits (a, I'm not kidding, perennial issue in our house), sweeping the kitchen floor and taking out the recycling. We assembled a nice list, which dear son called "The Eight Golden Things about the Hohlbaum Family". We agreed to keep a running tab each month, with a payment at the end.

If all goes well, I may be a few Euros poorer, but my kids, and I, will be all the richer for it.

[Slow News] Yearning for the Asynchronous http://bit.ly/6rZLar