The Phoenix: Epicuriousmothering Rising

George is dead. Piper's frog is draped like a tragic figure over a hard cold rock, his sightless eyes causing me no end of grief. I killed him. I did. I forgot to buy his crickets and he went a whole week without eating. The worst is that while he was slowly starving to death, I've never eaten so well in my whole life. Thanksgiving . . . sob sob sob . . . not for George. Finnegan comforted us during dinner as Piper's eyes filled with tears, his voice soft and sweet, "Listen, Piper, he had a good last life.  He ate a big cricket and had a clean cage with clean water.  It isn't soooo bad.  It's a good last life." Bah. Honestly. While I was vacuuming and trying hard to NOT look at George in his cage (because there was NO WAY I was going to touch his tiny dead at my hands corpse), I began playing my favorite game of all,   Let Me Count the Ways I'm Failing as a Mother . Oh, I am a master at this game. A GENIUS really. There I was ...

Here are some photos of the last few weeks: Finn in his Tiger costume Piper as the cat (aka a girl version of Toby) and Finners My people listening to Finn read I caught Piper walking down the hallway at school and couldn't help but take a photo of her.  Yes, she dresses herself . . . every single day. Henry working on his Eagle project at home (he got dressed to make a phone call). Celia in her support roll as Mummy with Grandma and Grandpa Thomas Finn eyeing the remains of pie crust cookies. And now . . . tis the season of Pies. I love pie.  John loves pie.  All our kids love pie.  And so, we make a lot of pie around these parts.  For years I didn't make pies because I was totally afraid of the crust making part.  They're terrifying really.  Until I watched my younger sister-in-law make a crust.  She was fearless.  She cut in the shortening, poured in the water and wahlah! A perfect easy to rol...

First, let's get one thing straight.  Croissants make my eyes cross with joy.  I love them.  If given the chance, I can polish off six of them in one sitting.  This is why I never buy them.  Well, almost never.  Tonight I folded and I've been very loudly making my way through several.  Thank you French Pastry Chefs for making my life by creating these flaky buttery concoctions. Ok, now that that's out of the way, here's the thought for the day:  I don't have to do anything, be anything, wear anything or say anything I don't want to. I know, crazy, huh?  You all know this already, right?  Well, at 37, I just barely ran straight smack into this fact and HAZZAH! my life is  . . . well,   I am  amazed and filled with wonder.  My friend told me this would happen (thank you Nancy), but I didn't believe her.  So I'm here to tell you, all you anxious, worried, thinking you're not quite enough young women, you'll wake...

One day!  I only posted for one day and then I missed. Oh well. I hav five minutes to tell you a new recipe and give you a thought. I can do this. First recipe: Indian Curry (via Jayne with a twist via me) go to the grocery store and buy Pataks Milk Curry Paste (every grocery store in the world pretty much sells this stuff).  Follow the directions on the back (you'll need on onion, chicken, and a one can of diced tomatoes). Then, after you have your chicken and curry sauce simmering add: 1 small potato chopped in to small bite size pieces 2 carrots chopped up into small bite sized pieces 1/4 cup of raisins 1 tbsp sugar Then let it simmer for 25 minutes covered (cook the basmati rice during this time--and really basmati makes ALL the difference in making everything taste indian). Then uncover and add 1/2 c peas 1/3 c heavy cream Then serve over rice. It's delicious! I serve it with warmed pita bread that I've buttered and garlic-ed.  Double...

I'm in bed.  It's 9:27pm and I think perhaps I couldn't be happier. Tonight when we were all sitting around the table talking about the best things that happened to us today, I couldn't come up with a fast response.  John smiled and said, You're best thing hasn't happened yet, right? Nope. Phoebe said, Mine sure hasn't.  The best thing that happens to me each day is I get to get into PJs and climb into bed. Oh, yes, she may look exactly like John (girl version), but she's definitely my daughter sleep/bed wise. So tonight after my day was over (and yes, I did vote), I just climbed into bed and the best part of my day is beginning.  And no, I'm not avoiding the elections because frankly, I'm ok either way.  I know, how could I be?  Well, I just am. But enough of politics. Here is a poem I found today that made me stop, completely stop, and breath and fall in love with words all over again. William Eggington quote this poem in his ar...