Happy December!

I'm trying to squeeze in a few posts while I have the time. It's the first of December and it is snowing.

Nothing makes snow more exciting that seeing the glee of one's children in seeing that snow. Joffre and Alec haven't seen any snow since last Christmas in Manitoba, and they are beside themselves!

Almost Done

Classes ended yesterday - I've completed my first term of law school! Now I have five exams and a paper standing between me and three weeks of vacation in Manitoba.

Law school is turning out to be a very "pushme-pullyou" - for those of you familiar with Dr. Doolittle - sort of experience. On the one hand, I'm learning loads of things factual, doctrinal, methodological, historical, and at an amazing pace, and I feel as though I'm retaining it and can apply it. On the other hand, I'm not getting all of it, and the penalty in an examination setting for overlooking an issue in a hypothetical fact pattern, or misstating a legal principle, is significant. The highest marks given are in the low-mid 80s, generally, and the bulk of the class scores between 70-80%, often with an average of 72-75%, and so in law school a person who really learns the material, and is capable of writing a decent exam answer under pressure with few errors, will receive a mark in the mid-to-high 70s - as will at least half of her classmates.

I've never simultaneously felt that I was doing so well, and doing as well as I can do, and also felt so average.

Diamonds Everywhere, Rainbows in the Air

I just overheard Joffre singing to himself - a catchy little tune that goes:

There's diamonds everywhere
rainbows in the air
rainbows and diamonds too
I love you
and I love you

I asked him if he made it up or if he heard it somewhere, and he told me that he heard it "when I was in your tummy, and just dreaming and dreaming and dreaming."

Awwwww!

The Apology

Well, dear readers (I know there are at least three of you), the time has come to apologize for my four-month-to-the-day absence. Here's what happened:

In July, I went to New Mexico for a lovely post-wedding (they got married, and then they had a celebration afterwards). Then my great-aunt had a brain aneurysm, from which she has recovered, and I realized how remiss I'd been on the family history project I'd undertaken and so I tackled that. We also had company come to visit in July, and by the time August rolled around I was worrying about childcare, working on the project, and trying to prepare for school. Then it was September - law school is a lot of work!! Keeping on top of the readings has been intense, and any time I'm not spending on school, I'm spending on family and home.

But I'm nearly two months into my studies, I've done four assignments, we've developed a routine, and I might be able to blog again for the next few weeks, until exam madness hits. Additionally, a friend from law school blogs, which has inspired me, and another friend tagged me in her blog and pointed out that I haven't updated in forEVER! And she sent me this:

My First Meme
Caveat: I don't usually do this kind of thing, and I invariably break the rules. Fortunately, sixty days of law school have prepared me for this - I now have contract law theory to back up my rebellion. For those of you who love My Cousin Vinny as much as I do, this is what we laywers call a "counter offer."

Amy tagged me to do my first meme!

Here are the rules which you must abide by if you are tagged.
1. Link to your tagger and post these rules.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself: some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post and list their names (linking to them). [this is the part I'm going to defy, so be ready]
4. Let them know they've been tagged by leaving a comment at their blogs.

Seven facts about Melania:

1) I wanted to be a forensic psychiatrist when I was in high school. I was probably the only sixteen-year-old girl in my town who saw The Silence of the Lambs and thought, "that would be a cool job." Then I took Chemistry and changed my mind.

2) Even before I had children, I would often bring the alarm clock into bed in my sleep and snuggle it, as though some warmth and cuddles would calm it back down. I woke up yesterday morning cradling the alarm clock.

3) The first time I slept through the night I was three-and-a-half, so I don't get to complain about my kids' sleep habits. They're waaay better than that.

4) I can say two things in Cree: "I love you" and "who cares." Not a good foundation for a dialogue.

5) I can clap my feet.

6) Little things like swirling leaves, or the smell of tomato plants, or overheard conversations taken out of context and seeming surreal, are all it takes to make me delirously happy.

7) There is exactly one thing that I wanted at age fifteen that I still want now, and that was/is a personal assistant.

And since I'm not that much of a non-conformist, I will tag someone:
Melanie - A polyglot PhD with a flair for patisserie, and . . . oh, I'm out of alliteration. She hasn't been blogging much lately, just like me!

Today's Moment of White-Hot Pride

Okay, it was yesterday's.

The bus driver printed off two extra transfers for my kids, who are too young to use bus tickets or need transfers. Obviously, this guy was tuned in to how left out little ones feel when they don't get a transfer, too!

Anyway, Alec - aged 2 - promptly said "thank you!" And the driver commented, "what good manners!"

I was so darned proud.

Easy Bein' Green

These photos were taken when the children were within two months of the same age. Joffre was around 23 months, and Alec 25.




Yes, I know, I'm shameless.

Harsh Truth

Just when you think it's finally safe to only carry one spare set of children's clothing around in your albatross - I mean diaper bag - it's not.

Scarecrow

I saw the oddest thing on the way to a friend's house today:



Yes, that's a baby doll, suspended and twisting in the breeze over a vegetable garden.

One assumes it must be quite effective at keeping the birds away. Lord knows it creeped me right out.

Feeding Hope

Alec keeps nurturing our fantasies of unbroken sleep by sleeping through - from time to time. He did it again two nights ago. Someday, I fervently hope, this will be the norm and not the exception . . .

Death and Good Omens

So, I've been re-reading Good Omens, written by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. Both Pratchett and Gaiman have written Death as a character in their solo careers, and here they are, respectively:



The Death that figures in Good Omens is more along the lines of the former, Grim Reaper type, as he is one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. And that sort of makes sense.

I do wonder, however, if there was some debate over which Death to use. Because the one that ended up in Good Omens really seems like Pratchett's handiwork. He even talks in ALL CAPS.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

The latest stage in the toilet training (entirely on him, I'm not pushing it):

1: fill diaper
2: realize diaper has been filled
3: go to bathroom alone, remove pants and diaper alone
4: attempt to climb onto toilet alone (usually achieved with the help of a stool)
5: call Mom

It's hard to get upset, even when faced with such an unspeakable mess, with someone who's so cute, and who's trying so hard.

Serenade

This morning I was treated to the following musical extravaganza:

-Spiderman, spiderman, itza, itza, spiderman . . .
-EEE-I-EEE-I-OHHHHH!
-No! Spiderman, spiderman -
-EEE-AAAIII-EEE-IIII-OOOOOH!

et cetera.

And: a b c d e f g h i j k eleneno p, q r s, p u b, w x y and zed!

Doin' Good, Feelin' Good

We joined the CAN - Cooperative Auto Network. This is a vehicle co-op, where you pay a flat fee to join (reimbursable when you leave), and then pay a small monthly fee and mileage costs to drive vehicles in the pool. So far it's working pretty well, although because of booking vehicles late, Aaron has had to bus to pick up the vehicle, and then bus back after dropping it off. But it has been nice to have the option to drive from time to time - well, for him to drive, anyway.

And the coolest thing about the minivan we had is . . . built-in car seats! The backs of the middle bank of seats fold down to reveal five-point-harness restraints, good for 20-50 lbs of kid (mine, at 30 and 46 lbs, fit perfectly). No lugging our car seats in and out, no fussing with installation, nothing. Now that's convenient!

Must . . . Not . . . Laugh!!

The kids were having a snack at the table today while I cleaned up the kitchen. All of a sudden, Alec said, "Look, Mommy!" I turned and looked at him, and he had a peanut-buttery Ritz cracker stuck to each cheek. I would have taken a picture, but I really didn't want to encourage him.

It was darned cute, though!

Moments of Insight

One doesn't usually think of a preschooler as possessing a great deal of perspective, or long-term vision. So I was surprised the other day when Joffre came down the stairs and said, "Mom, some day, we will move to a different new house, and then this will be our old house. Like our house in Peru is our old house now."



At the aquarium today, they had a case full of poles or ledges where row upon row of chrysalises in varying stages of development hung. Some had butterflies sitting on them, newly emerged, and two or three butterflies were flitting around the case.

Like this:


It was with glee that I called Joffre over and began to explain the process to him. He interrupted me and said, "Mom, those butterflies come out of the capullos," and made a little pod with his hands. I asked him what they were before they went into the capullos, and he pondered for a minute before his eyes lit up and he whispered conspiratorially "cat-er-pill-ers!" Capullo, I have learned, means "cocoon" in Spanish.

Eventually They Will Break Your Heart

Because shouts of "you're not my mom!" or "I don't love you anymore!" fail to soften my stony heart, I thought I was immune to the careless stings that children inflict. I was wrong.

Last week, Joffre asked me: "Mom, you made me in your tummy?" And I said yes. And he thought about this for a little while, and then asked, hesitantly, politely, "and . . Mom? You just want to make me with one ear not hear good?"

All I could do was try to explain that mommies don't plan or control how babies are made, and that sometimes things just get made a little bit differently, and there's no controlling or managing that. I told him that we didn't know before he was born if he would have blue eyes or brown, or even if he would be a boy or a girl. He found this vastly amusing, and it diffused the tension.


Then today, after a busy morning at the aquarium, Joffre was grumping in the back seat (probably because he now wants to live at the aquarium). Out of nowhere, he asked, "Mom, why you wanted to grow two babies?" After a moment's consideration, I said, "I wanted you to have a baby brother or sister so you wouldn't get lonely." Aaron said, "how many do you think we should have had, Joffre?" To which Joffre starkly replied, "zero."

Ouch.

There's Just No Respect

Shouldn't there be an age limit on attitude problems? I mean, isn't 2 a little young to be refusing to call your mother "Mommy," and saying "Ain-ya" (Melania) instead? Or, when you are saying Mommy, to chant it over and over in the exact same tones that Dora the Explorer says "Swiper, No Swiping! - "Mommy, No Mommy! Mommy, No Mommy!"

*sigh*

And then the other day, when Joffre suddenly decided that the cup he was drinking out of was his brother's, and I said it was his, that Alec's was the red and yellow one, he replied, "I don't love you anymore." Surely such a declaration should be in response to a graver offense?

Today's Dose of Cute

Okay, that last one's of me and Steven.

I've Become "That" Parent

Okay, there are thousands of "that" parents. I've become the one that has kids with Food Issues (nut allergy in the case of Joffre, horrible reactions to whole wheat {upon which I won't elaborate} in the case of Alec). I had hoped to avoid it, but the threat of anaphylactic shock, or at least unspeakable diapers, changed all that.

I've also become the parent who sees other parents doing unfathomable things in public, and tut-tuts - occasionally audibly. Like the mother with a boy of about four or five at Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End (swashbuckling horrors abound). And that's not the worst of it: it's bad enough to take little tiny children to see Pirates of the Caribbean, but to take them to Constantine? As I wrote in another blog after seeing Constantine in 2005:

"Constantine is a violent, scary movie. There are nasty demon possessions, violent exorcisms, people's faces melting off, graphic wrist-slashing images, grotesque shape shifting, death-by-having-flies-pour-out-of-one's-mouth-nose-and-eyes . . . oh, and a man forcibly drowns a woman. On top of all the usual flamethrowers, guns, and bloody, vicious fist fights. But, hey, that didn't stop the people two rows up from us from bringing their little kids to the movie. The children looked to be about 7 and 5 years old. The younger one spent the movie in her mom's lap, hiding her face, and at some point she dozed off. I saw the father reassuring the older one a few times. There was no crying, or anything, but for God's sake!! Who takes their little children to a movie like that??? Sure, these kids have probably been inoculated by having watched violent television since birth, but still. It took effort on my part not to walk up and comment. Not that it would have done any good."

And I finally succumbed, after the 547,621st "why?", to saying "because I said so!!"

Portrait of a Procrastinator

Friend who has completed law school: So, how do you feel about the 100% exams in the spring?

What I said: Well, I think all you can do is learn for the sake of learning, of really knowing your stuff, and treat the exam as the chance to prove what you know. I mean, all exams (and assignments) add up to 100% anyway, right? I suppose it becomes harder to gauge how you're doing, but again, if you're really applying yourself, I think you'll have a good sense of how you're doing, just from how well you understand and navigate the material.

What I thought: Cool! No December exams!!

EDIT: It turns out that there are December exams - but they don't count for anything. Like a dry run.

Just Try Not to Think Too Hard About It

Children's programming is bizarre when filtered through the lens of adulthood. There's something about a pleasant, robust male voice saying, "I thought you had the chinchillas - the mayor's not going to be too happy about this" that makes my brain hurt.

And don't get me started on Boobah. Brrr.

Luckily/Unluckily

There's an old storytelling exercise where the players contribute each sentence in turn, always alternating "luckily" and "unluckily" as opening words. Like this:

Unluckily, the man fell out of the apple tree.
Luckily, he landed on a pillow.
Unluckily, the pillow was sitting on top of a picket fence.

And so on. Or, in the case of my day:

Luckily, Alec has decided to embrace toilet training.
Unluckily, he doesn't like to tell me when he needs to go.
Luckily, he has learned to take off his own diapers.
Unluckily, this means he's bare-bottomed a lot of the time.
Luckily, he can climb a stool to get to the toilet by himself.
Unluckily, he doesn't always make it in time.
Luckily, I have really helpful kids who love to get involved in the cleaning up.
Unluckily, enthusiastic preschooler help in cleaning up messy poop off a carpet tends only to make the process far messier and more complicated.

And so on . . .

No Fool Like an Old Fool

I should really know better than to leave Alec unattended for any length of time, but Joffre was napping, and Alec was playing peacefully with toys, so I sat down to catch up on some emails. I had left the breakfast dishes on the table, as well as a box of foodstuffs from Peru. All of a sudden, I heard a 'clink' in the dining room, so I went downstairs to find Alec sitting at the table, happy as a clam, having a little snack. My two initial thoughts?

1: I'm so glad I can wash my dining room chairs with soap and water,
2: How can anyone have eaten a bowl of rice krispies with that much paprika on them?

Pink Again

Aaron brought home Disney Princess baby wipes:



The boys were thrilled.

When I Was Kid . . .

. . . Flintstone vitamins tasted waaaay better. Blech.

The Senseless Tyranny of Gendered Colours

Why are purple and pink girl colours? Why? Why can't boys like those colours??

According to Google Answers, up until the 1950s pink was not specifically for girls and blue for boys. In fact, the history I found quotes The Sunday Sentinal in 1914 and the Ladies' Home Journal in 1918 as recommending pink for boys and blue for girls. A further comment on that site points out that the researcher could not in fact find any such recommendation in the named issue of the LHJ.

Blue is of course the colour most strongly associated with the virgin Mary, and in the Middle Ages, blue was associated with true love and faithfulness. Apparently blue was commonly used for boys' school uniforms as early as the 17th century - not because there was any particular association between boys and blue, but because blue dyes were cheap. Blue sashes on Empire dresses were de rigueur at the beginning of the 19th century. Theodore Roosevelt's daughter Alice, born in 1884, famously wore a light grey-blue colour that became hugely popular, and was known as "Alice Blue."

Stories abound that pink was considered a masculine colour until the beginning of the 20th century. Whether or not this is true, both blue and pink were worn by boys historically. Less famous than Gainsborough's "Blue Boy" painting is its companion "Pink Boy."



Some point out that the Nazis use of the pink triangle to identify homosexuals indicates a link between pink and femininity by the 1930s.

We can surmise, then, that the stark delineation between blue for boys and pink for girls did emerge sometime in the early 20th century, for reasons historians seem unable to produce, and today is considered to be carved in stone. Oh, sure, girls can wear blue, if the clothing is girly enough, or the girl has long enough/styled enough hair, and men who follow the right sort of high fashion magazines can wear pink silk ties and shirts, but heaven forbid that your four-year-old son have his heart set on Dora the Explorer running shoes:


Or hot pink soup bowls. We bought the latter, but just couldn't bring ourselves to go for the former. We might as well draw a target on his back, at that point.

History is Made

Let it be known that on Saturday, June 2nd, 2007, at the age of 2 years, 2 weeks, and 2 days, Alec James Gunson slept through the night. Then he did it again on June 4th.

There is hope.

Damage Control

Unfortunately, I am one of those parents who is guilty of occasionally swearing in front of her children. I don't mean to, of course, but sometimes it just slips out. Unsurprisingly, Joffre has recently said "dammit!" a couple of times. We had a big discussion about how dammit was a bad word, how Mommy shouldn't say it either, etc.

The next day, Joffre and Alec were playing roughly with something, and I told them to play gently so it wouldn't get damaged. Right away Joffre said, "Mom! You said dammit!!" So, I went into a huge explanation about what damage means, how it's not the same word as dammit, and how dammit is a bad word but damage isn't.

Two days later, Joffre got frustrated and yelled "dammit!" I said, "Joffre! We don't say that word! Remember, it's a bad word!"

"No, Mom," he replied. "I just said damage."

Wonderful News!

I got a Law Foundation Scholarship for $6000. I am, of course, thrilled, especially considering that tuition is going to run me well over $9000 per year, not counting other university fees.

Dawn of the Camera Phone

I've always sworn there was no need to have a camera in your phone. I mean, really. What's the point of a phone that takes pictures of lousy quality? Why, to have a camera at hand at all times (since I'm never without my cell phone), to snap impromptu pics of my kids and - because the quality's lousy - have small .jpg files to upload to blogger, or email to family.

That's why.

And man, am I using it.

Taking Shameless Advantage . . .

. . . to show off how cute they were at bathtime on an otherwise extremely challenging day:

Where We Live Now

I like it here. It's designed around families. It's green, safe, welcoming, and full of interesting things for children to do, with a minimal amount of parental involvement. (not that I'm lazy, but, ya know).

There are lots of playgrounds in the complex:


And all the roads through the complex are pedestrian, so the kids are free to run around as they please:

Shoot Me Now

Yeah, we're sick again. With the mother of all cold/flu viruses, this one combining sinus and bronchial congestion with a sore throat, ear trouble, and just to round it out, tummy trouble as well. The only thing worse than parenting sick kids is trying to do it when you yourself are sick.

Blech.

Goodbye, Sweet Baby's Breath

The other night, Alec single-handedly polished off every sliver of garlic remaining in the pan after dinner. The next morning I awoke to . . . garlic breath! Coming out of my two-year-old! Sometimes being a foodie has its price . . .

Why I'm Not Writing About Law School

Because I'm not in law school yet, of course! I feel like this blog is all about the kids, but trust me that will change - once I'm doing anything that isn't all about kids.

Hair Saga

Caveat: only read this if you actually want to hear all about my hair.

You know how sometimes we make ridiculous, insane hair decisions? Well, last September I got my hair permed because a friend of mine had done so, and I loved her hair. Except, of course, that my friend is Japanese, and so has totally different hair than I do. Despite my insistance upon a loose, ringlet-style curl, using large rollers (note: I know almost nothing about hair styling, and probably was asking for something impossible), my stylist insisted that she knew what she was doing and used little tiny rollers. So, I ended up with a tight kinky wave. Almost like crimped hair. And super, super frizzy. Oh, and the first 2.5 inches of hair, from the scalp down, didn't take the curl because it was new growth after my last colour. And the stuff that *did* take the curl turned a brassy colour after the perm.

Yeah. I went through many months of carefully attempting to fix my hair every day, with mixed results. I cut my hair once in that time - I wanted to cut off most of the curl, but I knew that if my hair was short, what was left with curl would turn me into a puff-ball. I did colour a couple of times, to tone down the brassiness. By the end of it all, the last few inches of my hair was ugly and dry. Then there was the fact that the perm relaxed unevenly, meaning I had portions of stick-straight hair, lots of frizzy-but-not-curly hair, and areas of beautiful wave. Blech.

So yesterday I went and got my hair cut. It's still got a bit of wave to it, and now it's a sort of long bob, or pageboy cut. Of course, I made the dreadful error of not asking the hairdresser the price of the cut ahead of time, and so shelled out $27 for a cut I had to fix up with fingernail scissors later, at home.

So, to sum up: never, ever, ever perm your hair. Also, don't assume a haircut will be cheap just because the hairdresser works in a dive and gives shoddy haircuts. And, finally, remember that time heals all haircuts.

Don't Even Think It . . .

. . . should be the catchphrase of every parent. For instance, last night after a long day of playing, eating out, and little napping, I thought, "well, they'll drop like flies tonight!"

Never, ever think that. Not even deep down in the secret recesses of your heart. Bedtime last night was a whole lot of fighting, crying, yelling (on their parts, not ours), and general nastiness, that left us staring glassy-eyed at the wall once it was over.

OCD, or just normal preschoolers?

Alec can't handle broken food. As in, heaven help you if you break a granola bar in half. This morning he tore his toast, and insisted that I repair it before he could continue eating.

Joffre has to close every open gate we encounter while out walking. Last night at the restaurant, he went around to every unoccupied table, pushing in the chairs so they were even. It's like living with a pint-sized Monk, with less crime-solving.

Our House

This is our student family residence:




I'm not leaving till they kick us out.

Food, Glorious Food

We went out, with the kids, to celebrate our eighth anniversary last night. We went to the Chinese restaurant in the University Village, and had peking duck. They loved it. Every time Joffre took a bite of lettuce wrap, his eyes rolled back in his head in delight. Alec was dipping duck fat in hoisin sauce like a trooper. Joffre insisted on raw green onion in his mushu pancakes.

I'm so glad they're foodies!

This Can't Have Happened . . .

Last night Alec kept pointing at his sippy cup and saying something unintelligible. I looked at the cartoon picture on the cup and said, "si! Es un leon!" To which he replied, "no es leon, es diboo-hoh!" I said, "es dibujo?" "Siiii!"

Translated, the conversation went like this: "yes! That's a lion!" "No a lion, a drawing!" "A drawing?" "Yeeees!"

My two-year-old didn't just tell me a cartoon lion was not a lion, but a drawing . . . did he??

Mondays Suck

I know, it's Tuesday, but yesterday was a holiday so it counts as a Monday. And preschoolers don't understand about Mondays. By the time the weekend is over, they've forgotten that Daddy ever had a job, so they wake up begging for Daddy and furiously betrayed when they find that he is gone. And it just goes downhill rapidly from there.

What the Kids are Like

I don't know, somehow I feel like giving a little profile, a little sketch of each of the children . . .

Joffre, age 4
Has a seemingly limitless need for cuddles and affection.
Tends to be distracted almost as a default condition.
Tunes out the rest of the world at the drop of a hat.
Loves mazes, puzzles, numbers, and maps.
Can do basic addition and subtraction, and independently began exploring multiplication ("Mom, how much is three eights?")
Asks existential questions, like "Mom, are we real?"
Speaks to Alec almost exclusively in Spanish.

Alec, age 2
Loves to sing, putting wild dynamics into his songs.
Scolds and lectures in babble.
Loves to draw.
Has a huge vocabulary in English and in Spanish.
Lately begins every sentence with "maybe, quizas."
Asks "why?" all the time.
Tends to bite unexpectedly.
Flirts impishly when trying to get away with murder.

Like any kids, they could probably live on waffles, cereal, and hot dogs, but unlike most kids they're game to eat almost anything. Joffre still won't eat fruit, and Alec doesn't like raw vegetables, but they are both addicted to olives, sushi, dim sum, fried onions, and every kind of sauce, dressing, or topping available.

Today's Moment of White-Hot Pride

Joffre can read!! Well, not really. But there I was, reading my book, and he leaned in over my shoulder and said, "Mom, I can see two 'ofs' in your book." And, sure enough, the word 'of' appeared twice on the page! Then he spotted 'up' as well. So, maybe I should redouble my efforts to teach him to read.

He has also taken to telling his younger brother little stories he makes up, which is pretty sweet.

Back on the Wet Coast

Well, we got here Monday. I have a cold, so as the plane landed in Vancouver, my ability to hear dwindled to almost nothing. It's getting better, but still not good. Several weeks - months? - of exhaustion fell on my head as soon as stepped through the door of my new, permanent home (well, as permanent as makes no nevermind), and I'm just now beginning to emerge from under that, as well.

I love the apartment. It's really a two-storey house, with a decent kitchen, small dining room, big living room, 1.5 baths, and 3 good-sized bedrooms. Storage is reasonable, especially because we have a large storage room immediately adjacent to our door. We also have a nice patio that looks out onto a green space, and we inherited a barbecue from the previous residents. Once our furniture and the bulk of our possessions come from Peru and Manitoba, we will have a real grown-up home.

Of course, it was sunny for the first few days we were here, but now it is gloomy and rainy. But I don't mind. I'm taking it pretty easy for now, getting my bearings, getting the kids settled in, and looking forward to summer. The wonderful thing about how we've timed all of this is that we've gone from South American summer to Canadian spring, and now we're heading right back into summer.

Man, winter's going to be a blow.

A Perfect Example of the Title of this Blog . . .

. . . suddenly, we are cat-owners-by-proxy. Which is to say, our housekeeper's son took in a stray kitten, and I've taken some responsibility for it, dealing with vet care and so on, and letting it stay at our house during the day, when there's nobody home at their house. But these things snowball (guess what Joffre named the kitten?), and I have a feeling the shift of ownership is going to be inevitable. The kids are totally smitten, and it's heartwarming to see how loving and caring they are with the little guy.

But we can't take a kitty back to Canada with us.

I want a kitty.

sigh . . .

Uighur Nan Recipe

This is a bread I truly love. You have to cook it on a pizza stone or on the back of a cookie sheet in the oven at the highest heat you have - around 500 degrees.

Ingredients:
1.25 cups warm water
1 tsp sugar
1 tsp yeast
1/2 Tbsp salt
3.5 cups (approx) white flour

Garnish:
rock salt
chopped green onion
caraway seeds
cumin seeds

Mix the sugar with the water and sprinkle the yeast overtop. Once the yeast is nice and foamy, add the salt and flour and mix and knead till you have a nice elastic dough. Cover, but don't oil, and leave to rise for about an hour in a warm place.

Punch dough down, knead briefly, and let rise again for about a 1/2 hour.

Have a bowl of water handy for the next bit.

Roll dough out into a long snake and cut into eight equal pieces. Put the pizza stone or cookie sheet in the oven, and turn it on to 500 degrees. Shape pieces of dough into balls and roll out into 8-inch rounds (note: I cannot for the life of me make these rounds round). Using a fork, punch many many holes in the centre of the rounds. The idea is to leave the edges to puff up while the middle is flat and cracker-like. Wash a bit of the water over the surface of the round, sprinkle with rock salt, and toss a bit of green onion and spices over the centre. Place as many nans on the pizza stone as will easily fit without touching, and let bake until puffy and golden. When the nan comes out of the oven, brush it with a bit of melted butter while still hot.

Serve with curries, kebabs, Middle Eastern salads - - - anything you like, really.

Vague Nod at Food Category

I used to post recipes occasionally in my old blog, and I think I'll start doing it again. I'm lousy at recipes generally, since I usually just cook by instinct, but there is the odd recipe that is worth talking about:

Mediterranean Lamb Stew
Ingredients:
5-6 cloves garlic
1/4 cup olive oil
2 Tbsp tomato paste
1 tsp hot pepper sauce
2 tsps cumin
1 tsp cardamom (optional)
1/2 tsp black pepper
1/2 tsp ginger powder or small amount grated fresh ginger
1 tsp salt
3-4 lamb chops (neck)
1/2 chicken boullion cube or 1/2 tsp bouillion powder
4 large carrots
1.5 cups chopped zucchini, eggplant, or other squash
1 diced onion
1 cup fava or garbanzo beans, or substitute chopped green beans
1 large handful diced parsley or fresh coriander
juice of 1 small lemon
1 cup of green olives (or figs, or apricots, or raisins)

In a food processor or blender, combine everything before "lamb chops" (or just crush garlic and mix thoroughly with the rest). Coat chops with this mixture and let sit for 20 minutes or so. Put chops in a deep pot on the stove over a very low heat, and heat for ten or 15 minutes. Add water to cover, carrots, squash, onions and beans, cover, and let simmer over extremely low heat for 2 hours. Feel free to adjust quantities to taste.

Once lamb is well cooked, remove from stew and bring remaining ingredients to a boil, to thicken and reduce liquid. Cool lamb slightly and strip meat from bones. If you like, you can put the meat under the broiler at this point to crisp it and brown it a bit. When stew is nearly ready, reduce heat and add lemon juice, coriander or parsley, meat, and olives or fruit. Cook until olives or fruit are thoroughly heated.

Serve with steamed rice, couscous, or quinoa and fresh bread with butter.

Serves 4, or two really hungry people. ;)

What I've Been Waiting For

I got an email last night telling me that I'd been accepted at UBC. Only two days earlier, I'd received word that they finally had my LSAT score and had forwarded my application on for review.

It feels so wonderful to have this over with, and just be looking forward to the next step. I feel like looking into picking up textbooks ahead of time so I can get studying before the school year starts. That's gotta be a good sign!

Oh, the Glitches . . .

So, I finally followed up on the file status issue. It turns out that they were under the impression that my LSAT was not to be taken until February. I cringe when I think of the office staff rolling their eyes at the twit who wants to know if her file is complete, when she hasn't even written the test yet . . .

So I emailed with my score and my LSAC ID number, but got no response. For five days. So I phoned and talked with an administrator who was very sweet and friendly but not at all helpful - basically she told me not to worry, and that my file was not complete but that everything would be fine.

Today I called the woman with whom I'd been emailing, directly, and asked her about it. She said that when they try to get my score from LSAC, they get a "results unavailable, future test date" message, or something to that effect. So, it looks as though the problem is on LSAC's end, not mine (as in, mistake on application), or on the university's. So, I guess that's good? She said she would look into it, took my SIN and LSAC ID again, and said she'd let me know what she digs up.

At least I'm on their radar now, right?

The Waiting Game

We've all been there. The work is done, the effort put in, the application complete, and now we just sit back and wait. And wait. And wait.

I have no idea when the school's acceptance committee meets, although I do know that people who had submitted complete applications in October (mine was complete then except for the LSAT score) got responses in December. So, if we're thinking a two-month gap for them, I might not hear back till the beginning of March, if not later.

And the waiting is already driving me crazy. I finally broke down and emailed yesterday to see if my application is complete (a thinly veiled plea that they not forget about me), but of course I haven't heard back yet. And won't, now, till the weekend is over.

*sigh*

That won't stop me from obsessively checking my email, though.

So Not on the Ball

I don't know what my GPA from my undergrad is. Oh, I know it's good - but I want to know the number itself. How, you might ask, does a person not even know her GPA? Well, undergrad is a long time ago. I have a copy of my transcript somewhere, but I don't know where. Of course, they don't want to just tell me the GPA over the phone or email; they want me to fax a request form and pay a fee so they can mail a copy of the transcript to me. This is really not necessary, since I don't want a breakdown of the whole thing, just the final average.

I feel really not on the ball, when someone asks my GPA and I have to say, "I don't actually know."

They Want Me!

Well, I'm not that impressed with emailed fee waivers for law school application anymore. But I've gotten two fee waiver packages in the mail - here in Peru - that made my day. The one I got from Golden Gate University was nice, but my numbers are way higher than even their 75th percentile. Today, however, I got one from the University of Virginia School of Law - which is ranked 8th in the USA!!

So, I'm all happy now!

Solicitations

One of the things I really wasn't expecting after getting my LSAT score back was the steady stream of emails from universities I've never heard of, inviting me to apply to their programs. Many of them offer a waiver of their fees if I choose to apply.

I'm flattered, or I was at first, but now I'm just frustrated because the one place I *want* to hear from has remained mum.

I'm considering contacting them and asking if my file is complete, which is just a backhanded way of saying, "do you want me? Have you made a decision? When will you make a decision? Don't forget about me!" Which is desperate, pushy, and lame. Plus, and this might be overthinking it, if I draw attention to myself, I make it clear that I really want to go there, which might mean they won't offer scholarships to entice me. They're the only school I applied to, but they don't know that - mightn't it be nice to be wooed?

Or is that a pipe dream?

169

Yay!!!! On December 23, I was informed that my score was 169. That's 97th percentile of all test takers, and it feels good.