Sad Tummy

Tiernan came and reported to me, "I dave Miss da rest of da hot chockwit, tuz my tummy is sad."
 

"Your tummy is sad?" I asked, sympathetically. "Why is that?"
 

Tiernan explained his palms up in front of his chest, "Um, tuz it dust yikes juice an' wateh an' evie-sing."

My Fruit Flies

We have had some banana bunches from our local produce co-op that do not like to ripen.

It seemed that for several weeks in a row, we had received green bananas that never yellowed, and we eventually had to toss them.

Sometime in late June, I had decided to place the latest bunch in a large paper sack with an apple, and set it on top of our chest freezer in the kitchen, where the warm sun shines through the windows.

When we went away on vacation in early July, I cleared out most of our perishables from the refrigerator, and looked around to see if anything else needed to be addressed. I looked briefly to see where the banana bag was, but not seeing it on the chest freezer, assumed that the bananas had met the same fate of their predecessors: tossed.

A few weeks after returning from vacation, we started to find fruit flies around the kitchen. First a few, then more, then finally, a swarm. A swarm, yes, which arose when Colin accidentally dropped something behind the chest freezer.

Eeeew.

I gagged as I cleaned up not only the mushed banana and rotten apple, but also the maggots that had gathered on the bottom of the bread flour sack, which had become wet with fruity rot.

Then I endeavored to create complicated "fail-safe" traps in order to catch and rid the kitchen of fruit flies, by several methods researched online:

~red wine vinegar in a jar with pierced plastic wrap over it

~red wine vinegar and sliced fruit in a bowl with pierced plastic wrap over it

~red wine vinegar in a bottle with a funnel leading into the mouth ... then with pierced plastic over it.

I finally discovered, much to my dismay, that the fruit flies were very fond of my kombucha, brewing in a large glass jug in my cupboard. Reluctantly, I pulled down the container and placed it atop the chest freezer, stretched some plastic wrap over the top, and pierced tiny holes in the wrap. The result was the most successful of all fruit fly trap attempts.

Of course, my children were watching all of my crazy designs and experiments. They're always watching.

Tiernan confided to his father, this evening during their bedtime chat, "Dadoo, Mama WEEwy yikes tatchin’ fwuit fwies."

Early Counting

During any baking project, I always count out loud when I have to add more than 2 units of an ingredient. It helps me keep track of where I am, since I am easily distracted, and often forget whether I actually added the unit, or just said it to myself. This method of hearing it said out loud minimizes errors of quantity.

I started counting out cups of flour today, "One...," 

Then I heard Colette's little voice behind me, "Two...free. Doe to room."

 
I guess she associates counting with Tiernan's time-out warnings.

Hmmm,

Inspired by a Book

The book is called French Kids Eat Anything, by Karen Le Billon.
It's got some great tips for parents of picky eaters, or for parents like myself who want to make sure their kids don't become picky eaters. 

Pureed Cauliflower Soup with Thai basil garnish didn't go over so well last night. 

However, penne with chopped Thai basil in "white sauce" was deemed delicious for lunch--especially after a full morning of swimming at the pool. 

What's that they say? Try, try again?

Ms. Le Billon has plenty to teach me.  :)

Ahhh, that plant

Tiernan, while using the hose to water the vegetable garden, "Mama, I'm dih-vin a lot of water to dis purple fwower. It's dunna be a tomato."

I turn from my weeding and look, "No, actually, that's an eggplant. The tomatoes are over here."

Tiernan, not to be discouraged, "NO! It's dunna have tomatoes AND eggs!"

Whatever it's called

I made a batch of granola this morning.

Tiernan's snack request was specific: "I want just jah-nola. No low-gurt."

...while Colette calls it “La-la.”