Potatoes in the Mist

This is the fastest recipe ever, and just as good as it is quick: 1 can chickpeas, drained and rinsed 1/2 c water 1 can diced tomatoes with mild green chilies 1 tbsp minced garlic 2 tsp curry powder 1/2 tsp salt 1/2 c grated unsweetened coconut (although you can use the sweetened variety, too) 10 oz frozen chopped spinach Combine all ingredients in a large saucepan or soup pot. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to medium, cover and cook for 5 minutes. Break up the block of spinach with a fork, cover and cook for 5 more minutes. Stir well before serving. I like to serve it with jasmine rice. (from Lorna Sass's Short-Cut Vegetarian) In other news, E and I survived the pediatrician visit today. I ended up spending almost two hours in there, which was annoying. But he handled the blood test (every 1-year-old in NYC has to have a blood test, to check for lead) and the shots better than expected. I forgot the Tylenol, so initially I was worried. But he only cried briefly, becau

So I am back in NYC after almost two weeks. What started as a simple trip to celebrate E's birthday with my family changed when 2 of my aunts died within a week of each other. One aunt was on my mom's side, age 81; the other was on my dad's side, just a week shy of her 93rd birthday. At my Aunt M's funeral, I did the first reading, and E was fascinated by the church music. However, he did a loud raspberry at the end of one of the priest's statements. Both deaths were expected, but sad nonetheless. We came back to the new apartment and it did still smell a bit like paint. But we opened all the windows and the air seems fresher now. E is truly knocked out - he fell asleep sans bath or fresh diaper. (Note: it's not that unfresh; his poop of the day (POTD) is already behind us. So at most, he has a little pee in there.) I have to take him to the pediatrician on Thursday. I haven't been there since January. I'm not really looking forward to it. I dislike goi

So I have an ARC coming my way from LibraryThing.com. A fellow from the publisher left a comment for me at LibraryThing on June 5, saying he had just mailed it. We went to Massachusetts on June 12, and ended up extending our stay. As of June 12, the book had not yet arrived. Typically it comes right to your door. I was diligently checking both the old apartment and the new (they are all of three blocks apart). No dice. So I hope when I get back to New York, it will be sitting outside the new apartment. If not, I have to go to the old apartment and check with the next-door neighbor, who just might have taken it under her wing. You may ask: which address did LibraryThing have? I changed my address to reflect the move before I got the email from the publisher. So I assume he had the right address. But you never know.

So when D and I moved, we went a little further away from the heart of the action. I thought I'd like being on a quieter street. I do like it, but find myself missing the sociality of my old building. Of course, I don't miss the porter. He used to get in my face and yell, "WHEN YOU MAKE ANOTHER?" (which means: "When are you having another child?") He had nine children or something, but was not in regular contact with most of them. But there are a number of people I miss from the old building: Abu and his father. Abu was a fluffy Pomeranian who got a short haircut for the summer. Pinocchio and his father. Pinocchio is a dachshund who joined the building 6 years ago. A woman and her dachshund. She doesn't actually live there, but visits her mother in the building. Her mother doesn't know she has a dog. This woman loves, loves, loves E. A guy who always says, "My friend!" when he sees E.

Well, we're moved in, but it's not entirely pretty. It's like a molting larva in its cocoon, I think...not quite finished. The apartment itself is lovely, but it's full of boxes and STUFF. Even after my extensive closet cleaning, there are things I never knew we had (they must have predated me). Hopefully E will sleep well tonight in his new surroundings. He just discovered a bit of Velcro underneath a cabinet door, ripped it off and is playing with it. Our move got interrupted. One of the rules of our co-op (I'm sure there is a rule book somewhere, as long as the OED or Encyclopedia Britannica) is that you have to be done moving in by 5. We got permission to go till 5:30. But there are still 25 boxes left to be moved in. In other high jinks, the movers had to temporarily remove the door to our old apartment, in order to get the refrigerator through.

The moving process has begun! I'm camped out at my SIL's apartment, feeding E bits of orange and watching him have a blast with SIL's exercise balls. D is supervising the movers, who are all wearing cheery orange shirts. I wondered if they make one in a baby size, but I didn't ask. They were upbeat and cheerful when they came in, and then they clicked into action. Faster than you could say, "Where's the crap?", it was all packed away. SIL has a gorgeous view of the Hudson River. I had a horrible night's sleep, due to electrical repairs taking place on the street not far below our windows (very noisy, and E woke up AFTER it stopped - maybe he was like, "Where's my backdrop?"). When I woke up, the bags under my eyes -- you could put groceries in them. But now I feel more awake and hopeful. Our new apartment is on a much higher floor (almost at the top of the building) so we shouldn't hear much street noise. And hopefully we won't se

So tomorrow we are moving. The painting is done: a light buttery/lemony yellow for the living room and kitchen; "creme brulee" for the hallway and master bedroom; and a hint of "bashful blue" at the end of the hall (E's bedroom). I still can't believe it. I've been living in this apartment for ten years, and although we have definitely outgrown it, I will miss it. Tomorrow, the moving company will come to pack, move and unpack us - promising to be done by 7 pm. Over the past couple of weeks, I've cleaned the closets intensively, but I still feel like we have so much CRAP. What can you do? And the moving company is called Schleppers - how New York is that?

So today is E's birthday. I know it's ridiculous, but I feel like he's growing up too fast. I remember reading in the No-Cry Sleep Solution how the sleepless nights would later take on a "romantic haze" in recollection. I thought: Yeah, right. But I can see what they mean. Soon he'll be a toddler...then he'll have a girlfriend...then he'll go off to college...I can see what the empty nesters get upset about.