avablog

I wish I could’ve come up with a pithy title for this post.

Yesterday morning I noticed a bunch of weird orange…stuff on the ground in the park next to my office. I was about 150 yards away, so I couldn’t make it out very clearly. I figured if it’d been trash, someone would’ve come and picked it up, so I finally surmised that it was a big mushroom patch. At noon I went home to get my camera, and when I got back to the office I walked over to the park and took some pictures.

It’s very, very cool to see how excited Ava is getting about her birthday this year.  I think what’s neatest about it is that she’s not excited at all about any presents she might get (I’m not entirely sure she really understands the whole present thing yet), but that she can’t wait for her (not so) far-flung relatives to come and celebrate with her.  When she talks about her party, it’s like she enters some sort of trance in which she reels off the kind of cake she’s going to have, what color it will be, how she’ll ride the train at the park, and that Uncle Kevin will only get a “tiny piece” of cake (sorry, Uncle Kevin).  She has the guest list memorized, right down to my mom’s dog, Fritz, and “maybe Zoe, too.”  Zoe is a neighbor’s dog that my mom watches from time to time.

Last year Ava couldn’t have cared less about her party, it seemed.  She had a good time while she was there, but it’s uncertain whether she knew she was the center of attention (“Why is everyone watching me blow on this cake?”).  I’m very much looking forward to watching her interact with all her guests this weekend, and I’m particularly eager to see the look on her face when her pink cake is unveiled.  Maybe Uncle Kevin can sneak two tiny pieces….

There’s a box sitting on the floor in my garage that contains hard copies of just about every paper I wrote in college, complete with handwritten commentary from my classmates and professors.

It seems like I should empty it into the recycling bin on Friday, but I don’t know if I can muster the guts to actually do it.

This is an amazing story.  Via BoingBoing.

It’s incredible the way we (humans) are still stumbling around in this world, almost completely blind.

The Apple iTV, available Q107. Bah! Why does Steve hate me?

Sometimes I think Ava must be one of the most-photographed kids in the world.  An exaggeration, sure, but it seems I’m just as used to seeing her displayed on a small LCD as not.

Even with all the shots I’m taking at home, Leah still likes to have “professional” shots taken on milestones like birthdays and Easter.  Yesterday we took Ava to Sears for her two-year portraits.  For whatever reason, Ava was in a great mood.  She tolerated being handled by the strangers behind the camera, changing clothes, and being told to sit still.  She really appeared to be enjoying the process, which made it much easier for everyone involved.

As a result, Ava’s pictures turned out very nicely.  Much nicer, in fact, than any shots we’ve ever had taken at Sears’ competition in the local mall, Flash.  The photographers at Sears were much better at working with Ava, and they were just more fun to be around in general.  Very efficient (a tremendous quality in a photographer of toddlers).  Best of all, Sears costs less than Flash.  They don’t even put the screws to you at the review stage, when they’re trying to sell you all sorts of fancy borders and arrangements.

Those of you fortunate enough to have access to photos of Ava can see the results of yesterday’s shoot for yourself.  For the rest of you, well…life isn’t always fair.

This morning, Ava was lying in bed with us after she woke up.  She started tickling Leah and me, and then we started tickling her back.  I must’ve tickled her too hard, or something, because she said, “Stop, daddy!”  The she rolled towards me, pursed her lips, and said, “No, no, daddy!  You go on time out.”

“Really?” I said.  “For how long?”

“Three minutes,” Ava replied, without even a thought.  Well!  She’s really getting the hang of this time out stuff.

The Gerbera daisies and the big red box from Redenvelope. What could it be?

Detail shot of one flower in natural light.

Oooh! The bottom of a box! Thank you!

A jewelry box in rose-colored leather. “What’s this piece do?”

Who was it who came up with all these silly anniversary gifts?  I mean, it’s helpful to have some general areas to use in coming up with a gift idea, but tin anniversary?  Copper?  Are blacksmiths to blame for this hierarchy?  Diamonds and silver I can understand, but celebrating a second anniversary with some sort of cotton gift?  It’s like buying a suit for a three-year high school reunion.  What’s the point?

The three-year anniversary gift is leather (traditional) or crystal/glass (modern).  Leather, of course, opens up all sorts of interesting gift ideas, some of which even show up on your door wrapped in plain brown paper with a suitably anonymous return address.  Would a package of light bulbs count in the glass category?  We always need replacement bulbs, it seems.

As of this posting, I can’t reveal which way I went with this year’s gift for Leah (she could be reading this, after all).  I will say, however, that I’m very much looking forward to next year’s gift shopping: Fruit/flowers.  How easy is that?

How is it that even a three-day weekend can seem so short?  I don’t know that it was perceptually any longer than a standard two-day break.  Bah.  Whatever.  It was nice while it lasted.

Leah’s parents were in town Saturday and Sunday, and we took them out to the MacBride Raptor Project so we could all look at the injured birds.  Afterwards we enjoyed a picnic dinner on what was an absolutely gorgeous day.  We even stopped for ice cream on the way home.  It was a pretty full afternoon.  Sunday morning we drove down to the Amana Colonies and had a big fat family style breakfast.  Later on Sunday, the guy we’re hoping will do the work on our house addition stopped by to look at the place and talk over possible options with us.  He seemed excited about the project; now “all” we have to do is get a plan drawn up and get on his schedule as soon as possible.

Oh, also on Saturday I peeled a bunch of tomatoes, chopped some onions and fresh basil, and made some tomato sauce to freeze.  It tasted pretty good before I packed it away.  I can’t wait to pull some out at the end of January and enjoy a little taste of summer.

Tomorrow’s our wedding anniversary.  Three years.  Life can really run you over when you’re not looking.  And I’ve been run over.  By the love bus.

From one of our local papers today:

In Tuesday’s meeting, the Iowa City City Council will consider raising the fines for littering from $35 to $70 – a move that would bring the city’s penalties in line with state fines.

I hope this passes. I don’t hope it enough to go and represent my views at a 16-hour-long city council meeting, but I do hope it passes, as littering is a thing I hate. Two examples of the kind of wanton littering I’ve seen in my very own neighborhood: [Read more →]

Amazing news from the field of cancer research today.  From The Wall Street Journal:

For the first time in the history of treating cancer, gene therapy has apparently succeeded in shrinking and even eradicating large, metastatic tumors.

The therapy worked in only two of 17 patients who were treated. But many researchers are hailing the study, which was published Thursday in the online edition of Science, as groundbreaking because it provides compelling evidence in human patients that gene therapy can be effective against one of the toughest challenges in medicine: terminal cancer.

I have family and friends who’ve battled this disease, some of whom have actually won.  Any news that any treatments at all have been even the least bit effective in treating cancer is exciting news.

I was thinking just now that this is one of the things that makes having children so exciting: The possibility that Ava might someday see a cure for cancer in her lifetime.  A cure that might even save her life or the life of someone she loves.  It’s heady stuff.  She’s going to see so much over the next decades.  A lot of it will be bad, odds are, but there’s bound to be plenty of good, too.  I can’t wait to see the contributions she makes to the world.  If she can bring to others even half the joy she’s brought to my life, she’ll change the course of history.

Our anniversary is coming up, and we’ve decided to have a night out.  Rather than hit one of the local restaurants for dinner, we’re going to motor down to Washington, IA, to dine at Cafe Dodici.

I’ve not eaten there, but friends who have rave about it.  Looking at their menu, I see nary an item I’d not entertain for a meal.  Particularly enticing are the “Tuscan tray” appetizer, Il Pastore Perso pasta, and the pistachio-encrusted lamb.

Leah’s excited because the woman who runs the place has a problem with garlic (like Leah does), so the items on the menu contain no (or very little) garlic.  How you run an Italian restaurant without garlic is a mystery I’m eager to unravel come the 8th.

Leah’s convinced that our great little house is going to be too crowded if we can manage to have another child. Maybe she’s right. I like to point out that the 97-year-old woman who sold Leah the house raised two sons there with two bedrooms and one bath, but Leah says, “that was then; this is now.”

So we had my brother the architect over the other day to talk about plans and take some measurements.  I fed him gazpacho and porter in exchange for his time.  Our very base requirement is that we get another bedroom and one more bath into the design somewhere (raising the roof has been mentioned as a possibility). We’d like very much to maintain the home’s original charm and asthetic through this process, which shouldn’t be so difficult. We have a wish list, too, of things we’d love to have, time and money permitting.

We’ve set up a meeting with the bank on Saturday, and I’ve already called one builder to see if we might fit into his schedule anytime in the near future.  It’s entirely possible that either of these two parties could crush our fledgling dream, in which case I suppose we’ll think about moving.  Someday.

(We love our house.)

I’m lamenting in advance for the disappearance of the fantastic tomatoes that’re all over the place right now. In addition to all the other ways there are to enjoy this fruit, new to me this year were these little chips:

Dried tomato slices. And oh my, are they delicious. Imagine crossing a sun-dried tomato with a potato chip. Or a piece of beef jerky and a tomato. You get the idea. There’s a guy who sells them at our local farmer’s markets. I don’t know exactly how he does it, but I suspect it’s nothing fancier than a home dehydrator. And not only are they tasty, they’re darn nice to look at, too.

Leah and I need a new phone. I was on the fence for a while on the issue, but last night I saw the light at last.

We got a call from Leah’s sister, and I went to push the “talk” button on the phone. This button has been getting more and more difficult to push lately, and last night I just couldn’t get it to engage. So I missed the call. Not a huge deal, since Leah and her sister talk at least three times a day, and I knew they’d connect sooner or later. But I’d finally had it with the phone. I got the button pushed just in time to hear Rachel hang up, and in frustration I took the phone in my hands and pulled an Incredible Hulk move on it. I then set the phone on the table, stood back, and laughed. Then I got my camera and took a picture, of course.

Our new phone will be here Wednesday.

It’s a pretty interesting thing to undergo a life change so profound that it causes all the memories of your “old” life to wither and fade. I guess that’s an understatement. It’s safe to say, I think, that Leah and I have embraced our new life with Ava (well, relatively new, still, after two years) and don’t really miss the days of old. Too much.

Still, it’s nice to get our by ourselves once in a while. Stop being “mommy” and “daddy” and enjoy some time with each other. Which is what we did last night, with the babysitting assistance of my mother. We had initially talked about going to one of our old haunts, Givanni‘s, for dinner, but at the last minute decided instead to make reservations at Devotay. It was a good choice.

We ended up having selections from the tapas menu rather than picking full-on entrees. Leah ordered the caprice salad and quesadillas with a glass of Malbec, and I had the smoked trout mousse, aceitunas (grilled olives), and albondigas (bison meatballs) with a couple glasses of sangria. Man. Good stuff.

For dessert I chose the poached pear with bleu cheese and walnuts, which I’d had before loved, and Leah got the apple tart. I ordered a glass of the Wallace Winery port with the pear, which I have an unopened bottle of at home. I’ve tried one of Wallace’s reds and was impressed, especially considering the grapes are grown in the middle of corn and soybean country 10 miles outside of Iowa City. The port was lighter-bodied than I’m used to, but not “refreshing” by any means. It was a real treat and a perfect match for the pear. I can’t wait to open my bottle with Kevin and Rachel over some dominoes sometime soon.

I have tomatoes.  Onions.  Peppers.  Cukes.  Olive oil.  I can get parsley and garlic.  And I have a food processor for mixing it all up.  So I’m looking for recipes.

My mother-in-law makes a good version following a modified Cook’s Illustrated recipe (modified mostly to exclude garlic, which Leah can’t eat).  It goes a little something like this:

1.5 .lb tomatoes
1 .lb red peppers ( I used green which R says isn’t as good)
1 .lb cukes
1/2 sweet onion ( I used chives)
2 medium gloves of garlic (needless to say…)
2 tsps salt
1/3 cup sherry or wine vinegar
5 cups tomato juice ( they recommend Welchs)
1 tsp tobasco sauce (optional)

I added the t juice after I had the other stuff blended. Chill and add
about 1 tsp olive oil when serving

I also found a tasty-looking recipe in my “Joy…” that looks like it won’t disappoint.  I think I’ll make two big batches, one with garlic and jalapeno (the Joy version calls for an optional jalapeno), and one “unleaded” version.

Anyone out there have a favorite recipe they’d recommend?

So much for intuition.  I decided to leave the planter with the chrysalis on it outside until the butterfly revealed itself, and this morning I stepped out on the front porch to find it gone.  All that was left of it was one thin green section lying near a couple dark splotches on the pavement that were covered with ants; I assume these are the caterpillar’s remains.

Ah well.  There’s always next year.  I spotted another monarch caterpillar in the garden earlier in the week, so I’ll look around more closely out there to see if I can find its chrysalis.

As you know, I’ve been eating delicious little cherry tomatoes out of my garden for a couple weeks now, but I’ve yet to harvest one of those nice, big, meaty fruits that really make the tomato’s name. Well, it looks like it won’t be long now. These two beauties are probably only a couple hours from being picked, sliced, salted and eaten. They’re real stars; there ain’t a mark on them.

Leah’s been pretty steadfast in her lobbying for BLTs, but I’ll need to get a good pile of tomatoes together before we can have those. I’ve been known to eat through a whole loaf of bread and a pound of bacon at a sitting when BLT season hits, so a good ingredient supply is of paramount importance.<