One thing I’m in need of is more sleep. The little gal woke at 4:45 this morning. She needed a cuddle. That wasn’t enough. She needed a bottle. By the time I got her back to sleep, I was wide-awake, sleep-deprived style, which is to say groggily wide-awake. I’m pretty sure any parent I know would back me up on the fact that there is such a thing as groggily wide-awake.
Teenagers seem to be groggily ambulatory in the morning, but not groggily wide-awake, in case you were wondering.
You can be pretty certain that whenever my blog turns a bit melancholy or portrays me as downright at the edge, sleep—lack thereof—is involved. My big plans over the Thanksgiving holiday are to do some extra fine sleeping, and to read a book or two. And take some walks with my mum.
I probably won’t be shopping over the break. I probably will be doing some preparation to hold a craft show at our house (talk about buying local!). We’ve done so before. Local public radio even visited. I wrote about my passion for local shopping over at the Hilltown Families blog earlier this week.
Over the break, my brilliant chef of a son plans to cook. Last night, he made supper for a friend, who is with child. He told me later that evening that he now understands the phrase eating for two.
Earlier in the day, Remy got Saskia in a pregnant pose.
The meal he prepared—salad, grilled lamb, and roasted potatoes—was all locally sourced. The ingredients were obtained at the very last Tuesday Market of 2011. That market is a really important part of my weekly fabric during the late spring, full summer and much of the fall. I’m going to miss seeing my pals. I will frequent the Winter Market, to be sure; I have separate affection for it.
Speaking of local food and farms, I was dismayed to learn yesterday that the Reagan era-joke about ketchup being a vegetable is alive and well in 2011: no further comment required.
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Adding to the noise and confusion of the day is that during a routine reading of the gas meter, the gas guy found a leak. Cue, all the loud, digging, banging machines in front of our house. It’s like December 2010 all over again.
