Girl Detective

People who know me may be familiar with my habit of forming bizarre theories. The fact that I have had little scientific education does not deter me.

Three fourths of our little family is in the throes of a nasty cold, and one of my theories is that viruses are sentient life forms, intent on propagating themselves on a microcosmic level. I only have to observe toddlers with colds for supporting evidence. My usually introverted son Drake suddenly becomes very physically affectionate, far beyond needing some extra physical comfort because he’s sick. He especially becomes more physical with baby Guppy, giving sticky hugs and snotty kisses. He also becomes even more enamored of things in the kitchen. Yesterday I caught him licking the lid of the honey bottle, sticking his hand into the salt dish, and groping food in the refrigerator.

The health cautions of magazines primly advise parents to wash hands, and keep hands away from faces. But I’m pretty sure the only way a toddler can resist the biological imperative of that virus to spread is through quarantine.

I wrote yesterday about my trouble coming up with book ideas for my friend who wants to find longer books that aren’t violent, scary, or disturbing to read to her son.

One suggestion I had was to read longer picture books than the ones usually recommended for three year olds. I found this article from Child magazine helpful, and Drake has enjoyed many of the books they recommend.

Easy reader chapter books are also a good bet. I forgot to mention the Frog and Toad books by Arnold Lobel, which have been favorites of Drake’s. Also, there are some classics that may not have troublesome passages. Mr. Popper’s Penguins, The Cricket in Times Square, and Caddie Woodlawn are all good possibilities.

A friend wrote to suggest the Beatrix Potter and Roald Dahl books. The Potter books have some of the same issues as the Milne books, though they do portray a wonderful tenderness to animals. And the Dahl books are also problematic. They’re funny and dark, and they empower the child characters, but they can be scary. Also, I found James and the Giant Peach positively creepy in its fear of female physicality.

But the one thing I’d recommend above all is to make friends with the children’s librarian at your local library. S/he is likely to be the best and most constant resource for book ideas.

A friend stumped me recently. She said her 3yo was able and interested to listen to longer books and ones without pictures. She didn’t care for the Pooh books because she felt they were too violent, but they had read and enjoyed Because of Winn Dixie by Kate DiCamillo. Since she knows I’m a bibliophile, she asked my advice for other chapter books that would be good for a 3yo, yet not violent.

First, I had to get my head around her complaint that the Milne books were violent. I consider myself a pretty aware reader, yet that adjective had not occurred to me during any of the many readings we’ve done of that book in our house. Yet my friend isn’t wrong. Christopher Robin has a toy gun with which he (accidentally) shoots Pooh, the animals kidnap (joeynap?) Roo when he and Kanga move to the forest, and Tigger bounces Eeyore into the river. These are just the examples I can think of off the top of my head. I’m not going to stop reading Pooh, because I cherish the humor and sweetness of the stories, as well as the childish roughness, though my friend terms it violence, inherent in play.

Still, though, it took me some time to come up with even a few suggestions, and neither were without pictures. I recommended DiCamillo’s Mercy Watson chapter books, which are fun and silly, as well as longer picture books like Jon J. Muth’s Zen Shorts.

Other books that occurred to me later were the Laura Ingalls Wilder books and The Facts and Fictions of Minna Pratt by Patricia MacLachlan, and The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett. These are ones that I’ve read that I’ve enjoyed. I worked for a year in the children’s section of a large used bookstore, and I became familiar with some of the other popular titles and series, though I haven’t (yet) read them myself that might be good candidates: Stuart Little by E.B. White, The Magic Tree House series, and the Junie B. Jones series.

But what was most interesting to me was the number of books I thought of that had immediate difficulties. The Narnia, George MacDonald, and Tolkien books are violent, as are DiCamillo’s more recent novels. Charlotte’s Web has an ending that must be discussed, which would be tough with someone only three. After further thought, I still think picture books are the best fit. Just because a child CAN sit through a book without pictures doesn’t mean picture books should be left behind. They’re one of the best things about childhood, in my opinion, and their experience should be drawn out and savored.

Earlier this fall, I consumed the Entertainment Weekly Fall TV Guide with my usual fervor. But very little sounded good. I watched two eps of Studio 60, then realized I wasn’t looking forward to the third ep at all, so I didn’t bother. I watched the premiere of Heroes, and was aggravated by its predictability. I didn’t feel like bothering with the Lost-like ensemble of The Nine. I gave up on Lost midway through last season when I got bored. I figure if it gets good again, I’ll hear about it, and I can watch on DVD. I have heard good things about Friday Night Lights and Standoff, but I don’t feel moved. Instead, I’m only watching returning shows:

Veronica Mars: hate the new opening, hate the revised music, and like the show less since they’re giving Kristen Bell a break and not having her in every scene. I’m not sure there’s any way they can top season 1, but I’m watching anyway and it’s still pretty good. Favorite character? Dick. He makes me laugh. My guess for the campus criminal? The TA: his (his? not certain he’s a he, but then he won’t be the culprit) hair looks funny and wig-like.

House: Hugh Laurie is darkly funny. The medical mysteries are secondary to the character interactions and witty repartee.

Bones: the mysteries can get kind of lame, but the banter and characters are excellent.

My Name is Earl: funny, naughty, yet rather sweet, and not mean-spirited.

The Office: Steve Carell has the tough job of being the cringe-inducing guy while everyone else gets the laughs.

Battlestar Galactica: probably my favorite show. Things are pretty much back where they were before the abrupt change at season 2’s end, but darker, bleaker and more complex. James Callis continues to be a wonderful villain who does evil because he’s selfish and cowardly, not out of malice. Jamie Bamber’s fake extra weight is painful to look at, and I keep hoping we’ll get a workout montage set to Madonna so he will stop looking puffy and orange.

#62 in my book challenge for the year was Morality for Beautiful Girls, the third book in Smith’s African detective series. I enjoyed this book far more than I did #2, Tears of the Giraffe. Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni finally became less than perfect, the apprentices became less worthless, and Mma Makutski very quietly became more complex. There were three mysteries: a boy found in the desert, a possible poisoning, and an investigation of the integrity of beauty pageant candidates. All three were used as backstory to the much more interesting development of the series’ characters. One mystery was left purposely unresolved, another was resolved unexpectedly, and the third was predictable, but so charming in its execution and resolution that I can’t complain. This book was a more worthy follow up to the first book. While it still had some of the sexism and romanticisation of the simplistic that I disliked in the second book, it was a more balanced and thus enjoyable story.

Halloween went a bit better this year. Drake was excited to dress up as a cowboy, but when it came to trick or treating, he asked G. Grod to carry him between houses, so what with that and the cold, they weren’t out very long. Nonetheless, along with the slew of candy he got at preschool, Drake had PLENTY of candy.

An aside: what’s with all the candy at preschool? THEY’RE THREE. Their little bodies can’t handle much sugar. I was the odd mom out and gave organic dried apple slices. I don’t think the kids are old enough or cynical enough to resent me for that, yet.

I told Drake that he could go through his candy, pick six pieces, then put all the other extra candy in our Halloween tin. Then overnight, we’d get a visit from the Sugar Sprite (got the idea from A Toy Garden), who would take our extra candy and leave a special gift.

Drake seemed to buy this, and picked out six pieces, and put the others in the tin. I was nearly breaking my arm patting myself on the back. But this morning, he opened the tin, found the 3-pack of Guido, Luigi and a tractor from the movie Cars, and only seemed mildly excited. A little later, he asked, “Can I have the extra candy?”

I reminded him the Sugar Sprite had taken it.

“Can you call her?”

“Um, maybe. But if you want the extra candy, you’ll have to give her back the cars,” I said, thinking this would settle the matter.

He called my bluff, gathered them up, and held them out. I told him the Sugar Sprite wouldn’t be home till later, and felt very fortunate when he got attached to the cars, and agreed to enjoy his one treat (a Tootsie pop) for the day, and finally stopped asking about the extra candy.

I don’t think this stands a chance of working next year. And I bet the dried apple slices won’t, either.

My husband G. Grod and I recently passed our eighth wedding anniversary. We celebrated by getting a babysitter and making a dinner reservation at a Twin Cities restaurant friends have praised, but that we had not yet tried. The chef is a veteran of many local and national big-name places, and started his own place not long ago. The menu was strong, and we were excited about the food. We shared a foie gras appetizer and french fries. Both were quite good. Then I got the fish special and G. Grod got a steak. The server stopped by immediately, and we said things were good. But soon after, I found that the fish was overwhelmed by the winter vegetable preparation that accompanied it. G. Grod’s steak was overdone. We gave the server this feedback when he did finally return, but by then we had finished the entrees. We ordered desserts, and had a very good berry tart and a spiced chocolate cake. But our impression of the restaurant was of infrequent service, and expensive though only OK entrees. Our experience didn’t leave us eager to return.

I wondered at the time whether the problems were due in part to dining on a Friday–did an increase in the number of diners mean diminishing quality? My next two restaurant experiences didn’t disprove this theory. I ate out with friends at 112 Eatery on a Wednesday. The service was attentive and friendly, and the food was quite good: french fries with aioli, romaine salad with roquefort, the lamb sugo pasta, and the pot de creme dessert, which was great when mixed and matched with the banana cream dessert that a friend got. The burger received raves. I must remember that the pot de creme easily feeds two.

I did another night out on Thursday at Gardens of Salonica. I’ve been to Gardens a lot over the years we’ve lived here, but I went with a friend who was very familiar with the menu, so I tried some things I hadn’t before. I had the Greek salad, which was lightly dressed and bright with lemon. We shared a sampler platter of feta dip, potato/garlic dip, and artichokes on pita. I got greek fries and leek lemon boughatsa–a phyllo packet, and shared some of a friend’s stuffed cabbage leaves. Finally, I tried the galaktoboureko, a layered custard with phyllo in an apricot honey sauce. Service was helpful, attentive, water glasses were refilled, and the food was well prepared and delivered quickly.

I may be comparing apples and oranges. The latter two restaurants are small, and more neighborhood places than destination joints like the first. But of the three experiences, I’d prefer to frequent a small place that does its thing well, than a large place that costs more, and is more ambitious, but less of a sure thing with quality and consistency.

#61 in my book challenge for the year was Alexander McCall Smith’s Tears of the Giraffe, the sequel to his wildly successful novel, The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency. A kind friend gave it to me ages ago, and it languished on the shelf because I bought new books, or something came in at the library. But after re-reading In Cold Blood, I felt the need for a sustaining book, and thought this might suit my mood.

Alas, I found the book uneven. The main characters from the earlier book were back, and I found them aggravatingly unnuanced. Precious Ramotswe was so insightful she barely had to do any detective work. Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni was kind. Mma Makutsi was clever. In fact, there were no complex characters. Each person had one defining characteristic, and that’s all there was to them, and it identified them as either bad (e.g., the wife-beating ex-husband Note Mokoti) or good (e.g., Precious’s late father Obed).

The main mystery, the fate of an American boy who disappeared ten years before, seemed to turn on a mistake. When Mma Ramotswe investigates, she finds “a newspaper photograph–a picture of a man standing in front of a building. There had been a printed caption, but the paper had rotted and was illegible.” (p. 93) She puts the fragile paper in her pocket.

Yet twenty pages later, the photograph includes multiple people, and has names on it. Mma Ramotswe determines that one man in the photo is evil, and traces him easily by the name on the paper. While the mysteries aren’t critical to one’s enjoyment of the books, this inconsistency was surprising and sloppy.

One of the strengths of the book is the small details of daily life in another culture. Sometimes these are incisive, as when the characters muse on the futility of revenge, the connectedness of people, and the meaning of family and place. At other times the author seemed to be making clowns of his characters, as when they wondered at Freud (since all men should love their mothers) or Madame Bovary (who should have been content married to a boring man, who would provide for her.) Many of the comments were sexist, e.g., that men are disorganized and women are hard working. There was also a great deal of nostalgia for a past that supposedly had better manners and values, yet no insight into why things changed, or ironic awareness that some of what was good about the past might have been a result of otherwise unlamented colonialism.

This book gave me some things to think about, but at the end, its flaws outweighed its merits. It provoked my critical consciousness repeatedly. While I understand it was trying to champion simplicity of life and values, I think instead it was too simplistic in character and narrative, and this undermined for me its message of culture difference and appreciation.

The last two films we’ve borrowed from the library were Hero and Ong Bak. Yet they don’t make my movie challenge for the year, because I was unable to stay awake through either of them. What I saw was pretty (Hero) and fun to watch (Ong Bak) but both were long, and without strong narrative lines. My husband G. Grod enjoyed them for what they were, though.

#60 in my book challenge for the year was a re-read of In Cold Blood by Truman Capote. I read it six months ago after I saw the film Capote, and read it again for a book group. It’s a compelling and frightening read, even the second time. What impressed me again was the glimpse into a writing past. True crime and creative non-fiction did not exist as genres until Capote wrote this book. This time, I was strongly reminded of Joyce Carol Oates’s We Were the Mulvaneys, which also centered around a tight-knit, small-town family undone by an act of violence.

I’m not participating in NaNoWriMo this year, but I have done it (and won!) twice. I highly recommend it. If you’re trying to develop a writing routine, or if you want to write a novel but never make time, NaNoWriMo could be the catalyst you’re looking for.

Though 3yo Drake is not napping anymore, I still follow the routine and he goes into his room for quiet time. Drake’s version of quiet time involves yelling “mom” repeatedly into the monitor, kicking the wall, and hollering the ABCs while stomping along on the floor. Unsurprisingly, this ruckus often wakes baby Guppy, and any semblance of a break for me is brought to an abrupt end.

We’ve had a rough couple weeks with many night wakings (croup and nightmares), so patience is low and tension is high. Last week during lunch, I urged Drew to finish eating so we could go up for quiet time.

“NO!” he yelled.

“But Drake,” I responded, in what I hoped was a calming voice, “quiet time is our friend.”

“NO!” he yelled again, then continued. “QUIET TIME IS _NOT_ A FRIEND. IT. DOESN’T. HAVE. A. FACE.”

I paused and stifled a laugh. “I see. Do friends have faces?”

“Yes,” he said in a normal tone, nodding for emphasis.

The boys had croup recently. Baby Guppy’s lasted longest, and I was beginning to fear an ear infection because he was waking each night. If he woke again, I vowed, I’d take him to the doctor the next day. Of course, Guppy slept peacefully that night. But at 1:23 a.m., Drake’s crying woke me. I stumbled into his room, and patted him on the back.

“The M was scaring me, Mom,” he wailed.

I sighed. “Yeah, that’ll happen sometimes.”

I tried to open my text editor program. It wouldn’t open.

I tried to work on my current draft of novel #2. The word processor wouldn’t open.

I tried to open my other word processor. It wouldn’t open.

Then I tried to restart the computer. Nothing happened.

So I came here, and am typing it into the ether. I feel I’ve made a good faith effort to work on my novel today. It’s not my fault the universe isn’t cooperating.

Book Moot, which I found via Mental Multivitamin, and MotherReader, which I found on Pages Turned, are two of many kid lit sites with great recommendations for children’s books to read aloud.

Because of Book Moot we’ve read Hi Fly Guy, Farmer Duck, and Snip Snap! What’s That?. At Mother Reader I found out about Happy Bees and Duck and Goose. My 3yo son Drake loved all of these, and demanded numerous re-readings. They were so well written and illustrated, and so humorous, that they were a pleasure for me as well, even multiple times.

The last night of my recent trip to Philly, friends M. and L. watched the kids so I could go with my in laws to Salt and Pepper, the 6th and Fitzwater restaurant owned by a family friend. It’s a small space, with a brief menu that changes seasonally. The open kitchen with its single chef takes up about 1/4 of the pale-green tiled room. Lemons and pears were decorations, as well as ingredients.

I had the salad with pears and fried shallots, which was a good blend of textures and flavors, and dressed with just the right amount of vinaigrette. My entree was perfectly grilled diver scallops atop roasted pumpkin. For dessert, we sampled all three choices,the chocolate cake with mocha cream, the warm Frangelli’s donut with creme fraiche and berries, and a creme brulee with fresh Black Mission figs. The chocolate cake was merely good; it lacked the assertive taste that I prefer in a chocolate dessert. The figs had a rich, wine-y flavor. The donut, though, was a standout. It was sweet, simple, and local. Salt & Pepper is a neighborhood sweetheart, rather than a destination place (only street parking is available), but the space and menu reflect that it knows its strengths, and isn’t trying to be anything it’s not.

I should be doing any number of things other than surfing the web reading about the finale. Baby Guppy naps, and Drake is reading to himself in his room, though whether it’s real reading or memorization, I can’t say.

But back to PR3. Here are a few good links:

Blogging Project Runway
The Fug Girls on the finale
EW interviews with the final four

Did anyone else get dressed up to watch the finale? One of my group, A., did a dead-on Jeffrey look, with a black skull T-shirt, rhinestone sunglasses, exaggerated brows, eye-liner neck tattoo, and even a crotch chain.

I dressed Laura-esquely in a DVF wrap dress with no bra for the plunging neckline, and white fishnet stockings, which were weirdly fascinating to the 3yo boys.

Our hostess, K., put on an Uli-ish floral, floaty dress but woke her baby girl when she changed into it, so much crying ensued in the name of fashion.

Finally, another friend A. dressed up a basket with beads, in an homage to crazy Vincent. (Read the Tim Gunn part of the EW article to confirm Vincent’s craziness.)

Darwin Awards are given to silly humans who behave foolishly enough to remove themselves from the gene pool. Before having kids, I thought the warning on plastic bags was ridiculous–that’s common sense; what idiot wouldn’t know to keep bags away from a kid?! Since having kids, I think it’s a good idea. My kids LOVE plastic bags–they’re crinkly and they float! The other day, 3yo Drake was playing with one while I supervised. I turned my back for the proverbial one second, then heard him say, “Mom, look at me!” What I turned back, he had the bag over his head. I shouted No over and over, and then we had the talk about how mommy wasn’t mad, just scared, etc.

Drake’s other new behavior is to take a whisk or butter knife off the counter, open the toaster oven, stick in the utensil and start banging. We’ve taken to unplugging it, but haven’t yet found a positive way to discourage him.

The good news is that the behavior will change. There are things he used to do that I thought he’d do forever, and then he stopped, like insisting on being the one to use the microwave and flush the toilet. The bad news is that there will probably always be some annoying, dangerous thing he wants to do. I just hope the bag and toaster phase ends soon.

Smoothie season is really over, but during the past summer, smoothies (or foozies, as Drake lisped them) were a frequent snack at our house. I invented a peach one that was a particular favorite.

Peach Smoothie (based on the yogurt smoothie recipe from Cook’s Country)

1 10 oz bag frozen peaches
2 small ripe bananas
1/2 c. Knudsen Orange Carrot juice
2 Tbl. honey
1 1/2 c. whole milk vanilla yogurt

Blend until smooth. Serves 3 to 4, and doesn’t keep, so drink it all!

For last night’s Project Runway 3 finale, my friends had a potluck dinner, and I brought brownies. I love the brownie recipe I use. It turns out every time. It’s easy (even easier when I melt the chocolate and butter in the microwave) and it’s quick. It’s from Alice Medrich’s book Cookies and Brownies, which I bought based on a recommendation in Cook’s Illustrated. Buy Medrich’s book, or, if you’re feeling cautious, borrow it from the library and audition it for your home cookbook collection.

New Classic Brownies from Alice Medrich’s Cookies and Brownies

8 Tbl. unsalted butter cut into 8 pieces
4 oz. unsweetened chocolate, coursely chopped
1 1/4 c. sugar (can use light brown, white, or a mixture of the two)
1 tsp. vanilla
1/4 tsp. salt
2 lg. eggs
1/2 c. all-purpose flour

Use an 8 in. square metal pan, lined across the bottom and sides with 2 strips of aluminum foil, spray with non-stick oil.

Preheat oven to 400F. Position rack in lower third of oven.

Melt the butter and chocolate gently: in double boiler, in glass bowl over low-simmering water in small saucepan, or in microwave at 50% power. Stir frequently until mixture is melted and smooth.

Remove from heat. Stir in sugar, vanilla, and salt. Check to be sure mixture is not hot, then add the eggs, one at a time, stirring until each is incorporated before adding the next. Stir flour into chocolate mixture, and beat with a wooden spoon until the batter is smooth, glossy and comes away from side of bowl, about 1 minute. Bake for 20 minutes, or until brownies begin to pull away from side of pan. Surface will be dry but inside will be gooey, so don’t bother with a toothpick test.

While brownies bake, prepare an ice bath: Fill a roasting pan or large baking pan with ice cubes and water about 3/4 inch deep.

When brownies are ready, remove pan from oven and set it immediately in ice bath, taking care not to splash water on brownies. Cool brownies in ice bath. (Medrich calls this the Steve ritual, and this step is critical in producing brownies that have a firm crust but creamy, fudgy center. You may use this method with other 8″ brownie recipes: bake for 20 min at 400F, put in ice bath.)