In the spirit of Life is What You Make of It…
1. We have scratch ‘n dent produce.
At our local produce place, tucked way, way back in the corner, the past-its-prime produce is sold for $ .29/pound. Our family puts away enough fruit to support a small orchard, so this was a huge and amazing discovery for me. It’s always an adventure to see what’s up for sale that day. Kind of like a CSA, only much more ghetto.
It also means I don’t break out in a sweat each time one of the kids grabs a recreational apple.
Nastja (upon learning of my secret shopping triumph): “Ah, I was wondering why all the apples looked so weird.”
2. The cheewawas are sporting their festive fall attire.
They start to shake when the temperature dips below 70 degrees.
3. My shameless-shortcut baking might just be paying off.
This ridiculously great dollar store recently opened up in our neighborhood. It is full of, as Nastja would say, “so beautiful things.” One time Joe and I went there on a date. They had sprinkles *and* candy corn. I bought both. Quit judging.
As we approach the hopeful cementing of this adoption (Joe and the kids leave for the second trip to Latvia in less than three weeks), I am continuing the heart-through-stomach campaign, assisted by said dollar store’s array of Probably Really Bad For You cookie mixes.
(El nino has grown six inches and gained 30 pounds since July. He can eat his weight in trans fats and it wouldn’t even register. I so love feeding teenage boys.)
True fact: I dug the above out of the garbage for photographing purposes. They were hovering.
I’ve been packing the Latvian kids’ lunches for them. It’s one of those mom jobs I really don’t mind, and I figured it had been awhile, if ever, since they’d had someone do that for them. Add to that the fact that the nutritional value of their school’s cafeteria offering would curl your hair (she writes, tossing another handful of sprinkles into the chemical-laden cookie powder). Here’s one example:
I kid you not.
Anyway, I found out tonight that the art of lunch packing apparently dies out somewhere around middle school, so all of their friends buy the school crap (think pizza and fries). Rather than their homemade fare rendering them uncool, however, my kids are apparently the envy of their lunch friends. “Your mom makes your lunch? I wish my mom would do that.”
I am exceedingly grateful for this–it so easily could have spun the other way.
Score one for sprinkle cookies.
I leave you on this thought…
Or come on over to our house for an after-school snack.