The Best Broccoli of Your Life

Frances loves broccoli. It is one of the few vegetables she'll eat on its own or as part of another dish (my poor hotdogatarian). I like raw broccoli but not so much the cooked stuff. Rob's hate for broccoli is second only to his hate for turnips. He went back for two more pieces after the one I forced on him and then I ate the rest of the pan. The entire pan in one sitting as my supper. This really is the best broccoli of your life. 

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Preheat the oven to 425.

Take 4 to 5 pounds of broccoli (two large bunches), cut into relatively big florets. Wash and dry thoroughly. Really thoroughly and then go back and dry them again. They need to be dry-dry. Put the broccoli on a cookie sheet. Toss with olive oil, salt and pepper (5 Tbs olive oil, 1 1/2 tsps kosher salt, 1/2 tsp fresh ground pepper). Toss in four garlic cloves of peeled and sliced garlic. 

Roast in the oven 20 to 25 minutes, until crisp-tender and the tips of some of the florets are browned.

When it’s done, take it out of the oven–and here’s where it gets really good–zest a lemon over the broccoli, squeeze the lemon juice over the broccoli, add 1.5 Tbs more olive oil, and 1/3 cup of freshly grated Parmesan cheese (mine wasn't freshly grated and everything still came out packed with delicious). The original recipe also suggests adding 3 Tbs toasted of pine nuts and 2 Tbs of julienned fresh basil. With or without these last two this recipe will make you want to make broccoli everyday. Probably for every meal. Or as every meal. Enjoy!

Original Recipe: here.

These Boots were Made for Walking

I thought I might not like it when Frances was older enough to cruise around the neighbourhood on her own. Rob and I have become pretty accustomed to the traveling convenience of the stroller. We can go where we want, as fast as we want and, if its not close to nap time, for as long as we want. France points at kitties, woofs at dogs and happily plays with her toes. 

This week we've started going for short evening strolls with everyone on foot and I couldn't love it more. Her small feet set the pace and we make many stops and side trips so that we (she) can run up and down a sloping lawn or try to fit another stick in her fistful of sticks. It is such perfect and intentional slowness  

From one of our on foot walks to the park this week: 

My favourite: the ooh sound and lip curl she makes in moments of amazement.

Couch Tomato

Isn't it lovely? It is the second ripe tomato from this amazing birthday gift plant. The first was the most delicious tomato I had ever tasted. I don't know if this is because I grew it (and it was the first thing I'd ever really grown) or because it's journey from stem to plate was about a minute long. Either way I can't wait to dig into this one and the four small green ones that are following in its footsteps. 

Our new chair. Our beautiful new chair (and beautiful little pea).

And matching couch (which kind of makes the maps look crooked but oddly they're not). And a promise (for Rob) that this is our last couch and chair set until we move. Not that we have any plans to move anytime soon but this is definitely an old house with narrow old stairways. The three (oh dear) couch and chair sets we've had since Frankie was born (so indecisive) have had to come up and go down over the second floor balcony. It takes a lot of dada's strength and patience (holy do we love him) and is a sight to behold. 

Keeping Up With Commodore

On Sunday, as we were driving from Nana and Granddad's to Sydney, our national radio call-in show asked us what we thought about technology and children. Had technology had a positive impact? A negative one? Was it sure to be the demise of civilization as we know it?

First, an about us: we don't have an iPhone or a smart phone (and I'm not entirely clear on the difference between the two). We have a cell phone and it gets used about once a month We don't have a television. We have two computers and probably spend about an average number of hours online (maybe a little less than average since our time wasting time is pretty minimal these days). We watch movies, documentaries and mini-series online and are introducing Frances to the important childhood silliness that is Sesame Street via You Tube. We keep what works for us and pitch the rest.

The call-in show began by stating that parents today are increasingly isolated from the technologies that permeate their children's lives. Our lack of smart phones aside, I'd have to disagree. Compared to the last twenty years, parents are probably less isolated than ever from the technologies that their children use. My school got it's first computer when I was in grade four. Five years later, when I started grade nine, it was assumed that our assignments would be completed on our home computer and printed on our home printer. Yes, I remember dial-up and no my kindergarten class didn't have a smart board, but I feel nonetheless that I have less of a gap to bridge than my parents did. Does this familiarity make me feel any better about the pervasiveness of communications technologies in Frankie's life? No. 

No because of cyber-bullying. No because of ridiculously shortened attention spans. And no because of the increasing irrelevance of the outdoors (in favour of the connected indoors) in children's lives. As we listened to the show we talked about the age at which Frances could have her first cell phone. Sixteen was my initial old person/parent reaction, knowing full well that this will likely mean eight years of pleading and then more pleading. One high school teacher came on and said that many of his student's can't make it from their desks to the black board without getting (and having to respond to) a text and that group-work is no longer feasible since it most often becomes students sitting in a circle sending texts to other students not in the circle. My sixteen became seventeen and then eighteen. 

A student council president came on and tried to make the case for smart phones having an educational place in the classroom. It was a stretch at best and made you wonder about the families who can't afford these phones and the sometimes hefty monthly fees that come with keeping them turned on. But what if Frankie was student council president? What if she was a member of the math club and volunteered on weekends? Would I feel differently then? Yes. If she was responsible and focused and engaged in different academic and non-academic activities I'd worry much less about her ability to use and incorporate technology into her life without it taking over; without it becoming a means rather than an end.

This was our first lesson of the day: its pointless to try to set arbitrary age limits for things that will happen years in the future, especially when we know that we don't know which technologies will then be a part of our everyday lives. Who she is as she grows up will dictate when and how much technology she has access to. 

Our second and most important lesson was one that we sort of arrived at ourselves. If we want Frances to live a robust life and to balance her use of technology with all of the other non-technological wonders that life offers, it is up to us to do the same. To balance time online with time outside and time with books and time creating. To balance our constructive use of communications technologies with our non-constructive use (oh hello there facebook) so that our access to infinite information always remains a means for us to explore and experience and contribute to the offline world rather than an endless dead end in itself.

What about emergencies you ask? We're ready for that one (when her wise seven year old mind prepares itself for check mate). Luckily, while we're young enough to know how to use a cell phone, we're old enough to know that emergencies were invented before them and not the other way around. 

Oh Hi There

Dear blog. You have not been abandoned. Its just that these are the things that have happened in the last two weeks: Gram arrived, went to Baddeck, went to Big Pond beach, went sailing, recovered sailboat cushions, visited with visiting Uncle Raymond, Aunt Tara Lee and Faith, delivered Turnip, started a new job, plotted a neighbourhood park renovation, bought a new couch and chair, went to Tedx Bras d'Or and went to Two Rivers Wildlife Park. Easily the busiest but best two weeks of summer so far. 

Except for the Wildlife Park. That was not the best. I don't know why I didn't think it would be a sad place  but it was a really really sad place. The animals weren't in tiny cages and they weren't sick or starving but there eyes were so empty and they hardly moved. Wolves, bears, foxes, cougars, goats, cows, any animal you could ever want to see up close, just lying there. I wish now that I hadn't played my six dollar part in helping them to keep doing what they're doing.  

Onto some less sad thoughts of the last two weeks: 

Frankie sleeps eight hours a night but I still only sleep six. I vow down to my toes to change this every morning that she rises before the sun. And then I stay up until midnight. Again. Or else I go to bed at ten and am wide awake at three am. I think I have been sleep-trained by my baby.

I am done in by how grown up she looks when wearing barrettes, running shoes or two-piece pajamas. Oh well, short hair, sandals and footie-pjs till she's twelve. 

When Frankie eats a full breakfast, lunch or supper I feel like mom of the year. The other nine of ten meals make me doubt that she'll ever grow tall enough to turn a door knob.

Believing that our hearts become a bit bigger and our minds a bit wiser when we can find love in life's trying moments has been a great source of calm and rootedness over the last year. Like those hungry/tired mamma hungry/tired/crying baby kind of moments. Thank you Buddhism for Mothers of Young Children.     

And a less sad photo. Kind of:

Frankie insisting that little girls don't need shaves.

No real Frankie's were harmed or shaved in the taking of this photograph.