Sitting on the dock of the ba….lake


Day 5 of not working. A blog could get used to this.
Sorry about the posting silence. Lots of birds, trees, water and sky – but no wifi.
Happy Fourth of July eve!

Something Fishy

Today’s post was going to be a mushy, gushy Valentine cooking post. A step by step of me making my husband’s all time favorite pasta –  fra diavolo.  Shrimp, bay scallops and squid. I was going to talk about my favorite shortcut. Rao’s tomato sauce. It’s $9 a jar – and yes, making real sauce is easy and it costs $2 – what’s your point? I was going to tell you not to be scared of shortcuts, or squid. That it’s no biggie. I’ve done it before. It cooks in a couple of seconds and people are impressed.  And I had pictures…tons of freaking pictures. I was going to show you how brave I am. Buying, cleaning, chopping squid like it was my business. I’ve done it before. No big thaang.  But then something happened.  (if you are my husband, for the love of god, stop reading this).

As I cleaned the squid…I found….gulp….a little baby fish inside!! 

Hold me.

After I stared at it for a few minutes and the nausea had worn off, I washed my hands and did what all smart people faced with oddities do – I YouTubed it, and googled it, and Wiki’d it, and Web MD’d it (just in case).  The people of the internet told me it’s normal. Happens all the time. Feed it to my cat, etc. But even now, hours later, I shiver when I think of it. Maybe the squid had a last meal and didn’t have time to finish, maybe it was the thing they used to lure the squid. Alls I know is, it ended up in my kitchen.

I’ve been changed people. Some sort of gross seafood cherry has been popped. I had to come to terms with it quickly. My kids or my hubby could not/should not ever see this.  You don’t understand. My husband, I love him, but he’s no adventurous foodie.  He gets really grossed out really quickly. And I couldn’t let my kids see it – the horror the horror!

So like every good mother and wife, I got rid of the evidence and pretended all was good.

Now, safe in my bed, I can finally come to terms with it.

Here’s what I went through folks. Happy f’ing Valentine’s day…

I’ll start with the harmless ones first.  Prepare yourselves. Here’s the shrimp/sauce/squid.  I forgot to take pictures of the scallops because – did I mention – I found food inside the food!! It’s like a bad M.Night Shyamalan plot twist. Back to my sordid story.

IMG_4965   IMG_4969   IMG_4975

Please note that my cutting board is…’s all cut-up. These are not just props people. This stuff gets used!

Here’s the fresh squid. Yes, it looks slimy but there’s no smell and it handles easily. It also easily cuts into the calamari ringlets.



And then, as I clean it. I notice this little guy or gal or it. Do you want to hurl like me?



I want my mommy.

Reason number 8,222,329 to be a vegetarian: I’ve never found a carrot in the middle of my bagel. Or an almond in my banana. I’ll stop now.




Fish Tale

I found some old photos I thought I’d share. These are from early spring – when you still needed a sweatshirt, remember those days? I want them back. Now.

My son had really wanted to go fishing, begged us for weeks and weeks.  We finally gave in and met some family to enjoy a day on the water.

Shockingly, my girl wasn’t into it. Not shocking in an ironic way – shocking because she’s usually such a good sport about everything.

She tried to get out of it – but we made her go. Insert the eye rolling.

Last summer my boy had gone to a fishing camp for a week, so he had all his own equipment – his own bait, and his own tackle kit (is that what you call that box with all the disgusting stuff in it?).  He was ready.

I had planned on taking a couple of chairs and hanging out in the sun while the boys fished – I told my daughter she could join me – more eye rolling.

Here’s how it went down:

Here’s the boy, excited, dimpled, and ready to catch some fish!

Then the waiting game begins. This is normal, people tell me. “You have to be patient”, I tell him. “Give it time”, I say.

This is 40 minutes in.

This is 80 minutes in – he looks over at me in my chair, taking a million pictures and having coffee – I tell him to hang in there.

At this point my daughter is bored and decides to pick up one of the…tees, hooks, lines….what’s that thing called? Rod!

Two seconds later. Or maybe less. This happened.

She caught a fish.  This is the look that all sisters give their brothers to torture them.

This is the look he gave her back….I imagine him saying,”Son of a B*%#h!!!”

Here’s the first of FIVE fish she caught within 1/2 an hour. All with UGGs on.

True story.

oh boy

Trouble, trouble, trouble.

That’s what we should have named these three.

Watch out 3rd grade – here they come.

Actual overheard (ok, eavesdropped) conversation between them:

Trouble 1 – “You know what we should do? We should take our bikes to the river and catch fish with our hands.”

Trouble 2 – “What river? Oh you mean the pond?  There’s only dead fish there. Once I did that and brought home a fish and my mom screamed.”

Trouble 3 – “Yeah – let’s make them scream!”

Then they get distracted by building the greatest Lego city that ever was, have a juice pack and call it a day.

Love them.