Insane. Holy Crap.

This.*

Ummm....yeah. We made this tonight and served it to friends for Halloween (as in: they brought their twins plus their baby, we provided dinner and then all the kids toddled out to trick or treat).

Amazing. One trick or treater, probably 8 or 9, said, "What's that smell?" I said, "It's pork. Is it good or bad?" "Good. Real good." Well thank you, young man. More candy for you!

Iain ate nothing (ok, he ate some jam, pulled off a bun with his fingertips, plus some golden kiwi), but he collected some nice candy - a pixie stick, a couple of little chocolate bars, an M&Ms bag, and a PEZ dispenser shaped like Spider Man. He refused to wear the fireman outfit (again), but agreed to wear a pair of Wall-E glasses Charles printed off the internet and cut out for him. He wore them for about 2 houses, but still. That's a step up from last year.

*Recipe: buy a pork shoulder about 3-4 lbs. Mine was labeled a "picnic" roast, but apparently shoulder is the same thing as Boston Butt, too. Mix up a rub with 1T plus 1t salt and the same amount of sugar per pound of pork. (since a tablespoon is 3 teaspoons, this means 4 teaspoons each of salt and sugar per pound of meat) plus some black pepper (ground). Rub this into the meat, then refrigerate overnight.

The next day, plop it into your cast iron skillet and roast in the oven at 250F for 6 hours. Let it rest 20-30 minutes, then pull it with forks. It's ridiculous. Hot, salty, and perfectly seasoned for eating with a warm bun. Crisp on the outside, tender on the inside...the most dangerous thing is the crispy pork fat on the outside. Better toss that, quick, or you'll stand there at the cutting board and ... I've said too much. You try it.

Halloween Maturity

I buy ten tons of candy and bring it home. Charles says, "Do you think we ought to put it where Iain can't see it?"

"Oh, no." I say, "I don't think Iain's ever seen this stuff. He won't know what it is."

Iain, ten minutes later:

"Candy!"

Autumn

Yo. Welcome to hiking, y'all. Until recently, I always "hiked" in my BOB, letting other people take care of the actual walking. But no more!

That's The Mom. I like to take photos sometimes. You know - when the staff's busy making my lunch.

This picture implies that I let The Dad carry me up Millcreek Canyon, but no. I actually walked my own little self up there.

Check it out:

Yep. That's me. And The Dad. We enjoyed the fall colors, walked a bit along a pretty trail, and otherwise experienced the great outdoors. Nothing like a little fresh air to make me hungry for pancakes (and bacon) (and pancakes) (with blueberries).

Utah in autumn. Not bad, even compared to New England.

Epic Fun or Horrible Nightmare? You Decide

Yes, that's Iain in a real, actual, authentic, not made up helicopter. It's an "exhibit" at a children's museum here. He LOVED it.

Gotta check your switches and buttons before you fire up those blades. Fuel? Check! Feet that reach the pedals? Uh...captain we might have a problem there.

Grr! I'm Iain and I'm going to fly this baby ALL NIGHT LONG!

So we went to a birthday party. Except that when I say we "went" to a "party," what I mean is that we spent 45 minutes trying to figure out how to access a party (25 minutes to drive across town at rush hour, 10 minutes parking, then 10 minutes walking across the Gateway only to look out and realize we'd walked in a huge circle), then encountered Iain's absolute and intractable refusal to participate.

He wanted to play with that helicopter, by God, and was not going to have any pizza, or cake, or costumes, or crown-making, or obstacle courses, or silk parachute flipping, or anything else. It was helicopter or freakout. Period.

Eventually, Mother and I convinced him to look at the rest of the museum, where he played with balls, a crane, a playhouse, a pretend farm, a Jeep (that you can gas up and whose tires you can inflate), and a water feature.

But when it was time to go? Howls. Screams. Wails. Protests beginning with the assertion that playing with the helicopter was "good for me!" and ending with demands to return "right now!!!"

He threw this fit all the way home. That's another 45 minutes, in case you're counting. Charles finally talked him down off the cliff, using orange segments and a firm but gentle insistence on quiet. Then Iain said, "I think I'll take a little nap."

Sweet silence. Sweet, sweet silence.

At Kyoto

What the twins (and their little brother) ate:

• California roll
• Rainbow roll
• noodles
• ginger
• tempura shrimp
• Salmon
• Eel
• Ikura (eggs!)
• Miso soup

What Iain ate:

• Two orange wedges
• Part of a lemon wedge

It's hard even to remember the baby who ate any old green/brown/red/orange/yellow thing I put in his mouth, so long as it was properly tarted up with cream, parmesan, or brown sugar.

Because I'm the Oldest

So we're driving to REI (20% off! I got boots, finally.). Iain's in the backseat.

[I chat with Mother]

Iain: "Can you be quiet? I need to make an important phone call."

[We giggle.]

Iain [into the phone]: "Hello? Are you there? Hello?"

Me: "IAIN! HEY PAY ATTENTION TO ME! DON'T MAKE THAT CALL, TALK TO ME PLAY WITH ME MEMEMEMEME!!!"

-pause-

Iain: "Mommy, I'm making an important call."

Me: "Yes, and you never let us make calls undisturbed. Why should I let you do so?"

Iain: "Because. I'm the oldest."

Oh.

Spaceman Spiff - To The Rescue!!

Oh, hai. Just your friendly neighborhood barefoot toddler here. I spent last Saturday playing at Liberty Park, then mixed it up on Sunday with a 2-hour visit to Laird Park. I'm training for a job as a park reviewer. Being a restaurant reviewer is so five minutes ago - parks are the coming thing.

In other news, I'm trying out a new pair of glow-in-the-dark pajamas tonight. They're covered in rocket ships, stars, and planets. Call me Spiff. Spaceman Spiff. I'll be here with my trusty Roox Cube [Rubix Cube], making plans and saving stranded space travelers.

Also, check out the above. My parents signed me up for rock climbing lessons last summer. Little did they know that I would sit out each lesson, playing with a puzzle and refusing to climb. But I guess something stuck because when I saw this incline I said, "Oh, rock climbing!" and scrambled right up it like a pro.

Night Night!

P.S. I'm sleeping in my tent tonight. On the floor. Because.

.

Another Path to Happiness

As it prepared for the 2002 Olympics, Salt Lake City built a number of delightful little nooks around the city. One, above, was a play area in Liberty Park. There are rings intended to evoke the Olympic rings, there are fountains spraying water in four different ways (giant streams, a cool mist, gauntlets of sprinkles through the hoops...), there are castles and swings and little play crab shacks and tiny tunnels, and, and, and.

Iain - after making it crystal clear that watching state championship girls' tennis was a bore - enjoyed the playground this morning. The best part was undoubtedly running barefoot through the water.

Happiness.