So tonight, I was singing to my son as I do every night at bedtime. And as I do every night at bedtime, I was thinking of all kinds of other things. Lest you think this is awful of me, be aware that I learned this as a parenting technique many years ago: the Boy goes to sleep much more quickly and serenely if my thoughts are occupied with something of a technical, mechanical or manipulative nature. In other words, something that puts me in a zen or restful space. Like weaving, or knitting, or mental puzzles.
When he was a baby we had a digital clock in our room and I would make up relationships between the numbers before the colon and the numbers after the colon. Like this:
Okay, so this one is easy. Imagine it as a digital clock. The number “1” is made up of two lines, one above the other. The “2” and the “5” use the same number of lines. This one would bore me and I’d have to wait until…
So, I couldn’t do the line thing, because it would be 7:8. But then I might think, okay, the “12” has 7 lines, the “16” has 8 lines, is there some kind of relationship there? Maybe “16” is 8, “12” is 7, “10” is 6, “9” is 5, “8.5” is 4…
And so on.
Tonight I made a list in my head, of things to do before I go to bed. But because I was afraid I’d fall asleep in the dark, warm room before I could go accomplish any of these tasks, I made an acronym:
C-Chair. I wanted to think about a chair for Geeklet, for school.
L-Library. I have some work to do on the SD Space library.
A-I needed to email a friend named Anne.
S-I needed to work up the details of a sweater I’d like to knit.
P-I wanted to make some pickle.
Y-I also wanted to make some yogurt.
And hence, my problem.
I could remember everything else, but I cannot for the life of me think of what that final A is for. I might have gone to bed by now but for this. I know, by now, that I am not going to get to everything on my list–but at least I know what the others are. This is driving me on the very short trip to the Happy Land freeway exit.
The reason I’m not going to get to everything is that pickle. I made truly disgusting pickle tonight. Once, I made some carrot-and-cabbage pickle. Shredded vegetable, salt, ginger, whey, out of the Nourishing Traditions cookbook. It was pretty yummy, and also fairly attractive. So I wanted to make the wakame-and-carrot pickle from the Vegetarian Mother cookbook, using whey and because of a lack of carrot, augmenting with cabbage. It looks awful. The wakame is soaked and therefore slimy. It is very red, due to my nutritious carrots. But, as I told the studious TMoTH, if nothing else I am now quite sculpted, as you have to pound the mixture for 10-15 minutes and I was doing it with the Boy’s small wooden kitchen mallet due to not having a meat tenderizer due to not ever tenderizing any meat ever.
Yes. I do in fact use my 6-year-old son’s kitchen toys in my cooking. Hush. I usually ask first.
So I have a large jar of very red, very orange pulverized bits with small slimy green things floating about in. It sits on my counter. I am determined that this will keep me from senescence. It will. I will need to eat it first.
Before I do–have you figured out what A is?