Still alive, or, Don’t a lot of my blog entries share that title?

December 2, 2007 Jordana

It’s not exactly that life has been boring lately. It’s more like so much has been going on that I’ve lost the ability to document it all. Major holidays involving lots and lots of fast-moving toddlers are like that.

So I’ll just skip all that and get straight to the good stuff: Biscuits.

Today, I made biscuits that are as close to perfect as I’m ever likely to get (because I am too lazy to try and perfect them still more). They were light. They were fluffy. They were buttery and flaky. And guess what? I didn’t cut the shortening into the flour and such. I didn’t keep things cold and attempt to mix the ingredients without actually touching them. Instead, I … melted the butter and combined everything with a couple whirls of the mixer. And they turned out OK! Just great, in fact! So there, Julia Child! (Assuming Julia Child concerned herself with biscuits.)

It’s raining outside, and the Husbandlet and the Squid just came in looking like drowned rats after a frolic in the puddles. Ngaire had been pleading to go outside and play, but just as we got everybody suited up in cold weather gear, it started to rain. So we downgraded her to a fleece jacket and the Husbandlet took her outside anyway. We couldn’t bear to disappoint her after the getting-ready buildup.

Our new town is home to lots and lots of really nice public playgrounds, which we’ve been checking out one by one. Ngaire, being her father’s daughter, has this … tendency to find the most daunting ladder and climb it so she can hurl herself down the tallest, steepest, slipperyest slide. I have long since stopped having heart attacks on principle, preferring to save my coronaries for those times when she, say, goes down the slide a bit crooked, rams her foot into the rim, flips over and winds up dangling off the edge of the slide head-first. Not that this has happened, or anything.

Liam is an interesting fellow. He doesn’t possess his sister’s fieryness, but makes up for it in tenacity, with the result that he’s moving quite briskly through infant development milestones. Roll over (front to back)? Check. Scooch around in a circle during tummy time so that a returning Mommy finds him rather disconcertingly several inches to the side and facing the opposite direction? Check. Grab anything remotely within reach for purposes of mouthing? Check. If I had to MyersBriggs him, I’d say he’s an ESTJ, like his daddy and sister, though far more mild-mannered and placid than they. I think I alone still represent the INFJs of the world in our little nuclear family.

Speaking of which, I think I’ll go take the test again, just for fun. Toodles!


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December 2007
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