Monday, March 23, 2009

I am Here, but on my way There

Ok all, I really must apologize. I haven't exactly bitten off more than I can chew, but this moving thing has turned out to be a chewy mouthful indeed. I have been working physically at this for a month now, sorting and tossing, packing and donating. I am close to done, almost crispy in fact. I write sassy blog posts in my head as I try to calm my racing mind into sleep at the end of each day. But I really have not had the time to write something coherent about food and nutrition. As a matter of fact, I have barely had the time to cook a decent meal.

Lucky for me that my kids are great cooks or we would all be wasting away over here. And lucky for them too, I guess. At any rate, I am still supposed to be the household shopper, so today we hit a wall--made of onions. All I really had in the larder was onions. And a lot of broth in the freezer. So of course I thought onion soup was the obvious solution. "Not so fast", says my family. "Onion soup is an appetizer" says my sweetheart. "Back me up", says I. "I want meat!" says my petite 17 year old. "We don't have any", says I. She fumes all the way into her room, muttering that she will have to cook herself something if I insist on making onion soup for dinner, that I have planned so poorly that she will starve. The two middle kids quietly finaigle an evening at a friend's house.

Crisis looming, I retreat to my bedroom. No longer a sanctuary, most of the comforts are gone; it is now filled with things I must pack--mocking my slow pace. Dinner is none of it's concern. There is nowhere to turn, so I begin to mutter myself. Sweetheart picks up on the tenor of my rant and offers dinner out. Hmm. This would mean Fuming Child will get her way. But I won't have to cook, or even think about cooking. Well, maybe, just maybe, we can make this work--for my sanity, that is. So, after an appropriate cooling-off spell, my saviour makes a loud announcement of the plan and off we go for carne asada at the college hangout across the highway.

It pains me to eat out, but at least there's a place or two that we can fall back upon when things get too hairy around here. There may be more of that in the coming days, as we count down to Friday's departure. It actually seems, though, that we will be eating a lot of homecooked meals on our trip. We are staying with family and friends as we make our way along the path of the Lewis and Clark expeditions (at least, after St. Louis we will be on their path), and many have offered to shop in advance of our arrival for a communal meal. That is a huge relief for me, knowing we will have real food at the end of each day, made with love and eaten in good company.

I will try to keep you all posted as we go along, but know I that I am HERE, as well as on my way THERE.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Ahh, moving. I'm still unpacking boxes, and we moved in 1 1/2 years ago. Yikes. Well, good luck!

Justine Raphael said...

Yes, Moving: from Miami to Port Angeles, WA. From a three-bedroom apartment where we have lived for 11 years (with up to seven kids) to a boat with three kids. Big Yikes!

And, thanks for the good luck wishes--I need them! Though maybe what I need more right now is a wife of my own!

Anonymous said...

Well, I can certainly relate to that! I love the idea of preparing wonderful, healthy meals every day. But I have so many other things going on in my life, and I OFTEN find my self in a situation of only having the time or energy or ingredients to make something that doesn't exactly please my family. And I'm not even moving. ;)

Anonymous said...

so so so agree with your comment today about fat. (healthy)

people have gotten all kinds of crazy in avoiding it huh?
for no good reason----

Miz.

Hannah said...

love you mom.

Justine Raphael said...

I often experience not pleasing at least some of my family, but usually there are more alternatives in the house. This will pass, though.

See, they grow up and still love me though. I haven't permanently traumatized them. I love you too, Hannah!

 
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