I love to cook. It’s something I taught myself just over a decade ago. And, like most things in my life, the inspiration and mainstay of my cooking was very much a result of family ties. Today, I am cooking jambalaya for the St. Patrick’s Day parade tomorrow. I’ve made jambalaya many times, each time tweaking it to get it just the way I like it. I distinctly remember the day I got it just right–I was cooking at my grandparents’, sitting for my ailing grandmother. She sat at the kitchen table reading the funny pages and working the newspaper puzzles while I cooked. Throughout the day, she’d ask, “Honey, what are you doing? ” “Making jambalaya for the Saints game tomorrow, Maw Maw,” I’d repeat. “Oh, that’s nice,” she’d respond. The daily minutia didn’t resonate with my grandmother anymore. To me, it was as if her brain said, “I have a majestic tapestry of memories. Unless this jambalaya warrants the replacement of a better memory (which it rightly did not), then I am not going to register it.”

For Mardi Gras last month, I decided to make jambalaya. I called a friend to see if he’d want to join in and help. He loves to cook and quickly agreed. I suppose it’s the pregnancy thing, but that day I was sluggish and my friend took the lead in the kitchen. I happily became the sous chef. I chopped while he cooked. We got to the end and he said, “You know, it’s really better if you pop it in the oven.” Really?? So just as we were doing that, he then said, “Woops. I forgot the tomatoes. Although, I prefer jamb without them.” Seriously, really?? I suspiciously agreed to let it go.

My friend and I left for Krewe d’Etat and Captain Sarcastic agreed to take the pot out of the oven 45 minutes later and put it on the stove, uncovered, for another 10 minutes. When we returned from what for me would be the best parade of the season (thanks to the Dancing Marinellos), the house was infused with that unique smell. We both dipped in for “a taste” (two bowls each!) of the jamb. Perfection. So goodbye tomatoes! Nevermore! Today, I will make it unaided. Let’s hope it comes out half as good as Pete’s.

I learned to knit at the Quarterstitch in the French Quarter on the morning of September 13, 2003. Captain Sarcastic came with me. He didn’t stay with me, mind you; rather, he roamed around the Quarter and took some pictures. Here’s a picture he took of a puddle outside of St. Patrick’s Cathedral as I was learning:

This always reminds me of that day–that exact moment I was beginning a new chapter in my life. But this isn’t about my journey with knitting.

Last summer Captain Sarcastic and I went to Denver to meet Bella, our friends’ newly adopted daughter. While there, we did what we do in all cities we visit: we hit the local comic book shops and knitting stores. I found this fabulous rick rack yarn that I just had to have. I decided it’d be my biggest project (even if not my most challenging one) yet: a blanket. Not a small throw–a blanket. I started the blanket in early October. As of now, I think I am bearing down on the half-way mark. I am a stickler about finishing a project before starting a new one. Otherwise, I know I’d end up with a lot of never-to-be-completed pieces that would just piss me off.
Continue Reading »

Being pregnant has been a bit consuming of my time and attention. And for me, my pregnancy has been a pretty easy one–no morning sickness (I mean NONE), no cravings, no aversions (to food or smells), no spotting, no nothin’. The worst of it has been some not-so-minor back pain, but I am learning to manage that pretty well too.

Nonetheless, being pregnant for me has meant being in an almost constant state of worry–am I pregnant? Is it ectopic? Will it be multiples? Will we hear the heart beat? Will the house be big enough? Will the nursery be big enough? What’s a convertible crib? Do I NEED a convertible crib? Do I WANT one? What do I need to register for? What is being marketed to me that I really DON’T need? Will I need an amnio? Will I do the amnio if I am told I do need it? Will I miscarry because of the amnio? Will I, like my mother and sister, suffer terribly with varicose veins? Will the delivery go okay? Will I need to have a C-section even though we are planning on a vaginal delivery?
Continue Reading »

I am 5 months pregnant and my back is killing me. Now, counting those 5 months is CRAZY. When I got pregnant, I tried to guess my due date before the doctor told it to me. What a joke! I counted nine months from the date of conception. WRONG. So the very first thing I learned about being pregnant is that I was pregnant for two weeks that I was NOT PREGNANT. What??? They count from the first day of your last period. Well, that was crazy. In my case, that day was more than 2 weeks before my date of conception. But whatever. Then I learned that I’d be pregnant for 40 weeks. By my math (40/4), that’s 10 MONTHS. Oh boy. So it’s 40 “10 week months” or 9 “calendar months.” Alls I know is that it’s a lot easier to go by weeks. I mean, I find conflicting info on even how long a trimester is — some say the first trimester is 12 weeks, others 14. So though I am saying I am 5 months pregnant, what I really mean is that I am in my SIXTH (calendar) month, with 5 (calendar) months behind me. Get it? Me neither. Let’s just say I am wrapping up Week 21.

So what’s this got to do with my back? Well, from about week 5 (3 weeks of ACTUALLY being pregnant), I started having lower–I mean really low–back pain. I hadn’t gained any weight and couldn’t understand it. Pregnancy Fact No.3 that I learned is that apparently your pregnant body creates a hormone that loosens and softens the soft tissue and whatnot in your lower back to make room for the growing baby. Great. So my sacrum is outta whack. I was once a devoted yogi, and I knew I needed to start practicing again to strengthen and stretch my back. But, man, I was (and still am) TIRED ALL THE TIME. But I did the yoga and the pain was better. Oh, did I mention I haven’t been in heels for months now, too? Because the pain was better, I slacked off the yoga.

For a solid week now, my back’s been killing me again. I have gained a total of 7 pounds so far (doing pretty good, I thought!) but it hurts to sit, sleep, walk, stand. IT HURTS ALL THE TIME. Except when I am having a hot bath–which a pregnant woman should not do (New Pregnancy Fact No. 4). So now I balance it–I suffer and I take quick hot baths when I can’t take it any longer. And I deal with the guilt that gives me. The doctor recommends I wear a “maternity belt” (and maybe I will try one), but I think that I don’t need a belt, I need EXERCISE. But I am so LAZY and TIRED that it is totally contrary to what I want to do when I actually have the time to do it.

So each day, I think, “how many more days?” Too many. Ugh.