This Family of Four

We started off the weekend downtown to take part in the St. Patrick Day festivities. The greening of the river was the highlight:

I'm not big on parades, or crowds of people, but I did it for the children. They weren't impressed.

Saturday is typically the day I try out new recipes. I found a great one for grilled pizza on Epicurious.com that uses three of my favorite ingredients: bacon, caramelized onions, and Swiss cheese. You can find the recipe here.

I love the chemistry and scent of yeast. As I was working on the dough, I thought about how I should make bread more often. It was a fleeting thought. Maybe next weekend.

Then I thought about how great it would be to make our own cheese. And how fun it would be to have a few (four) free range chickens roaming around. Then I thought about goats and goat cheese. Then, I came back to the present moment, and my dough.

Most of us know how much I love to caramelize onions. This recipe called for one tablespoon of brown sugar to assist in the process. I don't usually use sugar because I believe in my onions and their ability to caramelize on their own. If onions were a cause, I would support them. I would give them all of my money. I believe in them. I'm pretty sure onions believe in a woman's right to choose. That being said, I chose to add the brown sugar, thinking it would be a nice complement to the bacon.

And then the grilling accident occurred:

I was able to salvage it, and I learned an important lesson: charcoal gets hot.

Fiona had picked out pink marshmallows for our impromptu dessert. Sometimes, I go through phases when I say "yes" a lot. Pink marshmallows? Yes. Play in the mud? Yes. Can we get in our swimsuits and you try to get us with the spray bottle? Yes. Can we melt chocolate and dip our pink marshmallows in it? Yes. Why the hell not?

This is what happens when I say "yes" a lot:

We finally got our first seeds planted. Carrots, lettuce and sugar snap peas. I cannot wait much longer for fresh garden vegetables.

On Sunday morning, I woke up to their voices. Both girls were on the top bunk, chatting up a storm as they colored pictures. Fiona told Cyd what a great job she was doing, being only three years old. Cyd said "thank you." So. Damn. Sweet.

I love watching them grow together, sharing this immense love among us. This family of four.

Peace.