“Open up your mouth, Belén. Mmm… I like the way your jaw is widening for your top teeth, but those bottom teeth are going to need more space…,” Stan says thoughtfully, keening forward in his seat to get a better look.
Belén closes her jaw and keeps playing with her puzzle.
Stan looks over at me and says, “I think I should do my own orthodontic work.”
“You mean orthodontic work on her,” I correct him.
My husband is neither an orthodontist, nor a dentist. Not even close. But, he’s not joking. Those of you who know him will also know that he is completely serious about wanting to tackle our daughter’s mouths. In fact, I can see the gleam in his eye as he thinks about outfitting our daughters with retainers, braces and other apparatuses made with his own hands. As much as I admire his skill and handiwork, I am still reluctant to give him the go-ahead with this project. After all, they only get one mouth.
A half hour later, he’s offering me new ideas, hoping I’ll jump on board. While draining some beef broth from the bones, tidbits of meat, and chunks of fat, I can see his mind turning.
“What do you want to do with all of this fat? Render it for tallow to make soap?”
I shake my head. “Nope. I’m not doing that,” I respond quickly. The idea itself isn’t a bad one–we’ve rendered fat before for making soap and Stan’s made several batches himself–but the timing is wrong. I don’t have the energy for soap making and correcting spelling assignments today.
He is now finished separating the broth from the bones and stands back to look at the pile of bones on the counter.
“Hey, I know!” He turns around so he can measure my reaction. “We can use these for carving. We’ll use some caustic to clean them up and they’ll be a great art project. What do you think?”
What. Do. I. Think. (See previous post for how I am doing, in general, for context.)
I think I have a very unique, interesting, special partner. Someone I am attracted to, frustrated with, proud of, and overwhelmed with at times, but never, ever bored with.
PS. These are just a few examples I picked from the last two hours. There were more, even in this limited time period; I just chose these to illustrate my point. Were they enough?
I finished typing this post, while listening to “The Tennessee Waltz.” The music was coming from our living room.
You know how Stan isn’t an orthodontist? Well, he doesn’t play the violin either.
Summer is exhaling one last breath of warm air here. We went on a hike close to home and found some treasures…
The first was a stand of wild asparagus. I now have two locations, marked off in my mind, where I need to get to eight months from now with a sharp knife.
I was planning to save foraging for rose hips for X-country ski season, but these rubies were too plump to pass up. Plus, my daughters decided to play “store” on the trail so picking these hips was the perfect avenue for staying in the game in that my-body-is-here kind of way. Isn’t imaginative play wonderful when you don’t have to do it?
Now I have to add anther picture. I can’t very well end on that note, (of not engaging with my children). It leaves a bad taste in my mouth. This, on the other hand, left a great taste:
handful of chopped cilantro leaves
one clove of garlic, minced
half a purple onion, minced
two avocados, cubed
sprinkle of salt
dash of lime juice
It’s an easy marriage, fresh salsa with fresh guacamole; why make both when you can save a dish?