Les updates de la maison de Eliza

Here is Barney being inappropriate with one of Lucy’s Little Ponies:

He really likes their hair and grooms them, and Lucy’s all scandalized, “WHY BIY-NEY LICKIN THAT PONY’S HAY-UH?”


Lucy wrote some letters. That is an O, a C, and an L, she told me confidently. She told me there was a V in there too, but it was not as clearly executed so I can’t vouch for it. Anyway, obviously, she is a genius:


A recent culinary experiment:
Chocolate-covered salted tahini-honey caramel.
It is very delicious, but I was excessively paranoid about burning the honey and pulled it off the stove too quickly to mix in the tahini. A candy thermometer would not be amiss, but precision is for chumps, I guess. Anyway, left out at room temperature, it tends to get oozy, so I’ve been storing it in the freezer, and then whacking it on the counter to break off a chunk every time I want to eat one, because in its solid state, it cannot. be. cut. Behold:


First reservoir run of the year! I haven’t been since shortly before Christmas because it’s impossible to run it when it’s been snowing, and then it was melting and refreezing and I already have one shattered kneecap so thanks but no thanks. Some of the paths are underwater, still, but it’s real purty:

Eliza and I went for a run yesterday in the neighborhood, and she decided she wanted to listen to her ipod Nano. She inherited said Nano from me, and when she did, she also claimed ownership of a running holder/strap contraption, which she deployed yesterday. Here’s the thing: I used to wrap it around my upper arm. She strapped the thing around her waist. I was torn betwixt laughter and despair.


The other night, I dreamt that I was on the lam, and somehow, Robert Downey Jr was involved. He gave me a Don Draper-as-child bowl haircut as a disguise. I was torn between “Ooooh! RDJ has his hands on me!” and “Oh God that is the WORST haircut EVER.”


Moe has instituted her springtime escape protocol again, where she runs into the backyard whenever the door is not immediately slammed in her face. She books it to the back corner of the yard, climbs 5 feet up a tree all “FREEDOM, BITCHES!” and then carefully climbs back down and consents to be scooped up and dumped back inside. Yesterday Jim and I did not run after her and were futzing around inside and every so often we’d open the door and ask her if she wanted to come in. She did NOT know what to do with that. Clearly she wanted inside, because she was sitting in front of the door yowling at us. But we broke the social contract by not forcibly bringing her indoors and the free will thing really broke her brain.


Eliza told me that she wants to learn to make more things so yesterday I taught her about folding egg whites into batter to make lemon poppyseed muffins (excellent), and she made the filling for an apple pie and although the crust was store bought, was in charge of putting it on. The recipe we use calls for lemon and orange juice in the apple mixture, and we also added zest. Both items were very good, and she is rightfully proud of her efforts.

Lucy was involved in that she stood on a chair in the vicinity of the baking and yelled, “CAN I HAVE A NODDAH DZOB?” at regular intervals and then we would let her put poppy seeds into the batter or scoop out yogurt or something. She does not like the mixer, which is why her involvement during baking is limited. As soon as I mention the mixer she proactively claps her hands over her ears. This is an improvement, though, because she used to run out of the room.


Captain America: The Winter Soldier: Consider yourselves flailed at. Capslock keysmash goes here.

Tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Les updates de la maison de Eliza

  1. Mama says:

    So, who is leading the insanity? The kids or the cats? Not that it matters, they are all utterly entertaining.

  2. Mama says:

    I bet Lucy was testing your knowledge of the ABCs.

  3. karen says:

    My Dad used to drive the kids crazy by singing the alphabet all out of order and letting them “correct” him. “No! Grandpa! It’s a, b, C, d!”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *