Pummywumpkins

On Monday, while One was locked in mortal battle with the DC permit office, Momo took Five, Brother Z and me on a different--less engaging--kind of crusade (the crusade against bad teeth and sick children). We woke up at 5:30 a.m., drove to the doctor's office, filled out forms, waited in line, got our flu shots, drove to the dental center, filled out more forms and spent several hours getting our teeth scratched. Because our agenda was neither thrilling nor enjoyable, Momo decided to throw in something to sweeten the deal. So, after our appointments, unable to eat or move our left arms, we headed to Rock Creek Farm in Broomfield, Co. We picked pumpkins, meandered through the corn maze, perused autumnal goodies, and got to know a particularly affable black and orange speckled rooster.

To finish the day we indulged in the perfect harvest meal: super scrumptious pumpkin ricotta rigatoni, carottes fouettées (recipe below), and lemon pepper broccoli. I love fall!

Carottes Fouettées

10 Carrots (large)

1/2 C. Butter

Roasted Garlic

Pepper

Salt

Cream or Milk

Powdered Ginger

Curry Powder

Stew carrots in warm salted water until tender. Remove from water and place in blender or food processor. Mix on high and add approximately 1/2 C. butter, garlic, pepper, salt, powdered ginger and curry powder to taste. When you have the desired flavor, add 2-4 tablespoons of cream or milk until you get a consistency similar to mashed potatoes. Voila!

Just because...

This has nothing to do with anything really, except that I needed something to brighten my day, and thought y'all might enjoy it too!

Fall & in love...

I love autumn. I love pretty much everything about it. I love the weather, and the colors. I love eating fresh crisp apples of a fresh crisp day. I love how it’s cold enough to turn my cheeks, lips, and nose bright red, but warm enough that it doesn't sting. I love wearing boots, scarves, and corduroy, carving pumpkins, and braiding head-wreaths out of leaves.

This weekend Dr. P and I simply basked in the loveliness of the season, and we have the pictures to prove it!

Friday: Milkshakes at Z Burger (they boast a truly awesome menu of 75 flavors)
with Doctors P, T, & D

Saturday: Benefit Concert for Tahirih,
a great organization that protects women and girls from violence

Though I ran out of batteries taking pictures of the lake...
Dr. S and one of the guys' faculty members played brilliantly in their respective bands:
Palpable Thrill and Prescription for disaster

and to top it off

on Monday we had a meeting with the Girl Scouts
and they brought COOKIES!

A birthday Poem

Oh Fivey, sweet Fivey, who makes dirty jokes
and makes us all laugh at her most funny pokes

And awes us with prose so adept and spot on
that none can help but to give flatt'ry and fawn

Your petite intellectual head doesn't swell
regardless of how many things you do well

So on this the day of your laudable birth
i hope you have time for some lithfull mirth

Happy Birth Day to you, my beloved little sis
I'm glad your a girl and avoided the bris.

PS. Follow me while I get ready for TEDMED on Twitter. Find us @fivetdsisters!

Westward Ho!

Here are a couple belated gems from our recent trip to Utah.

*I'm still getting a hang of the more technical aspects of blogging. As soon as I figure out how to get my camera and computer to make nice, I'll put up more of these cuties each week. I know they're the best part :-)

How to get a D.C. building permit, when conventional methods fail.

I've had a busy day.

Mr. One and I bought a house this summer. It is a shabby cousin to our cute old place, situated just around the corner from where we have been perfectly happy for nearly five years. Truth be told, we really had no reason to move. But a good price, bigger-than-a-parking-place yard and bright Southern exposure dazed me into forgetting the agonies of home improvement. So, we signed on the dotted line. And agony it is. Epically. Delayed. Agony.

Now, I don't like to speak ill of people, but thanks to a no-good lying charlatan of a non-engineer, we needed to find a new architect, redraft our plans and restart the entire permitting process for the main construction project from scratch, setting us back by months. After being thusly burned, Mr. One's approach this time around is very... hands on.

The D.C. permit office is a tormented web of impotent low-level bureaucrats who don't like to share. And Mr. One has lost days of his life there, brandishing our obese roll of drawings from one office to the next, coming home with each signature like the hide of a Nemean lion. But still, the final permit remained elusive. We, meanwhile, remained at Mimo's house.

Finally, after untold labors (on his part) and endless broken promises (on their part), Mr. One believed today could be The Day. But, thanks to other obligations, he couldn't make it personally for the Last Great Battle. So he sent in the B Team. Failure was not an option. (We're sleeping on bunk beds, for crying out loud!)

So, which of the following tactics did I employ to accomplish my mission?

1) Bringing both children with me. On purpose. As props.

2) Casually mentioning, "I walked all the way from Northeast, so I am certainly not in a hurry to leave, but the kids might not do very well come nap time...."

3) Deciding up front that leaving with a permit was more important than leaving with my dignity.

4) Two words: Strategic tears.

The answer is, of course, 5) all of the above. And I am proud to say we were victorious.

I think the tutu was the clincher.

P.S. Stay tuned for more pictures!

What's long, hard, and scatters warm white deliciousness when things heat up?*

Popcorn on the cob, of course!

Momo, Two, Four, and Brother Z discovered this quirky treat when traveling through the emerald prairies of western Ohio. Popcorn on the cob adds an extra dose of novelty to an already enjoyable activity -- who doesn't love to soak up waves of radiation staring at an expanding popcorn bag through a gloriously translucent microwave door? And listening to the frantic shots of those tiny kernels bursting into clouds of salty goodness? Unbeatable. We buttered the popcorn cob and put it into a paper bag before nuking it, but there are many different ways to skin this cat. . . I mean cob.


Get some ears of popcorn (and some tips for preparing it) here

*I apologize to anyone who was anticipating a. . . happier ending to this post. We're not that kind of blog