conversations

This morning, the Toddles had a conversation with me.

To be fair, we've had conversations before, mostly consisting of this:
Oh, is this [food] for me?
*shakes head*
is it for you?
*opens mouth and leans forward*
Ah!

We repeat this as necessary.

This time, however, it was more the Toddles, trying earnestly to communicate with me. And perhaps it was less of a conversation than a monologue with audience participation - you decide. Here's how it went:

[The Toddles enters the room, holding a book]
[holding up the book] Booh!
[pause, checking to be sure that I'm listening] Bah!
[cocks head] Nah!
[laughs]

Translation: the Toddles came into the room, holding a book. Book! he said. It's a Bartholomew book! He says 'nah!'

I had to agree. Bartholomew (also called 'Ba' in the book) is funny when he says 'nah.'
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Later today, the Eldest took a bath. Sternly warned against splashing water, he was testing this boundary by creating big waves. Look, Mum, I'm an earthquake!
I thought it over. He is, you know. But extremely lovable, for all of that.
******

The past few days have been full of conversations: with the Eldest, about the on-going problem of rough play in the classroom (Mum, we push X and he laughs!), with the school we applied to, with my publisher over my latest column, and with various folks about the grant offered to our synagogue.

While I can see the morass of work that this grant offers, I am temporarily relishing the opportunity to spend some time with some lovely folks, having playdates while doing a quick bit of conferring about some of the hurdles. One such conversation sparked a desire to reinvent some of my wheat-based pasta recipes, only to discover that no such reinvention is needed. Here it is below! Time to dig out the rest of the book.

I must confess that all of this conversing has inspired nothing more than a desire to stay home. Quietly. I enjoy my social opportunities when I get them, but I feel somewhat overwhelmed by too many nights out working, meeting, writing. It's not stress, it's the overuse of a typically underused social muscle.

Just in time for the Eldest's birthday bash, which metamorphosed from 'you can invite one child per year, sweets,' into a big family affair. Yowza.

Hmm. Maybe I'll serve the pasta?
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Cranberry Pasta
serves 6. Adapted slightly from James McNair's Cold Pasta.

1 bag pasta - if gluten free, use Tinkyada pasta. Be warned: the frilly shapes tend to fall apart with the slightest provocation. I recommend the sturdy shapes: penne, elbows, etc.

sauce:
just under 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 cloves of garlic, pressed
4-5 Tb fresh lemon juice
1/4 tsp cumin, ground
1 and 1/2 tsp tumeric
sea salt
fresh pepper
1 tsp sugar
1/4 cup fresh, chopped parsley
1/4 cup fresh, chopped mint OR 1 TB dried crumbled mint
1/2 cup dried cranberries
3-4 chopped scallions
optional: 1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro, pine nuts (when feeding Imperfects, omit or use peanut-free sunflower seeds)

Cook pasta, then pour into a colander. Rinse briefly under water, then toss with sauce.

Note: this pasta looks very pretty, with the red cranberries, the green herbs and the yellow sauced pasta. Serve it for any occasion and watch guests ooh and ahh.