Tag Archives: summertime at the cottage

get native

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my great indulgence is to be up north  for as much of the summer as I can

(***don’t be too jealous, it doesn’t come without very hard and strange work. I worked backwards from this dream to make it possible)

eager to feel again what we did when we were little and days turned to nights turned to days and then in what felt like forever, it was time to return to the city

but somewhere there must be  a memo going around that grown woman should stay clothed, never swim and certainly never dunk under

we must stay on the sidelines and act serious and look good

I intentionally missed this memo

While true my better look is when I am dry and clothed- I love getting native

After you have been swimming and playing for hours in your bathing suit, you forget your age, you forget your life and the roles you play, you forget what is hard and what hurts and what can’t be forgotten

You feel so clean

Later you go up to finally put on some ugly cottage clothes like your daughter’s best friend’s little sister’s tank top hand me down from 7 years ago and those ugly cut offs you love that remind you of happiness- because why not- and you peel off your damp bikini top in front of the mirror and you see yourself and laugh

who is that?

I forgot my age

I forgot my vanity

and you look closer and there is something on your damp, cold, white,  absolutely defying gravity left breast (ok I made that last part up) and it is a flattened  dead minnow

and you smile

because it is a beautiful thing to get native

and feel 8 again

 

Don’t you love all this about summer? I require it to feel right. And a little VAGABONDER- my favourite summer french verb- click here for a full on translation and picture of me with no top on and the dead minnow 

 

 

buttered buns

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So after the 12 requisite hours that my children, who had just returned from camp, can hate me, roll their eyes at me, cry with the sadness that finds them back in civilization with rules and people older than them, they slowly come back to me in a subtle dance I call “I know who butters my bun.”

My eldest was at dinner the second night, her bare feet under the table near my bare feet and she started to play footsies with me. Subconsciously. Slowly as she spoke and told her stories she began winding her legs around mine.

I don’t comment on this rapidly returning affection for fear I could make it disappear. I eat it up quietly. Deliciously.

Later that night she snuggles up to me on the couch, lying on me and pulling my arm around her.

The younger one grabs me around the waist from the back while I am washing dishes  and gives me a squeeze.

They are  back.

In fact they are part of one of my favourite summer memories and it just happened this weekend- click here to hold on to summer

cooking is like love

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“Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon
or not at all.”

 



While it may seem a stretch to put a recipe on a site about separation and divorce, I make the  connection.

For me cooking for my children and having them walk into a house with a good smell- something homemade ready for them- a homemade soup after school, a banana  bread  or a roast chicken   and mash potatoes dinner -has always felt like an expression of  love and comfort .

When I first separated this was even more important-   comfort  came from good warm food made with love. It is always surprising how far these simple things go.

Food is something I am passionate about – I like to think about it, talk about it and participate in it.  I remember eating melba toast once on a diet 20 years ago and thinking- this tastes like death.

This sums it up pretty well

      “I’ve been on a diet for two weeks and all  I’ve lost is two weeks. “

Totie Fields

but -at the same time if you want to avoid dieting-

“Never eat more than you can lift.”
  Miss Piggy

This is something I have now made for almost everyone I care about. It is like a big pancake- it is simple and yummy and fresh -my three requisites for cooking/eating. I have made it for 2, 4, 8 and 12 people (this one serves 4). -Enjoy.

dutch babies

4 eggs

1 cup milk

1 cup flour

oven 425F

throw a hunk of butter into an ovenproof dish and pop in oven while it is preheating to melt it.

mix all ingredients in bowl

pour into ovenproof dish

bake 20-25 minutes

dust with icing sugar, cut , serve with berries and maple syrup.

As Julia Child said you don’t have to cook fancy or complicated masterpieces – just good food from fresh ingredients.
Want another easy recipe for a crowd of  kids? click here for SMORES done in the oven. Big messy hit at art camp