Green Noodles (almost)

Growing up, we spent a lot of time at my Nonie’s house. She was the most old fashioned person I have ever known. She had an old wash machine that I believe had a crank for the rinse cycle and you had to run each item through. I would never do laundry if I had that washer, what a hassle. She also had the oldest lawn mower which was pretty much a metal wheel with blades. We spent a lot of time in her kitchen which had your basic old and sturdy items, like this pasta maker and rolling pin.

I’ve been thinking of making my own pasta for some odd reason and was happy to hear that my mom had the trusty, old “Altea Noodle Machine” complete with recipes and instructions that were of course in Italian first, English second.

I went with the Green Noodle. (wheat flour, spinach, eggs and oil)

(I do not know why these pictures are so small and can't figure out how to change it)
The best part of the recipe is it says “is specially good with just fried butter and a heaping serving of grated cheese.” What isn’t good with butter and cheese? Apparently, Europeans measure by weight instead of cups and I do not own a scale. I googled that approximately 3.5 cups was a pound but should’ve used more because Italians are generous when it comes to food.
Here's Kayla mixing the dough.

It looks doable so I put it through the machine but was wrong; it turned out to be a big pile of nasty green shit.

I should’ve started with the basic recipe. I was determined so I tried again and the end result was another green mess. I added flour and used a rolling pin to thin out the dough but eventually figured out how to get the right texture though the machine.

Run it though. Switch the handle to the fat noodle. Run it through again. Switch the handle back to flat. Make another batch. Switching the handle was the most frustrating part. Ava did a great job cranking the machine.

The recipe says serves four. This is how many noodles we had left even after cooking a batch for four.

I guess a serving size was bigger back then.
Eating with heaping amounts of butter and cheese. Yum.

Overall, this was not a major success and nothing like Nonie's. I will definately try this again with the basic dough and follow the directions exactly. I'm not sure if it was worth the effort since my end result was not as great as I hoped. They tasted great but looked awful. I blame the spinach for everything. I froze the rest after they hardened.

uneventfully great day

Some days I feel like I am rushing around like an idiot and can’t get anything accomplished. The simplest tasks are the hugest deal and going to the DMV seems damn near impossible. Other days I feel like a real go getter, almost as if I have been given at least 26 hours in a day and have time to accomplish everything. Most of my days are average and uneventful.
I start by waking up between 6:30 and 7:30, tip toe down stairs, hoping I don’t wake my kids up because I am not ready to deal with life yet, check my phone, start laundry, think about showering but don’t. Kids wake up, Kayla cries for no reason; they beg for breakfast within the first 15 minutes, I pour cereal, only to realize we are out of milk. I tell them to eat dry cereal and if their lucky we’ll go to Dunkin Donuts because by this point I’m already tired. Kids go back upstairs to get dressed; Kayla cries because she’s too tired to put clothes on and doesn’t want to wear what I picked out. Her tantrum lasts for what seems like hours and she finally gets dressed in the original outfit all by herself after being bribed with Dunkin Donuts. I grab my winning sip and scratch coupon and to my surprise someone has scratched all of the other answers and I’m pissed. Now we’ll never get our free hash browns and my is day ruined. We go anyway after warning the kids not to touch my stuff. Luckily, they girls are cute and they end up getting free donuts after all. I whine to the lady at the register that I really did know the right answer for the free hash browns and she gives them to me anyway. My coffee tastes like shit and I ‘m annoyed because it tastes different every time I go there. I drop the kids off at school and am ready to enjoy the day.

I think about working out but decide to do it later, clean the house, switch loads of laundry and get annoyed at all of the stains, too lazy to scrub so I throw them out. This gets me thinking about throwing more stuff out, so I head to my closet and want to get rid of everything in there and get a whole new wardrobe. I finally decide to get dressed for the day only to realize the same thing I do every day, nothing fits me except leggings and sweatpants. This reminds me I wanted to work out, so I stay in the same sweatpants and get on the treadmill. I am already thinking about lunch and dinner by this point and head to the store. I get distracted by a phone call; forget my grocery list and I’m pissed. I tell the bagger at the store to please use my reusable bags and fill them as much as possible. Out of spite, he wraps everything in a plastic bag and puts them in the reusable, then puts two items per bag in every bag after that. He talks to me about the economy and how his hours are being cut. I think they’re probably being cut because of improper bagging. I put the groceries away while eating every snack item I just bought, make dinner, think about taking a shower again but get distracted my phone and now the kids are home from school.
We eat lunch, talk about school, clean the house and paint nails. They play outside, I check on them from the window periodically. I find them on top of the air conditioner and in a rose bush. Scratches are up and down both of their legs. They cry and act like they can’t walk. They are fine so we go for a walk, all the way to the high school where we get a work permit. Ava rides her bike (without training wheels) the whole way. She does great. Kayla is walking and gets distracted by everything and whines that she needs to be carried. On the way back Ava takes a major fall and is screaming and crying but we are about a block behind her. A young man sitting on the porch helps her and her bike up, while I scoop up Kayla who is sitting on the ground behind me crying for no reason. The man offers us a ride home and I say no. The whole way home I think about how anyone can kidnap Ava since I am letting her ride ahead of us. I also think about how I wish I would have taken the ride from a stranger. I smile and say hi to everyone we pass in hopes they will offer us a ride too. Nobody does. We eventually make it home.

I put on the TV, finally take a shower and get ready for work and as usual I am rushing around feeling like I am running late.
This is a sample of how my days are uneventfully great and I’m sure yours will be too now that you know a little more about mine.

You can call me Flower

We just got back from San Diego and here I am dreaming of another vacation. Perhaps, Disney. We have been watching the classic Disney films lately. I completely forgot about Bambi until my daughter got it for her birthday. Always cute.

A big fancy wedding

I never had a big fancy wedding and I really don’t care, except sometimes. Sometimes I wish I had a beautiful dress with fancy hair and make-up and hundreds of people watching me walk down the aisle. Sometimes I wish I had a dance with my dad or a first dance with my husband. Then the reality hits me that there is way too many details involved with planning a wedding and I was better off with the one week notice Vegas wedding. Here’s how the proposal went down, him: “I miss going to Vegas every Easter weekend. Do you want to go next weekend?” Me: “ok, sure.” Him: “Ok, do you want to just get married then?” Me: “ok, sure.” That’s pretty much it. It turned out fine as far as I can remember. All the stress, planning and finances would probably cause my marriage to fail before it even started. The marriage isn’t about the wedding anyway. I don’t remember ever planning or dreaming about my wedding as a child, teen or an adult. Girly stuff really wasn’t my thing back then. My kids, however, are super girly and are planning thiers already. I better start saving now.

This is Ava watching a wedding on from the beach in San Diego. It was the cutest thing. I’m sure she is dreaming of being the bride. The bride at this wedding was so nice and gave the girls some flowers later that evening.

This is her as a flower girl right before she turned 2.

This is her as a flower girl again. I wish both of my girls get to be flower girls together one day. They play wedding all time. Ava likes fancy dresses, fancy cakes and details. She will have a big fancy wedding one day. I hope my princesses both have thier dream wedding. I will help plan it and live through it like it was my own fancy wedding. I can’t wait! I guess I do love a big fancy wedding after all.

No Baby

At least once a week, whether it be family, friends or strangers, someone asks “when are you are going to have another?” or “Don’t you want to try for a boy?” NO, I do not want another child. I am perfectly happy with the two I have. Do you know how much baby would screw up my life right now? Do you know how much I could screw up a baby’s life? Raising a child is a huge deal and more of a responsibility then I ever wanted. I don’t know why nobody mentioned this to me before I decided to have kids. Now that I know, I do not want more, ever.

Holding a newborn baby does not make me get that feeling people talk about. It makes me want to go to the gynecologist and get reassured that my birth control is working. I love being able to leave the house with little supplies and no diaper bag and not having to drag the car seat carrier around anywhere. I like not lugging things around. I like knowing why someone is crying. I like people to answer my questions and have a two sided conversations. Babies cannot do any of that, they really can’t do much of anything. Life with a baby is plain hard. That being said, I do not hate babies, I just do not want another one of my own. I do not mind watching someone else’s baby.
My point is a kid is a huge responsibility for your entire life and two is enough for me, thanks for asking. I truly love my kids and wouldn't trade them for anything.

Is Palm Sunday a Holiday?

Palm Sunday was one of my favorite traditions/holidays growing up. We went to church and grabbed as many palms as we could. We went back to my Nonie's and put them in the bathtub filled with water. All of us gathered around the table to eat and make crosses and baskets out of the palms. I don't know why we called them baskets, they look more like a cornucopia or pyramid type thing to me.

As an adult, I don't remember doing anything for Palm Sunday. I've only considered myself an adult for the last few years so this is probably why. We haven't had a gathering for this holiday (is it a holiday?)since Nonie died. This year my aunt had the party. Nobody remembered how to "start" the palms but her and I and nobody really wanted to do any except me. Thankfully, we didn't have a whole tub full.
Sadly, Palm Sunday has no religious value to me. I still consider myself a Catholic but… one day I will tell you my feelings on Catholicism.

It was a nice day to eat and weave. I still like Palm Sunday.