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Sep. 6th, 2003
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Sep. 6th, 2003 06:43 pmBusy, busy day, today.
Got the best visit in with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
diony and yessod last night and this morning. There was much sleeping in between as well. They treated us to a wonderful Creole breakfast at Lucille's and instead of fighting with Jet about eating breakfast, we gave him a smoothie and he got to get the hostess of the restaurant to color for him in their new coloring book. An Australian waitress even stopped to compliment him on his coloring. He was all smiles. It amused me, greatly, that he was able to attract nearly all the waitresses while sitting on a raised corner by the entry way by himself. I was able to check on him, frequently, using a mirror that was set at just the right angle for me to see exactly what he was up to, and he was just fine as we waded through much good food.
Then John, Jet, and I went up to Estes Park to see the Highland Games. We got very, very well rained on. John got to see bagpipes, kilts, and a friend of his brothers throwing a tabor. I got a horrible craving for haggis. The reason it was horrible is that this is NOT Scotland, and the U.S. Scots have no clue what to do with haggis beyond what they think of as the 'traditional' ingredients, which amount to just the lamb's liver, in huge quantity, (none of the lighter lights or the rich flavor of the heart) a smidgen of onion and the horror of a sad few soggy rolled oats instead of the body and sweetness of plenty of steel cut oats. None of it had been toasted before cooking. So it really looked and smelled like a turd, even slathered with brown sauce. I was very sad. Especially after the delicate, beautifully seasoned (herbs man, HERBs and a breath of garlic and sweet onions and basil and sage), lovely baby haggis a four star restaurant out on the Orkneys had served me nearly ten years ago. That memory abides still. It's probably the source of the terribly unsatisfied craving.
Jet got a good hour on climbing equipment, swings, and slides. He had a great time being twice as small as nearly every other kid and going where they went anyway.
We all got naps, too. Quite the win.
Got the best visit in with
diony and yessod last night and this morning. There was much sleeping in between as well. They treated us to a wonderful Creole breakfast at Lucille's and instead of fighting with Jet about eating breakfast, we gave him a smoothie and he got to get the hostess of the restaurant to color for him in their new coloring book. An Australian waitress even stopped to compliment him on his coloring. He was all smiles. It amused me, greatly, that he was able to attract nearly all the waitresses while sitting on a raised corner by the entry way by himself. I was able to check on him, frequently, using a mirror that was set at just the right angle for me to see exactly what he was up to, and he was just fine as we waded through much good food.Then John, Jet, and I went up to Estes Park to see the Highland Games. We got very, very well rained on. John got to see bagpipes, kilts, and a friend of his brothers throwing a tabor. I got a horrible craving for haggis. The reason it was horrible is that this is NOT Scotland, and the U.S. Scots have no clue what to do with haggis beyond what they think of as the 'traditional' ingredients, which amount to just the lamb's liver, in huge quantity, (none of the lighter lights or the rich flavor of the heart) a smidgen of onion and the horror of a sad few soggy rolled oats instead of the body and sweetness of plenty of steel cut oats. None of it had been toasted before cooking. So it really looked and smelled like a turd, even slathered with brown sauce. I was very sad. Especially after the delicate, beautifully seasoned (herbs man, HERBs and a breath of garlic and sweet onions and basil and sage), lovely baby haggis a four star restaurant out on the Orkneys had served me nearly ten years ago. That memory abides still. It's probably the source of the terribly unsatisfied craving.
Jet got a good hour on climbing equipment, swings, and slides. He had a great time being twice as small as nearly every other kid and going where they went anyway.
We all got naps, too. Quite the win.
(no subject)
Sep. 6th, 2003 06:43 pmBusy, busy day, today.
Got the best visit in withdiony and yessod last night and this morning. There was much sleeping in between as well. They treated us to a wonderful Creole breakfast at Lucille's and instead of fighting with Jet about eating breakfast, we gave him a smoothie and he got to get the hostess of the restaurant to color for him in their new coloring book. An Australian waitress even stopped to compliment him on his coloring. He was all smiles. It amused me, greatly, that he was able to attract nearly all the waitresses while sitting on a raised corner by the entry way by himself. I was able to check on him, frequently, using a mirror that was set at just the right angle for me to see exactly what he was up to, and he was just fine as we waded through much good food.
Then John, Jet, and I went up to Estes Park to see the Highland Games. We got very, very well rained on. John got to see bagpipes, kilts, and a friend of his brothers throwing a tabor. I got a horrible craving for haggis. The reason it was horrible is that this is NOT Scotland, and the U.S. Scots have no clue what to do with haggis beyond what they think of as the 'traditional' ingredients, which amount to just the lamb's liver, in huge quantity, (none of the lighter lights or the rich flavor of the heart) a smidgen of onion and the horror of a sad few soggy rolled oats instead of the body and sweetness of plenty of steel cut oats. None of it had been toasted before cooking. So it really looked and smelled like a turd, even slathered with brown sauce. I was very sad. Especially after the delicate, beautifully seasoned (herbs man, HERBs and a breath of garlic and sweet onions and basil and sage), lovely baby haggis a four star restaurant out on the Orkneys had served me nearly ten years ago. That memory abides still. It's probably the source of the terribly unsatisfied craving.
Jet got a good hour on climbing equipment, swings, and slides. He had a great time being twice as small as nearly every other kid and going where they went anyway.
We all got naps, too. Quite the win.
Got the best visit in with
diony and yessod last night and this morning. There was much sleeping in between as well. They treated us to a wonderful Creole breakfast at Lucille's and instead of fighting with Jet about eating breakfast, we gave him a smoothie and he got to get the hostess of the restaurant to color for him in their new coloring book. An Australian waitress even stopped to compliment him on his coloring. He was all smiles. It amused me, greatly, that he was able to attract nearly all the waitresses while sitting on a raised corner by the entry way by himself. I was able to check on him, frequently, using a mirror that was set at just the right angle for me to see exactly what he was up to, and he was just fine as we waded through much good food.Then John, Jet, and I went up to Estes Park to see the Highland Games. We got very, very well rained on. John got to see bagpipes, kilts, and a friend of his brothers throwing a tabor. I got a horrible craving for haggis. The reason it was horrible is that this is NOT Scotland, and the U.S. Scots have no clue what to do with haggis beyond what they think of as the 'traditional' ingredients, which amount to just the lamb's liver, in huge quantity, (none of the lighter lights or the rich flavor of the heart) a smidgen of onion and the horror of a sad few soggy rolled oats instead of the body and sweetness of plenty of steel cut oats. None of it had been toasted before cooking. So it really looked and smelled like a turd, even slathered with brown sauce. I was very sad. Especially after the delicate, beautifully seasoned (herbs man, HERBs and a breath of garlic and sweet onions and basil and sage), lovely baby haggis a four star restaurant out on the Orkneys had served me nearly ten years ago. That memory abides still. It's probably the source of the terribly unsatisfied craving.
Jet got a good hour on climbing equipment, swings, and slides. He had a great time being twice as small as nearly every other kid and going where they went anyway.
We all got naps, too. Quite the win.
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