We have traveled quite a bit over the past month. We had three weddings in five weeks, and while all of them were extraordinary affairs populated by people I love, I was in dire need of a homebody weekend featuring unscheduled expanses of time and perfect weather.
That is just what I got.
So though I have nothing exciting or impressive to share, I wanted to tell you about the little mundane bits that were satisfying in a homey way:
1. I discovered baking soda as a household cleaner. Okay, I can already feel your eyeballs glancing up to the address bar, wondering if you should be returning some email right now instead of reading about housecleaning of all things but really, friends, this stuff works! I usually use white vinegar but you can't really scrub with the stuff. Enter baking soda. Sprinkle some on your bathtub and get out the sponge. As Gabriel would say, woah. Are those awful and basically useless cleaning products filling up aisle after aisle Madison Ave's nasty gift to us? Thanks, Don Draper. Thanks but no thanks.
2. In my quest to do such household chores during my children's waking hours (so I can read more than 6 pages of the New Yorker at a time once they do go to bed) I spent some time this afternoon outside with Gabriel washing windows. I know, at this point you are thinking what has happened to Meagan? Washing WINDOWS?! Well, it was that sort of day, and I don't think we ever did clean them when we moved into this sad neglected house. Ew.
I gave Gabriel some of the newspaper I was using, and we merrily scrubbed away together. Occasionally he would say: Keen! Keening! Yes, yes, thank you for helping me to clean. We are cleaning. Eventually he got bored so I filled a bucket with water and he rushed to get out his special old paintbrush. So industrious, this child!
Please do try this at home, especially those of you with toddlers. When we first discovered it, painting with water on the sidewalk was nothing less than a revelation! (Thank you to Milena for loaning us her great book First Art). Gabriel loves to paint the walls of the house, the railing of the back deck, you name it. We started working on letters today, painting big As and Bs and of course Gs. At the time Frances was taking a super long nap - sleeping off a cold - but usually she joins in, drawing elaborate 'stories' with water on the ground. Quick, while the beautiful weather lasts. Hit the sidewalk with a bucket and brush, and bring a novel for yourself.
3. You may know that I love the Goya aisle in the grocery. I love all the dried peas and beans in their bags snuggled up next to one another. I love the colors. I love the bulk foods section in Whole Foods. (Frances recently explained to an adult acquaintance that "we're really into bulk foods.") I would like to stick my hands in all the bins and feel my fingers submerged in the cool smooth navy beans and yellow pellets of millet. Weird, I know.
So how could there be a new legume, something I hadn't yet tried? Somehow I never brought home those enormous white beans. The bag I bought was Goya, labeled Giant Lima Beans. They are surprisingly quick to cook, very creamy and buttery, and the cooking liquid makes a hearty, seasonally just-right broth. I simmered them with a little olive oil, salt, and a lot of sage leaves from the almost-all-done herbs growing outside. Tonight I added some of them to sauteed eggplant, bell peppers, and mushrooms with some beany broth and half a jar of leftover Trader Joe's pizza sauce. Really, really good! A little hill of parmesan on top (not for my man Sin Queso, of course) and brown rice below. Some of you are snickering. But this is the sort of meal I adore; makes me feel so good. I'm out for some more huge white beans right now.
Okay, not really.
I think what this weekend was good for was realizing there can be pleasure in these everyday tasks if I can do them without feeling rushed and in the company of my family -- that is, if Mike is around to help and lend some solidarity to the whole domestic endeavor, if it all feels like part of something greater and beautiful, even. There actually is something beautiful about washing windows with an almost 18 month old on a sunny October day. Now, how to bring that feeling into the slog of a dreary Wednesday afternoon?
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