Sorry, I am running out of time for a real post today. So, here are some recent pictures of the Mang Farm. Enjoy!
PS: LEAVE A COMMENT ON YESTERDAY'S BLOG FOR A CHANCE TO WIN SOME AWESOME KNIVES! I WILL DRAW THE WINNER ON FRIDAY!
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I was blissfully sawing logs thanks to the shot of NyQuil I took at bedtime, when the sound of Maggie growling roused me from my slumber. However, after a few seconds of sensory recovery, I heard it too: chirping, clicking, and mumbling coming from the backyard. Blearily, I stumbled into the living room and found Tim sleeping on the couch after a long night of work. For a second, I thought maybe the sounds came from his laptop, but Maggie lunged towards the patio door, ears pointed all the way up to Red Alert.
I opened the door, and she dashed away into the night towards a bush in the corner of our yard. There were signs of struggle, some yelps, and then I saw them: 1...2...3 raccoons raced up the telephone pole in our yard, terrified of the fox-faced, haggis-shaped creature lunging toward them, despite outweighing her by at least 20 pounds each. She growled at them to stay there, goddammit, if they knew what was good for them. They waved their eerily human-like fists at her and growled back, "Next time, you mangy mutt!"
The two smarter ones jumped into the yard next door, foreclosed on and abandoned a couple months prior. The third stayed up there, whimpering pathetically, not wanting to take the chance to run to safety, in case that corgi knew how to scale walls and climb poles too.
My heart sank when I saw that the chicken coop door was wide open. We stopped closing it months ago, since the hens had shown us they were much happier going in and out as they pleased. But now I was cursing my soft-heartedness, since raccoons are notoriously evil chicken torturers and thieves, imagining the bloody scene awaiting me. By then, Tim stumbled out with a flashlight but no glasses, so he somehow missed the 50-pound creature finally scampering into the neighbor's yard to join his brothers, but despite the fact that he probably thought I made the whole thing up, he nonetheless agreed to check out the coop because I could not bear to see them. He is good-natured and useful in that way.
Thank goodness, the raccoons were on their way TO supper, not on their way out like I had feared. Apparently they were so excited about their meal, they could not shut up about it on the way there, maybe swapping recipes for chicken fricassee. I could see them gesturing with their freaky hands how they would twist our girls' heads off, pluck their feathers out one by one, then sling them behind their shoulders like sacks of loot back to their burrow, where a Dutch oven and a warm fire awaited them. But at least for today, their plans for a feast were thwarted by an iron-hearted corgi with a moderate case of hip dysplasia and a major case of chutzpah.
I couldn't decide how to show my appreciation, since she usually considers herself well above displays of sentimentality and gratuitous affection, so I patted her head and told her she was a good dog. She accepted the compliment with what I can only describe as proper British stoicism, so I think the message got through.
Oh, the neverending adventures of the suburban farm!
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I see that it has been a full month since I last blogged. We shall have to remedy this.
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Oscar wakes up this morning at 4:47, whining to go outside. This is an hour early for him, but I throw on a sweatshirt and pick him up. The motion sensor spotlight attached to the garage clicks on to greet us. The chickens grumble at our intrusion from inside the coop.
The rooftops are covered with frost, the grass crunches underneath my slippers, palm fronds litter the streets, Oscar's pee steams like coffee...now and for the next couple hours at least, it really feels like winter here in Long Beach.
My heart is heavy because my friend lost his dad yesterday after a long fight with cancer. I am acutely aware of how the air feels when I breathe it, sharp and cold as it goes in, yet warmed up by the time I exhale.
And for now at least, I am so grateful to be here, for the opportunity to experience the quiet before the flurry of life and activity that commences when the light strikes the horizon. I tell myself to remain grateful once the flurry does commence.
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PS: So many things have happened since the last time I truly wrote on here. Emi is at yet another new school, Tim has a time-intensive new job, Isaac is struggling with making and keeping friends, I am very busy trying to juggle an increased workload with the increased domestic responsibility. I'm also not feeling very reflective as of late, therefore my radio silence. I steal blips of material comfort from food, Facebook, and retail therapy. If left to my own devices, I will turn into one the passengers of the Axium in "Wall-E." I need to metaphorically get off my hover chair.
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PPS: Tim and I are deep in the grips of LINsanity. We spent our Valentine's dinner reading up on his game that day, watching this clip over and over again:
Wow, right?
He's amazing. He will continue to amaze. And he went to HARVARD??? Be still my ajumma heart!
Tim is absolutely in love. He even has LINsomnia; he stays up to ungodly hours devouring articles, watching game clips, learning about basketball and how Lin approaches it. It's cute to see him get into sports.
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PPPS: How YOU doin'?
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I have been completely MIA since the holidays, and for this I apologize, especially since I posted up this huge confession which was promptly followed-up by an ill-timed promotional post, then another post that had you imagining me in tacky underwear...then poof! I disappear. Totally bad form. Mea culpa!
Here's the "Reader's Digest" version of what we've been up to:
January 1:
Happy New Year! The kids bowed to us, their aunts, and their grandparents for money. We ate rice cake and dumpling soup.
January 2:
We got on a boat! It was a bit surreal looking at your own city through a tourist's eyes.
January 3:
We saw dolphins off the coast of Catalina!
January 4:
¡Viva México!
...and Emi turned 5!
January 5:
Day at sea...and I went so stir-crazy, I hallucinated that our towels turned into sea creatures.
January 6:
We docked early in the morning and walked off the ship. We grabbed a cab and were home in 15 minutes. Kinda nice living in a port city! I then headed over to my parents' house to pick up Oscar. Oh goodness. I don't think I properly introduced Oscar to you all!
This is Oscar. Hello, world!
January 7:
Mostly spent the day gathering vacation photos and feeling like I was still on a boat whenever I sat down.
January 8:
Started getting ready for the week ahead. I made the following resolutions:
January 9:
Back to school! Isaac joined a basketball league, and we had our first practice today. I already broke resolution #3 because now I wonder if something is just clinically wrong with him...he thought it would be funny, or charming, or something, to pretend to kiss his obviously-uncomfortable teammate...in front of his uber-sports-fan dad. Wince. On the drive home, I reminded him for seriously the ten-thousandth time that kissing, touching, peeing and pooing, and private parts are all off-limits for him in terms of jokes and/or gestures, since he obviously cannot handle all the connotations involved. He agreed, but seriously, he does something like this everyday, and I am getting very worried.
AAAAAAAUGH!!!!! Broke resolution #3 again!
Ugh, this might be the year I get my first grey hair; I cannot deal with this stuff gracefully. I need a hug. And some advice. HALP. ME. PLEASE.
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Anyway! Now you're all caught up. We are, as always, a lively-yet-potentially-explosive mess.
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How are your festivities going? Ours have been a lot of fun, if not a bit, er, demeaning to certain blogging members of the family, ahem.
Yesterday I found myself squatting over a bathtub at my mom's place, wearing only a shirt and underwear, in front of my entire family, who were relentlessly laughing at me. If I had known that my undies would have been subject to public viewing, I would have chosen a different pair that morning. This one had a large maneki neko emblazoned on the crotch, with Chinese take-out font proclaiming the reader just might "GET LUCKY."
Of course it's totally ironic and it was on sale at Torrid years ago for two bucks, but that didn't matter as I heard one, two, three snapshots taken as I scrubbed foamy poop remnants off of an increasingly distressed and repentant Maggie. Why she chose that day to roll around in cat shit, I will never know. But now we all have this Christmas memory that will never fade, thanks to Tim's digital camera. Of course I'm not going to post one of his pics, but here is a pic of the underwear floating in whitespace:
Go ahead and rinse out your eyes. I'll wait.
Besides mortification, we served up ham, kimchi fried rice, mashed potatoes and turnips, green bean casserole, corn casserole, and crudite with bagna cauda for Christmas Eve dinner. My sister and I tormented and squabbled with each other while cooking, which made my mom laugh. Oscar and Maggie loved getting to visit Halmuni and Harabuji's house, lapping up morsels that dropped to the floor accidentally or not-so-accidentally. A lovely, simple Christmas.
I wish you and your loved ones a wonderful holiday weekend!
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Tim was out of town almost all of last week for business, which is usually not a big deal. However, around 4 am early Friday morning, I awoke to the sound of our garage door being manually opened or closed. Our garage door is made of some kind of flimsy pseudo-metal that even Isaac, a 60-pound 7-year-old, can just lift up with his hands. I assumed whoever was doing this wanted to take stuff, but honestly, there is nothing in there except some of our Christmas decorations, a ping pong table, our bikes, a bunch of crickets, and our chicken supplies.
I debated on whether or not to bother the police, but since the sound was so unmistakable, absolutely no good reason for anyone to mess with our garage at this hour, and I was alone with the kids, I did end up calling. The dispatch lady stayed on the phone with me for the two minutes it took the 6 cop cars to pull up. I must live in a good neighborhood for the police to not be busy at that hour, no? They poked around and checked out the garage and found no sign of anyone. Whoever it was didn't even take our new bikes! I almost felt offended! What, our stuff wasn't good enough to steal?
My best guess is that this wasn't the work of a professional thief, but rather some punk kid spotting the Mercedes in the driveway and thinking there might be some cool stuff in the garage. But unfortunately for him/her, we do not keep our gold bars and extra iPads back there, and our bikes probably aren't as nice as the one they came on, heh.
Nothing happened except for Long Beach's finest boys in blue getting a peek of my nightgown, but because of this incident I've decided to up the security around here. We'll be installing a motion-sensor flood light back there as well as a latch for the garage door. In the meantime, a jumper cable clamp looped through where a latch would normally go does a good-enough job, and hopefully that punk kid stays out of trouble from now on and I can resume sleeping well soon.
PS: The next day was the chickens' hatchday! They turned 1. Where has the time gone?
Rosie and Cheep Cheep at about 3 weeks old
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We got off easy for the first half of the month; the June Gloom's morning clouds took the edge off the afternoons. It even drizzled a few times, which the plants and I loved. However, along with the start of summer camps, the heat has come, and even though the temps are only in the low 80's, I already feel uncomfortable.
I've never enjoyed the heat, but my intolerance shot up like crazy after I was pregnant with Isaac. I thought maybe that summer was especially harsh because of my condition, but it, along with my incessantly cracking knees and hips, never went away.
I hate showing physical weakness and simultaneously tend to wallow in my sorrows, so I get a bit depressed during the summers. Combine that with having to muck with a new, blank hard drive, trying to get used to the kids' summer schedules, having to dream up lunches that Emi would actually eat, Tim up in the Bay Area training for a new job, and the chickens waking up at 5:40 every morning, and we have a rollickin' pity party of one over here. I've learned to cope a bit by surrounding myself with creature comforts. Here are a few:
Korean people have a fetish for exfoliation. Ask any of us to take you to the Korean spa one day to get scraped; it is pure masochism, but the pain feels appropriate while in the company of sweaty, naked ajummas. At home, I scrub my upper arms to rawness to get rid of the chicken skin, then rub glycolic acid lotion into the wounds...in about a week the bumps disappear and I call that my bikini body. This stuff is nice and smells like a spa; you can get it at Target.
I've been toying with a variety of brownie recipes in order to post my ultimate Kimchi Mama Brownie. I've seriously been making batches for a year now, and none of them are right. Again, I fall into mucho despairing, but then I just pop open a box of this shit right here and all is well with the world again. Why mess with perfection? Add 1 tablespoon of gochugaru (chili powder) and you've got it.
Yeah yeah, water is healthier and beer is more fun, but this stuff is the bomb. Green tea made with purified water; no lemon or sugar or honey or ginseng or any other crap; ice-cold elixir of life. I actually just downed a whole bottle in order to get inspired to write this blog post!
It's ollalieberry pie season at Polly's right now!!! Apparently ollalieberries are a cross between loganberries and youngberries, which themselves are crosses of other berries. Basically, they are a firm blackberry with raspberry flavors mixed in. They are amazing. Once when I was younger (and by younger I mean in my early 20's), I kept an ollalieberry in my mouth, not wanting chew it and thus end my ollalieberry experience for that day. It lasted a few hours, then I accidentally swallowed it whole while being distracted by the book I was reading. I almost cried.
Wow, that really sounded pathetic!
Last but not least, this baby is my anniversary gift from Tim. Even when the sun beats down on the ugly extra large men's helmet I have to wear because of my gargantuan noggin, it feels good to feel the breeze against my face.
How are you guys keeping cool out there?
PS: I didn't want to write this initially, but it must be said: the singular WORST thing about being hot has got to be the between-the-boobs sweat. Can I get an amen up in here? Sometimes Maggie will cram her nose into my cleavage, take multiple whiffs, and look at me in disgust. This kind of judgement from a creature who once befriended a dead squirrel wounds me.
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This week is going to be a big one for our household.
First, tomorrow is FLAG DAY!!!! Just kidding, we don't own a flag. But all week, we are dogsitting the most adorablest pooch ever, Bella the Havanese fluffball. Just look at this wittle face! Every time I see her I just scoop her up and smooch her. Lucky for me, she's the ultimate toy dog and just takes it without complaint. She's like a living, breathing stuffed animal, and the seven-year-old girl inside me can't stop squealing.
Wednesday is Tim's birthday. It's a big one, too! He will officially cross the threshold from mid-30s to late-30s, and we all know what that means...the days of pleated pants, bifocals, sandals with socks, $1 coffee at McDonald's, and grey pubes are approaching. Don't worry babe, I'll make sure to hire a hot nurse to give you sponge baths while the kids and I frolic with Cabo lifeguards.
Thursday will be Isaac's last day of first grade, ending with their last class kickball game. Just typing those words out brings a tear to my eye. He had such a great year, I am so proud of all that he's learned, and I wish he could stay this goofy and innocent forever. Actually, scratch that...I don't think I can tolerate many more years of the incessant poop jokes. What is up with little boys and bodily functions? Expand thy repertoire, ye sweet and tender hooligans!
Friday will be Emi's last day at her current preschool, the one that took her in after she was kicked out of daycare. She has developed so much since then I can hardly believe it! They are throwing a farewell picnic that evening because I think a lot of kids are transitioning to kindergarten and the like, so that will be a great way to hang out one last time. Starting next week, she will attend the Pre-K program at our local Jewish Community Center. They have a great reputation for top-notch early learning, so I am excited to see Emi being challenged in new ways.
Then, Saturday is the day of Emi's very first dance recital! Which means Friday night will be spent rolling her hair up in rags again because for some reason, Emi's hair straightens under the influence of a curling iron!!! (I think the 1.25" barrel I have is too wide for her hair.) Break a leg, little one!
Then of course Sunday is Father's Day. I intend to cook prime rib. Wish me luck, and let me know if your plans!
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Usually when Tim asks me how my day went, I say "Fine." And if he asks what I did, I say "Oh, nothing." But I decided to log my day on Thursday, just to see what "Nothing" looks like:
7:30 am: Yikes, the kids and I woke up 30 minutes late! Tim had already left for work. Needless to say, there was a slight rush to get them fed and ready for school.
7:45 am: While feeding the chickens, I discovered a dead squirrel in the backyard. After showing the kids and shooing Maggie away from the carcass, I decided to leave it there until the kids were in school.
7:56 am: Dropped Isaac off at school, then headed to Emi's preschool and drop her off.
8:29 am: Drove home and tried to work out squirrel strategy. Tried knocking on a couple neighbors' doors for advice, but no one was home. Then it dawned on me that I had completely forgotten Emi's yearly doctor's exam which was supposed to be at 8:30, so I called to reschedule for 10:30.
8:30 am: Wearing two pairs of gardening gloves, I scooped the squirrel up with a shovel and wrapped him in 3 trashbags and put him in the trash. Mentally noted that squirrels, at least dead ones, were heavier than I would have guessed. I also threw in a few sheets of lemon-scented antibacterial wipes to hopefully deal with the smell (garbage truck doesn't come until Tuesday).
8:35 am: Finished 3 hours' worth of work in 1.5 hours, then shower while brushing teeth to get ready for Emi's doctor appointment.
10:15 am: Picked up Emi, waited 5 adorable minutes for every single kid in the preschool to hug her and wish her well on her appointment, headed to Kaiser
12:00 pm: Turned out that the cold she's been fighting was actually an ear infection, so no vaccinations today. Instead we have 10 days of antibiotics to look forward to, then shots in 2 weeks. I dropped her off at preschool again, and dropped off her prescription.
12:15 pm: Gobbled down some pho (my preferred mix, rare steak, brisket, and tendon) while writing work emails, picked up prescription.
12:30 pm: Home; 30 min. of work.
1:00 pm: Picked up Isaac from school.
1:10 pm: Performed last-minute packing for the boys' trip to Missouri; more work.
2:00 pm: Headed off to the airport.
2:45 pm: On the way home, made plans and reservations, arranged babysitting for the next couple weeks.
3:15 pm: Did some major fire-fighting for work. Feverish typing.
4:00 pm: Went early to Emi's school for their annual art show. Stuffed $20 into a shoebox for some gorgeous watercolors Emi made. Ate 2 Fig Newtons.
5:30 pm: Girl's Dinner Out with Emi at Ruby's. Introduced her to the wonder of the chocolate banana milkshake.
7:00 pm: Played with fairy and unicorn dolls until bath/teeth/PJ/storytime. Read a chapter of "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" per request by Emi. Then, silence. Ah, silence!
8:30 pm: Worked for another few hours in bed, caught up on Facebook, played a few rounds of Words with Friends.
10:00 pm: Heard from Tim that they made it to their hotel okay. And I thought I had a long day!
12:00 am: Oh, blissful unconsciousness.
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