I tried delicata squash for the first time tonight. It was so good, plus it doesn’t need to be peeled! Roasted with olive oil, salt, garlic, red onion and served over rice. It was perfect on its own, but I whisked a little yellow curry paste with coconut milk, tossed it in and OMG YUM. #csa
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These crazy jeans. They were my first skinny pair (I’m a late adopter). I only bought them because they were super cheap and looked good on. I didn’t mind the distressed look, and I knew having cute, tiny holes near the knees was a bad idea.
I should have reinforced them right away. I should have reinforced them when I added darts when I lost a few pounds (and the holes had gotten bigger). But I didn’t, and now I have these jeans that still fit well with two huge holes in them. You all know how hard it is to find a good fitting pair of jeans, so you’ll understand why I pulled out my sewing machine today.
The holes weren’t really that difficult to fix, or too time consuming. I wish I hadn’t waited so long. Here is an easy how-to so you don’t have to hear over and over from your child, “Mom, when are you going to mend those holes?”
Using your trusty seam ripper, open up the non-topsitched seam a few inches above and below the hole. You’ll need it big enough to fit over the arm of your sewing machine. While you’re cleaning up all those ripped thread bits, go ahead and trim the threads around the hole, too.
Rummage through your stash of fabric scraps for something cute. Keep switching out options until you find something you like. I really loved the red flowers, but went for something more subtle in the end. Also, my fabric was thin, so I doubled it up to make it a little more sturdy.
Pin your fabric under the hole and start stitching to tack it down. I did a few rows back and forth all around because it’s the knee and will be under extra stress.
Turn the leg inside out and close up the hole in the side seam. Turn it right side out and try on your fancy fixed jeans!
If you have a serger, use it to overlock your inside seam so it doesn’t fray and drive you nuts. You could zig zag over the edges with your sewing machine if you don’t have a serger.
Saturday morning I had a date with my daughter. After Tae Kwon Do class, we drove up to the Community CROPS plant sale. We had our list: tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, and cucumbers. What we left with was something else entirely.
Three kinds of tomato plants — beefsteak, german yellow striped, and grape — and two kinds of cucumber — regular and pickling. She was so excited to find cucumber plants specifically for pickling. It’s the only way she really eats them.
We decided to have some fun, to be a little bit daring, and also came home with broccoli, brussel sprouts, zucchini, watermelon, kale, red bell pepper and strawberries. We really have no idea what we’re doing, but it all sounded like a good idea at the time.
Sunday afternoon, my husband spent time in the garage unearthing one of my favorite things that has been buried under stuff for over a decade: my potting bench. I’ve got bags of soil and lots of containers, and I can’t wait to get my hands dirty. Oh, and the flowers were a Mother’s Day gift from the two of them. It’s been a great weekend.
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It has been the bane of my existence since early December. We tried pulling it for Tae Kwon Do testing because it hurt while sparring, but it wasn’t ready. At the dentist later that month it had no root in the X-ray. It would come out “any day” the dentist said.
We made it through many months with minor whining. Just a little pain here and there. Then things got weird. The gum was red and swollen. The tooth looked super crooked. I took her to the dentist again. He assured me the permanent tooth was healthy. He offered to pull it. She freaked. He told me it would come out “any day.”
Weeks later this little tooth was wreaking havoc. The whining. The pain. The refusal to eat. The refusal (again) to spar at TKD. Tears every night when it was time to brush teeth. And the absolute refusal to let me pull it.
Here’s the thing: I’ve pulled quite a few of her teeth, and it has been no big deal. I don’t know why this one was different. “I don’t want the Tooth Fairy to take it.” I told her that was fine. We’d write a note. “It’s going to hurt.” Not as bad as it does right now.
Then the unthinkable happened: it turned blue. I googled and told her I thought it was dead. “How can it be dead? The dentist said it had no root. I don’t want a blue tooth. No. YOU CANNOT PULL IT.”
Two hours of tears today. She barely had any food. She was a mess. She even stayed home from Girl Scouts. (That never happens.) I knew this was it. It had to go. She cuddled with her dad and stuffed dog. I promised just to test it. I couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t come out. I made that clear. And it did. Effortlessly. YOU WERE JUST GOING TO TEST IT! She ran to the mirror and screamed.
I was so relieved. I didn’t feel bad at all. I waited five months for permission. I did not pull it. It was out. Things were almost immediately better. No more pain. She finished dinner. She had the ice cream I promised. (She should have taken the earlier offers: LEGOs, $100, staying up until 11pm.)
This tooth. It was disgusting. It wasn’t blue. It had stuff in it. Stuff we won’t discuss. Stuff that moms who don’t freak out about respecting their kid’s consent would never see because they would have pulled it long ago.
It is out. The Tooth Fairy is off the hook. In fact, as I write this, she’s enjoying a rather large glass of rosé. Good for her. She earned it.
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The Girl Scout snack badge says to pick a savory or sweet snack from another country and make it for your friends. She picked Germany, and was disappointed that her butter cookies weren’t very sweet. We are debating whether to add icing.
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I’ve been spending a lot of time on Instagram lately. Not everything over there will get posted on the blog, but I would like to re-energize things here a little bit. If you’d like to see all of my photos, you can follow along at instagram.com/jkundhi.
They had a late flight. She got to stay up way past her bedtime. One of the coolest things ever for an eight year old. Also, we are still loving this blanket.
Last year I bought my daughter size medium pajamas from Target. Within a year they were above her ankles. I knew size large would be too big because I measured them in the store. (Yes, that weirdo with the tape measure in the clothing department is me.) However, I don’t have time to make all of her pajamas by hand, so I bought them and hoped for the best.
First problem: the waist kept falling down. I had to run some elastic around to keep them up. Second problem: she was tripping over them. I wound up hemming THREE INCHES. How can the difference between medium and large be that great? They are polyester, so I know last year’s didn’t shrink.
I’m thinking making them by hand might have been easier after all.