The long and the short of it.

I realize that some people may read this post and wonder if I am being serious. I am.

A little back story if you will: my parents are Italian. As in, born and (mostly) raised in Italy. I was born and raised in Canada but with a very pronounced Italian heritage. My husband is decidedly neither, having immigrated to Canada 11 years ago. Now, whether this situation is more culturally- or foodie-based, I'm not sure, but I'm willing to bet it's at least a bit of both.

We had about 5 or 6 ripe tomatoes coming off our vines a couple days ago and I decided to make pasta with fresh, cut tomatoes that had been lightly sauteed in some olive oil with garlic, salt and basil. I put the pot of water on to boil and went to through the pantry to search for the pasta I wanted. So I searched, and searched, and finally had to accept that I had NO long pasta. None! There was rigatoni, penne lisce, penne rigate and even pennine, but no angel hair, or spaghettini, spaghetti or even linguine!! How had this come to pass?? Where did I go wrong in life to bring me to this point?

My husband doesn't understand this part of me that needs to match the sauce to the pasta. *Yes*, it does make a difference to the taste. He did not agree that it would be prudent to run to the store to get a long pasta, when we have at least 3kg of pasta already in the pantry. He doesn't understand that those should be reserved for thick and chunky sauces, not thin ones!! Oh, the humanity!

It was with sadness and not a little bit of disgust that I dumped 450g of rigatoni (no.20) into the pot. (Later I noticed that I had fusilli hiding on a different shelf. Even that would have been better!) As I brought the finished dish to the table I wondered if my kids would even eat the slop. They did. So did the Man. So did I. I gagged a little on the first bite, but quickly recovered. It turns out that it wasn't as bad as I thought. However, I stand by my original belief that the sauce must match the pasta! Off to the grocery store!

My recipe for fresh tomato sauce to be used with a long, thin pasta. :-)
2-3 tbsp olive oil
2-3 cloves garlic, minced
3-4 large, fresh, ripe tomatoes
10 leaves fresh basil, hand torn
Pinch of salt

1. Heat olive oil over medium heat for a minute. Add garlic.
2. Meanwhile, over a bowl to catch juices, roughly cut up tomatoes. Pour cut tomatoes and accumulated juice over oil and garlic. Add basil and salt. Stir.
3. Cook for about 5 minutes or until heated through, but tomatoes are still red, not orange. Pour over your favourite cooked, long, pasta and enjoy.

LadyBird At Home? At Work? On The Job? On The Move?

I don't know anymore. When I started this blog it was because I was at home a lot - as a housewife, with the kids, with a home-based business. Sure, it seemed like I was away from it more than I was there, but it was definitely the central hub of my existence. Now, with the kids going back to school (both full time), and with the new work studio I find that I'm only home for hours, sometimes just to sleep. So much so, that I've been seriously considering hiring a cleaning service.
Is there something wrong with this picture?
I still define myself as a mother and wife first, then a business owner. I still plan to sit on the PTA. I still attend book club and now Scrabble club too. I still take the kids on outings, to their friends, to birthdays, to lessons. But am I still "At Home"?
Am I focusing too much on this? Do I need one more thing to obsess over?
If it were anyone else I would say they were just finding the transition from SAHM or WAHM to WOTHM ( is that even a thing?) difficult. But I am not just anyone. I am unique, aren't I? Is there anyone else in this transition phase out there?
*LadyBird At....

WW: Sunday Afternoon Relaxing With The Family

Our most recent excursion out on a side trail of the Bruce Trail: Mono Cliffs.

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Mr. Puss

Yep. That's *Mister* Puss to you. And me. And most especially to the Girl.

A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I made my kids a promise. They'd been asking for a pet since they could talk, but I had always put them off by saying it was not sanitary to have a pet in the same place where food is being prepared for others, and until my cake business was elsewhere, we could have nothing bigger than a sea monkey. The promise: "As soon as I get my own shop, we may get a pet." *sigh*

Good news: I moved into the shop in May.

Slightly less good news: the instant my mixer claimed a new postal code, the kids started in on me. "but you SAID we could!!!"

And so began the half-hearted attempts at looking for a new pet, which we quickly narrowed down to a cat ("Are you sure you guys don't want a goldfish?") for it's independant nature and lack of daily walking needs.  The looking online: "I don't know guys, there's a cat available in Vancouver, but it's about a week's drive from here..." They caught on about a month in, and so off we went to the city pound to see which lucky beast would be adopted.

I was somewhat horrified to note that to adopt an adult cat, it was well over $100. Kittens were the same, but came with a $40 voucher towards spaying or neutering. Not much when you consider that this costs in the $350 range. Hmmmm...this cat business was starting to seem a bit much. Sadly, we couldn't agree on a feline that day, so I suggested we sleep on it for a few days (weeks, months...)

Now, allow me to make a note here. I love cats. I've lived with cats almost my entire childhood and adolescence, right up until I got married, and we couldn't keep a cat in our first little apartment. It's just that, at the time, it seemed like the responsibility of pet ownership was just one more thing I'd have to add to my already overflowing plate.

My sister knew of our search, and of our criteria. The Girl's: that it be cute, fluffy, wonderful and the bestest friend she could ever have. The Boy's: playful and orange. The Man's: looks and barks like a dog. Mine: short hair, litter-trained, indoor, smallish, healthy, cheap. Enter Mr. Puss, the 5ish year old, black short-haired, trained, indoor, neutered, and best of all, free cat. His owner had to find him a new home ASAP because his new flatmate was deathly allergic. Yay for us. No, really. Yay. My sister put us in touch with his last family, and before you could say "Did you clean the litterbox today?" we had ourselves a cat.

The Girl is besotted. It's Mr. Puss this. And Mr. Pussy that. And oh, my sweet little pussy. Oh. My. God.

She wouldn't dream of changing his name and was horrified when we suggested it. Do you know how many diminutive forms of Mr. PUSS are available and how it sounds when a 7-year old little girl is squealing in public about how soft and squishy her little Mr. Puss is?

What can we do? It's been a month now, and we're all rather used to it, but every now and then a stranger will give her strange looks. (Yes, she still talks about him in public.) I know that in a few years she'll probably figure out why we wanted to change his name and I'm not sure it'll be as funny as I think when she does realize it. But in the meantime, I'd like to keep her innocence for as long as possible.

The Girl insisted on riding the cat on the carousel at an amusement park recently.

I'm baaaa-aaack...

Oh, dear blog, where have you been all my life? More to the point: why have I neglected you?

To be blunt I offer this: I have been ridiculously busy. Starting December of last year, I completely redesigned my business website (www.dolcezzacakes.com),  began actively planning to grow my company, attended networking events, signed a lease for a new cake studio location, renovated the space and moved in. Then came wedding seaoson which shows no signs of slowing down. And that's just work! Between the Boy's Nutcracker rehearsals and regular 2x/week ballet classes an hour away, my co-Chair on School Council went back to work full time leaving me with a bulk of work that was just too much at times (not complaining! It is what it is!), plus the standard rounds of family functions, funerals and sliding in a week in Orlando (yeah!), that brings me to my next point:

Not enough time to sit and compose a post at the computer.

However, now that I have the blogger app, this should be much easier. Hopefully! This is my first mobile post and time will tell if it's the last.

Here's a test pic:

Our new cat, Mr. Puss and my latest cake. Not related. :-)

What about you? What'cha been doing? Have you tried the new blogger app?