FotC-inspired recipe: Lasagna for one

Ugh, Kat. Sending much ~ma that you'll find a good solution soon.

Growing up rural, I really knew my neighbors, because most of them were my aunts and uncles. My grandfather had a small farm, and as his children grew up he gave them each an acre to build a house on and sold them other land at a low price if they were so inclined. Decades later, it's a good thing as that generation is aging and developing health problems, because they're so close together and able to visit and help each other out. My cousins, brothers, and I, however, are scattered to the four winds, so we'll have to come up with our own support networks.

In our new place (we just moved there in April) we know the guys who rent the other half of our duplex. They courteously give us notice when they're planning a party, I knock on their door whenever Annabel's toys land on their side of the fence, etc. But we don't know anyone else on our block. I'd like to be more social, but it's tough when you're an introvert married to an introvert, working full time, raising a 3-year-old, writing and taking part in writers' organizations, and singing in a choir. I'd just as soon hole up in my cave whenever I have free time, y'know?

Oh, btw, ita, there's not a lot of swimming involved in krav maga, is there? 'Cause there was, rather unexpectedly, in my krav dream last night which included you, B (eta: who, incidentally, had really great shoulders in my dream, despite my having never seen any of you in the flesh), paperdol and some random people from my past.

Evidently it's been weighing heavily on my mind. Watching the human weapon series on history channel has made me really aware that I want to train in some defensive art. But evidently I've been worried about if I'm sufficiently qualified to try to learn, 'cause unexpected swimming requirement cropping up in my dreams!

Good luck to you, Kat--I really hope that a solution presents itself ASAP.

Happy birthday, erika!!

Yes, escalators (well, down escalators, at least) are instruments of death to be feared. That's something my myopic toddler-self knew and refused to use the things as a result (my parents would either have to carry me, or find some stairs or an elevator, because I wouldn't get on the damn thing going down). My heart still speeds up when I have to get on one I've never used before, and my hand is practically glued to the handrail. If I'm more used to it, it's not such an effort, but I'm still very careful about where I step on it. The escalators at the San Diego ballpark are freakily steep and scared the crap out of me when we had to use them after the game.

All this talk about chatting with strangers was yesterday's Question of the Day at a blog I read--how funny it's here, too! I mentioned there about the cool conversation I had with a stereotypical New Yawk cabbie at Christmastime 1999; my family members were crammed in the back seat, so I had to take the front, and there he was, the lifelong 50ish cabbie, complete with New Yawk accent and attitude, just begging to be chatted with and find out about his life. He was a really interesting guy, and well worth learning about.

Holy moly, ita! I forgot to tell you!

There is a Krav Center in Idaho Falls. We saw it this weekend when we were there for the Mormon-Clampett wedding. I about fell over.

Thanks for all of the thoughts. We really need tide us over care until October 23 and then a longer longer term solution come January.

there's not a lot of swimming involved in krav maga, is there? 'Cause there was, rather unexpectedly, in my krav dream last night which included you, B (eta: who, incidentally, had really great shoulders in my dream

I hate swimming. It is of the devil. Sometimes we go after kettlebell on Thursdays. B has really great shoulders.

I'd have to call it a very spot on dream.

There's a black people thing, at least there's the nod of acknowledgement, but I don't know precisely how it works here. All of the black guys that work here introduced themselves to me shortly upon seeing me--but there are no black women.

A truly weird thing I've noticed is that black women with short unstraightened hair kinda look at me funny. One of the times my sister was here she was expecting to do the kindred-head-nod thing and couldn't work out why a complete stranger was looking at me like that.

I don't know either.

Unless her hair is blonde! Then we're kindred again and smile at each other.

So very complex.

eta:

There is a Krav Center in Idaho Falls.

Ha! I'll have to find out if it's one of ours.

There's a black people thing,

I really thought that was going to still be about swimming. Why is my head packed so full of ethnic stereotypes?!?

Much child-care-ma for Kat.

paperdol, I think it's a great subject for a book. I didn't start trying to talk to my neighbors until I became a SaHM and realized I knew nothing about my street or the people on it.

It took years before I became friendly with my next door lady and I realized that she has had a fascinating life and is really interesting. (Her parents were concentration camp survivors who met in Italy after the war, she was born in Rome, raised in Israel and married a South African before moving here to go to grad school, and she teaches Hebrew language and history at OSU).

It took a few years for me to learn my cop neighbor's last name.

And I made friends with the lady across the street because she has a teenage daughter and I needed a dog/baby sitter.

the "kh" is that sound that doesn't exist in English, that's sometimes written as "h" and sometimes as "ch".

Nilly, this sound is SO HARD for me. And embarrassing because my neighbor's daughter is named Chen-Li and I sound like a doofus when I call her "Hen-Li"

Kat, I really hope you can sort your childcare out. It sucks and I wish you could stay home, too.

Kat--I hope a solution is in sight very soon. This must be horribly difficult for you.