Our first meeting.

And a week and a half later.

I never knew our family had the ability to tire out a big, energetic dog.

But apparently we do.

And I had no idea a dog, especially one with her very sad background, could jump into our family and hearts so quickly, but she has.

According to Sam, “She’s the best thing in the whole world,” and he “Quadruple loves her.”

Robby “weawy, waewy yubs her.”

My husband and I love her too.

And so, Kiki becomes part of the family - two parents, two boys, two cats, one big dog.

And just like that, he belongs to someone else for most of his day.

I know. I was supposed to talk about tomatoes. Like 2 weeks ago. And the thing is, we’ve been eating a ton of tomatoes. Seriously. And there have been several meals that I would have deemed “post-worthy.” But again, the thing is, it’s summer. And August is nuts over here.

We’ve got two birthdays in our family in August - Robby turned three and Hubby turned . . . my age. We went to the shore for a week. I even took my tomatoes from our garden and the peaches from our CSA with us. We ate peaches every morning. We sliced tomatoes on everything. Oh, and then there was my wonderful and amazing Mom does LA on her own weekend. And that was great and everyone survived without me just fine. Clearly I’m totally dispensable. I expect to be let go any day now.

Plus we are on the brink of adding to our family. Let me be more clear lest you misunderstand. We are on the brink of adding a four-legged addition to our family. More on that later, I’m sure. But it’s not for a tomato post.

No, for my tomato post, I think part of my severe procrastination has been due to some minor gardening insecurity I’m feeling. I’ve lost a lot of tomatoes this summer. Several Brandywines had blossom end rot. I tried to rectify that, and I think I did. But now I have a chipmunk problem. And the little bastards are getting them just as they start to ripen. They break a hole in my lovely fruits and suck the freaking life out of them, and they’re driving me nuts. Get it? Chipmunks…nuts…ok.

We’ve had a lot of tomatoes that made it, don’t get me wrong, but it hasn’t been tons, so I’m feeling rather down. I have a zucchini plant with a powdery mildew problem. Chipmunks are leaving little poop gifts for me in the remnants of my heirloom tomatoes. My pepper plants are falling over and need to be restaked. It’s kind of a mess, a big garden mess.

And yet, for dinner last night we had a meal that consisted almost entirely of food from our yard, so I’ll try and focus on that. A dozen roasted peppers of various colors, a few lovely Brandywines rescued before being snatched away by the vermin, about a pint of mixed cherry tomato varieties, basil from one of several plants that are doing well, and the garlic I planted last fall that has officially been harvested and cured - all of these mixed with some chopped olives and olive oil and baked in a 400 degree oven for about 20 minutes.

I served the concoction with some pizza dough I made from Daisy Mill flours and baked on its own to make a crispy flatbread type of thing, and then topped that with a little crumbled goat cheese. And it was yum. And I grew most of it. So I’ll just keep telling myself that as I clip away at the squash leaves and turn over what I expect to be a beautiful tomato on the vine only to find out the other side is completely demolished.

They’re such little bastards.

Got tomatoes? Where from? And what are you doing with them?

I kind of feel like this sums up my summer fairly well:

Report: Mom Just Locked Her Door

Tomorrow I join the throngs of female bloggers leaving their kids for the weekend. Only I am heading in the opposite direction from Blogher, as far away as I can get, really, as I am going to LA for a great and old friend’s wedding.

Alone.

This will be my first time away on my own since becoming a mom.

I am freaking out.

Just a little.

Yeah, other than when I was in the hospital having Robby, and Sam stayed with my parents, this is the only overnight I’ve ever had. And really, birthing the second hardly counts, right? Other than that, the longest time I have ever been away was back when I went to Blogher DC for the day, and we all remember how that turned out. And that was only a day.

This time around I am going out with a real bang. I’ll be away for not one, but TWO nights. About 55 hours. Holy schmoley.

Of course I’m excited. I mean, the 6 hour flight alone sounds almost heavenly. When was the last time I was able to sit for that long and read, only to be interrupted by someone offering me snacks and drinks? How many times have I been on a plane with my two, trying desperately to entertain them before we’ve even left the ground, looking across the aisle at the person who is able to sit and peacefully leaf through a magazine or listen to earphones, and wish it could be me? It sounds amazing.

And that’s all before I even reach sunny California, where there is a high of 75 and no clouds this weekend. It’s before I get to my cushy room in the hotel where the reception is being held, because, oh yes, you can bet I decided to swing for the swanky hotel on the bay for my first weekend away. You can bet I will have a king sized bed. All. To. My. Self.

I will order room service at least once.

I will leave the Do Not Disturb sign on the door indefinitely.

I will sit in quiet and watch my friend get married.

I will drink, knowing I can just stumble walk upstairs when I am done.

I will dancedancedance.

I will sleep late and manage to take up all of that king bed.

I will think to myself, “Oh, this room is so quiet.”

But all that doesn’t change the fact that I have felt a growing apprehension for the past few weeks. In the back of my mind, I have just felt something is a bit amiss; something a little scary has been lurking. And I know it’s all crazy talk. I know that.

But I also know that at many points through the weekend I’ll be afraid one of the children will be hurt, or sick, and I’ll be on the other side of the country, unable to get to them.

Or something will happen to me.

Or they’ll wake up in the night and be upset that I am not there.

Or someone will call for Mommy, and I won’t be there.

Or that, at some point, I’ll sit in that room and think, “Oh, this room is so quiet . . .”

Well, I guess I’ll go start packing . . .

How many books do you think I can devour with 12 hours of flying time and a quiet room for a weekend?

Gosh, we’ve been eating an awful lot of squash and zucchini for the past few weeks, both from our own garden and from the CSA box. I have one summer squash plant in the yard, and so far it has produced over 15 fruits. The thing is taking over the yard. When you read about how big those plants get, believe it; it’s really quite remarkable and very fun, I think.

So we’ve had squash to spare, and I’ve even managed to shred and freeze some for future winter baking. But most gets used immediately. It’s such a versatile veggie that I’m still not sick of it . . . not yet.

Some squash quesadillas I made were surprisingly good and easy. I just sliced and sauteed some summer squash with onions, corn and peppers, until all were a bit softened. I then used that as filling for quesadillas with some shredded farm market cheese. Topped those with a fresh salsa made from tomatoes from the garden, some red onion, lime juice, and salt. I can’t remember if I put anything else in the salsa.

I guess quesadillas are just kind of a fly by the seat of your pants meal that way - work with what you have, fill each according to the preference of the person/child you are feeding - it’s hard to go wrong and so easy to do with local ingredients.

Zucchini and summer squash are also great for grilling after marinating in some garlic and olive oil. And my boys are somewhat obsessed with Zucchini Bread right now (I alter this recipe a bit with some whole wheat flour. These almost scone-like zucchini chocolate chip cookies are also quite popular around these parts. . . “these parts” being my house.

Got Squash? Whatcha doing with it?

Cabbage. I’ve never done anything with it other than make various slaws. I’ve certainly never cooked it, and I don’t know that I plan to; it just doesn’t sound that appetizing to me. Please, someone tell me I’m wrong. Believe me, if anyone links up below with a cabbage recipe for anything other than a slaw of some sort, I promise I’ll try it.

But until then: slaw. The one I usually make is super easy, and I make it often because I get a lot of cabbages from our CSA. I quarter and core a head of cabbage, then I chop it up. I know many people use a food processor to shred it. I don’t bother. So mine is always a bit chunkier than the finely shredded stuff, but I kind of like that. It makes it more salad-ey.

I throw the chopped up cabbage in a big ol’ bowl and toss it with a pinch or two of salt and several tablespoons of cider vinegar. My recipe says 3 tablespoons, but I know I use more than that. I like vinegar.

Then, if I have them, I grate a few carrots into the bowl. I add some mayo, about 2/3 cup depending on how creamy I want it, how big the head of cabbage was, etc. Toss it all together and that’s it. Done.

I’d take a picture, but then I’d be going into my kitchen and taking a photo of 4-day-old cole slaw, which just seems wrong.

Thoughts on cabbage? Do share: