I don’t have many pictures from last week, which for me is a sign of how much routine took over during the most part of the week. Toddler was especially challenging, but luckily whatever was causing all the meltdowns (fatigue? something hurting? growth spurt? a slight fever? emotions related to the state of being a toddler? sometimes it’s a wild, wild guess) subsided by the end of the week.
One of the week’s highlights was going to France to visit some friends whose backyard is the picture above. Can you imagine that? With 20cm of fluffy snow that had fallen during the weekend, there was nothing to do except for… playing in the snow! Sledding was fun, but soft snow is not the best condition for sledding. You have to pack the snow on the first runs down and when you get to the end of the slope, you invariably crash into a mound of fresh, fluffy snow. Needless to say, it was an emotional rollercoaster for Toddler, who laughed during the descent, but cried when receiving all that snow in her face!
At our friend’s house we ate raclette, and the cheese was just delicious, very unctuous, not excessively fat and not at all rubbery. I have been thinking about it ever since and my mouth waters each time it pops in my mind.
This week I also managed to get back to some books. I finished reading Os Vampiros, by Filipe Melo and Juan Cavia. I have also been making progress on Olive Kitteridge, which I’m enjoying more and more.
While I’m cooking, I like to watch series and movies that I don’t need my full attention, but this week I watched Little Women and The Lost Daughter and both of them grabbed more of my attention than what is usual. Luckily, I was peeling and chopping a lot of vegetables to make lentil and vegetable ragout for lasagne and to freeze. I also made lentil and barley hamburgers from this book. This is a lot of lentils, I know, but we are big fans of pulses and beans around here, so nobody was complaining.
On the subject of the Lost Daughter, I stumbled on this little piece about mother rage, which is an interesting subject to think about. And the first one that really comes into my mind is: why mother rage and not parent rage? Anyway, this can be a long discussion, and my toddler leaves me with more fatigue than rage, so I’m just going to chew on that for a little while more.