Honey

A few nights ago M and I were watching Iron Chef.

I have loved this show ever since I first was introduced to it in Japan, totally drawn to not only its overly dramatic host and but also his rabid destruction of red peppers at the start of each show.

And who could resist the simpering, giggling actresses whos only contribution to the meal critique was to perkily chirp “It’s delicious! So tasty!” repeatedly.

The American version managed to retain a little of the silliness (see Alton Brown) and takes itself rather seriously. I really enjoy the serious and descriptive critiques of each dish.

The other night we were watching Iron Chef: Super Chef Battle and the theme ingredient was vegetables from the White House garden.

The chefs all met at the White House, were greeted by Michelle Obama and then directed to the garden.

Now that is one hell of a garden. Every single vegetable was basically a textbook example of what that particular veggie should look like. Everything was so green and leafy and lush. It was pretty much the exact opposite of my weed-ridden little garden in our courtyard.

I am sure they have very  clever people looking after that garden. I am actually sure that there is a whole army of people who tend to that garden. I wish they could send a few people down my way and rejuvenate my little piece of dirt.

I had heard about the garden, but I hadn’t heard about the bees.

Did you know that they keep bees at the White House? There is an official White House BeeKeeper. And they harvest the honey and use it in food in the WH kitchen.

And after finding that out, I haven’t been able to stop googling Bee Keeping. and reading about it. For about 5 minutes last night, I was seriously thinking about where I could put a bee hive in my courtyard.

I thought about it pretty hard and then came to the conclusion that probably, especially with V, it would not be the best of ideas. Maybe just the reality of a huge colony in my small courtyard sunk in.

Maybe if I could have a teeny tiny colony? With just enough bees to produce enough honey for my tea.

Mmmmmm, that would be nice.

And just in case you also would like to have your own colony, here is a lovely informative site that will take you through all of the necessary steps.

xoxo a.m.

Pause

So my parents are arriving in T-minus 28 days or so. And so I have 4 weeks to turn our office into a cosy room . I have been up on a ladder drinking wine like a mother f’er for a week, while I paint that damn room and its damn closet.

Since last Tuesday that has been my evenings plan. And M was working all of those nights, so I embraced it as busy time for Mummy.

Ladders and wine every evening ended up with late nights, every night this past week.

And Thursday and Friday as well.

M, working at that Disney restaurant he moonlights at, and after coming home at 3 am 3 nights in a row, finally got a break Friday night and called me around 11 pm. He was on his way home. Holy crap!

Filet mignon with pepper crust and gorgonzola dressing is what awaited him. As well as me, up a ladder in the closet. With a glass of wine.

Shortly after he arrived and got settled with dinner and a well deserved beer, V woke.

And it was a scary awakening. Screaming and thumping rained down on our living room ceiling. So much so that I actually went up and cuddled  that little man. And then brought him downstairs. And then regretted it when he perked up as soon as my foot him that last step on the stairs.

Big smile for Daddy and an immediate “Issat!” with a big pointy finger at the TV where Top Chef Season 5 was playing.

That  Little Man was a midnight blur of activity. He ran around the living room, dragging his little chair up to the coffee table and plunking his tush down.

“Mumma! Baba!!”, he demanded.

Yes sir. Into the kitchen I went to get him a bottle of milk and a little midnight snack of Cheerios.

He sat so nicely in his chair when he snacked down. About 2 minutes into midnight snack, he picked up his bottle and snack dish and walked over to Daddy.

“Dadda!’, he shouted imperiously.

M obligingly lifted him up onto his lap where he sat for about 20 minutes, snacking and watching Top Chef.

Mama! Da!”, he shouted again, pointing at his book with the duck on the front cover. M transferred him over to me, and we read about the duck and how it was looking for its mother.

It was such a random late night. We were so amused by the Little Man. And then after his story, I carried him up to bed and he went right to sleep.

While this may (mostly may not) be exciting to you… and by ‘you’ I mean my Mum. Thank you Mum for reading this regularly… for us, it was just the sweetest late night treat.

For M and his week of really late nights, it was a lovely V-treat.

For me, it was a deep sigh of contentment. I watched the two of them together and felt my heart just melt with love.  It feels like these days are moving so quickly that any little moment like this is a little pause and sigh.

So my friends…. pause and sigh at those sweet moments.

And speaking of sweet moments, I must admit that I am fascinated by the fact that the White House has a beekeeper. And beehives. And harvests its own honey, which they use in the White House kitchen.

Totally so admirable and so wish I could have one too. But I have this feeling that my neighbours (in their much smaller townhouse) would totally be pissed at the constant buzzing noises and non-stop dog-barking that would result from the constant buzzing.

So for now, I’ll just admire those WH clever-clogs. And check out this link to check out those sweet honey makers…

xoxo a.m.