For my own future reference, this is how I'm making cheatin' kimchi this afternoon:

Big Bowl: In a big bowl, toss sliced cabbage (including the cabbage stem) in a couple tbsp of water (just to wet the leaves). Add a ton of salt and toss some more. Wait a few hours for it to salt-wilt (some people say you are 'cooking' it with salt), checking on it and tossing occasionally.

Little Bowl: Warm water, Korean chili flakes, garlic, ginger, soy sauce, green onions (although I didn't have any today), and white vinegar (that's the cheatin' part).


Mix contents of little bowl into big bowl and toss/stir/moosh together thoroughly. You may want to use gloves. Pack up in sterilised jar(s), leaving about an inch of room. Wait as long as you can before eating. It will ferment in a few days.

Tesco brand pasta sauce (mixed vegetable) tastes like vomit. Literally. Maybe I'm more sensitive to gross flavours because I'm pregnant, but it is grossly sweet, too thick with "modified maize starch," and tastes of preservatives.

I am usually a member of the clean plate club, but I tossed my whole bowl of pasta out.

I think tomorrow afternoon or maybe this evening, I will prep some cabbage with salt and make fresh kimchi. I doubt it will last long enough to ferment. (I don't have any green onions anyway.)

For my own reference, my kimchi soup recipe is:

Fry onion, garlic, ginger, and chili pepper in oil until onions are clear. Add water, shredded carrot, and tomato paste. Boil, then simmer for a bit. Add soy sauce, Shaoxing rice wine, and kimchi. Simmer a bit more. The soup will be a bright fiery red.

Eat it, pausing every so often to blow your nose.

Ever receive something so amazing that you almost feel unworthy? Thank you thank you thank you tigerloo08 for the Kimchi. Dear tigerloo08 had some authentic Kimchi made for me and sent it to me from the US. So much trouble on her part, just so I could experience the goodness of Kimchi. Wow. I have to try to make it myself (although there is a place in Glasgow that carries it -- most trips to Glasgow take nearly all day because the commute alone is at least 4 hours, but I need to visit SeeWoo and stock up on Asian goodies).

Also, it has magical powers.

This pregnancy, while not a hard one, has not been as easy as Bert's. With Bert, the only rough part was 5 weeks of morning sickness in the first trimester, hip pain in the third trimester, grogginess in the first and third trimester, and 4 months of excruciating rib pain from my magical expanding ribcage (which went from a 27 to a 32-33 so quickly, the muscles between my ribs and sternum tore -- yow!!).

This time, I've been sleepy/groggy most of my pregnancy and even though my morning sickness got a lot better after the first trimester (7 weeks of it this time!), I have been feeling ill most afternoons/evenings. I suspect my stomach is in a different place this pregnancy -- like it's getting squished by my uterus. I usually love gigantic breakfasts and have been only able to stomach toast and green tea in the mornings (and sometimes only want toast and tea for dinner).

The kimchi arrived the day before yesterday and I have felt fantastic and much more energetic ever since I had it. I had it plain. I made kimchi soup (probably the tastiest soup I've ever had -- before this, it was a tie between this hot and sour tomato soup from Lithuania (that had black olives and pickles in it) and this Asian hot and sour soup (that was very aromatically seasoned and had tamarind and tomato and orange juice in it) I had at a place called Citrus in San Francisco) and ate several bowls. And there was a tiiiiny bit of the soup leftover this morning, so I made kimchi fried rice with it.

Also, it is just about the best tasting thing ever. Wow. (And I thought chili-stuffed olives were good.)

Bert just ate an entire bowl of spicy carrot soup. It was supposed to be my bowl of soup, but he was begging for it and tugging on my trouserlegs. His eyes were watering a little and his nose was running, but he cried when I tried to take it away. He loved it! I am so proud to have a son who likes spicy food as much as I do.

The only downside to our spicy food love is because we are white, people outside the US deep-south will never give us our food as spicy as we really want it, unless they are secretly placing bets in the back of restaurants. Which they will lose.

And now he is running around the living room like he has super powers and tons of energy!

From: G Kinnard [mailto:grki@oh.rr.com]
Sent: Fri 1/1/2010 3:42 PM
To: Chantel Kinnard
Subject: Fwd: *"stories about how I lost my bloomers- RUMORS!"*



Begin forwarded message:

> From: G Kinnard
> Date: December 30, 2009 3:05:08 PM EST
> To: Chantel Kinnard
> Subject: *"stories about how I lost my bloomers- RUMORS!"*
>
> To whom it may disturb,
> I did not buy a gun. I would never shoot myself. Although I am very sad about my mom's death, I am FAR from despondent. On the contrary, I am elated regarding the impending arrival of my precious grandson! I am to be his primary baby-sitter and I take that responsibility very seriously.
> Tom Bell called me when he was in town a couple/few months ago. One day, this month, I received a succession of over a half dozen calls with blocked caller I.D. Finally, a message was left on my answering machine stating "Aunt Guenn, I want you to stop calling my father." I hadn't been given the option of returning the call(s) so I called Tom out of interest.
> George was never whipped with a belt nor has he ever said he was.
> Guenn
> *in ascription to Oscar Hammerstein*
>
>
>

Note: Aunt #2 is my cousin's mom and ex-wife of creepy abusive uncle. Aunt #1 is my mom's and Aunt #2's older sister. Both aunties are very nice ladies.

I guess Aunt #2 heard or read Peggy's journals about Guenn and I guess she got upset because Guenn was talking SO MUCH smack on her that she phoned two of my dad's sisters (that she met at my parent's wedding all those years ago) to commiserate or something and to tell them that she's not crazy, but she's sorry if Guenn caused them any grief. Or something. I heard it third hand from my Aunt Deb, who seemed very confused about the whole thing. (I said they should be nice to her since her mom just died and my mom is a total bitch who phones her creepy ex-husband all the time.)

I went to talk to Chani on skype today (Bert loves to talk to people on skype) and she was all, "Guenn showed me her caller ID and there were 8 calls from a blocked number and then a message from our cousin saying not to call her dad anymore! I bet Aunt #2 put her up to it." And I am all, "Maybe our cousin phoned Guenn because she is tired of Guenn phoning her creepy abusive father." And then Chani is all, "And Aunt #1 phoned me asking if Guenn was okay since Peggy died two weeks ago and then she got a gun and I am all, Jesus Christ, people, George bought a gun, not Guenn! So I guess aunt #2 told our cousin to phone her and tell her about the gun." Like that makes a difference who bought the gun. I told her maybe Aunt #1 just wanted to make sure Guenn wasn't gonna cap her ass and that I'm certainly going to steer clear of Guenn because I know she would shoot me if she got mad enough. Chani just laughed.
Anyway, I'm sure my mom told Chani to talk to me about that. (Which makes it kind of amusing that Guenn is so convinced it's Aunt #2 orchestrating some big conspiracy, while Guenn is actually the one orchestrating conspiracies and shit.)
Also, Chani kept going on and on about how Guenn totally did not call creepy uncle and I am all, "who cares?! I am lucky enough that neither of them talk to me."

Also, a few months ago, my mom was all, "do you talk to your cousin on-line ever?" and I was, "yeah," and she's all, "that's wonderful. I'm so glad you guys got over that whole red barbie shoe incident that Aunt #1 instigated." and I am all, "what the hell are you talking about?" So she reminded me that, like, 25 years ago, there was some confusion about which of our Barbies owned a hot pair of red high-heels. And I am all, "why the hell would I still be mad about that? It's not like we still play with Barbies. I didn't even remember that." And she is being all dramatic, "oh, you are SO forgiving! of course, it never would have happened if Aunt #1 hadn't tried to drive you two apart -- just like she did with you and Chantel." And I am sitting there on the phone thinking, "Guenn, you are such a crazy motherfucker."

Okay, so my sister told me my dad went out and bought a handgun. A glock. Now, despite having a loaded gun waved in my face by a crazy bloke, I'm not anti-gun. I went shooting once, it was fun, and I'm a good shot. That said, the idea of my mom being in a house with a gun is very disturbing. I wonder who she will shoot first.

Apparently, my dad bought it for protection (from what? they live on a cul-de-sac in suburbia). Maybe he wants to protect himself from my mom. ;p He is taking my sister shooting today.

This is especially weird because my mom is the most anti-gun hardcore republican I've ever met. I grew up being told guns should be banned and that they were evil and if I ever got word I was in a house that had a gun in it, even if it was locked up, to run away.

So, I figured this was a good time to tell my sister that my mom had planned to kill us if my dad died. She said, "that's funny!" Funny?! Yeah, really funny, mom was planning to kill us. Sheesh.

I am never going back to Ohio. I don't think it will be safe unless my mom is dead. No, really. I'm not wishing her dead or anything, I just don't think I'd be very safe visiting knowing my mom has a gun and had at one time planned to kill me.

So, my other grandmother died:
http://obits.cleveland.com/obituaries/cleveland/obituary.aspx?n=margaret-a-behrens&pid=137435899

The executor of my gran's estate read some memoirs and thoughts my gran had written and said she had no idea just how awful it had been for me growing up.

The freakiest thing, though, is that apparently my mom told my grandmother that if anything should happen to my father, that my mother would kill herself AND ME AND MY SISTER! Holy shit! I am really glad nothing happened to my dad when I was a kid! I knew my mom was crazy and she always said she'd kill herself (and Twinki our dog) if anything happened to my dad, but I had no idea I was going to have to drink the kool-aid, too. My mom is easily on enough prescription drugs to kill off 3 people and a dog. It's weird -- and scary -- to think she was plotting to murder me, even under the highly unlikely circumstance of my father's death.

I hate how people on the internet, even people that know me pretty well, act like I'm stupid. I crack one joke about how this flu I have, with all the coughing and sneezing, has made me incontinent and they are all "kegels! do your kegels!" HELLO, PEOPLE. I am pregnant with my second kid, do you think I don't know about kegels? Do you think this never occured to me? Before I got pregnant again, I had done tens of thousands of kegels and I still peed my pants once or twice a month from a sneeze. No big deal, that's the price you pay for having a baby.

Being pregnant again, though, now I have this weighty uterus that adds extra pressure to my bladder, so the pee-risk has increased dramatically. It still wouldn't make that big a difference if I didn't keep coughing and sneezing. I was warned that this would happen by a mom from Clydebank. She said to wait until the baby actually kicks me in the bladder and then I will know what incontinence is like. She also did loads of kegels and said they never stopped her from peeing in her pants.

Sure, kegels made a huge difference right after I had Bert and my pelvic floor was totally shot, but after a certain point, they stopped making a difference.

And honestly, I really don't care if I pee in my pants a little when I sneeze or cough. I am just that apathetic.

Baby Bee!
Originally uploaded by chloe & mark nightingale

I still have morning sickness, but it's getting better. Except yesterday, where it almost killed me. I've had it for over 6 weeks. With Bert, I only had it for 5. 5 weeks of permanent nausea. It was baaad then, but worse this time around, even though it comes and goes. At it's worst, I was stuck in bed for a few days. Sweet little Bert was so good, he didn't get upset or anything and was very good at entertaining himself and putting up with bland meals and lots of pasta. I'd wake up from a delirium nausea nap to find his books and toys laid out next to me. He'd bring me this wind-up music-box lion that was mine when I was a kid. I'd wind it up and hand it to him and he'd put it down facing me and patter away. Obviously, I adore him. He is so good to me.

Bert, 17 months, is still mostly in his 9-12 month clothes. There are some 12-18 month clothes that are starting to fit and 12-18 month trousers fit (because he is in cloth diapers). We were given a ton of second-hand clothes (so many, that I gave about 2/3 away to other new moms and still had a ton) that fit him until now, but we are just at the point where we are running out of clothes for him. Never fear, there is an NCT Nearly New Baby Sale in Glasgow in about 3 weeks. They are the best places to get second-hand baby everything. Their clothes are even cheaper than charity shop clothes. There was on in Helensburgh last month and we got Bert some baby uggs for £1.50, some fleece PJs for a couple bucks each, and a couple tops for 50p.  We hardly spent anything.  Mark even found a wee wooden chair for a pound.  This time, we really need to stock up on larger clothes -- the next one won't be for another 7-8 months.

Another Bert story. If you are on facebook, you already read it:
Bert and I have this routine where I take a large roll of tape, put it on his head, and say, "Prince Bertram."  Then I put it on my head and say, "Queen Chloe."  If Mark is around, he is "King Mark."  The other day when Mark was asleep in the other room, Bert crowned himself "Burr" (Bert), crowned me "Burr," and crowned the bowl of popcorn "Dada."

Yesterday, at the grocry store -- I don't know if it's because I at too much or because the chips (fries) tasted funny or because I am just sick, but I had the most painful gas and diarrhea.  I was distracted enough while shopping to forget pretzels and crackers, but when we were in line checking out, I had to give the coupons and stuff to Mark and run to the bathroom.  My guts were cramping so badly.  Anyway, then we have to hurry to the train station and on the way, oh, yes, I get hit with cramps again, but I know there is no toilet until the ferry.  So I hobble-run, carrying Bert, to the train, consider the benefits of shitting myself on the train (like ending the cramps), hobble to the ferry.

Finally, the Seabus arrives and we board.  I hand Bert over to Mark (who has a huge rucksack full of groceries and 3 huge bag for life bags of groceries and run to the toilet.  Phew.  I feel like I am in there forever, but at this point, I am finally all emptied out.

I still felt ill and nauseous when I got home, so I was lying down.  Mark was in the kitchen doing dishes and keeping an eye on Bert when Bert somehow managed to liberate a wee packet of crisps (potato chips) from the table.  He came running into the living room, where I was lying down, with the biggest sweetest grin on his face and handed me the packet of crisps.  The sight of food made me want to crumple, cringe, cramp, and hurl. I buried my face in my pillow and begged Mark to take Bert away.  They shared the packet of crisps in the kitchen.

But later, when Bert was asleep and I was feeling only slightly nauseous, instead of incredibly nauseous, I felt really guilty for burying my face in my pillow when Bert was obviously overjoyed to share a packet of crisps with me.  Bert woke up in the middle of the night and I let him sleep with me for the rest of the night.  He is nice and cuddly.  And I apologised to him for not being very excited about the potato crisps.

We don't get many crafting shows with our Sky package, but there is one that I've been watching -- Quilt in a Day.  www.quiltinaday.com is the site that goes with the show, surprisingly. Suddenly, I have quilting fever.  The host, Eleanor, almost never uses pins and has all these great tricks for getting your corners to match up without having to hand stitch or pin and such.  I had no idea ironing seams made such a difference in piecing stuff together.  A couple years ago, I was given a box of tartan scraps and I am going to use the smaller ones for a patchwork/random/crazy quilt.

I found some Gingher pinking shears and sewing scissors on ebay and they should arrive today or tomorrow.  They were loads cheaper than retail.  Nicey.

Also, I love the show Bones.  It cracks me up. 
Oh, and I totally gave my mom the what-for when she phoned yesterday asking why we didn't want her to visit.

Bought 10kgs of Iranian dates and am waiting for them to arrive.  Can I get an OM NOM NOM?

Also, tomorrow is our 10 year wedding anniversary.  We will be celebrating it like we do every year -- by doing nothing.  At least this year, one of us remembered.  We couldn't remember what day it was for ages. 

For those of you who didn't know, we got married in court in the morning in Mercer County, PA, <lj user = "daintress"> and her husband were the witnesses.  Daintress lent me an old blue brooch and gave me something new (white shoes? or an angel bracelet?) so I could do the whole old/new/borrowed/blue thing.
ETA:  I never finished the recap of our wedding -- the point is that it was not a big deal.  Being together and being married is a big deal to us, just not the wedding.  After all the immigration crap we had to go through to get permission to get married, the wedding felt like applying for a driver's license.

Why the hell was there a TICK hanging from my son's arm when I took his shirt off?  We haven't been outside in over 48 hours and we live on the second floor!  FUCKING nasty.  nastier than my nasty fungal toe.  I've never found a tick on me.

ETA:  Wait, there was a tick on my crotch years ago on a road trip.  I thought I had crabs and freaked out, wondering how the hell I got crabs, only to find out months later it was a tick.

Just made Bert his first peanut-butter and jelly sandwich (on whole wheat bread) right now and he is really enjoying it.  (I found some sugarless/all-fruit blueberry jam at the store and it is delicious.) 

Bert has started giving me "back rubs" where he alternates between smacking my shoulders and hugging me from behind.  He started it one day when I asked Mark to rub my shoulders (after I returned from the grocery store with some very heavy bags) and now he will randomly crawl over and start giving me a "back rub!"

I am really behind on LJ.

Soak cow peas (aka black-eyed peas) overnight. Drain.

Boil a pot of water with:
cow peas
any greens or any green or white cabbage or kale
jalapeño
bay leaf
(stewed tomatoes or coconut milk)

Oil up a pan and fry:
finely diced onion
shredded carrot
(celery)
equal parts garlic and ginger

Put a ladle of liquid from the pot into the pan to deglase and add contents of pan to pot.

Add Chloe's Cajun Blend (recipe follows) to pot. Salt to taste.

Roast in oven: halved and deseeded (green) bell peppers (cut side down) with a smidge of olive oil.
Remove from oven when pepper skins are starting to brown, slice into strips, and stir into pot.

At this point, your cow peas will probably have been cooking for about 40 minutes or so. You want to boil them for at least an hour and you want the liquid in the pot to be nice and thick and opaque.

Serve with rice or millet.

Chloe's Cajun Blend:
Paprika
Cumin
Chili Powder
Thyme
Oregano
dash Turmeric
(and garlic, ginger, and a bay leaf, but you already added those!)

(As far as portions go, quantities are up to you, but I like at least a cup of soaked cow peas, half a carrot, a quarter of an onion, half a cup of shredded cabbage, and one bell pepper per person.)

So, I applied for citizenship in March and have heard nothing until Wednesday, when I received a letter that basically asked why I bothered applying when I had been arrested for assault and had a pending prosecution and they should refuse my application for being deceptive.

So I wrote back, explaining I hadn't been arrested, there was no impending prosecution, I'd paid a £50 fixed penalty (that did not count as a conviction) to have the matter dropped, and it said in their application guidelines I didn't have to mention fixed penalties.  And I sent them lots of paperwork and receipts.

Sheesh.

Also, http://www.facebook.com/bompkins