The post title is solely for my sister, with whom I had this IM conversation this morning (we were each watching the news on Irene in our respective homes):
Her: did you hear that doom and gloom Today show music? geeeeez
Me: noooooo. didn't hear it, or i just wasn't paying attention
Her: good god.
that was enough to scare anybody
Me: they are all talking like they're at a funeral
Her: i know..
i hate the term "hunker down"
i actually like it.
Me: makes me think of not having to go anywhere and being snug with plenty of food and something good to read.
Her: what does it mean?
Me: i don't know.
i think it means "don't go anywhere and be snug with plenty of food and something good to read."
along the lines of "batten down the hatches"
1. Squat or crouch down low: "he hunkered down beside her".
2. Take shelter in a defensive position: "hunker down and let it blow over".
well there you go.
but can you use the word "hunker" alone? or does it have to be with "down"
i don't know.
you should give it a try today and see if people look at you funny.
what if I hunker up?
brb, i have to cook bill some eggs
i'm back. just before i went upstairs, some reporter said "everyone is hunkering down" and i burst out laughing and everyone just looked at me.
hahaha i heard that
not you, him
Well, in terms of hunkering down, yesterday we picked up the yard and put potential flying missiles in the garage. We also picked a ton of tomatoes – red and green – because we don’t want them getting smashed by the heavy wind and rain tomorrow.
Then we did a bunch of cooking.
I prepped tomatoes and onions for a relish I’ll be canning later today.
So pretty! And we grew EVERYTHING in that bowl. Tomatoes (red, green, and white), and onions (white and red/purple).
I salted all of that, covered it with plastic and put it aside to sit overnight.
Bill worked on a HUGE batch of veggie burgers. We picked up some zucchini and yellow squash at the farmers’ market in the morning; enough for 7 batches, which will give us about 35-40 burgers to pack away.
After sauteeing everything, Bill added in some shredded cheese, eggs, and oatmeal. The whole mess is in a huge bowl in the fridge. Today he’ll shape it into patties and cook them all. Then we’ll freeze them, and we’ll have a whole bunch of future meals ready to go.
I love the fact that my kids LOVE veggie burgers – especially the ones Bill makes.
Another cool thing is that this summer their tolerance for heat has increased.
We love hot and spicy food, Bill and I. Julia likes to occasionally show how tough she is by eating something we’re eating, but only when she’s sort of competing with Alex. (Never mind sports, we compete with chili peppers here.)
But a few weeks ago Bill made a red Thai curry and both kids LOVED it. We’ve been making fresh salsa with the tomatoes, onions, and jalapenos from the garden, and both kids love that, too.
This is AWESOME.
Yesterday Bill picked some ripe tomatillos, and I made a fabulous salsa with them.
And – again – both kids LOVED it.
Oh, and we also got two huge, beautiful eggplants at the farmers’ market:
The one on the left weighed over two pounds.
I made a double batch of eggplant parmesan with them and a vat of tomato sauce I’d simmered for most of the day. The kids loved that, too.
I’ve come to the conclusion that our kids can pretty much do whatever they want in life – teach, play instruments, become professional athletes, rob banks, run for office – anything, and as long as they continue to be adventurous about eating, we’ll always be proud of them.
And that’s where we are at this moment.
The calm before the storm, in whatever form Irene takes by the time she arrives.
OH – one more thing. Yesterday I invented a term:
Hurricaniacs: The people who go crazy buying up all the water, bread and milk and batteries in preparation for a hurricane, leaving nothing behind for people who have actually and legitimately run out of something.
Gotta go now. I want to finish the laundry, just in case we lose power for more than a day.
Are you in Irene’s path? How have you fared (if you’ve already been hit), and how are you hunkering down, if you’re still, like me, waiting.