Holly Treats

Nathan and I made these today...


They were messy, but really, really easy. And, from what I could tell, mostly edible. I also made sugar cookies and Russian tea cookies. I've never known how to make really good sugar cookies, and I don't know how to "do" frosting right, so those were just OK. The tea cookies don't look like anything special, but they taste soooo good. We gave some to the neighbors, but yes, Mom, you'll be getting some. :) Believe it or not, we're in the middle of one whopper of a rainstorm here in Southern California. I don't think it's stopped raining for 48 hours. Good cookie-making weather. These little holly thingamabobs were by far the easiest treat I made this weekend. I'm not sure how appetizing they are, though!

Crazy Much?

The last dream I had last night went something like this: my mom and I were going to have dinner at Don Cuco's, a local Mexican restaurant we both like. As we were walking in, someone asked us to conceal a gun in one of our purses, which she was happy to do. When we got inside, my mom proceeded to seat herself at a table for two (which I think I found weirder than the gun thing). I realized that I was hot, so I took off my cardigan sweater only to discover I had no shirt on underneath. Then a cheerleader wearing swastikas on her uniform walked by, followed by a bunch of men playing flutes. I then yelled to the entire restaurant, "What the hell is going on here?!" And then I woke up.

I blame Christmas.

'Tis the Season...

...for terrorizing your toddler by handing him off to a strange, fluffy, red-coated man with a beard and then forcing him to take a picture. Hmmm. Guess I don't blame him.

Happy Hanukkah

When I picked up Nathan from school today, he had this little masterpiece clutched in his rarely-clean little hands. I wish I had recorded the ensuing conversation, but it went something like this...

Me: "Did you color that for Hanukkah today?"

Nathan: "Yes! I drew this cake for Hanukkah! And you know what? There are eight candles, and the big one lights the other ones! We should have a cake like this."

Me: "Well, Hanukkah is a Jewish holiday, so we don't celebrate it." (That sounds mean...I really didn't say it in a mean way.)

Nathan: "Like Abe's family is Jewish."

Me: "He must be excited because tonight is the first night of Hanukkah. And you know what? He gets to open a present each night."

Nathan: "AW MAN! I wish we were Jewish!"

Me: (Stifled laughter)

Nathan: "Can't we just pretend so that I can get presents, too?"

Me: "You'll get plenty of presents at Christmas."

Happy Hanukkah! Enjoy blowing out the candles on your cake... Oh, wait. My bad.

Grandparents' Day

The following post was written by my mom after a blustery Grandparents' Day at Nathan's school. Who enjoyed it more? :)

Today was Grandparents' Day at Nathan's school. There were a lot of grandparents who participated. I didn't count, but perhaps 25? grandparents squeezed into room 4. Upon entering, the kids set up the tiny little chairs for us to sit in. The grandparents were "introduced" by their grandchildren; some just pointed, some just smiled, one got teary-eyed, and some (like Nathan) introduced us by name: "That's my Grandma C, Grandma T and Papa." Mrs. Head asked us to tell something about the kindergarten we remembered when we were kids. Memories of soup cooking in the cafeteria, 5-cent milk cartons, and girls having to wear dresses to school everyday (without tights), rain or shine, were some of the comments. Then the class sang a few songs to entertain us. Soon we headed out to "table 2" to eat lunch. Nathan led the way. We all sat at the metal picnic tables and ate our lunch. Nathan enjoyed his rather unconventional lunch (a pumpkin chocolate chip muffin from Grandma C, half a bagel with cream cheese and pretzels from Grandma T, and hot chocolate (Before we left the house it was freezing outside... hence the hot chocolate, which, of course, really wasn't hot, basically room-temperature chocolate milk) which Nathan loved and reported that he never gets chocolate milk at school :-). Then Nathan directed us to "the wall" where "you have to wait until the yard duty comes." We followed directions; and, of course, he was right. Soon the yard duty lined us up and we were escorted to the kindergarten patio/play yard where the kids could finish up eating (which, believe it or not, Nathan elected to do) if they so desired before playing in the yard. Everything went so smoothly... don't know how those teachers do it! And when the final whistle was blown, Nathan came over and gave the three of each a big hug (We didn't ask him to; it was spontaneous... awhhh), twice actually, before joining the line and marching back to class.I know we all had a great time and will remember it forever! Thanks for including us :-)

In Memory...

Mini-blind rattler.
Bed warmer.
Couch companion.
Apple lover.
Queen of the closet.
Toddler toy.

Above all...friend.

We will always remember you.

Pumpkin 1999-2010

Like a Good Neighbor

I've never been especially good at getting to know neighbors. I have no trouble being friendly, but I have a hard time being friends. Since moving to our new house in July, I've met a number of neighbors, all of whom have been welcoming and kind. But, being me, I haven't (as of yet) made any friends on our street. No need to push it; we have years to get to know people. But I don't want to seem standoffish, something that "shy" people sometimes appear to be. It's just that, when it comes to the actual neighborhood where I live, I like to give people their space.

Anyway, two houses up there's a retired couple. I've only seen the woman once, when they very kindly introduced themselves to us a few weeks after we moved in. I do, however, see the man often, as he picks up his grandkids from Nathan's school several times a week. He always reminds me of my dad, at least by appearance...despite the fact he's Filipino. I think. Go figure. He's very quiet and reserved and doesn't ever approach me, but I try to make some sort of pleasantry when I see him--a smile, a "hi," or, if I'm feeling really chatty, a "hello." Well, today I thought I'd break the ice. I walked over to him and asked, with genuine interest, "What's our neighborhood like at Halloween? Are there lots of trick-or-treaters?" He looked at me and gave a little shrug. "I don't really know. I don't celebrate it. It's all devil worship to me," he said with a slight--very slight--chuckle.

Damn it, Kristin. I guess it's time to go back to "hi."

At least he didn't see this.

Mom QOTD

"No, you CANNOT poop in someone's yard! You have to wait until we get home!"

Runner up:

"If you hit my camera again, I'm taking away all your toys forever!"

Just another day of not being voted Mom of the Year.

Little Punk(in)s

Awesome trip to the pumpkin patch this weekend!

The weather was cool.
The sunflowers were bright.
The scarecrows were creepy (especially the Michael Jackson one).
The train was bumpy.
The pumpkins were plentiful.
The petting zoo animals were docile.
The tomatoes I purchased go perfectly on a salami and cheese sandwich.

Could it get any better?

Happy Birthday to Me

So, my birthday is coming to a close for another year. Somehow I always take comfort in knowing that even though I'm getting older, Angelina Jolie will always be older than me. Not sure why that's comforting, it just is. Furthermore, I'm beginning to appreciate the saying, "Having another birthday is better than the alternative." I'm a lucky gal. That's for sure.

I'm going to go watch mind-numbing TV with my belly full of mint chocolate chip ice cream soon (it's "light," so it's OK). But I had to share a brief conversation Brendan and I had this morning:

Me: Before I forget, I have to tell you about a dream I had right before I woke up. We were sitting at a big table with all of my family members. You were eating a huge slice of pizza, and you asked me if I wanted any. I yelled at you, "NO, I don't want any PIZZA!" And then I poured soda all over my head.

Brendan: If I didn't know you, I'd say you were crazy.

Me: And since you do know me?

Brendan: I'd say you were crazy.

Nighty-night from the old lady.

Wow. Just. Wow.

There are sunsets.

And then there are sunsets.

I took this tonight, and I really don't think I've ever seen anything like it before.

Magical.

Rose Bush

So, it's been months since I've been active on this blog, and what is it that I've been dying to write about? Well, bugs, naturally. And I wonder why I don't have a social life.

Not long after we moved into our new house in July, I decided to prune the one rose bush we have growing at the side of our backyard. As I was taking my clippings to the trash can, I suddenly felt something move against my arm. Looking down, I noticed it was a small praying mantis. I then proceeding to scream like I did when I attended my first post millennium New Kids on the Block concert. But it wasn't out of disturbingly misplaced pre-pubescent joy. I just, um, tend to startle easily. Ask Brendan. He'll gladly tell you about the time he and Evan snuck up on me in the bathroom one morning. Anyway, after letting Nathan enjoy the little guy's (girl's?) company for a while, I returned him to the rose bush, figuring I owed him that much.


So, as the days and weeks went on, I noticed that this rose bush had become this guy's permanent home (OK, so I can't prove it was the same praying mantis, but still...). Just about every time we went out in the backyard, I went over to greet him. Despite my previous completely inappropriate response to finding him on my arm, I really do like praying mantises more than just about any other insects. Why? Personality. I don't know of any other animal, let alone a bug, who will cock its head in your direction, put up its dukes in a "Rocky-esque" pose, and give you a death stare that rivals the best Calvin Klein model's. I also love that, for the longest time, Nathan called them "PRY-ICK" mantises. I guess that shows you how often we go to church.

So, this tenacious little critter grew...


And before long, a friend came to live with him. A friend who probably wanted to eat him, but that's neither here nor there. A psychotic side note: whenever I see a grasshopper, I imagine myself eating him. Not because it looks tasty and I want Andrew Zimmern's job, but because I'm terrified of it jumping all cattywompus and landing in my mouth. Just a weird beef I have with grasshoppers. Sorry.


And then, there's this guy. Not sure how he got invited to this party, but you know spiders, always barging in where they don't belong.


One day, while Nathan and I were playing a spirited, and angrily competitive, round of "Red Light, Green Light" in the backyard, I looked down at the grass to see that I was millimeters away from crunching yet another praying mantis into oblivion. From his size and tan color, I could see that he was a geriatric mantis and deserved a spot on The Rose Bush. To make this story even more disturbing, notice that this poor chap is missing a front limb:


Moments after I took this picture, I caught the first praying mantis giving me this attitude:


What? You think you own this rose bush? I own you, holmes.

But time went on. The grasshopper got older, bigger, browner, and, in my opinion, less inclined to jump in my mouth. Eventually, he and the One-Armed Bandit disappeared as the sweltering dog days of autumn were upon us (if you live in SoCal, you know what I mean).

However, one sultry afternoon, I spotted this tiny baby grasshopper, and realized that the circle of life does, indeed, keep spinning.


Welcome to the neighborhood, kid. I hope you'll stay a while.

Hi, I Used to Write Things Here

I have about one minute before Evan starts screaming "A-llooooo!" at the top of his lungs upstairs. But I think my skin will start to crawl and my head break out in flames if I let one more second go by without posting something, anything, one word on this blog since it's been--egads!--over two months and I'm sure no one on earth is reading it anymore.

**sounds of crickets**

Yep, I was right.

Anyway, I've thought about all the quirky things I could talk about here: from my pre-, medi-, and post-move freak-outs, decor advice from my many readers (stop it, crickets!), frozen yogurt reviews, kindergarten angst, and all the critters that I've found living on my rose bush outside.

But, alas, my kiddo is crying. So, I'll tease you for one more day... or 39. You never know.

On the Market

So, the gist of the story is this: very shortly after starting to work with a real estate agent last month, we found a wonderful home in our area. Before we knew it, we had put an offer on it, the offer was (mostly) accepted, and we had to sell our house. Make that HAVE to sell hour house. Still. Fast forward through a whirlwind three weeks of rearranging, cleaning and staging, and we’re still waiting for that buyer to walk through our door. But in these few weeks, which have seemed like months, I have learned some very interesting things about putting your house on the market while still living in it. Thought I’d share ‘em.

• You will decide that it’s finally time to clean the quarter-inch layer of dust from your mini blinds.

• Staging your family room makes it totally beautiful and totally unlivable all at the same time.

• You hope that the house hunters walking through your door are just a little bit blind. Just enough not to notice your dirty baseboards, uneven paint, and scratched floors. But not so blind that they don’t see that your house is the most fabulous edifice they’ve ever seen and they must have it now. Take that, Oprah. (Why am I picking on Oprah??)

• People who come to look at your house will use your bathroom. They won’t put the seat down. And one of them won’t flush. No, seriously.

• You will be constantly on pins and needles waiting for that call from a realtor saying, “Can I come by in fifteen minutes?”

• When you pass by the realtor on your way out the door, you will pretend that you were leaving anyway and it is no inconvenience whatsoever.

• You almost wish your cat could talk so she could tell you the snarky, mean things people are saying about your home and its possessions. Then you realize that would send you off to the mental hospital, and its best she’s just a regular old cat.

• You eat a lot of frozen dinners.

• You pretend that your house doesn’t smell, even though everyone else’s does.

• You will know terror like you’ve never felt before when you think you left the poopy diaper at the top of the stairs before a showing. (You will then almost cry with relief when you realize that you did, in fact, toss it in the garbage bin.)

• You will finally start having dreams of taking your Spanish final exam, without having studied for it, and with a pencil that keeps breaking.

To be continued…

Somewhere in Time

Last week the boys and I took what I'm calling my "Valley Nostalgia Tour 2010." After lunch with three lovely ladies whom I used to work with (back in the day when I used an alarm clock and didn't wear the same pair of pants two days in a row), we stopped off at the church where Brendan and I were married (and where I went to school until age nine) and my childhood home, which I hadn't seen in...well, I honestly don't remember. Well over a decade. Not only did I want to take a walk down the proverbial Memory Lane, I was intent upon attempting a photo assignment.

I recently discovered a group on Flickr called Looking Into the Past. Here's the link, if you're interested: www.flickr.com/groups/lookingintothepast.

The gist is this: you take a old picture to the exact spot where it was originally taken, hold it up in front of your camera, line everything up the best you can, and take a picture showing the old photo and current location combined into one trippy view. Some people actually morph their pictures using Photoshop, but I think the coolest pictures are the ones where you actually see the picture held up to the camera by the photographer.

I made my first attempt at this technique at the church, which, sadly, has seen better days. I recently discovered that it's closing its doors after over 60 years. But a new church is coming in, one that sounds like it could either be a church or a rehab facility. Not that there's anything wrong with either churches or rehab facilities. Anyway, a lot of the landmarks that were there when we got married (trees, shrubs, even some walls) were gone. But after several tries, I did manage to get this:


Of all the pictures I took, this one lines up the best (note the doors in the background). I also like it because it has Evan's stroller off to the side. The original photo is one of my favorite prints from our wedding. It was taken about a minute (maybe less) after we exited the church and was--as you could guess--not posed. It makes me happy.

Here's another picture from out in front of the church. I couldn't line up anything here since someone decided to mow down all the trees. But at least it's the same spot:

Our next stop was the house where I spent my early childhood. Wow. I couldn't believe how much had changed, but yet, at the same time, being there felt the same way it did when I was a kid. I've come to the conclusion that there's a particularly unique feeling you get when you revisit a location known intimately to you as a child. When you perceive a place only through the filter of young eyes, the impression is a strange mix of reality and fantasy, and although it may look different (most often, smaller) as an adult, it feels so heavy with the weight of your past. I don't know if that made sense, but it's hard to even put this particular sensation into words. I'm sure the French have a simple, elegant word that means what I'm hopelessly trying to convey. Or the Germans. But their word probably has seventeen syllables. And it's capitalized.

So, this is a picture of my childhood home in the 1970s:


Here it is now:


And here's my attempt at creating a worm hole in the middle of the San Fernando Valley:


I like this one because if you look really closely at the old picture, there's a goofy old stroller. I'll take my mom's word for it that I'm in that stroller, next to our dog, Molly. I also like it because a very out-of-focus Nathan is sauntering off to the right side:


While the Spanish style of the house is painfully out-of-place considering the surrounding ranch-style homes, I was happy to see that the old homestead looked good. In fact, the entire cul-de-sac looked nice, which was a relief, since you never know what you're going to get in the Valley after 25 years. We took a short walk around the corner, and I was, however, tickled to see that the house we dubbed "Junkman Jack's House" when I was a kid still earns that moniker. Here's Nathan heading down the street I roamed 31,378 times when I was a little girl. I guess Memory Lane does exist, after all:

Up Close and Personal

Or maybe I should have titled this, "What Happens When You Give a Four-Year-Old a Video Camera." In case you don't have one, I highly recommend this little baby:


It's a great pocket-sized video recorder called a Flip Video. Naturally, we already have two of them. Well, last month I gave Nathan the "old" one to mess around with. Last week I found this on it. If you're a tad squeamish, perhaps you'd better watch it on an empty stomach.

I find it interesting that this (whatever "this" is) would have never happened back in the '80s when I was a kid. My parents' video camera was the size and weight of a microwave. An '80s microwave. But thanks to lightweight, user-friendly modern technology, we have my son's uvula immortalized for the ages. Not sure if that's a good or a bad thing. Only time will tell.

Everything but the Kitchen Sink

I had to write a post just so I could use that title. You see, we're doing some home improvement projects around our house right now. Last week we had all our bathroom countertops and kitchen sink resurfaced. We also got brand spankin' new faucets. We couldn't be happier with the results; however, it did mean that we didn't have a usable kitchen sink for four days. Instead, we had this:


Now, it's not like we didn't have any running water. It's not even that we didn't have any usable sinks. But not having a working sink in the kitchen left me a tad...off-kilter. Seriously. I could have never survived in the Old West, medieval Europe, that place they went to in "Land of the Lost"... You get the picture. We ate hot dogs (gross ones at that) for two nights. We got take-out another two nights. We used paper plates and plastic forks. Without running water right at my fingertips, I had no concept of how to prepare meals, clean crumbs, do dishes. Every time I entered the kitchen, I just kind of went into a state of flustered confusion. What do I do? Where am I? How did I get here? What's my name again? Dozens of times, I would find myself just staring at the sink, hoping that faucets might just appear. Stranger things have happened. Right? I'm sure they have.

Anyway, that's all in the past. I'm happy to report that, as of noon today, this is what our sink looks like:


I will refrain from complaining about anything at all for the next...19 minutes. :)

Where in the World?

Just for kicks and giggles, I added a new gadget to my blog. If you scroll down to the bottom of the page, you'll see a map of the world. When someone visits my blog, the map will indicate his or her general location with a pink dot (I chose pink because I'm a girl, despite my son's occasional claims to the contrary). If said visitor is currently online, the dot will flash. But please don't worry. This map does not tell me who visited from each location, how many times you visited, how long you stayed, your address, phone number, political affiliation, annual income, weight, height, favorite reality TV shows, or whether you passed gas in the last fifteen minutes. You have to pay extra for all that stuff, and I'm cheap. So, I hope you don't feel as though your privacy/anonymity is violated too much. After all, that's what Facebook is for. Thanks for stopping by, fellow Earthling!

Busy Bee

Well, it seems as though Evan has inherited my compulsion to keep busy by moving objects around for no logical reason or purpose. He spent about ten minutes this morning taking four granola bars in and out of their box. Enjoy. But please ignore my messy kitchen floor. And the boo boo on Evan's face.

Goodbye, my friend

I like weird stuff. Do you like weird stuff? I mean, sure, there are things almost all of us like. Christmas. Cookies. Betty White. But then there are things that not necessarily everyone likes. But I do. Things like (in no particular order) prunes, pirates, unintentionally funny bad English grammar, rain, mushy cereal, TV shows about ghosts (this could be a post in itself...probably will someday), my baby's jammies with the feet that look like dog heads, addressing Christmas cards, and clipping coupons (even if I forget to use them). And up until today, included in the list was GemsTV. About a year-and-a-half ago, I discovered GemsTV in the middle of the night while suffering from pregnancy-induced insomnia. It's one of those home shopping channels that sells all sorts of pretty jewelry--all the livelong day. I don't know why, because I don't purchase jewelry all that often, but I instantly found this channel comforting, entertaining, and just a little bit addicting. There was just something about seeing one sparkly bauble after another come on the screen that had me mesmerized, at least for a few minutes at a time. Oh, one weird thing? I never ordered anything. Well, at least, not until today. For whatever reason, today was the last day GemsTV was on the air. They had a big "going out in style" sale, and ::poof:: all the pretty baubles were gone. I'm sure Brendan was relieved that I decided to order a simple silver necklace rather than those tanzanite and diamond rings that always had me drooling. I guess I just wanted to say "thank you" to GemsTV for being a guilty pleasure for me these last couple of years. Er...um...and I guess I kind of wanted to take advantage of their clearance prices and treat myself to something shiny. I no longer suffer from insomnia. Having a baby wake you up several times a night will do that. But if I ever do find myself wide awake at 2:00 a.m. without a child to care for, it will be with a heavy heart that I watch that shampoo infomercial with Melissa Gilbert instead.

Sweet Spring

I think every year I forget how much I love spring until it's actually here. If every month could be like March and April, I'd be as happy as Larry. The craziness of the holidays are behind us, the oppressive heat of the summer is a distant memory, and our local hills are alive with lush green grasses and wildflowers, rather than the ugly, dry kindling of summer and fall.

In addition, there are flowers like this in our backyard...


Easter eggs...


For the first time, t-ball...


And these fellas walking down the street in front of our house...


Summer, please take the scenic route. No need to rush. Spring is welcomed to stay as long as she wants.

That's One Small Step for a Baby...

...one giant leap for the Conrad Family! I'm going to let the video speak for itself!




Evan just started walking (as in two steps or more) on Tuesday. He takes a couple more each day! No foolin'! :)

Birthday Blast

Be on the lookout for the birthday bash truck. It hit everyone in my family this weekend and left us dragging, sore, but wonderfully tired. I even have the frosting skid marks on my head to prove it. (Hmmm...was that too graphic?) On Friday we took Evan out to our favorite family eatery, Souplanation, where we left a crumb trail throughout the entire restaurant. I will never forgive SP for introducing grilled cheese focaccia into my life. Anyway, following dinner, we returned home for a few gifts and Evan's first cupcake! It was a nice mellow way to usher in the weekend.



Yesterday was his party in the park--the same one where we had Nathan's first birthday. Fortunately, it was about 25 degrees cooler than that day back in 2006, but it was still very warm! Park parties always leave my head swimming in a mix of elation, silliness, anxiety, dirt, sugar, and exhaustion. We're so lucky so many family and friends wanted to come out and celebrate with us, despite completely inadequate quantities of restrooms, comfortable seating, sanity, roast beef sandwiches and cutlery. Thank you to you all!

Countdown to One!

In some ways, this picture seems like yesterday; in others, it seems like a very long time ago! This was the moment I met Evan. And it's hard to believe that a few hours shy of 12 months later, he's eating curried chicken with half a mouthful of teeth, standing, waving bye-bye, bopping to music, tackling the cat, and--on very special occasions--sleeping through the night. They really do change so fast. I've loved sharing this year with my little mover and shaker, having him attached to my hip (and other parts...), and watching him become more of a kid every day. But it's with a heavy heart that I start to let go of the baby days because they are, most definitely, the sweetest days I've ever known.

Hippity Hoppity

Just thought I'd share the story behind this picture of the boys with the Easter Bunny. We absolutely had to do it this year, since Nathan missed out on meeting him (?) last year since we were so busy with newborn Evan.

We had just finished a wonderful meal at TGI Friday's (buy one entree, get one free--you can't beat that), when I realized we were a mere 30 feet from this happy (and trim!) critter. As you may have guessed from the boys' attire, we weren't planning on getting this picture taken. In fact, if you had been there two minutes before this picture were taken, this is what you would have seen: 1) my upending Evan's sippy cup so that I could use its contents (water, phew) to wash off the pizza remnants from Nathan's face and to plaster down his stubborn cowlick; 2) despite it being a comfortable evening, us zipping up the boys' hoodies to cover their t-shirts (Nathan's had the Superman symbol on it, and Evan's had a robot with the ominous warning, "Don't push my buttons"); and 3) the invisible wheels of Brendan's and my brains turning to realize that 30 feet away + no line + four arms for two children + a "free" Shutterfly gift card = a perfect time to get a picture taken with the Easter Bunny.

Shenanigans

I'm not creative. Never claimed to be. But I do get the whole "St. Patrick's Day = green" thing. That's easy enough. So, I decided to use that theme (you know, green) to have a little fun yesterday. First off, we dressed Evan is his authentic Irish soccer outfit, gifted to him by a nice friend of Brendan's (I'm sorry I can't call it football. That's too Euro for me.)



Next, I made Nathan a traditional Irish breakfast:



What, you mean the Irish don't eat Lucky Charms and drink green milk every day. Gah!

While Evan napped, a random idea popped into my head. I had some potatoes in the fridge for dinner, and I figured a super easy craft would be to make a shamrock potato stamp. Usually my craft ideas are profoundly disappointing, but surprisingly, this one wasn't. I think simplicity is key. I only had yellow and blue paints, but since I watched "Sesame Street" when I was little, I knew what to do.







I'm surprised how well this worked! And I only stabbed myself with the knife once while making the stamp. Yes!

For lunch, we went with avocado (green), key lime yogurt (green) and...hot dogs (not green...at least not usually). But I did have yellow mustard. And blue food coloring. Once again, "Sesame Street" saves the day! You may not want to see this one...



Oh no, she didn't!! Yes, she did.

So, that leaves us with dinner. Sigh. I had every good intention of enjoying a traditional corned beef, cabbage, and potato dinner. And I did make it. Here, look:



But it took an insanely long time to cook the corned beef. And I made the mistake of taking it out several times to check on it before it was fully cooked. And that combined with the otherworldly stench of the cabbage just turned my stomach. I couldn't bare to eat it, and not surprisingly, neither could Brendan.

So, I finally had this for dinner instead:



With this on top:


And it tasted pretty wonderful. As far as I'm concerned, this could become a tradition. Oh wait...it already is. :)