tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2008://1 2008-03-06T04:07:40Z Once a peasant, always a peasant. Movable Type 3.33 tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2008://1.58 2008-03-06T03:55:45Z 2008-03-06T04:07:40Z

The problem, of course, is trying to kick-start a blog after many months of neglect. Where do you start? Do you start by commenting on the huge amount of spam you've been getting? Or maybe start up with the lighter...

PeasantDaughter The problem, of course, is trying to kick-start a blog after many months of neglect. Where do you start? Do you start by commenting on the huge amount of spam you've been getting? Or maybe start up with the lighter (and more humanitarian) story of how the blog actually put you in touch with a childhood friend you hadn't seen in over 20 years. A few months back, I got an email from a family friend who contacted me after he'd chanced across this tiny little blog. How's that for serendipity? (I suppose serendipity has another name these days, with the all-out accessibility the web provides, but hey....) It was really great to hear from this family friend/cousin-in-waiting--and somewhat sad to know that so many years had gone by with us not being in touch. It's always those years-going-by that kills me in the end, I have to admit. I'm a Serb after all, a member of one of the most stuck-in-the-past peoples who still inhabit the earth, and as much as I'd like to say that I can leave the past in the past, hey, who am I kidding? I can do it about 85% of the time, and the rest of the time, I'm toast. This despite the fact that having a kid has catapulted me pretty damn firmly into the here-and-now, where, as most of us know, life happens to be a-happening. But every once in a while, don't you wish you could turn back the clock so that you could go back and fix a few things (otherwise known as major life mistakes, ha). On that melancholy note, it's nice to be back! tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2007://1.57 2007-09-28T22:50:59Z 2007-09-28T22:56:11Z

Yikes, I can't believe it's been so long since I posted anything! Apologies. I've been recuperating from a terrible haircut, cut so short that I was looking (and even acting) like a cancer victim for a while. Now that it's...

PeasantDaughter Yikes, I can't believe it's been so long since I posted anything! Apologies. I've been recuperating from a terrible haircut, cut so short that I was looking (and even acting) like a cancer victim for a while. Now that it's grown out a bit, it's much more malleable. On a bad day, I look like the Incredible Hulk. Or a 13-year-old boy. Maybe even a punk rocker, if I'm lucky. On a good day, my husband tells me, I look like Mia Farrow when she was younger. Ha. As if! He must mean a Balkan Mia Farrow. tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2007://1.56 2007-07-30T19:21:32Z 2007-07-30T19:35:38Z

You can definitely tell Mali Zub's got some Balkan DNA by the way he eats bread. Loves it, can't get enough! Which is how you can tell he's got Serbian blood coursing though his veins, for the Serbs eat bread...

PeasantDaughter loooooves rice (although maybe possibly he might just love bread a little bit better). Just as long as he's got a starch in front of him, I guess. Which makes me wonder: is there an ethnic group out there that doesn't have some form of starch as a dietary mainstay? My Mexican friend eats tortillas like they're going out of style, and the stereotype of the Irish potato... well, you know that one. But what about others? ]]> tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2007://1.55 2007-07-24T19:06:47Z 2007-07-24T21:27:39Z

I was out to dinner at a local Italian restaurant when a familiar-looking couple walked in the door. "That looks like my accountant," I said, delving into a load of bread. "You're kidding," my friend B. said. "Those people? I...

PeasantDaughter anything." When I got home, I relayed this information to Kimo, who, like B., already knew about the apparently-not-so-secret double lives of our accountant and his wife. I guess I was the only one who was taking things at face value, putting stock into those tiny little type-written titles that appear on business cards. But it got me thinking: how many of us lead secret or not-so-secret double lives? And is it just an American thing, or is it a world-wide phenomenon? ]]> tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2007://1.54 2007-07-18T21:16:07Z 2007-07-19T05:52:53Z

After a relaxing (and unplugged) week in Kauai, Kimo, Mali Zub and I were at the Lihue airport Sunday night when we learned our flight back was canceled due to technical difficulties. Well, as you might guess, that didn't exactly...

PeasantDaughter is my child," a woman said. "What! He must be at least 24!" And on and on it went. One boisterous young woman and her husband (who were duking it out with the airlines via matching iPod phones) continued complaining at the top of their voices until the ticketing agent couldn't take it anymore and finally gave in. Never mind that the elderly passengers, who were next in line for the shuttle, continued to wait patiently while the youngest children screamed and cried out of exhaustion and fear. And all the while, I couldn't help but think how horrible it was to see so many adults acting this way. Never mind that we were in Kauai--gorgeous, relaxing Kauai of all places--where food and lodging were just a shuttle ride away. The way people were acting, you'd have thought we were stuck in the desert or some Survivor-type island where there wasn't enough food or water to go around. Instead, we'd been given an extra day of vacation, put up in a gorgeous $380-a-night hotel, and given a $40/day food reimbursement. In the middle of all this craziness, two separate families asked if we needed any help, since we were traveling with a baby. The kindness of those two gestures have stayed with me these past few days, past another red-eye and into the jet-lagged haze of adjusting to post-vacation life. Still, it's frightening to realize how quickly our society could break down if something were really wrong. All the social norms as we know it, out the window. ]]> tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2007://1.53 2007-07-06T00:16:55Z 2007-07-06T00:28:05Z

So here we are, madly packing, getting ready for vacation. Which is quite the production now that we're traveling with a crawling and wanting-to-walk Mali Zub. It's amazing how much stuff we have for the little bugger. Let's just say...

PeasantDaughter So here we are, madly packing, getting ready for vacation. Which is quite the production now that we're traveling with a crawling and wanting-to-walk Mali Zub. It's amazing how much stuff we have for the little bugger. Let's just say that Kimo and I are sharing one suitcase while Mali Zub (and all his gear) gets the other. Yikes. My mother, The Original Peasant Woman, who's watching Zubs while we pack, is slightly horrified. Very Un-Peasant-Like behavior, how much stuff we're schlepping along. Especially since we're not even traveling with a serious Peasant Provisions bag, which usually includes a chicken, a loaf of bread, salami and whatever other stinky foodstuffs you can cram into your bag. The smeller, the better, I've found, since it usually helps keep your neighboring seat mates from inching into your space. tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2007://1.52 2007-06-27T17:37:02Z 2007-06-27T18:03:12Z

One of my favorite things about Peasant Life are all the contradictions that accompany it. Like the reaction I got from my Old World Peasant Relatives when I made the mistake of showing up in shorts for a visit. The...

PeasantDaughter One of my favorite things about Peasant Life are all the contradictions that accompany it. Like the reaction I got from my Old World Peasant Relatives when I made the mistake of showing up in shorts for a visit. The looks (and comments I got from aunties kind enough to pull me aside) were enough to make your toes curl up in disdain. Apparently visits from young-to-middle-aged women in their childbearing years should be done properly, with said women all wrapped up in skirts and heels and other citified accoutrements. Like hair dye. Preferably, in our Balkan corner of the world, a deep, dark red (left over from Communism, I guess). And here's where I made my second and even more serious mistake: in addition to not dyeing my increasingly gray hair, I'd forgotten to wear makeup. (I know! You wouldn't thought I was back home, in one of the college towns where I always seem to be living. Ack.) And it was a major mistake at that -- a personal affront to the Gods that be -- in this case, the Grand Peasant Lineage that Makes Up My Family (hereafter known as The Peasants That Be). So I'm working on making it up to them. Painting and anti-graying and picturing the looks on their Anti-Peasant faces when I make my next Balkan appearance, all spiffed up and gentrified. Well, maybe. It's kind of hard to look glamorous when you've got baby food stuck in your hair. Although I hear avocados are wonderfully detoxifying.... tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2007://1.51 2007-06-20T21:17:47Z 2007-06-20T21:38:06Z

I don't know how our Peasant Ancestors did it without air conditioning. It's 97 today, and even the dog (who's got a pretty swank life, to be sure) is refusing to go outside. OK, so he's a long-hair golden/something mix,...

PeasantDaughter The Wizard of Oz where she melts before our very eyes. "I'm melting...."]]> tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2007://1.50 2007-06-12T21:08:30Z 2007-06-12T21:37:16Z

On March 16, I wrote about a new Italian restaurant called Raddha, and how much Kimo and I really liked it. I ended that post/restaurant review with the following words: "I think I've finally found a restaurant Peasant Woman will...

PeasantDaughter She liked it. I'm not quite sure how to stress the gravity of those three words, especially for those of you who've not yet met My Mother The Original Peasant Woman. Let me just say that this is a good-cook/everything-made-from-scratch kind of woman who prefers her own cooking to most restaurants. Always looking for fresh flavors and the simple yet hardy fare that comprises the Peasant Reality--something that all those fusion restaurants just don't quite get. The shocking news is that The Original Peasant Woman loved Radda. Couldn't get enough. Wants to go back again and again so she can sample the latest, greatest dishes. So put that in your pipe and smoke it next time you're in the area, looking for a good place to stop and rest up over some prosciutto and Slovene wine. ]]> tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2007://1.49 2007-06-07T22:17:28Z 2007-06-12T21:08:16Z

You know you're pretty far-removed from your Peasant Lineage when you're thinking about taking your kid to a farm as a field trip. That's right. I'm almost embarrassed to say it, but we're taking Mali Zub, The Third Generation, to...

PeasantDaughter field trip. That's right. I'm almost embarrassed to say it, but we're taking Mali Zub, The Third Generation, to a strawberry-picking festival this weekend at a local farm that we, gasp, have absolutely no connection to. Well, that's not exactly right. It's a farm that we joined for the summer in order to get fresh fruits and vegetables. Community supported agriculture, for youse citified folks out there who are looking to do something similar. Pretty crazy, when you consider that a generation ago, my poor parents were out in similar fields, good days or bad, tending and harvesting the fields so they'd have something to eat. And here we are, white-collar workers who're too busy to even plant vegetable gardens in our backyards. (Well, we used to, but a rather large family of garter snakes seems to have taken over back there....) Makes you feel kind of guilty, doesn't it? And I'm not even a Catholic, I swear. Although I must have been one in a past life.]]> tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2007://1.48 2007-06-04T23:06:28Z 2007-06-07T22:17:04Z

Mali Zub's teething continues unabated. Man, this poor kid! Two new teeth last week and now he's got two more coming in -- no wonder he doesn't want to sleep. Although for the record, the chiropractor seems to be helping,...

PeasantDaughter Mali Zub's teething continues unabated. Man, this poor kid! Two new teeth last week and now he's got two more coming in -- no wonder he doesn't want to sleep. Although for the record, the chiropractor seems to be helping, even if we're no longer getting those stellar 8-hour stretches of sleep that we did at the beginning. Maybe next week? Or: Please, Dear God, maybe we can start sleeping again next week? I guess this is where we start a new hoodoo chant/seriously strategic prayer. The last time I did this, though, it was pretty hokey. Any other sleep-deprived parents out there who'd like to take a shot at it? tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2007://1.47 2007-05-29T23:47:44Z 2007-05-30T00:04:44Z

After two months of not sleeping, I hit rock bottom last week and hit up anyone I could find who'd made it through the kid-not-sleeping thing for advice. Some of the suggestions ranged from the 'ole suck-it-up-and-cry-it-out to craniosacral therapy...

PeasantDaughter After two months of not sleeping, I hit rock bottom last week and hit up anyone I could find who'd made it through the kid-not-sleeping thing for advice. Some of the suggestions ranged from the 'ole suck-it-up-and-cry-it-out to craniosacral therapy to rubbing brandy on Mali Zub's teeth to every homeopathic teething remedy in the book. So we started trying things. And tried some more. And then I finally gave in and brought my kid to the chiropractor after three different people on the same day told me that they swore by it. And lo-and-behold, the first day I brought Mali Zub home from the chiropractor, he slept an eight-hour stretch--something he hadn't done in months. So fingers crossed. The poor little bugger's got three new teeth coming in, and even though he's not the happiest kiddo on the block, he's still sleeping better than he was Before Chiropractor (B.C.). Never mind my poor peasant ancestors, who are turning over in their graves. Could you imagine such a thing in the old days? "Don't mind me, Grandma. I'm just going to take my 10-month-old baby to have his spine adjusted. Be right back to help you harvest that tobacco." tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2007://1.46 2007-05-22T20:44:32Z 2007-05-22T20:54:58Z

Your know your ethnic group's arrived when you hear a guy telling his kid to eat his dinner because there are starving kids in Bosnia. When I was a kid, we were told to eat our dinners because there were...

PeasantDaughter Your know your ethnic group's arrived when you hear a guy telling his kid to eat his dinner because there are starving kids in Bosnia. When I was a kid, we were told to eat our dinners because there were starving kids in Africa. Who knew that, so many years later, the phrase is still a good way of gauging the latest political hot spot: "Eat your dinner because there's a kid starving in (fill in the name of your ethnic group here)!" tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2007://1.45 2007-05-19T14:33:38Z 2007-05-19T14:45:28Z

Mali Zub's grandmother, the original Peasant Woman, is always bringing over gifts and things when she comes to visit the little pezoro. Yesterday, she had two new gifts for the little guy: a brightly-colored toy lion and a pear. Which...

PeasantDaughter pezoro. Yesterday, she had two new gifts for the little guy: a brightly-colored toy lion and a pear. Which one do you think he liked better? That's right, the pear. Which got me thinking about the benefits of being a Peasant Child. While most other kids out there are swimming in a sea of mechanical and stuffed toys, Peasant Children are out in fields, learning the joys of nature. Picking cherries in orchards, chasing chickens out of coops, shooing donkeys out of the road. But seriously. There's something nice about the simple beauty of a pear as a gift. And you should have seen Mali Zub eat it up! He loved it -- pears have always been one of his favorite foods. The plastic lion, meanwhile, has already been abandoned to the outskirts of toy land. Maybe the dog will take pity on him and adopt him. ]]> tag:www.peasantwoman.com,2007://1.44 2007-05-14T18:48:16Z 2007-05-14T19:04:38Z

Mali Zub finally started sleeping again these past two nights! Which means that Kimo and I have started sleeping again as well, and we no longer look like outcasts from a zombie flick, the walking dead. And that I'm finally...

PeasantDaughter Mali Zub finally started sleeping again these past two nights! Which means that Kimo and I have started sleeping again as well, and we no longer look like outcasts from a zombie flick, the walking dead. And that I'm finally able to start completing my sentences again (a task which seemed near-impossible this past week). Talk about a new lease on life! Someone told me that a new mother loses 1000 hours of sleep in the first year of her baby's life, and after these past two months, I believe it. You can only get by on little-to-no sleep for so long; this weekend, I actually found myself driving side roads instead of the main ones to lessen my chances of accidentally driving into oncoming traffic (not as hard as it sounds when you've been up three nights straight). So fingers crossed, knock on wood, whatever other superstitious you'd like to throw into the mix. I'm hope-hope-hoping that this amazing sleep stretch will continue, and that the little bugger won't revert back into his old routine (which is sleeping one or two nights, then staying up the next two weeks). Which means that I might even have enough brain cells left to get back to Peasant Life, and start putting in some decent posts again. I can dream, can't I?