#21. Spicy Nutmeg Carrots & #22. Carrot and Spinach Butter Mash

TWO DELICIOUS RECIPES!! And healthy, too--if you skimp on the butter just a tad. 

I happened to have a pound and a half of carrots leftover from the stupid "raw soup" recipe that called for a single carrot. Another of the carrots shriveled so badly that I had to compost it, so the clock was ticking to use up the rest. I decided to try two different carrot-based recipes and compare them. It was a bit of a toss up as to which is better! The Spicy Nutmeg Carrots was at least a B+ dish, but could have been an A- if I'd put it over cooked asparagus as the recipe suggested (I didn't have any asparagus). The Carrot and Spinach Butter Mash was an A- or an A, even though I used half the amount of butter called for in the recipe. 

I found the recipe for Spicy Nutmeg Carrots when I was reaching for the my McCormick-brand nutmeg one day and saw this recipe printed on the side of the tiny jar:

"Mix 2 tbsp. butter, melted, 1/4 tsp. each Ground Nutmeg and Garlic Salt, and 1/8 tsp. Ground Red Pepper. Toss with 1 package (16 oz.) baby carrots, cooked. Or serve over cooked asparagus and other vegetables."

Ah! I just noticed it says carrots or other vegetables. Anyway, I only used a little less than 3/4 pound of carrots, chopped into baby carrot-sized sticks, but even if I'd used the full amount, I think there would have been too much butter--it pooled in the bottom of the bowl. I didn't have any ground red pepper, so I just crushed some McCormick-brand Red Pepper Flakes in between the unglazed bottoms of two mini-souffle dishes. The carrots turned out mildly hot and very flavorful. Also pretty:

The Carrot and Spinach Butter Mash recipe comes from my Williams Sonoma Easy Vegetarian book (which is proving to be remarkably reliable so far). It called for a pound of carrots and 6 tablespoons of butter. I used just under 3/4 pound of carrots and 3 tablespoons of butter, which proved to be just the right ratio. Also, I used about half as much baby spinach (the book called for 8 oz.).

I'll just describe the recipe. Cook the carrots in "lightly salted" water until tender. Then drain the water out of the pot and set the pot back on the burner for the excess moisture to steam off. Then mash the carrots with the butter and salt and pepper, and mix in the spinach while the carrots are still warm so that the spinach wilts slightly. This recipe also turned out kind of pretty:

If that looks "too healthy" to you... trust me. I am, admittedly, a big fan of baby spinach, which added an interesting texture to the mashed carrots, and also a fan of nutmeg, which I consider underrated. But I can hardly stand carrots. The fact that I not only enjoyed both of these recipes, but actually consumed all of the food in one sitting (a pound and a half of carrots!!) should tell you how good they are. Plus, they were quick and easy to make and didn't leave a big mess.

A- for both

A Self-Analytical Moment: Other People and the Weather

From now on I'm going to start treating other people like the weather. How come I haven't been doing this all my life?

Some days there are severe thunderstorms. Do I turn inward and wonder why the sky hates me, what I've done to make it so senselessly cruel to me? No, because I understand that the weather results from a combination of atmospheric events far beyond my control. So why, when a person is being irrationally cruel to me, do I take it upon myself to wonder what I could have done to make them be kind to me instead? When there's a severe storm, I keep tabs on the radar just so I'll know if I need to prepare for a tornado, but otherwise, I try to ignore it and get on with my day or night. I distract myself with pleasant things. I would like to do this when faced with irrationally cruel people as well.

I'm a bit of a shut-in. (That might be a bit of an understatement. (So was that.)) Why do I shut out everyone but my immediate family just because a few dozen people have been mean to me? I skip my walk some days if it's too cold or if the wind is unusually hot and dusty, but then when the weather is fine again, I go out once more and enjoy it. Why haven't I been able to do this with people? Why did I assume that if forty-nine people in a row were horrible, the fiftieth must be horrible too? The fiftieth person could have been 68 degrees Fahrenheit and partly cloudy with breezes from the south at 15 mph. I would like to be ready for those people when they arrive in my life, rather than assuming they don't exist.

Often, an individual will have all sorts of weather in his personality, frosty one day, balmy the next. I would like to learn to accept people who are changeable instead of writing them off on their bad days and then not being around to experience their good ones. Is there some way to "carry a light jacket" into social situations? I would like to practice being prepared for unpleasant interactions with otherwise pleasant people.

These are things I would like to try.

The Puppies Are 13 Weeks Old! (As of Yesterday, and Three Months Old As of the Day Before!)

The puppies have gone through some big changes in the last two weeks. First of all, after four months of having a "found dog" in her house, my roommate put her foot down and insisted Ginger go home with my mom (her legal owner). My roommate has always loved having the puppies around (except when they are the least bit inconvenient), but she could never stand their mom. The puppies are old enough now (8 to 12 weeks is usually when puppies are separated from their mothers), so after the puppies' third vet visit (a week and a half ago), I packed up Ginger's stuff (she has a LOT of stuff for someone who only weighs ten pounds!) and sent her off with my mom. 

That day I also set up three little crates to start crate training. My mom went to a PTA book sale and got me a used book about how to raise a puppy (a puppy... more on that), and apparently it was the worst idea ever to ever ever let the babies use training pads... although the book only begins when you "pick your puppy up at the breeder." I picked my puppies up hot and fresh out of their mama's tummy, so there wasn't really any making them go outside when they couldn't even poo or pee without their mother licking their tummies to get them started, and even once they were able to walk, it was winter, and I couldn't in good conscience even take them outside, much less make them stay outside several times a day until they had done their business. So I decided to start fresh with the crates, and only let them play in the kitchen so that they couldn't so easily backslide into pottying in the house. So far, there's still an accident or two per day, or up to three or four if you count crate wetting, even though we go out for nearly a dozen potty breaks, some of them quite long (weather permitting) every day.

What else? Training. The book has lots of "helpful," self-contradicting advice about training a single puppy. A lot of the rules and procedures don't work at ALL if you have more than one puppy, so I'm doing the best I can. One puppy would be enough to wear me out physically, but three leave me beyond exhausted. I'm still trying to get them to stick to their crate-training schedule so that I can leave them in the crates more confidently. I went to a rather draconian public school where bathroom access was limited, so whenever I think a puppy is crying to go outside, it tears my heart into pieces. Unfortunately, when I cave, 4 out of 5 times the puppy doesn't have to "go" at all, and just whines to go back inside. Then, the fifth time, when they do wet the bed, I feel just awful.

I feel awful a lot regarding the puppies. I used to worry constantly that they would get hurt or just waste away and die... now that I have the book, it's more a sense that I've done everything wrong. I was finding myself falling back on the way I was raised to guide me, and according to the book, that way is very, very wrong. Plus, when my family visits, they are often inconsistent with the puppies and critical of whatever I'm doing with them (although that applies to everything in my life, not just the puppies). Oh well. I've been trying hard to see the puppies as an enriching challenge that came into my life as a result of my adherence to my values, not as proof of the truism that no good deed goes unpunished. They are lovely, beautiful creatures, and in those moments when everything is running smoothly, I watch them playing or eating or sleeping and feel very, very lucky after all.

Now for the pictures! (These photos begin after their 11-week birthday and end this morning):

No more playing in my room now! What fun they used to have with the simplest things, and all that space to run around:

And space to fight! Though they often did it right in my lap:

Here's Ginger intervening, right before I intervened. (It looks bad, but Ginger is only mouthing his face, not biting it, and Joey (Spot) probably deserved it. He has a nasty habit of biting faces very, very hard, including human faces. I didn't know if having his mom around to scold him was helping the problem or making it worse, but now that she's out of the house, I'm trying to deal with Spot in the most loving and patient way possible):

In these pictures, Ginger and the boys can hear my sister in the living room, training Lizzie to sit. (They want the treats they know she's getting!):

Lizzie sits!:

My sister gently reprimanding Joey for trying to bite Max while he is on her lap:

And reprimanding Max for trying to exact undue vengeance:

We think Max kind of looks like a cat sometimes:

Here's Lizzie, looking like an alien again (the world's cutest alien!):

And gnawing on the furniture (the book says I'm supposed to distract her with a chew toy instead of reprimanding her, which kind of works... until the puppy gets tired of the chew toy again. And there are only so many things on the market that are really safe!):

This was Spot's "spot" in my room... no more! (The carpet in there is ruined (it was cheap and old, and my landlord/roommate actually offered to change it before I moved in a year and a half ago, but I asked to wait a while, thank goodness). The puppies aren't allowed to play in there anymore because they will smell it and remember that they used to use it as their potty. And once I get new carpet, I won't want to take the chance!):

The crush at the door. (I finally got a nice baby gate, but used it for only a few days before this wasn't the way things are done anymore! I'm always having to adapt to keep up with the puppies, and I'm always a few steps behind!):

For a few days Joey was having problems getting picked on, getting his ears chewed (they seem much better now, and the vet saw nothing wrong with them), so I let him sleep alone in the compost bin (it is now their outdoor playpen, but when this photo was taken, it was still in my room):

While Joey slept in the big bed, his siblings slept in Ginger's crate (which went with Ginger, which was partly why we needed the new little crates):

Here they are trying out their crates for the very first time:

The puppies were a bit confused at first, but took to having their own little dens very quickly:

The only sign I had of the puppies missing their mom was a grand battle one evening over a bloody spot (from their birth) in the box they were born in. Each puppy wanted to lick and chew the spot, and they fought viciously for it. (I finally had to take the box away.): 

Joey finally took an interest in the water jug that I've had in the puppies' play area for six weeks. He pushed it all the way across the room with his nose, but got bored when it stopped at the heater:

Not only is Lizzie sitting prettily in this picture, but Joey looks like he's playing a fife:

For the first few days of crate training, I let them spend the night with the doors open to their playpen (which was really just a large, glorified potty area):

They loved playing under the rail of my table/shelf:

But also loved to lick and chew the table legs:

This is how I want to remember the days of playing in my room:

So idyllic:

A little putto (who bites):

(Putti are the baby angels in Renaissance paintings. (They are not Cherubim.) And I don't mean the similar Spanish word with one T.)

Winding down:

I have a whole series like this where they're looking every which way. This was the cutest:

Look at Max's amazing ears!:

Tug-of-war (the flower pots in the background are covering more places where they tore up and ate the carpet):

This is the picture I've tried so many times to take of their tug-of-war playing. (I couldn't even get a good video because they move in and out of the frame so fast.):

In their crates in the kitchen, ready for nap time. (Spot's already asleep!):

Sweet, sweet nap time. When I can do other things. Like write blog entries. Or do laundry. Or eat:

Max is so excited to have his picture taken that I can't get him in the frame:

That's better:

Itchy!:

I accidentally had the zoom on. I think this is cool looking:

Chewing on bark. I can't let them run loose in the yard anymore because they are constantly picking stuff up (and there are three of them!):

Taking a sharp "gum ball" away from Spot. (They fall from a tree and land all over the yard, and the rake misses them.):

(I'm not hitting Spot with the umbrella handle... it's just hanging down from my shoulder in front of him.)

I moved the compost bin (4' X 4') outside so that the puppies could do their potties without running all around, eating dangerous things, getting lost in the bushes, slipping out the gate, goodness knows what:

I wish the bin was bigger. The puppies miss being able to run around, and I won't be able to run/walk them in the neighborhood until they've finished their third round of Parvo vaccinations in a couple of weeks:

Digging and eating grass is their new pastime. Safer than eating carpet, I guess:

(I promised my landlord/roommate that I'd move the bin a little every day, and the puppies would eventually aerate the entire lawn. She likes this idea.)

Lizzie wants to be picked up ALL THE TIME. Just like her mom:

Then she wants down again:

Spot loves to play tug-of-war. (I'm thinking we should call him Spot again.):

I try to read the puppy book while I'm with the puppies (since I want to do non-puppy-related stuff when I'm not with them), but I usually have enough to do, ferrying them in and out and getting their food and water and scooping up their poo so they don't hop up and down in it (this happens a lot, often as I'm trying to clean it up), and, of course, playing with them:

I'm doing collar and leash training by the book, but it's going slowly. You're supposed to use a toy to distract them from scratching the collar or chewing the leash, but no matter how interesting the toy or tasty the treat, they scratch and chew at everything eventually:

Spot gives me these creepy sidelong looks sometimes. I don't know if this means anything, or if that's just the way his eyes are:

Where's Spot?:

There's Spot!:

(He had been splashing in the water bowl again and wouldn't hold still to be dried off, so I think he was just drying off in his bed towel. He's a big splasher and a big digger.):

Lizzie giving my thumb a taste:

And a lil' bite:

(The book says that if puppies bite while you're holding them, you're supposed to put them down immediately and stand in front of them with your back turned for ten full minutes. But this contradicts the book's rule that you cannot leave the puppy out of its crate unsupervised in case it potties or chews something and you have to issue a stern "No!" and carry the puppy out immediately. And you can't put the puppy in the crate when it bites you because the book forbids you to use the crate as punishment since it is supposed to be the dog's own safe haven. And with three puppies, everything goes out the window! I just try to use multiple puppies to my advantage by always shifting my attention (which is a big commodity as far as the puppies are concerned) to whomever is behaving best. In this next case it was Spot...

Spot and I, giving the camera some attitude:

(His bottom is supported on my hip, but he still feels uncomfortable that way, hence the face. Since seeing this picture, I've made a better effort to support him fully while carrying him. Hopefully he'll trust me more, and I'll be able to make more headway with the biting issue.)

Here the puppies have the "canopy" over their playpen. I clothespinned a fitted sheet over the top which affords quite a bit of shade, but of course, they prefer to play in the sun. They have little pink tummies though, so I sit in a chair facing the bin with an umbrella over my shoulder to keep them shaded:

(The canopy also helps with my neverending terror that the puppies could be eaten by hawks. Now and then I'll see one on the property (though not since the babies started playing outside). I've seen hawks take squirrels and rabbits that aren't much smaller than the puppies, who all weigh between four and five pounds each.)

In the kitchen playpen. Lizzie wants attention:

PLEASE!!:

(My twitter friend Denise (@dentednj) told me early on that Lizzie looks like a potato. I think she gets potatoier and potatoier every day. I call her my Sweet Potato, or Potato Princess, as if she's a pageant winner in a small town in Idaho.)

The book says you should teach your puppies to sit for attention. I've been teaching them to sit, and I've been practicing giving the most attention to whomever is closest to sitting. At one point, just using kibble for treats, I got them to sit on their bottoms with their arms up when they want to be picked up, but I have to move them from bin to bin to crate so many times per day that I can't always do the whole rigamarole to get them there. So in this photo, they are all competing for pets by simply standing still. Maxwell is impatient though, and has begun chewing the gate:

When I bend over, the puppies often forget their training and jump up anyway, as is natural for puppies (and so cute that I almost hate to train them out of it!):

Lizzie often makes eye contact with me and whines. I think it's a result of all those times early on when I would pick her up whenever the boys were being too rough and she just wanted to sleep on my lap:

You should hear the sound that goes along with this face:

I've put lots of pictures on my blog, yet there are still so many good things that I've been unable to capture on camera (and so many videos I wish I could have made, too!). This morning, for example, I turned on the TV to see if it was going to rain, and there was an episode of "I Love Lucy." The puppies all immediately turned to the TV and sat in a row and watched attentively! But when I left the room and came back with my camera, they got so excited they forgot about the TV. Here, Lizzie has moved on, while Spot watches over his shoulder, and only Max still seems interested.

With my low self-esteem, I often find myself thinking, "Gosh, I can barely manage _____ [in this case, taking care of the puppies], and I don't even have a job!!" But this the time, the puppy book is on my side: in the crate-training chapter, the author harangues the working puppy parent, saying that he or she had better get a friend or neighbor--or even hire someone--to come and let their puppy out during the day. And you had better give them plenty of attention! I give them all I've got. Taking care of these puppies requires an unexpectedly huge amount of physical, mental, and even emotional effort, and even though I can't fit in as much training as I'd like to, by the end of each day, I feel like I've moved a mountain. Sometimes by lunchtime!!

And with scheduled naps and playtimes, I'm forced to plan my days in advance and use my time more wisely. If I let them, these puppies can help me lead a better life, rather than just being a giant neon sign proclaiming that I don't have one. And good grief!! If I don't just allow myself to relax and enjoy these puppies, when will I ever relax and enjoy anything?!