Thursday, September 22, 2011

Hot Stuff

Roasted Hatch Chiles, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways: I love thee salsa'd and I love thee relleno'd; I love thee in my egg scrambles, slipped into a bowl of soup and in a pot of bold chili. But mostly, Roasted Hatch Chiles, I adore thy mouthwatering aroma permeating the town from the chile tumbler over the fire. Makes me want to run home and cook. Sometimes. If I'm really hungry.

I actually did that last Saturday and the result was a big batch of Green Chile Chili. I bought mild peppers to get the girls to love the flavour before hitting them with too much heat, but either I've lost my asbestos mouth, or these weren't mild. I loved it, but Nick, Cayenne and Acacia went through nearly a gallon of milk "enjoying" it. They each polished off a bowl of the smokey yumminess, but the steam coming from their ears tells me perhaps I should add some broth when it comes to thawing the left-overs...

The smell of chiles roasting is a sure sign that autumn will be here soon. Ever notice how the harbingers of fall are all beautiful messengers? It reveals Mother Nature's sense of humour, like sending an alluringly glamourous woman to deliver a military draft card.

I never thought I'd live somewhere with all four seasons; namely, one that included wet snowpants and muddy boots and mismatched gloves and missing hats. All the clothing! It drives me mad. Luckily it's still eighty degrees and sunny outside, and we're planning a weekend backpack-camping-14er climb. Acacia has agreed to wake up on her ninth birthday in a tent in the mountains. It cost me a trip to PayLess (shoe store) but it's worth it! She's a tough negotiator.

Last weekend the girls ran a mile in the River Run for Orphans. The ten dollar entry fee went into a fund for orphanages around the world. The girls agreed to pay half the fee from their own money, which they've been earning by sticking address labels onto postcards for my boss. I was at the Farmer's Market an hour before the race when The Negotiator phoned me to ask, "So how about I give you the five dollars and don't run? The orphans won't care."

She had a point, but I wanted her to see how many people were participating, that this was a big deal, and that she was part of something communally good. One of the unexpected bonuses for her were the jumping castles and party atmosphere she got enjoy after the race. During the small run she declared, "Don't you realise you can be arrested?"

"For what?"

"Torturing your children."

"Not that again! Lame-o. You need to come up with something new and fresh."

The other unexpected bonus for me was that jumping in the castle with Cayenne and Acacia were the younger brother and sister of one of the girls' friends - two gorgeous little kids who happen to be former orphans from Rwanda.

Acacia and I watched the kids laughing and bouncing, their spirits light as air, and I squeezed her hand to say, "That is why we run these 'silly' races."

Replenishing fluids after the torturous ten minute run. 
(Actually, Cayenne said she'd like to run a 5k next, so there's hope!)