Vegan mashed potatoes

I'm not vegan, but I have a lot of vegan friends.

Since I was going to a potluck where I knew at least a few of them would be around, I made my vegan mashed potatoes.

Mashed potatoes are surprisingly easy, and I've been making them a lot lately. Everyone likes them, at least a little.

Here's my recipe:

Organic potatoes -- I use these because I keep the skins on -- cut in small pieces
Water

Boil together until potatoes are soft -- about 10 minutes at a rolling bowl.

Drain, with a large measuring cup underneath the colander to catch the water.
Put potatoes back in the pot. Keep the stove on, so some of the leftover water boils off.
Turn off stove and beat with beaters. (Sometimes, for the heck of it, I'll use a potato masher.)
Gradually add some of the potato water and beat, until potatoes are of desired consistency. (In my case, that varies with my mood.) Beat in a generous amount of salt as well.

I'll often add garlic to these. For potatoes, I use the tubed garlic paste I got on clearance. When that runs out (which will be a while, as I bought a bunch), I will have to roast the garlic first.

Mashed potatoes don't take nearly as long as it seems, even from scratch. (And I can eat them!)

Calzone: I also made calzone again, which I can't eat. I did it so my little guy could have one he liked. I made one for the rest of the family, with a generous amount of jalapenos; then, he had his own small one, with just olives.

Some people say "I won't be a short-order cook." I will. I want the kids to eat well and to like what I cook -- and what they like does change. I'm very much OK with making different meals -- or making a main meal and having some side dishes that the younger one appreciates. There was a time when it was only my husband and me who liked lasagna -- now I'm the only one who won't eat it.

My new favorite drink

I've been in a real green tea phase for about the last three years. I would get actual cravings for it. I often had a pitcher of iced green tea ready to go.

While I can stomach it right now, it's not something that really appeals to me.

What I'm getting cravings for right now is "fuzzy water," a.k.a. sparkling mineral water. We often call it fuzzy water in my house because one of the kids' longtime friends christened it that when he was tiny. It's sort of like how we sometimes call hot chocolate, "chocolate tea," because my eldest daughter called it that when she was a wee one.

Anyway, the fizz seems to help my stomach, which is only about 100 times better -- but still not 100 percent.

Starting to show, I guess

Paul asked me the other day, "Can most people tell you're pregnant now?"

I told him that women who knew me already probably can. But strangers can't, necessarily. Many men are going to have more trouble as well.

I ran into one of my guy friends -- the ex of a friend, whom I have stayed in contact with -- and he eyed my belly at the grocery store, "Hey, Kathleen! I thought you were trying to lose weight!"

He was just messing with me, as he knows I'm pregnant. I told him that I'll be losing a lot of weight in five months.


Hospital dream
I had a baby nightmare yesterday, which I suspect is more of a "fear of hospitals" nightmare. In it, because of hospital rules, I had to keep the baby in a little rolling crib as we were leaving to go home. There was also a hospital employee who was "helping" me, and the rolling crib kept nearly falling over because of his carelessness. Then, while we were waiting for Paul, the hospital employee was driving me and the baby in my van -- completely crazily, almost running stoplights and coming close to hitting trains.

My interpretation: I don't really worry much about the actual childbirth. I'm not scared of the pain of labor and birth, which I've never had any trouble coping with. I worry more about being "managed" during labor and afterwards -- particularly by people who are focused on their institutional rules, rules that don't necessarily correspond with the reality of birth and breastfeeding. I'm sure this worry is exaggerated because I've recently been helping a mother who is delivering at the same hospital
where I will, and they've been giving her absolutely horrendous breastfeeding advice.

I don't usually remember many dreams because I usually sleep rather soundly. But during pregnancy, it's pretty common to remember more of them.

Stone fruit season

I got some lovely peaches the other day. So, of course, they got my smoothie treatment.

With a fresh peach, some cinnamon is nice.

Dentist

My gums are going, with this pregnancy. After years of getting chewed out every time I went to the dentist, I had finally straightened out my gums. My fancy electric toothbrush and regular flossing kept everything in great shape. Now, with the hormones of pregnancy, I'm in trouble again. At least they don't berate me at the dentist anymore -- because there's not a whole lot more I can do. The dentist told me not to drink acidic juice -- no problem, of course.

The things we argue about

Baseball always gets Paul and me in little debates. We agree on most things, even though I have a certain fondness for the designated hitter. (I know, I know -- but I don't remember when it didn't exist.) I like the Wild Card as well, even though I didn't think I would. I do not support further playoff expansion, so I can get my purist card back.

But then all these other little issues come up.

Early this morning, we got into it over what would happen if a certain two ballplayers on the Chicago White Sox got into a fight. I think it's funny how men think about things like that. And how I'm willing to spend time on the discussion.

Later, Paul was complaining about "soul patches" on baseball players. Of course, he doesn't know what they're called. He called them that "little piece of hair right under here." I told him I thought they were rather cute on the right guy (I'm not suggesting he get one). They just don't seem masculine to Paul, who has pretty rigid ideas on that subject.