Things are looking a little bit better in the pissed-off pregnant woman department. Feeling a wee bit healthier at the moment (fingers firmly crossed) and so I decided to make attempt #2 on the Orangine Jelly project. Official result of attempt #2: failure. I think I may have failed to distribute either the pectin or the added citrus juice properly or something. There are clumps of jelly-like material floating throughout - kind of like those warm springs on the Jersey Shore when that plankten-gel stuff floats about in the water. Gross. Bad to swim in, worse to eat.

Attempt #3 will likely happen this weekend. I'm not sure how I'm going to approach the problem, but my mom is here for the week so I'll run it by her. I'm starting to wonder if the carbonation is somehow interfering. I'm going to look up more of those beer jelly recipes I saw and see if inspiration doesn't strike. Several years ago (like, ten) my mom was canning peaches and had leftover peach flavored syrup that was pretty thin. We got an idea to cook it down to thicken it and then can the result so we could have nice peach syrup for pancakes and cakes and whatever. Didn't work. The syrup never cooked down and certainly never got thicker. We figured it was the MSG-type stuff she used to preserve the color of the peaches that were the original source of the syrup in the first place. It was disappointing to be sure, but we both felt like we had discovered something important - even if to this day we can't really articulate what it was: "Remember that peach syrup."

"Yeah. Weird that it didn't thicken."

"Sure was. Must have been the fruit fresh, don't you think."

"That's the only thing I can think of."

"Weird."

We have this conversation, seriously, like twice a year. We'll never tire of that story - this is the stuff of which memories are made and familial bonds are tied.

Mom is here this week to do the "$500 Decorating Challenge." I was bitching and moaning about how much I hate our new house and she said she'd come "do it up" for us. We set a budget of $500 for which she said she could do the living room and dining room. Not buy new furniture, mind you, but do that Use What You Have magic and then buy some key accessories that would make our hellish, nature-assaualted house a home. Last night she tried to sell me on velvet chair covers. As a woman with a toddler and a baby on the way, I did not have to think hard to see that this was a bad idea.

Mom's been an empty-nester for a while now and she's struggling with her cream carpets and taupe furniture and the onslaught on grandchildren. Maybe a week with my darling, but messy, boy will help reorient the project. The boy brought me worms as a present on Sunday ("Mommy, I picked flowers and worms for you!") so velvet anything is out of the question.