Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Worth Saving: Christmas Day
This Christmas, Lynn had the great idea to serve prime rib (2 pork and 2 beef--there was plenty left over.) Our sides were ranch potatoes, gratin of cauliflower, green bean casserole and spinach salad.
A decision was also made to discontinue the sibling gift exchange (unless we hear feedback :)) and try a gift exchange that includes everyone who brings a gift. We did a trial exchange this year, using Mr and Mrs Wright.
Nigella Lawson's Poinsettia Punch
Makes: 5 2/3 cups (1.4 L) for 8 to 9 glasses
(for approximately 16 drinkers we used 3 batches of ingredients in bold)
Ingredients
(2 bottles of Cava) 750-mL bottle Prosecco or other fizzy dry wine, chilled
(1 cup of Triple Sec) 1/2 cup (125 mL) Cointreau, Grand Marnier or Triple Sec, chilled
(4 cups of cranberry juice) 2 cups (500 mL) cranberry juice, chilled
Instructions
Mix the Prosecco or other fizzy wine with the Cointreau (or Grand Marnier or Triple Sec) and cranberry juice in a large pitcher.
Pour into wineglasses or champagne flutes.
Spinach Salad with Bosc Pears, Cranberries, Red Onion, and Toasted Hazelnuts Epicurious
November 2009
by Diane Morgan
The New Thanksgiving Table
This spinach salad speaks to all the wonderful autumnal flavors of the Pacific Northwest. The new crop of bronzed Bosc pears is piled high at the farmers' market; the hazelnuts have been harvested, shelled, and bagged for sale; and the cranberries arrive from the Long Beach, Washington, coastal bogs. I buy sweetened dried cranberries from a local producer, but they are readily available at the grocery store (Ocean Spray is a good-quality packager), found alongside raisins and other dried fruits. This salad is a snap to assemble if you buy the packaged prewashed and trimmed baby spinach.
Yield: Serves 8
Dressing ( Sara tweaked this. Lemon juice is all I can remember)
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
2 teaspoons whole-grain mustard
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon kosher or sea salt
Freshly ground pepper
1 cup thinly sliced red onion
1/3 cup sweetened dried cranberries
8 cups lightly packed fresh baby spinach leaves, stemmed if needed (or big container from Costco)
2 firm but ripe Bosc pears (do not peel), quartered lengthwise, cored, and cut into long, thin slices
2/3 cup hazelnuts, toasted (see Cook's Notes) and chopped
To make the dressing, in a small jar with a tight-fitting lid, combine the olive oil, vinegar, mustard, sugar, salt, and pepper to taste. Cover tightly and shake vigorously to blend. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Set aside.
Place the onions in a medium bowl and cover with cold water. Let stand for 30 minutes. This crisps the onion and takes away the raw onion taste. Drain well and pat dry on paper towels.
In a small bowl, toss the cranberries with 2 tablespoons of the dressing to soften them. Set aside for at least 20 minutes or until ready to serve the salad.
To assemble the salad, place the spinach, onions, and pears in a large bowl. Give the remaining dressing a last-minute shake and pour over the salad. Toss to coat evenly. Arrange the salad in a large serving bowl or divide it evenly among 8 salad plates. Scatter the cranberries and hazelnuts over the top(s). Serve immediately.
Cook's Notes
(use boiling water/baking water method to remove hazelnut skins)
Try to buy shelled hazelnuts (also called filberts) with the brown, papery skins removed as well. To toast, spread the hazelnuts in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet and place in a preheated 375°F oven. Toast for about 12 minutes until lightly browned. If the nuts still have the skins on, transfer them while they’re hot to a clean kitchen towel. (Use a clean towel that is old or you don’t mind washing with bleach, because the skins tend to discolor the fabric.) Rub the nuts to remove most of the skins (they never come completely off).
You can substitute unsalted cashews for the hazelnuts. Toast cashews, as directed above for hazelnuts, for 8 to 10 minutes until lightly browned.
Do Ahead
(add cranberries and sliced onion when making dressing ahead)
The dressing can be made up to 1 day in advance, covered tightly, and refrigerated. Remove from the refrigerator 2 hours before serving. The nuts can be toasted up to 1 day in advance; store at room temperature in an airtight container. The onions and cranberries can be prepared up to up to 4 hours in advance. Set aside at room temperature.
Saturday, December 22, 2012
In the Shower with the NRA
After listening to Wayne LaPierre off and on throughout 12/21/12, I first struggled with my idealist belief that an organization that has (like so many other groups and organizations over the past 12 years) isolated itself from public opinion and discourse, might come out with a speech that would rock our world--in a good way. Sadly, they responded (after an entire week to contemplate) exactly the way realists predicted.
I come from a long line of hunters and gatherers, and for the most part, this heritage has ended--with the exception of one nephew. But the memories of my parents, aunts, uncles, cousins and their friends, planning their hunting trips and then gathering together around one of their dining room tables to carefully cut and package what would help feed each family, are still fresh in my brain. As well as the deer leather gloves each family hunter received from the donation of hides and the collection of rifles kept under lock and key in our home (though hardly secure in that beautiful, glass front cabinet). Why do I tell you this? To add necessary shading to the illustration of my point of view.
And now I come to my second thought (which came to me in the usual place--the shower). Perhaps it's finally time for the rest of us to foster the creation of a new organization, peeling away the layers of a group that once claimed to promote gun education and rights. The need for gun safety and education is at an all time high and so is the need to eliminate the NRA's promotion of fear of our fellow human beings and over losing gun rights. (Have gun rights ever truly been threatened?) Possible name: "Responsible Gun Owners of America"?
Those who seek change, could use social media to broadcast and promote this idea. I believe it's time. What say you?
Opinion piece from Michael Bloomberg
Opinion by Tom Watson on Forbes
I come from a long line of hunters and gatherers, and for the most part, this heritage has ended--with the exception of one nephew. But the memories of my parents, aunts, uncles, cousins and their friends, planning their hunting trips and then gathering together around one of their dining room tables to carefully cut and package what would help feed each family, are still fresh in my brain. As well as the deer leather gloves each family hunter received from the donation of hides and the collection of rifles kept under lock and key in our home (though hardly secure in that beautiful, glass front cabinet). Why do I tell you this? To add necessary shading to the illustration of my point of view.
And now I come to my second thought (which came to me in the usual place--the shower). Perhaps it's finally time for the rest of us to foster the creation of a new organization, peeling away the layers of a group that once claimed to promote gun education and rights. The need for gun safety and education is at an all time high and so is the need to eliminate the NRA's promotion of fear of our fellow human beings and over losing gun rights. (Have gun rights ever truly been threatened?) Possible name: "Responsible Gun Owners of America"?
Those who seek change, could use social media to broadcast and promote this idea. I believe it's time. What say you?
Opinion piece from Michael Bloomberg
Opinion by Tom Watson on Forbes
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Operator, information . . .
Not sure if I should feel comforted or slightly freaked out. In the wee, dark hours of the night, I thought I heard a phone ring. I lay in bed and waited for another ring or for Fran to come into the bedroom and tell me someone was on the phone. Of course, my first thought was concern that maybe something had happened to my dad. And it's during this recounting that I realize I must've been asleep. Why else would I have stayed in bed and not checked my phone?
When I woke up in the morning, the feeling someone needed me or needed to get in touch with me was still strong. I emailed my sisters after checking for messages and missed calls. They both told me all was fine, but my oldest sister reminded me that last night was the anniversary of when my Mom has passed away in her sleep.
When I woke up in the morning, the feeling someone needed me or needed to get in touch with me was still strong. I emailed my sisters after checking for messages and missed calls. They both told me all was fine, but my oldest sister reminded me that last night was the anniversary of when my Mom has passed away in her sleep.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
President Obama speaks at Newtown Memorial
from The New York Times:
"To all the families, first responders, to the community of Newtown, clergy, guests, scripture tells us, “Do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, inwardly, we are being renewed day by day.
For light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all, so we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven not built by human hands.
We gather here in memory of 20 beautiful children and six remarkable adults. They lost their lives in a school that could have been any school in a quiet town full of good and decent people that could be any town in America.
Here in Newtown, I come to offer the love and prayers of a nation. I am very mindful that mere words cannot match the depths of your sorrow, nor can they heal your wounded hearts.
I can only hope it helps for you to know that you’re not alone in your grief, that our world, too, has been torn apart, that all across this land of ours, we have wept with you. We’ve pulled our children tight.
And you must know that whatever measure of comfort we can provide, we will provide. Whatever portion of sadness that we can share with you to ease this heavy load, we will gladly bear it. Newtown, you are not alone.
As these difficult days have unfolded, you’ve also inspired us with stories of strength and resolve and sacrifice. We know that when danger arrived in the halls of Sandy Hook Elementary, the school’s staff did not flinch.
They did not hesitate.
Dawn Hochsprung and Mary Sherlach, Vicki Soto, Lauren Rousseau, Rachel Davino and Anne Marie Murphy — they responded as we all hope we might respond in such terrifying circumstances, with courage and with love, giving their lives to protect the children in their care.
We know that there were other teachers who barricaded themselves inside classrooms and kept steady through it all and reassured their students by saying, “Wait for the good guys, they are coming. Show me your smile.”
And we know that good guys came, the first responders who raced to the scene helping to guide those in harm’s way to safety and comfort those in need, holding at bay their own shock and their own trauma, because they had a job to do and others needed them more.
And then there were the scenes of the schoolchildren helping one another, holding each other, dutifully following instructions in the way that young children sometimes do, one child even trying to encourage a grown-up by saying, “I know karate, so it’s OK; I’ll lead the way out.”
As a community, you’ve inspired us, Newtown. In the face of indescribable violence, in the face of unconscionable evil, you’ve looked out for each other. You’ve cared for one another. And you’ve loved one another. This is how Newtown will be remembered, and with time and God’s grace, that love will see you through.
But we as a nation, we are left with some hard questions. You know, someone once described the joy and anxiety of parenthood as the equivalent of having your heart outside of your body all the time, walking around.
With their very first cry, this most precious, vital part of ourselves, our child, is suddenly exposed to the world, to possible mishap or malice, and every parent knows there’s nothing we will not do to shield our children from harm. And yet we also know that with that child’s very first step and each step after that, they are separating from us, that we won’t — that we can’t always be there for them.
They will suffer sickness and setbacks and broken hearts and disappointments, and we learn that our most important job is to give them what they need to become self-reliant and capable and resilient, ready to face the world without fear. And we know we can’t do this by ourselves.
It comes as a shock at a certain point where you realize no matter how much you love these kids, you can’t do it by yourself, that this job of keeping our children safe and teaching them well is something we can only do together, with the help of friends and neighbors, the help of a community and the help of a nation.
And in that way we come to realize that we bear responsibility for every child, because we’re counting on everybody else to help look after ours, that we’re all parents, that they are all our children.
This is our first task, caring for our children. It’s our first job. If we don’t get that right, we don’t get anything right. That’s how, as a society, we will be judged.
And by that measure, can we truly say, as a nation, that we’re meeting our obligations?
Can we honestly say that we’re doing enough to keep our children, all of them, safe from harm?
Can we claim, as a nation, that we’re all together there, letting them know they are loved and teaching them to love in return?
Can we say that we’re truly doing enough to give all the children of this country the chance they deserve to live out their lives in happiness and with purpose?
I’ve been reflecting on this the last few days, and if we’re honest with ourselves, the answer’s no. We’re not doing enough. And we will have to change.
Since I’ve been president, this is the fourth time we have come together to comfort a grieving community torn apart by mass shootings, fourth time we’ve hugged survivors, the fourth time we’ve consoled the families of victims.
And in between, there have been an endless series of deadly shootings across the country, almost daily reports of victims, many of them children, in small towns and in big cities all across America, victims whose — much of the time their only fault was being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
We can’t tolerate this anymore. These tragedies must end. And to end them, we must change.
We will be told that the causes of such violence are complex, and that is true. No single law, no set of laws can eliminate evil from the world or prevent every senseless act of violence in our society, but that can’t be an excuse for inaction. Surely we can do better than this.
If there’s even one step we can take to save another child or another parent or another town from the grief that’s visited Tucson and Aurora and Oak Creek and Newtown and communities from Columbine to Blacksburg before that, then surely we have an obligation to try.
In the coming weeks, I’ll use whatever power this office holds to engage my fellow citizens, from law enforcement, to mental health professionals, to parents and educators, in an effort aimed at preventing more tragedies like this, because what choice do we have? We can’t accept events like this as routine.
Are we really prepared to say that we’re powerless in the face of such carnage, that the politics are too hard?
Are we prepared to say that such violence visited on our children year after year after year is somehow the price of our freedom?
You know, all the world’s religions, so many of them represented here today, start with a simple question.
Why are we here? What gives our life meaning? What gives our acts purpose?
We know our time on this Earth is fleeting. We know that we will each have our share of pleasure and pain, that even after we chase after some earthly goal, whether it’s wealth or power or fame or just simple comfort, we will, in some fashion, fall short of what we had hoped. We know that, no matter how good our intentions, we’ll all stumble sometimes in some way.
We’ll make mistakes, we’ll experience hardships and even when we’re trying to do the right thing, we know that much of our time will be spent groping through the darkness, so often unable to discern God’s heavenly plans.
There’s only one thing we can be sure of, and that is the love that we have for our children, for our families, for each other. The warmth of a small child’s embrace, that is true.
The memories we have of them, the joy that they bring, the wonder we see through their eyes, that fierce and boundless love we feel for them, a love that takes us out of ourselves and binds us to something larger, we know that’s what matters.
We know we’re always doing right when we’re taking care of them, when we’re teaching them well, when we’re showing acts of kindness. We don’t go wrong when we do that.
That’s what we can be sure of, and that’s what you, the people of Newtown, have reminded us. That’s how you’ve inspired us. You remind us what matters. And that’s what should drive us forward in everything we do for as long as God sees fit to keep us on this Earth.
“Let the little children come to me,” Jesus said, “and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.”
Charlotte, Daniel, Olivia, Josephine, Ana, Dylan, Madeleine, Catherine, Chase, Jesse, James, Grace, Emilie, Jack, Noah, Caroline, Jessica, Benjamin, Avielle, Allison, God has called them all home.
For those of us who remain, let us find the strength to carry on and make our country worthy of their memory. May God bless and keep those we’ve lost in his heavenly place. May he grace those we still have with his holy comfort, and may he bless and watch over this community and the United States of America."
The president then folded the binder containing his notes and exited the stage. Seemingly the entire crowd then rose to gave him a sustained ovation.
"To all the families, first responders, to the community of Newtown, clergy, guests, scripture tells us, “Do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, inwardly, we are being renewed day by day.
For light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all, so we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven not built by human hands.
We gather here in memory of 20 beautiful children and six remarkable adults. They lost their lives in a school that could have been any school in a quiet town full of good and decent people that could be any town in America.
Here in Newtown, I come to offer the love and prayers of a nation. I am very mindful that mere words cannot match the depths of your sorrow, nor can they heal your wounded hearts.
I can only hope it helps for you to know that you’re not alone in your grief, that our world, too, has been torn apart, that all across this land of ours, we have wept with you. We’ve pulled our children tight.
And you must know that whatever measure of comfort we can provide, we will provide. Whatever portion of sadness that we can share with you to ease this heavy load, we will gladly bear it. Newtown, you are not alone.
As these difficult days have unfolded, you’ve also inspired us with stories of strength and resolve and sacrifice. We know that when danger arrived in the halls of Sandy Hook Elementary, the school’s staff did not flinch.
They did not hesitate.
Dawn Hochsprung and Mary Sherlach, Vicki Soto, Lauren Rousseau, Rachel Davino and Anne Marie Murphy — they responded as we all hope we might respond in such terrifying circumstances, with courage and with love, giving their lives to protect the children in their care.
We know that there were other teachers who barricaded themselves inside classrooms and kept steady through it all and reassured their students by saying, “Wait for the good guys, they are coming. Show me your smile.”
And we know that good guys came, the first responders who raced to the scene helping to guide those in harm’s way to safety and comfort those in need, holding at bay their own shock and their own trauma, because they had a job to do and others needed them more.
And then there were the scenes of the schoolchildren helping one another, holding each other, dutifully following instructions in the way that young children sometimes do, one child even trying to encourage a grown-up by saying, “I know karate, so it’s OK; I’ll lead the way out.”
As a community, you’ve inspired us, Newtown. In the face of indescribable violence, in the face of unconscionable evil, you’ve looked out for each other. You’ve cared for one another. And you’ve loved one another. This is how Newtown will be remembered, and with time and God’s grace, that love will see you through.
But we as a nation, we are left with some hard questions. You know, someone once described the joy and anxiety of parenthood as the equivalent of having your heart outside of your body all the time, walking around.
With their very first cry, this most precious, vital part of ourselves, our child, is suddenly exposed to the world, to possible mishap or malice, and every parent knows there’s nothing we will not do to shield our children from harm. And yet we also know that with that child’s very first step and each step after that, they are separating from us, that we won’t — that we can’t always be there for them.
They will suffer sickness and setbacks and broken hearts and disappointments, and we learn that our most important job is to give them what they need to become self-reliant and capable and resilient, ready to face the world without fear. And we know we can’t do this by ourselves.
It comes as a shock at a certain point where you realize no matter how much you love these kids, you can’t do it by yourself, that this job of keeping our children safe and teaching them well is something we can only do together, with the help of friends and neighbors, the help of a community and the help of a nation.
And in that way we come to realize that we bear responsibility for every child, because we’re counting on everybody else to help look after ours, that we’re all parents, that they are all our children.
This is our first task, caring for our children. It’s our first job. If we don’t get that right, we don’t get anything right. That’s how, as a society, we will be judged.
And by that measure, can we truly say, as a nation, that we’re meeting our obligations?
Can we honestly say that we’re doing enough to keep our children, all of them, safe from harm?
Can we claim, as a nation, that we’re all together there, letting them know they are loved and teaching them to love in return?
Can we say that we’re truly doing enough to give all the children of this country the chance they deserve to live out their lives in happiness and with purpose?
I’ve been reflecting on this the last few days, and if we’re honest with ourselves, the answer’s no. We’re not doing enough. And we will have to change.
Since I’ve been president, this is the fourth time we have come together to comfort a grieving community torn apart by mass shootings, fourth time we’ve hugged survivors, the fourth time we’ve consoled the families of victims.
And in between, there have been an endless series of deadly shootings across the country, almost daily reports of victims, many of them children, in small towns and in big cities all across America, victims whose — much of the time their only fault was being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
We can’t tolerate this anymore. These tragedies must end. And to end them, we must change.
We will be told that the causes of such violence are complex, and that is true. No single law, no set of laws can eliminate evil from the world or prevent every senseless act of violence in our society, but that can’t be an excuse for inaction. Surely we can do better than this.
If there’s even one step we can take to save another child or another parent or another town from the grief that’s visited Tucson and Aurora and Oak Creek and Newtown and communities from Columbine to Blacksburg before that, then surely we have an obligation to try.
In the coming weeks, I’ll use whatever power this office holds to engage my fellow citizens, from law enforcement, to mental health professionals, to parents and educators, in an effort aimed at preventing more tragedies like this, because what choice do we have? We can’t accept events like this as routine.
Are we really prepared to say that we’re powerless in the face of such carnage, that the politics are too hard?
Are we prepared to say that such violence visited on our children year after year after year is somehow the price of our freedom?
You know, all the world’s religions, so many of them represented here today, start with a simple question.
Why are we here? What gives our life meaning? What gives our acts purpose?
We know our time on this Earth is fleeting. We know that we will each have our share of pleasure and pain, that even after we chase after some earthly goal, whether it’s wealth or power or fame or just simple comfort, we will, in some fashion, fall short of what we had hoped. We know that, no matter how good our intentions, we’ll all stumble sometimes in some way.
We’ll make mistakes, we’ll experience hardships and even when we’re trying to do the right thing, we know that much of our time will be spent groping through the darkness, so often unable to discern God’s heavenly plans.
There’s only one thing we can be sure of, and that is the love that we have for our children, for our families, for each other. The warmth of a small child’s embrace, that is true.
The memories we have of them, the joy that they bring, the wonder we see through their eyes, that fierce and boundless love we feel for them, a love that takes us out of ourselves and binds us to something larger, we know that’s what matters.
We know we’re always doing right when we’re taking care of them, when we’re teaching them well, when we’re showing acts of kindness. We don’t go wrong when we do that.
That’s what we can be sure of, and that’s what you, the people of Newtown, have reminded us. That’s how you’ve inspired us. You remind us what matters. And that’s what should drive us forward in everything we do for as long as God sees fit to keep us on this Earth.
“Let the little children come to me,” Jesus said, “and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.”
Charlotte, Daniel, Olivia, Josephine, Ana, Dylan, Madeleine, Catherine, Chase, Jesse, James, Grace, Emilie, Jack, Noah, Caroline, Jessica, Benjamin, Avielle, Allison, God has called them all home.
For those of us who remain, let us find the strength to carry on and make our country worthy of their memory. May God bless and keep those we’ve lost in his heavenly place. May he grace those we still have with his holy comfort, and may he bless and watch over this community and the United States of America."
The president then folded the binder containing his notes and exited the stage. Seemingly the entire crowd then rose to gave him a sustained ovation.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Sweet Potato Love
Over the past couple of years I've been developing an increasing appreciation of sweet potatoes, thanks to daughter Fran's cooking. Last week, daughter Lise made these sweet potato fries to go with a rotisserie chicken for a quick dinner. Heavenly! Absolutely heavenly! They were tender and moist on the inside with a caramelly tasting, slightly crunchy exterior.
I suppose that's why I woke up Saturday wondering if there were any recipes for sweet potato hash browns on the web. I began a search that left me wondering which version to make. The cakes or the hash browns?
Jodi on Twitter suggested I make one version on Saturday and the other on Sunday. I was still wondering whether it was a wise experiment. So I stored that idea and crept on.
I included all the recipes below, because I borrowed from each to make 2 dishes that best suited N's and my tastes. I made simple hash browns for Saturday, seasoning only with salt and pepper, yet including the onion sauteed in bacon fat.
On Sunday morning, I took the remaining half of food processor shredded sweet potatoes (yes, 2 medium/large potatoes are twice as many as two people need) and borrowed from two of the other recipes to create patties with egg whites, olive oil, parmasean and Gruyere cheese and rosemary.
I'll be making both versions again and again and again. What pushed the patties over the top for me? Two over easy eggs on top. What I'll add next time? I'm thinking a patty or two of breakfast sausage. My taste buds hinted that would be a delightful accompaniment.
~K <3
Remember, sweet potatoes will turn to mush with too many flicks of the spatula--utilize the timer to curb overflipping tendency.
(click here to print all)
Sweet Potato Hash Browns
1 ½ pounds sweet potato, peeled, shredded
1 cup chopped onion
4 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
Mix sweet potatoes and onions in a large bowl. Heat 2 teaspoons olive oil over medium-low to medium heat in a large skillet. Add about half of the sweet potatoes and onions, and stir to coat. Press with a spatula to flatten. Cook about 7-8 minutes; do not stir. Flip, and cook another 3-5 minutes. Remove from skillet, and set aside. Repeat to cook remaining vegetables. When done, combine the two batches in the skillet. Cook another 2-3 minutes, stirring occasionally. Serve immediately.
Yield: 8 servings (serving size: about ½ cup)
Recipe Notes
To shred potatoes, it's best to use a food processor (shredding disc attachment). Variation: Use a combination of sweet potatoes and Yukon Gold or russet potatoes.
Makes a great breakfast dish!
(K's notes: Only used sweet potato/yam. Shredded, sprinkled with water, covered with side vents and microwaved until just tender, seasoned with a tsp rosemary, salt, pepper, gruyere and Parmesan cheese, left out curry)
Crispy Sweet Potato Hash Brown Cakes
Makes about 10-12 pancakes
1 large sweet potato, skin removed and grated
2 medium white potatoes, skinned and grated
2 egg whites
1/2 tsp curry powder
1/2 tsp paprika
dash of salt and pepper
1-2 TB olive oil for skillet
Blend ingredients and form into rounded patties with hands with about 1/3 cup of mixture. Place oil in pan over medium heat and cook pancakes for about 4 minutes until nicely browned on each side. Serve with a bit of yogurt and cilantro or as desired. These are great with curried chicken and a salad.
Sweet Potato Hash Browns
Ingredients:
1/4 pound diced bacon
1/2 cup chopped onions
1/2 tablespoon chopped garlic
1 pound sweet potatoes (roughly 3 medium) — peeled and grated
Salt and pepper to taste
Directions:
In a large skillet, over medium high heat, fry the bacon until crispy, about 8 minutes.
Add the onions and saute until soft, about 2 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.
Add the garlic and sweet potatoes and season with salt and pepper. Saute for about 10 to 15 minutes. Serve warm.
Source: Emeril Lagasse
Rosemary and cheese sweet potato hash browns
Ingredients
For hash brown
3 medium sweet potatoes
5-6 slices pickled jalapenos
1 tbsp corn flour
salt and pepper to taste
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp rosemary
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
Method
Grate the sweet potatoes and add the corn flour, salt, pepper, jalapenos, rosemary and 1 tbsp olive oil to it. Mix well and keep aside. Mix the rest of the olive oil and rosemary in a bowl. Heat the skillet and brush it with the olive oil and rosemary. Fill the molds with the sweet potato mix. Top with grated Parmesan cheese, cover and cook on medium heat for 5-7 minutes. Keep checking to see that it doesn't burn. Slide them out out with a tooth pick or a sharp knife and serve
I suppose that's why I woke up Saturday wondering if there were any recipes for sweet potato hash browns on the web. I began a search that left me wondering which version to make. The cakes or the hash browns?
Jodi on Twitter suggested I make one version on Saturday and the other on Sunday. I was still wondering whether it was a wise experiment. So I stored that idea and crept on.
I included all the recipes below, because I borrowed from each to make 2 dishes that best suited N's and my tastes. I made simple hash browns for Saturday, seasoning only with salt and pepper, yet including the onion sauteed in bacon fat.
On Sunday morning, I took the remaining half of food processor shredded sweet potatoes (yes, 2 medium/large potatoes are twice as many as two people need) and borrowed from two of the other recipes to create patties with egg whites, olive oil, parmasean and Gruyere cheese and rosemary.
I'll be making both versions again and again and again. What pushed the patties over the top for me? Two over easy eggs on top. What I'll add next time? I'm thinking a patty or two of breakfast sausage. My taste buds hinted that would be a delightful accompaniment.
~K <3
Remember, sweet potatoes will turn to mush with too many flicks of the spatula--utilize the timer to curb overflipping tendency.
(click here to print all)
Sweet Potato Hash Browns
1 ½ pounds sweet potato, peeled, shredded
1 cup chopped onion
4 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
Mix sweet potatoes and onions in a large bowl. Heat 2 teaspoons olive oil over medium-low to medium heat in a large skillet. Add about half of the sweet potatoes and onions, and stir to coat. Press with a spatula to flatten. Cook about 7-8 minutes; do not stir. Flip, and cook another 3-5 minutes. Remove from skillet, and set aside. Repeat to cook remaining vegetables. When done, combine the two batches in the skillet. Cook another 2-3 minutes, stirring occasionally. Serve immediately.
Yield: 8 servings (serving size: about ½ cup)
Recipe Notes
To shred potatoes, it's best to use a food processor (shredding disc attachment). Variation: Use a combination of sweet potatoes and Yukon Gold or russet potatoes.
Makes a great breakfast dish!
(K's notes: Only used sweet potato/yam. Shredded, sprinkled with water, covered with side vents and microwaved until just tender, seasoned with a tsp rosemary, salt, pepper, gruyere and Parmesan cheese, left out curry)
Crispy Sweet Potato Hash Brown Cakes
Makes about 10-12 pancakes
1 large sweet potato, skin removed and grated
2 medium white potatoes, skinned and grated
2 egg whites
1/2 tsp curry powder
1/2 tsp paprika
dash of salt and pepper
1-2 TB olive oil for skillet
Blend ingredients and form into rounded patties with hands with about 1/3 cup of mixture. Place oil in pan over medium heat and cook pancakes for about 4 minutes until nicely browned on each side. Serve with a bit of yogurt and cilantro or as desired. These are great with curried chicken and a salad.
Sweet Potato Hash Browns
Ingredients:
1/4 pound diced bacon
1/2 cup chopped onions
1/2 tablespoon chopped garlic
1 pound sweet potatoes (roughly 3 medium) — peeled and grated
Salt and pepper to taste
Directions:
In a large skillet, over medium high heat, fry the bacon until crispy, about 8 minutes.
Add the onions and saute until soft, about 2 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.
Add the garlic and sweet potatoes and season with salt and pepper. Saute for about 10 to 15 minutes. Serve warm.
Source: Emeril Lagasse
Rosemary and cheese sweet potato hash browns
Ingredients
For hash brown
3 medium sweet potatoes
5-6 slices pickled jalapenos
1 tbsp corn flour
salt and pepper to taste
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp rosemary
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
Method
Grate the sweet potatoes and add the corn flour, salt, pepper, jalapenos, rosemary and 1 tbsp olive oil to it. Mix well and keep aside. Mix the rest of the olive oil and rosemary in a bowl. Heat the skillet and brush it with the olive oil and rosemary. Fill the molds with the sweet potato mix. Top with grated Parmesan cheese, cover and cook on medium heat for 5-7 minutes. Keep checking to see that it doesn't burn. Slide them out out with a tooth pick or a sharp knife and serve
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Mockingbird Hill in South Salem
When N and I take the dogs for a walk to our neighborhood park, we rarely run into anyone interested in trading anything more than the occasional "hello". But today, on our final stretch towards home. we ran into an older woman named, Addie.
She immediately engaged us in conversation, telling us which house she lived in, that her father had built the house and how several years ago she moved back from New York to renovate the old family home and retire. She said that her father's house was one of about 5 houses in the area and that they used to have a clear view all the way over to an old brick home at the southwest end of Madrona. She pointed out another house, that has been through several owners in the 20 years we've lived in this neighborhood, saying it was once the size of what is now the garage/shop.
Addie asked where we live and when we told her Mockingbird Drive, she asked if we knew the story of how the road got its name. She said that a woman lived on that part of the hill and used to come out onto her porch in the evenings and serenade the other residents, always asking permission first. The songstress sang, "Indian Love Call", a few others we can't remember and then ended her concert with "Mockingbird Hill". Then she'd tell each resident goodnight, before retiring. Now I wonder what house the singer lived in or if it even still exists.
If it hadn't been raining (our dogs aren't crazy about wet dog walks) we probably would've taken Addie up on her offer of an exploratory walk to see one of the oldest homes in the area.
I love history. Especially when it's connected to where we live.
Mockin' Bird Hill
Page Patti
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
It gives me a thrill
To wake up in the morning to the mockingbird's trill
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
There's peace and goodwill
You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill
When the sun in the morning
Peeps over the hill,
And kisses the roses 'round my windowsill
Then my heart fills with gladness
When I hear the trill
Of the birds in the treetops on Mockin' Bird Hill
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
It gives me a thrill
To wake up in the morning to the mockingbird's trill
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
There's peace and goodwill
You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill
When it's late in the evening,
I climb up the hill
And survey all my kingdom while everything's still
Only me and the sky -- and an old whippoorwill
Singin' songs in the twilight on Mockin' Bird Hill
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
It gives me a thrill
To wake up in the morning to the mockingbird's trill
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
There's peace and goodwill
You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
There's peace and goodwill
You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill
She immediately engaged us in conversation, telling us which house she lived in, that her father had built the house and how several years ago she moved back from New York to renovate the old family home and retire. She said that her father's house was one of about 5 houses in the area and that they used to have a clear view all the way over to an old brick home at the southwest end of Madrona. She pointed out another house, that has been through several owners in the 20 years we've lived in this neighborhood, saying it was once the size of what is now the garage/shop.
Addie asked where we live and when we told her Mockingbird Drive, she asked if we knew the story of how the road got its name. She said that a woman lived on that part of the hill and used to come out onto her porch in the evenings and serenade the other residents, always asking permission first. The songstress sang, "Indian Love Call", a few others we can't remember and then ended her concert with "Mockingbird Hill". Then she'd tell each resident goodnight, before retiring. Now I wonder what house the singer lived in or if it even still exists.
If it hadn't been raining (our dogs aren't crazy about wet dog walks) we probably would've taken Addie up on her offer of an exploratory walk to see one of the oldest homes in the area.
I love history. Especially when it's connected to where we live.
Mockin' Bird Hill
Page Patti
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
It gives me a thrill
To wake up in the morning to the mockingbird's trill
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
There's peace and goodwill
You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill
When the sun in the morning
Peeps over the hill,
And kisses the roses 'round my windowsill
Then my heart fills with gladness
When I hear the trill
Of the birds in the treetops on Mockin' Bird Hill
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
It gives me a thrill
To wake up in the morning to the mockingbird's trill
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
There's peace and goodwill
You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill
When it's late in the evening,
I climb up the hill
And survey all my kingdom while everything's still
Only me and the sky -- and an old whippoorwill
Singin' songs in the twilight on Mockin' Bird Hill
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
It gives me a thrill
To wake up in the morning to the mockingbird's trill
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
There's peace and goodwill
You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill
Tra-la-la, twiddly-dee-dee
There's peace and goodwill
You're welcome as the flowers on Mockin' Bird Hill
Monday, November 5, 2012
This Makes Me Smile
This is a local (PDX) band, that plays in Independence at Yeasty Beasty this evening.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Piecing it together
When our daughter Fran's situation was near it's most stressful, I began hearing stories of/from people who were struggling with their own medical situations. Many of the people, surprisingly to me, were also undiagnosed after a long string of dead-ends. And like us, they had heard the words, "I'm sorry, I don't know what else to do for you", more than once.
During those dark times, I had read an author's account of her medical journey, where she suggested the best solution was to find a doctor who would act as coach. Someone who wouldn't easily give up and could sort through all of the results with a keen, forensic eye. But how does a person find a doctor like this? And why isn't our medical system set-up to deal with these situations? Would it help to have regional institutions like the Mayo or Cleveland Clinic?
Today I found myself in a conversation with a work colleague, when we realized the two of us shared an acquaintance with one of the people who shared their child's story with me. I was so happy to hear that after his long, sad journey, his parents had the time and resources to take him to the Mayo Clinic for several months after his case had been submitted and accepted. He was diagnosed with a rare, but treatable disease. Though he has to follow a strict health regimen, he was able to finish high school and start college.
The work colleague I was sharing with, is married to a doctor. He was stymied that this family had gone from specialist to specialist, only to have the same tests done over and over--a waste of time and resources. Something that frustrated and confused our family as well and made us wonder why doctors didn't take the time to read patients files.
During those dark times, I had read an author's account of her medical journey, where she suggested the best solution was to find a doctor who would act as coach. Someone who wouldn't easily give up and could sort through all of the results with a keen, forensic eye. But how does a person find a doctor like this? And why isn't our medical system set-up to deal with these situations? Would it help to have regional institutions like the Mayo or Cleveland Clinic?
Now when I look back on the most emotional moments, I edit letter after letter in my head to the doctors and medical professionals who not only failed to help Fran, but managed to turn the table and make it about her mental health. Claiming that she didn't really want to get any better and nothing was physically wrong with her.
Those emotional moments are still fresh and raw. I'm glad I can't see or hear the tearful speeches we made on her behalf, that appeared to fall on skeptical and seemingly unsympathetic ears. How I wish doctors could work to bring about the changes that are needed to provide medical care to help people, not try to placate, shrug or assume patients don't want to get better. Or are doctors entrenched in their own issues and unable to see where change is needed?
Those emotional moments are still fresh and raw. I'm glad I can't see or hear the tearful speeches we made on her behalf, that appeared to fall on skeptical and seemingly unsympathetic ears. How I wish doctors could work to bring about the changes that are needed to provide medical care to help people, not try to placate, shrug or assume patients don't want to get better. Or are doctors entrenched in their own issues and unable to see where change is needed?
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Have you ever?
Embracing the elephant in your life . . . |
It's not horrible or impossible, but it does feel like one of the hardest things I've ever done (as far as work goes).
Thank goodness education comes with it's joys to make up for those moments of exasperation. It helps too, that my environment is full of people who understand and don't judge when I (discretely) roll my eyes or sigh.
It's also times like these that make me appreciate people who do their jobs and find a way to support coworkers, even when their loads are overwhelming.
Soldier on.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Things I take for granted
Probably every year I've worked with the wee folk I hear someone say, "I could never do what you do.".
I never fail to show amusement, because there's nowhere else I'd rather be than working with the small people. Why are so many teachers intimidated by the idea? They're so sweet and so ready to learn. Though I'm learning it's not easy to explain the process to a newbie.
When I say, "never take anything for granted with the wee folk", I don't mean repeat directions 20 times. I mean, show them how to do the simplest task--like using scissors or a glue bottle. SHOW THEM . . . . once, maybe twice. Remember, we all have short attention spans and few of us retain things the first time round.
Regarding my week so far: (Keeping it short and sweet) There is injustice in the world, but I believe there's nothing we can't deal with. It may be painful to participate in or watch, but we're strong enough to handle it.
Soldier on.
I never fail to show amusement, because there's nowhere else I'd rather be than working with the small people. Why are so many teachers intimidated by the idea? They're so sweet and so ready to learn. Though I'm learning it's not easy to explain the process to a newbie.
When I say, "never take anything for granted with the wee folk", I don't mean repeat directions 20 times. I mean, show them how to do the simplest task--like using scissors or a glue bottle. SHOW THEM . . . . once, maybe twice. Remember, we all have short attention spans and few of us retain things the first time round.
Regarding my week so far: (Keeping it short and sweet) There is injustice in the world, but I believe there's nothing we can't deal with. It may be painful to participate in or watch, but we're strong enough to handle it.
Soldier on.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Post event review
I'd like to take credit for the entire barbecue, but all I really did was had an idea (thanks to Amber), send out an email, set-up a Facebook group, cleaned house and ran some errands around town.
Fran was in charge of recipes, rib prep, southwestern salad, baked beans, peach cake and sangria.
N blew the pathway and deck clean of blossoms/leaves, mowed the grass, cleaned the chairs and smoked the ribs.
Lise helped with the pups and keeping things organized and tidy.
And (as equally important) guests brought chairs, a table, beer, wine, cider and so much delicious food. I wish I'd taken a photograph before we all dug in.
AND I just (yes, right now) learned that several guests worked hard at setting up the desserts and ice cream on the table.
What would I change next time?
- Add the sparkling water to the sangria before serving and put out a bowl of sliced oranges to add to each glass.
- Think about grilling something that takes less time
- Think about how to illuminate the yard to keep the party going
- Making so much food, guests can just show up and enjoy
- Any other thoughts?
Southwest Salad
Alton's rib recipe
Pink Lemonade Pie (may or may not be recipe Kristi used, plus she subbed oreos for graham crackers)
Here's the sangria recipe we made (we quadrupled the recipe using 2 Bota boxes of Malbec & Red-volution, but left out 1/3 of the sugar and half the spices):
Easy Sangria
Cooking Light MAY 2003
Yield: 8 servings (serving size: about 3/4 cup)
Ingredients
1 (1.5-liter) bottle dry red wine, divided
2 tablespoons brandy
2 tablespoons Triple Sec (orange-flavored liqueur)
1/3 cup sugar
2/3 cup fresh orange juice
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
5 whole cloves
3 whole allspice
1 (3-inch) cinnamon stick
2 cups sparkling water, chilled
8 orange wedges
5 lemon slices
5 lime slices
Preparation
Combine 1/2 cup wine, brandy, liqueur, and sugar in a 2-quart glass measure, stir to dissolve sugar. Stir in the remaining wine, juices, cloves, allspice, and cinnamon. Chill at least 2 hours.
Strain mixture into a pitcher, and discard spices. Just before serving, stir in sparkling water and the remaining ingredients.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Tomatoes, Rice, Corn and Green Chiles
Fran took the following recipe and turned it into a rice sidedish. Other than exchanging the quinoa for rice and using grape tomatoes instead of stuffing the mixture into tomatoes, her recipe is pretty much the same.
And it was amazing.
And it was amazing.
Photo by: Photo: Romulo Yanes; Food Styling: Simon Andrews; Prop Styling: Helen Crowther
Baked Tomatoes with Quinoa, Corn, and Green Chiles
These tomatoes are stuffed full with super healthy quinoa, sweet fresh corn, pobalno chiles, and lots of shredded cheese. Fresh lime juice adds a burst of citrus freshness. It's a delicious side or meatless main.
Cooking Light JUNE 2012
- Yield: Serves 6 (serving size: 1 stuffed tomato)
- Hands-on:55 Minutes
- Total:1 Hour, 20 Minutes
- 2 poblano chiles
- 2 cups fresh corn kernels (about 4 ears)
- 1 cup chopped onion
- 1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
- 1 teaspoon salt, divided
- 3/4 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- 6 large ripe tomatoes (about 4 pounds)
- 1 cup uncooked quinoa
- 1/4 cup water
- 4 ounces colby-Jack cheese, shredded (about 1 cup packed)
1. Preheat broiler to high.
2. Cut the chiles in half lengthwise; discard seeds and membranes. Place chile halves,
skin side up, on a foil-lined baking sheet; flatten with hand. Broil 8 minutes or until
blackened. Place in a paper bag; close tightly. Let stand 10 minutes. Peel chiles.
Coarsely chop chiles; place in a bowl. Add corn and onion to pan; broil 10 minutes,
stirring twice. Add corn mixture to chopped chiles; stir in oregano, oil, lime juice,
1/4 teaspoon salt, cumin, and black pepper.
skin side up, on a foil-lined baking sheet; flatten with hand. Broil 8 minutes or until
blackened. Place in a paper bag; close tightly. Let stand 10 minutes. Peel chiles.
Coarsely chop chiles; place in a bowl. Add corn and onion to pan; broil 10 minutes,
stirring twice. Add corn mixture to chopped chiles; stir in oregano, oil, lime juice,
1/4 teaspoon salt, cumin, and black pepper.
3. Cut tops off tomatoes; set aside. Carefully scoop out tomato pulp, leaving shells
intact. Drain pulp through a sieve over a bowl, pressing with the back of a spoon to
extract liquid. Reserve 1 1/4 cups liquid, and discard remaining liquid. Sprinkle
tomatoes with 1/2 teaspoon salt. Invert tomatoes on a wire rack; let stand 30 minutes.
Dry insides of tomatoes with a paper towel.
intact. Drain pulp through a sieve over a bowl, pressing with the back of a spoon to
extract liquid. Reserve 1 1/4 cups liquid, and discard remaining liquid. Sprinkle
tomatoes with 1/2 teaspoon salt. Invert tomatoes on a wire rack; let stand 30 minutes.
Dry insides of tomatoes with a paper towel.
4. Place quinoa in a fine sieve, and place sieve in a large bowl. Cover quinoa with
water. Using your hands, rub the grains together for 30 seconds; rinse and drain.
Repeat the procedure twice. Drain well. Combine reserved tomato liquid, quinoa,
1/4 cup water, and the remaining salt in a medium saucepan; bring to a boil.
Cover, reduce heat, and simmer for 15 minutes or until liquid is absorbed.
Remove from heat; fluff with a fork. Add quinoa mixture to corn mixture; toss well.
water. Using your hands, rub the grains together for 30 seconds; rinse and drain.
Repeat the procedure twice. Drain well. Combine reserved tomato liquid, quinoa,
1/4 cup water, and the remaining salt in a medium saucepan; bring to a boil.
Cover, reduce heat, and simmer for 15 minutes or until liquid is absorbed.
Remove from heat; fluff with a fork. Add quinoa mixture to corn mixture; toss well.
5. Preheat oven to 350°.
6. Spoon about 3/4 cup corn mixture into each tomato. Divide cheese evenly
among tomatoes. Place tomatoes and tops, if desired, on a jelly-roll pan. Bake
at 350° for 15 minutes. Remove from oven. Preheat broiler. Broil the tomatoes
1 1/2 minutes or until cheese melts. Place tomato tops on tomatoes,
if desired.
among tomatoes. Place tomatoes and tops, if desired, on a jelly-roll pan. Bake
at 350° for 15 minutes. Remove from oven. Preheat broiler. Broil the tomatoes
1 1/2 minutes or until cheese melts. Place tomato tops on tomatoes,
if desired.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Juggling and adjusting
It won't be an easy year, but I will find joy in the smiles, hugs and accomplishments of the short folk. Whether it's on the faces of the children or watching their progress or having a family return with a younger child, I will find it.
I love kindergarten. It's true, it can be challenging at times, but oh so rewarding.
This year's challenge? This is the first time I will have worked with a teacher who's not wholly confident or bubbling over with ideas over the task ahead. It's her third year at our school and her third grade. I imagine that would be tough for anyone.
The juggling part comes from knowing exactly how my last teacher (we worked together for 6+ years) would be setting up and preparing for the coming days. I had no idea how difficult it would be to not go on auto-pilot with no clear direction.
I enjoy telling people that I'm Robin to my teachers' Batman personas, but my inner Batman has begun sitting on my shoulder egging me on. Hopefully, he doesn't find a pitchfork to prod me with.
Wish me luck.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Vacation 2012
We had planned on camping at Shadow Bay on Waldo Lake, but one step out of the truck led us to believe that someone had called ahead and alerted the mosquitoes to our arrival, "wait until you taste Sara!". So we drove down the road and camped for 2 or 3 nights on the north side of the lake. There were still mosquitoes, but only half as many. We decided that was long enough to be held hostage to the indoors at night and went to look elsewhere.
So many campers up there, we had to settle for the big La Pine State CG. Not my favorite. It's like a small town with everyone outside, but we were glad the huge group across the street (and most everyone else) were courteous during the sleeping hours.
We went out exploring in the truck during most days. Sara even ventured out on three short trails, which surprised me. I'm sure the trip was good for her, in many ways.
I finally made a leap and bought some aluminum liners for our dutch oven. What a gift to the resident dutch oven cleaner! He was skeptical when I talked about them, but no longer. Funny thing is that Jack's Country Store up by Susie's beach house, is where we bought them online.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
One step closer
No, we're still not finished. The beadboard has been done for several days, but we still have decisions to make.
We're leaning towards adding this mantle: http://www.pearlmantels.com/111gallery.html
Another decision that's holding us back, is whether to paint the brick or not. We've read about a few different ideas that appeal to us. One is sponging or spraying watered down paint until you achieve the desired lightness. The other is priming the entire brick area, adding either a light or dark color and then sponging on the opposite color to add interest. Maybe three colors total for more depth.
The question we're discussing now: would dark colors on light go better, or the opposite? {sigh}
Saturday, July 7, 2012
What we found behind the paneling . . .
It's all Franny's fault. :>)
We're finally getting rid of the paneling in the living room. We'll be putting up bead board (over that mess of a wall) and painting it a complimentary (or so I've been told) color to go with the new paint on the other walls.
Funny to see writing on the wall and signs of past 1" tile. It appears to have covered the wall above the fireplace and on the right hand side. I can only guess that maybe there was a floor to ceiling bookcase on the opposite side. Why else would the tile not be over there?? More questions we can't answer.
This evening, N began to pull the facing surrounding the woodstove insert. Not sure why. Curiosity I spose.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
"Let's Add a Little Dirt to Our Diet"
Franny and I were painting our little hearts out, when we heard a word (on OPB radio) that always makes us perk up our ears, "micro-organisms". I've long had a problem with the belief that people can never bleach/disinfect our environment enough. So glad there's more and more science to support the opposite.
OP-ED CONTRIBUTOR
Dirtying Up Our Diets
By JEFF D. LEACH
Published June 20, 2012
"OVER 7,000 strong and growing, community farmers’ markets are being heralded as a panacea for what ails our sick nation. The smell of fresh, earthy goodness is the reason environmentalists approve of them, locavores can’t live without them, and the first lady has hitched her vegetable cart crusade to them. As health-giving as those bundles of mouthwatering leafy greens and crates of plump tomatoes are, the greatest social contribution of the farmers’ market may be its role as a delivery vehicle for putting dirt back into the American diet and in the process, reacquainting the human immune system with some “old friends.”
Increasing evidence suggests that the alarming rise in allergic and autoimmune disorders during the past few decades is at least partly attributable to our lack of exposure to . . .(click here to read entire article) "
It's Her Thing
This summer, Fran is on fire with a to do list in hand. She decided the back bedroom, whose walls had gone long neglected, needed to be painted. She spackled (proclaimed her big sis shall never push another pushpin into another wall again), chose paint color, prepped (with help of her big sis) and painted. The transformation, from my point of view, is breathtaking. Of course, there were other subtle changes: rearranging, tidying up, tossing.
Then she dove into the daunting (4 yrs worth) layers in her bedroom. After going through her clothes and books and taking several bags to the Goodwill, she can now escape to her own bed once again.
She's right in the middle of painting the hallway, dining room and living room at the moment. Gray? Really? You want to paint the walls gray? And so far I'm loving it. It's calm and crisp and to my deficient eyes looks good with everything in the room.
I wonder where she'll take me next?
Then she dove into the daunting (4 yrs worth) layers in her bedroom. After going through her clothes and books and taking several bags to the Goodwill, she can now escape to her own bed once again.
She's right in the middle of painting the hallway, dining room and living room at the moment. Gray? Really? You want to paint the walls gray? And so far I'm loving it. It's calm and crisp and to my deficient eyes looks good with everything in the room.
I wonder where she'll take me next?
Friday, June 22, 2012
Most Loved
I'll bet you don't even know
that you're the favorite
I've finally decided
that special honor
isn't due to
an open door
Maybe it's that
unwavering gaze
straight into your
audience's heart
Or as mother
described you
so soft, so warm
so huggable
I hate to admit
learning your status
hurt me
Why should it?
Because
I thought it was me
Monday, June 18, 2012
After words and After thoughts (apologies to Rod McKuen)
Let me be absolutely clear, I love my family and I love to bring people into our backyard when the weather allows. But what I'm not, is a good hostess.
I recognize this ability in others. I even go over what I want and need to do before the event happens, but no matter what-- I end up sitting in one place engaging in conversation with whoever happens to be in the vicinity. After everyone leaves, the self critique begins. Where oh where is the progress?!
That's one of the many things I admired about you Mom. You seemed to have an ability to be everywhere when you hosted or helped host. I know it was Father's Day yesterday, but I really felt your absence. I am glad that Dad decided to share your ashes. No, they're not you. They're just a comforting little symbol of you. You're in a quiet shade garden, back in a corner, with the hardy fuchsias, hostas, ferns and hydrangea vine. (Thank you, Lise, for the wise suggestion.)
With Love,
K
I recognize this ability in others. I even go over what I want and need to do before the event happens, but no matter what-- I end up sitting in one place engaging in conversation with whoever happens to be in the vicinity. After everyone leaves, the self critique begins. Where oh where is the progress?!
With Love,
K
Thursday, June 7, 2012
End of the school year
Hard to believe there are only 3 school days left. Especially as I sit here listening and watching the heavy downpour outside.
Our school is one of several preparing to pack up for a summer remodel. Which has meant the past several days have been partially devoted to engaging the children in tidying up bins and getting classroom items ready to pack. Thanks to our volunteers, a few boxes are filled everyday.
Not sure how I feel about using instruction time for packing and cleaning. But yeah, there's that rain coming down today and those wee folk really need their activity breaks--especially during this antsy time of year.
Our school is one of several preparing to pack up for a summer remodel. Which has meant the past several days have been partially devoted to engaging the children in tidying up bins and getting classroom items ready to pack. Thanks to our volunteers, a few boxes are filled everyday.
Not sure how I feel about using instruction time for packing and cleaning. But yeah, there's that rain coming down today and those wee folk really need their activity breaks--especially during this antsy time of year.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Shhhh!
"I love you children, really I do.
But can you please settle down and be quiet?"
Just for an hour.
That's all I want.
I want to remember all the reasons I love spending 9 months of every year with you, watching you learn and grow. Remember that book I read to you in science on Wednesday? I spent hours looking for that book. I was thrilled when I found it. I thought, wow! A book written by a scientist for her children about photosynthesis! Exactly what i was looking for! Sadly, only one of you (she's in the PM class, in case you're curious) listened all the way through. And she exclaimed (to my excitement), "we're all connected!"Oh K! You made my heart soar! That's exactly how I felt the first time I understood photosynthesis--the plants and people NEED each other!
Sadly, I cannot remember what my own personal last school days were like. I remember a few times being excited over winter break when there was snow, but that's it. Naive? Selective memory? Could be. Or maybe it's the solar system working against every teacher in the universe. Influencing the part of the brain that controls decision making?
Whatever is to blame, I'll always remember that moment K, and talk about you to future kindergartners.
But please, just remember, it's up to you. It's not the adults in your life who should be entertaining you. YOU should be trying with all your might to squeeze the juice out of every moment.
But can you please settle down and be quiet?"
Just for an hour.
That's all I want.
I want to remember all the reasons I love spending 9 months of every year with you, watching you learn and grow. Remember that book I read to you in science on Wednesday? I spent hours looking for that book. I was thrilled when I found it. I thought, wow! A book written by a scientist for her children about photosynthesis! Exactly what i was looking for! Sadly, only one of you (she's in the PM class, in case you're curious) listened all the way through. And she exclaimed (to my excitement), "we're all connected!"Oh K! You made my heart soar! That's exactly how I felt the first time I understood photosynthesis--the plants and people NEED each other!
Sadly, I cannot remember what my own personal last school days were like. I remember a few times being excited over winter break when there was snow, but that's it. Naive? Selective memory? Could be. Or maybe it's the solar system working against every teacher in the universe. Influencing the part of the brain that controls decision making?
Whatever is to blame, I'll always remember that moment K, and talk about you to future kindergartners.
But please, just remember, it's up to you. It's not the adults in your life who should be entertaining you. YOU should be trying with all your might to squeeze the juice out of every moment.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Logo thoughts
I've dabbled for years with creating on my computer. I even won a few contests--though I quit competing when I heard it takes jobs away from bona fide graphic designers. It was probably around that same time that I slowed to only occasional design tinkering (for my own use) and fell behind in keeping up to date with learning how to use new software tools.
I haven't stopped being critical of other's design work, however. Now that I spend more time on Facebook reading restaurant updates, there are too many opportunities to see owner created logos or icons. It's not a good trend, in my opinion.
If you're putting all you have into running or starting up a business, a logo is an important investment. It should be clean, crisp and appealing. It should be suitable for using in a variety of situations--not just a sign. Format is important, too. When you head to the printers, it needs to be ready for them to do whatever it is you've asked them to do. Otherwise, they'll need to spend hours trying to recreate what you've already spent valuable hours working on. Are you starting to get the idea?
Plus, they already know what will and won't work for all the situations logos are put to use. Not to mention all of the benefits of fonts, kerning, use of color and how to get a design to communicate your message. Because, face it, you DO have a message. Whether it's to welcome customers, encourage them to step through your doors, whet their appetite or give them the impression that you know what the hell you're doing.
Looking like a professional. Now that's a great idea.
I haven't stopped being critical of other's design work, however. Now that I spend more time on Facebook reading restaurant updates, there are too many opportunities to see owner created logos or icons. It's not a good trend, in my opinion.
If you're putting all you have into running or starting up a business, a logo is an important investment. It should be clean, crisp and appealing. It should be suitable for using in a variety of situations--not just a sign. Format is important, too. When you head to the printers, it needs to be ready for them to do whatever it is you've asked them to do. Otherwise, they'll need to spend hours trying to recreate what you've already spent valuable hours working on. Are you starting to get the idea?
Plus, they already know what will and won't work for all the situations logos are put to use. Not to mention all of the benefits of fonts, kerning, use of color and how to get a design to communicate your message. Because, face it, you DO have a message. Whether it's to welcome customers, encourage them to step through your doors, whet their appetite or give them the impression that you know what the hell you're doing.
Looking like a professional. Now that's a great idea.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Teddy Bear Picnic
I apologize in advance. This is one of those memory posts I can refer to when someone says, "how did we do that teddy bear picnic thing last year?"
Of course the next problem will be remembering I created this post. ;>)
It was a case of necessity: field trips cost money. Plus we had waited too long to call The Gilbert House to secure a date that worked for our schedule.
An email went out to parents a few days prior to the picnic and permission slips went home the day before. Children were asked to bring a small stuffed animal that could go outside, an umbrella and their backpack.
The night before, lunch bags, mini bagels, whipped cream cheese, baby carrots, sliced apples, mini cookies and short bottled water, were purchased.
When they arrived they wrote their names (could decorate next year?) on a lunch bag and put it in their cubby. After carpet time they had two jobs to complete before we could pack up and walk to the park: make their lunch and put their foam kite together.
Parents manned the lunch assembly table. Lunch items were portioned into baggies (carrots and apples together). Children spread cream cheese on their mini bagel half before putting it into a baggie.
Bear faces were drawn with sharpies on their foam plate kites. Adults poked holes for the strings, children taped string and tails onto the plate.
At pack-up time, everything (even stuffed animals) was tucked into backpacks. A red wagon was brought along for blankets and any needed extras. We opened umbrellas on the way to the park for our parade.
Foam plate kite: bear face drawn on bottom of the plate, hole poked about 3.5" from top, string pushed through from bottom and taped to other side, 2 light weight strips for a tail taped on.
Prep: String was cut and a craft stick was taped to one end. Tails cut.
Brainstorm ideas on how to make this a longer task for the children. Maybe bear face could be drawn and cut from brown paper and then glued on? Be sure to do test plates first.
Of course the next problem will be remembering I created this post. ;>)
It was a case of necessity: field trips cost money. Plus we had waited too long to call The Gilbert House to secure a date that worked for our schedule.
An email went out to parents a few days prior to the picnic and permission slips went home the day before. Children were asked to bring a small stuffed animal that could go outside, an umbrella and their backpack.
The night before, lunch bags, mini bagels, whipped cream cheese, baby carrots, sliced apples, mini cookies and short bottled water, were purchased.
When they arrived they wrote their names (could decorate next year?) on a lunch bag and put it in their cubby. After carpet time they had two jobs to complete before we could pack up and walk to the park: make their lunch and put their foam kite together.
Parents manned the lunch assembly table. Lunch items were portioned into baggies (carrots and apples together). Children spread cream cheese on their mini bagel half before putting it into a baggie.
Bear faces were drawn with sharpies on their foam plate kites. Adults poked holes for the strings, children taped string and tails onto the plate.
At pack-up time, everything (even stuffed animals) was tucked into backpacks. A red wagon was brought along for blankets and any needed extras. We opened umbrellas on the way to the park for our parade.
Foam plate kite: bear face drawn on bottom of the plate, hole poked about 3.5" from top, string pushed through from bottom and taped to other side, 2 light weight strips for a tail taped on.
Prep: String was cut and a craft stick was taped to one end. Tails cut.
Brainstorm ideas on how to make this a longer task for the children. Maybe bear face could be drawn and cut from brown paper and then glued on? Be sure to do test plates first.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
. . . and then the moth flew down
All school year the wee folk have been maintaining fairly well on Thursdays, but today the PM class finally cracked. And that's when I realized how long we've been expecting them to sit and listen with only transitions--no activity breaks.
Their Thursday schedule: a writing or reading job, carpet/calendar time, Weekly Readers, library (they're read to, then check-out) and then either computers or a video. Sometimes we have time for a recess at the end, sometimes.
Today, teacher L wanted us to watch a video after library to give her a chance to enter reading data. I chose one that (sadly) turned out to be appealing to about 75% of my audience. Just off the mark enough to cause some contagious restlessness. And then a moth flew down and caused an uproar. There were the concerned ones, "don't touch the wings! it'll die!", a few were freaked out and began to shriek and then there were the ones who love the chance to make some noise.
I shut the video off and one of our exceptionally well behaved children turned to me and said, "Well, so much for that. Good job problem solving." Yes, he is a bit mature for a wee folk, but I was glad to have his calm camaraderie during the chaos.
Their Thursday schedule: a writing or reading job, carpet/calendar time, Weekly Readers, library (they're read to, then check-out) and then either computers or a video. Sometimes we have time for a recess at the end, sometimes.
Today, teacher L wanted us to watch a video after library to give her a chance to enter reading data. I chose one that (sadly) turned out to be appealing to about 75% of my audience. Just off the mark enough to cause some contagious restlessness. And then a moth flew down and caused an uproar. There were the concerned ones, "don't touch the wings! it'll die!", a few were freaked out and began to shriek and then there were the ones who love the chance to make some noise.
I shut the video off and one of our exceptionally well behaved children turned to me and said, "Well, so much for that. Good job problem solving." Yes, he is a bit mature for a wee folk, but I was glad to have his calm camaraderie during the chaos.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Do you have what it takes?
There have been several times in my life when I wished I had the kind of quick thinking and reacting skills to do the right thing in an emergency. Not just anything, but the correct thing. My first self realization occurred after I showed up for jury duty for Salem's 1992 fire bombing trial. I had been anxious while I filled out the long qualifying questionnaire, finding the correct parking area and trotting the somewhat long distance with a fellow member to the court house. But that's who I am--an anxious person.
We potential jury members were part of a larger than normal pool. They ushered us through the metal detector and into a large courtroom. There was standing room only. A judge told us of the possible long time commitment and began the process of listening to those who asked to be excused. My fellow trotter and I, leaned against the back wall next to one another.
And then it happened. I felt my fellow trotter's shoulder lean into my own. He was an older gentleman and we had been standing a long time, I justified. But then it became clear that he wasn't leaning, he was experiencing a medical emergency. I eased his limp body to the wood floor. My first thoughts didn't include heart attack, I assumed he had locked his knees and fainted. I removed my jacket and placed it under his head. Luckily, another juror with the needed experience and response, handed my jacket back to me and said we needed to keep him lying flat.
I stepped back to let those amazing people who knew just what to do, step in. Paramedics arrived immediately. I remember hearing they had been in the basement preparing for their day. I read in the paper that the man passed away a week or so later.
Self realization number two: During my drive to work I spotted a woman walking her little dog. A much larger, unleashed dog, was harassing her dog. When I mentioned it at work, my co-worker asked, "and you didn't stop to help?". I'm embarrassed to admit that the thought had never crossed my mind.
And the latest? Two days ago, I was driving to my credit union to deposit a check and spotted a dachshund walking on the sidewalk without his owner. I drove slowly and thought about parking in the next available spot and returning to pick him up, but what would I do after that? Take him back to work with me? As the questions rolled through my head, I spotted 2 other cars pull over and walk back to rescue the dog.
Are some of us just wired better to respond to situations? Or is there a way to change how we react?
We potential jury members were part of a larger than normal pool. They ushered us through the metal detector and into a large courtroom. There was standing room only. A judge told us of the possible long time commitment and began the process of listening to those who asked to be excused. My fellow trotter and I, leaned against the back wall next to one another.
And then it happened. I felt my fellow trotter's shoulder lean into my own. He was an older gentleman and we had been standing a long time, I justified. But then it became clear that he wasn't leaning, he was experiencing a medical emergency. I eased his limp body to the wood floor. My first thoughts didn't include heart attack, I assumed he had locked his knees and fainted. I removed my jacket and placed it under his head. Luckily, another juror with the needed experience and response, handed my jacket back to me and said we needed to keep him lying flat.
I stepped back to let those amazing people who knew just what to do, step in. Paramedics arrived immediately. I remember hearing they had been in the basement preparing for their day. I read in the paper that the man passed away a week or so later.
Self realization number two: During my drive to work I spotted a woman walking her little dog. A much larger, unleashed dog, was harassing her dog. When I mentioned it at work, my co-worker asked, "and you didn't stop to help?". I'm embarrassed to admit that the thought had never crossed my mind.
And the latest? Two days ago, I was driving to my credit union to deposit a check and spotted a dachshund walking on the sidewalk without his owner. I drove slowly and thought about parking in the next available spot and returning to pick him up, but what would I do after that? Take him back to work with me? As the questions rolled through my head, I spotted 2 other cars pull over and walk back to rescue the dog.
Are some of us just wired better to respond to situations? Or is there a way to change how we react?
Monday, April 23, 2012
Flourless Chocolate Cookies with Chocolate Chips & Cocoa Nibs
Franny made these for us last night. Not sure how I've kept from eating them all, except I'm pretty sure she keeps a secret tally. ;>)
It's true I am a bit naive when it comes to baking or any other kind of cooking, but am I the only one who has never heard of toasting walnuts before adding them to a recipe? I get the adding flavor thing. I've just never heard of toasting walnuts.
The recipe came from playingwithflour.blogspot.com
Flourless Chocolate-Walnut Cookies
Adapted from Francois Payard via New York Magazine*
- Intended to make 12 large cookies or more on a smaller scale according to your preference (about 20 for me) -
2 1/4 cups walnut halves
2 3/4 cups confectioners' sugar
1/2 cup plus 3 tablespoons unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
4 large egg whites, at room temperature*
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
* I dialed down the amount of walnuts and sugar in the recipe. The original calls for 2 3/4 cups of walnut halves and 3 cups confectioners' sugar. Also note that you may not need to use all the egg whites, as per the instructions below.
Start by toasting the walnut halves. Preheat oven to 350 degrees and place walnuts in a baking sheet to bake for about 10 minutes until they are golden brown and fragrant. Let cool slightly and coarsely chop.
Lower oven temperature to 320 degrees. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.
In a large bowl (or the bowl of a stand mixer on low speed), whisk confectioners' sugar, cocoa powder (sift in if very lumpy), and salt together, followed by the walnuts. Gently whisk in (or on medium speed in the mixer) the vanilla extract and half the egg whites. Start with about half the egg whites and add more as necessary until the batter is just moistened. Switch over to a wooden spoon if necessary and stir until the batter is thick and scoopable like brownie batter. Do not overbeat or the batter will stiffen.
Spoon or scoop the batter into 12 large mounds (or 20 smaller ones) onto baking sheets lined with parchment paper. Bake for 14-16 minutes, rotating the pans halfway through the baking time. The cookies are done when they are shiny and the tops are lightly cracked. Remove the pans from the oven. Slide the parchment paper, with the cookies, on to wire racks to cool completely before removing. Store cookies in an airtight container for up to 3 days.
...And for those who want to play around, here's the other version: click for the second recipe and to read the interesting commentary.
It's true I am a bit naive when it comes to baking or any other kind of cooking, but am I the only one who has never heard of toasting walnuts before adding them to a recipe? I get the adding flavor thing. I've just never heard of toasting walnuts.
The recipe came from playingwithflour.blogspot.com
Flourless Chocolate-Walnut Cookies
Adapted from Francois Payard via New York Magazine*
- Intended to make 12 large cookies or more on a smaller scale according to your preference (about 20 for me) -
2 1/4 cups walnut halves
2 3/4 cups confectioners' sugar
1/2 cup plus 3 tablespoons unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
4 large egg whites, at room temperature*
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
* I dialed down the amount of walnuts and sugar in the recipe. The original calls for 2 3/4 cups of walnut halves and 3 cups confectioners' sugar. Also note that you may not need to use all the egg whites, as per the instructions below.
Start by toasting the walnut halves. Preheat oven to 350 degrees and place walnuts in a baking sheet to bake for about 10 minutes until they are golden brown and fragrant. Let cool slightly and coarsely chop.
Lower oven temperature to 320 degrees. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.
In a large bowl (or the bowl of a stand mixer on low speed), whisk confectioners' sugar, cocoa powder (sift in if very lumpy), and salt together, followed by the walnuts. Gently whisk in (or on medium speed in the mixer) the vanilla extract and half the egg whites. Start with about half the egg whites and add more as necessary until the batter is just moistened. Switch over to a wooden spoon if necessary and stir until the batter is thick and scoopable like brownie batter. Do not overbeat or the batter will stiffen.
Spoon or scoop the batter into 12 large mounds (or 20 smaller ones) onto baking sheets lined with parchment paper. Bake for 14-16 minutes, rotating the pans halfway through the baking time. The cookies are done when they are shiny and the tops are lightly cracked. Remove the pans from the oven. Slide the parchment paper, with the cookies, on to wire racks to cool completely before removing. Store cookies in an airtight container for up to 3 days.
...And for those who want to play around, here's the other version: click for the second recipe and to read the interesting commentary.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
No proof
She came to me
as I lay with you
on that golden afternoon.
Our bedroom
throbbed with her presence.
Like a rush,
a tall ocean wave,
She brought
all the love and memories
that only she could bring
The intensity of her presence
washed over me and through me
and I wept.
~kgm
as I lay with you
on that golden afternoon.
Our bedroom
throbbed with her presence.
Like a rush,
a tall ocean wave,
She brought
all the love and memories
that only she could bring
The intensity of her presence
washed over me and through me
and I wept.
~kgm
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Things I never tire of
Cherry trees blossoming
Watching birds and clouds
Feeling the sun on my head
Seeing children's smiles and hearing their laughter
Catching a glimpse of the first daffodils
Noticing how everyone's smiles broaden on a blue sky day
Watching the buds on bushes and trees swell and burst open
. . . maybe I should've just written "Spring". :>)
Sunday, April 1, 2012
The act of composing a letter
When I'm in the shower, my brain is often at it's most creative or ready to tackle problems. How about yours?
Here's what happened in my shower this morning:
I hate replaying troubling incidents in my life and have doubts about the value of doing so. But this morning, that's exactly what I found my brain doing.
Someone close to me, to whom I have extended a helping hand in the form of an open door and a seemingly endless capacity for listening, became someone I have little time or patience for. It happened one summer several years ago, during one of those "Mi casa es su casa" moments.
Over the years, we had come to accept the unpredictability of when this person would be around for dinner or not. We did our best at making sure there was enough to feed an extra diner. It's true, I enabled this behavior, but they were often broken or wounded when they landed on our doorstep. Our home was their refuge.
But that summer I mentioned? They brought their newest love to meet us all. I doubt I'll ever recover from losing their last love from our lives, but we opened our arms and welcomed the new one in. Sadly, instead of the new person suggesting that perhaps they should let us know the whats and whens of their comings and goings, it became two people to possibly feed and entertain or possibly not.
I don't remember details, but it wasn't a great summer for me before they arrived. The unpredictability made it worse. As well as the new person's desire to stay in the back bedroom whenever they were in our house. My irritability and anxiety began to ratchet up as the days went by. Especially when I heard from siblings they had visited up north and how delightful the new love was. What? Delightful? How do you know? All they do is hide when they're here.
And so that open door closed. And I festered for the next 4+ years. And siblings tried to carefully mend things between us. I wasn't interested. I was done.
That's how I found myself in the shower composing a letter. Not to the person close to me, but to their love. I wanted to offer up the possibility of starting over. What happened instead? I ended up with a better understanding of that summer and the closing of that open door.
That act of composing a letter was an interesting exercise in unraveling that relationship tangle. I recommend it.
Here's what happened in my shower this morning:
I hate replaying troubling incidents in my life and have doubts about the value of doing so. But this morning, that's exactly what I found my brain doing.
Someone close to me, to whom I have extended a helping hand in the form of an open door and a seemingly endless capacity for listening, became someone I have little time or patience for. It happened one summer several years ago, during one of those "Mi casa es su casa" moments.
Over the years, we had come to accept the unpredictability of when this person would be around for dinner or not. We did our best at making sure there was enough to feed an extra diner. It's true, I enabled this behavior, but they were often broken or wounded when they landed on our doorstep. Our home was their refuge.
But that summer I mentioned? They brought their newest love to meet us all. I doubt I'll ever recover from losing their last love from our lives, but we opened our arms and welcomed the new one in. Sadly, instead of the new person suggesting that perhaps they should let us know the whats and whens of their comings and goings, it became two people to possibly feed and entertain or possibly not.
I don't remember details, but it wasn't a great summer for me before they arrived. The unpredictability made it worse. As well as the new person's desire to stay in the back bedroom whenever they were in our house. My irritability and anxiety began to ratchet up as the days went by. Especially when I heard from siblings they had visited up north and how delightful the new love was. What? Delightful? How do you know? All they do is hide when they're here.
And so that open door closed. And I festered for the next 4+ years. And siblings tried to carefully mend things between us. I wasn't interested. I was done.
That's how I found myself in the shower composing a letter. Not to the person close to me, but to their love. I wanted to offer up the possibility of starting over. What happened instead? I ended up with a better understanding of that summer and the closing of that open door.
That act of composing a letter was an interesting exercise in unraveling that relationship tangle. I recommend it.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
"Wienie Viennese"
Not sure where we ever found this recipe. It ended up being a family favorite when the girls were young(er). I believe the original called for ham instead of wieners, but the person who gave me the recipe recommended the substitution. I cooked for small children, who was I to argue.
Must be one of the cheapest meals ever . . .
"Wienie Viennese"
1 package of your choice of wieners, sliced thin
Olive Oil
1/2 cup chopped onion
2 cups thinly sliced celery
1 can Cream of Chicken soup
2 Tbsp of white wine
1 1/2 tsp mustard
1/4 tsp dill
3/4 cup sour cream
Saute onion and celery in olive oil, until tender. Add sliced wienies and cook for 2 minutes more.
Stir in remaining ingredients except for sour cream. Add sour cream after simmering for 20 minutes.
Serve over rice.
Don't forget the vegetables . . . :)
Must be one of the cheapest meals ever . . .
"Wienie Viennese"
1 package of your choice of wieners, sliced thin
Olive Oil
1/2 cup chopped onion
2 cups thinly sliced celery
1 can Cream of Chicken soup
2 Tbsp of white wine
1 1/2 tsp mustard
1/4 tsp dill
3/4 cup sour cream
Saute onion and celery in olive oil, until tender. Add sliced wienies and cook for 2 minutes more.
Stir in remaining ingredients except for sour cream. Add sour cream after simmering for 20 minutes.
Serve over rice.
Don't forget the vegetables . . . :)
Monday, March 19, 2012
"A Sock and A Sock, A Shoe and A Shoe"
How far did this scene seep into my brain cells? Far enough that after all these years I still laugh over their discussion some mornings when I put on my shoes.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
No . . . REALLY
My first memory of hearing about chiropractors was sometime in the mid to late 60's. My Dad had back issues that were aggravated by the repetitive actions of pulling and re-positioning boards on a conveyor belt in the mill where he worked. Since I was still smallish, whenever his back was giving him problems he asked me to "walk" on his back. I don't know if he experienced an especially bad injury or if he made an appointment with a chiropractor on a recommendation from a doctor or friend. I do remember that he found relief and would talk about it to anyone who would listen.
My second memory, came from a branch of the family on my mother's side. They went through, what I like to call, their "chiropractor period". I have no idea how many years it lasted, but I'll never forget how they swore by their doctor for everything--even sore throats. And that's when I placed chiropractors in the column of things I approach with skepticism.
Then daughter Fran began to have severe debilitating migraines during her years at OSU. Friends brought her home out of concern a few times. We'd take her to urgent care, where the doctor would inject her with something that would knock her out for at least 12 hours. It worked, but she hated losing all that time. Then she began seeing a pediatric chiropractor in Philomath. She told Fran that the headaches were coming from muscle tension at the base of her skull. As long as she was seeing a chiropractor a few times a month, the migraines would stay away. Sure beat the heck out of the drugs.
After Fran graduated from college, her life came to a stand still. She went through 4 years of hellish undiagnosed abdominal pain. It took a year, but eventually, I was able to talk her into going to a local chiropractor who I had heard amazing things about from people I trusted. We're still not sure if her recovery is all due to him, or if she was helped by the injection from the 5th pain doctor she visited around the same time. I think it's a combination of the two.
Naturally, when I hurt my back last week, Fran asked, "you're going to go see Dr. Freeman, aren't you?" Ah! An excuse to meet this man I've heard so much about! How could I resist? I have never recovered so quickly. And let's just say, I'm no longer skepticism about chiropractors. Particularly this one.
My second memory, came from a branch of the family on my mother's side. They went through, what I like to call, their "chiropractor period". I have no idea how many years it lasted, but I'll never forget how they swore by their doctor for everything--even sore throats. And that's when I placed chiropractors in the column of things I approach with skepticism.
Then daughter Fran began to have severe debilitating migraines during her years at OSU. Friends brought her home out of concern a few times. We'd take her to urgent care, where the doctor would inject her with something that would knock her out for at least 12 hours. It worked, but she hated losing all that time. Then she began seeing a pediatric chiropractor in Philomath. She told Fran that the headaches were coming from muscle tension at the base of her skull. As long as she was seeing a chiropractor a few times a month, the migraines would stay away. Sure beat the heck out of the drugs.
After Fran graduated from college, her life came to a stand still. She went through 4 years of hellish undiagnosed abdominal pain. It took a year, but eventually, I was able to talk her into going to a local chiropractor who I had heard amazing things about from people I trusted. We're still not sure if her recovery is all due to him, or if she was helped by the injection from the 5th pain doctor she visited around the same time. I think it's a combination of the two.
Naturally, when I hurt my back last week, Fran asked, "you're going to go see Dr. Freeman, aren't you?" Ah! An excuse to meet this man I've heard so much about! How could I resist? I have never recovered so quickly. And let's just say, I'm no longer skepticism about chiropractors. Particularly this one.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Tone-ism
This summer will mark my fourth year with hearing aides. What's my favorite part of this? I'll be eligible for a new set. Yahoo! Very exciting in my book. Maybe I'm overly optimistic, but I'm hoping for even better amplification and sound quality. The technology continues to improve. Plus with a few years of wearing experience, I have a better idea of what to ask for next time around.
It's not all warm fuzzy news. Though my hearing aides have been an incredible help, they're not full-proof. There are still situations I have problems with--crowds being the main one. But even in a crowd there are some people's voices I can hear and understand. It has to do with their tone, speed of speech and enunciation. And of course proximity helps, too.
I''m ashamed to admit this, but I avoid conversations with people whose voices are difficult for me to hear. There are only so many times I can say, "I beg your pardon?", "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you" or "could you say that again?". And I'm sure the person I have trouble hearing wonders what that expression on my face is. I haven't seen the expression, but I'm guessing it's a blank look as I will the sounds that came from your mouth to go reassemble themselves into sentences in my brain.
So, you see, it's not because I don't like you or that I don't enjoy your company. As a matter of fact, I'm not always aware that I'm doing the avoiding. But it's all about the hearing. Huh, I guess it's true-- I'm guilty of tone-ism.
It's not all warm fuzzy news. Though my hearing aides have been an incredible help, they're not full-proof. There are still situations I have problems with--crowds being the main one. But even in a crowd there are some people's voices I can hear and understand. It has to do with their tone, speed of speech and enunciation. And of course proximity helps, too.
I''m ashamed to admit this, but I avoid conversations with people whose voices are difficult for me to hear. There are only so many times I can say, "I beg your pardon?", "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you" or "could you say that again?". And I'm sure the person I have trouble hearing wonders what that expression on my face is. I haven't seen the expression, but I'm guessing it's a blank look as I will the sounds that came from your mouth to go reassemble themselves into sentences in my brain.
So, you see, it's not because I don't like you or that I don't enjoy your company. As a matter of fact, I'm not always aware that I'm doing the avoiding. But it's all about the hearing. Huh, I guess it's true-- I'm guilty of tone-ism.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Carolyn Hax--Crap Tsunami
"Crap tsunami, well said. It offers an answer, too: What can you do except scramble to the safest possible
place and wait it out?
Since sewage isn’t actually lapping at your foundation (at least, not yet!), you can get a little more creative in the way you define “safest possible place.” I can’t say this enough: Strip your life of everything that either doesn’t matter or can wait for later. Spare from the ax one or two activities that have a renewing effect on you, and make them your refuge. Spend your remaining energy on giving and receiving love from those whose time is running out.
Also, take faultless care of yourself, based on the holistic trinity of sleep, exercise and healthy diet.
For your emotional state during this time, I offer two of the most enduringly useful pieces of advice I’ve gotten from people during my worst times:
1. Find a steeple to chase — i.e., use a fixed point in the distance as the thing that keeps you from losing yourself and keeps you moving toward a goal. It can just be, “Take great care of my mom,” or, “Stay close to my spouse/partner/best friend,” or, “Make it to my annual beach week.”
2. Know that everything external eventually passes. That includes bad times, good times, bulls, bears and every one of us.
In other words, steady yourself, then trust and live by the laws of change."~Carolyn Hax
Since sewage isn’t actually lapping at your foundation (at least, not yet!), you can get a little more creative in the way you define “safest possible place.” I can’t say this enough: Strip your life of everything that either doesn’t matter or can wait for later. Spare from the ax one or two activities that have a renewing effect on you, and make them your refuge. Spend your remaining energy on giving and receiving love from those whose time is running out.
Also, take faultless care of yourself, based on the holistic trinity of sleep, exercise and healthy diet.
For your emotional state during this time, I offer two of the most enduringly useful pieces of advice I’ve gotten from people during my worst times:
1. Find a steeple to chase — i.e., use a fixed point in the distance as the thing that keeps you from losing yourself and keeps you moving toward a goal. It can just be, “Take great care of my mom,” or, “Stay close to my spouse/partner/best friend,” or, “Make it to my annual beach week.”
2. Know that everything external eventually passes. That includes bad times, good times, bulls, bears and every one of us.
In other words, steady yourself, then trust and live by the laws of change."~Carolyn Hax
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
They Say the Oregon Rain . . .
I won't go into the historic details of the story of this favorite song from my teen years. Other folks have already covered it (very well) here and here and here.
Often (on a rainy day) in the Spring and Autumn I'm transported back to the time spent cruising around with my buds in crime, with 62 KGW AM blaring on the car radio. We all thought we harmonized beautifully and nailed those high notes in the lonely and emotional refrain. (Like one of the chroniclers in the links above, I do wonder why a movie was never made. Great material for an indie!)
Often (on a rainy day) in the Spring and Autumn I'm transported back to the time spent cruising around with my buds in crime, with 62 KGW AM blaring on the car radio. We all thought we harmonized beautifully and nailed those high notes in the lonely and emotional refrain. (Like one of the chroniclers in the links above, I do wonder why a movie was never made. Great material for an indie!)
They say the Oregon rain will get you down,
But I hunger for the freshness of its sound
The wind, the sun, the things that I have known before,
Now seem like faded ghosts, like shadows on the floor
I live in Oregon, Oregon's my home ...
I love the trees, the hills, the places I have roamed ...
I long to be there, I long to be there with my own kind!
Let me roam endless hours on my own ...
Take me home, back to where green trees grow ...
I feel so lonely and forgotten in this place ...
I'm losing hope, my mind is troubled by disgrace ...
I live in Oregon, Oregon's my home ...
I love the trees, the hills, the places I have roamed ...
I long to be there, I long to be there with my own kind!
I've painted pictures on the blank walls of my cell ...
I've walked through countless dreams no mortal words can tell
I feel how lonely and forgotten I could be ...
My heart is crying out to those who hold the key ...
I live in Oregon, Oregon's my home ...
I love the trees, the hills, the places I have roamed ...
I long to be there, I long to be there with my own kind!
I long to be there, I long to be there with my own kind!
{refrain} I can't go home ...
~"Blackhawk County" 1974 Monmouth
Friday, February 3, 2012
Why do you ask?
Someone at work today, who rarely shows any interest in my private life, began asking question after question. My spidey senses were activated and I felt like I was their assignment.
Why did this send an alert to my brain? I had a high school acquaintance who would regularly "interview" me (I thought she was chatting me up and yes, I spilled my guts). Later I'd discover that she had traded my information like currency all over the school. As a result, I'm a fairly private person depending on the share level of our relationship.
Maybe it makes me an odd duck, but I learned long ago that we go to work to do our best and earn a living--not to make life long friends. If I spent my time being social, I'd never keep my focus or get anything done. I'm either in drive or neutral.
So now, unfortunately, I'm on alert and waiting for a shoe to drop. Oh how I hate that feeling . . .
Why did this send an alert to my brain? I had a high school acquaintance who would regularly "interview" me (I thought she was chatting me up and yes, I spilled my guts). Later I'd discover that she had traded my information like currency all over the school. As a result, I'm a fairly private person depending on the share level of our relationship.
Maybe it makes me an odd duck, but I learned long ago that we go to work to do our best and earn a living--not to make life long friends. If I spent my time being social, I'd never keep my focus or get anything done. I'm either in drive or neutral.
So now, unfortunately, I'm on alert and waiting for a shoe to drop. Oh how I hate that feeling . . .
Friday, January 20, 2012
Salemites and Twitter
"How high's the water, papa?"
The last time the creeks and rivers spilled over their banks in Salem (1996), folks in our neighborhood were out and about walking and talking--especially to the police officer keeping watch near the group of houses threatening to slide down beside Heath St. I remember run-off from the hillside above our house rushing through our front and back yards. I happened to walk outside in time to rescue a neighbor's small Koi, who had been displaced by the moving water.
Once again, the waters are rising and once again we watch as they rise into and up to the edge of area homes, while N's and my only problem is trying to figure out where the detours are to get to our destinations.
In 1996, Twitter and my electronic connection to local Salemites didn't exist. Except for observing what was happening to our neighbors, I didn't have that knowledge of what local individuals were going through and how others were helping.
Twitter has changed that. This time around I'm watching and reading how people are reaching out to those who are knee deep in the water--and (more importantly) who is knee deep. This new method of receiving information is both anxiety producing and heart warming.
Now that I'm sitting here typing this, I can see the clean, efficient beauty of social media in a situation like this. Connecting people, illuminating needs with the ability to instantly respond.
Genius.
The last time the creeks and rivers spilled over their banks in Salem (1996), folks in our neighborhood were out and about walking and talking--especially to the police officer keeping watch near the group of houses threatening to slide down beside Heath St. I remember run-off from the hillside above our house rushing through our front and back yards. I happened to walk outside in time to rescue a neighbor's small Koi, who had been displaced by the moving water.
In 1996, Twitter and my electronic connection to local Salemites didn't exist. Except for observing what was happening to our neighbors, I didn't have that knowledge of what local individuals were going through and how others were helping.
Twitter has changed that. This time around I'm watching and reading how people are reaching out to those who are knee deep in the water--and (more importantly) who is knee deep. This new method of receiving information is both anxiety producing and heart warming.
Now that I'm sitting here typing this, I can see the clean, efficient beauty of social media in a situation like this. Connecting people, illuminating needs with the ability to instantly respond.
Genius.
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