This quote has been making the rounds with my friends on Facebook lately:
Depending on who you ask, the English language has something like half a million to a million words in it. Yet, the average English speakers knows maybe ten or twenty thousand from what I have read. Given the richness of what we have available to use, this is rather pitiful.
Now, I don't pretend to be a wordsmith. I come across words I don't know rather often. But there are times when I am thankful for the variety of words that I do know.
Very late yesterday afternoon, the snow was falling thickly as the children played outside. The dim bit of light that remained in the day was not afternoon, evening or dusk. There was a word that fit the feel of the moment, one I see in books, but no one ever actually uses it.
Yesterday, I saw the gloaming.
I have read a few articles over the last few months on the Facebook Status Update. The gist of the articles is the the status update has become the new holiday letter - a place for bragging and "how good my life is" news.
I disagree.
For me, the status update is a window into a moment in a friend's life. The kinds of things that people chose to enter in that box tell me a lot about who they are. Personally, I like to try to find something positive in every day. If I reach the end of a day and cannot look back to find one thing that makes me smile, then my day has been pretty wretched indeed. My status updates try to glean out these gems from my day. The taste of a latte and chocolate scone when I really needed them. The joy of children and bubble wrap. The steamy good feeling of cooking up food for an evening with friends. The absurdity of walking in a lead mine in heels.
Writing about the good in our lives or the funny little quirky things is not false or a form of one-upmanship. It is about finding joy and humor in the million little things that make up every day of our lives.
Yesterday morning, Vincent came bouncing in searching for his baseball mitt and a ball, only to come back inside a few minutes later moping along about as low as possible. His friend changed his mind about playing catch, and Vincent was very sad. He went out to the backyard, where Luis was cleaning out his car.
A few minutes later, I glanced out the back window, and I saw Vincent glowing again. Luis was playing catch with him, hurt thumb and all.
We worry about what a child will become tomorrow, yet we forget that he is someone today. ~Stacia Tauscher
I am a little freaked out right now. I was reading some news articles online with Simon on my lap, when he pointed to a photo of a woman on the screen and said "She die. Mama, no die, no die." The woman in the photo was killed Saturday evening when she was hit by a train. I asked him if the woman died, and he replied "She die, she die. That scary."
Creepy strange.
Last year I was lamenting the fact that our holiday meals are sometimes so steeped in tradition that I am afraid to mess with the menus too much lest I get a lot of flack from our families. I played around with a couple side dishes at last year's Thanksgiving menu. Imagine my surprise when, a couple of days ago, my mother asked if I was going to make one of those experiments again this year, a squash with coconut milk dish. This dish had a few raised eyebrows last year. I mean really, a dish with coconut milk at my extended family's German table? It was funny.
So, the coconut milk and squash dish is here to stay for a year or two. This year, I am taking out the apple pie and putting in a gingerbread-pumpkin trifle that I found in the latest issue of Gourmet. I am going to switch up the green vegetable too, but I have not figured that one out yet. I might even play around with the turkey, using a different glaze.
I still think that I had better stick with trying different stuffing recipes on other days though. Mom just would not understand if I replaced Grandma's recipe with another on a holiday.
So the kids were outside today, and Vincent was being a bit grumpy. Abigail decided to send him into the house because of his behaviour. He did not want to go. She walked him back to the door, when all of a sudden he ran ahead. The little stinker got to the door before her, opened it up, flipped the lock and closed the door again.
He locked them all outside so that he would not be able to be sent inside.
He is so not allowed to play outside for the rest of the day, but honestly, I am secretly laughing so hard over his ingenuity.
I sit here holding a sleeping Simon in my arms. He has been napping for about an hour now, snuggled up here.
There are a million things I need to do. My computer work is long finished. Yet here I sit because I know that this is my last baby to snuggle as he sleeps. Too soon he will be too big for this. 
Sometimes it is the simplest things that make people feel special.
I know how important time is. This year, Luis finally gave me a Mother's Day that was special. We did nothing more than walk around in downtown Madison, get lattes at the Union, sit on library mall and listen to the drumming circle. What made it special was it was spending time doing what I wanted.
Abigail loves when her one uncle takes her on a date, and last year was radiant after her her other uncle finally took her shopping. Vincent was glowing after Luis took him to the car wash recently. They painted the camper, went to Farm & Fleet, ate dinner at Burger King. Nothing too special, but it was special because it was focused time for Vincent. He wore that Burger King crown for three days. Isabella especially craves time. If she is having a difficult week, simply taking her to the office with one of us makes a world of difference. She sits quietly and does her school, yet she soaks up energy of being alone with me or with Luis.
I used to sit and play cards for hours with my grandma. As a child, she gave me the time and quiet attention I needed, and later in her elderly years, playing crazy eights with her gave her what she needed. Sitting with my grandpa in the last years of his life was special. We didn't talk much, but what mattered was the fact that we were there side by side on the sofa and I was focused on him as much as he was on me.
Time and attention are the most precious gifts we have to give. I have been thinking of that because of the elderly man we met while at a park this weekend. We were camping, and we stopped at the Lion's Park in Lena for the kids to play for a while. We weren't there five minutes when I noticed a very elderly man watching the kids play. He edged closer and closer, until he was within talking distance. We talked with him, truly listened to what he was saying. We had no clue who he was, but I now know all about his youngest grandson's struggles with cancer, his red-headed great grandchild, his upcoming trip to visit his sister, and that his wife suffered from Alzheimer's. I will likely never see him again, but the time I spent listening to him and talking with him made a difference in his day and mine.
I thought I was only being kind to him at the time, but the peaceful feeling I gained from listening has lasted for days. It was a gift that went both ways.
I ducked into Cafe Claudeen today on a whim to pick up a biscotti, part of my 3/50 pledge. Once there, I ended up talking with Claudia and Kareesa for almost an hour. This is not the first time I have done that, and I sincerely hope it is not the last. One of my favorite parts about patronizing the local independent businesses is the lovely people it brings into my life. After talking with Claudia and Kareesa, I am often reminded of this saying:
Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. ~Leo Buscaglia
There is a calm, kind aura around them, a smile and a willingness to set aside what they are doing to simply talk. It is one of the things that makes me loving going into their cafe so much.
I have a nugget of a dream forming deep inside of me. Oh who am I kidding, I've had the dream for a while, but it has laid dormant deep inside there. A crack of sunshine has hit it and a little water has sprinkled on it until now the shoots contemplate breaking the surface.
Friends compliment my baked goods and breads all the time. Are they good enough? Could I sell them?
Never have I had a place bake commercially. A new kitchen has opened, and the owner will rent time to others.
Do I have the time at this stage of my life to tackle something like this? Do I have the desire? I do not know the answer to these questions yet.
The little dream sits still, beneath the surface. Maybe. Someday. Maybe.
I'm up far too late this evening, listening to the sounds of my family sleeping as the rain gently falls outside.
I have not been writing here lately. I could blame the fact that my work blog takes up much of my writing inspiration or that status updates on facebook steal the fodder for these posts, but neither is true.
I have composed many a post in my head over the weeks of this summer, but not taken the time to type them out. Consequently, when I read back over these months a few years down the road, there will be a gaping hole, like the one that stretches from back before Simon's birth. I will have missed out on the memories of things like the butternut squash plants that are on a mission to over take the garden, and Simon's decision to move to his own bed earlier this summer. Not recorded are things like Abigail's request to start wearing make up as she grows into a simply incredible young woman and Isabella's self-awareness as she requested to take a reading classes in summer school this year. I may not remember feeling crushed under stress of time and obligations this summer or the way that Vincent is very slowly beginning to learning to cope with young friendships.
I have been lazy, and I will regret not recording those thoughts. This blog is not just a shout into cyberspace, but more like a journal that I am okay with others reading. As a child, I wondered why my grandmother wrote in a journal daily, often just a few sentences about the weather, visits or gardening. I understand now. We write to remember. Those few sentences I wrote years ago help me to remember things like Vincent trying to pay me for letting him take laundry off the line or learning the hard way never to use anything other than a pie pumpkin in my baking. I can go back and stun myself with wisdom that had slipped my mind, this this thought I typed out nearly six years ago about Isabella:
Isabella is a little me in so many ways: intense, withdrawn, cautious, tenacious, awkward, insecure, not to mention that she looks just like me. It's like to effectively parent her, I need to parent myself and calm my tendencies to do the same things she does before I can react to her without both of us going into intense mode.
This is still so true, and it is something I need to remember more often.
I should take the time more often to record a few thoughts here.
Have you ever seen the movie One Hundred One Dalmatians? One my favorite characters has always been Rolly. He is little puppy who is perpetually hungry, saying in a charming little English accent things like "I'm hungry, Mother" "I'm not sleepy. I'm hungry", and "But I am. I'm so hungry I could eat a whole elephant."
Ever since Isabella's toddler years, when she opens the snack cupboard shortly after a meal and I question what she is doing because we just ate, she will reply "But I'm hungry mama." It makes me think of Rolly every time.
The other day, she did it again. Then she stopped and giggled. She told me that when she says that, she sound like the little dalmatian who is always hungry.
I love that she figured out all on her own something that has been my private little giggle for years.
So, I was listening to a program talking about health care in the US. It was being compared and contrasted to the Canadian system. Some facts were touted - the Canadians have a longer life expectancy, lower infant mortality rate, spend less than half of what we do, they are facing an expected doctor shortage, the long waits for elective or specialist care. The terrible keyword "medical rationing" was used.
Do people really think we don't have medical rationing in the US? We do, but it is rationed out by socio-economic status instead of by the government rationing across the board.
If you have money, you can get whatever care you want. I am guessing that is probably true in Canada too, by the way.
If someone makes too much to have government health care, but has poor private insurance, their care is rationed. I have been there. No dentistry care for years due to financial reasons, both as a child and as an adult. Not going to the doctor for certain things because we didn't have the money. I have friends who have to think long and hard about whether something warrants a doctor visit for their children because of the expense involved in an after-hours emergency room visit.
This is rationing, we just don't call it that.
I might question whether extreme treatments are valid in every case and support medical rationing to some degree, but that is beside the point. The point is that by no providing adequate medical coverage to all of our citizens, we are creating a system that requires some people to either abuse the system (depends on your perspective, but I have to say that some of those people who call an ambulance to get to the hospital for non-emergency care are doing so because they have no other way to get there) or for people to opt-out because they don't want to bankrupt their families.
This is still a form of medical rationing in my opinion.
Look at Isabella swimming! We went to Lake Le-Aqua-Na and my darling princess had no fears at all of swimming around. Proud mama.
Vincent was all about helping make homemade ice cream at the Reunion. He enjoyed every bite.
Abigail caught a stray kitten and managed to hold it for a little while. She was so proud of herself. The kids worked together for quite a while to catch the kitten, but Abigail was the only one who managed to hold it.
Simon, looking very thoughtful as he hung out in the greenhouse at Inn Serendipity with Lisa and the adults as they talked.
Found this gem on Storypeople today. Somehow it summed up what I have been feeling lately:
I finally got to exactly where I wanted to be, she said, so why won't all these growth experiences go away & leave me alone?
I haven't done a random post in while.
~ Does it make me a freak that I am completely unaffected by the deaths of Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson? Death is part of life, and I didn't know them personally. Famous people dying and being mourned by so many who never truly knew them feels odd to me. Maybe I am too icy on somethings.
~ Would you use a $1 off coupon at your farmers market? There was one in our paper. I cut it out and intend to use it, but Luis is astonished. There is a minimum $5 purchase with it, and I almost never spend more than $2-3 with one vendor, so whomever I buy from will actually end up with an extra dollar or two after I use the coupon. Or am I just rationalizing and being cheap?
~ Do you ever just tear up with love for your kids? Please, let me be the parent these amazing souls deserve.
~ I want a good set of popsicle molds, like Tupperware made when we were kids. I want to be able to make HFCS-free popsicles for the aforementioned amazing souls.
I am sitting outside listening to the birds and enjoying the cool morning air. I am watching a man spray poison on the weeds in the beds around his house. Instead of taking an hour to weed (there are not that many weeds, and it really would be less than an hour's work), he is spending ten minutes poisoning the plants, poisoning our earth, poisoning our water supply.
That feels so very wrong to me.
Conversation at the market a week ago Saturday:
Me: Do you have any rosemary?
Plant Lady: No, my husband did not pack any herbs today.
Conversation this Saturday:
Me: (walking up to the plant lady's stall)
Plant Lady: Oh, I have that rosemary for you this week! I told my husband he had to pack herbs this time.
It is the little extra attention to service that make buying direct from independent people so much nice.
Time for some more photos...
The kids had a lot of fun playing on Bascom Hill when we were there a few weeks ago.
Vincent being goofy at the top on Bascom Hill.
We went to the Brodhead Airport for breakfast with Peter and Mary on a breezy morning.
The kids have been having a great time in the garden. Notice my little baldie. He wanted a short haircut for summer.
Simon enjoyed harvesting radishes too.
I took this one at the farmers market this week, and I love the way it turned out.
Our pear trees have fruit on them this year! Hurray!
I have come to the conclusion that there was a food conspiracy that took place over the last half century.
Power was taken away from the people of the US and given to the processed food industries. It was a slow process, and it was probably not planned out long term, at least in the beginning. I'm guessing it started with convenience, but the long term event was a considerable loss of our culinary cultural knowledge.
I never questioned most of the things I bought until Isabella and Vincent started having problems after consuming foods with corn syrup in them. That stuff is insidious. The number of foods with corn syrup is insane, and in order to allow them to eat, I had to learn to cook foods that I had never even considered making myself before. Syrup. Graham crackers. Marshmallows. Hamburger buns. Ketchup.
Sure, I could have bought most of these things without the corn syrup in them, but the price on the natural, organic processed verions is wicked high. Sorry, I am not going to pay $5 a box for crackers or $8 for a couple of marshmallows.
So, gentle reader (channeling Bronte from Jane Eyre there), should you have the desire to make your own staple foods, I promise you that they are actually very easy to do. Insanely easy.
Pancake Syrup:
3 c sugar
3 c water
a glug of molasses, vanilla or other flavoring agent
Boil about 15 minutes or so until thickened. Cool and pour into a jar. Keep in the fridge. I'm sure there is a technical temperature to heat to for the proper thickness, but I can never find the candy thermometer, so I just go until it looks good. Yes, once I cooked it too long and it crystalized and a couple of time I didn't cook it quite long enough and it was thin. 95% of the time, though, I get perfect syrup with zero effort and no nasty corn syrup in it.
Marshmallows:
I like this recipe. It is so easy you will fall over yourself for having never made marshmallows before. I mean really, mix water and gelatin in a bowl. Boil some water and sugar on the stove. Dump them all together and let your mixer do its thing for the next 20 minutes. How easy is that? It roasts nicely for a s'more and it makes a good rice krispie bar too.
Graham Crackers:
There a lot of recipes on line. I like this one from Vegan Cupcakes take over the World. You can be eating homemade crackers in less than 30 minutes from the time you start. They are easy to roll out, even if you are like me and don't follow the insructions perfectly. I generall just roll them, square out the edges and cut with my bench knife to the size instead of rolling them out twice for perfectly shaped crackers like the recipe calls for, but I'm lazy that way.
Mustard:
Mustard seeds, check. Water, vinegar, bit of sugar, check. Puree in a food processor and you have mustard. Okay, there is a day or two for soaking the seeds in there, but really, mustard is easy peasy.
Ketchup:
Recipes abound for this one, so have fun finding what fits your preferances. Basic recipe is tomatoes, onion, garlic, little bit of oil, some spices, brown sugar and vinegar. Puree, cook until it as thick as you like.
It is rather funny how easy making your own food is. Mac and cheese, hamburger helper type foods, taco seasoning mix - these are not hard foods to make. Once we start thinking outside of the processed food aisle, it is interesting how perspective changes.
Yes, he put the milk into the cereal container. Good gravy. Let's just say that all of the kids had a quick snack of cereal before it was mush. That was a brand new box of cereal that I had just put into the container the afternoon before too.
Breaking News:
Isabella is reading for pleasure! Daily!
I have actually had to tell her to put the book down in order to do something.
Given her struggles and the fact that she is so into visual images like Luis, I was not sure that this day would ever come. This is so cool.
Each season has its own type of rain.
The rain of summer has fat drops they plop down, cooling as they fall.
The rain of fall slices down from the sky, stripping the trees of their leaves, taking the oranges and crimson away, leaving us with brown and getting us ready for the stark look of winter.
Today we have a spring rain, steadily drenching. Suddenly, everything is brighter than it was a week ago. The soil is blacker. The buds burst into flashes of light green. The brown patches of grass turn emerald. My little onion sets have miniature stalks poking out of the garden beds.
Welcome back, spring.
So, obviously I am big fan of eating local. No surprise to anyone reading this on a regular basis.
With all of the food safety scares in recent years and months, I suspect that more and more people will be seeing the importance of local food, buying direct.
Those big national food conglomerates buy foodstuffs from hundreds of sources. They mix foods of various origin (including international usually without labeling nation of origin). They process, package and distribute throughout the nation. It is efficient from a cheap oil, processed food standpoint. From a resources standpoint, it is extremely wasteful. The materials used in transportation and packaging represent waste. There is spoilage and a decrease in nutritional value of the foods that have to be picked in California and Texas, processed in Mississippi and delivered to Vermont and Montana. When situations like the salmonella poisonings happen, the amount of waste is beyond comprehension. Millions of pounds of food become suspect and tainted by association. Maybe it was a couple of hundred of pounds of pistachios that actually had salmonella. Because they were mixed and blended without regard, we have no way of knowing how many were tainted and where they may be. As a result, over a million pounds of nuts are being recalled. That is waste on a monumental scale.
If I buy spinach from a local source*, I can be reasonably certain that I know how it was grown and harvested. If I grow it myself, I can guarantee it is free from salmonella.
If I buy foods from a source that sticks with a few sources for food, I can be more confident that my food is secure. From a food safety standpoint, it only makes sense to east local, buy direct.
Our food safety increased for decades, but as food supply chains have spiderwebbed our nation, growing longer and longer, this is no longer the case. Our food safety has not increased in the last three years, and in my opinion, an argument could be made for stating that is decreasing. Without saying so directly, the message from the New York Times article is pretty clear. Eat local. Buy directly as possible.
I'm not a hundred mile locavore. I love me some coffee beans and chocolate, not to mention those avocados I treat myself to sometimes. However, I am aware of the source of my foods. I'm not fooling myself into thinking that the strawberries in the grocery store in December were grown in a greenhouse in Wisconsin or were picked two days ago on a small family farm in South America, package carefully and flown directly to my store for the bargain price of $3 per pound. Awareness and eduction about our basic needs is vital.
Nothing is more basic than food.
Eat local. Buy direct.
*And if you are in the Green County area and have any desire to begin a food based microbusiness of any sort, help a new Community Kitchen/Buy Local Initiative get off the ground. Go to Green County Kitchen and fill out the survey. Spread the word!
Dear Children of Mine:
Please for the love of everything that is holy, stop fighting, bickering, tattle telling, grumbling and picking on each other. Forever would be nice, but hey, I'd take one day of peace. That is all.
Love,
your Mama, who is on her last nerve
I was not thrilled to wake up this morning to another layer of white covering the ground. Most of it has already melted off, but still, the mere fact that it was here means spring is still being held at bay by winter.
I am so ready for little sprouts poking through the earth. I am ready to play in the gardens, plant veggies for the year, harvest some rhubarb. I want asparagus, spinach and spring greens.
Winter, you run along now. We will see you again in six or seven months.
First a howling blizzard woke us,
Then the rain came down to soak us,
And now before the eye can focus -
Crocus.
~Lilja Rogers
I read this tonight on Story People, and it touched me.
I had a dream & I heard music & there were children standing around, but no one was dancing. I asked a little girl, why not? & she said they didn't know how, or maybe they used to but they forgot & so I started to hop up & down & the children asked me, Is that dancing? & I laughed & said, no, that's hopping, but at least it's a start & soon everyone was hopping & laughing & it didn't matter any more that no one was dancing.
I am getting ready to put aside something that has been a fixture in our home for the last eleven years. How strange it will feel to fully reclaim this space.
Good bye, diaper pail.
Simon has been using the potty consistently even when wearing clothes. Yes, we are big fans of the "let 'em go bottomless" school of potty training. It works, but then they have to learn to use the potty while wearing clothing too, and Simon is doing great.
I thought that putting aside the diapers forever in our household would be a bittersweet milestone, but I have to say that it is not. Maybe I'll feel a bit verklempt when I get around to packing up the diapers themselves, but for now, I am thrilled. No more diaper changes and diaper bags. Forever.
I wonder what other milestones will feel this way as Simon ages?
Luis and I took a ballroom dance class back in our college years. It was a lovely experience except for one thing: the instructor insisted that we could not focus on learning how to dance together. She said we must dance with other partners because that is the way life is.
She was wrong. I could count on one hand the number of times I have danced with another man as an adult woman. I'd bet all of those times were with my own father. I am sure she thought college romance wouldn't last, and that she was doing a good thing by teaching us to dance with others, but what she did instead was take some of the joy and beauty out of dance for us.
Over the years, I have occasionally mentioned to Luis that I would like to take another dance class with him. When the local theater guild started a dance class for the bargain price of $10 per person for five classes, he signed us up.
What a joy it has been to relearn to dance with my husband. Sure, he is usually a half beat off and I often mess up on the footing after spins, but when we dance and he looks at me...
I remember why I fell in love.
To watch us dance is to hear our hearts speak. ~Hopi Indian Saying
Think about it:
~ Many other developed countries tax gas at a rate of $2-4 per gallon. We tax it at less than 55 cents per gallon in most states.
~ Levi's says it take 919 gallons of water to create one pair of 501 blue jeans. That is to grow the cotton, create and dye the cloth, and put the finish on. Good news: they are starting to recycle the water more, up to 70-80%. They are also encouraging consumers to wash only when dirty and encouraging line drying. Kudos to them for their changes.
Rambling today:
~ China has better fuel efficiency standards for their cars than we do. They banned plastic bags. Why can't we?
~ Starting broccoli seeds this weekend. Only a week late.
~ I made a fantastic sweet and sour pork this week with pork from my friend Paula at Caulpris Farms. They are local, keep their pigs on dirt, and raise a very tasty animal.
~ I am starting to see the appeal of texting.
~ I am signed up for an event in March that I really do not want to go to. It cost $45 and I do not think I can get a refund.
~ *fingers crossed* That is all I'm going to say about that one. Just cross your for me today too, okay?
~ Has anyone else taken the volunteering challenge for 2009? I am putting in about 12-15 hours a month in volunteer services divided amongst four different organizations, and it is so invigorating.
You know how I was talking about how great things were going with school and the kids?
I realized that the reason school was going so well was because Isabella was cheating on all of her work. This is why she was getting it done so quickly, so perfectly, why she was working so great only when she was in another room "free from distractions."
Damn.
I am feeling very quotey lately...
[Breadbaking is] one of those almost hypnotic businesses, like a dance from some ancient ceremony. It leaves you filled with one of the world's sweetest smells... there is no chiropractic treatment, no Yoga exercise, no hour of meditation in a music-throbbing chapel, that will leave you emptier of bad thoughts than this homely ceremony of making bread. ~M.F.K. Fisher, The Art of Eating
This is one reason I love to make bread.
I find life rather full of odd coincidences. Too full.
Yesterday, I was flipping through some photo folders on my computer when I saw the shot of the tomatoes I featured here late late summer. They looked so good. I have not had fresh tomatoes since our wintering supply ran out in mid-December. Fresh tomatoes will not reappear on our plates here until the first harvest sometimes in July, an event I eagerly anticipate every year. I put the tomato photo up on Facebook as my profile picture along with a comment about missing tomatoes and looking forward to winter's end. I know I could just buy some, but they never taste right when from a grocery store, so I have not done that in years. It is so tempting when I am in Brennan's and the little stacks of tomatoes look so appealing, though.
Today, I opened up my new issue of Gourmet. There was a photo of a worker picking tomatoes in the "Politics of the Plate" section. The article was titled "The Price of Tomatoes: if you have eaten a tomato this winter, it might well have been picked by a person who lives in virtual slavery". Shocking statement.
The article details conditions in the United States, not some Latin American or Third World country. It talks about cases in Florida. Florida. Men and women held in appalling conditions of involuntary servitude. People who are in our country illegally, but still people. People who may work all day to pick up to a ton of green, hard tomatoes for about $50, but who are held in slavery and company store conditions of spiraling debt. Over 1,000 people freed by law enforcement officials since 1997; that is only the 1,000 we know about.
To quote the article:
But when asked if it is reasonable to assume that an American who has eaten a fresh tomato from a grocery story or food service company during the winter has eaten a fruit picked by the hand of a slave, Malloy said, "It is not an assumption. It is a fact."
Suddenly the thought of waiting months to taste a fresh tomato again seems a lot more acceptable.
For Darla this time, here is that hot fudge sauce recipe.
Chocolate Sauce
1/2 c butter
2 squares unsweetened chocolate
2 c sugar
1 c light cream or evaporated milk*
1/2 c light corn syrup **
1 tsp vanilla
Melt butter and chocolate. Add sugar, cream, corn syrup and vanilla. Bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Boil 1 1/2 minutes.*** Remove from heat.
Makes about 3.5 cups. Serve warm or cold.
*I always use evaporated milk. And since a can of evaporated milk is about 1 1/2 cups, I usually make 1 1/2 batches of the syrup at a time because otherwise what else am I going to do with 4 ounces of evaporated milk? I could probably come up with something, but it is just easier to make an extra half batch. The kids gobble this down on their pancakes, so that extra bit makes sure I get some for my mochas. And yes, I let the kids put this chocolate syrup on their pancakes.
**Okay, I have never actually used the corn syrup in the recipe. I usually toss in a little extra sugar to compensate for it, but I rarely measure the extra. It is probably about 1/4 c or so.
***The longer you boil, the thicker and fudgier the syrup is. I usually try for a scant 1 1/4 minutes if I want it pourable, 1 1/2 or 2 minutes if I want to be able to just eat it with a spoon.
I made a very scrumptious soup last night, and I am putting the recipe here to remind myself of it in the future.
Lentil Soup
2 leeks, sliced
1 small onion, diced
2 carrots, sliced
2 red potatoes, diced small
about 2.5 cups red lentils
8 cups stock (I used beef, but turkey or chicken would be good)
4 slices of bacon
2 smoked Polish sausage
Saute leeks, onions and carrots in a pot in 1-2 T olive oil until they have nice golden color. Be patient; this will take about 15 minutes or so. When you think it is done, give it another 2 minutes. Run two cloves of garlic through the press and add it to the veggie mix when they are starting to just turn golden.
Add just a little stock to cool down the pan a bit and thicken up the nice leek fibers for a minute, then add the remaining stock, lentils and potatoes. Simmer until lentils and potatoes are soft. This will take about 30 minutes. Salt and pepper to taste. I threw in about a tsp of salt and four or five cranks on the pepper mill.
While the soup simmers, fry the bacon until crisp. Cool, crumble and add to the soup. Add about 2 spoonfuls of the bacon grease to the soup too. Slice the sausage. Fry it in the remaining bacon grease until hot. Add to the soup a few minutes before serving.
Normally, when making lentil soup, I would puree part of it, but did not do that this time. Just be sure to cook that soup until the lentils are really soft and the potatoes essentially melt away.
Lisa, my dear, ask and you shall receive.
Double Chocolate Scones
2 c flour
1/2 c sugar
1/3 c dutch process cocoa
1 tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/3 c unsalted butter
1 beaten egg
1/2 c heavy cream
1 tsp vanilla
1 c bitter dark chocolate coarsely chopped
1/2 c chopped pecans, toasted (optional)
In a large bowl, mix flour, sugar, cocoa, baking powder and salt. Using a pastry blender, cut in butter until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients.
In a small bowl, mix egg, whipping cream, and vanilla. Add egg mixture to the flour mixture. Add chocolate and optional pecans. Using a fork, stir just until moistened.
Turn out onto a lightly floured counter. Gently knead by folding and pressing dough 10-12 times or until nearly smooth. Handle dough as little as possible to keep it light. Divide into two pieces. Lightly press or roll each half into a 4 1/2 inch round. Cut each round into 6 wedges. Place wedges onto a parchment lined or ungreased baking sheet. If you like, brush scones with extra whipping cream and sprinkle with coarse sugar.
Bake in a 400 degree oven for 12-14 minutes or until bottoms are lightly browned. Remove from sheet and cool on wire rack for 5 minutes. Serve warm.
312 calories per scone, 15 g fat, 39 g carbs and 5 g protein when made with heavy cream.
Conversation in the car yesterday:
Isabella: Mama, turn right!
Me: Why? We are taking (babysitter's name) home.
Isabella: Because I'm hungry.
Me: Why would I turn right if you are hungry?
Isabella: Because the sign said "Food, next right." I want some food.
So, her reading ability is really taking off.
I hesitate to say anything lest I jinx things, but what a good week overall. There were some issues with children fighting (especially those middle two, oiy), but homeschooling has been a breeze, buyers are starting to bite a little, we had a taste of early spring, and I found the motivation to step on the Nordic Track again.
Of course the double chocolate scones with pecans that I made yesterday probably negated the Nordic Track usage, but I am remebering that I have muscles in my stomach again.
I have noticed something interesting about those double chocolate scones. I tend to forget about them until I feel a need to bake something without having planned ahead. Sometimes, I just need to bake now. Now. Double chocolate scones use cold butter, and no melting and cooling of chocolate is necessary. They are just tricky enough to make me feel skilled. They have to be worked just enough to incorporate the dry ingredients properly, but overworking the dough takes away their tenderness. A tender, properly worked scone is a gift from the gods.
I do hope a good weekend follows this good week. It would be even nicer to have the schoolwork trend continue, but I know there will be cycles on that front, so I will just take it when I can get it.
I read this tonight, and it reminded me of Simon. He dances to the music of life, the rhythms and the songs that we have forgotten to listen for.
Kids: they dance before they learn there is anything that isn't music.
~William Stafford
We took the flag down from the shopping center and we planted it in the Victory Garden
~ Barbara Kingsolver
I was catching up on podcasts of The Splendid Table today. One of the topics was the end of their year long locavore project. After listening to the inspiring snippets from the participants, there was an interview with Barbara Kingsolver. She was discussing the hard times our country has come through before when she made the comment above.
While we are still in the depths of winter here, the spring planting season is truly just around the corner. Let us all plant that flag in the Victory Garden this year.
Local and sustainable over cheap. Consume fewer goods with a willingness to pay a fair price for the goods that are consumed. Buy direct; buy local. Get back to basics.
Why should the US government fund the purchase of television converter boxes?
This has been bothering me since I first heard about the coupon program.
There are people who cannot financially afford the converter box, who do not have cable or digital televisions and who rely on the television for news and public information. This is the angle from which the vouchers were first explained to me, and I can kind of understand it from this perspective.
However, it seems like the vast majority of the people who are getting these vouchers are not in this category.
These coupons were not intended to covert every single analog television in this country to digital.
The bigger issue to me is why is television considered a right and public safety issue (for the reasons mentioned above) when health insurance is not?
Our priorities as a nation are screwed up.
When we were kids, my siblings and I drove our mother nuts with one of our habits. She would go grocery shopping, and we three would spend the next two days eating all of the good cereals for breakfasts and every snack. You know, the ones that were expensive and chock full of sugar. Peanut Butter Crunch and Super Sugar Crisp (or should I say Super Golden Crisp nowadays?) were huge favorites.
Since mom went grocery shopping every other week, devouring all the good cereal quickly meant our breakfast choices mostly consisted of Cheerios* or cornflakes until she went grocery shopping again. Being kids, we even had the nerve to complain about the lack of good cereal, even though if we had not gorged ourselves on it, it could have lasted a week.
I realized last night, that I still do this. I rarely eat cereal. I prefer a bagel, scrambled eggs with spinach or yougurt with granola for breakfast. However, if I buy good cereal, I always eat a bowl or two within the next day. Now, my definition of good cereal has changed a little. These days, good cereal means Raisin Nut Bran or Honey Bunches of Oats with Almonds. I picked up a big of box of the former yesterday at a great price, so come late evening, guess what I was snacking on?
Yum.
*Mom had a weakness for Honey Nut Cheerios. This would explain my lifelong love of that cereal. Honey Nut Cheerios are second only to eating Frosted Cheerios with fresh blueberries, and it is a close second.
What if every adult and teen in the United States gave just four hours a month to volunteering in 2009?
What if we gave our time to any service organization on a consistent basis? Any type of volunteering - community service groups, eduction, health care, elderly services, youth programs, environmental programs, social services programs, anything.
Four hours a month. That is one hour a week playing cards with lonely elders at the nursing home. One Saturday morning a month spent gathering donated food for the food pantry. One afternoon a month volunteering in the reading program at the local school or pulling invasive plants along the bike trail. One meeting and action item for a community development committee.
Can you imagine the impact on your nation, your state, your community?
Could you donate just four hours a month to helping our society? Four hours on a bi-weekly basis? Four hours a week?
I am up for the challenge. How about you?
I find it interesting that one can guage warm it is in winter just by the sound of the snow
Warm days mean snow that squelches wetly underfoot. It squishes and compacts as we walk along.
Snow gets squeakier as the mercury drops. When the temperature is in the teens, our boots squeak merrily as we walk downtown to do our errands.
Today, it was eighteen below zero as I walked to work. The snow was crisp and reminded me of styrofoam as I walked quickly through the frigid elements.
I do hope the squelchy, slushy sounds come back quickly.
In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, Long ago.
~ Christina Rossetti
Reading the Homesick Texan's blog today got me thinking about foods that I wish I liked. She was writing about grapefruit, and how she only likes it sweeten.
Grapefruit is one of those foods I wish I liked. Growing up, I was often the one who would prepare a grapefruit for my father. I'd cut it in half, use the special knife to section it and run around the sides. I enjoyed the ritual of it, and I loved the smell. The taste though? Bleh. Not for me. I still do not like grapefruit, though the smell is still wonderful.
Ham is another of those foods. It is served at most of my family holiday celebrations, and I really do not like it. A little on a sandwich or in a risotto is good, but just a slab of ham on my plate will leave me nibbling the protein and reaching for another helping of cheesy potatoes.
I do not like ginger. Yes, I know it is more of a flavoring, not really a food you just eat, but I do not like dishes made with more than a touch of ginger. Gingersnaps, great. Gingered stir fry or curry? No.
Canned pears disgust me. I cannot stand the graininess of them. I grew up thinking I hated pears, but as a grown up I discovered that I just hate canned ones. Perfectly ripe fresh pears are satiny and wonderful though. Now that I think about it, this applies to canned fruit in general. Home canned peaches are an exception, along with pineapple.
Plums. Just do not care for them. Every year I buy them thinking I will like them this year, and every year I foist them off on the unsuspecting children.
Beer. Dis-gust-ing. Betrays my German heritage, I know. Hate the stuff. Every single one I have ever tried.
Green olives. Liverwurst. Canned peas. Grocery store cakes. Green grapes. Smoked cheeses.
I guess if anyone is thinking of treating me to a food gift, you now have a heads up to avoid these.
Luis popped the movie Grease in recently, which was rather ironic since it was the topic of discussion for a few minutes last week with a group of women I know.
I love the movie. I do not even know how many times I have watched it. I love to sing along with the songs, even the cheesy ones. It is such a fun movie.
When women discuss Grease, there tend to be two things that come up. Most of us love it. Many of us also comment on the fact that Sandy had to change to get her man, and was that really the right message to give women? This came up last week with the group of women again.
I was thinking about that today. Sandy was portrayed as a goody-goody, and Danny was obviously the bad boy. But really, what happened in the summer that we know nothing about? How goody-goody can Sandy be and still date a bad boy all summer? How bad can Danny be if he fell for Sandy? I think that during that summer, away from the restraining influence of friends, both let their real selves out to play.
It seems to me that Sandy has a wild streak in her that she was afraid to let out. Many young women have a hard time casting aside the "daddy's little girl" sweetness and light image to become who they are. It is only as we as women grow and mature that we gain the confidence to let the world see us as we really are.
I think Danny has the heart of gold and desire to do the right thing that he hid behind teenage bravado. Many young men want to be cool and tough, even though deep down they are earnest, good guys. Men have even more societal encouragement to hide their soft sides.
Danny made an effort to let his other side show. He tries to take Sandy out to the soda shop, takes her to the dance, earns the letterman sweater and does the good guy thing in doses, even though his teenage immaturity and desires win out often.
Throughout the entire movie, Sandy stands on her pedestal and lets him come to her. He makes the efforts and does all of the changing. Finally, at the end, she throws away society's restraints and makes an effort to meet him in the middle. She grows up and takes control of who she is. It is her choice to perm her hair, slash on the red lipstick and don the hot pants.
Like many young people, Danny and Sandy have many facets. I bet Sandy does not reject the sweater sets entirely and still enjoys going out on a sweet date to the malt shop. I bet Danny likes to drive fast, but still wants to carefully cherish the woman he loves.
Is the message in Grease that we as women should change to make our men happy or is it that young men and women should embrace who they really are?
I obviously have spent far too much time today analyzing the movie, eh?
We went to visit my father yesterday. He lives way too far away. It is a 1 hour 45 minute drive from his home to ours. It is doable to go back and forth in one day, but not necessarily fun with kids.
Coming home, Luis pulled out the GPS unit and decided to see how it sent us home. He does this sometimes, even when we know how to get where we are going. He likes to see the different route. It seems like the Garmin will send us a different way every time even though we usually keep it programmed for shortest driving time.
We ended up coming a convoluted back way, through Highland and who knows where. We did see some lovely sights. There was a huge rock outcropping jutting out of the earth at an angle that looked like it would fall right on the road if a tree had not been holding it up. There were oxbow creeks meandering and a couple of springs bubbling. There was even hillbilly heaven, a bright pink creation of what looked like two single wide mobile homes put together surrounded by bright pink lawn accents, a bright pink garage and bright pink storage shed. Did I mention it was bright pink? Think Pepto even brighter.
However, for all the sights, it was not the best route to take with people prone to car sickness. The loveliest roads in this area are the curviest and hilliest. Thankfully, the contents of everyone's stomachs stayed in place, but Isabella and I were feeling ill by the time we pulled into Monroe.
It also took fifteen minutes longer than our normal route. When chosing shortest driving time routes, Garmin seems to forget that cars cannot take those corners at 55 miles an hour. We have noticed this before. I had to tease Luis that his short way got us all sick and still took longer.
Nice drive, but I think I will stick to the straight highway until the kids are older.
New Year's Randomness for my sister who is complaining that she needs something new to read while she eats her Wheaties:
~ I have not actually had Wheaties in years. Do they still make them? I am pretty sure I have typed this exact same sentence before, and yet I still have not checked.
~ We joined the modern age last month with a programmable thermostat. I am curious to see if it has any impact on our astronomical heating bills. We may keep our house at 62, but it is old and costs a mint to heat. We lowered the temperature to 58 between 11 pm and 7 am, which had Luis complaining at first, but he seems okay with it now. No one has complained or even mentioned the mid day drop to 60. We are almost always home, but with the sun coming in most days and our activity level, I thought dropping it to 60 from about 11 am until 3 pm would work.
~ I have been thinking about my bread post recently, and it was really snobby of me. I was feeling inundated with people who were making the no knead breads; it seemed like it was everywhere right then. I have eaten it, and it tastes fine. However, I enjoy making the artisan sourdoughs and other breads. I like to work with the dough a bit. That is my choice though. If someone does not enjoy making the breads, but likes good bread, the no knead and 5 minutes a day methods are great alternatives. I retract that post, and my apologies to anyone who makes them.
~ I have been wondering lately why I do not eat pickles more. Not kosher dills and that kind, but pickles as a vegetable on the plate. They taste good, the crunch is nice this time of year, but I never think to put them out with dinner. Pickles were something we pretty much only put on hamburgers as a kid.* That and the occasional pickled beets at my grandmothers. I should pickle more things and serve them more often.
~ I just used the words I have in the beginning of two thirds of my first entries. Must use other words.
~ We took down the holiday tree today, and it is so nice to have the open space again. I think that every year. The tree is pretty, but I like to be able to see out the window and have the room back.
~ Vincent has learned how to dial my cell phone number from the home cell phone. When I was at work for four hours the other day, he called me 12 times during the first three hours. He also called Luis at least once that I know of. Yes, I discussed appropriate telephone use with him, and hopefully it has been nipped in the bud. It is cute the way he ends every conversation with a *mwah* kiss though. He forgot with one call, and he immediately called back to kiss me and hang up.
~ I get the very fun job of taking a sensory child clothes shopping soon. Isabella received many, many clothes for the holidays. She has grown, so only two pair of pants and one shirt fit and did not feel "funny". We get exchange a pile that is two feet high. I think I will leave the other three at my in laws to a) make it easier for me, and b) give her some special one on one time.
~ I went grocery shopping on New Years Eve day, just to pick up a few things.** I never knew the store was such a madhouse that day. Many of the checkout lines were open, and the lines were still four carts deep. I was thankful that I was taking advantage of the kids being home with the neighbor girl who was babysitting while I was at work. It cost me an extra $2 for the extra time the shopping took, but it was the best $2 I have ever spent. I am starting to wonder if I should hire her every time I go grocery shopping. It would make the process much more fun.
~ I still think of The Daily Digress every time I do a footnote. Annie, you and footnotes are permanently linked in my head. If you have not read The Daily Digress, you should do so. She writes much more often than I do, and she is a hoot.
Okay, little sister, I hope you had an enjoyable read. I will try to get back on the ball and blog more often.
*Well, except for my freak of a brother who would put them on his bizarre ketchup and mayo sandwiches, but that was just weird.
**I am the only one who will go in for one five dollar item and spend $75? Never fails.
