Best holiday season ever

Usually around the holidays, I want to retreat to a blanket fort and not emerge until some time after the sun enters Aries. I grumble my way through obligation and chores, feeling put out as the person who has to attend to the details. This year, a string of influences has me in a more joyous mood.
First, I listened to an audio recording of Wayne Dyer's Excuses Be Gone. I made some mental adjustments which were a long time in coming. Not everything has to be difficult. I bought some gift cards this year instead of obsessing over the perfect gift. I stopped pouting every time I needed to bring a covered dish somewhere. I just made easier recipes that used what I had on hand. I don't like having to buy stocking stuffers so we did away with the stockings. In fact, our immediate family is not opening any presents this year. I just started to realize that not everything has to be a chore. Nor does it all have to be my responsibility. I can tell myself a new story about ease.

It has been a rough couple of years, in my mind and on paper. I am ready to embrace some new truths and new joys. One such joy is that our family is planning a trip to England and France. One of the reasons I am reviving this blog is to tell the story of our trip: planning through execution. I am in heaven, just considering the possibilities. I consider myself a great travel planner. Though the reality will only be one week of family togetherness and adventure, the advent of the trip has begun a chain of excitement. Don't get me a diamond necklace. Sorry Kay's --my kiss begins with the Pont Neuf. Even with the knowledge that I will open a very few presents this year, joy abounds.

Snack attack

From Nicholas Kristoff to food, I read another NY Times article--this one about about snacking and what has become a national obsession. Over Christmas, I grumbled about all the place I had to bring "a snack". After about 10 different venues, I almost cried one night when a church member asked me (last minute) to bring a dozen cookies for coffee hour. It is true, I could have just picked something up at the store, but even that can be hard when the closest store is 5 miles away and my grocery dollars barely stretch anymore. I wouldn't feel so bad about contributing if I felt the snacks were necessary, but there seems to be so much waste. I signed up to bring cheese and crackers to my daughter's art show only to get there and see table after table of cheese and crackers. They put half of it back for the second half of the show. The show was from 4-7 PM. Was nobody going to eat dinner? My daughter goes to a small school, so the same small pool of parents (mainly mothers) were going to be or had already been called upon to bring dinners for the theater production week, concessions for the play, treats for the holiday party, and desserts for after the music concert. All of these events happened within a month of one another. For approximately 40 kids, there were about 10 mothers who donated snacks for the holiday party--in addition to the subs the kids were getting for lunch. Add to that the snacks we bring to Sunday School, which is an hour long--after which, the kids rush the coffee hour table of treats. Why are our kids overweight?
The article cited the demise of the family dinner (anyone who reads this blog knows how I consecrate that holy of holy hours), the guilt of busy parents, and the overscheduled child who needs nourishment to get her through piano lessons followed by gymanstics lessons.

I ask all you committee chairs, if you are in charge of snacks for an event, think about it. Are they really necessary? Do you need 10 parents to bring snacks or will one snack--perhaps a dozen clementines--fill the need? Consider your plan for leftover snacks. Can the bag of pretzels be kept for the next concert in two weeks? I thank you in advance for conserving our food, my family's dinner appetites, and the oft-assailed energy of mothers.

Connected

I just read an article by Nicholas Kristoff in the NY Times about Haiti. I went to see Kristoff speak this fall at F&M college. There is a compassion element in his reporting that I find refreshing and invigorating-- in spurring me to action in a way that other reporters fail. I trust his answers because he has done his homework and travelled to the places he speaks about. I have travelled, but not extensively and very little has been international, but I fall into the "God bless the whole world--no exceptions" camp. The United States is a big country. You could travel all over and see so much, that going outside its borders isn't really necessary. Only 30% of Adults in this country even have a passport. Forget other countries, people don't want to seem to want to leave their own villages. In the area where I live, it is not unusual to find adults who have never been to New York City--a three hour drive by car. That is a travesty.

In this day of easy transportation and Internet access, the world is getting smaller and we as Americans need to familiarize ourselves with it. We can't afford to stay in our little boxes. In this tragedy that is Haiti, I am thankful for my neighbor Marsha who opened my horizons. She has done missions work in Haiti. She has shared photos of her experience and introduced me to citizens of Haiti, one of whom is a med student in Port Au Prince. Waiting days to find out if Richard survived (he did, but he lost everything) has made the experience so real for me--just as knowing I had a college housemate living in New Orleans during Katrina. Maybe it is time to reach out to more people, places, and experiences. It reminds me that we are all human and all connected.

Orange Hummus

Working on my new orange-hued facebook was a frustration--especially the marathon session I did on Tuesday. I barely moved from the laptop. Then I realized I had to make something for Maren's lunch. Gone are the days of ham sandwiches with the new pescetarian regime. So I set out to make hummus, which I have done before. I decided to go with Mollie Katzen's Orange Hummus recipe from her Enchanted Broccoli Forest cookbook. Oranges are in season, and I had some on hand. So after a whirl in the blender, a few slices of veggies, and packaged bagel chips, I had lunch for both of us. I admit I tasted it right away. That was enough to know I could barely wait until noon the next day. I needed that small triumph after my day of frustration. So today, Maren came home and, unprompted, told me that the orange hummus was amazing. Click on the link to see the recipe and judge for yourself. It a little bit of sunshine in this winter haze.

New Website

After several yearly attempts, I have finally replaced my old website with a newer one. I am not a web designer. Code gives me a headache. I can design a mean brochure or business card, but websites are another animal. I wanted to update mine to make it feel a little more classic, simpler to update, and believe it or not, I wanted to get away from all that purple so my artwork could stand on its own. My artwork is really the reason I chose this particular template. (Here is where I confess and put in a plug for www.freewebsitetemplates.com. I needed a starting point, and they provided it.) So, please, take a look around the new site. If you find any glitches, let me know, but be gentle with me.

***No actual tears were shed in the making of this website, but hair was pulled and painkillers were swallowed.

Pescetarian

My daughter is starting her new diet today. She is becoming a vegetarian who eats fish. She is also becoming a flexetarian, which means that if there are no other options, she will eat some meat. She began down this road after a joining a 5th grade club which talked about organic and healthy eating practices. Since that time, she has boycotted McDonalds, Burger King and the like. Recently, she had a health class lesson at school which made her consider this diet. She is twelve, so we had to do some research. We want to make sure she gets enough protein. And now that the new year is here, we are helping her to embark on her lifestyle choice. The family is going to eat her diet for the first week. After that, we are going to try to cut our consumption of meat and chicken, but we are not going to give them up. There is a movement called Meatless Mondays. I generally serves at least on vegetarian dish a week. I am hoping to up that to 2-3 times a week. Meatless Monday sounds like something I'd like to try, but if it becomes too inflexible, I'll take my meat out on other days.

Maren's meals (an mostly mine, too):
Breakfast: spinach, shallot, bleu cheese fritatta with Orange, banana yogurt smoothie
Lunch: Vegetable sushi, apple sauce, brownie
Snack: Laughing cow cheese and vegetables
Dinner: Nine Gem curry over jasmine rice with garlic naan. (I'm going with Trader Joe's Korma sauce and adding tofu, raisins, cashews, beans, cauliflower, potatoes, carrots, onions, and tomatoes)

Last Celebration

The last of the holiday parties was yesterday. My side of the family. I think it was too far away from Christmas. I was ready to be done with parties, but so happy to gather with my family. I have three favorite traditions with this gathering. One is the family slide show. My brother Jed puts together a show from all of our digital photos. It has a great soundtrack, too. The grandchildren (my kids and their six cousins, ages 1-15) have a book exchange. I think this is the 5th year. Really works out well. They are all readers and have enough in the way of toys. The last tradition is for the adults: my brother, his wife, Mark and me. We always watch an irreverent movie. This year was The Hangover. In the past it has been 40-Year-Old Virgin--movies like that. Not our usual fare, but we laugh when we are all together. It was a great holiday season, but now that we have had this party our holiday is finally at a close. I am ready for some normalcy.

Recipe for the day: Butterscotch Krimpet Cake When we were little, my brothers and sister and I gathered in one of our bedrooms at 5 AM on Christmas day and had a pre-party. We weren't allowed to go downstairs until 7AM. We always had Tastycake Krimpets at our party. This year, I made this recipe for the holiday gathering. A trip down memory lane.

New Year's Fireworks

I am a Pisces, water sign. If I had to characterize 2009 in terms of my wateriness, I would use the word 'frozen'. I accomplished some things, but no real flow in the areas that I consider priorities--especially in areas of career and health. I lived in my head a lot, dreaming up elaborate strategies for the time when things would be more settled and I could get down to business.

So, 2010. A new decade. Trying not to put too much pressure on myself didn't work last year. I work best under a little pressure. I need to add a little fire to the pot in the form of action. Hopefully it will get the water flowing again. Year of the Tiger coming up on February 14. It seems a good year to explore passions, spirit, moving energies.

Last night, in spite of frozen rain, we went out as a family to celebrate the New Year. On the way home, shortly after midnight, the rain seemed to be subsiding and a big firework explosion lit the night sky. Just one. But sometimes, one spark is all it takes. Happy 2010! May the new year ignite possibilities and change them into realities.

Recipe for the day: Rachael Ray's Buffalo Chicken Meatballs perfect for college football party

To blog or not to blog

The impetus for this blog was to give readers a change of scenery every time they came back to my website. And to give them a reason to check my website for new paintings, workshops, artwork. After a year of working as my daughter's home facilitator (she finished her first year of cyber school)--among other other distractions, I have little to show in the way of art and writing. After a year of economic hardships, my workshops have come to a halt. It is a decision I have made because I have put a lot of effort into my workshops only to have disheartening cancellations.

So that leads me to my blog. Do I stop updating because there is nothing new for me to promote? Is there a reason for these musings beyond a little harmless exhibitionism on my part? Do I have something of importance to give--something that can't be found elsewhere.

These are many of the questions swirling through my brain. Part of me wants to forget the whole creative experiment and get a job somewhere. Doing what? It seems I am at a crossroads. I love to write and to paint, but I am paralyzed by economic realities. Do I do that thing for which I feel I have a gift even if my payday may be years away? Workshops were helping to ease that conundrum. I could do a few here or there and feel I was adding in a small way to the outside world of trade and jingle a few coins in the family pockets.

The title of this post is to Blog to not to Blog a play on Hamlet's existential crisis. Crisis. Crossroads. I am there. What is at stake is not physical life, but the artist life. Should I stop the blog and concentrate on my arts, until I again have something worthy of a new website? Last weekend I picked up three paintings from a gallery in New Hope. I have two galleries who want to see more of my work. I have an agent who wants some writing. If I show them the goods, will they show me the money? Is this what I am about? If it is what I am about, then should I just get a job with a paycheck? To be continued. . . or not.

Arden, Delaware

A few weeks ago, Mark and I were invited to stay in the community of Arden, Delaware for the weekend. This is a community that was set up as a stab at Utopia under the heading of the single tax. In the years since its founding, it attracted many artists, free thinkers, and civically minded people. How can we describe the visit beyond saying that we both looked online at real estate following our weekend there?
The weekend didn't start out too well. Mark was supposed to get off work at 12. He told me to meet him at his workplace because he was already halfway to Arden. I met him, but he didn’t actually get out of work until 1:45. I was not a happy camper and neither was he, so we started out our weekend a little on the aggravated side. But we did hit Chaddsford winery on the way down and got a few sample pours to help smooth the edges before arriving at friend Cynthia's place. The cottage where we were to stay and her property in general were adorable. Something out of a fairy tale--Snow White, but with a better design sense. After visiting with Cynthia in her garden over drinks and snacks, she called up all these artists who lived in the community—spur of the moment—and asked them to let us see their studios, which they did with an abundance of hospitality. We also took in a play. Footloose. Mark and I felt a bit guilty about going to a play that didn’t feature our daughter or any of her acting chums. It felt wrong to go to get tickets where we know nobody. Turns out the guy playing the Reverend in Footloose played Max with Maren in Sound of Music. We stalked him after the show. Even more funny—he was the roast beef carver for the dinner theater. We didn’t recognize him when he was carving our meat.
The next night we went to a community dinner. They have them every Saturday night. BYOB. Community announcements. Their community is so charming. So walkable. We explored every niche, and just about every trail. We took our picnic to a rock in the stream in the woods. We had subs from Capriotti who did some of Biden’s Inaugural feast. Thanksgiving on a bun: Turkey, mayo, stuffing, and cranberry sauce. Our other sub was hot pastrami, cheese, Thousand Island dressing, and coleslaw. We washed it all down with wine. I hope we can take the kids there to see Shakespeare in their dear little 100 year old 100 seat outdoor theater. Jonah is getting his first taste of Shakespeare this year and he LOVES it. And you already know of my little theater girl. We also went on a home and garden tour on Sunday.
All of this left me questioning what it was I want in community. Arden, Delaware is a heck of a place to start that conversation.

Honest Mother's Day Reflections

This one is not going to be sappy. I've done that past Mother's Days, so I've given myself permission to be a little snarky.

* The main reason I like Mother's Day is that I can do anything I want and not feel guilt. I realize that part of this equation is me allowing myself not to feel guilt, and I can choose that any day I want. But I read a novel, mostly lying down, partly while sipping limoncello. I think it is the same feeling my husband must get while watching the U.S. Open on Father's Day. With my limoncello, I had crackers with goat cheese and pepper jelly. I realized as I was snacking, quite satisfactorily, that I had made the limoncello, the goat cheese, and the pepper jelly. I patted myself on the back. It is one of those accomplishments that only I can appreciate. I mean seriously, what kid or husband ever says, "My wife/Mom makes the best pepper jelly."

* On Mother's Day--I can have the last word. Here again, I could assert myself more on other days, but I choose not to for whatever reason. But on Mother's Day, I am given this pass, and I feel empowered. It makes me a little sad that this only happens twice a year--my birthday being the other occasion. This latest instance really makes me want to stand up for myself more. We have a little game in our family. My daughter was born on an odd date; my son on a even. So if there is an impasse of sorts, an even handed dispute to be solved or a an extra cookie to hand out, we bow to the "favorite" of the day as determined by whether it is an odd or even date. (There are more odd days during the year, but my son was an only child and favorite for three years before his sister came along.) My husband was born on the 28th, and I was born on the 21st. I am beginning to think I should be granted "last word" status on odd days.

*The kitchen fairy comes more often on Mother's day weekend for which I am most appreciative. (The kitchen fairy cleans the kitchen after Shiva as Chef is done with the place.) I still cooked (made my mess), but that is because I don't want to relinquish control of my kitchen and meal planning. We had Chicken Marsala over polenta with steamed broccoli.

* Saturday night Mark says to me, "I wanted to get you a plant or something that you can look at more than just once like a bunch flowers or card on Mother's Day, but I didn't know what to pick out. Do you want to ride to the greenhouse and pick out some flowers?" Guys, if you are thinking of saying this--DON'T. This is what I heard, "I didn't get you anything yet. Do you want to go out and buy your own present?" In Mark's defense, when I told him I wasn't interested in running out to the greenhouse, he did go himself on the sly and buy some perennials. I don't need a present, per se. But I do value it greatly when someone has thought ahead and planned something. It makes a person feel cherished and appreciated. Last minute arrangements (and I am not immune to this behavior) reek of obligation instead of endearment.

*We went to J. Maki winery. On Mother's Day and Father's Day they are selling their world reknowned champagne (They call it that even though it is a French designation) by the glass. The champagne was good but there was no fanfare for the event. No table to sit outside and enjoy. No music. We should have gone to Moondancer Winery which has the ambiance--but in my opinion, their burgeoning popularity has encouraged them to release wines that aren't quite ready. Mark did take me to the winery on my request--he had never been there-- and we enjoyed sitting on the stone wall overlooking the vineyards and sipping our Blanc de Blanc and Blanc de Noir. A nice experience, but I am sure that for Father's Day Mark will just want to stay put, smoke some ribs, pop open a local beer, and watch the U.S. Open.

Wonderful Good Market

They are just about to break ground on a strip mall, the first in our local area. Included in that plan is a Giant Grocery Store. I was mildly excited about this because our local grocery store is a hard place for me to shop. It has been stepping up the effort to get new products in, but often they don't know where to put them. The organic food ends up in no man's land next to seasonal things like water pistols or pumpkin buckets. And the new cheese island is filled with more kinds of processed cheese-ish products than I ever thought possible. And they aren't open on Sunday. I realize this is an issue of religious beliefs. I respect that, but I also respect my desire to sometimes make a grocery run on a Sunday.

Here's the thing--an even better option opened up today: Wonderful Good Market. I live near Stoudt's Brewery. At the complex they not only brew fabulous beer, they have a restaurant, a bakery, a village of shops, and an antique market. Now they have a farmer's market and cheese-making facility. I am the queen of cheese, so I am in heaven. The operation is bare bones at the moment. Cheese will come in a month or so, along with a deli, olive bar, organic frozen dinners, farmer's produce, meats and dairy. But they have the bread, a line of organic food, Pennsylvania maple syrup, free range eggs. One of the owners stopped me when she admired my market basket. We started talking about everything from cheese to yoga, to my workshops, to Radiance (a store we both love and the place I bought my basket.), books we read. By the end of the conversation, we were so excited by our aligned interests, we just gave one another a hug. With any luck, my supermarket days are behind me. Heck, I may even apply for a part time job. (How often do you hear me say that?) I just want to be a part of it all. I am that excited.

Opera for Broccoli

What a beautiful day. I just went outside to look at my garden. Stuff is a sproutin'. Radish, fava beans. I replaced the cruciferous plants the bunnies ate and I surrounded my garden with a little human hair. It is supposed to keep away the invaders. So far, so good. The morning was just so alive and the air smelled so fresh. I just wanted to sing. I didn't, but I played opera for the seedlings and sprouts and plants and the bunny who was eyeing me from the neighbor's yard. (It was that kind of a morning.) Maybe I'll install some speakers out in the yard.

Recipe redux

My Friday morning indulgence is Grey's Anatomy. Husband is off to work. Son is off to school. Daughter is not up yet to start cyber school. Alone with the remote control. At some point in starting or pausing the show, I saw a clip from Good Morning America. They were showing off the week's worth of meals to feed a family of 4 for under $15 a meal. Is this hard? It's a rare night when I don't cook for my family. I be willing to bet I do the limbo under that $15 pole with regularity and dare I say...finesse. I think it is funny when magazines and TV shows proclaim, dinners under 500 calories or dinners that are good for the environment, or dinners that save you money, or dinners you can make in 30 minutes or less. Each of these tasks is a no-brainer. Want to impress me? How about a dinner that is light, filling, healthy, environmentally friendly, quick, cost-effective, AND that kids and grown-ups alike will love. (Doesn't quite all fit on the cover of a magazine--does it?). But basically, we the meal mavens weigh the pros and cons of each dinner we make against all of these standards. It is science, math, artistry (and at my house it often also includes a social studies lesson thrown in for sport). Let's add poetry. Haiku? Check out this Twitter user (Maureen) whose entries are complete recipes in 140 characters. She was featured in the N.Y. Times. Maybe it is all novelty rather than substance. But I love the spare minimalism of it all. Steps and ingredients are scaled back (which often translate into savings of $ and time). Chef's intuition is a must. I am thinking of trying the rhubarb upside-down cake, the Stout ice cream, Saffron Asparagus Orzo, spicy tofu. It's fun. Makes cooking into playtime. And in an economic recession, we all need as much joy as we can get.

*While I was a little harsh on GMA for their $15 menu story idea, it did help raise awareness of and increase donations for the food bank, which is another thing of joy.

Free the Chickens

I see progression on my walk. Fields being planted, livestock relocated, trees felled, streams melting, buds, buildings going up. One day on my walk I noticed a new platform on wheels. The next walk it was enclosed in plastic--Conestoga wagon style. I thought the farmers were going to sell plants for Easter. Then I saw boxes and shelves inside the sheltered space. HMM? A moving vegetable stand? I did not expect what I saw next on my walk: dancing chickens. That is what they looked like, running in and out of the covering, clawing the fields for food, talking to one another. Had the farmer been out that day, I would have rushed over and started talking to him. I had read about these gypsy chickens and the health of field eco-systems from reading The Omnivore's Dilemma last summer. One of my top recommended reads, it detailed how farms used to be more savvy in using animals and plants as self-contained eco-systems. The chickens eat the bugs that feast on the cow patties. They leave droppings which leave the pasture in better order so the cows can have better grazing land. One farmer profiled in the book, had a moving chicken coop so he could rotate it over the pasture and make his farm a healthier organism. I have a lot of farms nearby. Family farms, not big agri-business. I have seen crop rotation, animal raised along-side crops to better enhance the fertilization/feed cycles. I have even seen rotting citrus fruit dotting fields as a way to get acid into the soil. The Pennsylvania German population which make up a good percentage of the farming community has had a better than average reputation as being good stewards of the land since they came to the county in the early 1700's.

I was thrilled to see the practice of roaming chickens as described on my walk. And I was sad when I went for a walk one day and they were gone. The farmer and his family own a lot of land, but I thought I could see most of it on my walk. Where did the chickens go? Did he sell them? I got my answer today while running errands. In a nearby field, stuck between houses, I saw my chickens frolicking once more. I vowed to visit them after running errands. (They were a lot more energetic than the orthodontic assistants I surprised on their lunch hour. Going in for a new container for my son's retainer, I found them all napping in the chairs.) I was happy to get back to the chickens. Surprise. The farmers, father and son, were with them. I talked to the son. They have about 250 chickens. They are happy critters, who don't exactly want to stay in their pasture. He is working on that. They just started laying eggs. Ten yesterday. They will be sold at a premium at the produce stand a mile from house. It opens in late May. I can't wait! I wanted to ask more questions--What kind are they? Will you be selling meat? I got a bit shy. So did he. I wanted to take more pictures. I will eventually--now that I know where to find them.