In between all the emails and phonecalls, I received for the election, I received a note from a friend with the following prayer attached. It comes from a translation of the original Aramaic of the line "Thy Kingdom Come" from the Lord's prayer. I did a little research (Google: Aramaic translation Jesus Prayer) and found that the Lord's prayer "Our Father..." has many translations. The Aramic language is rich with layered meanings, so that translations are varied and complex. (Something I was not told as a child when I had to memorize THE perfect prayer.) I am sure that this election, when so many people are struggling, will inspire many diverse prayers. For me, this prayer of unity and peace speaks to my needs and hope for our country. Thank you, Linda for sending it to me.
From the ARAMAIC PRAYER of Jesus
Tey Tey Malkutah
(Usually translated as THY KINGDOM COME)
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Create your reign of unity now-
through our fiery hearts
and willing hands.
Let your counsel rule our lives,
clearing our intention
for co-creation,
unite our “I can” to yours, so that
we walk as kings and queens
with every creature.
Desire with us and thru us
the reign of universal fruitfulness
onto the earth.
Your rule springs into existence
as our arms reach out to
embrace all creation.
Come into the bedroom of our hearts,
prepare for the marriage of
power and beauty.
From this divine union, let us birth
new images for a new world
of peace.
Transliteration by Saadi Niel Douglas-Klotz
Monday, November 3, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Halloween, All Saints, All Souls
Halloween is a prickly subject in these parts. People are divided. Is it satanic? My belief system doesn't include a devil. In my religious practice, Halloween is a time to remember the dead and in that remembering, to know that our lives are finite, and we need to live to the fullest. My grandmothers died on dates that bookend Halloween. October 18 and November 5. So I am already there in thought. The veil that separates us at this time is thin. Dressing up is part of the ritual because it allows us to transform the bounds of our daily life. Our church even has a parade during Sunday morning services to show off costumes. What do you aspire to be? What are you afraid of and want to conquer? Life is finite. Question your boundaries, and have a little fun in the process.
I think that next to Thanksgiving, Halloween may be my favorite holiday. This year we had white chicken chili and cornbread. My daughter, the actress, dressed up as Marilyn Monroe. My son, the sci-fi enthusiast, dressed as some sort of robed, skeletal creature. I was told, I should go as a "normal" mom. Something I have apparently not achieved in life. My mother always spend sthe holiday with us. She dresses as a clown--or some variation. This year she was a clown with a batgirl mask. She is 65, but she went door-to-door with my kids, receiving candy--enabled by the fact that she is shorter than my son, and he got to go trick-or-treating.
The next day was a continuance--a day to exemplify this life-cycle we are in. All Saint's Day. My nephew turned 12. We feted him over a dinner of (coincidentally) white chicken chili and cornbread. Also, I found out that my friend's father died that morning after a long bout with cancer. Tomorrow I will make a pilgrimage to hug my friend. My arms--a circle. This life--a circle.
I think that next to Thanksgiving, Halloween may be my favorite holiday. This year we had white chicken chili and cornbread. My daughter, the actress, dressed up as Marilyn Monroe. My son, the sci-fi enthusiast, dressed as some sort of robed, skeletal creature. I was told, I should go as a "normal" mom. Something I have apparently not achieved in life. My mother always spend sthe holiday with us. She dresses as a clown--or some variation. This year she was a clown with a batgirl mask. She is 65, but she went door-to-door with my kids, receiving candy--enabled by the fact that she is shorter than my son, and he got to go trick-or-treating.
The next day was a continuance--a day to exemplify this life-cycle we are in. All Saint's Day. My nephew turned 12. We feted him over a dinner of (coincidentally) white chicken chili and cornbread. Also, I found out that my friend's father died that morning after a long bout with cancer. Tomorrow I will make a pilgrimage to hug my friend. My arms--a circle. This life--a circle.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Passing the torch
Today, we visited my 91-year-old grandpa. It was a momentous day. My brother and his wife were down from State College area with their new baby boy. He is the 21st great-grandchild for Gramps, but the first male who will carry on the family name. So we took a picture of 4 generations of Althouse men. Sometimes, the name gets passed down, but the genes take on different physicality. Not so in this case. These Althouse men have a direct line from one to another. It was a joy (and a bit of a fright) to see. Perhaps this was more noticeable because 3 out of the 4 A-men were bald. That tells you about their physical appearance. The fact that a few of them sported my daughter's halloween wig (she was Marilyn Monroe) will tell you about their personalities. They are quite the corkers--at least the older three. Baby A is in for quite a ride with these men as his mentors.
Another torch was also passed today. My husband ran against my son in a 5K. This is the first time they raced against one another at this particular distance. My husband just completed a half-marathon in September. My son just completed his first season of cross country. His race distance was 2 miles at the junior high level. He is 14 and my husband is 40. Today youth triumphed over experience, but both had great times. Jonah ran his 3.1 miles in 20:05, and Mark ran in 20:19. I am proud of my guys. I won't tell you who I was rooting for.
Another torch was also passed today. My husband ran against my son in a 5K. This is the first time they raced against one another at this particular distance. My husband just completed a half-marathon in September. My son just completed his first season of cross country. His race distance was 2 miles at the junior high level. He is 14 and my husband is 40. Today youth triumphed over experience, but both had great times. Jonah ran his 3.1 miles in 20:05, and Mark ran in 20:19. I am proud of my guys. I won't tell you who I was rooting for.
NaBloPoMo (II)
If I can figure out how to get the NaBloPoMo badge back on my website, I am going to attempt 30 blogs again this month (NOVEMBER!). They will most likely be short, but I want to connect with words again and this commitment is a good way to start.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Fall Fairy
This weekend was a glorious fall weekend. My daughter and I decided to do an outdoor photo shoot of her in her ballet costumes. We were aiming for a fall fairy look. I took hundreds of pictures, so it is no surprise that we got some that turned out really well. I would love to paint some pictures of some of these. I think my friend Elena Nazzaro's style would work extremely well--not that I could duplicate it even if I wanted to, but she has done inspiring work in the past with fairies and curly haired girls. My daughter has always been an outrageously delightful model for me. She is game for anything. The actress-in-her knows how to give the director-in-me what I want. She also gives recommendations for certain shots I never thought of but that she would like to try. She's a great kid, and I love documenting her childhood in these fanciful ways.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Forbidden Love--the postscript
I am going to make homemade pumpkin ice cream. Let's see my family wrestle with that dichotomy.
Forbidden love
Have you ever been in love, but your family disapproves quite vociferously? Okay, well I haven't...until now. It's fall. A glorious time to be a foodie. Except for one fact: my family hates winter squash in any form. Now my kids have learned to like a lot of foods over the years. Squash will not be one of them. Why? Because my husband carries on. If I serve eggplant which my kids hate and Mark likes, he will tell them to eat it; it's good. But with squash, he vehemently defends their rights to mutiny at the dinner table. Now, really, I have never been one to care about specific dislikes when cooking for my family. That may sound cruel, but out of the three of them, someone is bound to object. Daughter dislikes barbecue sauce and mashed potatoes, but likes escargot and calamari. Son likes chili and ribs but is only recently learning to like salads. And husband doesn't like: corn (unless it is fresh creamed), winter squash, sweet potatoes, blueberries, cooked carrots or cauliflower or broccoli, peas, sauerkraut (except in a reuben), blue cheese, or lentils. (I am sure this is not the complete list.)
So my solution to all of this has always been to cook a variety of foods. Like the weather in Pennsylvania, if you don't like what you get--wait a day. I try to use ingredients in unique ways, varying my presentation of said disdainful food so that the customer may find one preparation tolerable. That's how we found out that Mark likes fresh creamed corn and reubens.
Back to the romance. I made a recipe last night that was easy and to die for: Spaghetti Squash gratin. I adapted it from Wegman's website. Nuke the squash, spoon it into a dish with some grated asagio cheese, fresh herbs (which I still have), light cream cheese. Bake. Voila. Perfection. Served it will some sausage. We had Kielbasa, but smoked sausage would have been a good choice, too. I don't often post recipes, but I will for this one because I loved it so much. Alas, I am banned from making it ever again, but lucky for me, I got to eat all the leftovers for lunch today. Think of me when you are eating this or better yet--invite me over.
Spaghetti Squash Gratin (aka Romeo)
SERVES 8 ACTIVE TIME: 15 min TOTAL TIME: 45 min
1 spaghetti squash (2-3 lbs), halved, stem to blossom end, and seeded
1 clove garlic chopped
Several T of fresh chopped herbs. I used oregano, thyme, and parsley
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp coarsely ground pepper
1 pkg (8 oz) Light cream cheese
1 cup grated Asiago cheese (You could use Parmesan or Romano)
You'll Need: 2-qt shallow casserole dish
Preheat oven to 450 degrees.
Place squash, skin side up (one half at a time), on microwave-safe dish; cover with microwave-safe plastic wrap. Microwave on HIGH 10-12 min, until tender. Let rest covered 10-15 min, until cool enough to handle; carefully remove plastic wrap to avoid steam.
Run tines of fork lengthwise over cut surface of squash to loosen spaghetti-like strands; scoop out strands. If necessary, drain excess liquid. Set aside.
Combine garlic, thyme, parsley, salt, pepper, cream cheese, and 2/3 cup cheese in small bowl. Fold into squash; place in shallow ovenproof casserole dish. Top with remaining cheese.
Bake 20 min or until lightly browned.
Chef Tip(s):May be cooked in individual ramekins.
So my solution to all of this has always been to cook a variety of foods. Like the weather in Pennsylvania, if you don't like what you get--wait a day. I try to use ingredients in unique ways, varying my presentation of said disdainful food so that the customer may find one preparation tolerable. That's how we found out that Mark likes fresh creamed corn and reubens.
Back to the romance. I made a recipe last night that was easy and to die for: Spaghetti Squash gratin. I adapted it from Wegman's website. Nuke the squash, spoon it into a dish with some grated asagio cheese, fresh herbs (which I still have), light cream cheese. Bake. Voila. Perfection. Served it will some sausage. We had Kielbasa, but smoked sausage would have been a good choice, too. I don't often post recipes, but I will for this one because I loved it so much. Alas, I am banned from making it ever again, but lucky for me, I got to eat all the leftovers for lunch today. Think of me when you are eating this or better yet--invite me over.
Spaghetti Squash Gratin (aka Romeo)
SERVES 8 ACTIVE TIME: 15 min TOTAL TIME: 45 min
1 spaghetti squash (2-3 lbs), halved, stem to blossom end, and seeded
1 clove garlic chopped
Several T of fresh chopped herbs. I used oregano, thyme, and parsley
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp coarsely ground pepper
1 pkg (8 oz) Light cream cheese
1 cup grated Asiago cheese (You could use Parmesan or Romano)
You'll Need: 2-qt shallow casserole dish
Preheat oven to 450 degrees.
Place squash, skin side up (one half at a time), on microwave-safe dish; cover with microwave-safe plastic wrap. Microwave on HIGH 10-12 min, until tender. Let rest covered 10-15 min, until cool enough to handle; carefully remove plastic wrap to avoid steam.
Run tines of fork lengthwise over cut surface of squash to loosen spaghetti-like strands; scoop out strands. If necessary, drain excess liquid. Set aside.
Combine garlic, thyme, parsley, salt, pepper, cream cheese, and 2/3 cup cheese in small bowl. Fold into squash; place in shallow ovenproof casserole dish. Top with remaining cheese.
Bake 20 min or until lightly browned.
Chef Tip(s):May be cooked in individual ramekins.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Going Green
Two things have happened in the last week that have made me launch into some obsessive behavior: the market crash and the threat of frost. I watched the presidential debate last night and listened to Obama and McCain talk about the economy. I think I am one of the Main Street folks they keep talking about--even though my address labels say I am even further off the beaten path. This downturn in the economy has affected our family and those around us--has for years. Several years ago, my husband lost his job. More recently he left a job under the threat of extinction. If I hadn't left my job, I am sure I would have been shown the curb. We've had holes in insurance coverage. My brother-in-law is currently out of a job. The latest Wall St/mortgage crisis is hitting home. I am personally nervous. It's not just that I don't have the green--its that money itself isn't as green as it used to be. Where is the security?
Enter the frost warning. My garden is lush with herbs. Beautiful. Verdant. Thriving now that the days aren't so hot and dry. It is a bounty I don't want to squander. I don't know what the economic future will bring, but I have herbs. NOW! So with my trusty pug, kitchen shears, and a large basket I go to harvest what may be my last harvest. The stuff comes in by the bucket full. But what to do? With apples I can make pie or sauce. Some herbs can dry, but I am not looking for dry herbs. So, I plug in my food processor, empty my freezer of all kinds of nuts, get out my trusty jug of olive oil, and do the only thing I know to do. I make pesto.
Walnut Parsley pesto
Lemon Arugula pesto
Sage-basil pesto
Oregano-Chive pesto
Tarragon Pesto
Mint almond Pesto
(I already made and froze traditional basil pesto in September.)
I didn't have enough containers, so I started freezing batches in ice cube trays and then popping them into freezer bags. You wouldn't believe the shades of green I encountered. Sage basil was olive in color because I added some purple basil to the mix (Think $5 bill). The oregano was the lightest, most yellow. Mint was dark too, more like evergreen. The arugula was perhaps the brightest green because of the fact that I blanched my arugula before using. And after each batch I taste-tested on a cracker with goat cheese. My palate got a little tired, so I really can't pronounce a favorite. I really liked the tarragon, but that was my first.
So, now I've socked some green away for winter. Looking back at the products of my two-day surge with the food processor, I admit the obsessiveness of it all. My freezer is basically green and red (from a similar bout of tomato mania). Who does that? But, if economic conditions persist, I can feed my family with a box of spaghetti or a cup of cornmeal. And, who knows, maybe the garlic in pesto will keep the financial scavengers away.
Enter the frost warning. My garden is lush with herbs. Beautiful. Verdant. Thriving now that the days aren't so hot and dry. It is a bounty I don't want to squander. I don't know what the economic future will bring, but I have herbs. NOW! So with my trusty pug, kitchen shears, and a large basket I go to harvest what may be my last harvest. The stuff comes in by the bucket full. But what to do? With apples I can make pie or sauce. Some herbs can dry, but I am not looking for dry herbs. So, I plug in my food processor, empty my freezer of all kinds of nuts, get out my trusty jug of olive oil, and do the only thing I know to do. I make pesto.
Walnut Parsley pesto
Lemon Arugula pesto
Sage-basil pesto
Oregano-Chive pesto
Tarragon Pesto
Mint almond Pesto
(I already made and froze traditional basil pesto in September.)
I didn't have enough containers, so I started freezing batches in ice cube trays and then popping them into freezer bags. You wouldn't believe the shades of green I encountered. Sage basil was olive in color because I added some purple basil to the mix (Think $5 bill). The oregano was the lightest, most yellow. Mint was dark too, more like evergreen. The arugula was perhaps the brightest green because of the fact that I blanched my arugula before using. And after each batch I taste-tested on a cracker with goat cheese. My palate got a little tired, so I really can't pronounce a favorite. I really liked the tarragon, but that was my first.
So, now I've socked some green away for winter. Looking back at the products of my two-day surge with the food processor, I admit the obsessiveness of it all. My freezer is basically green and red (from a similar bout of tomato mania). Who does that? But, if economic conditions persist, I can feed my family with a box of spaghetti or a cup of cornmeal. And, who knows, maybe the garlic in pesto will keep the financial scavengers away.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Haiku with sullen teenager
My son didn't want to go to the country music Fall Fest. We forced him. I have pictures of him reading his book while his sister is dancing. It was a long day. I tried to entertain him in the lull between singers. Save him from his boredom. I sent him a text on his new phone.
Lets have a Haiku contest. Best Haiku wins. Loser buys winner a funnel cake.
He sent a text response.
how about we not
its not a good idea
and I don't want to
I bought him a funnel cake.
Lets have a Haiku contest. Best Haiku wins. Loser buys winner a funnel cake.
He sent a text response.
how about we not
its not a good idea
and I don't want to
I bought him a funnel cake.
Country Poet
This weekend started off at the Lancaster Literary Guild with a poetry reading from Barbara Buckman Strasko, Lancaster's Poet Laureate. Sam Atlee also read some of his shorts stories. I ended the weekend by going to a country music concert with many artists and headlined by JoDee Messina.
Poetry and country music. Makes me want to get dressed tomorrow in a black turtleneck accessorized with a rhinestone belt.
Poetry and country music. Makes me want to get dressed tomorrow in a black turtleneck accessorized with a rhinestone belt.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Finally. . .
School started for my son on August 25th and for my daughter on September 2nd. It is has taken me a month to acclimate to all of it. It was a month of transition. My son is involved in a new sport. My daughter finished up the dinner theater run on September 13th. (I am not going to tell you how many miles I put on my car.) Her new school started in a staggered start, first with the cyber portion and then gradually with the performing arts sector. As of last week, the list of needed school supplies was still trickling in. I think we got it all covered from notebooks, to sketchbooks, to sports clothes, to dance tights and shoes.
It was a new experience for me to be my daughter's home facilitator. I am not homeschooling. She has teachers. But the first weeks of her school were spent learning the technology of such an educational environment. We had to learn to record her voice for her French class. She needed to take screen shots, scan drawings, and learn PowerPoint. She needed to figure out how to link up to attend scheduled chats and how to upload her picture so she could be represented visually by something other than a smiley face. Sending emails, IM's--all new to her. That was just her technical education. She (and I, too) are learning to use our time effectively. In a cyber school, she doesn't get a break to move around. She is sitting before a computer most of the day. That gets hard for a girl who has some attention issues. (Did I mention that she, at least in part, gets that from her mother?) Just this past week, she has begun to work more independently, freeing me up to get some of my work done. Still, I am looking over her shoulder, answering my facilitator mail, and fixing lunches and snacks.
I don't begrudge this work. She is getting a top notch arts education two days a week at the performing arts school. I know that she really must want this, because the nature of the cyber school is such that it takes the remaining five days for her to get it all done. No days off. Part of my personal code is to promote arts education and to encourage women and children to use art to express themselves in ways that empower them to live more fully. Even if I am not getting my own artwork done as much as I would like, I feel as though I am moving forward on my life's agenda.
I don't think I am a particularly selfless mother. In some ways I think I am downright unsuited for the task. I am undisciplined, unkempt, and unorganized. (Did I mention that during this month of adjustment I took my son to the wrong orthodontist office, my daughter to the wrong birthday party and managed to forget my purse when going school shopping?) I am also unwilling to give up my own agenda. (I do modify my course of action, but never surrender entirely.)
Still, I am learning to surrender to the way life is for me at this point in my journey. I won't always have the kids at home. My son had a birthday last week. In two years he will be driving. In the next presidential election, he will be voting. So, I am learning to let go of expectation. Perhaps I won't be able to take the art world and literary world by storm. (The fact that I am trying to tackle both at the same time should be grounds for a) divorce b) commitment into a mental facility or c) a sitcom starring Tina Fey. So, I am taking things slowly. Next week I will attempt to write, paint, and exercise. I don't remember the last time I have written, painted and exercised in the same week. I also am going to go to my son's sporting event, be my daughter's facilitator, take on the hosting responsibilities for a Lancaster Literary Guild event, teach a class, meet with my art coach, and help with classic film/dinner night at my daughter's school. And yet I feel calm and positive about the week ahead. In comparison to weeks past, I am optimistic that I will find some equilibrium.
It was a new experience for me to be my daughter's home facilitator. I am not homeschooling. She has teachers. But the first weeks of her school were spent learning the technology of such an educational environment. We had to learn to record her voice for her French class. She needed to take screen shots, scan drawings, and learn PowerPoint. She needed to figure out how to link up to attend scheduled chats and how to upload her picture so she could be represented visually by something other than a smiley face. Sending emails, IM's--all new to her. That was just her technical education. She (and I, too) are learning to use our time effectively. In a cyber school, she doesn't get a break to move around. She is sitting before a computer most of the day. That gets hard for a girl who has some attention issues. (Did I mention that she, at least in part, gets that from her mother?) Just this past week, she has begun to work more independently, freeing me up to get some of my work done. Still, I am looking over her shoulder, answering my facilitator mail, and fixing lunches and snacks.
I don't begrudge this work. She is getting a top notch arts education two days a week at the performing arts school. I know that she really must want this, because the nature of the cyber school is such that it takes the remaining five days for her to get it all done. No days off. Part of my personal code is to promote arts education and to encourage women and children to use art to express themselves in ways that empower them to live more fully. Even if I am not getting my own artwork done as much as I would like, I feel as though I am moving forward on my life's agenda.
I don't think I am a particularly selfless mother. In some ways I think I am downright unsuited for the task. I am undisciplined, unkempt, and unorganized. (Did I mention that during this month of adjustment I took my son to the wrong orthodontist office, my daughter to the wrong birthday party and managed to forget my purse when going school shopping?) I am also unwilling to give up my own agenda. (I do modify my course of action, but never surrender entirely.)
Still, I am learning to surrender to the way life is for me at this point in my journey. I won't always have the kids at home. My son had a birthday last week. In two years he will be driving. In the next presidential election, he will be voting. So, I am learning to let go of expectation. Perhaps I won't be able to take the art world and literary world by storm. (The fact that I am trying to tackle both at the same time should be grounds for a) divorce b) commitment into a mental facility or c) a sitcom starring Tina Fey. So, I am taking things slowly. Next week I will attempt to write, paint, and exercise. I don't remember the last time I have written, painted and exercised in the same week. I also am going to go to my son's sporting event, be my daughter's facilitator, take on the hosting responsibilities for a Lancaster Literary Guild event, teach a class, meet with my art coach, and help with classic film/dinner night at my daughter's school. And yet I feel calm and positive about the week ahead. In comparison to weeks past, I am optimistic that I will find some equilibrium.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Cyber School
Today is my daughter’s first day at her performing arts school. I am so excited for her. Even the air at the school has the quality of enrichment. I can’t wait for the long drive home to hear of her exploits.
Energetically speaking, the last two weeks have been scattered. Maren’s play run ended over the weekend. Good timing. I won’t be lurking in the back lots of the theater at 10:30 at night any more. For some that may be an early night, but I wake each morning at 5, so it seemed strange for me to be conscious, much less out and about. My son started his school before the Labor Day holiday. Luckily for both of us, he is in the third year of Middle School. So as we experience novelty with his sister’s education, his is stable and a repetition of years past. To supplement the performing arts school, my daughter has been doing cyber school. After today she’ll be on a schedule of three days a week online and two days a week at the physical school (an hour from our house). Though she has teachers, I have been given the title and responsibility of home facilitator. I am thinking of having that title printed on my business cards and given its own paragraph on my resume now that I see the effort it requires.
I realize that it will take us some time to learn to navigate the system to a point where we are fluid and Maren is more independent. I am used to having my days to accomplish my own agenda. In my mind, there was this pleasant little scene. Maren would be doing her school work at the efficient work station we set up for her in the dining room. I would be nearby on my laptop, floating over to her like a fairy godmother when needed. Somehow, I blocked out the way we typically interact with each other when frustration runs high.
Day one: the sites were bogged down by keen new students. While we waited for page after page to reload, Maren was rolling on the floor with the dog.
Day two: I banned her from going to her room between or during lessons.
Mom, I’m stuck.
Don’t mention the fact that I am flowing with my work only to have it interrupted time and time again. Maren’s teacher called to check on her progress since she hasn’t seen any work in math or science. Whoops. We thought we had submitted it. I am pretty savvy on the computer—or so I thought. We are learning together. The great joy has been to listen to the French lectures together and then to roam the house speaking in tongues: English, French and Franglais.
Comment ca va?
Ca va, et toi?
Pas mal.
This is all sure to be an adventure.
Energetically speaking, the last two weeks have been scattered. Maren’s play run ended over the weekend. Good timing. I won’t be lurking in the back lots of the theater at 10:30 at night any more. For some that may be an early night, but I wake each morning at 5, so it seemed strange for me to be conscious, much less out and about. My son started his school before the Labor Day holiday. Luckily for both of us, he is in the third year of Middle School. So as we experience novelty with his sister’s education, his is stable and a repetition of years past. To supplement the performing arts school, my daughter has been doing cyber school. After today she’ll be on a schedule of three days a week online and two days a week at the physical school (an hour from our house). Though she has teachers, I have been given the title and responsibility of home facilitator. I am thinking of having that title printed on my business cards and given its own paragraph on my resume now that I see the effort it requires.
I realize that it will take us some time to learn to navigate the system to a point where we are fluid and Maren is more independent. I am used to having my days to accomplish my own agenda. In my mind, there was this pleasant little scene. Maren would be doing her school work at the efficient work station we set up for her in the dining room. I would be nearby on my laptop, floating over to her like a fairy godmother when needed. Somehow, I blocked out the way we typically interact with each other when frustration runs high.
Day one: the sites were bogged down by keen new students. While we waited for page after page to reload, Maren was rolling on the floor with the dog.
Day two: I banned her from going to her room between or during lessons.
Mom, I’m stuck.
Don’t mention the fact that I am flowing with my work only to have it interrupted time and time again. Maren’s teacher called to check on her progress since she hasn’t seen any work in math or science. Whoops. We thought we had submitted it. I am pretty savvy on the computer—or so I thought. We are learning together. The great joy has been to listen to the French lectures together and then to roam the house speaking in tongues: English, French and Franglais.
Comment ca va?
Ca va, et toi?
Pas mal.
This is all sure to be an adventure.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Tapas
Hubby and I did the tapas restaurant for our anniversary. We went to our first tapas restaurant 3 years ago in Puerto Rico. In fact, we went to 4 tapas restaurants in PR. We went to Culturas in Lancaster which has been open about 6 months. Being someone who like to order off the specials board--give me something different!--I really like the ideas of trying many different plates of food. We tried the fried avocado with balsamic reduction and wasabi cream. A much better use of avocado was as a dip for the crab and cream cheese packets. Avocado is so luscious that frying proved to be overkill. The same dish would have been delightful as a plantain under all that sauce. But the fillet Mignon kebab with Peruvian corn (bigger, starchier kernels--more like lima beans) was unique and fun. The ceviche was refreshing. Our favorite dish was probably the potatoes stuffed with ground beef, egg, black olives and raisins. We toasted with a bottle of Argentinian Malbec, and topped it all off by splitting a piece of chocolate cake. All said, the meal was reasonably priced. The atmosphere and decor were inviting. I'm not usually one to write restaurant reviews, but being the cook that I am, I don't journey to them often. We will visit Culturas again--maybe with a crowd to try even more dishes. But in the meantime I am thinking of having a killer tapas party (I like to cook!) for a small group of adult friends. We can celebrate the kids going back to school.
Apple Crisp
I am not a baker, but this summer I've been glorying in the fruit. Just made a killer apple crisp from our own apples. So far this summer, I've made strawberry shortcake, blueberry muffins, peach cobbler, apple crisp, zucchini bread (okay--so not a fruit, but I was baking!), and though I didn't make it, I had a friend's homemade wild black raspberry pie. I also made a cherry pie, but those results were less than remarkable--in fact, I should probably refrain from remarking that I made one. Still, it has been a glorious summer for fruit here. And not over yet!
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