Okay

It's true, I'm avoiding going to bed. We haven't even headed upstairs for baths yet and it's already almost 10 p.m. Trying to salvage the day, which turned out fine, in the end, but was definitely a roller coaster ride in its own way (as I told Cousin S, in so many words, my pity party is over and I do feel grateful that it isn't worse, for in the end, nothing fundamentally changed). I think we're both decompressing: Mama from yet another busy, stressful day at the office plus her visit with me to the doctor's so there were two of us listening to info (we also hoped her presence would prevent any nasty remarks orthopedists seem to make to me when I'm alone! Either it worked or he wasn't nasty); me from the doctor's visit, the continued achiness, and the new NSAID, plus all the usual childcare/housework stuff. No wonder I've been reading the paper and blogging and emailing, plus sharing all with Mama, all while listening to her music downloads, for nigh 2 hours now!

Eureka!

Mama's finding songs we've been looking for for years (gosh, that looks funny), including the Indigo Girls's cover of "Love of the Common People":

Living on free food tickets,
water in the milk from a hole in the roof
where the rain came through.
What can you do?
Tears from your little sister,
crying 'cause she doesn't have a dress without a patch
for the party to go.
But you she'll get by

'cause she's living in the love of the common people,
smile's from the heart of a family man.
Daddy's gonna buy you a dream to cling to,
Mama's gonna love you just as much as she can
and she can.
It's a good thing you don't have a busfare,
it would fall thru' the hole in your pocket and you'd lose it
in the snow on the ground.
You got to walk into town to find a job.
Tryin' to keep your hands warm
when the hole in your shoe lets the snow come thru'
and chills you to the bone.
Now you'd better go home where it's warm,
where you can live in a love of the common people,
smile from the heart of a family man.
Daddy's gonna buy you a dream to cling to,
Mama's gonna love you just as much as she can
and she can.
Living on a dream ain't easy
but the closer the knit the tighter the fit
and the chills stay away.
You take 'em in stride for family pride.
You know that faith is in your foundation
and with a whole lot of love and a warm conversation
but don't forget to pray.
Making it strong were you belong
and we're living in the love of the common people,
smile's from the heart of a family man.
Daddy's gonna buy you a dream to cling to,
Mama's gonna love you just as much as she can
and she can.
Yes, we're living in the love of the
common people,
smile's from the heart of a family man.
Daddy's gonna buy you a dream to cling to,
Mama's gonna love you just as much as she can.
Yes, we're living in the love of the common people,
smile's from the heart of a family man.
Daddy's gonna buy you a dream to cling to,
Mama's gonna love you just as much as she can.
Yes, we're living in the love of the common people,
smile's really hard on a family man.
Daddy's gonna buy you a dream to cling to,
Mama's gonna love you just as much as s
he can
and she can.
- John Hurley & Ronnie Wilkins

Lacunae

No, not Barbara Kingsolver's new book.

A hole in my education.

I have realized how completely uninformed about the history of Eastern Europe and Central Asia I am. It is a definite black hole in my education, which seems fitting since I have gathered from recent readings that the area is often bypassed in favor of its Chinese, Indian, or Middle Eastern neighbors. But in reading recently about the Silk Road, having become so intrigued by the teaser of an exhibition at the AMNH (in these sense that it was light on artifacts and history and heavy on ambiance and the experience of it), I have started to put pieces together. Like why are the Uighurs in China Muslims? Well, because they were originally their own people and embraced Islam when it reached them via, you guessed it, the Silk Road. The uneasy relationship of Tibet and China? Well, there used to be a huge Tibetan Empire, that often fought with China over trade (and then they learned how to make silk!). The so-called Gypsies coming out of India to Europe? Yep, on the Silk Road. How about the difficult-to-follow history and various ethnic groups of the former Yugoslavia? And then there's Marco Polo, who traveled to China in the 13th century, on the Silk Road. Not to mention The Merchant of Venice and Othello . . . . And what of the Jewish communities of India and Christians in China? Silk Road proselytizing. And the blonde people in the Himalayas? And the way the Ottomans got all the way to almost the walls of Vienna but were stopped by the Hapsburgs? And then there's the whole Crusade thing (okay, I'm conflating the Holy Land and Turkey with Central Asia--this lacuna is big!), which was just as much about wealth (i.e. trade) and power as religion. And I'm not even going to get into the trade routes--spice route, I think it's called, whereby China and various empires sailed all over, trading, even as far as the coast of Africa (ignoring that controversial book about the (questionable) Chinese maritime accomplishments, 1421 The Year China Discovered America). Why did the Byzantine Empire succeed after the Roman one failed? Why did Alexander the Great (okay, I'm skipping around chronologically. And geographically.) go East instead of north? And why all the way to India? You guessed it, there were huge, wealthy, powerful empires in the east (of course, as a good classicist, I knew of the Scythians and Parthians and Bactrians, but only barely and as fringe groups to the histories of Greece and Rome). And not just the Persians. Except you can't ever see them on maps that split Europe from Asia right around Turkey. And so the area gets ignored. It's as if a blindfold has been lifted off my mind and I can see all these connections that I never realized before, even though they were just there hiding in plain sight. And I can't get enough. Which is why there are now 4 books on my nightstand having to do with various aspects of the region's history (including a vegetarian cookbook of the Silk Road!!).

And I have discovered another hole in my cultural literacy. A few weeks ago, there was something read at church about "to be understood, understand; to be loved, love." And I'd never heard it before and tried my best to Google it but never came up with anything. And so I let it lie. But tonight, Mama is sitting next to me doing some MP3 downloads and was talking about Sarah McLachlan and played a song, reciting the lyrics for me (because she knows I can't listen to songs and lyrics at the same time!). And, lo and behold, it was the reading from church. Can you guess it? Anyone with a Catholic education will. But of course, that's not me . . . .

The Prayer of St. Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;

where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon:

where there is doubt, faith ;

where there is despair, hope

where there is darkness, light

where there is sadness, joy

O divine Master,

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love;

for it is in giving that we receive,

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.

Or, as it is sung, "Make Me a Channel of Your Peace"

Make me a channel of your peace,

Where there is hatred let me bring your love,

Where there is injury your pardon Lord,

And where there's doubt true faith in you.

Make me a channel of your peace,

Where there's despair in life, let me bring hope,

Where there is darkness, only light,

And where there's sadness, ever joy.

O Master grant that I may never seek,

So much to be consoled as to console,

To be understood as to understand,

To be loved as to love with all my soul.

Make me a channel of your peace,

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

In giving to all men that we receive

And in dying that we are born to eternal life.

-=-=-=-=-=

Date Sweets

A Recipe from "Traveling the Silk Road"

1/4 cup butter

2 cups pitted chopped dates

1/2 cup toasted flour or crushed cookie (graham crackers may be used)

1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom

1/2 teaspoon ground fennel seeds

1/2 teaspoon coriander seeds

1/2 cup nuts (chef's choice)

In a heavy frying pan, melt butter on medium heat.

Mash in dates with the back of a wooden spoon. If dates are dry and hard to mash, add a little hot water to soften them.

While mashing, gradually sprinkle in crushed cookies, cardamom, fennel, and coriander (total time: 7-10 minutes).

Spread the mixture on a flat tray or plate, about 1/2" thick. Press nuts well onto the surface. Whhen cool, cut into small squares and serve.

AMNH recipe card from the exhibition

Silk Road Snack


1/4 cup butter
2 cups pitted chopped dates
1/2 cup toasted flour or crushed cookie (like graham crackers)
1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom
1/2 teaspoon ground fennel seeds
1/2 teaspoon coriander seeds
1/2 cup nuts 


In a heavy frying pan, melt butter on medium heat.


Mash in dates with the back of a wooden spoon.  If dates are dry and hard to mash, add a little hot water to soften them.


While mashing, gradually sprinkle in crushed cookies, cardamom, fennel, and coriander seeds (total time 7-10 minutes).


Spread the mixture on a flat tray or plate about 1/2 inch thick.  Press nuts well onto the surface.  When cool, cut into small squares and serve.


AMNH recipe card from the exhibition

Ortho Update

Well, I bit the proverbial bullet and went to the orthopedist this morning. Not my favorite thing, as I generally find orthos to be indifferent to anyone but surgical candidates and prejudiced against overweight people. But today's doctor was tolerable, which puts him in the top 1% of orthos I've met (though near the bottom of doctors in general).

The diagnosis (after an exam and several more x-rays): moderate adult scoliosis with two curves, one near the lumbar-thoracic intersection (forgive me, the man spoke more Latin than my high school teacher and I'm not sure I have all the precise terms), which explains the current issue, and one further down, which explains the other back problems. It is coupled with degenerative disk disease (meaning some of my disks are being compacted and shrinking; I knew this already) and the possibility of that bone spur (L3-L4; we knew that too), PLUS, and this is a new one for me, I have lardo (?) scoliosis, too, meaning that my upper back, the thoracic, is very, very straight, which causes extra strain, and, unrelated to the current problem but no doubt will be a problem later, decreases pulmonary function because my chest cavity is actually much narrower than it should be and so my lung capacity is lessened!

The prognosis: He spoke of pain cycles and I must be in one now where it is worse regardless of what I do and often without any obvious cause. It sounds like it's just going to be one of those constant things with flare-ups from time to time. Though it's a somewhat inaccurate term, he said I can think of it as spinal arthritis, brought on by a lifetime's grind on a structurally-incorrect spine. And I'm just going to have to accustom myself to some discomfort and constant struggle with it. Many of my problems, from hips to mid-back, can be traced to this torsion (and you should have heard him speak poetically about 2-D vs 3-D curvature!).

The treatment: For now, more PT, 3x a week for at least a month plus daily anti-inflammatories (Daypro). Long range--MRIs, maybe injections, though apparently it is in a tricky spot on the spine that doesn't respond well (I'm assuming those are steroid injections). Strengthening the back is key but not a solution. And I imagine some personal mental strengthening for dealing with chronic issues.

My response: I'm relieved that we now seem to have more of an holistic picture of what is the matter instead of bits and pieces of it. I'll keep doing my exercises, learn the new ones, keep going to WW and losing weight. So, on one hand, I'm usually optimistic about entering PT, but there is always some depression about it, especially for, what, the third time in 4.5 years. So, today, I'm kinda down, even if I like having more answers.

At least he didn't say it was all because I'm fat.

Back In It

(Yep, you guessed from the word "back" what this is inevitably about.)

I don't know when it started--a few months ago? around Christmas when a playgroup mom who is also a massage therapist noticed how tight my middle back was?--that I wake up sometimes in the morning with a stitch or spasm in my left side, mid-back (it mainly hurts when I bend towards, or compress, that side. But it's not constant or predictable). It almost always disappears by midday, but sometimes it can be quite constraining in the morning as I try not to twist (like to unload the dishwasher) or bend or reach much. I figured it's because I'm sleeping on it funny. Or something.

So today, after a really awful morning that almost had me in tears as I tried to get in the car to drive the kids to school, I talked to my PT when I went for my workout. Because there is no current doctor's order, she couldn't really examine me, but after watching me move she said it was probably some kind of "locked up" joint (her words, not mine) and probably not the muscle at all. It's lower thoracic, so not my previous muscle-related lumbar pain. Yippee.

I'm looking for yet another ortho, since my last two have been dismal, in hopes of getting some answers . . . and back to PT, I'm guessing.

Wasn't it a year ago, just about right now, that I went back into PT? Do I get out of whack over the more sedentary winter and hurt as things warm up and I move around more?

At least I'm feeling better this afternoon . . . . but it doesn't really make me want to go to bed.

Pretty for a Picnic

It is another glorious day. And so we had our first outside picnic of the year! Then, while I did some more pruning of the front bushes, the kids did some "pedal dancing" on their tricycles. We also put out our windsock and our spring flag. Later we all headed into the cul-de-sac for more tike-trike fun. And I met a neighbor, who had fond memories of raising her own children in that cul-de-sac. Then another neighbor came by for some conversation. It really was the perfect outside day.

For the Love of Science

If you like science or music, and particularly if you like both, check out Symphony of Science and all the great music videos with Carl Sagan, Stephen Hawkins, etc "singing" about the universe we live in.

Big Fat Love

Have you ever noticed that lowfat and nonfat products, particularly dairy products like milk and yogurt, are bitter? It's most noticeable in the plain varieties of course because most nonfat/lowfat yogurts are heavily flavored with aspartame and other chemical junk so that you can't taste the bitter lowfat dairy.

But go try some whole milk or whole yogurt. Oh my word, creamy and almost sweet, even when plain. Not bitter at all and only slightly sour-tangy, for the yogurt, as it should be. I just had some organic plain full fat CREAM TOP yogurt and I love it!

I've read that they have to add back dried cholesterol to lowfat dairy to give it some body and that this is worse for you than the original fat. I don't know much about that, but I know what I like. And if I just have to eat or drink less of it, I will. Gimme that ol' time dairy!

And the Oscar Goes to . . . .

Cranford!

Okay, so I didn't watch the Academy Awards at all last night, not even tracking the liveblogging on the NYTimes (I don't go to the movies and I'm just not that interested in Hollywood much anymore). Instead, I finished watching Emma on "Masterpiece Theater" and then started watching Cranford (in fact, I'm watching it still now), based on the Victorian novel by Elizabeth Gaskell. Mama played her video games, while petting the cat. It was a delightful evening.

Eating Tips from the Kids

All I Ever Needed to Know About Good Eating Habits, I Learned from

Sis:

• take small bites
• take your time
• only eat what you like
• ask for what you want
• give away what you don't like if someone else does like it

Bud:

• eat with enthusiasm
• fruit is always a good option
• stop when you're done

Plus, Tips They Could Learn from Me:

• Use your napkin not the underside of the table
• Don't chew something, spit it out, and try to give it away
• It's okay if you leave things you don't like on your plate--it doesn't mean you have to eat them (i.e. you don't have to try to give it away or hop up to throw it out every 10 seconds)
• Eat your colors (and, no, shades of brown don't count more than once!)
• "Please" and "thank you"
• Beans won't kill you

In the Paper

Keeping up these days:

• On eruv, the strings that bind Orthodox Jewish communities, which were felled by the snowstorm
• Chocolate hazelnut panna cotta--another use for Nutella!
• Chicken Pot Pie "cobbler"
• Mommy friendships, or are you only friends with your kids' friends' moms? Or vice versa?
• On Scientology, an interesting insight into its theology, adherents, and detractors
• A Korean Imelda Marcos
• Soccer for moms, or of course running up and down a field is good for you
• Two interesting obituaries: a violin prodigy who "disappeared" and a Holocaust survivor with 2000 living descendants

Sunshine Day

"I think I’ll go for a walk outside now, the summer sun’s calling my name-
I hear you now-
I just can’t stay inside all day, I gotta get out, get me some of those rays!
Everybody’s smiling (sunshine day)
Everybody’s laughing (sunshine day)
Everybody seems so happy today-
It’s a sunshine day."

--Brady Bunch, "Sunshine"

It is just gorgeous outside--birds chirping (even the first robins of spring!), bees humming, plants budding, flowers peeping, windchimes singing, children laughing, neighbors waving. We spent several hours outside after church and lunch, cleaning up the garden wall and riding tricycles around. We showed Mama our blooming snowdrops and our emerging crocuses; then altogether we found the tips of our day lilies poking through.

"Good day sunshine

Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine

I need to laugh, and when the sun is out
I've got something I can laugh about
I feel good, in a special way
I'm in love and it's a sunny day "

--Beatles, "Good Day Sunshine"

"Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,

and I say it's all right

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right

Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes...

Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right
It's all right"

--Beatles, "Here Comes the Sun"

Mama got out the safety cones and all the big wheels, in addition to the tricycles, creating an obstacle course on the driveway for the kids, who raced up and down it. Bud also had all his drawing tools (in a baggie from church) out on my favorite rock to draw the outside, so I drew so snowdrops for him. Sis helped with some dirt digging. Mama rearranged parts of the garage and delivered tools and such to me for my rosebush pruning and rock wall cleaning.

"Sunshine on my shoulders

makes me happy

Sunshine in my eyes

can make me cry

Sunshine on the water

looks so lovely

Sunshine almost always

makes me high.

If I had a day that I could give to you

I'd give to you a day just like today

If I had a song that I could sing for you

I'd sing a song to make you feel this way."

--John Denver, "Sunshine on My Shoulder"

I'm sure we'll have more frost, maybe even a few more snowstorms. It is only the first week of March after all. But as Sis noted, the ground is finally soft so that she can dig and we could remove our "Let it Snow" sign, which has been frozen in place for a few months now. So regardless of a few more weeks of winter (and local lore says not to plant anything until Mother's Day, which is often the last damaging frost of the region), we can feel "spring bustin' out all over" (to paraphrase from Carousel).

"Let the sunshine
Let the sunshine in
The sunshine in
Let the sunshine
Let the sunshine in
The sunshine in
Let the sunshine
Let the sunshine in
The sun shine in..."

--5th Dimension, "Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In"

"I'm walking on sunshine , wooah

I'm walking on sunshine, woooah
I'm walking on sunshine, woooah
and don't it feel good!! "

--Katrina and the Waves, "Walking on Sunshine"

And our family's perennial favorite:

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know dear how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away."

(for more sunshine songs, see here)

Spring, Glorious Spring!

The weather this weekend couldn't be more different from the snow still hanging around last weekend: it was in the low 50s, the sun was shining, and our crocuses that we planted last year are starting to peep up.

And so we decided to head into the city. There was only one glitch: we found out that our favorite part of Central Park Zoo--the children's section with the bunnies (is it redundant to have a children's section at a zoo? who else goes to zoos?)--was closed because of snow damage. It wouldn't do to take Bud to see the new King penguins but not have the bunnies for Sis, so we opted for a stop a few blocks up from there--the Met.

Okay, sure, staying inside a museum seems antithetical on a glorious spring day, but it met the required criteria of being an outing and being in the city. We skipped the children's program because I haven't been that impressed with the object selections and activities (it seems haphazard at best, and, frankly, I can do much better). So, we'd packed our own colored pencils and white paper plus cardboard drawing boards (always check the museum rules about sketching in the galleries. For instance, the Met doesn't allow crayons or sketching in special or temporary exhibitions). Our museum assignment: fill a drawing of a house with objects you'd like to have it in. Right away we stopped in the Greek and Roman galleries so Bud and Sis could draw black- and red-figure vases in their houses; Bud also added a statue. All while we talked about the Greeks as the people who started the Olympics (though, I neglected to point out that those were the Summer Games, not the winter sports we just watched).

On and on we traveled through time and space--18th-century French interior design, medieval French stained glass and precious reliquaries, 15th-century French illuminated manuscripts, 19th-century French painting (hmmm, I'm sensing an unintentional pattern here), plus all things Egyptian, Arms and Armor, of course, a few American landscapes, and the Chinese courtyard, sketching much of it (and Mama sketched in her own book too, which was very gratifying for both of us--she enjoys it so much and I know she does). In front of Manet's Mme V . . . in the Costume of an Espada (c. 1862; image here), Bud and Sis, who immediately identified her as a woman (androgynous or even butch women not being surprising in our family!), wanted to know why Manet liked people to dress up . . . and why for bullfighting? Was it Halloween? Across the gallery, at his A Lady in 1866 (image here), we identified the five senses explored in the painting--the orange for taste, the flowers for smell, the monocle for sight, the bird for hearing, the robe for touch. Sis much more interested in Courbet's images of hunting, complete with dead rabbits, which sent Mama into paroxysms of explanation until I said he was just showing off how well he could paint all manner of animals, people, and landscapes (hey, it doesn't have to be scholarly art history when you're talking to preschoolers, the point is to look!).

Perhaps the most difficult conversation, though, came after a quick tour through the Tres Belles Heures exhibition of Limbourg Brother illuminations for the Duc de Berrry, where they most enjoyed watching the video on how parchment was first made and then decorated (probably only because all the vitrines were too high for them to see the miniature paintings and all the magnifying glasses were taken). We were looking at the catalogues and Sis spotted a bleeding man being nailed to a cross and wanted to know what was going on. See, despite, or maybe because of, her love for baby Jesus, we had been delaying and avoiding telling her about what happens to grown-up Jesus. For her, Easter has been all about the bunnies. But she was persistent--who was that? why was he bleeding? what was going on? Mama tried to distract and relocate us to no avail. So I told Sis what was going on: baby Jesus grows up and, because people didn't like what he was teaching, killed him (if my art history isn't scholarly, my theology is even less so). What was he teaching? Actually, it's kinda what we learn in church--value all people--but that wasn't very popular with the rulers. By then, Bud was done and didn't want to hear anything else about blood or crucifixions, even trying to close the book, but Sis continued and so I told her that he died and people believe he came back to life. On Easter. And then, she figured it all out, in all seriousness: "Mom, that's because he came back as the Easter Bunny." Ah, such is the theology of the Unitarian Universalists!

Lunch at the museum was, as usual, a highlight because the kids get their meals in cardboard yellow taxi cabs. Bud was thrilled with his pasta and apple. Sis chose a hot dog and potato chips. But halfway through lunch, she decided she'd rather have the apple. And Mama found her saying the impossible, one of those crazy-mom things you say before you hear yourself, "No, I'm not getting you an apple. You have to eat those potato chips." I promptly got up and bought the girl an apple. Mama was suffering a touch of museum fatigue, I think.

We left the museum midday, with two tired children clutching battering rams they'd bought in the shop to knock down their block castles and knights at home. And as we drove north to head out of Manhattan, Mama and I became nostalgic for our time in the city pre-children. It was just the kind of day that anyone would head outside and enjoy the street culture of the city, something we just didn't get to do anymore. With kids in the backseat, driving away from all those city dwellers exploring their city, what used to be my city, I felt more constrained, hemmed in by parenthood than I have in a long while. I wanted to walk those streets, see those sights, do what we used to do, without four little legs in tow. Sure, we take the kids into town and I love showing them the city, but it's just not the same.

And then we hit on an improbable solution: let's head up to Columbia and, if we can find street parking, we'll get out, wander around, get a snack. Right. Street parking. In Morningside Heights on a glorious day. But there it was: an easy corner spot right on Broadway and 113th. The family parking gods were smiling down on us (we're convinced that Gong has special parking luck). The kids were nonplussed and wanted to go home, but we promised food and so they got out of the car without much whining. We started with the Columbia bookstore, though, so Mama could buy a sweatshirt, maybe get something for the kids (though, there was alas nothing in anything like their size). This visit to campus was for her tinged with much sadness because of the loss of her friend earlier this week; it was, however, a fitting reminder and memorial. While she was shopping the kids and I rode the elevators. This ended abruptly when I got separated from them by two other shoppers and Sis took that opportunity, for the first time ever, to fall down the escalator steps. Poor thing. Shamed me. She was fine. I was fine. I think the other couple was appalled.

We headed to Butler Library, one of the two large, impressive buildings facing each other on the main campus. It's where Mama and I met outside one morning when we both worked there--she asked a co-worker to introduce us (and the rest, shall we say, is history! Especially because there is no sense boring four-year olds with how she pursued me for years until I turned around and gave chase later!). We kissed there and then and Sis, who is sometimes 4 1/2 going on 12, said, "Oh, Mom!" We also headed into the library, securing our alumnae access to take them up into the stacks, which smell exactly the same as they did almost 20 years ago (it was palpable, that smell-memory hitting us both in the face at the same time. Ah, what fun we had in the stacks!)

It was time for pizza.

Mama often waxes nostalgic, poetic even, about her late-night dining forays while an undergraduate--4 a.m. breakfasts at random diners with friends, sneaking food into the library or computer lab for all-nighters, fast Chinese at Olllie's or Columbia Cottage (never Dynasty, or in collegiate parlance, "Die-nasty"), the jumbo slice at Koronet. And so that's where we headed, where the pizza is bigger than Bud's head. And he loved it. But not as much as Mama! Sis daintily ate her crust and reminded us that we'd promised her cake. Indeed, we had, so we headed around the corner towards the Hungarian Cafe, a coffee and pastry shop on Amsterdam Ave.

But before that, we noticed that the Cathedral of St. John the Divine was still open and so we headed in there to show the kids the largest Gothic-styled cathedral on this side of the Atlantic. And one on which their cousin the monk once worked on the sculpture. The exhaustion of several hours of walking wore off in the luminescent, rainbow light of the rose window glowing in the late-day sun. I know they have never seen anything like it. I've seen it several times, here and a few other places (though, my experience of actual Gothic cathedrals is relatively limited), and it still never ceases to touch me. Mama said she'd never seen it glow quite like that. And so we explored, making the full pilgrimmage up the aisles, through the transept, around the chapels in the ambulatory apse, with a peek at the choir stalls, and back down the nave. They marveled at the columns, the arches, the windows, the decorations, the finished and unfinished stone (the Cathedral ran out of money 100+ years ago and was never finished, which is part of its majesty). Sis started to noticed the Jesuses, both baby and grown-up, and so I explained that this was a Christian church, meaning they believe Jesus Christ (his last name! Help me . . . I was not meant to have to explain Christianity. If I remember correctly "Christ" was an honorific??) was very special, while in our church we believe he was important like a lot of other teachers such as Buddha, Mohammed, and other spiritual traditions. Nothing was said about the Easter Bunny. Bud was much more concerned with the possibility of being locked in and forgotten, since we thought it was near closing time (Mama said she had this kind of fear many times as a child. Being a fan of From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, I think I would have welcomed the opportunity).

So, we finally headed out to the Hungarian Cafe, where Sis chose some plain chocolate-leaf cookies, Bud got a strawberry cake (mainly sponge cake with vaguely pink whipped cream and strawberries on top). I got a huge chocolate-mousse confection with chocolate sponge and ganache called a Rigo Lanci (which I used to eat there eons ago) and a mooshy-gooshy alcoholic rum ball with almonds (which filling seemed like a mix of sponge cake and mousse and lots and lots of rum!), as well as an Hungarian coffee, with almond extract, cinnamon, and whipped cream. Mama got a soothing steamed milk with honey. We sat eating at tables on the sidewalk overlooking the cathedral and the park with the giant sculpture until it was time, it being after 5 pm!!, to head home.

What a glorious spring day! What a wonderful reminder of good times and good friends in the city. And the building of even more good memories of the city with our kids . . . .

Making It Up as I Go Along

I didn't know what to make for dinner last night. I had leftover ABC soup, from leftover chicken, and so I made pot pie by adding flour to the soup and baking it all in a double crust. It's not the best food I've ever made but they ate it last night for dinner and today for lunch, so that has to count for something, right?

Meanwhile, I put a container of frozen beans on the stove to heat up, thinking it was the leftover Soupe du Berry I made when Gommie was here. And so after I served the kids, I went to scoop soup for me. Only it wasn't soup but just boiled beans--the beans I hadn't used for the red wine-laced soup. Blah, boiled beans aren't really a meal without fiddling with them some, so I sauteed some garlic and added about 2/3 of a bottle of chunky salsa. And truly, it was one of the best bean meals I've made!

Or was it all making a virtue of a necessity?

More in the Paper

Things I read in the paper yesterday when I wasn't blogging:

• On common steps you can take to alleviate/ameliorate allergies in children (like sticking the stuffed critters in the dryer for 20 minutes to kill dust mites; I've heard the freezer works too!)
• But whatever you do, don't Google those allergy symptoms or attempt to diagnose your own kids, as described in this touchingly neurotic (and familiar) guest post on Motherlode.
• I like the "Cooking with Dexter" series and the recent installment includes a recipe for Cuban beans! It also calls to question the myth of perfection in baking. I agree--people baked for hundreds of years without exact level measurements. Certainly I can turn out decent, even good, muffins (like I did this morning, adding 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon to the batter, as well as making a 1/4 cup sugar-1/4 teaspoon cinnamon topping), cakes, cookies, without having exactly a cup of sugar or flour. In fact, I read recently that standard measuring spoons and cups sold in stores differ up to 25%. So "exact" and "perfect" are only illusions. Besides, most of our European counterparts would say that we should measure weight not volume if we really want to be precise!

Love to Pop

My dad had a detached retina earlier this week that has been repaired (felt like an ice pick to the head, he said). He's not supposed to read for a week, so Gommie will have to tell him that we're sending him love and get-well wishes via this post!

Sending Love to Mama

. . . who found out today that a good friend from college has died.

Let's Hear it for the Bread!

Yay, that was some of the best bread ever.

And it is now all gone.

Less than 4 hours after being pulled out of the oven.

(We had friends over. And that's what they had for snack . . . and dinner!)

I'm not even sure it ever reached the cool stage for which you are supposed to wait to slice it. Who cares!

Yum!

Bread, Take 2

Okay, I'm not trying that recipe again yet but one from my favorite bread machine baking book by Beth Hensperger.

And it was almost a disaster, too.

I could smell burning and wondered immediately if it was the toxic smell the oil man said would emanate from the basement because of the heating system cleaning. But he'd only been down there a few minutes.

The bread.

I didn't know you could burn bread in a bread machine. But I almost did. See, it rose so high that it was touching the roof of the machine, where there are heating elements. And even though it had only just started to bake, it was already in big trouble.

So I turned off the machine, grabbed my hot pads, pulled out the baking pan, and wondered if the dough would withstand being deflated. I quickly greased a loaf pan, set the oven to preheat at 350F, and transferred the dough to the new bread pan, letting it rise on the stove while the oven preheated. I then consulted my King Arthur flour baking book to see if that was the right oven temp and for how long. It was and my guess is about 45-60 minutes.

On the upside, the dough has risen again (Hallelujah!) and is browning. Maybe too much--with only half the time spent, it looked too brown, so I've foil tented it.

I hope it's better than my last loaf.

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Vienna Bread

2/3 cup water

2/3 cup milk

4 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces

4 cups bread flour

3 tablespoons sugar

1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon gluten

2 teaspoons salt

2 3/4 teaspoons bread machine yeast

Place all the ingredients in the pan. Set crust on medium and program for Basic or French; press Start.

When the baking cycle ends, immediately remove the bread from the pan and place it on a rack. Let cool to room temperature before slicing.

Or, if the loaf is too big for your machine after it rises, transfer to bread pan and bake at 350F for 40 minutes!!

Beth Hensperger, The Bread Lover's Bread Machine Cookbook

In the Paper

Wow, it's been a long time . . .

Recipes and Food and Health

• I loved this post at Motherlode on mealtime rules--and all the comments (including mine own!
• NYC Ed policy: Pop Tarts are good, homemade baked goods are bad.
• Mmmm, a recipe for cranberry bean-kale soup--and believe it or not I have both in my house!
• A NYTimes take on Michael Pollan's Food Rules. If you don't read the book, read the article.
• On city nut roasters, a disappearing breed. At least I got my own stove top one for Christmas, to tide me over when I can't get those glazed peanuts!
• Check out the crazy results of FDA rules on servings and how one bowl of microwave soup is actually 2 servings!
• Dexter's dad goes healthy--with pretzels--from the series on cooking with and for a child in the NYTimes.
• "Generation Snack"
• Mmmm, a whole wheat muffin recipe.
• And baked frittatas from around the Mediterranean.
• And recipes for bulgur (of which I now have a bag).
• And recipes for beans from Greece!
• And yet another discussion of better bread with less kneading'
• And for Mama, do it yourself yakisoba.
• Another great essay by writer-turned-nurse Theresa Brown, on "bully nurses." (Hope you don't know any of these, Aunt Banana).
• Does one cookie hurt? On dieting strategies.
• On the importance of touch: it'll make you more successful and happy!
• More health directives: to eat more slowly, get off your tush . . . .
• But no one knows what to say about salt.

Parenting

• It's a playground out there . . . .
• Another touching essay on Motherlode, this one on losing a child.
• Advice for those who employ childcare workers: how to speak "nanny."
• A new book on a mom's assisted suicide.
• Motherlode on the parents of Olympians. Can you imagine that could be our kids in 13 ish years?
• In Loco Parentis: A scholar's about-face on education policy.

Art and Culture

• Sleuthing on Faulkner and a plantation diary. (good even for non-fans).
• Some letters by Salinger (alright, I didn't like Catcher in the Rye but I'm fascinated now by its author)
• The medical history of King Tut--it sounds as if he had a short, ill life.

On Texas (which I always hate to see in the papers; it's never good)

• On how Texas is contributing to the miseducation of America, through textbooks. (Don't read if you're a liberal and have high blood pressure).
• (And certainly don't read this, which is all about how TX kept a man in prison despite having the signed confession of the actual murderer. And now only exonerated the man, years after he died of asthma in prison).

Sweet Joy

Ah, the joys of sweetened condensed milk! Sis will lick it off a spoon or finger when we are making snow ice cream! Bud inhales it once it's mixed with the snow. I've used it in fudge and hope to make dulce de leche someday (by boiling it in a can). And my MIL puts it in Thai coffee and Thai iced tea. I can't wait to try the jello recipe mentioned in the article praising the sweet stuff. Which is why we now buy it in bulk at the warehouse store!

Around the House in 80 Feet

Of track, that is (and that's just literary license, of course). The kids used all of their train tracks today to build a giant circular track around the core of the house--from the kitchen, through the living room and playroom, and back to the kitchen (which would seem to be in direct contradiction of the no-toys-in-the-kitchen rule, but all things fly post-Gommie). Then, they played an odd combo of Thomas the Tank Engine and the new Disney train show Chuggington, enrolling their Thomas & Co trains in school, just like the "trainees" on Disney. There were teachers, lunch, recess, and lessons, including one on nature and enjoying the countryside. They designed and implemented the track all by themselves and then played for probably another hour or so.

And then, there were "80 feet" of purple streamers (though, considering how many times they wrapped it, this might not actually be hyperbole), also wrapped around the center of the house. For Babysitter's birthday celebration this afternoon. The cats loved it, too, and had to be put in their room to keep them from eating the paper.

It was a very busy day!

Recipe for Today

Start with Dutch Baby Pancakes for breakfast.

Make Baked Ziti (with penne!) at lunch, for someone else, who just had a baby.

Make Faux Chocolate Lava Cake for Babysitter's birthday. This will be everyone's lunch.

Make Meatloaf of some type or another for dinner, plus Roasted Cauliflower and Brussels Sprouts (just like my Roasted Broccoli).

Also make Sis's ABC Soup with grilled cheese for dinner at the last minute because she is so excited to help.

DON'T repeat tomorrow.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Baked Ziti (with penne!)

1 box whole wheat penne

1-10 oz. package frozen chopped spinach
1-27 oz. jar spaghetti sauce
1 egg
appx. 8 oz. container ricotta cheese
2 cups (8 oz) shredded mozzarella cheese, divided
1/2 cup (2 oz) grate parmesan cheese, divided
¼ cup chopped fresh parsley (1 tablespoon dried) or other Italian seasonings

Cook pasta according to package directions, along with frozen spinach (in the same pot!); drain. Preheat oven to 35O°F. Spray bottom of 15 x 10 x 2 inch glass baking dish with no stick cooking spray. In large bowl, beat eggs; stir in ricotta, 1 1/2 cups of the mozzarella, 1/3 cup of parmesan, and seasonings. Pour hot pasta/spinach mixture into egg-cheese mixture and stir.

Spread 1/2 jar of sauce on bottom of baking dish. Spread pasta mixture into baking dish. Top with second half of sauce and remaining cheese.

Bake, covered with foil sprayed with cooking spray, until bubbly, about 45 minutes. Uncover and continue until cheese is melted, about 5 minutes. Let stand 5 minutes before serving.

Note: I imagine you could also add browned ground beef to the spaghetti sauce, too.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Faux Chocolate Lava Cake

**First, make frosting below according to directions and refrigerate. Then make cake below using mini-bundt pans. To serve, place a scoop of frosting in the hollow of the mini-bundt cakes and microwave for approximately 1 minute until frosting softens (but does not melt completely). Serve immediately--but be careful, it's hot!

Mommy Hungry

HERSHEY'S "PERFECTLY CHOCOLATE" Chocolate Cake

Ingredients:

* . 2 cups sugar
* . 1-3/4 cups all-purpose flour
* . 3/4 cup HERSHEY'S Cocoa
* . 1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder
* . 1-1/2 teaspoons baking soda
* . 1 teaspoon salt
* . 2 eggs
* . 1 cup milk
* . 1/2 cup vegetable oil
* . 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
* . 1 cup boiling water
* . "PERFECTLY CHOCOLATE" CHOCOLATE FROSTING(recipe follows)


Directions:
1. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease and flour two 9-inch round baking pans.

2. Stir together sugar, flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda and salt in large bowl. Add eggs, milk, oil and vanilla; beat on medium speed of mixer 2 minutes. Stir in boiling water (batter will be thin). Pour batter into prepared pans.

3. Bake 30 to 35 minutes or until wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool 10 minutes; remove from pans to wire racks. Cool completely. Frost with "PERFECTLY CHOCOLATE" CHOCOLATE FROSTING. 10 to 12 servings.

VARIATIONS:
ONE-PAN CAKE: Grease and flour 13x9x2-inch baking pan. Heat oven to 350° F. Pour batter into prepared pan. Bake 35 to 40 minutes. Cool completely. Frost.

THREE LAYER CAKE: Grease and flour three 8-inch round baking pans. Heat oven to 350°F. Pour batter into prepared pans. Bake 30 to 35 minutes. Cool 10 minutes; remove from pans to wire racks. Cool completely. Frost.

BUNDT CAKE: Grease and flour 12-cup Bundt pan. Heat oven to 350°F. Pour batter into prepared pan. Bake 50 to 55 minutes. Cool 15 minutes; remove from pan to wire rack. Cool completely. Frost.

CUPCAKES: Line muffin cups (2-1/2 inches in diameter) with paper bake cups. Heat oven to 350°F. Fill cups 2/3 full with batter. Bake 22 to 25 minutes. Cool completely. Frost. About 30 cupcakes.


"PERFECTLY CHOCOLATE" CHOCOLATE FROSTING

1 stick (1/2 cup) butter or margarine
2/3 cup HERSHEY'S Cocoa
3 cups powdered sugar
1/3 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Melt butter. Stir in cocoa. Alternately add powdered sugar and milk, beating to spreading consistency. Add small amount additional milk, if needed. Stir in vanilla. About 2 cups frosting.

Hershey's Cocoa box

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My Basic Meatloaf

1 lb ground meat (turkey)

1 egg

1/2-1 cup of some filler--oatmeal, cracker crumbs, breadcrumbs, rice (even a drained can of chicken rice soup!)

ketchup, barbecue sauce for topping

salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 350F. Combine ground meat, egg, and filler. Season to taste. Top with sauce. Bake for 1 hour for meatloaf/bread pan or 30 minutes for muffin tin.

Mommy Hungry via Gommie Hungry

-=-=-=-=-

Sis's ABC Soup

1 onion, chopped

olive oil

1-2 teaspoons minced garlic

10-15 baby carrots, chopped

2 stalks celery, chopped

1 1/2 cups frozen corn

1 Yukon gold potato, cubed

2 chicken breasts, cubed

1box chicken stock (plus extra water)

ABC pasta (we used 1/2 bag)

Saute onion and celery in olive oil. Add garlic. When fragrant, add carrots, corn, potatoes, chicken, and stock. Cook until tender. Add pasta, with extra water if needed, and cook until tender. Season with salt and pepper.

Sis Hungry

Dutch, Dutch, Baby

In our post-Gommie departure, post-pediatrician visit, post-tire episode haze, we went to the store and I bought a cookbook. As you know, the kids and I bake, a lot, one of Sis's favorite cookbooks being her Sesame Street baking book. But Mama rightfully pointed out that perhaps if I got them more interested in cooking entrees, they might expand their eating. And yesterday, there was a Sesame Street cookbook with meals in it and lots of pictures. We've taken to it immediately, flipping through it twice this morning just for fun.

And then they decided on the Dutch Baby Pancake for breakfast, for which I had all the ingredients. What a funny, puffy, very entertaining food--it looked like a fantastical desert landscape in the oven and then deflated some on being removed from the heat. The kids devoured the whole thing with applesauce and apple butter (the original recipe includes skillet apples but we weren't interested this morning). Yum!

Okay, so it's not exactly a dinner food, but it was something new.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Dutch Baby Pancake

2 eggs

1 teaspoon vegetable oil

1/2 cup low fat milk

1/2 cup flour

2 tablespoons sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

Preheat the oven to 425F. Grease a 9" nonstick cake pan, shallow baking dish, or skillet with an ovenproof handle.

Crack the eggs into a bowl. Then use a fork to beat together the eggs, oil, and milk until smooth. Stir until well-blended.

Add the flour, sugar, salt, and cinnamon to the bowl. Stir until a smooth batter forms. A few lumps are okay. Pour the batter into the greased dish.

Bake the pancake for 10 minutes. Reduce the heat to 350F. Bake until the pancake is very puffy and lightly browned all over, about 5-8 minutes.

Note: it will deflate upon leaving the oven, so be sure the kids get a look before you take it out! Also, it is easiest to cut with scissors.

C is for Cooking: Recipes form the Street

Get Well Soon!

. . . sent to Ma, who wasn't feeling well yesterday and is now on antibiotics.

Adventures in Cooking Our CSA Share: Season 2

So, should I call it "Return of the CSA?" or "The CSA Strikes Back?"

Mama just suggested "Spawn of CSA."

You get the picture: I just sent in our application for Year 2 of our CSA experiment. We loved (I loved) our farm, from which we received full-share boxes of produce for about 25 weeks, or June through mid-November. We had kale, chard, dandelion greens, collard greens, turnip greens, Asian mixed greens, garlic scapes, kohlrabi, hakurei turnips, radishes, lettuce, tomatoes, potatoes, cabbages, leeks, carrots, sweet potatoes, bok choi, scallions, green beans, zucchini, yellow squash, winter squash, corn, garlic, onions, cucumbers, eggplant, peppers (from purple through the red-orange rainbow to green), Brussel sprouts, escarole, broccoli rabe, beets, cauliflower, lots of herbs, spinach, and eggs, (plus access to lots of fruit and even our Thanksgiving turkey!) so many of which were new to us, and not in a small way daunting. But we learned a lot (and more) and are back for more, this time with more experience cooking different vegetables, more recipes (thanks for all the veggie cookbooks for Christmas, Mama!), more ways to put up the excess produce.

The timing is perfect because I've just finished reading Michael Pollan's superb and memorable Food Rules, a compendium of cultural suggestions for eating food, mostly plants, not too much, and am starting Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, which very introduction calls for a food culture in the U.S. to guide our eating habits. Pollan's rules, culled from research and reader responses, include many snappy axioms, like "eat food grown on a plant, not made in a plant" or "treat treats like treats" (or the corollary, "S" rule--snacks, sweets, and seconds only on days that start with S). Sure, it sounds like the phrases from a Weight Watchers meeting (such as my least favorite "nothing tastes as good as being thin feels." Ugh. And b.s.), but that's not all bad if it helps. And Kingsolver's book will be a positive motivation to eat locally and seasonally, maybe even expand our own garden efforts, without, hopefully, all the depressing scariness of other Pollan books like Food Inc. (which I have not read entirely).

I think I'm ready for spring: ready to ditch my coat, ready to open the windows, ready to put some seeds in the ground, ready to have a variety of seasonal produce (we're trying to eat seasonally which means it's been a long time since we've had much more than beans, root veggies, certain greens, and apples).

And I'm definitely ready for my first CSA box!

Tired

It's been a long day, with the delivery of Gommie to the train station this morning, followed quickly by taking the kids to school (which went better than expected), my running of errands for the new baby meals I'm making this week (there were two new playgroup babies born this week! Mommy Goose's little girl and Miss R's early but healthy new little boy), and then a trip to the doctor's to confirm that Sis's finger would be okay despite the purple bruise under the nail (thankfully, it didn't need to be "drilled").

The title of this post, however, refers to what happened during all that: at some point I ran over a nail tied to a big piece of plastic which then sounded like I'd blown a tire (and Pop will tell you that I have a lot of experience with that--I blew 3 tires in less than a year on my great-grandmother's old car. And he came and changed them all! Finally, on the third flat, we just changed the fourth tire too). Fortunately, I didn't lose control and pulled into a parking lot (coincidentally, that of the doctor's office, whose staff watched me check my car!)--there was a twisted nail embedded in my front right tire. Luckily it was stuck fast and no air was leaking out, so I was able to finish my morning, meet Mama, and buy (gulp!) four new tires for the van (yep, when we put a penny in the treads, you could still see all of Lincoln. After 4.5 years, I guess it was time). The kids had a blast playing amid the tire towers (really, it's one of the safest stores they can run around in, because they can't hurt any of the merchandise--and at their size are unlikely to be able to topple any of the tires on themselves, though I was watching very closely--and apparently kids do it all the time), winding their ways into little spaces, pretending they were in a forest or a house or a cave. I almost had a mind to keep our old tires for playing in the backyard but decided against it. It took about 1 1/2 hours, during which we all went for lunch and then ran errands to get ready for our Babysitter's 18th-birthday celebration tomorrow.

What a day!

Ready, Steady, Go-y

The doors to the train closed shut.

"Bye-bye! See you tomorrow!" called Bud. "See you at Christmas!"

Waving in tandem with her brother, Sis repeated, "See you at Christmas!"

They didn't really no what to say as Gommie left this morning. Truth is, we'll see her in June sometime when we go there, not sure when she'll foray north again, probably Thanksgiving or before. This year, not Christmas.

It capped a whirlwind 24 hours of activity, from church to lunch at the Japanese restaurant yesterday (not herbachi!), where Gommie enjoyed California rolls and seaweed salad and the kids tucked into shumai, gyoza, and yaki udon again. Once at home, they went tricycle riding in the newly snow-free landscape. Then rest time (and Bud fell asleep on Gommie) and lots of playing--dinosaur museum, dinosaur world, camp out, car races (hence this post title, which is what they were shouting at each race's start), I don't even recall what all. Dinner only interrupted the play a bit and then they continued, the most happily engaged and energetic independent play of the whole visit as the adults watched on.

Bedtime, which was late, was a bit of a slog, with lots of tired participants and some inelegant parenting. We were trying to get the room cleaned up from the camp out, while getting them through their ritual, all while ignoring that this was the last bedtime of this visit, and there was lots of grumping from kids who didn't want to go to bed but were too tired not to. "Why can't I do things in the order I want to?" Sis pleaded at one point, as Mama tried to marshall them out of the room to brush teeth so she could clear up the sleeping bags. Ugh. Then things were just about settled, when Sis lost her balance while closing her drawer and slammed her finger in it. Hard. The swelling, the tenderness, the pain. We all know it hurt and Tylenol didn't do much, but she wouldn't let us go near it with ice. (We're going to the doctor this morning to see the extent of the damage, mainly if they need to puncture the nail to drain the blood or have an x-ray. Sound like the end of another visit? When there are kids, there are accidents).

This morning found us trying to balance getting ready for school and getting Gommie ready to travel, with the last of the play time. The kids did remarkably well at ignoring her imminent departure, replacing dinosaur world with a forest in the basement. Gommie was in charge of finding forest animals (a "buffa-yo" is not a forest animal, Gommie!). When it was time to go, everyone got up, got dressed, got their stuff, and headed out the door.

At the train station, instead of letting Gommie out and watching her board the train from the car, we headed into the coffee shop where Gommie got tea and the kids got candy and a bag of chips. What was that article about grandparents making kids fat? (For the record, that was grandparents who are daytime caregivers for kids with working parents in Britain. Not your average spoiling grandparent during visits). But the distraction worked and no one cried because their faces were too stuffed and they were too excited about treats for breakfast as they hugged Gommie and then waved goodbye as she boarded the train. There were even smiles all the way to school as they ate their food. Not a bad way to say goodbye.