Mama's Elbow, Snow Casualty

Too much snow, too many times, and even though we have a snow blower, Mama's right elbow has gone on strike. It started hurting her almost two weeks ago, on the first of the snow days, but the pain never let up. Today, she finally had it checked out: tendeonitis, needing a cortisone shot. Poor thing.

And there's still snow to be shoveled . . . .

In Praise of Snow Pants

Hard to put on

straps and zippers and cuffs

always a late need to go to the bathroom.

Undressed and dressed again.

But with snow pants

anything is possible:

scaling the peaks of the ice planet Hoth

and sliding back down again,

battling stormtroopers with ice bombs,

rising from a major strike undeterred.

Staying outside longer than jeans allow

and heading inside, still warm and dry,

ready to go out again later.

Living in a Snow Globe

It was beautiful snow, falling so silently and gently in huge clumps, covering all the messiness of the last two weeks with fresh, clean whiteness.

But by 8:30, with between 3-4" on the ground, it was done. (Actually, it's apparently 4.5+")

And the kids are still home. The novelty of snow days--our fifth in two weeks--has definitely worn off.

Practice, Practice, Practice

The kids are at kung fu class. They really enjoy kung fu. During class.

But they never ever practice. Ever. And we can't exactly pinpoint why.

We know that neither likes the other to watch, out of a dislike of help. But even when we suggest they separate to practice, they don't. "I know the form," they say. They don't understand that they can know it better. And that by practicing, they'll be able to earn the next belt, which they both say they want to do.

So, what's a parent to do?

Amy Chua, yep, that Tiger Mother again, says:

For a Chinese mother, the first hour is the easy part. It's hours two and three that get tough. . . .

What Chinese parents understand is that nothing is fun until you're good at it. To get good at anything you have to work, and children on their own never want to work, which is why it is crucial to override their preferences. This often requires fortitude on the part of the parents because the child will resist; things are always hardest at the beginning, which is where Western parents tend to give up. But if done properly, the Chinese strategy produces a virtuous circle. Tenacious practice, practice, practice is crucial for excellence; rote repetition is underrated in America. Once a child starts to excel at something—whether it's math, piano, pitching or ballet—he or she gets praise, admiration and satisfaction. This builds confidence and makes the once not-fun activity fun. This in turn makes it easier for the parent to get the child to work even more.

Her daughters' piano practice sessions included the denial of drinks or bathroom breaks, the removal of toys to be donated to charity, and threats of "no lunch, no dinner, no Christmas or Hanukkah presents, no birthday parties for two, three, four years." In Chua's words, during practice the house became a war zone.

As a self-proclaimed Dog Mom, that is not the route I would choose, for a variety of reasons, mainly out of a belief that respect for my child is tantamount. But I do understand one aspect of it, "nothing is fun until you're good at it." And I believe that Sis and Bud would enjoy kung fu more, both at class and at home, if they practiced some, if only because they'll be happy to earn their next belts and to someday be able to perform the lion dance. But if by forcing them to practice, I take the fun out of kung fu as it is, I also do them a disservice. Especially because I have absolutely no illusions that they will become kung fu masters or believe that it is imperative to their success in life to be kung fu masters; they're five and aren't making any life decisions these days--sure, we're making several of them for them, but this doesn't quite rank up there. My main goals for their kung fu class was that they be introduced to some new experiences: the experience of some kind of sport, the experience of some kind of extra-curricular class, the experience of learning a new skill set, which also includes the culture of attending class--remembering your stuff, listening to the teacher, being with peers, trying something new, and, of course, practicing it.

And even though I recognize that kung fu is not their lot in life, something will be. I believe it is important to give everything a chance, to commit yourself wholeheartedly and completely to what you agree to do, and to respect the experience and those providing it by doing your best. Are they too young to understand that and to follow it through? I must admit, I had believed them too young for such classes and definitely too young for any team sports for this very reason but agreed because we were all interested in their giving it a try. So how far do I encourage them, then? How far do I push them, through encouragement and enticement, so they can get to the point that they are good enough to enjoy it more? What about internal instead of external motivation? How far do I risk them not learning any of those important lessons, but instead receiving lessons on cajoling, forcing, bribing, and yelling, in other words the negative side of my power as a parent? Or do I just need to wait for them to be older so they can understand it all, even the difficult aspects of the actual art of kung fu, like telling left from right!

I don't have answers. No one, besides Chua, seems to, with internet sites filled with suggestions to let kids try for an agreed-upon duration, with set practice times, taking breaks from both lessons and practice, with lots of rewards; all of it sounds rather wishy-washy, just like Chua says. But, we're going with that for now. Our kids go to class, perform there, don't practice at home, and we encourage them when they do, refrain from chastising when they don't, and try to let it be just another activity. At least until it comes time to enroll again. I mean, I will admit that we don't make them practice reading or writing at home, except as it happens naturally in our day-to-day experiences, despite being strongly encouraged to do so, because we don't think it's necessary; in fact, we believe that's the quickest way to ruin school and reading for them. Would I really take practicing kung fu more seriously than the three Rs?

I will add this as a caveat: do you know why I never took piano lessons as a child and to this day can't play an instrument or read music? Because my grandmother forced my mom to. And my mom didn't want to force us, as I understand it. That's what I'm trying to avoid: kids missing out on what can be a wonderful experience if given the right opportunity.

I just don't know what exactly "right" entails.

But I know what it doesn't . . . .

Same Song, Fourth Verse

Here we go again . . . snow tonight and tomorrow, between 2-4" possible. No one believes there will be school.

At this rate, we won't get a summer! (Because there aren't saved "snow days." They're taken out of summer and then winter and spring break. Yes, we get two separate week-long breaks up here. Which is why school goes until late June.)

Here at Hogwarts

Well, we've ushered in a new era: the era of Harry Potter.

Yep, even though the kids have neither read the books nor seen the movies, they are now completely absorbed with all things wizard. It started with mild curiosity about Harry Potter because of a mug I've drunk out of for years with Hagrid and the kids on it, the calendar and books I got for Christmas, the fact that Mama and I sent to see the movie, and especially the names of our cats, Albus and Hermione. But it exploded when they built the Hogwarts Castle out of Legos with Mama this weekend and have since been allowed to play with it.

And so they make up stories, knowing that the characters are magic and there are bad guys. In fact, I've explained it in Star Wars terms and have been struck by how superficially similar they are: Harry is Luke, Hermione is Leia, Ron is Han, Dumbledore is Obi-Wan, Voldemort is Vader, Death Eaters and Dementors are stormtroppers. The hero gets help from his friends to protect good and defeat evil while learning more about himself, his parents, and the past as well as experiencing devastating losses in the process, generally.

I've told them the colorful bits of the wizarding world, about owls and Quidditch, potions and the Cloak of Invisibility. But I'm trying not to share the "secrets" of the HP narrative because I don't want to ruin the books for them in advance (and I won't mention those here because at least one of my friends is still working her way through all the books!). The kids are free to make up their own stories based on what they know, which has had some funny results. For instance, in their HP world, Prof. Flitwick is a major character!

I realized this morning that Harry Potter has entered the canon of their play because the house is now different parts of the castle (the kitchen is the Great Hall, our room is Dumbledore's office) and we are now characters. I'm McGonagall, Sis is Harry (yes, she loves being the hero), and Bud is Hermione (who in this case is very interested in astronomy because the Lego castle has a telescope). We've just had Transfiguration class, where the students learned to transform themselves into animals (after learning how to change the colors of scarves and then change the scarves into small animals), and then we were attacked by some Dementors, whom we fought off with spells (which I am half remembering from the book, including "expelliarmus" and "transfiguro," which I made up). Right now, Harry is wandering around in his Cloak looking for the Sorcerer's Stone, a rainbow-colored kooshball, to help us defeat Voldemort.

Must get back to it because we're going to play Wizard's Checkers . . . .

Hat Trick

It's our third snow day in a week.

But that's not why I'm using a hockey term.

Our front yard, indeed all the yards, looks like an ice rink, with slick, frozen rain icing the surface of 2 feet of snow. The trees are even starting to get that beautiful crystalline look, as their little branches become encased in ice.

It's a good day for looking outside, from a warm, dry, ice-free inside. And so, we have Legos to play with, soup on the stove, and bread in the machine.

I Love My Doctor

My doctor called first thing this morning to check on me and we had a long chat. He still believes that I will recover fully; this is only a bump in the road. The cold, damp weather is a major culprit, as are hormones and the elliptical, which might just be too much for me. He said a treadmill is the way to go. And I'll go see my OB about some short-term hormone control. And when I told him that I was pretty depressed about this backsliding, he was so encouraging and reassuring. I'll see him in a week and that fact alone makes me feel better already.

It's Not Just For Crackers Anymore

I received a bag of King Arthur Flour graham flour (aka whole wheat pastry flour) for Christmas, about which I was very excited. And so I've been experimenting with graham breads in my favorite bread machine cookbook, Beth Hensperger's Bread Lover's Bread Machine Cookbook. The first we tried, Graham Bread, was soft and nutty, but not too wheat-y that the kids objected; in fact, Sis asked for another loaf. Though, it didn't take like graham crackers at all, my only previous experience with the flour. Today, I'm making Graham Indian Bread, similar to the previous recipe but with cornmeal added. We'll see how we like it. And then maybe we'll make crackers!

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Graham Bread

1 1/8 cups water

1 large egg

2 tablespoons butter, cut into pieces

2 1/4 cup bread flour

3/4 cup graham flour

1/3 cup nonfat dry milk

1/4 cup light brown sugar

2 teaspoons gluten

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

2 1/2 teaspoons bread machine yeast

Place all ingredients in pan. Set crust on medium and program for BASIC or WHOLE WHEAT cycle; press Start.

When baking ends, remove bread from pan and cool on rack before slicing.

Beth Hensperger, The Bread Lover's Bread Machine Cookbook

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Graham Indian Bread

1 cup buttermilk

1/4 cup water

2 tablespoons butter, unsalted, cut into pieces

1 1/2 cups bread flour

1 cup graham flour

1/2 cup yellow cornmeal

3 tablespoons sugar

1 tablespoon gluten

1 1/4 teaspoons salt

2 1/2 teaspoons bread machine yeast

Place all ingredients in pan. Set crust on medium and program for WHOLE WHEAT cycle; press Start.

When baking ends, remove bread from pan and cool on rack before slicing.

Beth Hensperger, The Bread Lover's Bread Machine Cookbook

Snow Daze

Snow + Ice = No School

Again.

It's not a ton of snow, barely an inch, but the icy sheath covering it is very intimidating. Glad we'll be home and sorry that Mama will brave it for work.

At least we have Legos!

Snow, Snow

Go AWAY!

And no ice instead Tuesday.

Legoland, CT

We are completely Lego-looney over here. It started with a few simple Star Wars sets before Christmas and morphed into a giant Hogwarts Castle for Christmas.

And today, while I walked off back stress, the kids and Mama actually built the huge 1290+ piece multi-building set, complete with little drumsticks, torches, retracting stairs, spinning knights, owls, dementors, Sorting Hat, and a Cloak of Invisibility. Sis put together the Great Hall, which she kept calling a church, being unfamiliar with the story. Bud built the wing with the secret library. They both made all the little people. Mama tried to keep track of it all.

For hours, literally four hours, they followed instructions and manipulated the little pieces, studied the building, and made up little stories best they could. Now it's done and installed on our dresser.

But . . . when they went to get my prescriptions, they came home with more Legos! This time, both Star Wars and Hagrid's Hut!

Backwards

Is it the cold? The lack of my regular walking exercise because of the ice and snow? (Walking at the stores just isn't the same.) Strain caused by the elliptical, which we've decided to exchange for a treadmill (but shopping Friday didn't turn up a good one?)? Hormones? Something else? All of the above?

(But not weight gain!! I'm still maintaining, even adding a bit to, my losses, and am less than I've been in years.)

It is not a good back week. Not bad enough to call in reinforcements, but that's a pretty low standard. I'm slipping backwards, it seems: not sleeping well, waking up tight, achy off and on through the day, more numbness in my right foot, strain on my neck and thoracic spine, reducing activities and outings, even wearing my brace a time or two. I had hoped it would dissipate, but I'll be calling the doctor tomorrow for advice, prescriptions, and an appointment. Because today I went walking and made it only 16 minutes before I could almost not stand upright and had spasms in my lumbar.

Not good. Too reminiscent of September, which should be long behind me as I approach the six-month mark here at the beginning of February.

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Update: On a hunch, I called the doctor today. I have an appointment for next Tuesday and a prescription refill today. I'll talk to him later this week about how I'm feeling.

And I spoke to my beloved physical therapist, who is letting me use the office treadmill and was generally supportive and calming.

Call of The Dog Mom

If you follow parenting or cultural trends, no doubt you've seen at least some of the frenzy surrounding Amy Chua, Yale law professor, mom, and author of forthcoming Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. In this book, excerpted in the WSJ a week or so ago under the title "Why Chinese Mothers are Superior," Chua sets forth a strident antidote to what she sees as wishy-washy Western parenting. While she notes that Chinese parenting can be practiced by all manner of people, not just the Chinese, the cultural basis (or bias)--Confucian dedication to education and family--is clear, as she full-heartedly accepts and desires stereotypes of Chinese children with perfect grades, musical virtuosity, blind obedience (as opposed to their wimpy, sports-obsessed, selfish, even stupid "American"--read "white"--counterparts). Her book (apparently, because I sure am not going to pay to read it) is all about how she achieved that with her two daughters in order to stave off generational decline and uphold 4,000 years of cultural and racial supremacy. And if you want all the details--calling them "garbage," making them practice piano without bathroom breaks for 4 hours (the first hour is easy, she notes), refusing homemade cards from them because the kids didn't try hard enough, and never allowing sleepovers and playdates--check out the links. Though, apparently, at the end she recants somewhat, when the younger one repels.

Now apparently, she's recanting and backpedaling a lot because the internet exploded: more than 5000 people commented on the post with large numbers of posts in the blogosphere as well. These run the gambit from "I hope this sounds the death-knell of Attachment Parenting" to "arrest this woman for child abuse," from "my folks were like that and I'm okay" to "my folks were like that and I was relieved and happy when they died." The NYTimes alone has run several posts and articles: Lisa Belkin's original Motherlode post on the trend, a Room to Debate forum on extreme parenting with experts on subjects ranging from Chinese culture to psychology, guest blogs on imperfect but happy kids at Motherlode, Belkin's recent follow-up "The Tiger Mother Speaks" with excerpts from "Retreat of the Tiger Mother," and Judith Warner's essay "No More Mrs. Nice Mom."Plus similar comments on all of those.

And all I will say, considering my proximity to Chinese parenting and first-generation Chinese-American parenting, is that I'm not a Tiger Mother. I'm a Dog Mom (no, seriously, born the Year of the Dog): affectionate, full of fun, protective, dependable, loyal. I have a bark, for sure, but know better than to bite. Even Mama, who was actually born in the Year of the Tiger, is more of a Dog. Because our goal is not just successful, accomplished, disciplined children but happy, creative, independent, moral, and kind ones, too. Though, in the end, we are all trying to do our best, however that plays itself out (I'm not going to judge Chua's parenting, not knowing her or her kids; besides, she is, in the first place, selling a polemical book and did, in the second, recant). I just wish, especially because I have two half-Chinese children, that she could've toned down the stereotypes.

The Egg-and-Flour Miracles

It's not spring by any stretch of the imagination, but we've been having an egg marathon over here, making several delectable delights featuring a magical combination of eggs and flour. And depending, add butter, fruit, cheese, maple syrup, and/or Nutella, and you have something really special. All the recipes are very similar--more eggs than anything else, sometimes milk, a bit of butter, scant measurements of flour--skillet fried or baked, stuffed or sauced: Dutch Baby Pancakes, Swedish Apple Pie, crepes, and blintzes.

(And since today is Meatless Monday for us, egg dishes are perfect!)

Dreamers of Dreams

To commemorate Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, we have read President Obama's new and wonderful book Of Thee I Sing and watched a bit of King's "I have a Dream" speech this morning. The miracle of technology, that. Almost 50 years after the speech, the daughter of a woman who grew up in a segregated town with a separate bathroom for the help, just like in the book of that title, can show her bi-racial children living in a lesbian household a speech calling for freedom and equality for all:

". . . . I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.

This will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with a new meaning, "My country, 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim's pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring."

And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!

Let freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado!

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!

But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"

Winning Strategy

"Mom," pleaded Bud, "I need five chocolate chips."

"It's almost dinner."

"It's for Sis. She said if I got her chocolate, she'd let me be the gray soldiers."

I gotta tell you, I was so amused by Sis's chocolate strategy that I actually gave him the chocolate!

And yes, then like dominoes, he gave them to her, and she gave him the soldiers.

Hmmmm, parenting by chocolate.

It beats being the "Tiger Mother."

Thoughts and Prayers

For my mom's brother, my uncle, in Austin, who fainted last night and is undergoing tests at the hospital. Best wishes for a speedy recovery and no long-lasting effects.

Return to Normal

The kids are at school.

Mama is at work.

I'm here at home.

Things are business-as-usual.

Well, except for the accumulation of 2' of snow outside!

A Stitch in Time

For the first time in at least 5 months, I picked up yarn and hook today. I don't know why, except I knew I wasn't going to bake again today or read much more or type anything (except this post, I guess), and I wanted something to do (see, the kids have self-entertained almost all day, which is practically unheard of!). So I laid a 10-stitch foundation chain to make a little pink scarf for Sis. Sure, it's simple single crochet, with only 6 little rows so far, but it's the most I've tried in a long time. So long in fact that I had to brush up on my SC stitch (and am proud to say I remembered it correctly). And it feels so good. Only doing a bit at a time, while standing, but loving the feel of the chunky but soft pink yarn (not sure what it is, the label long gone as the skein languished in my yarn holder) and the ease with which my big birch Brittany M hook glides through yarn and fingers.

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My Simple One-Skein Scarf

With M hook, ch 10

Row 1: sc in 2nd stitch from hook and in each ch across

Row 2: ch 1, turn, sc in each sc across,

Row 3 etc.: repeat Row 2 until scarf is the desired length, fasten off and weave in ends.

Mommy Hungry

A Good Day for Compassion

I didn't watch the televised memorial for the victims of Tuscon's shooting, with President Obama, last night. But I'm reading about it this morning (here and here and here and here and here).

And I am inspired.

“At a time when our discourse has become so sharply polarized, at a time when we are far too eager to lay the blame for all that ails the world at the feet of those who think differently than we do, it’s important for us to pause for a moment and make sure that we are talking with each other in a way that heals, not in a way that wounds. . . .

"So sudden loss causes us to look backward – but it also forces us to look forward, to reflect on the present and the future, on the manner in which we live our lives and nurture our relationships with those who are still with us. We may ask ourselves if we've shown enough kindness and generosity and compassion to the people in our lives. Perhaps we question whether we are doing right by our children, or our community, and whether our priorities are in order. We recognize our own mortality, and are reminded that in the fleeting time we have on this earth, what matters is not wealth, or status, or power, or fame – but rather, how well we have loved, and what small part we have played in bettering the lives of others. . . .

"The loss of these wonderful people should make every one of us strive to be better in our private lives – to be better friends and neighbors, co-workers and parents. And if, as has been discussed in recent days, their deaths help usher in more civility in our public discourse, let's remember that it is not because a simple lack of civility caused this tragedy, but rather because only a more civil and honest public discourse can help us face up to our challenges as a nation, in a way that would make them proud. . . .

"I believe we can be better. Those who died here, those who saved lives here – they help me believe. We may not be able to stop all evil in the world, but I know that how we treat one another is entirely up to us. I believe that for all our imperfections, we are full of decency and goodness, and that the forces that divide us are not as strong as those that unite us."

We can all use a little more compassion in our lives, a word I'll use instead of civility, which strikes me now as almost too politicized. Compassion is the act of listening to and for the feelings and needs of ourselves and others in order to connect with each other.

And despite all the focus on talk radio and politicians, the public, national, political forum isn't the only arena that requires more compassion. We've all bemoaned drivers' manners while merging, people's attitudes in parking lots and grocery lines, neighbors' disagreements about yards and mowing. And of course, too much yelling and bossing in the family. But it's not just "them." I know, because I've been both complainer and complained about.

So, this morning, our second snow day, as I stand and read about tragedy and sadness not only in Arizona but all over the world, I embrace my family and re-commit myself to compassion. (But, as for talking to the kiddos about Tuscon, I won't be unless somehow they hear about it; see here.)

And, though we have no rain puddles in the Connecticut suburbs today, we're going to go play in the snow later today. In honor of Christina Taylor Green and with hope and compassion for us all . . .

A Trio of Cozy Treats

Keeping warm and busy these last 24 hours with lots of baking.

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Cranberry Orange Bread

1 orange, preferably untreated
2 Tbs (30 g) unsalted butter, ideally at room temperature, cubed
1 egg
1 cup (200 g) sugar
1 cup fresh cranberries, thawed if frozen
½ cup (50 g) coarsely chopped walnuts (I used almonds)
2 cups (250 g) flour
1 tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt

Preheat oven to 325F.

Grate orange zest and set aside. Juice orange and add enough boiling water to make 3/4 cup. Add cubes of butter and stir until melted.

In another bowl, beat egg and sugar until well blended. Then pour orange mixture into sugar mixture and combine.

Fold cranberries and walnuts into batter.

In a separate bowl, combine flour, powder, soda, and salt. Stir into batter until well-blended.

Spread batter into one large, two medium, or three small loaf pans (I greased them first). (I also sprinkled with raw sugar.) Bake approximately 1 hour until top is golden brown.

from Life's a Feast

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Walnut-Raisin No-Knead Bread
Makes 1 loaf

Ingredients
3 cups flour
1/4 teaspoon instant yeast
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
2/3 cup walnuts, chopped
1/2 cup Thompson raisins (I used craisins)
1 2/3 cups water
Cornmeal or more flour as needed

Combine the flour, yeast, and salt in a large bowl. Add the walnuts and raisins and stir to distribute. Pour the water over the flour mixture, then use a rubber spatula to mix them together and form a soft, ugly dough. Cover with plastic wrap and leave to rise for about 12 hours, until there are bubbles across the top.

Dump the dough out onto a floured, non-terrycloth dishtowel. Let it rest for 15 minutes. Then, using as little flour as possible, shape the dough into a ball by folding the ends in. Turn onto a cornmeal-dusted non-terrycloth dishtowel, seam side down. Dust with more cornmeal, then cover with another towel. Leave for two hours. (That's Santa's rise.)

When there's a half hour left to go of this rise, preheat the oven to 450°F and put a covered, heavy pot in the oven.( I use my 5.5 quart LeCreuset to achieve a well-proportioned loaf.) When the dough is ready, carefully take the pot out of the oven. Dump the dough, seam side up, into the pot and shake it to spread evenly. Cover and bake for 20-30 minutes. Uncover and bake for another 15-30 minutes, until deeply brown and crusty. Let the bread rest as long as you can before slicing into it.

I store my bread in an airtight baggie, even though this makes the crust soft. To "re-crust" a whole loaf, you can dab it all over with water and bake for about 10 minutes in a 450°F oven. If you're going slice by slice, just toast to rectify the crust.

from Big Girls, Small Kitchen at Huffingtonpost.com

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Mark Bittman's Muffins, Infinite Ways

Makes: 12 medium or 8 large muffins

Time: About 40 minutes

The only real difference between muffins and other quick breads is the pan you bake them in. But those little muffin cups allow for a lot more potential variation, depending on what you do at the last minute before baking.

Anything goes when it comes to varying this master recipe. See the variations below for more ways to spike the recipe. Recipe from How to Cook Everything.

3 tablespoons melted butter or neutral oil, like grapeseed or corn, plus more for the muffin tin

2 cups all-purpose flour

1/4 cup sugar, or to taste

1/2 teaspoon salt

3 teaspoons baking powder

1 egg

1 cup milk, plus more if needed

1. Heat the oven to 375°F. Grease a 12-cup muffin tin and line it with paper or foil muffin cups if you like.

2. Mix together the dry ingredients in a bowl. Beat together the egg, milk, and melted butter or oil in another bowl. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and pour the wet ingredients into it. Using a large spoon or rubber spatula, combine the ingredients swiftly, stirring and folding rather than beating and stopping as soon as all the dry ingredients are moistened. The batter should be lumpy, not smooth, and thick but quite moist; add a little more milk or other liquid if necessary.

3. Spoon the batter into the muffin tins, filling them about two-thirds full and handling the batter as little as possible. (If you prefer bigger muffins, fill 8 cups almost to the top; pour 1/4 cup water into the empty cups.) Bake for about 20 minutes (about 30 minutes for larger muffins) or until nicely browned and a toothpick inserted in the center of a muffin comes out clean. Remove from the oven and let rest for 5 minutes before taking them out of the tin. Serve warm.

**Sis and Bud's Variations: We halved the batter, adding a 1/2 cup fresh blueberries and dusting with sugar for Bud and 1/2 cup chocolate chips and topping with more chips for Sis. Perfection.

Banana-Nut Muffins. These are good with half bran or whole wheat flour: Add 1/2 cup roughly chopped walnuts, pecans, or cashews to the dry ingredients. Substitute 1 cup mashed very ripe banana for 3/4 cup of the milk. Use honey or maple syrup in place of sugar if possible.

Bran Muffins. Substitute 1 cup oat or wheat bran for 1 cup of the flour (you can use whole wheat flour for the remainder if you like). Use 2 eggs and honey, molasses, or maple syrup as the sweetener. Add 1/2 cup raisins to the prepared batter if you like.

Sour Cream or Yogurt Muffins. Reduce the baking powder to 1 teaspoon and add 1/2 teaspoon baking soda to the dry ingredients. Substitute 11/4 cups sour cream or yogurt for the milk and cut the butter or oil back to 1 tablespoon.

Spice Muffins. Add 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, 1/2 teaspoon each ground allspice and ground ginger, and 1 pinch ground cloves and mace or nutmeg to the dry ingredients; use 1 cup whole wheat flour in place of 1 cup all-purpose flour. Add 1/2 cup raisins, currants, dates, or dried figs to the prepared batter if you like.

Blueberry or Cranberry Muffins. Try substituting cornmeal for up to 1/2 cup of the flour: Add 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon to the dry ingredients; increase the sugar to 1/2 cup. Stir 1 cup fresh blueberries or cranberries into the batter at the last minute. You can also use frozen blueberries or cranberries here; do not defrost them first. Blueberry muffins are good with 1/2 teaspoon grated lemon zest added to the batter along with the wet ingredients. Cranberry muffins are excellent with 1/2 cup chopped nuts and/or 1 tablespoon minced orange zest added to the prepared batter.

Sweet and Rich Muffins. Like cake: Use butter and increase the quantity to 6 tablespoons (3/4 stick); increase the sugar to 3/4 cup. Use 2 eggs and decrease the milk to 1/2 cup, or more if needed. In Step 2, after mixing together the dry ingredients, cream the butter and sugar together with a wooden spoon or electric mixer and in a small bowl beat together the eggs with the milk. Add about a third of the dry ingredients to the butter-sugar mixture, then moisten with a little of the milk. Repeat until all the ingredients are used up, taking care not to over-mix. The batter should be lumpy, not smooth, and thick but moist; add a little more milk or other liquid if necessary.

Lighter Muffins. A little more work, with noticeable results: Use 2 eggs and separate them. Add the yolks as usual; beat the whites until stiff but not dry and fold in very gently at the last moment.

Coffee Cake Muffins. Mix together 1/2 cup packed brown sugar; 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon; 1 cup finely chopped walnuts, pecans, or cashews; and 2 extra tablespoons melted butter. Stir half of this mixture into the original batter with the wet ingredients and sprinkle the rest on top before baking.

Savory Muffins. Cut the sugar back to 1 tablespoon. Add up to 1 cup of cooked minced onion or leek and shredded cheese to the batter just before baking.

Mark Bittman

Wow

Just "wow."

The snow is . . . wow.

First Flakes

Yep, the first flakes are falling slowly, visible in the streetlight. It'll be a few hours less than 24 hours of snow, with between 10-15" possible. No school, of course. And I think I'm going to bake an apple pie.

Something New Everyday Day

Sis was diligently working on her clay diorama when she asked, very seriously, "Mom, do worms have eyes?'

Mentally picturing numerous cartoon worms with eyes, I said, "yep," but also googled "worms" and "eyes," as I did so. So I could show her an image to base her diorama worm on.

But lo and behold, worms don't have eyes, specifically, just photoreceptors. And now we know.

Gotta get that diorama scientifically correct, you know.

Project: Diorama!

Remember those wonderful shoebox creations of elementary-school education?

Sis and Bud have been assigned their first school project: to create a shelter for an animal, using paper, collage, whatever materials, to bring into school next week. And Sis and Bud are set on doing dioramas in shoeboxes--their ideas, not ours because we are trying hard to let it be their projects.

Sis is doing a shelter for a bunny, a burrow, visible where the bunny sticks its head up out of the ground. She's doing it in modeling clay right now. There's a sun, tree, worm, cat grass, and a duck pond with a duck. I'm supposed to go to the store and buy more colors of clay.

Bud wants to do a beaver lodge, complete with real sticks and maybe a toy beaver from our little animal collection. He's not working on his right now, which is fine, especially as he is independently rebuilding the Lego Wampa cave piece by piece.

So, you know what we'll, I mean, er, they will be doing over the next several days!

Shufflin' Off to Buffalo

No, we're not taking a swazu north. Actually, it seems as if Buffalo is coming here, as we stare down the probability of 10-16" of snow tonight and tomorrow. That will be our third major snowstorm in two weeks, which is relatively rare for Connecticut . . . and still all over our yard up to several inches.

Not that I'm complaining. I like snow and all of our activities and traditions accompanying it. I don't mind school being canceled, delayed, or dismissed early. I like that the kids get to grow up with snow--and snowmen and snow angels and snow ice cream and snow days--which even after 18 years of living in snow country (earning my stripes, so to speak, in Chicago in the late 90s, and the NYC blizzard of '96), is still new and novel for me. I love it when Mama opts to stay home, even if it means she has to snow blow and shovel. Sure I do dislike, even fear (and this goes back way before my injury), black ice, slippery walks, and half-frozen slush. But, for the time being, with the excitement of the oncoming storm, then the beauty of the falling snow, followed by the enthusiasm for playing in it, I'm happy that this winter is what old timers say Connecticut used to always be like.

High-Pressure Sales

She's sold 197 boxes of cookies.

In four days.

With some help, of course, but still. Sis is amazing to see in action, shyly walking up to friends, neighbors, churchgoers with a smile on her face as she reaches up to them with her outstretched order form.

"What have you got there?" they ask. Hooked.

She doesn't even have to answer before they've ordered five boxes for themselves and three more for the troops!

She does remember to tell them that cookies are $4 a box, points out types they might not have bought ("there are also sugar cookies! And two kinds of peanut butter!"), and even handily reminds them about donating cookies to charity. She is very adept at determining whom to approach and keeping track of whom she's missed. She dragged Mama around church on Sunday, verbally ticking off all the people who might like cookies and then following them around fellowship until they noticed her. Here at home, she remembers that two houses weren't occupied on our first pass through and she's ready to go back. And tonight she (wisely) hit up Pop, having already gotten Gommie's order, which he more than doubled!

One of our church friends who is active in cookie sales in her area said that Daisies and Brownies always rake in the sales because they are too adorably irresistible. It even works when she's not present, as evidenced by Mama's mere mention at her office that her kindergartener is selling cookies, which netted more than 100 boxes (I think half of which are for the troops, as the Girl Scouts now have this "Gift of Caring" donation if you don't want the cookies yourself).

It's been fun to watch, both Sis's successful scheming sales tactic (all that going up to talk to people is not her usual M.O.) and Mama's incredulity at it all, this being her first cookie sale. And fun to remember my own cookie sales, door to door, 75 cents a box in the beginning!, before there were Samoas (I remember when they started; Tagalongs too), me and my next-door neighbor, both in uniform, dividing up the area early on a Saturday morning, with the goal to sell 50 boxes to earn the patch. My best year, I sold 75 boxes got a tiny stuffed koala bear.

At 197 boxes and counting, Sis will probably earn a stuffed kangaroo. Not much has changed in 30-odd years.

Meatless Mondays: The Beginning

Even with a vegetarian in the family, we've been slow to sign on to "Meatless Mondays." Part laziness to try to appease my diametrically-opposed eaters, part not interested in foisting my vegetarianism on the kids or making it a "thing," we talked about it last night and are on board to help the planet and our bodies. All of us. Though, Bud initially misunderstood, thinking it was all meat on Mondays!

We brainstormed some ideas, lots of eggs and breakfast foods like pancakes and crepes and oatmeal. Sis doesn't eat sauce, particularly tomato, so most pastas are out. Bud doesn't eat any kind of potato. Neither likes any kind of layered dish or casserole. And I promised not to make them eat beans.

I have my work cut out for me.

But they're game to try, intrigued and curious, which is a good first step. Of course, I have tons of cookbooks and even more websites (like here) to check for recipes. And really, if all we do is end up eating fruit on Mondays (and yes, we're including lunch as well as dinner), it's good. So, tonight, we're having mac and cheese and veggies. And dessert--Swedish Apple Pie.

I'll keep you posted.

Which Camp are You In?

The sort your Silly Bandz/throw away party favors after 24 hours/get rid of art and trophies unless exceptional group or the build forts with the sofa/set up playscapes on the floor/have a whole area for dress up group?

You read my blog, some of you have been to my house and seen me with the kids, you know my answer: even if somedays I want the uber-organized house, I realize they'll only have Silly Bandz and want to build forts for a little while longer. And the mess is worth it, more even than I thought.

(Besides, I'm convinced that if you don't teach kids, or even adults, to reduce/reuse/recycle/redistribute their belongings themselves (instead of hiring a professional organizer to do it for them), they'll never learn how. So we're learning altogether.)

Thoughts and Prayers

For Rep. Gabrielle Giffords of Arizona and her family.

More on the Way

Pictures of snow . . . and more actual snow tonight. It really is quite beautiful.

The Unbearable Heaviness of Legos

Bud loves Legos. He loves putting them together; he loves playing with them. And then he loves taking some of them apart and doing it all over again.

Except when they come apart when he doesn't want them to. Which they do regularly.

And then he's sad. And upset. And frustrated. Because he can currently only put them together sequentially from the beginning, not in trouble-shooting mode.

Then I'm sad. And upset. And frustrated. Because he brings me these half-broken, fragile Lego models with pieces missing and I don't know what to do. Literally. See, I'm not very good with spatial reasoning, never did well at those tests where you see a diagram and have to predict the shape, can't read a map at a glance, never turn the right way, can't fit that extra bit into the dishwasher, luggage, or fridge. I can stare at those Lego models and not be able to follow the diagrammatic instructions nor even replicate one side based on its symmetrical counterpart.

And he looks at me so disappointedly, realizing I'm not the amazing, fix-it-all Mommy he thought, because I get just as frustrated and am just as helpless. And just as disappointed that there are increasingly things that I can't fix for him. Maybe if he weren't there, weren't waiting expectedly, I might be able to figure out the construction in time, with practice. But not under pressure, not with an impatient and increasingly disappointed audience. Not with all the emotion hanging in the balance.

So we both just end up in tears.

Now . . . Again

On Snow

Zoe Lewis sings a song with the refrain "let's get poetic, city girl," describing how her girlfriend compared the sliver of the moon to a fingernail and other urban or unnatural comparisons.

I was thinking of that song tonight, which lyrics I can't find online (and I only have the song on tape somewhere), as I looked out at the snow. Because there is only one way to describe the chunky, heavy, thick layer covering us now: it's like the explosion of the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.

Now

As the Snow Goes

Well, there's supposed to be snow. Sometime. Just not yet. Kids all over the area are home, either all day or early; mine are no exception. We've wistfully put out our snow ice cream containers, made minestrone soup in the crockpot for lunch and sourdough biscuits for breakfast, and are making all kinds of Lego creations and contraptions with the new kits from Babysitter. And brimming with enthusiasm, Sis even went door-to-door to our neighbors to sell cookies! So far, so good. And I might even see some flurries . . . .

Hogwarts Revisited

Sure, everybody else saw the new Harry Potter movie way back in November, but a variety of occurrences (or non), including the lack of a babysitter and a blizzard, had kept us away til now. And we were lucky to find a showing. So even though Mama is battling a mild flu (mild because she had her shot, the doctor says) and I had to stand through most of it, we went out last night, thinking the movie wouldn't be in theaters much longer. And it's our one trip to the multiplex for 2011! (Having not gone once in 2010, I believe).

And we loved it.

Certainly not because it was fun, uplifting, cheerful, or anything like that. Those of you who follow the books and/or films know that the end is not pretty, unless it's pretty gruesome. Death, torture, anger, separation, loss, sadness, struggle, uncertainty. For those of you not in the know, it's kinda like the Empire Strikes Back of the series: as the heroes are thwarted at every turn, nothing really positive happens except a clear progression to the climax in the next and last film.

But the effects were amazing (I especially liked the graphics of the "Deathly Hallows" tale), the acting mature, the pacing nonstop even with all that staying in tents which took so long in the book. And who doesn't like watching British greats Alan Rickman, Helena Bonham Carter, Ralph Fiennes, Imelda Staunton, and even a cameo by Sophie Thompson, despite the abbreviated screen times? I've loved Rowling's wizarding world from the first read oh-so-many years (has it been more than a decade?), watching and rewatching the movies with Mama, and now waiting to share it with the kiddos, who are already curious about Harry and his friends.

So last night, even as we wiped away tears, we were loving it. The next film comes out in July: no blizzards then and our babysitter will be home from college! Call it a date.

Cookie Time!

Shortbreads. Do-Si-Dos. Tagalongs. Thin Mints.

SAMOAS!

Yep, it's that annual event and girlhood rite of passage: Girl Scout cookie time!

Sis is selling cookies and I'm the cookie mom (officially, as troop co-leader).

Wish us luck!

(We'd be glad to sell them to people we know, though no pressure. Just use my personal email).

We're Okay

For those of you concerned about the tone and/or content of my post regarding institutions, we're okay here. Really. Just overwhelmed on Tuesday about all of it. Today (admittedly less hormonal) things are fine. Though, there has been no change in the change.

Except Mama has the flu or something like it and is home again today.

On the upside, it's going to snow tomorrow (yes, I count that as an upside, with 2-8" or something like). And Mama's dad pulled through neck surgery just fine on Tuesday and is home and comfortable (lest you think I ignored all that, I was asked not to dwell). And Girl Scout Cookie sales start tomorrow. And tonight is date night. Flu or no flu, THE BABYSITTER is coming.

Have a good day!

Our Own Loquat Tree

There was a party in our backyard this weekend. And we found the evidence yesterday after school. Running around in the back and front, the kids noticed all sorts of footprints, mostly human but not all. Intrigued, we followed them around the yard, spotting different paths, different shapes. Exactly what kinds of animals had visited us? Sis thought black bear. Bud believes birds flew around but didn't land. After taking pictures of several of the tracks, we headed inside to our trusty computer and looked up different animal tracks. We eliminated black bear, as well as opossum, deer, fox, coyote. That left squirrel and raccoon, with very similar prints complete with claws but in two different sizes. And then there were the droppings. Not of any of those animals above, we checked. Turns out that it's proof of our resident bunny, whom Mama sees at night in the yard when she comes home. Sis was ecstatic. We called Mama; we called Pop. They wanted to call all of their school friends to report on the clues. Bud termed us "Bud, Sis, and Mommy the Great," after the Nate the Great books we like to read. The animals weren't the only ones who had a party.

out in the back by the grape stake fence
is a place where nature makes so much sense
all the creatures livin' in harmony
it's a wild wild party in the loquat tree

fuzzies and furries run walk or fly
havin' a feast beneath a clear blue sky
animals comin' from miles around
to bounce the branch and shake the loquat down

the squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
all havin' a party in the loquat tree
eatin' all the yellow fruit they can see
it's a wild wild party in the loquat tree

--Indigo Girls, "Wild Wild Party in the Loquat Tree"

Un-Grounded

As in, the opposite of being grounded.

A couple of our local groups and institutions (much less those on a national or global scale) are in a state of flux right now and it's unsettling me. From one perspective, my own relatively young and inexperienced one, this is ground-shaking; for others in the know, change is constant and not as unnerving. Though, these particular institutions mean a lot to me, are the core of my personal community, and I did not foresee change coming. For now, a path to helping, resolving, fixing is unclear. I can watch and worry and ruminate, none of which helps, only serves to frustrate, stress, or even anger me. When my mind is calm, I see clearly that the particularities of it all and even many of the possible outcomes are okay. Both because everything serves a purpose, but also because we are financially fortunate enough to have some options. And then I feel as if I'm giving up without the proverbial or actual fight. Or I feel helpless to affect real change. So I'm in a state of flux too. It's almost as if I'm walking through the various stages of grief. Back and forth.

So I'm remembering to meditate and be present and give myself and others compassion, all those spiritual and mental resources I gathered in calmer times. Of course, now it's more of a challenge, this practice. And I'm still very much at the beginning. But I know that that's okay, too.

Back to It

No, this is not a post about my back, which has been good--had five of my best days yet this week (before hormones hit); I understand that the 6-month mark, coming up at the beginning of February, usually marks significant recovery. 'Bout time.

It's about getting back to "regular." The kids are at school. We ran our usual morning schedule. (Though, Mama reported a lot less traffic today.) I took my walk outside after they left, avoiding the frozen patches of melted snow, admiring the shadows of the trees in the stark light, looking for the lone goose honking above my head. Then I did some email about school and Daisy Scouts. Now I'm blogging. The kids will be home in about 2 hours, probably tired or cranky, exhilarated or excited; it could go either way, or both, or something else entirely.

Yep, it's back to normal.

Tidbits

from church . . . .

The kids made resolutions bracelets in Faith Formation (a.k.a. Religious Education, Sunday school, church school) yesterday to remind them about their own goals. Sis's was "to make Star Wars cookies for class," a resolution the teacher was all to happy to tell me about! Bud decided to "watch Clone Wars," which apparently then kicked off a long discussion among the class about which movie is the best ever. Later, though, I heard him say his other resolution was "to give stuff we don't use to people who need it."

-=-=-=-=-=-

While lining up to change activities during class, I heard the teacher tell everyone to line up just like Sis and Bud, the only two in line (I wasn't in service but walking the hallways to stretch). Later she told me she uses them as examples a lot because they follow directions. I laughed, "Is that good or bad? Does that mean Mama and I are maybe too dictatorial at home?" She said she didn't care, as long as it worked!

-=-=-=-=-=-

After church, we went to lunch at the hibachi place, something we'd checked with them beforehand given their on-again, off-again fear of the flames. "Mom, we're five now," Bud explained. "Kindergarteners aren't scared of anything."

He then inhaled a platter of sushi and a shrimp stir-fry, while she waxed poetic about the chicken. Both of them want me to cook like that--on a hot grill with tons of butter and soy sauce--at home.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Best of all, at the restaurant, Bud's sushi platter (which he shared with Mama) came with a single purple orchid. A flower. In winter. When I pointed this out, Sis was ecstatic: she could now use the flower press that Cousin Hungry gave her for Christmas. We prepped and pressed the flower as soon as we got home, but Sis hadn't understood it could take a week or two. I have a feeling we'll be heading to the florist, or back for sushi, before spring!

New Year's Cheery Cherry

We're making pie. Something sweet to usher in the new year, something Mama has been hankering for, especially since I began reading (and talking about) another memoir/travelogue about pie, American Pie by Pascale Draoulec. Using an amalgam of sources, mainly various King Arthur Flour recipes and instructions, I've cobbled together a cherry pie. You might remember that I'm not experienced in the pie realm, having only made a couple of other crusts from scratch, usually preferring to top my apple with crumb or to make berry cobblers instead. Yes, I'm one of those competent home bakers who is afraid of pie crust. But with the bread pledge earlier this year, I started learning about crust. And here are some tips I've picked up along the way.

• Cold is important: cold butter, ice water. I even put my wooden rolling pin in the freezer for awhile.
• While I didn't do it this time, experienced pie makers seem to put apple cider vinegar, lemon juice, milk, or buttermilk powder in their dough. I need to look into this, particularly measurements.
• Butter vs. lard vs. vegetable shortening seems to be a matter of taste, or flaky vs. tender. We did a butter-shortening combo.
• When you have your disk of dough (before you wrap and refrigerate it), roll it on its edge to minimize cracking and tearing when you roll it out. It really works.
• Roll to approximately 1/8" thick. Be sure to know how big your pie plate is: add 3-4" to inside diameter for bottom crust and approximately 1-2" to top crust. Roll in one direction (outwards), not back and forth.
• Brush bottom crust with wash (we used milk) and then brush top crust with wash and sprinkle with sugar. Be sure to vent.
• For filling: shamefully, we admit to using canned cherry filling, doctored with cinnamon and almond extract. Today, we could only manage one homemade component. (Though, Mama didn't really like the almond extract in the end.)
• Apparently, metal vs. glass vs. ceramic makes a difference. I used ceramic. Apparently metal is the most inconsistent nowadays?
• Bake pies on foil-covered sheets to prevent spillage and splatter.
• Bake with foil or pie shield on crust so it doesn't burn. Remove 10-15 minutes before pie is done so the crust can brown.
• Let pie sit out til cold to eat so filling solidifies. Yeah, right. Who can wait?

Update: 24 hours later, the pie is gone. It was wonderful. And I was so proud. I might be a convert to pie, having preferred breads, cakes, and cookies before this. The kids have been calling it "the best pie in Connecticut." I'm ready to make pie every week. And Mama and the kids can't wait! I do have a Hubbard Squash on the porch and there was a recipe in my book in the last chapter . . . .

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Our New Year's Cheery Cherry Pie

Crust

2 1/2 cups flour

3/4 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup vegetable shortening

1/2 cup cold unsalted butter

1/2 cup plus 1-2 tablespoons cold water

Filling

2 cans cherry pie filling

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon almond extract

pats of butter

*Contrary to instructions, I made the dough in the food processor. Combine flour and salt in food processor. Add shortening and pulse until it resembles small peas. In small pieces, add butter until it resembles small flakes. Add water, 2 tablespoons at a time, until the dough comes together when pinched. Dump onto cold work surface, fold dough over on itself 3-4 times, divide in half, make two disks, roll edges of disks, and cover in plastic wrap. Refrigerate at least 30 minutes.

Combine cherries, cinnamon, and almond extract. Set aside.

Preheat oven to 425F. Roll out one disk of dough on well-floured surface until approximately 1/8" thick and about 12" in diameter for 9" pie plate. Fold in quarters and unfold in position. Pat down and brush with milk wash.

Pour filling into pie shell. Dot with pats of butter. Roll out remaining disk of dough. Cut out cute shapes, if desirable (I did our initials and a star). Fold in quarters, move to pie, and unfold. Fold bottom crust up over edge of top crust and pinch together; flute with fingers or pinch with fork. Add additional vents, if necessary. Brush on milk wash and sprinkle sugar. Cover edges with pie shield.

Bake at 400 for 15 minutes. Reduce temperature to 350F and bake an additional 35-50 minutes, being sure to remove shield as crust gets brown so edges can brown too. Remove pie from oven when golden brown and bubbly, allowing it to cool and rest on a wire rack.

Serve with vanilla ice cream!

from King Arthur Flour website and the Mr. Washington's Cherry Pie in King Arthur Flour Baker's Companion (the rewrite of the recipe directions is mine).

Of Rituals and Resolutions

The kids were asking us yesterday what some of our New Year's rituals are, knowing that our Chinese New Year's celebrations are highly ritualized. But we're pretty casual about the start of a new year--we didn't even stay up until midnight (though we taped the ball drop to watch later today)! Today we'll hang out, eat black-eyed peas and cornbread and greens (well, I will), and, perhaps most anticipated, watch The Clone Wars movie. And I'm adding a new thing: we'll make a dessert, this year a cherry pie (homemade crust, canned filling), a sweet to usher in a sweet new year. And Mama has a hankering for pie, especially since I've been reading Pascale le Draoulec's American Pie, about her pie odyssey across middle America (so far, I would more highly recommend Anne Dimock's Humble Pie, for a generational discussion of piemaking).

Anyway, we told the kids that many people make resolutions, or promises to try to achieve things in the new year. The kids have resolved to "make more books," one of their favorite activities being to draw sequential pictures in a narrative of their own making. They also said they wanted to learn to read this year (yes, yes, I prodded them on that one). And to "do kung fu" everyday. We also talked about living our values, something I'm going to keep in front of me this year, what they've been calling "faith in action" in church school. So we talked specifically about principles 1 and 7, i.e. the inherent worth and dignity of all people and the interconnected web of life on earth, which translates for the kids to respect people and reduce/reuse/recycle. A subset of that last one is a guideline I read about somewhere: when deciding on what to buy green, spend the most money on items closest to your body (i.e. food, fabrics, body products, cleaning products) and the least on those furthest (curtains, furniture, etc--though, does offgassing of those products count? Still working on this one). It was a fruitful conversation.

Mama and I have some other goals for 2011, think of it as ideas we want to foreground more than as "resolutions," specifically:

1. Live our values.

2. Be mindful.

3. Eschew judgement.

4. We will strive to do what we're thinking about, an inelegant way of saying that it's not good enough just to think about sending a card or calling or volunteering or donating, you have to do it. Sometimes we lack follow-through.

5. And one that has become more obvious to us recently: it's okay to run out or not have enough of something. Overabundance is not only not necessary, it's detrimental. This became obvious in planning food for Applepalooza, but also in how much I cook for dinner, what's stocked in the cabinets, number of Christmas presents, etc etc. Funny that this notion would be a surprise to us, but I guess we did come of age in the 1980s and 1990s, the complete opposite of the Great Depression.

Lastly, I'll be posting our semi-annual "Family Questionnaire" of likes and dislikes, which in a way record for me where we are and what's changed. And for the first time ever, the kiddos will get to participate.

Happy New Year!

Wishing you a very happy 2011!

(Check the time stamp: 11:11 on 1/1/11! I actually typed this last night but was intrigued by the numbers and so saved it.)