The Rest is Still Unwritten

(Gommie, etc: There is no new news or appointments. This is just a summary.)

So, first, the MRI shows that my back pain is nothing more than the scoliosis causing joint inflammation and perhaps some disc degeneration.

But the radiologists also had what they call an "incidental finding": basically, a gray spot where there shouldn't be one. This could be just a blurry MRI mistake, from movement or something else. A "false positive," the doctor called it. Or it could be some kind of demylinization, caused by some autoimmune disease like MS or ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease, which killed my grandmother Bammie, though they say it isn't hereditary). That would be bad.

So, there will be another MRI, with dye contrast, and a consultation with a neurologist, all of which will take longer than I'd like.

For now, I'm just taking it one day at a time, trying not to imagine the worst-case. But that's easier said than done. So I guess I'm spreading my worries around to friends, family, and the internet at large, if only to ease them.

It's been hard not to cry and worry, especially because Sis sang to me last night the song from their upcoming graduation:

"You've got a friend in me
You've got a friend in me
When the road looks rough ahead
And you're miles and miles
From your nice warm bed
Just remember what your old pal said
Boy, you've got a friend in me
You've got a friend in me
You've got a friend in me
You've got a friend in me
You've got troubles, well I've got 'em too
There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you
We stick together and we see it through
You've got a friend in me
You've got a friend in me"

I love that girl, and her brother, and Mama, and my parents, and my sister, and all my family and friends. Thanks for being with me with this, regardless of what this is.

In the Paper

A quickie:

• Using Facebook to grieve for a son
• Parenting Dilemma: How to Punish Someone who Wrecks a $180K Car?
• "The clutter on the fridge door tended to predict the amount of clutter elsewhere." An intensive anthropological study of middle-class, American families with 2 working parents.
• man who has been going to Sardi's for almost 80 years
• Choking hazards and warnings on food for kids
• A restaurateur who hates children's menus (how would you feel about being forced to eat dead bunny? or raw fish?)
• About two books on health, one a history of 100 years of diets

My Parenting Rules

It is said by "experts" that my kiddos are in the testing phase (or isn't that every age?), where they test boundaries and rules, trying to understand their world or at least their parents. And so we've been talking a lot about our seven Unitarian Universalist Principles recently. I find they're a great touchstone, especially when we are discussing difficult situations or concepts. We even have them posted on the fridge and regularly sing them to remember what they are:

(Sing to the tune "Do-Re-Mi")

One, each person is important.

Two, be kind in all you do.

Three, we're free to learn together.

Four, and search for what is true.

Five, all people need a voice.

Six, build a fair and peaceful world.

Seven, we care for earth's lifeboat.

And that brings us back to

Me and U-U!

One . . . . . (repeat ad nauseum)

It certainly makes parenting easier, in the sense that I have clear guidelines that I believe in to guide my decisions and to explain and support my answers, instead of "because I said so" or "because that's what we do." Like when we were talking about why we don't mess up a spider's web (Principle 7: Caring for Earth's lifeboat) or why it's not nice to hurt someone (Principle 1: Each person is important) or even why they have to go to school (Principle 3: We're free to learn together). Hopefully, it also gives them some guidelines to consider their own actions when faced with difficult choices (like when I'm not there. Like when they're in public school next year. Gulp). It also brings our faith's teachings into our daily lives, instead of just in church school on Sundays.

(Okay, so the UU Principles don't answer or address any spiritual issues along the lines of "Is there a God?" or "What happens when you die?"--nothing like the Nicene Creed, for instance--but I'm good with that, especially as I believe the cosmic mystery is inherently mysterious, unknown and unknowable. That's a hard parenting stance sometimes so I'm glad the Principles make other parts, mainly the here and now, easier for me.)

In shorthand, I often talk about "health, safety, and respect," the basis for things that don't obviously fall within the Principles, like why we don't run across the street, climb the piano, "give the guinea pig a bath" (to borrow something I heard a friend warn her kids about yesterday!), write on the car (ask Bud why he isn't allowed pens in the car right now!), etc etc etc. Sure, you could make connections to, say, the inherent worth of each person (i.e. take care of your own body!) or taking care of the web of life (for the poor guinea pig), but that's pretty abstract for a preschooler. And where would, say, writing on the car fit in? Is it involved with my dignity? Theirs? Health, safety, and respect are easy and concrete (especially because I have often defined respect as "nice" for them, for now). And now they've heard these words so often that they just give up and give in, mainly because it's something they can understand.

So, I'm realizing why lists like the Ten Commandments or the Noble Eightfold Path or the Wiccan Rede or our Seven Principles are at the basis of many religions: it's not about God, it's about parenting!

No wonder young parents often seem to return to or seek out faith.

(Which brings up one of my favorite UU jokes: What do you call an atheist with children? A Unitarian Universalist!)

The End is Nigh

Our preschool teachers: Spoiler Alert

Sis and Bud have decided that their preschool director, who is retiring this year (though they don't know that), is "the Queen of the School!" That's about right. And so today I took them to the bookstore to select end-of-year gifts for the teachers. The kids chose four books, in sections that I selected (cooking, music, art, and gardening) plus a box of chocolate for the Queen. Which they plan to deliver tomorrow. Before that, we have to finish our scrapbook pages for the gift for the teachers. And it was hard for me not to seize artistic control. Instead, I let Sis cut out the pictures, choose exactly what I wrote, spread glitter glue all over it, and affix unusual animal stickers in random patterns. Is it as pretty as many of the others? No. But it is definitely "her." (Bud hasn't done his yet! I'm sure it will be very, er, individual, too.)

The Right Ingredients

I told the kids yesterday that we would soon be making a meal to take to our friend's house because her mother died. Sis looked thoughtfully for a moment and then decided, "We'll take her our pie right now. And I'll choose the prettiest red leaf from our tree to give her." I was almost sorry that we weren't scheduled to take a meal until next week, but you can bet there'll be pie.

Snake in the Grass

No, really.

We have a snake. It currently lives in our rock wall. We've seen it three different times: once, when I crossed the wall a week ago to go to a neighbors; yesterday, when Sis spotted it as she was traversing said wall; and, finally, today when Sis was again walking along the wall.

She was going to name it "Scary" but has since opted for "Hydra," after the multi-headed snake of Hercules lore.

But that doesn't mean we're all friends. She's cautious but curious, keeping a very respectful distance but still wanting to look for it. Bud is not so sure. I'm very sure: I don't like snakes.

It's a garter snake, which means it's relatively harmless and even good for our garden. Still, we've been talking about what to do when we spot a snake: freeze and stay in place until it slithers away, while calling for an adult, and in no way try to touch it or get closer. Otherwise, we should be careful around rocks and weeds and fallen logs (and Pop, Sis mentioned your canoe!) because that's where snakes live. While ours is a "good" snake, I wouldn't trust me or a preschooler to quickly identify a "bad" snake--even with "Red and black, venom lack; red and yellow, kill a fellow!" (which leaves ours, "black and yellow, scare/kill/help a fellow"???)--better safe than sorry.

Ugh. I like the other "pet" woodland creatures who live in our yard--squirrel family Chippie (the mom), Brown Eyes (the dad, named for the chipmunk in Bearnstain Bears books), children Acorn and Pinecone--much better. But no sense creating a snake phobia in the next generation . . . .

Rise Up: Pie in the Sky

I was in the freezer today and spotted blueberries, the ones we picked last summer. Blueberries + bread pledge = blueberry pie!!!! I made pie crust . . . my own flaky, buttery, tender homemade pie crust!!!! No bitter aftertaste. No gummy bottom crust. I think it was the best pie I've ever made. I'll never buy refrigerator pie crust again.

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Pie Crust

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon sugar

1 cup butter, unsalted and chilled, cut into pieces

1/4 cup ice water

In a food processor, pulse flour with salt and sugar. Add butter. Pulse until mixture resembles coarse meal, with a few pea-size pieces remaining. Add water; pulse until dough is crumbly but holds together when squeezed (if needed, add up to 4 tablespoons more ice water, 1 tablespoon at a time). Do not overmix. turn out onto a work surface; knead once or twice, until dough comes together. Chill dough shaped in discs in plastic wrap, at least 1 hour or up to 3 days.

Everyday Food

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Blueberry Pie

2 pie crusts

2-10 oz bags of frozen blueberries (approximately 4 cups)

1/3 cup flour

3/4 cup sugar

cinnamon, nutmeg

1-2 tablespoons butter, cut into pieces

Preheat oven to 350F. Place crust in pie plate. Place blueberries (still frozen) in bowl with flour and sugar. Mix together and slightly mash. Spoon blueberry mixture into shell. Cover with other crust, piercing to vent. Sprinkle cinnamon, nutmeg, and sugar over crust and dot with butter. Bake at 350 for approximately 1+ hours, until golden brown crust and bubbly, covering rim of pie until last 15 minutes.

Mommy Hungry!

With Sadness

I just received word that the mom of our playgroup friend Miss J passed away this morning. Our thoughts and prayers are with her and her family.

Our Not-So-Secret Garden

Come to my garden,
Nestled in the hills.
There I'll keep you safe beside me.

Come to my garden.
Rest there in my arms.
There I'll see you
Safely grown and on your way.

Stay there in the garden,
Where love grows free and wild.
Come to my garden.
Come, sweet child.

--"Come to My Garden," Secret Garden

We finally put in our little garden plot this weekend, after delaying it because of cold weather, rain, necessary yard work, and other family activities. But yesterday, Mama labored all day to build the raised bed in the newly-cleared back corner, where a huge burning bush was removed (the consequence being a lot less privacy in our backyard, as well as much more space and a cleaner look). The kids alternately played and begged to know when we would plant. Finally, they could help spread out the organic garden soil and then put in the stakes and lastly the plants. We have a yellow crookneck squash, an Italian striped zucchini, 5 poles of beans, 5 poles of snow peas, and two romaine lettuce plants, in an 8 x 4' rectangle. Soon, we'll be adding horseradish and rhubarb from our dear church friend Miss M, who calls those two plants "home plants" because where you plant them is your home. She's given them to her kids and now to us, her "church kids." We can't wait. And I even have some rhubarb recipes. All the herbs that I get from our CSA (which starts the first week of June), usually basil, thyme, parsley, etc, will go in pots. And the flowers are still in our old garden bed around the mailbox in front (with the seeds from Gommie growing in two "window boxes" hanging off our deck). It's probably all more work than we're ready for, but isn't that what gardens are all about--hope, hard work, and a little luck?

Rise Up: Final Stretch

I have five days to go on my bread pledge. Though, I know already that the baking will continue after the 40 days are over. I'm not sure I could eat a grocery store loaf of bread again (now, bakery bread is different!). I won't wrap up here just yet, saving that for the end of the pledge. Particularly because there are a few more loaves I want to make, namely sourdough with the starter I got from my friends at Bloodroot and the Oatmeal Molasses Bread recipe from Rev. M that kinda started all of this, plus pie crust--I want to make a pie crust. But today, I have Sour Cream Bread in my machine (and Maple Baked Beans in my slow cooker), having some backaches from too much fun and not enough rest this weekend.

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Sour Cream Bread

1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon water

1 cup sour cream

3 1/2 cups bread flour

1 tablespoon light brown sugar

2 teaspoons gluten

1 1/4 teaspoons salt

2 1/2 teaspoons bread machine yeast

Place all ingredients in pan according to manufacturer's instructions, with the water and sour cream put in first, and adding the dry ingredients on top. Set crust on medium and program for Basic; press Start (not suitable for delay timer).

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.

Beth Hensperger, The Bread Lover's Bread Machine Cookbook

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Maple Baked Beans

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 medium yellow onion, chopped

3 cups navy beans or Great Northern beans, drained and rinsed

1/2 cup pure maple syrup

1 teaspoon dry mustard

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon black pepper

1/4 cup tomato paste mixed with 1 1/4 cup hot water

Heat oil in skillet over medium heat. Add onion, cover, and cook until softened, after 5 minutes.

Transfer onion to 3 1/2-4 quart slow cooker. Add all ingredients and cook on LOW for 6-8 hours.

Robin Robertson, Fresh from the Vegetarian Slow Cooker

Quandry

A few days ago, I wrote about my kids' new interest in those brightly-colored, fun-shaped Silly Bandz (or Crazy Bands) and my subsequent search for them. Now, some of you, those of you who always think I'm anti-princess and anti-Barbie, might wonder about my interest in and support of both a a). fad and b). plastic toy, about which I do usually rail. And I have now given much thought to giving in to such things, even consulting early childhood experts (i.e. our preschool director!). And so here's what I've come up with:

Let's just say my bark is worse than my bite most of the time. We have princess stuff and Barbie stuff. I'm not against most anything in moderation (even non-organic fruit! :) ). As long as it doesn't obviously conflict with our family values, like, say toy guns (somehow, medieval weapons of destruction like bows and arrows and daggers and swords are okay. Go figure.) or tv-branded food (we don't eat stuff, read "crap," because Clifford or Dora do), I'm okay with it. Especially because the financial outlay in this case is minimal. And because Sis and Bud want the bracelets because they're fun, not because everyone else has them. That's a big difference in my book. So, it's not a hard-and-fast rule about buying trendy things, but I think I can see my way clear for now.

It reminds me of that part of Little Women when Amy wants to buy oranges with the family rag money because it was the thing in school and Meg understands. I understand--I wanted a faux rabbit coat and jeans with patches on the pockets in elementary school, jelly shoes, twist-a-bead necklaces, and other things I've now forgotten (and in this case, wanted those things because everyone else had them). I think I got most of them and in doing so they lost their power. Had I not, I'm sure I would still fret, in some way, about it--it's hard not to fit in.

No sense giving such power to a little band of plastic. So, I'll talk about materialism and peer pressure but buy the bracelets anyway (especially because the kids want to share them with friends and put them in their party favor bags. Sorry, Mama Teacher, I'm sure they do drive teachers crazy. Hence the name, perhaps?). I'll draw my battlelines somewhere else. Like right before any toy guns.

Sis's Little Stalker

Sis's special little friend at school knows where she lives now. His mom had to drop off some school stuff (which by the way was a scrapbook page for school that said one of his favorite things was to draw a city with Sis!) and he was in the car. Apparently, in the four days since they came by, he's asked constantly to drive by her house or, if they do pass our street, asks if he can come to the house to say hi. It's all very funny, but only because she was doing the almost exactly the same thing today at the Greek Festival, which happens to be held at his church.

See, this is the kid that Sis has asked to marry (and the one she cried about not playing with her a month ago, right before they became inseparable), or at least come to her birthday party! We've told her she can't get married until after college, but since she gets college and kindergarten confused, that might not be wise on our part. Though, she has other prospective marriage partners, including: Bud; and, when we said she can't marry family, her church school teacher, Miss M; and, when we said that Miss M is already married . . . . well, she gave up and said she'd live with us.

At least her little friend will know where to find her.

Kung Fu Fighting

The kids took a trial martial arts class today, their very first group lesson of any kind (not counting Chinese, because that included parents at all times). And I think it was stressful for us all, in different ways. In fact, Bud admitted to being nervous even beforehand because he wasn't sure what was going to happen.

This is what transpired: the kids removed shoes and socks and lined up inside the studio in front of the teacher (Lao Tse), who led them through a recitation of the school's motto, stretches, and beginning forms. There were about 10 kids in class, which was then split into the more accomplished kids and the newer kids. Our kids were in the latter group, working with the master on the "fighting style" pose and some punches and kicks (which he counted out in Mandarin--and we understood him!). Sis could follow along almost immediately, but Bud had more trouble following some of the forms. And both often switched their left and right. They also had trouble staying far enough apart and the teacher had to keep moving one off the other. But the teacher was amazingly patient and encouraging with all the kids, even when Bud at one point did a bit of his (unbeknownst to him) Bruce Lee impression.

I was mortified. Which I totally didn't expect. I was embarrassed that Bud was being a bit silly (or not paying perfect attention) but also worried that the teacher would be harsh on him (which he wouldn't understand). Luckily, nothing happened and Bud stopped pretty soon. And then I felt bad that I felt bad (I'm sure I was feeling self-conscious because the kids are half-Chinese and this is martial arts with a Chinese teacher and I feel, irrationally, like they have to prove themselves. Not because of the racist view that Asians are supposed to be good at such things, which is ridiculous. I'm not sure I can explain it. Or understand it myself). Ergh. But after class Bud and I talked about respect, which meant listening to the teacher and not playing around. I'm sure it'll happen again, though.

I was also amazed at how much Sis, whom the teacher called "smart girl," really got into it. She beamed proudly as she punched and kicked at the teacher's pads. She's tiny but tough.

At the end, the class gathered together and watched some of the routines of the older kids who are going to competition next week. They did a few more stretches. And then the teacher reviewed class, giving praise and suggestions, before asking them to bow, first to him, "Xie Xie Lao Tse," then to the assembled parents (who all stood and watched the whole time). Clap, clap, class over.

And so I think we'll go back. Both kids liked it a lot, especially the punching. And the uniforms. Bud especially liked the lion head costumes on the wall, which we'd seen at the Chinese New Year celebration. One day, he'd like to be a lion dancer, which requires lots of martial arts training, apparently. We can call him Bud Lee.

Joys and Concerns

Mostly concerns, for:

• the family and friends of my Uncle J (Pop's sister's husband), who died yesterday;
• Pop, whose skin biopsy came back as melanoma so that he'll need surgery. But they caught it early;
• Miss J's mom (N & N's "meme"), whose cancer has spread, again.

But joy for our little friends going to kindergarten, who all seem to be headed to the schools of their (parents') choices.

Opa!

Same thing, this year:

souvlaki

roasted chicken

dolmades

olives

taramsalata

tzatzkiki

skordalia

spanokopita

tiropita

ravani

galaktoboureko

karidopita

methismena

kataifi

diples

plus:

two little Greek flags

two bags of Gigante beans

a jar of Cretan honey

and a cookbook with recipes for many of the above, because Sis wants to make galaktoboureko!

Good News in the Mail

We got our first choice for school for the kiddos for Kindergarten in the fall!

YAY!!!!

Now we just have to get there . . . .

Rise Up: Bakerwoman God

In honor of our "Celebration of Bread" gathering at church last night, during which I shared my tips for making no-knead bread, with two compound butters on the side, and our minister talked about bread and spirituality, sharing this poem:

Bakerwoman God,
I am your living bread.
Strong, brown, Bakerwoman God,
I am your low, soft and being-shaped loaf.
I am your rising bread, well-kneaded
by some divine and knotty pair of
knuckles, by your warm earth-hands.
I am bread well-kneaded.Put me in your fire, Bakerwoman God,
put me in your own bright fire.I am warm, warm as you from fire.
I am white and gold, soft and hard,
brown and round.
I am so warm from fire.Break me, Bakerwoman God.
I am broken under your caring Word.
Drop me in your special juice in pieces.
Drop me in your blood.
Drunken me in the great red flood.
Self-giving chalice, swallow me.
My skin shines in the divine wine.
My face is cup-covered and I drown.I fall up in a red pool
in a gold world
where your warm sunskin hand is there
to catch and hold me.
Bakerwoman God, remake me.

--Alla Bozarth-Campbell, U.S.A In ‘No Longer Strangers’, WCC Geneva1986

Rise Up: This Day's Daily Bread

I needed a bread that fit some very specific criteria of a friend who would be coming over: no cheese and no white sugar. The first criteria meant that this would be a sweet not a savory loaf, the second that the sweet would need to be honey or maple syrup or something. Along came a recipe for something called Lou's Daily Bread. With orange zest, olive oil, honey, and whole wheat flour, I was intrigued. And the bread is intriguing: not really sweet, despite the orange and the honey, which were perhaps balanced by the oil and the whole wheat (can't wait to try walnut! Could you guess that Lou is Greek? And she uses the whey of homemade yogurt instead of the milk apparently). A gorgeous golden-orange sunset color, this bread had a pretty fine crumb and a soft crust. I liked it, my friend liked it, but the kids didn't. There has been another request for "twin bread." Which I've decided reminds me specifically, in smell anyway, of croissant. Anyway, it might be Lou's daily loaf, but it won't become ours unfortunately.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Lou's Daily Bread

zest of two oranges, cut into very thin strips (I just zested with a grater)

1 1/4 cups fat-free milk

2 tablespoons olive or walnut oil

2 tablespoons honey

1 5/8 cups whole wheat flour

1 1/2 cups bread flour

1 tablespoon gluten

1 1/4 teaspoon salt

2 1/4 teaspoons bread machine yeast

Place all ingredients in the pan according to the order in the manufacturer's instructions. Set crust on medium and program for Whole Wheat cycle; press Start (do not use delay timer).

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.

Beth Hensperger, The Bread Lover's Bread Machine Cookbook

15 in 6

We've had something like 15 doctors' appointments in 6 weeks: GP, pediatrician, ortho, dermatologist, physical therapist, eye doctor, dentist, OB (not including MRI, bloodwork, contact lens "fittings"). That's pretty much one every other weekday. Yesterday, there were three different appointments alone. And that's just for 3 of us (Mama is suspiciously doctor-visit free for herself, though she's been to several of these). For the most part--despite all the appointments or because of them???--we're doing okay--still the back thing (I feel better but not great), also some dry skin patches that needed cream (Sis), an eval of his walk (for Bud, he needs not to kneel), plus all the usual checkups. Whew. I'm ready not to be in a waiting room, not to fill out another form, not to make another run to the pharmacy (there were 3 just yesterday, because one Rx was out of stock and had to be transferred elsewhere). But it's good to keep on top of things. And I like the post-appointment treat.

In the Paper

I'm very behind in my reading and even more in my posting about what's in the papers:

• Dexter and nuts--it'll make a parent's heart stop. But Dexter, of "Cooking with Dexter," is fine.
• Mmmm, check out some of these smoothie ideas--orange and dates, anyone? And my blender is still out from the fresh ice cream earlier this week.
• Mmmmmm, homemade pizza.
• Depressing news about the teacher job market: stay where you are, Mama Teacher!
• One more thing my kids can't do: climb Mt Everest at age 13!
• LOVING Maureen Dowd on Kagan: single vs. unmarried and rumors of lesbianism.
• I've said this for a long time (at least since teaching at a college in NYC): let's have a respectable alternative to 4-year degrees.
• Bangkok: because of my family's close ties to Thailand, I've been following all the reporting on the protests (really, is that a strong enough word?). And while relatives have reported that life in Bangkok is fairly normal outside that zone and that uprisings like this happen (approximately 18 since Ma and Gong were born there--that's like one every three years!), I still worry about the state of things, especially when I read articles like this, by the reporter Thomas Fuller who was interviewing that general when he was assassinated.
• Nuts and Cholesterol: does peanut butter count?
• Mmmmm, spring vegetable soups!!!
• Enemies in Childhood Can Be Good--hmmm, would knowing that have made junior high easier?
• Cell Phones and Brain Tumors--things that make you go, "hmmmm."
• Cooking at the White House: The Pastry Chef (check out the two recipes for granola bars and cheesecake) and Rick Bayless serves a State Dinner
• Non Appetit, Or I liked Gourmet Better, too.
• "Is Your Cat Normal?"--only if eating plastic bags (incl. litter-box liners!), tin-foil yogurt lids, any kind of string or plastic, is!
• How to write condolences: a first-hand account.
• Three totally unrelated accounts, in their way, of modern American Judaism: on liberal Zionism and the death of the widow of Yiddish author Chaim Grade and a celebration of the author, Sholom Aleichem, who gave us Tevye.
• Spelling Children's Names/Naymes/Naimes/Namz
• Fashion's first family meets Buddhism
• Gardening upside-down (we have tomatoes!)
• On the "outlaw of Amherst" (and just try not to sing all her poems to "The Yellow Rose of Texas!")