I’ve been having cooking weekends recently. Part of this is probably because it’s a relaxing activity for me during my stressful part of the year at work. But I will admit that I’m trying a little harder to have more options available in the fridge every morning when I’m packing my lunch and every evening when I get home. (I decided years ago that attempting to actually COOK at night for just myself is never going to work.)
So I have been looking through cookbooks, marking recipes I like and running them by YA. Last night as I was showing her some items I was considering for this coming weekend. She said “how come you almost never make anything you’ve made before?”
Good point and I don’t really have a good answer. Probably just the excitement of seeing something new and thinking “that sounds good”. So last weekend was Pesto Pasta w/ Potatoes & Green Beans, Broccoli & Cheese Galette, Mawa Cake (this is the cake I made for Blevins last time – so obviously I DO repeat recipes occasionally).
Coming up this weekend? Black Bean Sweet Potato Soup, Arugula & Pear Crepes, Pasta w/ Garlic & Breadcrumbs. Maybe some West African Peanut Soup (which I’ve made before but found a new recipe for)?
In this world of super heroes and avengers, it seems as if everyone needs to get on the band wagon. I see in the news that an actor has been named for a re-make of “He-Man”. I didn’t realize there had even been an original movie, although I do remember the original tv cartoon series.
Apparently the first movie was a flop (or as they say in Hollywood “a commercial failure”) which leads me to wonder why anyone feels the need to try again. But then I see that the latest Avengers movie completed Sherman-tanked its way over box office records last weekend, so who am I to say that people don’t want more super hero movies.
I guess in a anxiety-filled world, imagining that there are super beings who can control a little more of their destiny is somehow comforting?
Tell me about the worst film you’ve ever seen. (Or worst book you’ve ever read.)
I read a couple of advice columns every day – makes me feel better about my life choices. A couple of days ago, the advice seeker was complaining about how much work his wife was putting into preparing their kids’ lunches. She has cookie cutters for decorating their sandwiches, debates with the kids about which items goes in which lunch box compartment, includes little notes. The writer thinks this is a complete waste of her time.
I am that woman. When YA was little I usually had wheat bread and light wheat so that I could use cookie cutters to make dual-toned sandwiches. Until she was about 11 we had some seriously over-engineered birthday parties with themed games, food and goodie bags. (Child enjoyed these very much at the time although she says she doesn’t remember them well.) I make little treats for my office mates on various holidays, send mountains of greeting cards; those of you in book club know that I can’t stay away from bringing a potluck item themed to the book we’ve read. Can we say Pi Day?
This is not competition. In fact, when I meet someone who also likes to celebrate like I do, we usually end up comparing notes and collaborating. I met a woman about 4 years ago who can outdo me with one arm tied behind her and she gave me a great tip. Whenever you get a new stamp set or die, you have to make at least 4 cards with it before you’re allowed to put it away. Life changing for me. I sent her a thank you card.
So all of this is to say that today, about the time that today’s blog was being posted to the trail, I was sneaking around my neighborhood in the dark, delivering May Day baskets!
What would you like in your May basket (size is no object today)?
In an email this week, Renee said to me “April is the cruelest month”. I disagree (because, of course February is the cruelest month) but it made me think about assigning human characteristics to the months. Or days (Monday’s child is full of grace….). Or anything non-human.
I tend to appreciate this – I supposed because it’s a version of metaphor and I love metaphor. Here is one of my favorite passages in which the non-living becomes living (from Betty MacDonald’s The Egg and I)”
“Town” was the local Saturday Mecca. A barren old maid of a place, aged and weathered by all the prevailing winds and shunned by prosperity. Years ago the Town with her rich dot of timber and her beautiful harbor was voted Miss Pacific Northwest of 1892 and became betrothed to a large railroad. Her happy founders immediately got busy and whipped up a trousseau of three-and four-story brick buildings, a huge and elaborate red stone courthouse, and sites and plans for enough industries to start her on a brilliant career.
Meanwhile all her inhabitants were industriously tatting themselves up large, befurbelowed Victorian houses in honor of the approaching wedding. Unfortunately almost on the eve of the ceremony the Town in one of her frequent fits of temper lashed her harbor to a froth, tossed a passing freighter up onto her main thorofare and planted seeds of doubt in the mind of her fiancé. Further investigation revealed that, in addition to her treacherous temper, she was raked by winds day and night, year in and year out, and had little available water. In the ensuing panic of 1893, her railroad lover dropped her like a hot potato and within a year or so was paying serious court to several more promising coast towns.
Poor little Town never recovered from the blow. She pulled down her blinds, pulled up her welcome mat and gave herself over to sorrow. Her main street became a dreary thing of empty buildings, pocked by falling bricks and tenanted only by rats and the wind. Her downtown street ends, instead of flourishing waterfront industries, gave birth to exquisite little swamps which changed from chartreuse to crimson to hazy purple with the seasons. Her hills, shorn of their youthful timber in preparation for a thriving residential district, lost their bloom and grew a covering of short crunchy grass which was always dry and always yellow—lemon in spring, golden in summer and fall. She wore her massive courthouse like an enormous brooch on a delicate bosom and the faded and peeling wedding houses grew clumsy and heavy with shrubbery and disappointment.
I also love commercials that depict non-human objects as having personalities. I really liked the Jimmy Dean sun commercials:
Did you ever name your stuffed animals as a child?
On Saturday, as YA and I drove around, it seemed as if every restaurant in SW Minneapolis had chosen that day to assemble their outside tables and chairs and begin their outdoor service. Lots of folks were taking them up on the offer too.
Then on Sunday morning, when I let the dogs out, a fresh rainy burst of air hit me – aah, the smell of Spring. Finally. Made me wish I has sat outside at a restaurant table the day before to sip wine and appreciate the first truly warm day of the season.
Do you have a favorite outdoor restaurant/dining spot?
Yesterday was the anniversary of the opening of the first free public library, the Peterborough Town Library in 1833. The decision to purchase books and open a tax-funded library happened at the Town meeting and for the first sixty years, the books were housed in the general store. In 1893 they were moved to the current location and there have been two expansions since then.
Here are a few fun library quotes:
“Well-run libraries are filled with people because what a good library offers cannot be easily found elsewhere: an indoor public space in which you do not have to buy anything in order to stay.” Zadie Smith
“The only thing that you absolutely have to know, is the location of the library.” Albert Einstein
“Libraries: The medicine chest of the soul.” Library at Thebes, inscription over the door
“My two favorite things in life are libraries and bicycles. They both move people forward without wasting anything. The perfect day: riding a bike to the library.” Peter Golkin
“I have always imaged that Paradise will be a kind of library.” Jorge Luis Borges
I’m a complete library junkie. One of the biggest selling points when I bought my house was that it was a block and a half from the Washburn Library. On the average week I am there twice. I know the hours by heart, am friendly with the librarians. I even have my library card number memorized. Twice I’ve had the opportunity to spend an afternoon in the Central downtown library in the upstairs reading rooms – times when I wanted to read resource material that they don’t allow you to check-out. It was warm and wonderful; so relaxing that I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave at the end of the day.
I found a recipe online that I wanted to try, but it needed two items that I’d never heard of. A quick search made it clear that the only place I would find these items would be in a specialty market. These days you can find so many different kinds of things in regular grocery stores and I don’t visit any specialty markets (think Asian grocery or Mexican grocery) often.
So there I am in the middle of aisle upon aisle of items that I don’t recognize, some of which I can’t even GUESS what they are. Unfortunately I was on my lunch break so didn’t have time to wander and linger. I asked about my two items, was shown where to find them, checked out and went back to work.
But now I think I’ll have to go back next week when I have more time. I hope I don’t spend too much when I do!
Do you have a favorite ethnic/specialty market or restaurant?
My car radio displays the name and artist of whatever is playing.
Like most of us here, I have a wide range of musical tastes. Also I’m a channel surfer whether radio or TV and consequently as I’m flipping through radio stations I see a song called “She Just Started Liking Cheatin’ Son”.
Mind Blown! I don’t know if I should be appalled at the lack of moral character of this woman, or the bad grammar, or the cheatin’ son. And the song started and the man sang “She Just Started Liking Cheatin’ Songs”.
Oh. “Songs”. That’s different. I’m still offended by the lousy grammar. More than her possibly loose character evidently. But at least the son isn’t cheating. Ugh, I cannot do country music unless it’s Johnny Cash.
It’s a song by John Anderson. Evidently, it’s humorous. I wouldn’t know; I didn’t listen to any more of it.
“A synonym is a word you use when you can’t spell the other one.”
Baltasar Gracian
Baltasar Gracian was a Spanish Jesuit, writer and philosopher who lived in the first half of the 1600s. There are many wonderful quotes by him but when I stumbled across this one yesterday, it made me laugh.
I type A LOT for my job – letters, agendas, rosters, briefing notes, website information – in addition to the day by day routine of emails to suppliers, clients and internal teams. Over the years I’ve had trouble typing various words correctly. Some of these problems with words resolve themselves after a few years but a few of them have been with me for as long as I’ve been doing this:
Unfortunately there aren’t good synonyms for some of my words, at least not that are accepted throughout my industry. Hors d’oeuvres is a good example. I can’t use “canapes” because that actually means something specific . “Appetizers” is more work to type and I can’t really go with “morsel”, “tidbit”, “finger food” as these would throw my hotels and supplier for a loop.
That means I have to have work-arounds. For “hors d’oeuvres” I have an auto-fill set up – when I type “hors” and a space, then the computer fills in the rest, spelled correctly every time. Typing in “accom” will get me to “accommodations”. I also have an auto-correct so that any time I type “rools”, the computer changes it to “rolls”. “Deposit” and “Worldwide” I just have to struggle with as they are too similar to other words, so the shortcuts are just as long as slowing down and typing more carefully.
BBC.com is one of the news sites that I look at through the week and yesterday I saw an article about decentralizing the workforce and increasing the ability to work remotely. Clark Valberg, CEO of a software design company says “A decentralized workforce now allows employers to access “passionate talent anywhere in the world irrespective of any geographic boundary.” This is not good news to me.
My company instituted a Work at Home policy three years ago; each associate is allowed to work from home one day a week. I think I am about the only one in the company who does not take advantage of this. I prefer going into the office, I don’t want to be dragging my work laptop home all the time and I didn’t think I would be good at it.
Mother Nature finally forced me to test my theory that I wouldn’t be good at working from home. We had two snow days in February this year and I just had too much on my plate to take the days off. I had warning so I had brought my work laptop home and gotten a lesson from a co-worker on how to get onto the network.
I don’t know if it was a self-fulfilling prophecy but I really hated working at home. I got work done; I was efficient enough but every minute I was thinking of what else I could be doing. I could bake some cornbread, I could work on my solstice project, I could throw in a load of laundry, I could pay bills. I could brush the dogs, do my nails…. aarrgggh. The fact that my life was surrounding me while I tapped away at the computer drove me crazy. I knew if I left my desk, I might never return.
So luckily the weather is turning nicer and I probably don’t have to worry about having to work from home any more this year. And I certainly hope that my workplace doesn’t get decentralized before I’m ready to retire!
What distracts you from what you need to get done?
