Today was, in the old parlance, wash day. In honor of Spring I stripped the bed, even the duvet cover. When I went to the laundry room almost all the machines were used. I found three washers but when it was time to dry, just two dryers. I made do. When I went back I found the same washers and dryers, from nearly two hours before still hadn't been emptied. I started to write notes in my mind. How rude. They should not monopolize the machines, didn't they know or care other people needed them?
As I was dealing with my dry stuff a young woman came in with a three year old and an empty stroller. She started to fold her towels and put them in a cardboard box on the stroller. By talking to the little girl I found out that she had a brother named Michael who hasn't had a birthday yet and was taking a nap. I mentioned to the mother that she had a lot of laundry and she said, yeah, about twelve loads.
It is nice living here in the condo. They were originally built as apartments and they weren't designed for private laundry facilities. If you go before the board, and if you pay for all the plumbing and electrical, you can install apartment sized washer/dryer combos. I was going to do that before I realized I could spend a couple of dollars every few weeks for quite a few years before I would break even on my investment. But then again, I am just one person and I have a pile of underwear to fall back on. I wasn't a young mother having to shlep around the week's wash.
How easy is it to jump to judgement without knowing the circumstances? And how quick are we to shoot off our opinions of what we think and what we should do? Too easy and too quick. Today it was indignation over supposed laundry room thoughtlessness. All around the country, and in Washington, too, following the Boston bombings there was a quick rush to conclusions and condemnation of different groups. Take away civil rights for all Muslims, wire tap the mosques and congregants. Don't allow homosexuals the same rights as heterosexual people. Dig a little deeper, withhold judgement and find that violence can strike in any group. Just look at our own Timothy McVeigh. More gay people have been harmed and tortured by straight people than the other way around. And do not confuse pedophiles with homosexuals. Ask all the young girls abused by an uncle. Some pedophiles are straight, some gay, they all need to stop.
Funny though, where is the outrage over the fertilizer plant explosion in Texas? Where is the outrage about the secret pipeline spill? I walk a fine line and sometimes I can't see where it leads or what is on either side. Where to spend my outrage and energy? Last night I watched a documentary about the Maldives that made me feel so helpless and frustrated. Maybe I can't do anything about that, but I sure as heck can get outraged at thoughtless people in the building! Then I see the face of a tired young mother doing the best she can given her circumstances. I tell myself to have some compassion and not be so quick to judge.
Monday, April 29, 2013
Sunday, April 28, 2013
"Life opens up when you do"
Have you seen the commercial for Crest products? The tag line is "life opens up when you do." On and off throughout my life I have used Crest toothpaste. Aside from cleaning my teeth, I haven't seen it having any other impact on my life. So I do wonder at that particular phrase for these dental products. Toothpaste aside though, the sentiment turns out to be true. I have been opening myself up to life and and life has been opening up to me. This week was so busy I needed to make a chart.
The highlight of the week was seeing Nathaniel and his family three times. Suddenly that little nugget, that sleepy little ball of existence is a person. He cooed at me and smiled and did a lot of vocalizing. He sat on my lap and looked at the sky and the world around him. He stretched and squirmed and kicked his little feet, such tiny perfect feet! The few hours I spent alone with him were fun for me and he seemed to have a good time too.
When his parents came home we had a moment where my daughter said, "That's why I didn't want to tell you. I knew you would judge." Wowza! That pulled me up and made me STOP and back pedal and change my attitude at once. Not that it was any of my business, and it isn't, I just needed to be reminded that these were adults who had the choice to do what they think is best and my opinion is not welcomed or needed. And once I realized that, all cares fell off my shoulders and I could sincerely, with love and respect, wish them happiness.
What a wonderful time of life. learning to mind my own business and opening up to all the possibilities. Just because I don't see things the same way as others doesn't necessarily make me right, it only makes me different. How boring this world would be if the only flowers were roses and orchids. We need daisies and dandelions, snapdragons and baby's breath too. I love those micro photos of tiny organisms, so small and perfect and living a full and healthy life with no opinions from me.
Some years ago I got to hear the Dalai Lama speak at the U of M. He told the story of his good friend, a monk who had been imprisoned by the Chinese for twenty years. When asked what was the hardest part, the monk replied that sometimes he would lose compassion for his jailers. What gives me stress? Judging others according to my standards. There is a person I know who has a very good life, one that many of us would envy. Every tiny setback causes panic and stress. Instead of looking at that person and shaking my head, I've decided not to judge. Who knows what forces shaped their outlook? Who knows what terrors live behind the facade? It is not for me to know or judge. What is for me is to extend a loving thought and wish them well. Sending positive thoughts and energy can do no harm. At Thanksgiving a long time back I had a physical demonstration of how negative energy and messages are debilitating. My sister-in-law and niece and nephews did an exercise that showed me how by thinking bad thoughts they were able to affect my strength and how reversing those thoughts made me stronger.
There are many problems and causes of unhappiness in this life. If I can not fix them, my prayer is not to be the source of any more. Today, April 28, 2013, I send positive energy to friends, family, my community and my world. I am open to life and life is open to me.
The highlight of the week was seeing Nathaniel and his family three times. Suddenly that little nugget, that sleepy little ball of existence is a person. He cooed at me and smiled and did a lot of vocalizing. He sat on my lap and looked at the sky and the world around him. He stretched and squirmed and kicked his little feet, such tiny perfect feet! The few hours I spent alone with him were fun for me and he seemed to have a good time too.
When his parents came home we had a moment where my daughter said, "That's why I didn't want to tell you. I knew you would judge." Wowza! That pulled me up and made me STOP and back pedal and change my attitude at once. Not that it was any of my business, and it isn't, I just needed to be reminded that these were adults who had the choice to do what they think is best and my opinion is not welcomed or needed. And once I realized that, all cares fell off my shoulders and I could sincerely, with love and respect, wish them happiness.
What a wonderful time of life. learning to mind my own business and opening up to all the possibilities. Just because I don't see things the same way as others doesn't necessarily make me right, it only makes me different. How boring this world would be if the only flowers were roses and orchids. We need daisies and dandelions, snapdragons and baby's breath too. I love those micro photos of tiny organisms, so small and perfect and living a full and healthy life with no opinions from me.
Some years ago I got to hear the Dalai Lama speak at the U of M. He told the story of his good friend, a monk who had been imprisoned by the Chinese for twenty years. When asked what was the hardest part, the monk replied that sometimes he would lose compassion for his jailers. What gives me stress? Judging others according to my standards. There is a person I know who has a very good life, one that many of us would envy. Every tiny setback causes panic and stress. Instead of looking at that person and shaking my head, I've decided not to judge. Who knows what forces shaped their outlook? Who knows what terrors live behind the facade? It is not for me to know or judge. What is for me is to extend a loving thought and wish them well. Sending positive thoughts and energy can do no harm. At Thanksgiving a long time back I had a physical demonstration of how negative energy and messages are debilitating. My sister-in-law and niece and nephews did an exercise that showed me how by thinking bad thoughts they were able to affect my strength and how reversing those thoughts made me stronger.
There are many problems and causes of unhappiness in this life. If I can not fix them, my prayer is not to be the source of any more. Today, April 28, 2013, I send positive energy to friends, family, my community and my world. I am open to life and life is open to me.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
The Slippery Slope
There hasn't been ice cream in my home since October. Very very little junk food at all. I have been controlling portion size and basically eating very well. I have been telling myself I can eat anything, just control how much. Seems like sense.
Yesterday I bought a pint of Belgian Chocolate gelato on sale. Oh yeah, I sure used some portion control! A small portion here and there and then again and it is gone! Not only is it gone but today I had to be at the Mall of America and I bought a small cup that wasn't on sale. Came home and ate the Riesen I keep on hand to fool people when I add it to the ceramic candy bowl.
What else isn't tied down and is full of fat sugar, chocolate or salt? Ah it is a slippery slope and I see I can not bring ice cream home. A small portion ordered in a restaurant can be enjoyed on occasion. But if I want something cold at home, it has to be less than luscious frozen yogurt.
I refuse to look at the down side, only the up. No more statin, no more blood pressure meds, no more insulin at meals, and only a small amount at night. Good blood glucose levels throughout the day. These are all positives. And if that means sacrificing ice cream, so be it. I refuse to be the kind of person who has a wonderful life but focusses on all the tiny negatives. I am blessed with the chance to be healthy as I age and that is a precious opportunity many people never get.
And I can have ice cream... just not at home... and not for another little while.
Yesterday I bought a pint of Belgian Chocolate gelato on sale. Oh yeah, I sure used some portion control! A small portion here and there and then again and it is gone! Not only is it gone but today I had to be at the Mall of America and I bought a small cup that wasn't on sale. Came home and ate the Riesen I keep on hand to fool people when I add it to the ceramic candy bowl.
What else isn't tied down and is full of fat sugar, chocolate or salt? Ah it is a slippery slope and I see I can not bring ice cream home. A small portion ordered in a restaurant can be enjoyed on occasion. But if I want something cold at home, it has to be less than luscious frozen yogurt.
I refuse to look at the down side, only the up. No more statin, no more blood pressure meds, no more insulin at meals, and only a small amount at night. Good blood glucose levels throughout the day. These are all positives. And if that means sacrificing ice cream, so be it. I refuse to be the kind of person who has a wonderful life but focusses on all the tiny negatives. I am blessed with the chance to be healthy as I age and that is a precious opportunity many people never get.
And I can have ice cream... just not at home... and not for another little while.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
April showers, or dancing in the rain
Everyone knows we are having a challenging April. Snow this morning and rain right now. May flowers!!! Several choices, stay in bed, eat fattening food, or go dancing. Just call me twinkle toes. I attended the second of four East Coast Swing classes this afternoon. They are sponsored by the North American Ballroom Association and we are getting them free through Meet-up. Sweet.
For over thirty years I basically danced with one person and we had a lot of fun. We didn't always know what we were doing, but we did it together with lots of laughing. Sometimes I'd be laughing so hard my side would hurt. Today I must have danced with at least forty partners. We would practice a sequence with a couple of turns and then go to the next partner. I admit to getting a tad dizzy. It was fun though frightening at times. We are all at different levels and have different degrees of rhythm. The men didn't twirl, just the women. I'm reminded of something Ginger Rogers is supposed to have said. She said she did all the same steps as Fred Astaire, only backwards and in heels.
It is strange to dance with such a variety of partners; tall, short, younger, older, confident and not. Some corrected me and I tried not to get offended. I advised one guy to put a little tension in his elbows. It was like dancing with rubber arms.
I've wasted a lot of time wishing for a partner to dance with. Today I found many. There are two more Swing Lessons here at this studio and next month I am going to go out on a limb and sign up to learn the Tango. It is outside of my comfort zone, but so what? Let's dance.
For over thirty years I basically danced with one person and we had a lot of fun. We didn't always know what we were doing, but we did it together with lots of laughing. Sometimes I'd be laughing so hard my side would hurt. Today I must have danced with at least forty partners. We would practice a sequence with a couple of turns and then go to the next partner. I admit to getting a tad dizzy. It was fun though frightening at times. We are all at different levels and have different degrees of rhythm. The men didn't twirl, just the women. I'm reminded of something Ginger Rogers is supposed to have said. She said she did all the same steps as Fred Astaire, only backwards and in heels.
It is strange to dance with such a variety of partners; tall, short, younger, older, confident and not. Some corrected me and I tried not to get offended. I advised one guy to put a little tension in his elbows. It was like dancing with rubber arms.
I've wasted a lot of time wishing for a partner to dance with. Today I found many. There are two more Swing Lessons here at this studio and next month I am going to go out on a limb and sign up to learn the Tango. It is outside of my comfort zone, but so what? Let's dance.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
The Barefoot Contessa and me
Since getting cable TV and The Food Channel, (but not the Cooking Channel) I have been learning a lot of new things and shaking my head at others. Yes, where I used to lightly sauté my veggies for soup, now, thanks to Guy Fieti I sweat them down. And if ever I were to appear on Chopped, I know to add lemon for acid and nuts for crunch and when all else fails, make ice cream or hash.
I happened to catch the last part of The Barefoot Contessa. She was preparing a little outdoor meal/picnic for some of her friends. I was glad to find out how to make tabouli salad but was a little put off by some other things. The first time she said she was going to stuff the tabouli in pita bread with shards of feta cheese I thought, hmm, that is an interesting way to describe a cut of cheese. The third time I sneered. Now, feta cheese is a soft cheese and does not go into shards easily. I could easily see a shard of Parmesan, but feta? No, just being pretentious. Then she started to pack the simple lunch for the picnic in her own backyard.
Each person had a beautiful orange gift bag with a fancy paper napkin and plastic fork. Then she packed the shrimp in small chinese take out boxes. The tabouli pita pockets (with shards of feta cheese) were each beautifully wrapped, not in plastic wrap, but in parchment paper. Dessert was crystalized ginger cookies wrapped in cellophane bags with orange ribbon tied in a bow. Guess what they had to drink? Splits of Veuve Clicqot for each person, served with a straw!
I've just been doing a little pricing in my head and online:
Champagne- $23-25 each ($138-150)
Gift Bags - $3 each ($18)
Chinese take out boxes $8-15 for 100.
Fancy napkins $3-5
Food - $50
Taking the lower prices I figure it cost about $217.00 for this simple backyard meal. Wowza! I could have done it as nice but for far less and not created so much waste. I could see splurging like that for a special concert in the park or maybe going to Ravenna or Tanglewood.
2 larger Bottles Veuve Clicquot $40. each, $80. I would prefer Moscato D'asti at about $20. for the good stuff, and as low as $13 for a lesser brand but still good. (I like sweet bubbly wine)
Food - $50.
Served on pretty platters with real plates, nice napkins and nice glasses, the whole thing would have cost between $76 - 120. I would have had to wash some dishes, worth saving $100 or more, and my guests would have had just as good a time.
Maybe at one time Ina Gartner was a cook on a budget and made everything so elegant they called her The Barefoot Contessa. Or maybe she was a rich girl who was a hippie. I don't know. Maybe it is being unemployed and living on a tight budget, but this show was pure fantasy land. The divide between the rich and the poor has never been bigger or more noticeable. The next show was Ten Dollar Dinners. I can do it for nine!
I happened to catch the last part of The Barefoot Contessa. She was preparing a little outdoor meal/picnic for some of her friends. I was glad to find out how to make tabouli salad but was a little put off by some other things. The first time she said she was going to stuff the tabouli in pita bread with shards of feta cheese I thought, hmm, that is an interesting way to describe a cut of cheese. The third time I sneered. Now, feta cheese is a soft cheese and does not go into shards easily. I could easily see a shard of Parmesan, but feta? No, just being pretentious. Then she started to pack the simple lunch for the picnic in her own backyard.
Each person had a beautiful orange gift bag with a fancy paper napkin and plastic fork. Then she packed the shrimp in small chinese take out boxes. The tabouli pita pockets (with shards of feta cheese) were each beautifully wrapped, not in plastic wrap, but in parchment paper. Dessert was crystalized ginger cookies wrapped in cellophane bags with orange ribbon tied in a bow. Guess what they had to drink? Splits of Veuve Clicqot for each person, served with a straw!
I've just been doing a little pricing in my head and online:
Champagne- $23-25 each ($138-150)
Gift Bags - $3 each ($18)
Chinese take out boxes $8-15 for 100.
Fancy napkins $3-5
Food - $50
Taking the lower prices I figure it cost about $217.00 for this simple backyard meal. Wowza! I could have done it as nice but for far less and not created so much waste. I could see splurging like that for a special concert in the park or maybe going to Ravenna or Tanglewood.
2 larger Bottles Veuve Clicquot $40. each, $80. I would prefer Moscato D'asti at about $20. for the good stuff, and as low as $13 for a lesser brand but still good. (I like sweet bubbly wine)
Food - $50.
Served on pretty platters with real plates, nice napkins and nice glasses, the whole thing would have cost between $76 - 120. I would have had to wash some dishes, worth saving $100 or more, and my guests would have had just as good a time.
Maybe at one time Ina Gartner was a cook on a budget and made everything so elegant they called her The Barefoot Contessa. Or maybe she was a rich girl who was a hippie. I don't know. Maybe it is being unemployed and living on a tight budget, but this show was pure fantasy land. The divide between the rich and the poor has never been bigger or more noticeable. The next show was Ten Dollar Dinners. I can do it for nine!
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Fun and frustration
Sometimes I get so ticked at some of the behavior I see in Minnesota. That is the frustration, or at least one of them. Let's talk about fun instead.
I have been having fun going to Meet-ups around town. Yesterday morning was the Midtown Writers Group where we write for anywhere from one to ten minutes to different prompts. No editing, mostly just what pops into our heads. So much fun to hear what others write too. No criticism, just sharing if someone wants to share. Monday nights I attend Laughter Club where we laugh to silly exercises and feel good for 45 minutes. And today I went to the first class of East Coast Swing. Not too much different from the Lindy we used to do back in Brooklyn. Ninety five of us signed up with about twenty more women than men. No surprise there.
The instructor was a lovely young man from Costa Rica with a rather thick accent. He was very good at showing us what to do and emphasized having fun is more important to than being perfect. He said that women always start on the right foot. I didn't know that. He said it is because women are always right! (Not Michelle Bachman or Phyllis Shlaffley.) And men start on their left, not because they are wrong, but for balance.
The room was huge but everyone hung back. Two women named Cathy and I stood a little forward. We invited others to stand with us but they are Minnesotans and don't want to stand out. Of course the teacher made them all come forward and we stood facing each other, two rows of women and two rows of men with the teacher showing steps in the middle. A short women behind me said she couldn't understand or see him. I told her to go closer in the front row. Oh no, she had to stand there in the back and complain instead. That frustrates me.
Last summer I spent some time on the Jersey Shore with my dear friend Monica. We went shopping in Cape May and I bought a blue print dress with short sleeves and a vee neck. Today I put it on and although it was a little large, I thought it looked pretty when worn with blue beads and earrings. It wasn't until I was looking at myself in the dance hall mirrors that I noticed how poorly it fit. It hung down at least three inches longer in the back. Oy vey is meir. In pantyhose and that dress, I looked like I was trying much too hard. It is frustrating to spend time on my appearance and realize how far I missed the mark.
Friends share inspirational messages on Facebook. They are all about loving oneself and accepting our imperfections and living life as well as possible. I am not sure if I will ever wear this dress again; will I have it tailored to fit or give it away? It doesn't bear much thought or energy. It is nice when problems are so infinitely small. This really is the small stuff.
(By the way, the scale was at 150 today and I am looking forward to breaking that barrier soon. Dancing has got to help!)
I have been having fun going to Meet-ups around town. Yesterday morning was the Midtown Writers Group where we write for anywhere from one to ten minutes to different prompts. No editing, mostly just what pops into our heads. So much fun to hear what others write too. No criticism, just sharing if someone wants to share. Monday nights I attend Laughter Club where we laugh to silly exercises and feel good for 45 minutes. And today I went to the first class of East Coast Swing. Not too much different from the Lindy we used to do back in Brooklyn. Ninety five of us signed up with about twenty more women than men. No surprise there.
The instructor was a lovely young man from Costa Rica with a rather thick accent. He was very good at showing us what to do and emphasized having fun is more important to than being perfect. He said that women always start on the right foot. I didn't know that. He said it is because women are always right! (Not Michelle Bachman or Phyllis Shlaffley.) And men start on their left, not because they are wrong, but for balance.
The room was huge but everyone hung back. Two women named Cathy and I stood a little forward. We invited others to stand with us but they are Minnesotans and don't want to stand out. Of course the teacher made them all come forward and we stood facing each other, two rows of women and two rows of men with the teacher showing steps in the middle. A short women behind me said she couldn't understand or see him. I told her to go closer in the front row. Oh no, she had to stand there in the back and complain instead. That frustrates me.
Last summer I spent some time on the Jersey Shore with my dear friend Monica. We went shopping in Cape May and I bought a blue print dress with short sleeves and a vee neck. Today I put it on and although it was a little large, I thought it looked pretty when worn with blue beads and earrings. It wasn't until I was looking at myself in the dance hall mirrors that I noticed how poorly it fit. It hung down at least three inches longer in the back. Oy vey is meir. In pantyhose and that dress, I looked like I was trying much too hard. It is frustrating to spend time on my appearance and realize how far I missed the mark.
Friends share inspirational messages on Facebook. They are all about loving oneself and accepting our imperfections and living life as well as possible. I am not sure if I will ever wear this dress again; will I have it tailored to fit or give it away? It doesn't bear much thought or energy. It is nice when problems are so infinitely small. This really is the small stuff.
(By the way, the scale was at 150 today and I am looking forward to breaking that barrier soon. Dancing has got to help!)
Friday, April 5, 2013
A day of happy tears and release from worry
I have written before about the concern some of my neighbors and I have for another neighbor, Gerrie. She has lost her short term memory and wouldn't accept help and we couldn't get her help. It was a circular argument. She needed to be on medical assistance to qualify for home help, but since we had no idea of how much money she had we couldn't get her on medical assistance and she wouldn't let us into her place and we couldn't get her help because... and on and on. She had a niece but no one knew where. There was one other number and another neighbor, Mary, tried it. It was a cousin and now the wheels started to turn.
The cousin had a number for the niece, the niece called her sister and they all were worried and yesterday we had a wonderful get together. Three neighbors, two nieces and one cousin came together to discuss Gerrie's condition and what could be done to help her. We confessed that because we were not family, our hands were tied. They all said they were Nordgrens and they were stubborn and they would take charge and get things straightened out. None of us knew it, but one niece had taken her to the doctor a year before and tried to keep in touch. She had informed the office that she wanted them to inform her if there were any problems. It had gotten to the point that Gerrie hadn't paid any of her bills in months and Connie was going to see to it she got on auto pay. They will have her evaluated and submit the paperwork for medical assistance. They will get her signed up for home help or Meals on Wheels, whatever is needed.
Then it was time to go get Gerrie. I pounded and pounded on her door and she finally opened it and I told her it was time to come eat birthday cake. Oh she couldn't, she was a mess. I said it was only Mary, Betty and me and she had to come. Then she walked in and found a party! Her nieces kissed her and hugged her and she cried and cried. She wouldn't let go of one niece's face she loved her so. And they told her how they were so happy to see her. She didn't recognize one. She said her niece lived in St Paul and was too busy with her family. We said, Gerrie, look over there, that is your niece Connie. She is here. So many happy tears.
Gerrie's brother was a real piece of work and after their mother died the girls were adopted out. There were other sisters from a first marriage and as Connie put it, they have issues. Gerrie's parents wanted the girls but for some reason couldn't keep them. So it had been years since Connie and Cheryl and their cousin Linda had been together. But they were joined in their concern to see their relative was OK. They are going to clean her house and get her papers in order. They are going to oversee her welfare. They are going to get power of attorney to make sure things are dealt with.
I call this a release from worry for Betty, in particular and all of us in the building who have worried about her. And it is a release for Gerrie too. I hope she can let them help her and enjoy these days left to her knowing she has family to rely on and is not so very alone. There is work to be done and I am more than happy to help by visiting and listening. Passing this worry on to people who can accomplish something is a wonderful outcome. Blessings on them.
The cousin had a number for the niece, the niece called her sister and they all were worried and yesterday we had a wonderful get together. Three neighbors, two nieces and one cousin came together to discuss Gerrie's condition and what could be done to help her. We confessed that because we were not family, our hands were tied. They all said they were Nordgrens and they were stubborn and they would take charge and get things straightened out. None of us knew it, but one niece had taken her to the doctor a year before and tried to keep in touch. She had informed the office that she wanted them to inform her if there were any problems. It had gotten to the point that Gerrie hadn't paid any of her bills in months and Connie was going to see to it she got on auto pay. They will have her evaluated and submit the paperwork for medical assistance. They will get her signed up for home help or Meals on Wheels, whatever is needed.
Then it was time to go get Gerrie. I pounded and pounded on her door and she finally opened it and I told her it was time to come eat birthday cake. Oh she couldn't, she was a mess. I said it was only Mary, Betty and me and she had to come. Then she walked in and found a party! Her nieces kissed her and hugged her and she cried and cried. She wouldn't let go of one niece's face she loved her so. And they told her how they were so happy to see her. She didn't recognize one. She said her niece lived in St Paul and was too busy with her family. We said, Gerrie, look over there, that is your niece Connie. She is here. So many happy tears.
Gerrie's brother was a real piece of work and after their mother died the girls were adopted out. There were other sisters from a first marriage and as Connie put it, they have issues. Gerrie's parents wanted the girls but for some reason couldn't keep them. So it had been years since Connie and Cheryl and their cousin Linda had been together. But they were joined in their concern to see their relative was OK. They are going to clean her house and get her papers in order. They are going to oversee her welfare. They are going to get power of attorney to make sure things are dealt with.
I call this a release from worry for Betty, in particular and all of us in the building who have worried about her. And it is a release for Gerrie too. I hope she can let them help her and enjoy these days left to her knowing she has family to rely on and is not so very alone. There is work to be done and I am more than happy to help by visiting and listening. Passing this worry on to people who can accomplish something is a wonderful outcome. Blessings on them.
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Reflections on holiday traditions and the food we eat
This year I attended both a Passover Seder and an Easter dinner. The Seder was exquisitely cooked and the Easter dinner was pretty awful, as far as the food. Company was lovely at both events and I am grateful to my hosts for inviting me. One dinner was more delicious than the other, but the food was just as appreciated and liked at both. I told my daughter that there are some really bad cooks around and I started thinking about our cultural differences. She said it wasn't just culture, it is a particular family's particular culture.
My Jewish friend owns a catering company. Some of the foods were familiar to me from my childhood, but done so much better. My Christian friend's dinner was a committee affair. I made some little salmon cakes and sour cream dill sauce because I've never cared much for ham. There was a ham, and pork chops so tough I could have tied them on with string and used them for sandals. Store rolls, (no Clara buns for this family!) and one of the aunties made her famous, secret recipe banana cream pie. Save room for pie I was warned.
I was sitting with two teenaged girls when pie was served. They were hoping that their aunt would give them the recipe if they ever got married. I took one bite and told them I knew the recipe. Roll out refrigerated sugar cookie dough, line pie pan and bake. Make instant vanilla pudding and slice bananas into it. Spoon over crust, top with Cool Whip, let set in the fridge and serve. I mentioned that it might be more delicious with real whipped cream, and one of the girls suggested an Oreo cookie crust. And that is how recipes grow and change and hopefully get better.
Yet, should the young lady make the tastier pie and serve it at Easter dinner, inevitably it will pale in comparison to the one her auntie made. Not because auntie's pie was better, but because it is enshrined in memory of time and place, of family and love. Those tastes are inviolate and we never want them to change.
Every Thanksgiving the magazines are full of new ways to cook turkey or potatoes or pumpkin pie. And every year we want the same. The cook might want a change but the guests usually look forward to what they are used to, be it sweet potato pie or green beans with almonds. I am sure my family could not imagine Thanksgiving without Clara's famous buns. I remember one year that my late father-in-law made a small turkey roast and a huge standing rib roast for Christmas dinner. Oh the disappointment of the grandchildren as he parsed out the turkey. They didn't want expensive beef, they wanted turkey on Christmas! It was ingrained in their little minds and they were not open to change.
My father always searched for the Halvah of his youth and my mother fondly remembered crullers from her neighborhood bakery when she was a little girl. Neither ever had any that were as good. I remember being a young wife coming home from a wonderful party with my husband. We stopped at a Baskin Robbins store and had coconut ice cream cones. They were indescribably good. A week or so later we went back and did it again. But it wasn't the same. We weren't the same. It was just coconut ice cream and nothing special.
When we feed each other, hopefully the taste and nutrition is of the highest quality. That is a plus, but most importantly love and caring and good wishes should go into the food. That way, even if the pork chops are tough as old leather, all our families taste is the love; good company, good food and sweet memories.
My Jewish friend owns a catering company. Some of the foods were familiar to me from my childhood, but done so much better. My Christian friend's dinner was a committee affair. I made some little salmon cakes and sour cream dill sauce because I've never cared much for ham. There was a ham, and pork chops so tough I could have tied them on with string and used them for sandals. Store rolls, (no Clara buns for this family!) and one of the aunties made her famous, secret recipe banana cream pie. Save room for pie I was warned.
I was sitting with two teenaged girls when pie was served. They were hoping that their aunt would give them the recipe if they ever got married. I took one bite and told them I knew the recipe. Roll out refrigerated sugar cookie dough, line pie pan and bake. Make instant vanilla pudding and slice bananas into it. Spoon over crust, top with Cool Whip, let set in the fridge and serve. I mentioned that it might be more delicious with real whipped cream, and one of the girls suggested an Oreo cookie crust. And that is how recipes grow and change and hopefully get better.
Yet, should the young lady make the tastier pie and serve it at Easter dinner, inevitably it will pale in comparison to the one her auntie made. Not because auntie's pie was better, but because it is enshrined in memory of time and place, of family and love. Those tastes are inviolate and we never want them to change.
Every Thanksgiving the magazines are full of new ways to cook turkey or potatoes or pumpkin pie. And every year we want the same. The cook might want a change but the guests usually look forward to what they are used to, be it sweet potato pie or green beans with almonds. I am sure my family could not imagine Thanksgiving without Clara's famous buns. I remember one year that my late father-in-law made a small turkey roast and a huge standing rib roast for Christmas dinner. Oh the disappointment of the grandchildren as he parsed out the turkey. They didn't want expensive beef, they wanted turkey on Christmas! It was ingrained in their little minds and they were not open to change.
My father always searched for the Halvah of his youth and my mother fondly remembered crullers from her neighborhood bakery when she was a little girl. Neither ever had any that were as good. I remember being a young wife coming home from a wonderful party with my husband. We stopped at a Baskin Robbins store and had coconut ice cream cones. They were indescribably good. A week or so later we went back and did it again. But it wasn't the same. We weren't the same. It was just coconut ice cream and nothing special.
When we feed each other, hopefully the taste and nutrition is of the highest quality. That is a plus, but most importantly love and caring and good wishes should go into the food. That way, even if the pork chops are tough as old leather, all our families taste is the love; good company, good food and sweet memories.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
