Start your New Year off with a Jazz Fight!

I would totally win.

Happy New Year!

---

Pretty pizza->

piece 2, originally uploaded by arahsae.

Okay, we had another shot at a pizza-pie and enjoyed more success! New dough recipe that used all bread flour, meaning more gluten and stretchyness. It crisped up perfectly. I may switch in some whole wheat flour next time too see how that changes the flavor.

Here:

Look at that rectangular shape! Ooooh!

---

2008 Required Reading List: READ

And with the turning of the final page in this book, Letty Fox, I complete my reading list for 2008!

Don't worry; I won't let the success go to my head.

In case you forgot, (how could you!) for 2008 I settled on "classic" books by women, all authors I'd never read before.

+ The Art of Eating by M. F. K. Fisher
+ Frost in May by Antonia White
+ Lady Audley's Secret by Mary Elizabeth Braddon
+ Letty Fox: Her Luck by Christina Stead
+ Middlemarch by George Eliot
+ On Photography by Susan Sontag
+ The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon by Sei Shonagon
+ The Talented Mr. Ripley by Patricia Highsmith
+ The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Brontë
+ Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell

The last one, Letty Fox, was the most difficult. Stead is very wordy, and I had to resign myself to 602 pages of wordiness and that it would pay off in the end (it did). Only the Angela Carter blurb on the back cover kept me going through those dark moments.

The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon was most fascinating. Here's a text put together 1000 years ago by a court lady, and she complains about the same things we do today. (The book contains her observations, anecdotes, and commentary, but my favorite parts were the lists.)

Among her list of Hateful Things:
"I cannot stand people who leave without closing the panel [door] behind them."

"Some children have called at one's house. One makes a great fuss of them and gives them toys to play with. The children become accustomed to this treatment and start to come regularly, forcing their way into one's inner rooms and scattering one's furnishings and possessions! Hateful!"

Embarrassing Things:
"To have spoken about someone not knowing that he could overhear. This is embarrassing even if it be a servant or some other completely insignificant person."

Things That Should Be Large:
"Priests. Fruit. Houses. Provision bags. Inksticks for inkstones.
"Men's eyes: when they are too narrow, they look feminine. On the other hand, if they were as large as metal bowls, I should find them rather frightening."

Awkward Things:
"One has gone to a house and asked to see someone; but the wrong person appears, thinking that it is he who is wanted; this is especially awkward if one has brought a present."

Annoying Things:
"One has sewn something in a hurry. The task seems finished, but on pulling out the needle on discovers that one forgot to knot the end of the thread. It is also very annoying to find that one has sewn something back to front."

I know people are people, but I have a very foggy view of human existence in tenth-century Japan (or tenth-century anywhere). It's comforting to know that, however removed in time and culture, people are the same.

Lady Audley's Secret would be on my list of Entertaining Things, On Photography makes my Things That Are Complex list, and The Art of Eating on Things That Make Me Hungry. After this introduction, I want to read more Antonia White and more Gaskell.

Have you read any of these books? What did you think?

I don't know if I am will keep up a 2009 list--I played with the idea of reading all my shelf-sitting Dumas (I've read The Three Musketeers maybe five times but not the follow-ups) and even made a list, but am not sure how much I'll stick to it. I've kinda sorta switched my reading from AllConsuming to Goodreads, and will see how that pans out. I feel like I have too many websites to maintain.

Next month I'll write up my observations for all the other books I read in 2008.

(***Many of the books on my list this year were bricks, which is why I chose ten titles instead of twelve. I added up the pages--it came to 4590!)

---

better than sliced bread

sliced, originally uploaded by arahsae.

First pizza attempt made last night, upon the baking stone Bruce gave me for Christmas.

While out shopping for mozzarella and romano and other toppings yesterday, we looked at baking peels. We didn't buy one; I'd read about using parchment paper for easy transfer.

We came home, I made the dough (Joy of Cooking recipe) and, while it rose, I made sauce (again, Joy of Cooking). After frying up the sausage and slicing mushrooms, I got the oven going.

Several sources explained that the best crust is achieved with the hottest oven. I cranked the oven to 550 (it actually got to 575) and then read the box and discovered my parchment paper is only safe to 400. I have no idea what happens to the silicone past the "safe" temp, but I do admit to having a fear of chemicals, so I decided to try without.

No fear, I thought, we'll use the small cutting board and just slide it off! A combination of not enough flour and too little Cream of Wheat (I didn't have cornmeal) led to "problems" getting the pizza off the board and onto the 575 baking stone.

So we got a pizza that looked like this:



Fortunately, this did not harm the flavor! I'd topped this one with pineapple and prosciutto. Bruce's pizza was next. He kept his small and so it had a thicker crust.


I'm going to try the dough recipe that requires an overnight rest next, out of The Bread Baker's Apprentice, another gift from Bruce. (See where his priorities are?)

Holidays sneak up on you

Holidays sneak up on you, originally uploaded by arahsae.

Paulette sends best wishes, all!

Stay warm--

query

Hey--any of you Simmons peeps have Meredith's email? I sent her something a while ago and it bounced back, which makes me think maybe she and Rob found a house and moved, meaning the physical address I have is incorrect!

Stay warm.

cat magnet

I'm pretending I'm Canadian this week. For all outdoor purposes, Omaha is now a city in, let's say, Ontario.

Keaton gave up any efforts at keeping himself warm and has again resorted to following me around, waiting for me to sit down and then sitting on me. I push him off when I have to get up or my legs fall asleep, and then the dance begins again. I walk, he pursues, I halt, he cries out, I settle, he sits.

Ice is sneaking into the house, under imperfectly sealed doors and along windows. And it is time for another pot of tea. [Cue careful removal of cat.]

---

future kitchen

A few things that will be sashaying into my kitchen in 2009, during my Adventures in Baking:

- cobblers
- buckles
- slumps
- grunts
- pandowdies
- brown betties

I've made brown betties and buckles before, but getting into those other American Fruit & Dumpling creations will be fun fun fun.

My 2008 cookery booklet is coming right along--I am over half done and hope to spend some quality time at Kinko's this weekend. They SHOULD arrive before Christmas!

---

chew toy

Some of you know about my intimate relationship with sweet potatoes. It is a passionate, flaming thing that cannot be denied. I welcomed sweet pots (as they are abbreviated on my grocery lists) back into my life after years of avoidance, borne of eating mushy canned yams topped with marshmallows at Thanksgiving and Christmas. My dad adored those yams. Sadly, they were the beginning of an awful relationship for me and sweet pots.***

Until now.

Not really--I've been a happy passenger on the sweet potato train for a year or so now. And that love only GROWS! The sweet potato has joined the ranks of my Favorites, a prestigious list, indeed.

Last night I made some roasted sweet potato fries (and I made them again tonight). They were awesome. (Recipe here.) I scrubbed two sweet potatoes clean but only used one. I left the unused one on the counter to dry out.

This morning, I went downstairs and noticed something sitting on a step in the middle of the stairwell.

It was a sweet potato. It was full of bite marks and gashes and scrapes. It had been through serious combat.

How did this happen? There aren't many options here.

As I see it, A BAD BAD NAUGHTY cat must have gotten on the kitchen counter (BAD!), seen the sweet potato and thought, "What fun! A rolly toy!" My money is on Paulette, because she is dumb like that. Keaton is more into knocking pencils and small things off the desk and tables--and he has no interest whatsoever in any people food, cooked or otherwise. How Paulette got it all the way over to the stairs and halfway down them must have been interesting. That poor sweet pot made it through the kitchen, dining room and living room (and you know cats don't move things in straight lines) before taking its tragic fall.

Anyway, I was mad because it was all gross and I had to toss it. I am concerned that I can't leave my tubers out on the counter anymore.

***
(I'm not going to get into the yams vs. sweet potato thing here and now.)

---

not much

I am cold. It is supposed to snow a lot Monday and Tuesday. I subbed one day last week and it sucked. Blah.

blast

I gave in.

I signed up for Facebook.

Friend me, friend me! I'm under my gmail account.

PS: Thanksgiving was tasty!

---

bird bath

I picked up my 14.99 lb pasture-raised-in-Nebraska turkey yesterday.

And it is rock hard.

I thought they were going to pop it in the fridge a day or two ago to get the thawing process started (I am supposed to salt it today) but maybe that was only for the other woman's turkey.

Never fear! I saw an Alton Brown Good Eats method a week or so ago and the wonders of YouTube refreshed my memory. Ms. Turkey is going into a bucket of cold water (changed every three hours) and should be pliable and ready for salting by this evening.

Look at me! Look how NOT BOTHERED I am by this!

I am totally lying. Wish me luck!

ETA: I didn't have a large enough bucket so I had to duct tape the holes in my largest planter.

---

tuesday, 24 Nov.

I should not have blogged about that coat, because that makes it so easy to look at. And savor. I even checked the measurements against one of my coats, and the length on that one is perfect.

And I keep looking and thinking . . . I had that page open in my browser all day long.

Tomorrow I am a third grade teacher, and I fear the day will be a little dicey. The schools here get three days off for Thanksgiving, and tomorrow is the last day of education before the long weekend. On the good side, the teacher has known of this absence for a while and should (SHOULD) have detailed lesson plans. Not so good: over-excited kids and maybe even a classroom party where they are dressed as pilgrims or something. I try to avoid opportunities for chaos. I especially try to avoid large groups of nine- and ten-year-olds in construction paper Native American and/or Turkey garb.

Tomorrow I also pick up the turkey. (I found out today it will be less than sixteen pounds, meaning Bruce and I each get maybe seven pounds of meat each. Just kidding. I will probably slice off a big chunk and wrap it tightly and freeze it to be enjoyed later.)

After Thanksgiving I gotta make me some Altoid Brownies. Oh goodness me.

---

PS: Bruce was somewhat disgruntled that I did not mention that HE did the installation of the range hood (with help from me). I am put out that no one has commented on the ELECTROCUTION I underwent because someone didn't turn off all the circuits. That is all.

---

yeast: my new favorite microorganism

Today was rewarding. Over the course of six hours, flour, water, salt and a bit o' honey (I hate those candies) and yeast came together and made a heaping basket of "Rustic Dinner Rolls" for Thursday.

Six hours is a while, yes, but the total active work time for the rolls was maybe thirty minutes? Including weighing out the ingredients. And I am a meticulous weigher.

If today's results are anything to go by (and I KNOW there will be many missteps), I can wrangle yeast successfully and I am excited about baking larger breads in the new year. To take the most basic ingredients in the kitchen, mix them up and wait (repeat, repeat, repeat, etc.) and then all of a sudden (er, six hours later, I mean) you have real actual bread. The crusty, oddly-shaped buns with delicate interiors that came out of the oven are a different beast than the soft, square ones I buy at the store. And I do like the store-bought rolls, but these were flavorful! with texture! and I made them! Small miracles.

(Sixteen rolls are rather more than two people need for a feast so we ate a few tonight, testing, testing, and Bruce's complaint comment was that, what with the crusty nature of the rolls, what will he use to sop up gravy now? My response: "You'll just have to split them and use the inside, you poor thing with your homemade rolls!")

Of course, bread is nothing new, but making anything besides quick breads is new for me, and I'm working hard to get neighborly with yeast. We are not enemies; I am just a bit shy. (Instant yeast is THE way to go--forget the tiny packets and lukewarm water!)

Tomorrow's preparations:

make gelato base
combine salt mixture for turkey
figure out good wine options
defrost smoked ham hock

Oh yeah, a rockin' smoked ham hock for the tastee stuffing!

---

Any such thing . . .

. . . as too many black coats?

I LOVE this.

But I already have more than one black wool coat.

Now, if it was any OTHER color, we'd be in business, unless that color was Orchid and cost $350.

Sigh.

the PLAN

We have a new range hood! Hooray! There was trial and error, and I got electrocuted, but it is in and now the Thanksgiving preparation can begin. A pot of turkey stock is bubbling away as I type.

This year makes turkey number three in my experience. I've learned many things over the last couple years and hope to have the most accident-free Thanksgiving ever!

(By accidents, I mean things like buying a turkey without giblets when such tokens are needed for gravy.)

---

THE MENU:

---

Salted Roast Turkey with Chipotle Glaze and Caramelized-Onion Gravy from the November 2008 Bon Appetit magazine. I scored a local pasture-raised turkey this year and look forward to seeing how it cooks up.

Sausage-Maple Bread Stuffing from last November's issue of Fine Cooking. Repeat performance--SO GOOD! (And the recipe is now online, if you are in a quandary about stuffing and looking for something amazing.)

Purée de pomme de terre à l'ail by Julia Child. I now declare this a tradition! This will be three years in a row.

Green Beans with Meyer Lemon Vinaigrette & Parmesan Breadcrumbs from the Nov/Dec 2008 issue of Fine Cooking. Bruce picked this out. He's not a big one for veg, but he disliked this one the least out of the ones I'd tagged. (I think it was the Parmesan that caught his eye.)

Rustic Dinner Rolls using a recent Cook's Illustrated magazine recipe. This is new--rolls from scratch! Yeast! I will make them tomorrow and pop 'em in the freezer.

Ocean Spray Jellied Cranberry Sauce, the only other item on the menu all three times. There is no substitute.

Gianduja Gelato (from The Perfect Scoop) for dessert, which we won't have room for until late Thursday night, if at all, but I can make this early and stash it in the freezer.

I'm not sure about the wine yet. (Must have several bottles so I can sip while I cook and not go crazy.) We've been drinking a lot of German stuff lately.

We took care of the major grocery shopping this morning, before the rush. I just have to put the cooking schedule together (what's on the stove/in the oven and when) and go in for some produce on Tuesday and that is it!

What are your Thanksgiving plans? Or, if you are Italian, what are you eating on Thursday night?

Past Thanksgivings . . .

---

chop chop

I'm thinking of cutting my hair off just so I can buy and wear this hat properly. I love cloches.

And I think maybe I should have studied secondary education instead of elementary.

18 November 2008 - 4th Grade

8.25
I've been in this class before, but that was for a mere half day, after lunch. I came done like a ton of bricks that day and things went smoothly.

Not quite the situation today, as morning prep time, so full of unpacking and de-jacketing and talking etc. is casual and haphazard. The students trickle in. It is a new day.

They are at Media now (I suppose "Library" doesn't cover enough territory? Horrors!) and I get to lay down the law when they get back. I am not encouraged by the disciplinary notes I found. Notes about biting; watch out for that kid! A BITING fourth grader?!

Yesterday's classroom was overdone frog-explosion style, but at least it was tidy and organized (that teacher must spend hours after school straightening up miscellaneous froggy objects). This room is simply an explosion. I can't stop myself from tidying piles of paper and books or putting pens and crayons away.

9.00
Flow flow flow. Keep flowing.

9.45
The only way this room is going to stay clean is if we pick things up each time we leave.

No tears! No biting! Yay!

I was bitten once, in a kindergarten class, four years ago. I don't sub in K classes anymore--and first grades rarely. First graders don't become proper first graders until January or so, and even then, a sarcastic, unfeeling cynic like me runs risks. I am teaching in a first grade on Friday, but only for half a day. The regular teacher will get their day going (hardest part, most routine) and prep them for my grand appearance after lunch.

Please teacher, prep them for my appearance!

12.15
Brought Lauren Myracle's Bliss to read with my peanut butter and jelly.

Still no tears. LOTS of arguing. Two trips to the nurse for eye problems. L. missing part of afternoon recess because I caught him throwing eraser bits at people. He gets to pick them all up off the floor, lucky duck.

I spend the next two days as a middle school MEDIA person. No idea what to expect. I hope for no crying and no biting. Is that asking too much?

17 November 2008 - 2nd Grade

It's 10.45am and I've made three kids cry.

That may be a record.

Two of them started because they don't adapt to change nor heed the soothing tones of a complete stranger (me). Lesson plans said go over new spelling words and then give pretest. We went over the words (oo combinations) and I passed out paper. I heard much commentary. One spiel: that they were supposed to take the posttest, not the pretest. They have pretests on Thursday and posttests on Friday. This was met by arguing from many parties. I maintained that, regardless of what they wanted, we were taking a pretest, right now.

Then start the quiet voices--J. is crying, J. is crying, T. is crying, T. is crying.

Ah, lovely.

I am no stranger to test anxiety, but tears over a pretest are unfounded, since the score does not count. (NOTE: Perfectionist eight-year-olds do not care about this.) (This sort of thing makes me long for the apathy of middle schoolers.)

T., through streaky tears, explains that they were supposed to have last week's posttest today, that notes went home and it was all very very important.

I do use a soothing voice (really! I have one!) and let her know that her teacher will be back tomorrow and take care of everything, and that today we are following the plans and taking a pretest and it is OKAY. Really. Really.

J. is obviously embarrassed about his tears so I ignore them and carry on. He drips throughout the test.

I read the words and sentences out of the book. Despite following the order in the book, I read them in the wrong order, according to the class, but tell them to just carry on, keep going, don't worry. They are upset. There's nothing like not following Standard Operating Procedure in a second grade, unless you are in a 1st grade . . . or, horrors, a KINDERGARTEN.

(How easily they forget my bit at the beginning of class, about how I will do things differently than their normal teacher and that is OKAY. Really.) (They never remember, and for certain things, routine is the only way the kids work. Of course, the teacher will neglect to leave me such crucial information in the lesson plans.)

But, alas! we have another salty-eyed casualty, as I find young J. copying words off the new spelling word list that everyone oh-so-carefully put away. I take his pretest, say that I'm disappointed he made the decision to cheat, and walk away. The test continues; J. puts his head down on his desk.

The classroom itself resembles a Hallmark store on steroids, only with frogs. Frogs are this teacher's Thing. Stuffed fuzzy frogs, frog posters, giant stuffed furry frogs, frog curtains, tiny stuffed floppy frogs, frog figurines (oh, the figurines), frog cutouts and plastic frogs hanging from the ceiling and clinging to the windows and one real frog pet. The place is a frog marketing museum. (Or, as I thought when I walked in, piles, towers, shelves and stacks of utter crap.) Egypt's Biblical Plague of Frogs came through and never left. I spent the day stepping on frogs, picking up knocked-over frogs and moving frogs out of the way so I could write on the board. As the students are studying dinosaurs and Thanksgiving right now, little pilgrims, turkeys and terrible lizards round out the mix, enveloped in the green embrace of no fewer than nine giant hanging spider plants and eighteen other photosynthesizers spread around the room, ranging from tiny ivies to non-hanging giant spider plants.

I thought I'd walked into a mad rainforest experiment! Honest, it took actual searching to find the teacher's desk and it took a while before the pencil sharpener turned up.

Oy.

12 noon

No more tears except J. the cheater kept throwing pencils so I took them ALL out of his desk while the class was at music and he came to me going, "My pencils are gone!" and I said, "Yeah. Why do you think I took them all, hmmm?"

Then followed a very serious discussion about pointy objects and eyes, etc.

So he teared up and asked how he could do his work without pencils. I said how about you work on not throwing pencils during math and I'll give you one pencil to use? He agreed to this, and I checked in with him every thirty minutes about pencil throwing. How often does one get to say, "Good job not throwing pencils during math! Let's keep it up through Social Studies!"?

I brought December's Bon Appetit to read while I eat lunch. Not the best choice when one dines on peanut butter and jelly. Ag.

1.00

My voice hurts. So far, my hair has gotten caught in two frog mobiles. This room is giving me ADD.

End of Day

More tears on the playground, as P. froze in the uppermost level of the playground structure thing and stood screaming at the top of her lungs. She's an inclusion student and spent much of the day with the Resource teachers, but I don't know her situation. Right now I don't know what is wrong because she lisps and lisping while crying/screaming is bad for the effective transmission of information. She'd locked her knees and elbows and kept crying about her toes and her back and itching everywhere. My mind's whirling, thinking maybe her muscles seized up or she has some inner gut trauma? Five minutes of coaxing and talking and gentle shoving got her on the ground and one of the students took her to the nurse. I think she just freaks out. She came back shortly, talking about scratching and lotion I don't know what. I didn't really want to know. She'd rubbed a spot raw just under her nose.

Overall, that was a nice group of kids. Tomorrow is fourth grade. I expect less crying. Hopefully.

ding-dong!

We had a visitor! Actual company!

Former college roommate and super science educator Julie came to check out Omaha for a (far too short) couple of days. Most of our activities revolved around eating food, and when we weren't eating, we were planning what to eat and where to eat and how soon we could eat and shouldn't we go for a walk? I cooked filet mignon for the first time and Julie made and ate Malted Milk Ice Cream for the first time (complete with chopped-up Whoppers inside; David Lebovitz, you are a god).

Also thrown in the mix were Belgian Waffles with Mascarpone Cream Cheese, Sweet Potato French Fries w/Banana Ketchup, glorious stacked grilled veg sandwiches, Sarah's Magic Pancakes and Bacon, Ginger Liqueur drinks and we finished off the weekend with dinner at a Thai restaurant, thank you Bruce.





I don't have a terribly social nature, but these years of moving have made me more of a solitary being than I like. In a way, it is a gift, since when I DO have friends around, I rediscover how much I care about them and how amazing-brilliant-wonderful they are.

Here's someone I've known since 1995. We shared a tiny dorm room for two years and then a house for one. Here's someone I can say anything to, who chirps back when I talk in a stupid British accent and writes ten-year old punch lines on my bathroom mirror with a dry-erase marker for me to discover and laugh over. It's lovely.

It was difficult to go back to boring old substituting (and boring old meals) after Julie left, but I am determined to make more phone calls and hopefully more visits to people.

Friends living in states with sunshine right now get priority. Kristin???

november

Nothing exciting today, except it was over 80° and yet they are predicting snow on Thursday & Friday with lows in the 20s. But today was quite glorious in the weather department.

late night buns

Click through the photo to learn about my fascinating adventures making Chinese meat buns last night. Oy.

argh

I just went to look for my Booklist text file that I keep all handy-dandy on my desktop. It isn't there. It isn't in the trash. It isn't on my backup harddrive. It is gone.

(It lived near the trash can; I must have tossed it by accident.)

The Booklist file is (was) where I dropped titles of things I wanted to read or look into. Which edition of a translated book to get & which to avoid. Books on topics I fall in and out of obsession with: subways/underground systems, the 1920s, Louis XIV. Lists of book recommendations off of authors' blogs, bulletin boards, books to get at the library, etc.

I've had that ongoing lowly text file since . . . 2001? 2000?

I still have my pre-millennium box o' paper lists under my bed, but CRAP! That's a lotta info lost to the electrons!

I will try to look at this as a clean slate. The list had gotten quite long, somewhat unmanageable. (But I loved it.) I am in no shortage of books to read.

I will back up my computer.

(But I did vote today; hooray!)

As the holiday season approaches . . .

Please make sure your Amazon Wish List is up-to-date.

Just a suggestion.

entrez

Wouldn't it be neato to découpage a door with doorknob photos? Even more fun to set up a hidden camera and watch people try to enter.

Today I did not work. Today, instead, I got paid (yes!), picked a couple items up at the bookstore and tried my hand at another Chinese dish, Chicken Kow. Before any chicken could become Kow, it had to be "velveted" in water and oh it came out so nice and smooth . . . hence the "velvet" name, I spose. New technique! Yes! Thank you, Irene Kuo!

I am an ace stir-fryer and my knife skills have improved lots (especially in the "cutting same-size pieces" and slicing raw meat departments). I'm in love with the rice cooker. Noodles "R" us! I've gone through countless bottles of soy sauce and jars of hoisin; the oyster sauce bottle is almost empty; the bean sauce has a mere teaspoon left. I just bought my third bottle of sherry (for the food, not me!). If last year's Indian Food Adventure was all about spices, 2008's Chinese Cuisine Extravaganza is about sauces. And I LOVE making and mixing sauces. (I love spices, too, but all that measuring and pan roasting and grinding takes soooo long.)

There are still a few things I can't let 2008 go by without doing:

+ fry up some tasty wontons (with crabmeat inside!)
+ steam meat/veg filled buns
+ red-cook something (seitan? chicken?)
+ soup!

I'm declaring this weekend Wonton Weekend. (I think I've mentioned making wontons on here several time, but now I mean business!) I even put it on my iCal computer calendar.

I'm one obsessed with planning, and even though 2009 is going to be about Baking and Grains and Sarah and the Sourdough Starter, etc. one cannot live by bread alone. So, as that's going on, I think I will stay on this continent and wander about the recipes of Mexico.

After that? Japan? Vietnam? North Africa? South India? Canada? What fun!

le sigh

I had a half-day stint as a third-grade teacher today. I met with the regular teacher. She was slapdash and irritated that I asked Specific Questions about What To Do. And later in the afternoon, the Superintendent of schools dropped by! Oh boy!

Subbing is frustrating on oh so many levels, one of which is my thinking I take myself too seriously. Really, why am I such a hard-ass? It does not matter if Madison/Maddisyn/Madysen doesn't finish his/her spelling worksheet or that Jordan/Jordyn/Jordenn can't keep his/her mouth shut.

But it should not take six hours for me to wind the stress out of my shoulders after spending four hours with a crowd of nine-year-olds.

On the plus side, my boots DID come today (and they fit) and I did read Paper Towns in one sitting.

we visited a big fancy house today

And I wore my big blue coat and took a bunch of Holga photos and one Polaroid and 89 digital images.

Then we ate homemade coffee ice cream and watched the Sox lose.

Augh.

All I can do now is clear the loserness with a shower and an episode of Jeeves and Wooster. And root for the Phillies, of course. I hold grudges.

(I am cheered by the fact that I bought boots on Zappos.com last night and they will be here very very VERY soon.)

bookish frenzy & etc.

Would you click through to Flickr and tell me how you drink your morning cup, whatever it may be?

Today's post brought John Green's Paper Towns (I got the blue cover) and The Perfect Scoop by the delicious David Lebovitz. (If you don't already read his blog, you should!) I've made several batches of sorbet and ice cream, but so far, nothing Bruce has really liked. This book will change that.

One of the reasons I love FALL is for the concurrent occasion of book releases and my birthday--this happily means I'm gifted with new books or the means to purchase new books. Bruce's mom gave me a book gift card and I used it to buy Kelly Link's new collection, Pretty Monsters, and the monstrous King Arthur Flour Whole Grain Baking to prepare for 2009: The Year of Baking, aka: Sarah Tries and Tries and Tries to make Real Bread. (I've also got to make it to the library to pick up the six bread baking books they have on hold for me. This research is necessary to decide which book to purchase with the Amazon gift certificate my brother gave me.) And at my local indy bookstore, they are holding a copy of Neil Gaiman's latest The Graveyard Book and patiently waiting for Graceling to arrive for me.

Is that all? I think so. Fall is very busy in the book world. I feel spoiled and safe--safe because I'm in no position to run out of things to read.

In other news, it is getting very close to Thanksgiving menu planning. Ooooh.

I am getting my Artsy-Crafty Studio in order and will post photos when it is presentable. The sewing machine has been out for two days (secret project!) (not curtains, yet) so I feel very creative.

Oh! I am pulling all the strings I can to get olde college pal Julie out here next month--not for Thanksgiving, sadly (one of these days it will be more than just Bruce and myself) (wait, that means fewer leftovers . . . hmmm)--but for fun and games. Like, I can hang out with a girl! (Bruce is a wonderful guy and all, but his patience for shoe shopping and Womanly Topics only goes so far.) Julie's the one on the left; a couple of you met her back in Boston:



Lori, the one without the nose job, got married this summer and is applying to grad school in environmental science or entomology. I can't wait to see which one she decides on.

HELPFUL HINT: Today I found out that UPS Stores accept Styrofoam packing peanuts for reuse! I have two garbage bags full to drop off.

The end.

a cute kitty shot for you

Guess which two cats are sharing a chair for a nap?

Yay! They are friends! Success!

And for my next trick, I will teach them to meow/miao/mew in chorus.

I'm being watched

I've never seen a praying mantis in the wild until yesterday! This one is camping out on the back door screen.

We found an awesome Asian market today that had the right brand of Chinkiang vinegar, tons of fresh noodles, my favorite coconut milk, and so many fresh vegetables that I will go back with the recipes I've been putting off like all of bok choy's cousins that I've never seen before. We are stocked UP.

Tonight I made a noodle dish out of my current favorite cookbook, The Seventh Daughter, that was something like Chinese spaghetti. Amazing sauce.

Not much else going on -- good eating; I'm happy.

overheard

Says a fourth grade boy in theatrical, almost Shakespearean tones, upon exiting the building for recess:

"Hello, sweet daylight!"

I'm a school librarian tomorrow.

The Edith

100_2640, originally uploaded by Queen Bee Creations.

I put my recent credit card cashback money to a good use: a new bag! It's been over a year since my last purse purchase, and this one by Queen Bee is made of reclaimed/recycled wool.

I ordered the green one.

thirtywon!

Thank you everyone for the birthday wishes and emails and phone calls and etc. Those of you who forgot, you are off my Christmas card list! Er, holiday cookbook list, I mean!

It was a great weekend. On Friday night, I took Bruce to see The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari downtown at the indy Film Streams theatre. (Their Halloween movie series is called Film Screams, ha ha.) Dr. Caligari is a 1920 German silent film of the Expressionist genre--very artsy and DRAMATIC!--and they had a few musicians do live accompaniment. I saw the movie on DVD a year or two ago and enjoyed it, but one should never turn down an opportunity to view silent films with live scores! Never!

Saturday started with an amazing breakfast in a small cafe in Plattsmouth called The Chocolate Moose (they specialize in dessert). We'd been there for coffee before, but they only do breakfast on Saturdays and only for a few hours--until the food runs out. We had each a slice of sweet onion and Gruyere fritatta, roasted sweet potato wedges, bacon, crispy fried bread fritter(?) with apple butter inside and a strawberry & Nebraska white wine smoothie shooter. And coffee. It was amazing. We left with a slice each of pumpkin cheesecake and chocolate passion flourless cake, for later.

We dropped the desserts at home and sped over to the farmers market on the west side of town (usually go to the downtown market). Germana called from Italy just as I handed over $1.50 for garlic; it was lovely to hear her voice. Berkshire pork chops, green onions, two ears of sweet corn, a bag of Gravenstein apples, fresh cider and a tomato joined the garlic and we were set.

I like to visit the Humane Society and interact with the animals. Pet the dogs, whistle to the guinea pigs, play with the cats. We were in the area, and figured we would just stop by. We stopped, and looked, and petted, and then we brought someone home.





Now, we've talked about getting another cat, but put it off because of that two-week holiday in August and never got back to it. We think her name is Paulette (sticking with silent movie actors) but I also like Minta. Much of the weekend was taken up with ADJUSTING. Keaton is very curious about this new creature, but she isn't comfortable with him getting too close (really he is enormous in comparison; you can't blame her). Basically, she runs around the house with a very short attention span and Keaton Watches and Follows. He approaches, she hisses, he waltzes away and Stares. It might take a week or two, but I think they'll be fine.

She was NOT a birthday present--I think Bruce wanted her more than I did.

We ate at my one of my favorite restaurants, McFoster's Natural Kind Cafe on Saturday night and came home to eat dessert and open presents.

AND, because Buster Keaton's birthday was also on Saturday, we watched one of his shorts. T'was a lovely finish.

The Lovely Ms. Silvey on "lost" Newbery?

The last winner/honor I read was 2006's Criss Cross.

ETA: List of winners & honors.

Spoooooooooooky!

There's a copy of Neil Gaiman's NEW title: The Graveyard Book waiting for me at the local bookstore!!! !!! !!!!!!

A new Robin McKinley last month and a new Diana Wynne Jones over the summer. What a great year. Oh--and Kelly Link has a new short story collection.

I'm going to Locus to see if there are any upcoming releases I should know about.

when it rains

And to think that last week I was mourning my lack of work, thought I'd NEVER get into the subbing system, etc. etc. Friday was, well, it was a Friday at an elementary school, and I was a sub in a sixth grade classroom. I knew it wouldn't be the easiest of days.

And it wasn't, but it was not the worst, either.

There were two girls with attitude and a boy who would only type obscenities instead of his social studies project in the computer lab. I can deal with that. But the boredom of supervision--over assignments I'd NEVER give to my students! Not knowing names or what the rules are or where supplies can be found. Augh! Substitute teaching is often a cross between babysitting and herding cats.

Frankly, I'd prefer the cats.

I already have a job for Tuesday (5th grade), and really hope I don't get a call bright and early tomorrow morning. . . I do NOT want to be a full-time sub. It would drive me to drink, Germana! (OHMY: You may have forgotten that Nebraska's liquor laws allow for sales of alcohol in regular grocery stores--everything from wine coolers to vodka. Last night, whilst perusing the offerings at our neighborhood Hy-Vee, I discovered Domaine de Canton on sale @ 30% off! I've been drooling over it since I saw an ad in Imbibe Magazine and Bruce decided I needed it. We took it home and it is AMAZING.)

In more pleasant non-teaching news, I finished the third book from my last Persephone batch this afternoon, The Fortnight in September by R.C. Sherriff (like Seinfeld, it is "about nothing" except day-to-day trivialities. Amusing, gentle, quiet, lovely, etc.), meaning I get to order another three. Now begins the delightful task of choosing.

No progress on the curtains this weekend, but here is a sneak peek at part of the creation process, when I was trying to get my leaves just right:

now I remember why I hate this

It wasn't AWFUL, but it was lots of other things.

I came home, had two gin and tonics and watched Netflix DVDs for hours and hours.

And now I am going to bed.

developments

Okay! I got the Substitute Teacher Machine up and running and I have a job tomorrow! This is good for the pocketbook; hopefully that won't be the only thing that gets me through the day. It's in a 6th grade classroom (pro) but on a FRIDAY (con). Fridays are often sucktastic for regular teachers. We'll see. Hopefully I won't have lunch or recess duty--those are difficult because I don't know the rules, so I just walk around looking stern.

I must pack a lunch!

The correct range was delivered today and I broke it in with a 4 lb. roasted pork loin with fig sauce.

Cross your fingers for me--

Really, Never!

These file folders are right up my alley. Except I'd also want one that said "Maybe/Not."

I had too many minor adventures today. The morning got off to a rollicking start with the appliance company delivering the wrong range. The right one, ah, they can't get it out until tomorrow. No problem, we'll just eat out for dinner. This evening: ring ring, it's the Substitute Teacher Machine! I declined the job because the range's scheduled delivery time was during school hours. I mourned the loss of $125 and, after a moment's thought berated myself: why not reschedule the delivery, dummy? Then the Substitute Teacher Machine called again and I was all set to take it! and! then! my stupid PIN number didn't work. SARAH FAIL.

Added to Thursday's To-Do List: Call school district and find out what's up with my PIN.

I applied for a job at the Air Force base today, many thanks to my sister for helping me tweak my resume's Objective and Misc. She also gave me an assignment to think of jobs/careers that interest me and list the pros & cons. I came up with a list but am open to suggestions. I CRAVE suggestions! Anything you think I might enjoy or be good at? Part-time, full-time, rarely working at all; throw 'em at me.

A reminder of some things I am NOT good at/around and could not acquire gainful employment doing:

• working with dumb adults


• singing (I can carry a tune, and I got rhythm, but voice is blah)


• heavy lifting (nothing above say, 75 lbs.)


• babies


• smiling


• hospitals


• bodily fluids


• seeing things without corrective lenses (no pilot or astronaut positions)


• moderate semicolon use


• texting on my phone (I am v e r y slow)


• anything involving comic sans

And if you need ideas, here are a few things I AM good at/around that you might not have known:

• hedge trimmers


• untangling things


• driving tractors


• pulling pints


• throwing a spiral


• making lists (har har!)


• pointing out what's wrong with things/people/ideas suggesting improvements

Here's to a quiet Thursday.

a discovery

I forgot to tell you the other day, that I discovered my NEW favorite pasta shape is orecchiette. Excellent mouthfeel, if you can stop thinking about what the word means in Italian, and stop considering what those would taste like.

Farewell, penne! You aren't #1 anymore.

It's good to stay up-to-date on these sort of things; I like to keep you informed. Do you have a favorite pasta shape?

title?

Remember when I worked at that paint-your-own-pottery place in San Antonio? The place where this:


was my ticket to employment? (not really, although I DID bring it to my interview.)

I am updating my resume and can't think of a good job title for that position.

You may remember that job from such blog excerpts as:

Argh. I resent my job. I resent the people who come into the studio. I have no problem helping people or answering questions. I do have issues with those who do not listen and those who are rude. They issue commands about what they need and want. I often feel like a waitress--only there's no tipping when the customer leaves. I'm more like a busboy.

There is one advantage that my old crappy big-box bookstore job had over life at the happy painty fun ceramics studio: interactions with even the worst bookstore customers were limited to a few minutes, max. At my present job, people are quite happy to park their not-even-remotely-artistically-inclined selves at a table for hours (1 & 1/2 to 6 hours, really) on end, needing constant:

1) suggestions about what to paint
2) suggestions about which colors to use
3) suggestions about what to do with the (finally) chosen colors of glaze and how to paint those designs
4) suggestions about which brushes to use
5) even more suggestions for design ideas because they decided they didn't like your first batch (OR they demand you find a picture/object/symbol online and print it out so they can copy/trace it)
6) help correcting the massive mistakes they made because they didn't follow your instructions about how to paint with glaze
7) supervision so that they don't throw brushes away, eat paint, glue their unfired ceramic piece to a (flammable) wooden something or other or vice versa, or leave without paying
8) reassurance that their artwork is cute and/or nice or that it will look cute and/or nice after it is fired
9) help (again) correcting mistakes
10) telling that NO, you will not paint it for them

Oh my. And these people are coming here for FUN?

I guess Clerk would work. In-House Artistic Assistant? Ceramics Specialist? Glazer & Kiln-Loader? Annoyed Renaissance Woman would be PERFECT, but would not help me get a job.

Any ideas?

first hints of fall

Apples at the farmers market! I was tempted to bring pumpkins and eggplant home but had no extra arms for squash and Bruce is not an eggplant fan--and I spent my last monies on local pork products. Bacon or eggplant? Hmmm. Not a question that needs much thought.

I spent almost ALL of yesterday in the kitchen. Fried rice was on the dinner menu, but that requires COLD rice. Usually I use leftover rice from the day before, but our household rice consumption is not up to the eight cups of leftover rice the recipe called for. So steps were taken! Cook the rice (a handful of black rice will tinge all your rice purple, by the way), cool the rice down, slowly, de-clump the rice, then refrigerate the rice. A pain in the ass, but it was SO worth it. (You fry eight diced slices of bacon nice and crisp and then fry the RICE in all that lovely bacon grease.)

Before all that could start, there was the applesauce, which took forever but is tasty and I have to freeze at least half to enjoy later.

Then the pork chops and frying the fried rice and THEN the eating and the dishes and whoosh.

And this morning I made blueberry coffeecake.

But the fridge and freezer are full and I don't have to cook tonight and will instead direct my energies to completing the detail work on the lino block. I did a test print and it's looking good so far. I am taking photos as I go and will post the series when it's all done. Hopefully BEFORE 2008 rolls around.

What with all this edible whatnot, I did want to direct your cursors to J.Liz's new food blog, Food Epiphany, if you didn't know. I've had CSA membership in my sights for several years, but all the moving made me shy from commitment; J.Liz chronicles her food adventures! (sorry--that sounds corny (ha ha: corn!))

things that depress me

-- Band-Aids on old people's faces; the older the person, the worse it is.

--the word "caper"

---

Am now reading two short story collections--short short stories by Saki and a novella + short stories by Thomas Mann. Both are distinctly un-Middlemarchian.

we are at 70%

Another small step taken on my 2008 Required Reading:

1. The Art of Eating by M. F. K. Fisher
2. Frost in May by Antonia White
3. Lady Audley's Secret by Mary Elizabeth Braddon
4. Letty Fox: Her Luck by Christina Stead
5. Middlemarch by George Eliot
6. On Photography by Susan Sontag
7. The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon by Sei Shonagon
8. The Talented Mr. Ripley by Patricia Highsmith
9. The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte
10. Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell

Tonight I turned the last of the 800+ pages of Middlemarch and t'was good. There was too much political whatnot for my tastes, but I'm glad I read it.

Now, it is time to pick up something a tad more modern and less overwrought. Perhaps even something from the 20th century, or, dare I posit, the 21st? [gasp!]

take pause

Today we watched the film version of Persepolis. It was excellent.
I made blondies with filberts and chocolate chunks in the Edge pan Germana sent me. They are also excellent.
I am 100 pages from finishing Middlemarch. Not that I'm in a rush--it is good stuff--but I will be happy to finish it.
The lino block for my curtains will be finished episode of This American Life by episode of This American Life; thank you streaming website! I listened to four or five this weekend. The curtains better be worth it.

focus, focus . . . focus!

(ooh, love that Crater Lake blue)

I am a putz. The only questions and situations I am dealing with right now are the immediate, day-to-day ones, such as do I have clean socks? and what to make for dinner. Warm feet and eating well ARE well and good, yes, but I need to make some decisions about longer-term issues. Like employment. Like changing my health insurance to the correct STATE.

But, living in the moment! That's not a bad thing (Oprah would support me, right?). (No, I don't watch Oprah.) (Anymore.) Except I feel like I'm running in neutral, just doing what is necessary without Major Goals or Plans. I am embarrassed and scared. I'm avoiding.

On the action side of things, today I did read 200 pages of Middlemarch, more than I've done in the last three weeks of "reading" it. George Eliot is wordy and long-winded and verbose. Quite erudite at times, also. There are amusing passages I don't know if I am supposed to laugh at-

". . . and the red drapery which was being hung for Christmas spreading itself everywhere like a disease of the retina."

Those retinal diseases, one doesn't often run into them in works of Literature, much less in reference to the decor of a church. Is it just a complex way of saying the place was gaudy? Am I to be struck by the odd-but-apt simile? Or is the author making fun? This is my first exposure to Eliot; I know Austen is witty and humorous, but don't know of adjectives attributed to Eliot besides . . . serious.

One more-

". . . for no man was more incapable of flashy make-believe than Mr. Casaubon: he was as genuine a character as any ruminant animal . . . "

Among your options: cattle, giraffes, sheep, goats, wildebeest, yaks, llamas, etc. Being that it IS Mr. Casaubon, I'm going with cattle.

The use of "ruminant" also plays off well with "ruminate" the verb, which solitary Casaubon loves to do. (Ooh, English teacher moment, there!)

If I was a ruminant, I'd be one of those shy, panicky antelope who start at every sound and flee! flee! flee! Perhaps I shall try to cultivate a more giraffe-oriented persona and just "be above it all." (sorry) Maybe a wild water buffalo would be better; they seem more inclined to stick to their guns about things.

"Fuck, yeah, I'm sitting in this river. What are you gonna do about it?"

Labor(ing in the kitchen) Day

Bought beautiful peaches at the farmers market on Saturday, made unlovely tarte aux pêches today. Julia came off the shelf last night as I prepared myself for the forbidding pâte sucrée!!! July's birthday pie action gave me some confidence, but tarts don't give you as much space to cover up mistakes. And I made several, such as not partially-baking the pastry shell enough, not sealing it in the pan perfectly (leading to shrinkage of the pastry shell), and THAT caused pastry shell leakage. Leakage!

Such problems sound awfully unsanitary.

I used a tart pan with a removable base but, because of leakage, the rim lost some of its removability and became stuck to the tart in places. I had to pry the (removable) rim from the tarte aux pêches. Fortunately, such trauma did not affect the flavor and I was happy to find that the ugly beast came out more than palatable.

We spotted the first apples at the market, too. Maybe next time?

Peaches smell like sunshine.

happy buns

I picked up two sets of developed film today and the photos turned out only okay. One was a roll of Holga film that had images on it from ALABAMA! The poor thing has been so neglected. The color film I had in my YashicaMat was old or something (I can't even remember what kind it was because I loaded it up in Texas) and it came out foggy so the lab guy cranked up the contrast a bit. A little too much on some, but at least I know the camera works properly. Now I just need to become one with my light meter. I will scan some photos later this week and load 'em up on Flickr if I'm not too embarrassed.

Dinner for the past two nights, however, was a rousing success. ROUSING! It's become an all-hoisin-all-the-time dinner show and we're loving it. I know I say this all the time, but I really really wish you people lived closer so you could help us eat all the food. Cooking for eleven (enchiladas verdes) at the coast was too much; two is sometimes too little. (Actually, with Bruce's appetite, it is more like cooking for three.)

Believe it or not, I've broken the habit of a lifetime and now clean the kitchen to spotlessness every night after dinner. No putting it off until tomorrow anymore! ("Tomorrow" that sometimes becomes the next tomorrow, etc.) This means no waking up to ugh depressing gross kitchen mess anymore and an overall better morning. Mornings are the antithesis of good in my opinion, so every little bit helps.

I'm going to peel Keaton off my lap so I can boil water for tea and finish cataloging my vacation-purchase books in LT. Good evening--

An Eye For Annai

Happy, sad, happy, sad, etc.

Hooray!

I love this.

grateful for:

• the stack of Y: The Last Man graphic novels on hold for me at the library.


• the awesome meat market & specialty food shop near the library that has actual friendly neighborhood butchers in.


• the single remaining lab in Omaha that will process my film.


• The Dresden Dolls


• cookbooks!


• the pesto I made in a rush the night before we left on vacation (had some today, was good; thank you Cook's Illustrated!)


• that the basil plants I hacked down to make the aforesaid pesto put out new leaves in my absence!


• the monstrous, working cast-iron 1920s fan Bruce found at an antique shop (very photogenic! Will show!).


• not turning on the a/c today but leaving the house open.


• Worcestershire sauce. Every time I use it, I stand there for a minute just inhaling from the bottle. Sometimes I just pull it out of the fridge to waft under my nose.

I'm so food-oriented.

returned

I could have stayed away longer.

here's a thought:

When your neighbor asks you to water her tomato plant and says, "Pick the ripe ones!" you don't leave them on the plant to rot for two weeks. Really, I'm not doing it to be nice--pick and enjoy! Really!

I am grateful that all my plants are alive.
I do wish the a/c wasn't on the fritz.
I look forward to picking up a happy cat and a whole lotta mail tomorrow morning.

parting shot

We'll be back in Nebraska tomorrow night. These two weeks flew by. I'm not quite ready to go back to civilization.

still in oregon (yay!)

Bruce and I are finishing up our two week holiday in Lincoln City, in a hotel right on the ocean. I spent much of yesterday thinking to myself, "I gotta turn off that noisy fan," only to remember it was the crashing waves and not noisy at all.

We spent one week in Bandon (southern Oregon coast) with Bruce's extended family, including his mom, two pair of aunts and uncles, two first cousins, two second cousins, one brother and one each in the niece and nephew department. I may have missed someone. Over the course of three hours I made green enchiladas for a CROWD and everyone ate them. I also participated in some questionable Beach Games ringmastered by one of the uncles, part of which involved a carrying horse poo on a spoon relay.

That didn't really feel like a classic vacation moment. It was more like a classic "What the hell?" moment. But I am a sport, and didn't want to be pegged as Bruce's Sissy SO, so I went along with it. I yelled and complained a lot, but I went along. And here I used to whine about my dad taking ages to take pictures of my family on vacations.

After these exciting times, we headed east to the isolated wilds of Crater Lake and I spent the better half of the day agog and open-mouthed with amazement at Such Natural Spectacularness! Bruce's photographer's assistant skills were very helpful and I'm looking forward to visiting the photo lab back in Omaha.

We drove up to Portland for a fortifying lunch at Bread & Ink on Hawthorne, one of my favorite restaurants and one where my mom and I often had lunch together. Although delicious and wonderful, I was still nervy; we were to stay at my dad's that night and observe the formal Meeting of Dad's New Wife. I had to further prepare myself by spending quality time at Powell's before venturing out to my dad's.

I lived through that experience and even spent the next morning with my dad + wife at the Japanese Gardens in Portland. And now we are in Lincoln City, where it is misty and 58 degrees (lovelovelove!) and things are very, very nice.

And now I shall stop and take up a book and a bottle of beloved Black Butte Porter (not available in Nebraska but on tap EVERYWHERE over here) (yay!) and relax.

I left my camera cable at home so all you get are crappy cell phone fotos.

I left my camera cable at home so all you get are crappy cell phone fotos., originally uploaded by arahsae.

Alternate title: Things realized on the plane.

I hope to track one down once we are in a city that has such things. Sigh.

Bruce and I are hanging out with his family near Bandon, Oregon for a little while. The weather has been fabulous and I've photographed four lighthouses with my Yashicamat.

So far, we've been to five bookstores and they were all below par and I've not made a single purchase. I am sad. The southern Oregon coast is not a bookish type of place. Now the central Oregon coast, ah--that's a whole different story.

impending reading bliss

[insert photo of me looking ecstatic] -- I still have my glasses on and have Morning Face. More worrisome, I have Morning Hair, and are therefore most unsuitable for photography.

Robin McKinley has an excerpt from her new book posted on her blog and it is loverly! Now the pain of patience is even more wearing. Argh.

Bruce and I are leaving on a long holiday tomorrow and I am preparing myself with a brow wax and pedicure this morning. This is my first brow wax since moving--and my third pedicure, ever. Hooray!

And I just realized I haven't shaved my legs in days, dammit. Must rectify.

nyet

Today a Russian bookstore owner spent five+ minutes trying to convince me to purchase books by Hemingway, Dickens, Kipling, and Faulkner (all like they were brand spanking new winners of Granta's Best Young Novelist awards). He didn't make much headway--although he did keep trying Famous Dead White Male Author after Famous Dead White Male Author--because, like MANY PEOPLE, I have already heard of them. In fact, I've even read their books! And taught of their works to wee middle schoolers! Fancy that!

I told him that but he kept going. We did share a dislike for Dickens, which was a nice moment. (I guess the Russian translations of Dickens are a bitch.)

He then stepped aside, and this is going from FAULKNER, people, to recommend Dan Brown. Of The Da Vinci Code fame. Faulker . . . natural progression . . . Dan Brown?! I may have committed a literary sin by placing those two names in one sentence.

When I said I wasn't interested in Mr. Brown's book, he asked if it was because I was Catholic and offended by the book. I wanted to say it was Mr. Brown's insipid, lacklustre writing style that offended me, but instead I said that regardless of my religion, I didn't care for his writing style.

And hasn't everyone who wanted to read The Da Vinci Code, read it by now? It's no spring chicken.

He said he liked The Da Vinci Code because he learned so much, like the the Internet was invented by Europeans. (This was better than the anti-Catholic rhetoric I expected. Of course, in that situation, I could have thrown down my Theology degree and gone a few rounds.)

I didn't want to get into a discussion about different people working on different ideas, collaboration, DARPA, inventing versus putting into use, it doesn't matter/I don't care who created the darn thing, etc. etc., so I said, "That's nice," and tried (again) to end the lecture and get my browsing finished.

Honestly, I think he was just trying to sell me some spendy books (all the ones he pointed out were classy leatherbound Classics) and I'm pretty sure his shop had far too many copies of Mr. Brown's paperback. It's just that he was so irritating and only succeeded in making me uncomfortable. I know how to pick out my own books! I know Hemingway is considered a Great American Author! (He asked me, "For Whom the Bell . . . ?" "Tolls?" I finish. "Rings," he says, "we say 'Rings.'" We who? Russians? They say "rings?")

* (ASIDE ONE)

As far as I can figure out (by looking at the Russian Wikipedia page on Hemingway), the Russian title of For Whom the Bell Tolls is this:

По ком звонит колокол

Which, through the magic of the European Interwebbynets translates to:

• After whom the bell calls
  
• The bell is rung on anyone
  
• On a clod the bell calls
  

OF COURSE books written in English and published elsewhere often have different titles; languages are different, you've got varied structure, tenses, alphabets, punctuation, etc. Even situations that you think would be straightforward, like an American book published in the UK, English to the Queen's English, even those book titles are sometimes changed. I'm not calling for an exact match, even with the amazing EuroNettyInterWeb at my fingertips. My point is: there is NO RINGING in my half-assed translations! (There is a rung, but no ringing!) It is TOLLS, that bell TOLLS, just like Donne wanted it to. And do you go to other countries and argue about the original titles of their books with native literature teachers? Hmmm?

** (ASIDE TWO)

I re-fed the translation into the translators (going from the Russian to English, putting that English back into Russian, and then clicking that Russian back into English) and I got this:

• After to whom names a call
  
• Bell wakes run on any
  
• On a clod of the requirement of a call
  

Oh InterEuroWebnet! Thanks to Google, I can access your random, pointless and amusing information.
[end of asides]

I approached the register with four books (including three green Viragos) and patiently waited behind some chatty elderly ladies. Then a massive hardcover Welsh-English dictionary caught my eye (this bad boy) on their Internet Sales shelf. I got a great deal for $25. (yes, I spent $25 on a Welsh language dictionary. I do come across Welsh words in my reading and have been wanting a Welsh dictionary for a long long time.) (And this way, I don't have to rely on the scores of fine online Welsh translators!) (I still need a decent Russian dictionary; mine sucks.)

Where was I--

Okay. So the elderly ladies finish, and the Russian man tells them to come back soon and not spend their money on Schnapps and drink too much. I get up to the counter and he spies that big fat book and gives a huge smile. "Ah, you found something else! Good, good!" The woman running the desk knocks five bucks off my total (!) and I pay and exit, safe as houses.

It was all quite entertaining but one obviously has to drop monies to keep this guy happy. If I'd nothing in my hands when he first approached me, I don't know what would have happened.

bountiful, bounty-full, oh, the fullness of the bounty!

All the hard work (and a nasty 3.30am thunderstorm experience where I pretty much demolished the poor thing) paid off and I ate some tomato victory today! A couple more look like they'll be ready for eatin' tomorrow.

Bruce is in DC for the week and, therefore, I'm spending a lot of time in the kitchen. Yesterday I made dried-cranberry & chocolate chip muffins (half are in the freezer; usually I make brownies and then eat them all before he returns) (he doesn't like this) and then French toast was on the dinner menu. I have never been able to make decent French toast, but there was half a loaf of day-old Italian bread on the counter and I figured The Joy of Cooking can't go wrong here, and it didn't. It was the best French toast I've ever had. EVOR.

Today I tweaked around with a broccoli & feta pasta salad recipe (and made quite enough to last the rest of the week) and tested a tofu dish for Jaden of Jaden's Steamy Kitchen. She's publishing her first cookbook and, a couple months ago, asked readers to help test recipes. I readily volunteered; this was the third recipe I've cooked. I now have my eye on her ice cream recipe . . .

So much food!

What with all this kitcheny goodness, it's been bothering me---I used to describe myself as an active, outdoorsy type. That officially stopped being the case round about the time I left Boston. Despite living in the city, active, outdoorsy activities were right outside, be it striding about the Arnold Arboretum with Dana, cutting through the Fens en route to Simmons or excellent Thai food, or wandering along the Charles. It's not THE WILD, but it is green and spacious.

Then I moved to Nebraska, which is FLAT and doesn't have the sort of draw for someone who grew up near mountains and the coast and the Gorge. I did go hiking at Indian Cave State Park when I lived here before, but that was the extent of my endeavors.

Given all this, I have gone on a few walks since moving here. Like, THREE. Around suburbia. It is not that much fun.

Question: I want to get active. Should I get some running shoes (I have nothing decent to run in)? I don't like running. I get shin splints unless I'm on bark chips or dirt. Unless there are magic shoes that would enable me to run on concrete? OR, should I buy a bike? I like bicycling. There are several places within biking distance, including the grocery store. But bikes are way more expensive than shoes and require purchasing a lock and helmet.

Maybe I'll just start scanning Craigslist for bikes. How much does a decent bike cost?

Cast of Past Dreams

What with the move and all, I've been doing a lot of sorting. Today I found a thick bundle of paper of all shapes and sizes, from scraps to scribbled-on envelopes and old college assignments. I started diligently keeping track of dreams in high school and kept it up through undergrad.

Recounting dreams is boring to others, so I will only venture to list some of the starring players in my subconscious, circa the 1990s.

Ahem.
Remember, this was during the 90s. These are not recent dreams. Honest.

• singing fish
• the cast of Spaceballs
• John Cusack (um, yeah; we were dating)
• giant orange and black Goliath Beetle
• The Beatles
  
• fish that turned into that Powder guy
  
• Jim Carrey (he wrote on my hand. SO high school.)
  
• Mulder & Scully of the X-Files
• Scout's brother Jem from To Kill A Mockingbird
• miniature dog that lived underwater
• Indiana Jones
• George Clooney look-alike with a drinking problem (I was going to save him)
  
• the main angel character from "Touched by an Angel"
  

There were an awful lot of fish, aquariums and fishing in my dreams. Lots of fish and caves. I don't want to know what Freud has to say about that.

food day

Farmers Market to butcher to Whole Foods to home and a tasty dinner of (Italian) orecchiette with (local) fennel, (local) sausage and tomatoes (out of a can).

And guess who has a new food fetish?

the brain doth slip.

Despite reading a review on bookshelves of doom and adding Graceling to my Amazon wishlist, it wasn't until I poked around said list this morning that the author's name CLICKED. Kristin Cashore? That sounds familiar. Wasn't she in some of my classes at Simmons?

Like the fairy tale class with Ruth Bottigheimer? Meera? Jo? Remember that? Oh my.

A quick Google-search later and, hooray, hurrah, THERE is her blog and her photo and it is she! The book will be published this fall, and it looks fabulous. She even scored a Tamora Pierce blurb.

Publishing is such a tough business; it's great to see talented people succeed.

PS: I think I found another Simmons bookclub.

test run

. . . and that's what I'm facing right now. I don't know how much longer I can let the chocolate sorbet firm up in the freezer. It's all about texture, right? I know what it tastes like (gotta clean out the bowl). You can't make ice cream or any of its cousins without tasting the "batter." That's crazy talk! But mushy frozen desserts are not ideal.

Maybe thirty more minutes.

?

Okay, so I finished Lady Audley's Secret yesterday and loved every minute. Counted five more uses of "stupid." I also learned some new insults, such as:

"Poor fellow! he's a dear, good-hearted, stupid creature, and twenty times better than that peripatetic patent refrigerator, Mr. Robert Audley."

That sounds like a Wodehouse line to me, as does this one:

"Robert had a prim bedroom . . . and he awoke every morning upon a metallic spring mattress, which always gave him the idea of sleeping upon some musical instrument . . ."

Very amusing, throughout. And the completion of that book puts me at 70% for the year.

I am sorbet-bound! Can't wait any longer!

uncouth folly

I have been sitting in a pleasant room thoroughly enjoying Lady Audley's Secret for the past few hours. It's great fun, this olde tale that first hit paper in serial form in the early 1860s. Braddon overuses the word "stupid" (I don't think of Victorians as being fond of this word; then again, this is a SENSATIONAL novel) (!!!) and some passages are far too charming and/or naive or over-explained. It's like a soap opera, really, except it is Lit-tra-ture. Oh ye high and mighty bookes.

Anyway, I was reading and stopped to rearrange the cat spilling off my lap and my mind recounted the books I bought today and my gaze wandered over to the bookshelf full of overflowing with my Unread Books. It hit me (like a huge pile of unread books) that almost everything I have read within the past few years and will read in the future (those unread books, see) is decidedly non-modern. Generally, it is pre-WWII and, often, of the British persuasion. Or about the UK during WWII. Or France in the Sun King's era. Or books about lazy rich men à la Bertie Wooster. The only recent/new fiction I read is YA or children's books.

This isn't terribly shocking since publishing has been around for a long time and most of the books in existence are "older" (and by that term I suppose I mean before I was born) (?) but why do I avoid recent publications? Oprah? The high cost of hardcovers? That books about sex, drugs and rock & roll bore me? That my inner ear is more attuned to the vulgar writings of the Victorians (stupid!) than today's garish slang? Why do I read what I read? Why do I like this stuff? What does that say about me? This all led me to think about my friends' reading habits and what their bookshelves say about them.

I offer you no answers, only random, incoherent snippets of thought. I do get a kick out of reading a book that's been in existence 100+ years--or, in the instance of the Sei Shonagon I just finished, 1000+ years.

Happy weekend. I have a secret to find out. (Okay, I know what it is, (I think)) It's a matter of watching the pieces unravel. Er, they may still be raveling. Will find out.

Project ALA

John Green posted this on his blog--I was rooting for Roger, but Laurie Halse Anderson, she's got skills.

after a cardamom lassi

I wish this summer was more focussed on relaxation and accomplishment than the Great Search for Balance. I don't know where the time goes . . . except I can't stop watching that damn HGTV channel and then feeling like I have an inadequate house.

I told Bruce cable was a bad idea.