Traipsing Along

So yesterday we went on our "birthday adventure" to none other than New York City. We had decided to surprise Emily (and Edward) by taking her to the Central Park Children's Zoo. (We tried to make it there when we visited NYC five years ago, but it was too far and too cold...and we simply ran out of time and energy.)

We didn't give her any clues except to tell her to watch the road signs and look in our mapbook. She figured out part of the trip (the going to NYC part) but didn't get the Children's Zoo part until Stuart suggested that clues can sometimes be "tasty." (I'd made animal cookies to bring along as a snack.)

It was lots of fun to take the PATH train under the Hudson River and the subway to 59th Street to walk through Central Park to the zoo. When all was said and done, we agreed it's our favorite zoo at the moment. (We're hoping to catch the Atlanta Zoo on our next adventure.) And it's amazing that the moment you enter the park, you feel like you've been transported somewhere else. It's SO peaceful.

New York City...straight ahead!



On the PATH train


Stuart and the kids found
a GAI-tronics phone...and
it worked!


Outside a fountain near
Central Park


The clock tower and gate at the Children's Zoo


The polar bear -- swimming in glory


He was SO happy!

Lots of stuff to climb around in and pretend to be:







Feeding the alpacas and sheep:






Crossing the lily pads and the spider's web.


The Carousel -- my favorite-most ride in the world!


And finishing off at the playground.

A great day was had by all...and, in the end, we felt tired...but very happy!

Grounded in Reality

Every year since before Emily and Edward were born, we've done a "birthday adventure." (When I worked at the newspaper, I had to take a vacation day on my birthday. It was company policy. But it was good because it meant that you had to take a break and had to enjoy yourself.) Maybe we wouldn't go anywhere particularly "special," but we'd try to do something fun and out-of-the-ordinary.

Anyway, fast-forward a few years, and we're still doing such adventures.

This year, we surprised Emily (and Edward) and drove to New York City to go to the Central Park Children's Zoo. (We'd tried to get there in 2000 when we visited Santa at Macy's that Christmas. But after walking from 34th Street to 59th Street, we realized we weren't going to make it before it closed...and we gave up and headed to FAO Schwarz to see the giant toy store's stuffed animals instead.)

We parked in Jersey City, N.J., and took the PATH train under the Hudson River. This was a first for both kids (though Emily had been on it before, she didn't remember it at all). And I have to say, though they were very nervous, they really enjoyed themselves.

When I looked on the PATH map, I saw that one line went to the World Trade Center, a.k.a. Ground Zero. We thought it might be interesting to go there on the way back. But without our realizing it, we'd jumped aboard the train going there...

It's hard to imagine what it must have looked like five years ago. They've done a marvelous -- but, no doubt, difficult -- job of rebuilding the station and beginning the foundation of whatever building(s) will replace the Twin Towers. Still, it was haunting to think about it all.

The station wasn't crowded (though we weren't there during any rush hour). But it was all very surreal now. We explained to the kids about what had happened on the very spot we were standing and about the sadness of some of the people.

Then we saw a man going along the fence, looking down into the basement of the foundation and crying. We didn't know if he lost someone on 9/11/01, but Stuart gathered us around and prayed for him -- and all the others who'd lost loved ones on that terrible day.

We kept reminding ourselves to never forget those who died -- their loved ones certainly don't.

"New York is more now than the sum of its people and buildings." ~Peter Conrad

Birthday Buddies

We used this song in our wedding...and while I will always see it as a song I share with my husband, the words were very appropriate to share with our little girl, too. Daddy and I will be here...always!

I Will Be Here

Tomorrow morning if you wake up
and the sun does not appear,
I will be here.
If in the dark, we lose sight of love,
Hold my hand and have no fear
'Cause I will be here.

I will be here
When you feel like being quiet.
When you need to speak your mind,
I will listen.
And I will be here
When the laughter turns to cryin'.
Through the winning, losing and trying,
We'll be together.
I will be here.

Tomorrow morning, if you wake up
And the future is unclear,
I will be here.
Just as sure as seasons were made for change
Our lifetimes were made for these years
So I will be here.

I will be here,
And you can cry on my shoulder.
When the mirror tells us we're older,
I will hold you.
And I will be here
To watch you grow in beauty
And tell you all the things you are to me.
I will be here.

I will be true to the promise I have made
To you and to the One who gave you to me.

Tomorrow morning, if you wake up
And the sun does not appear,
I will be here.
Oh, I will be here.

~Steven Curtis Chapman

Nine years ago today, we had the blessing of welcoming our first child into the world on my birthday. While at the time I thought this might prove awkward....I see it now as such an honor to be "Birthday Buddies!"

Happy Birthday Song

Happy 9th Birthday to my BEST birthday present ever!

We love you, Emily Susanne Foote!

These photos say it all....

Fast Forward....

As I'm sitting here on the eve of our birthday, I'm reminded of being in labor 9 years ago today -- the day before my 27th birthday -- and Stuart suggesting that I could continue in labor all through my birthday and have our firstborn on the 16th.... Good thing I couldn't lift my leg that high, huh?

And it's a good thing pregnancy doesn't happen like this.

Enjoy!

Makes No Scents

So I was doing my weekly trek 'round Wal-mart while the kids were enjoying their once-a-week homeschool learning group. Since I started blogging last Spring, I've begun to look at stuff differently, seeing "blogging" ideas in various places. I guess it's re-energized my writer senses and creative juices. I'm enjoying it quite a bit!

Speaking of senses, reminds me of the various scents I saw while perusing the "air fresheners and candles" aisle: Sunny Laundry (huh?), Crisp Cotton (more...huh?), Angel Whispers.... I was especially laughing at the last one. Angel Whispers. I don't know about you, but when someone whispers to me they don't always have the nicest of breath. Not sure I'd like this scent, though my hubby assured me that, presumably, angels don't have bad breath.

I went to Glade and saw the various scents listed under their "Fragrance Landscape." I've listed them here for your enjoyment:

Suddenly Spring (sounds startling). Refreshing Springs. Berry Burst and Berry Splash (both sound messy). Cranberry Delight and Everlasting Pine (the first one sounds like a dessert). Dewberry Dreams (Confused? So am I). Delicate Petals. Glistening Snow (I've never been able to smell any scent in snow.). Hawaiian Breeze (I've not been to Hawaii, but does it really smell like fruit everywhere you go?). Ocean Blue (salt water, fish, and crab scents?). Vanilla Breeze. Watermelon Rush (Who knew? Is this like the rush you get from drugs?).

Very descriptive....but do we actually think of the names they give to these scents? Some of them just don't make "scents."

Alma-Mater-Mia!

Since I'm in the area of my high school, Wednesday seems to be my Remembrance Day.

So I'm sitting in Wal-Mart, reading The Wall Street Journal and thinking about school days gone by.

I was thinking about graduation. And then about the school song. How many of us actually know the song from our alma mater? I didn't know it until Graduation Day...and that was the only day I knew it. I didn't know the one for my university either...until Graduation Day.

Sad, really.

There was a time when schools took pride in encouraging their students to know such things. They had Glee Clubs and Pep Rallies to promote school pride and excitement at being there. (Remember the cheer "A-W-E-S-O-M-E?") Maybe some schools still do.

For now, I guess I'll keep searching the Internet to find my alma mater's song.

And come up with a song for our homeschooled kids.

Dog-gone Cute!

That's Entertainment!

I'm glad to know that, if nothing else, I'm good for entertainment as far as my kids are concerned.

<--Pumpkin kids 2002

Halloween is a big deal in our house. I'm not really sure why because we certainly do not participate in the meaning of the holiday or celebrate it in any way except the "dressing up" and pumpkin parts.

But for weeks -- nay, months -- preceding this silly day, our kids have been dreaming of what they will wear this year...to go around begging sweets off all the "oohing" and "aahing" neighbors.

The selections change daily...sometimes hourly. And vary from completely corny to completely impossible to make.

So I decided to let them in on the secret memory of when I dressed as a peanut. I was about 10 or 11, and it was probably my dumbest costume ever...and I wore it. I took a paperbag and cut a hole in the top and armholes in the sides. Then I slipped it over my head and tied it in the middle with a piece of yarn. Wah-lah! An instant "walking, talking peanut," to quote my son.

Both kids cannot stop laughing at the vision of me dressed like this...

Oh, well. Cheap entertainment...at my expense.

Restless Tootsies

Monday's child is fair of face.
Tuesday's child is full of grace.
Wednesday's child is full of woe.
Thursday's child has far to go.
Friday's child is loving and giving.
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day
Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.

I'm feeling a certain restlessness in my feet. A certain "ants in my pants" kinda thing. I get this feeling every now and again....sometimes monthly.

I could blame the above poem and my day of birth....since I "have far to go." Or the full moon. Or a lack of chocolate. Or hormones.

I was listening to a podcast from a radio show down in Atlanta, Ga. (Gotta love today's world where you can listen to just about any radio station through the Internet...certainly easier than when I used to try to pick up BBC World Radio on my little shortwave radio.)

Anyways... I was listening to this show and heard about a certain rock band and the actor who helps promote them throwing a concert/party in Atlanta and viewing a certain movie we happened to catch in New York City last month....and I suddenly thought, "Let's GO!"

It's not far, right? According to Yahoo! Driving Directions, it's a mere 770 miles, approximately 11.5 hours by car.

Okay, so my hubby almost laughed himself off a chair. Being that he's from England, the distance-that-doesn't-seem-very-far-in-my-mind covers the whole of his fair island from Cornwall nearly to Scotland.

But the adventure! I was thinking how we basically "land lock" ourselves with worrying about distances to places. We travel over 9 hours to go to the beach. Okay, so we stay for a week...

Well, I guess I'd best hide my car keys....and have a piece of chocolate.

More on Aging....

* * *

Well, it's nearly official. I'll soon be "twice-18."

We were looking at a list of concerts and saw that the age to attend many of them was "18+" on the guide.

My hubby said, "Well, we're over 18, so we can go."

"Yes," I said. "We're two times 18."

Egads! That sounds old, huh? But it does make me laugh.

I recently saw my grandmother. She's 85 now. She said she feels 21 in her mind -- but 101 in her body.

I guess that's how we all feel. So much younger in our minds.

I passed -- as I usually do on Wednesdays -- my high school, and I had this uncontrollable urge to drive around the parking lot and see it again. I didn't do it, but in my head I could visualize all the memories I made while attending there. It's hard to explain this to younger students. I graduated nearly 20 years ago....before most of them were even born!

Okay, so I'm not 21 anymore....but can I really be nearly twice-18?

Sigh.

Brain Fuzz

My brain is full of fuzz these days. You know, like the lint you take out of the dryer. My cranium is cluttered to the max. I wish I had a "lint catcher" in my head. Certainly would help.

Not sure why I feel this way. I can blame all sorts of things...disorganization, lack of sleep, too much to do, hormones. But that doesn't solve the problem.

The world is spinning and carrying me with it. Like the merry-go-round at the park.

Even though I worked for a few years completely immersed in the news world, as a rule, I avoid current events now. Not to take the ostrich approach and ignore the world around me (in the hopes that all the bad news will go away -- though that would be nice) but because I seem to internalize everything I read. It ends up with the other bits of brain clutter and fills up my already too-full head. (I wish there was a mental-trash day -- you could just stick it all on your forehead, and someone would come 'round once a week and pick it up to take to the mental-dump...)

I truly believe that "no man is an island." Perhaps that's why I "take on" the news I read. I think of what it might feel like to be in that person's shoes, or something similar.

The deaths of those five little Amish girls have been in my mind and on my heart quite a bit lately. My daughter will be 9 in less than two weeks. I was hanging laundry outside this morning, thinking about how the mothers of those girls would be washing their clothes for the last time, remembering memories from the summertime or even just a few days preceding their deaths. They'd hear their giggles and see their sweet smiles just before their last goodnight kiss.

I believe that everything happens for a reason. Nothing by accident. But my bursting brain can't even begin to fathom those mothers' feelings....

No Contest

My daughter asked me the other day if I'd ever won a competition with my writing, and it brought back the memory of the one and only contest I'd ever entered....and the ironically laughable results.

I met a boy in 8th grade that I liked very much. We both had math together with Mr. Magee who looked a lot like a skinny version of Walter Mathau with a moustache. He wasn't very interesting -- as I recollect -- well, at least not as interesting as this boy who sat next to me and cracked funny jokes.

Anyways, I digress....

We began to like each other very much. He liked to draw, and I, of course, liked to write. I had dreams of us as a couple, writing and illustrating our own children's books. We "hung out" a lot after that....

Fast forward to 10th grade English class and the aforementioned short-story writing contest. By this point, we couldn't stand one another. He'd forgotten my birthday -- very unromantically especially given the fact that his birthday was a mere 16 days later -- and he'd compared his love for me with that of his love for a rhinoceros. (He struggled with grace.)

I entered a short story about a girl who wouldn't date a kid who'd been injured after doing something wrong...or something like that. I was really proud of that story. All my friends insisted that I'd get first place. I tried not to get my hopes up, but I knew it was "good." (*clearing throat* Pride comes before a fall???)

The results?

I got SECOND Place. I was thrilled because I'd at least won a prize. It was quite an honor, especially because it was published in the school newspaper.

The irony?

The boy-I'd-liked-and-then-hated got FIRST place! I felt cheated only in that he knew how much I was hoping to win...and how much I liked writing. He was a cartoonist, for goodness sake. I felt like Anne of Green Gables did when she was bested by Gilbert Blythe.

It didn't really matter in the big scheme of things. My pride was injured more than my feelings. We continued to "hate" each other through the end of high school, and about a year later I wrote a letter apologizing for my part in our "friendship" breaking up.

Today, we keep in touch as old friends do.

And if I ever reminded him of that story, I'm sure he would laugh about it now....I know I do.

Merlinders, Unite!

This was sent to me by my dear friend and fellow Marylander, Aduladi'. Many of these don't really apply to me since I'm more Pennsylvanian now...but they're still fun! Enjoy!

You know you're from Maryland when...

You know more than 10 people who own boats, all at the same marina in Solomons.

You can pronounce and spell "Pocomoke," "Mattaponi," "Accokeek," "Havre de Grace" and "Silopanna" (Annapolis backwards).

You pronounce "Bowie" BOO-ee. Not BOW-ee. Or BAUW-ee.

One hour is a good commute to work.

You have more than three recipes for crab cakes.

Every kitchen has Old Bay and French fries just don't taste right without it.

There are more than two crab places in your town.

You got your first fishing rod or lacrosse stick before you were six years old.

You call all turtles "terrapins."

You refer to your state as "Merlind."

Your mother shops at Hecht's.

You still call Six Flags America "Adventure World" or even "Wild World."

You have fond memories of concerts at the Capital Center.

You still remember the Wild World commercial (Wild World's the cure for the summertime blues!).

You can tell the difference between the smells of septic and marsh.

You not only know how to eat hard crabs but also know how to catch them, cook them and tell the males from the females.

You don't think that Assawoman Bay is a strange name for a body of water.

You know perfectly well why Rehoboth is called "Little San Francisco."

M R Ducks makes perfect sense. So does C M Wags.

You think Salisbury is a big city.

You think of dumplings as wet slippery squares of boiled dough.

You and your boss take off of work when the fish are running.

You think of "Dairy Queen" as a pageant title and not a place to get ice cream.

"Formal wear" is a ball cap, a flannel shirt, and Timberland boots.

You still root for the Orioles even when they stink.

You'll never understand why tourists come to D.C.

When in Florida, you can only laugh when you see signs saying, "Real Maryland Blue Crab Cakes!"

You color with "Crowns" (crayons), take a "Share" (shower) with "Wooter" (water) and think the president lives in "Warshenton."

You remember when I-270 was a two-lane highway called 70 S, and Gaithersburg was considered the boonies.

Your entire family lives within a 200-mile radius of your town.

At least one man in your family is a waterman ... or an attorney.

You plan for "The Festival" a year in advance.

During the summer, you spend more time in Ocean City than at home.

Your radio dial is stuck on 99.1 even though it is Spanish now.

You know where Perdue chicken comes from.

When someone says "The bridge traffic is bad," you know which bridge.

You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from Maryland.

So What Is It??

The bus transportation company in our local city, BARTA, has the following motto painted on the side of their buses: "More Than a Ride."

*smile*

I'm still not sure what to make of it...but it certainly stimulates the imagination.

Is it a house on wheels? A rolling social club? An overgrown car? Anyone? Anyone?

* * *

How to Ride BARTA (I thought these were very helpful...though maybe a bit obvious? I know some people need stuff spelled out in basic details, but....)

Here are some tips on how to ride the BARTA Bus System.

1. If you are a new rider or will be taking the bus to a new destination, get the information you will need before you begin your trip. Bus schedules are available here, at most libraries, city halls, the Chamber of Commerce, hospitals, and many stores and businesses throughout Berks County.

2. After checking the schedule and locating your route and the times you want to travel, stand at the bus stop. (Hmmm...that would be helpful, huh?) BARTA bus stops are marked with posted bus stop signs. If there is not a posted bus stop near the area in which you want to board along the route, go to the nearest intersection and wait on the same side of the street in which the bus is traveling. Always try to be at the bus stop several minutes early.

3. Stand where the driver can see you. If you're inside a bus shelter, step outside once you see your bus approaching. Otherwise, it is helpful to wave at the driver as the bus approaches to indicate that you would like to board the bus. (Wave nicely, though...no rude gestures.)

4. Read the bus destination signs before boarding. BARTA buses are marked with both the names and numbers of the routes they serve. They are located on the front of the bus, as well as to the right of the front door.

5. Please wait to get on the bus until all riders wishing to get off have done so. If several riders are getting on the same bus, please form a line to speed boarding.

6. Have the exact fare, your BARTA Pass or your Ten-Trip Ticket ready when you board. Stopping to count change or find you pass or ticket can delay other riders who are waiting to get on or off the bus.

7. If you are purchasing a One-Day-Anywhere Pass onboard the bus, YOU MUST TELL THE DRIVER BEFORE YOU INSERT THE MONEY INTO THE FAREBOX! (Not sure why they have this bold-faced....must be for emphasis?)

8. Have your children ready to board and your stroller folded before the bus pulls up.

9. When you approach your destination, remember to pull the chime cord located above the window area, about one block before your bus stop. If another rider has rung the bell, a sign will light up behind the driver stating "STOP REQUESTED". It is not necessary to ring the bell again. (But if you want to annoy the driver, then go ahead.)

10. If, while traveling on route, you have passed out of the base zone, a 20-cent zone fare should be deposited in the fare box upon leaving the bus. (Please see individual schedules for zone locations.)

11. Wait until the bus comes to a complete stop before deboarding. (Very useful!)

12. If you plan on changing buses to complete your trip, pay your 25-cent transfer fare, along with your base fare, when you board your first bus and ask the driver for a transfer. BARTA Pass holders do not need to purchase transfers. Passengers transferring to another bus must take the first bus available for the transfer. All transfers must be made to buses traveling in the same direction. A transfer may not be used to make a return trip. When you change buses, insert the transfer into the farebox in the second bus.

13. When the route is busy, please use the rear doors to get off. (But be sure to follow #11 first.)

Where Your Heart Is

I was born in a hospital in Wheaton, Maryland, just outside the city of Silver Spring. I spent nearly a year in that fair city before moving to Greensburg, Pennsylvania. About three and a half years later, we moved back to Maryland to a neighborhood just outside of Annapolis, where we stayed for almost four years. Then it was off to Folsom, California, for a few years and back to Pennsylvania.

Why does the history of my moves matter in my mind? Because I have always considered myself a "Marylander"....even though I spent less than five years of my entire life there.

When we cross through it on our way to and from Nags Head, N.C., each year I feel a sense of kinship and warmth that fills my soul. Odd really, for someone who spent a fraction of her life in such a place. But I will be a Baltimore Orioles fan until I die. And I will always smile in camaraderie when I hear of someone else who was born there.

It's funny because I felt the same way about England...and I spent an even smaller portion of my life there.

When we went to visit Scotland, I felt myself sighing with relief when we crossed the border back into England on the train. It wasn't that I didn't like Scotland -- it was a gorgeous place filled with quite a lot of my heritage. But I guess I'd adopted England in my heart as my "home" at the time. I felt myself becoming like a sponge, trying to soak up as much of the history and customs of the country as I could.

And pending the fact that some of my ancestry hailed from England, there's a certain kindred-spiritedness in all the famous writers England has "birthed" merely because of the aura of the place.

I discovered the poem below in my AP English class in 11th grade. My teacher was a huge fan of England. She had the first sentence on a bulletin board at the back of her classroom. I liked the poem very much the first time I read it, but it became much more poignant after my teacher passed away from cancer mid-year. We didn't even know she was sick...though she knew she was dying. It had been her dream to visit that fair country someday.

I took my first trip to England with Teen Missions the summer after she died. I thought of her a lot while I was there. I thought of her even more when I moved there a year and a half later.

This poem became my mantra while I was there. I guess, like the saying goes, "home" isn't necessarily where you live or were born...it's where your heart is.

The Soldier

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

~Rupert Brooke, 1914

Pussycat, Pussycat, Where Have You Been?

* * *

"Pussycat, pussycat, where have you been?

I've been to London to visit the Queen.

Pussycat, pussycat, what have you there?

I frightened the little mouse under the chair."

* * *

Abigail, our 10-year-old Maine Coon cat, spent the morning at the "beauty parlor" getting a "lion cut." She'd become very matted and wasn't very patient about being combed out.

Here are before and after photos:

We've since ditched the cute, little, yellow-with-autumn-leaf bows. The dog was pestering her, trying to get a better look. (I think inwardly he was snickering at her. His day will come.)

So....

"Pussycat, pussycat, where have you been?
I've been to the groomer...see what I mean?
Pussycat, pussycat, what have you there?
I've had all my hair cut off and look like Fuzzy-Wuzzy-Bear."

To Coin a Phrase

I love to "coin" new words and phrases. (A process called neologism.) I remember when I first learned about that expression. I wasn't sure what it meant, but it's gives a very vivid picture now.

Words like:
blog -- used as a noun or verb -- as in, short for weblog, or the act of writing an entry in a weblog
library -- used as a verb -- as in, "We're librarying today. Would you like to join us?"
porch -- used as a verb -- as in, "Let's porch tonight. We'll bring the games; you have the snacks."
donuthole -- used as a noun -- as in, "He is such a donuthole (has a head that soft and squooshy with a hole in the middle)."
sunsetty -- used as an adjective -- as in, "More sunsetty goodness..." (See TV Guy.)
cubemunity -- used as a noun -- as in, see Squid on the Grill.
idle grass -- used as an expression -- as in, "I digress."
text -- used as a verb -- as in, send a text message via your cellphone
prairie dog -- used as a verb -- as in, pop your head above your cubicle wall to see what's going on; see also, being nosy.

I have a British friend who works for the company that produces the Oxford English Dictionary. Her job is to check usage to see how a word is evolving. Has it been accepted? Is it still used? How is it used? She uses that information to decide what the ranking of the word will be: archaic, obsolete, slang, etc.

In all truthiness, that would be a brillig job for me...to coin a phrase! D'oh!

Check out these other fun sites for more "coined words/phrases":
Jabberwocky
Sniglets
More Sniglets

You've (Not) Got a Friend in...Jack

You've got a friend in me?

Okay, so I just finished watching Season 4 of 24 again...and I've come to several conclusions: If Jack Bauer promises to get you help, do NOT believe him -- try to find a way to dial 911 for yourself -- and I'm very happy I live on the East Coast, over 3,000 miles away from Jack Bauer.

Don't get me wrong. I know he's a hero and saves lots of people and all, but if you aren't on his Top 5 List, you're toast. He's more interested in saving the millions than little ol' you...especially if you have information pertinent to his investigation.

It makes me wonder if you'd really want him on your side....but then I wouldn't want to be enemies with him either. So any way you look at it, I'm VERY GLAD to live so far away from him.

Yeah, yeah, I know. It's all determined by a script. But sometimes you think about heroic people out in the "real world" and wonder, if push comes to shove, will they really save you?

...Especially if you have the necessary jumpdrive in your jeans pocket to download information on finding the bad guy in the next 60 minutes thus saving the world from a nuclear holocaust....

Run away! Run away VERY fast...and remember to duck or wear your bulletproof vest.

Still Still Still More from Hell-ish Kitchens

Thinking about all this running away from Jack Bauer got me feeling hungry, and somehow this little beauty of a recipe made its way into my computer inbox. I've not made it before but, judging by the ingredients, I'd say it sounds yummy!

Enjoy!



Chocolate Orange Blossom Delicacies

Estimated Times: Preparation - 20 min Cooking - 45 min - Yields - 40 bars

Ingredients
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup finely chopped walnuts
1 cup (2 sticks) cold butter
1 large egg, beaten
1 1/2 cups orange marmalade
1 cup (6 oz.) NESTLÉ® TOLL HOUSE® Premier White Morsels
1 cup (6 oz.) NESTLÉ® TOLL HOUSE® Semi-Sweet Chocolate Morsels

Directions: PREHEAT oven to 350° F. Grease 13 x 9-inch baking pan. COMBINE flour, sugar and walnuts in large bowl. Cut in butter and egg with pastry blender, or two knives, until mixture is crumbly. Reserve 1 1/2 cups of the crumb mixture. Press remaining crumb mixture into prepared pan. Spread marmalade evenly over crumb mixture in pan, leaving 1/2-inch border. Sprinkle white morsels and semi-sweet morsels evenly over the marmalade. Sprinkle reserved crumb mixture evenly over the morsels. BAKE for 45 to 50 minutes or until top is light brown. Cool completely in pan on wire rack. Cut into bars.

Welcome Break!

I spent Friday evening with a dear friend and fellow homeschooling mom (Aduladi'), having a very welcome, much-needed "mom-teacher" break. We decided to dig out some of the ol' favorites movie-wise and share them with each other.

So she brought one of her favorite Esai Morales movies, La Bamba, and I picked one of my favorite Kiefer Sutherland movies, Flatliners, and we sat with a table full of snacks and enjoyed some of our past with two of our favorite actors.

What's fun about watching older movies is the memories that they conjure up. Maybe they weren't the best movies in terms of production or continuity, but they have "history" in them. They encompass a certain time in our lives and perserve that in a big-screen form. The "remember-whens" and fashions and lingo of a time gone by. Sharing that with each other makes it even more poignant.

The movies ended, and we chatted on into the night. By the time my hubby got home from the "movie-night exchange" (he went to watch "guy" movies with her hubby), we didn't even realize the time was nearly 1 a.m. Amazingly, we didn't even feel tired.

Movies and memories....a much-needed and very-welcome break!

(Thanks, Angel!)

Solace-Powered

Today's word of the day:

solace \SOL-is\, noun: 1. Comfort in time of grief; alleviation of grief or anxiety. 2. That which relieves in distress; that which cheers or consoles; a source of relief.

transitive verb: 1. To comfort or cheer in grief or affliction; to console. 2. To allay; to soothe; as, "to solace grief."

Surrounded by unhappiness at home, John Sr. early on found solace and certainty in the realm of science and technology.-- Sylvia Nasar, A Beautiful Mind

Lillian's Lutheranism, with its harsh creed that suffering was a sign of God's favor, solaced her.-- Lois W. Banner, Finding Fran

Solace comes from Latin solacium, from solari, "to comfort; to console."

***

Well, that sums it up for me. Tuesday was a day of infamy here at our house. A day of much-needed solace. It was the day that all of us (excluding Stuart) had our dental appointments.

I don't know about you, but I can't stand going to the dentist. In fact, I hate going to the dentist. There's nothing fun about paying $80+ to have your teeth pushed, prodded, and scraped. I know, I know. The alternative is to borrow George Washington's "wooden" smile for awhile. I don't know...perhaps it would be worth it?

Okay, so this particular visit was "infamous" for two reasons. I'd managed to push off my whole-mouth X-rays with a "fiblette" about possibly being pregnant last time (well, there was a possibility), and it was Edward's first official time having his teeth cleaned and examined.

No problemo, right?

Do you ever wonder why the hygentist insists on chatting and asking questions while she has three instruments and a spit-sucker in your mouth? And where are you supposed to put your tongue?? My tongue feels so confused during a dental cleaning because it always seems to be in the way. And why, when you open your mouth bigger for them to get the 563+ cleaning tools in, do your lips get smaller? Perplexing, really.

Well, the full-mouth X-rays were horrific. (I love that word!) Besides digging into my already-sore mouth (darn hormones!), they kept triggering my gag-reflex (darn hormones!). And there were about 15 of them.

But first came Edward's own time in the chair...

Emily has always been our social butterfly, floating into any social scene and settling herself happily. Edward is the antithesis of "social" -- though not in a mean way. He just doesn't do well in new, social settings...and the dentist's office was no exception.

I'm a bad parent....a very bad parent. Remember all the things you declared you'd NEVER do when you had kids before you had 'em? Okay, okay. So after threatening bodily harm to his cushy tushy if he didn't behave, I realized that might not be the right approach for my little shy guy....so I...

....bribed him. For a $1.97-plus-tax Matchbox helicopter, I got my 5-year-old to sit and have his teeth cleaned and counted. In fact, by the end of my time-in-the-chair which followed his, he was getting rather obnoxious with friendliness.

Call it solace.

Now where was mine?

I'm Lovin' It!

***

In the wake of the new season of Fall shows, we remember....

only FOUR, count 'em, FOUR more months!!!!!

And, in the meantime, I'd love one of these!

(Do you think it includes a Jack Bauer? Or is he sold separately?)

Have Bunny, Will Travel

Anyone who has known me for awhile will know that I'm "rabbit-mad." Not that I'm not crazy about other stuff. We have six Himilayan Dwarf rabbits at the moment. Bonny and Clyde are the parents of two sets of twins: Bubble and Squeak; and Earl Grey and Clementine.

I've been raising rabbits since I was 11 and have always had at least one "sweet bun" around.

Lately, I've been stuck in a memory of my favorite little bunny, Peepers. She was my well-traveled, very spoiled, well-loved British bunny. I had her for about 5.5 years. I always joked that she needed an odometer on her because she traveled at least 5,000 miles in her lifetime, much of it in a straw African bag while aboard a train...not sure what British Rail's policy was for bunny ticketing.

One particular story that I recounted to someone recently was a trip I made through London at rush hour on a Friday.

I was trying to get back to Swindon from Brighton (see this: British Rail Map). I had a small animal carrier, a laptop computer, and a small piece of luggage....and I went from Brighton to Victoria Station through the London Underground to Paddington Station and then on to Swindon. Inside the pet carrier was Peepers, my ever-trusting, ever-faithful rabbit, and Hobnob, a little Russian Dwarf hamster in her own little crate.

All was going well, until I realized I was traveling at rush hour with three "bags," so to speak, and I was getting on a commuter train to Swindon where it was standing room only.

I ended up standing the entire way to Swindon in the bathroom. My crate and bags stacked between my legs. I don't remember how I got to my parents' house from the Swindon trainstation. The smells of the journey had numbed my mind.

And it was a harrowing journey, to say the least.

But one I'll never forget.

Birthday Facts

Birthday Calculator -- Try it!

A friend sent me the above website to try out. It's a fun way of learning about the little chunk of time around the time you were born. Have a go!

My birthday facts (my comments are in parenthesis and italics):

15 October 1970

Your date of conception was on or about 22 January 1970 which was a Thursday. You were born on a Thursday. The Julian calendar date of your birth is 2440874.5. The year 1970 was not a leap year. Your birthday falls into the Chinese year beginning 2/6/1970 and ending 1/26/1971. You were born in the Chinese year of the Dog.

As of 9/14/2006 6:55:27 PM EDT: You are 35 years old. (And as if I don't feel old enough...)
You are 431 months old.
You are 1,874 weeks old.
You are 13,118 days old.
You are 314,850 hours old.
You are 18,891,055 minutes old.
You are 1,133,463,327 seconds old.

Celebrities who share your birthday:
Vanessa Marcil (1969)
Sarah Ferguson (1959)
Emeril Lagasse (1959)
Richard Carpenter (1946)
Jim Palmer (1945)
Penny Marshall (1942)
Linda Lavin (1937)
Lee Iacocca (1924)
Mario Puzo (1920)
Arthur Schlesinger, Jr. (1917)
John Kenneth Galbraith (1908)

Top songs of 1970:
Bridge Over Troubled Water by Simon & Garfunkel
I'll Be There by Jackson Five
Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head by B.J. Thomas
Close to You by Carpenters
My Sweet Lord by George Harrison
I Think I Love You by Partridge Family
Ain't No Mountain High Enough by Diana Ross
American Woman by Guess Who
War by Edwin Starr
Let It Be by Beatles

Your age is the equivalent of a dog that is 5.13424657534247 years old. (You're still chasing cats!) (Wooo-Hooo!)

There are 31 days till your next birthday on which your cake will have 36 candles (or 2...a "3" and a "6"). Those 36 candles produce 36 BTUs, or 9,072 calories of heat (that's only 9.0720 food calories!). You can boil 4.11 US ounces of water with that many candles.

In 1970, there were approximately 3.7 million births in the U.S. In 1970, the U.S. population was approximately 203,302,031 people, 57.4 persons per square mile. In 1970, in the U.S. there were approximately 2,158,802 marriages (10.6%) and 708,000 divorces (3.5%). In 1970, in the U.S. there were approximately 1,921,000 deaths (9.5 per 1000)

Your birth tree is Maple, which symbolizes "Independence of Mind." Personality traits: No ordinary person, full imagination and originality, shy and reserved, ambitious, proud, self-respect, hungers for new experiences, sometimes nervous, many complexes, good memory, learns easily, complicated love life, wants to impress.

The moon's phase on the day you were born was full. (That explains A LOT.)

On Aging...

So I had to revisit an earlier blog entry to see when I last dyed my hair....the silver highlights were becoming more noticable, and I wondered if it was getting to be time. And I guess it was....

I bought another two boxes of hair dye (my hair is getting too long for one box), but I was loathe to try it because it always takes so long....and I'd chosen a lighter shade this time. I was concerned...Will I appear to have the soft, subtle "dark ash blonde" of the model on the box...or will my hair end up red? Always a quandry.

See, guys don't have this problem. They go gray and deal with it. They think, "Am I getting older? Oh, well." Women...we just want to preserve some of our youthfulness by keeping our original haircolor. I've seen women in their 80s with sagging faces and baggy eyes, but hair the color they were born with.

In a recent chat with another blogger (see Had It All), we both concluded that even though we're only in our mid-thirties...we're still looked on as being "older," or or even (eek!) "aging." Now, if a child of under-10 said that, I'd understand. Anyone above 15 is old to them. But she was told by her own doctor that "at her age" she could expect.... What??!?

Anyway, I decided to "take the plunge," so to speak, and I dyed my hair before our trip to New York City last Saturday. (I know, I know....risky. But I figured I could always re-dye it if necessary. I had to do that last year when I made an orange patchwork quilt in my hair from trying to add blonde streaks...) It worked out in the end and actually looked fairly good...until we sat in traffic for 1.5 hours and then had to wait another 2.5 hours for the movie. (I'd used my spiral curling iron to make lots of long curls and had it down -- pulled back by my sunglasses -- which is a rarity for me since it usually drives me crazy within seconds. But by the time we met Kiefer Sutherland, I'd reached "crazy" and pulled it up. Oh, well. So much for glamorous!)

At least I'm "highlight-free"...for now.

The City That Never Sleeps

So we traveled to New York City last Saturday (see this for the reason)...

We headed up to Rt. 78 and took it clear across Pennsylvania into New Jersey to the N.J. turnpike, which took us to the...New York City skyline and...the Holland Tunnel.

(Okay, this wasn't my first time going to New York -- not that I go there very often -- but I still felt excited at the idea of going to such a big, famous city. (I loved living close to London for the same reason.) I think Stuart did, too. I always belt out the "New York, New York" song.)

But at this point in our journey, we ceased to be "excited" and began to feel annoyed when we started to crawl. I'm serious. A baby could have crawled faster than our car was moving. And if we didn't glue our bumper to the bumper of the car in front of us, four cars would try to cut in. We saw tons of people who obviously failed the kindergarten lessons on "following directions" and "waiting their turn."

After nearly an hour and a half of crawling through about 5 blocks, we saw the problem: 7 lanes merging into 2. Yikes! We did manage to finally get to the toll booth and through the tunnel. Now came the fun of navigating through Brooklyn to East Village and the cinema, using our trusty Mapquest directions. (Where's Chloe from 24 when you need her? I would have loved to have her download directions to my PDA...of course, I'd need a PDA first.)

Actually, we didn't have any problems. (Stuart is a seasoned New York driver, having had to go there on various occasions with his job.) We headed up East Houston (pronounced "house-ton" -- yes, well, we have a Greenwich Street in Reading, pronounce "green-wich") Street, and there it was: Landmark's Sunshine Cinema.

(I felt my stomach lurch. Would we actually meet Kiefer??)

We parked about two blocks past the theatre and walked back. I felt more and more like a "country mouse." I love cities. I love the smells from all the different restaurants and cafes. I love the noise of the cars and people. I love the architecture -- some of which you only notice if you look up. But I have to say it's very easy to be over-stimulated by it all and feel a bit out of your element. I'd been looking forward to this moment for several weeks, and now it was finally here. And all I really needed and wanted was....a bathroom! LOL!

The theatre was really cool inside. There were three levels, with a cafe setup on the third level, overlooking the street and the cinema's sign. We got an iced latte, a dark chocolate Toblerone, and gourmet popcorn. Not your traditional cinema snacks.

But, wowzers! Doesn't anyone in New York ever sleep?? We came out of our 10 p.m. movie around midnight and the streets were more crowded than when we'd first arrived around 7:30 p.m.

Amazing!

We navigated out of the city, enjoying the sounds and sights of the NYC nightlife, and got home around 3:30 a.m., thoroughly exhausted, yet exhilarated from having actually met -- really touched and talked to, live in-person -- a favorite actor.

* * *

We're still pinching ourselves...