A Year of Blogging: July 31, 2011

July 31 is 'Mutt's Day'. As in, a dog with more than one breed in its' ancestry. I know people who own mutts and who argue passionately that they are better dogs than purebreds. I am a mom to two purebred beagles, but I don't get into this argument. We chose to have purebreds, but we have both said that next time we want a dog, we will likely go to the shelter. Of course, we would still be looking for a beagle, but a beagle mix would be loved just as much as the purebreds. In recent years, dogs we previously considered mutts have become cool. Goldendoodles (crosses of Golden Retrievers and Poodles), Labradoodles (a mix of Labrador Retrievers and Poodles), Cockapoos (Cocker Spaniels and Poodles) and Puggles (Pug/Beagle mix) have become the trendy dogs. People pay a lot of money for these special breeds. And I think they would be very offended if you called their dog a mutt! I think it doesn't matter if your dog is a mutt or a purebred. Dogs bring so much into our lives: laughter, happiness, companionship. I couldn't imagine my life without my dogs. Ok, sure, when they start barking at 8am on a Saturday morning when I'm trying to sleep in, I get a little cranky. But when I come downstairs and am met with wagging tales and faces that are always happy to see me, they are forgiven. There is nothing like coming home after a rotten day, and being greeted at the door by Onyx carrying one of her toys. When she gets very excited, she makes a trilling sound as she holds her toy, and it is the cutest thing. Everything bad that happened just melts away, and when I sit down on the couch, I have a lapdog on each side. The rest of it is small stuff. What's important is being surrounded by those who love you- even if they are furry and have four legs!

A Year of Blogging: July 30, 2011

July 30 is 'National Cheesecake Day'. It's a great way to follow National Lasagna Day. Yesterday was dinner, today is dessert. In my opinion, it seems you either like cheesecake or you dislike it. I don't know anyone who sits the fence on this. For instance, my father and sister dislike it. You could make a cheesecake that tastes like their favorite ice cream covered in Hershey's syrup, and they would not eat it because it is cheesecake. If we are at a restaurant and the server is telling us the dessert specials, if the word 'cheesecake' is uttered, my father and sister turn up their nose. The rest of us tune in. Cheesecake is Grandpa Primeau's favorite dessert. His preference is the traditional cheesecake with cherries on top. I remember Mom making him a cherry cheesecake every year for his birthday. If we were going to Grandma's for any family gathering, Mom always made a cherry cheesecake so Grandpa would have his favorite dessert. Mom and I like cheesecake. I like almost all kinds, except just plain cheesecake. If it's plain, it should have something on it- like cherries or strawberries. Now that The Cheesecake Factory is expanding across the country, we have the pleasure of tasting all sorts of cheesecakes. I know you will be shocked to learn my favorite is the Godiva Chocolate Cheesecake. Really? The chocoholic likes the Godiva cheesecake? But a close second is the Dulce de Leche Caramel cheesecake. It's a caramel cheesecake covered with caramel mousse. It's light and decadent. We have a couple of Cheesecake Factories that are about an hour away, but fortunately Sam's Club also carries the Cheesecake Factory cheesecakes. We buy a sampler box that has the Godiva and the Dulce de Leche for me, and a raspberry one for Erich. Although don't let him fool you, he likes the Godiva and Dulce de Leche too!

A Year of Blogging: July 29, 2011

July 29 was 'National Lasagna Day'. Lasagna is perhaps my most favorite food. Pasta, meat, and delicious melted cheese. It is comforting. It's also filling, and better yet- it's a dish you can cook one night and eat on for at least two. Unlike most leftovers which end up tasting kind of rubbery or bland the next day, lasagna tastes better on the second day once all the flavors have had a chance to marry (I learned that term on The Food Network!). If I weren't the family historian, I would swear we were Italian. Or had an Italian link somewhere in the tree. But Italy seems to be one of the few countries in Europe that my ancestors did not hail from. My brother-in-law has some Italian roots, but he's a relative newcomer to the family. Mom made a lot of Italian dishes. We had spaghetti and meatballs (my mother makes the BEST meatballs- they are close to the size of a tennis ball), baked ziti, stuffed shells, and lasagna. Our family loves pasta, meat, and cheese. Italian restaurants have always been among our favorites, right up there with a good steak place. If Mom or my sister (and sometimes the Aunts) see someone who they think is too thin, their first words are 'Eat something!' Before Dad's hair turned white, he had jet black hair and a deep tan; he looked very Italian. Our last name is pronounced Pre-mo, and it has often been mistaken for Italian. It's quite funny, because we are mostly of German descent. Should you find yourself questioning if we are part Italian, you only need to look at our pasta. We buy it at the grocery store, in a box. I have never made pasta in my life, and have no intentions of doing it. Mom makes the homemade meatballs. The pasta comes from a box, the cheese is Kraft and the sauce is Ragu. I love lasagna, but it's a chore to make. Cook the noodles, brown the beef, then layer noodles, beef, cheese, and sauce in a pan. Then you have to bake it for about an hour. You have to start cooking dinner at least 2 hours before you are ready to eat. If you've been following my blog, you know that is just not me. Especially not on a weeknight. I get home from work a little after 5, if I were to start making lasagna when I get home, we wouldn't be eating until well after 7pm. So if I'm going to make lasagna, I usually assemble it on Sunday and put it in the frig. Then we can cook it Monday night and since it's just the two of us, we can eat it for several days. Which means I don't have to cook for a few days! A couple of years ago I stumbled on a recipe for lasagna rolls. You cook the noodles and brown the beef just the same. Then you put the sauce into the beef and let it simmer for a little. You take one noodle, stretch it out, and put some of the beef and sauce mixture down the length of the noodle, top it off with some shredded mozzarella and roll up the noodle. It looks like a lasagna pinwheel. The rolls are then added to the baking dish, covered with sauce and cheese and baked for about 20-30 minutes. It is so much easier than making a full lasagna! This is a dish I can make after work. And it actually has all the cheesy goodness. The only difference really is that it doesn't have the ricotta cheese. When I first made it, Erich referred to it as 'lasagna without the nasty ricotta'. Turns out he doesn't like ricotta, but had been eating my lasagna for 8 years without mentioning it. So now I only make lasagna rolls, and if I want 'real' lasagna, I order it at a restaurant. I'm not sure why Lasagna Day is July 29. It would seem much more appropriate to have it in the middle of winter, than in the middle of summer. I don't eat a lot of Italian food in the summer, because it's so heavy. Plus, heating the oven heats the whole kitchen, and the last thing I want when it's 100* outside is more heat inside! Although, now I could really go for some lasagna...

A Year of Blogging: July 28, 2011

July 28 was 'National Milk Chocolate' Day. I have found we frequently have repeats of days. Earlier this month, we celebrated Chocolate Day. I'm a chocoholic, but I don't think we need to celebrate each type of chocolate separately. Dark, Milk, White, Baking: it can all be celebrated at the same time. There are a couple of notable birthdays on July 28: Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis was born in 1929. Jim Davis (the creator of Garfield) was born in 1945. Beatrix Potter, author of The Tale of Peter Rabbit was born in 1866. July 28 is also the birthday of my new cousin, Emily. Well, I guess she's not a new cousin. She's a couple years younger than me. But we just discovered each other about a month ago. We're actually second cousins- her father and my mother are first cousins. Her grandmother was Grandpa Wager's youngest sister. She married a man from North Carolina, and has lived there since. So Emily is kind of my Dixie cousin, too! We met through Ancestry.com - I've met so many cousins that way, it's almost as interesting as learning I'm related to most of the county where I grew up! When we look to this day in history, in 1868 the 14th Amendment of the US Constitution was adopted. The 14th Amendment guaranteed citizenship and all it's privileges to African-Americans. Yet, 100 years later, the Civil Rights movement fought to gain equal footing for African-American citizens. Sometimes it's easy to forget change doesn't happen overnight. Now a tidbit for my non-US readers. On July 28, 1914 Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia. One month earlier, Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria was killed by a Serbian nationalist. I actually remembered that part from my eighth grade social studies class. And so, on July 28, 1914, World War I started. Until 1939, it was referred to as the World War or the Great War. After WWI, it was thought WWI had been the 'War to End all Wars'. How quickly that changed, and just twenty short years later the world found themselves engaged in another World War. Some generations saw two very devastating wars. As I work on the family history, it is not uncommon to find men who were drafted for both. They were young men (and sometimes boys) for the first one, middle aged or old men in the second. I can't help but think they were extraordinary people.

A Year of Blogging: July 27, 2011

July 27 was 'Take Your Pants for a Walk' Day. This conjures up images of people attaching a leash to their pants and walking them around the neighborhood. If your neighbors thought you were weird before.... But actually, it's a day to get exercise. The idea is you are supposed to be *wearing* your pants when you walk them. If you walk while you are wearing pants, you walk your pants. Shorts and capris also count. There is no record as to who created this day. The person no doubt wished to remain anonymous than face a life of looking over their shoulder for the guys with the white jackets. This just seems to be an absolutely silly day. I guess telling you to walk your pants is more interesting than saying 'go for a walk', but I think the people creating these days have too much time on their hands. And just a reminder- if your pants can walk without you, it's probably time to do laundry!

A Year of Blogging: July 26, 2011

July 26 is Aunts and Uncles Day. Just like I wasn't close to my cousins growing up, I wasn't really close to most of my Aunts and Uncles (dad's siblings). There were so many of them! When we were little, I was probably closest to Dad's youngest brother, Tim. He is Laura's and my Godfather. Uncle Tim was 16 when I was born. We used to take a day trip and visit him in college. He went to Central Connecticut, and was on the football team. Our trip started early in the morning, with Grandma and Grandpa coming to our house. We filled thermoses with cocoa and coffee and soup, packed bags with snacks, and piled all the extra blankets we could find in the car. Then we set off in the pre-dawn darkness for Connecticut. After the game, Uncle Tim took my sister and I around campus. We thought we were big deals! Uncle Tim carried one of us on his shoulders, and a friend carried the other one. I remember meeting lots of girls. Later, when I was older, I realized he'd basically been using us to pick up girls. I was closer to Mom's sister, who is also our Godmother. We used to play dress-up in her clothes. She worked at a bank, so she had a lot of professional clothes: skirts, dresses, and heels. Lots of heels. On rainy afternoons, we went into her closet, put on her clothes and had fashion shows for my grandparents. She never minded. She had a record player in her room, and while we were dressing up in her clothes we put Bruce Springsteen's 'Born in the USA' on her record player and played it over and over and over again. We experimented with her makeup and tried out her jewelry. When we visited in February, we went on whirlwind shopping trips with her and Grandma, and then shipped boxes full of new clothes home via UPS. When I was really little, about 3, I called her at work one day and asked her if I could keep any money I found in her old pocketbooks. She figured I would find a dollar or so, so she said yes. I forget exactly how much I found- but it was quite a sum for a three year old. After that, she learned to clean out her pocketbooks before she put them in storage. She has always had a lot of pocketbooks. She still does. We have gotten closer now that she is back in NY and I can see her more often. We share a love of books and history, and she's about the only person who doesn't mind trekking through cemeteries with me. The Aunts who really influenced me though were actually Great-Aunts. Aunt Hazel lived next door, and she taught me how to knit. She let us work in her leather shop, decorating leather scraps with her fancy stamps and designs. She and Uncle Sid looked out for us when we were outside. Their door was always open. We didn't have to knock, we could just walk in. If they were in the house, Aunt Hazel was usually in the kitchen, and Uncle Sid in the living room sitting in his chair. I can't count the hours we spent at their house, just hanging out. Uncle Sid was like another Grandpa to us. He and Laura were incredibly close. They used to walk the neighborhood together, stopping to chat with everyone. One neighbor, Frank, who had been a great friend of our Grandfathers', had two lawn chairs that he kept in the front of his garage. He would sit there, with the garage door up, watching the comings and goings in town. Frequently, Uncle Sid sat there with him. Before long, Frankie added a smaller version of the same chair, putting it between the two big ones. That was for Laura. She loved sitting there, gossiping with the two old men. The Aunt we spent the most time with was Aunt Vera. Aunt Vera is a great-aunt on Mom's side. She is about 4'9" and always dressed to the nines. Her husband, my Uncle Ernest (Grandma's brother) died when I was four. The only thing I remember about him is that he was tall and very thin. He smoked a pipe. He died suddenly of a heart attack. I remember Mom standing in the kitchen crying as our neighbor tried to comfort her. So for most of my life, Aunt Vera has been a widow. She was widowed young, she was not yet 56 when Uncle Ernest died. Mom always included Aunt Vera in our plans- she invited her for all the holidays, birthdays, and frequently just for Sunday dinner. If we were headed past her house, we stopped to make sure she was ok. Aunt Vera really was another Grandmother to Laura and I. For many years, Aunt Vera remained in the home she had shared with Uncle Ernest. It sat on top of a hill, with sweeping views from the living room overlooking the valley. At the back of the house was a huge family room, with a bar. She had the cups you shake drinks in, and martini glasses. It was very 1960's rat-packish. Laura and I loved to host huge imaginary parties in that room. We were the best hostesses! Every year, Dad's company had a picnic in Connecticut or Massachusetts. Mom and Dad took the weekend and spent the night. Laura and I were sent to Aunt Vera's. We looked forward to that weekend all year, and actually asked Mom and Dad to go away more often so we could go to Aunt Vera's (sometimes she did take us over night, just because). Aunt Vera's grandchildren were teenagers, and at the age that they didn't really want their grandma around. So she happily spent time with us. We went to Bennington to go shopping and to have dinner at McDonalds. In nice weather we also stopped to play miniature golf and to get an ice cream. In colder months, she took us to the museum. When we were pre-teens and teenagers, Aunt Vera came to get us once every couple of weeks and we went off on adventures. Sometimes it was to the amusement park an hour away, other times we went to Manchester, Vermont to ride the alpine slide. The trips to Manchester were the best. We rode the alpine slide until we were worn out, then we went for lunch. Then we stopped at the Jelly Mill, which was an old barn that housed tons of little stores, including a candy store where you could get Jelly Belly jelly beans. After shopping, we stopped to play Mini Golf. We arrived home exhausted, and yet Aunt Vera still had enough energy to go for days. She is a bundle of energy, even now at 86 years old. She looks like a sweet little old lady, but she is a spitfire. When I turned 16, Mom and Dad both tried to teach me to drive. They couldn't do it. Mom and I are so much alike that every time I got behind the wheel we had an argument. Dad got frustrated with me. And then he couldn't give me directions well, which frustrated me. Aunt Vera was down one day for dinner, and Mom and Dad were saying they didn't think I'd ever learn to drive. It was summer, and Aunt Vera said 'I'll teach her'. Mom and Dad tried to dissuade her, but she said 'I can do it'. When Aunt Vera and Uncle Ernest got married, she couldn't drive. When he got sent of to WWII, he taught her to drive so she could keep his logging business and sawmill going. She learned in the matter of a couple of days, and after that, her little frame could maneuver logging trucks, school buses, anything. While she's a bit of a fast driver, she is a very good driver. She even offered to teach me on her Volvo- which was a standard. Mom and Dad didn't want that, so she agreed to teach me in my old beat-up car Mom had bought for me. Aunt Vera worked with me almost every day, all summer long. We got out onto the highway, where the speed limit is 55, and I was doing 20. Sure, it's a rural highway, but people were still blowing past me. Aunt Vera sat in the seat next to me telling me 'don't worry about them, just do what you are comfortable with. Let them go around'. It was a breath of fresh air. Once she knew I had the driving part down, she started working with me on parallel parking. She borrowed some of Dad's five gallon pails and set them up in the church parking lot. She spaced them far enough that you could have parked a semi in that space. My first attempt caused the bucket to get crushed. So she thought about it, went back to the house, and came back with a rake and a broom, and red rags. She set the rake and broom each in a bucket and tied a rag on the top of each. She got in the car, and asked if I could see them. Then she worked with me on parallel parking. I've never mastered it, in fact, I almost failed my driver's test because I was too far away from the curb and the nice DMV lady gave me another try (which by the way, is odd- no one else I have ever known in NY had a lady as the tester or got another try!). Mom still says if it weren't for Aunt Vera, I wouldn't know how to drive. Now that I am an Aunt, these are the things I think about. Someday, I want Drew and Sydney to talk about how much fun Aunt Amy is. I want them to always want to spend time with me, to enjoy coming to my house. I never want them to dread seeing me. My greatest hope is that we will always remain close.

A Year of Blogging: July 25, 2011

July 25 is 'Culinarians Day' . A culinarian is someone who cooks. You don't have to be a chef. Just someone who cooks. Which means it's a day to celebrate all of us who prepare meals. I'm going to go ahead and say that yes, if that preparation is done in the microwave or on the stovetop, it counts. I know a few people who don't actually use their ovens, so I wanted to make sure they were included today. When I was younger, there was a misconception in the family that I could not cook. Cooking did not interest me. Mom usually had the meals prepared ahead of time, and we had to cook them. I was usually too busy doing homework or reading to pay attention, so my family ate a lot of charred meals. When we got old enough, Mom sometimes left it up to us to make dinner one night. When it was my night, everyone knew what we were having- grilled cheese and chicken noodle soup (I didn't like soup, but made it for everyone else). My sister dug out Mom's cookbooks and prepared elaborate meals. She very quickly overtook my skills. If she made dinner, Mom and Dad were delighted. If I made it, there were groans of 'not again!' I didn't mind. They were only stating the truth. I've previously blogged about my Culinary Point of View. I cook because we need to eat to survive. I watch a lot of The Food Network, although I'm not sure why. Most of the things people make don't interest me. For example, if they are using seafood or lamb, I tune out immediately. Anything that requires braising, which takes a while, is also usually off limits. Every once in a while I find inspiration on The Food Network, but even then I usually put my own twist on it. The grilled turkey, swiss, bacon and apple sandwich that has become a favorite was originally a Paula Deen recipe. The original recipe called for a homemade red-pepper mayo. That was too complicated for me. I left it off, and figured if you wanted mayo, you could use Kraft. It has taken quite a while, but the knowledge that I can cook has actually sunk in with my family. I still get teased. Mom was the first to say 'she can cook'. Every now and then, Dad acts surprised that something I made is delicious. Thanks, Dad! And then there's my sister: when I went home for Christmas, 2009; I made Christmas Eve dinner. I made lasagna rolls and a tossed salad. Everyone else willingly dug into the lasagna rolls, but my sister said she would stick with the salad until she saw no one else getting sick. She did eventually eat some of the lasagna, and had to admit it was delicious. I guess little sisters are always little sisters!

A Year of Blogging: July 24, 2011

July 24 is 'Cousins Day'. My family tree is a little lopsided in the cousin area, at least when you talk about first cousins. I have 13 first cousins- all on Dad's side. We are a diverse group. There are 8 girls and 7 boys. The oldest will be 40 next week, and the youngest will be 24 a month later. The oldest six are close in age- 40, 39 (three of them are 39), 38, and 37. Their mothers are all my Dad's sisters, and they have a lot of fond memories of doing things as a group. I'm #7 in order. I am the oldest grandchild with Primeau as their last name. I am two years younger than the youngest of the 'older six'. We weren't close growing up. We lived about 20 minutes away from Grandma and Grandpa, while everyone else lived much closer (except for one Aunt who lived about an hour in the other direction). Twenty minutes doesn't seem like a lot, but there was a big mountain between our house and Grandma's, and people just didn't want to come way out to Berlin. My age also had something to do with the distance between the cousins. When I was three, they were all in elementary school. When I was in elementary school, they were pre-teens. And when I finally caught up and was a pre-teen and not a dorky little kid, they were teenagers. You get the idea. My sister is #8- smack dab in the middle. She is two and a half years younger than me, and we ended up playing together a lot. The last half of the cousins this year celebrate birthdays 31, 30, 29, 28, 26, 25, and 24. So they are kind of close, and always were. We had the same thing with our ages- I was always that much further ahead of them that we didn't have anything in common. Many times, I was their babysitter. For the youngest ones, I have been away for most of their lives. I went to college at age 18, and haven't lived at home (except for a couple of summers) since then. We would have a family party, and I didn't recognize any of them, because they had hit a growth spurt. I relied on my sister a lot at that time, asking her 'which one is that?' (Now that my cousins have children, I've given up. I know a few of them, and the rest, there's not a chance I can keep them straight. I can tell you the names of my cousins' children, but to pick out which child belongs to which cousin, I can't. On the flip side- they don't have a clue who I am either!) I have gotten closer to some of my cousins now that we are adults. The differences in our ages doesn't matter. Not like in the days when I wanted to play with dolls and the older girls wanted to talk about boys. We all have very different lives, and truthfully, Facebook has probably helped us connect a little better. Most still live in NY, a couple of us have ventured away. I live the furthest away. In a group of 15 adults, there are a lot of personalities that do not always mesh well. But I cherish the ones I do get along with. I consider them cousins and friends. One thing I've learned is that in a family our size, there's a good chance someone else will have had a similar experience. When my sister had a miscarriage six years ago, there were several aunts there to offer support from their first-hand experience. When a younger cousin ended an abusive relationship this winter, I was able to tell her 'you're not alone'. It's comforting to know someone else gets you. It's also nice to know someone will always be there if you need them. Of course, you don't have to just celebrate your first cousins today! You can celebrate second cousins, third cousins, fourth cousins twice removed. As I've been working on the family history, I've been contacted by distant cousins on all sides of the family. I enjoy meeting them, and I've even connected with some on Facebook. My life feels more full with my cousins!

A Year of Blogging: July 23, 2011

July 23 is 'Gorgeous Grandma' Day. I have to say, as a child, I don't remember giving much thought to the way either of my Grandmas' looked. I didn't give much thought to Mom's looks either. As I got older, I started noticing how much I looked like Mom, and how much Mom looked like her mother. To be fair, I didn't give a lot of thought to how handsome my Grandfathers had been either. Grandma Wager was about 5'7". Which is actually quite tall for her generation. She was not stick thin, but she had some curves. Once she moved to Florida, her skin was perpetually tanned a deep bronze. She washed her hair a couple times a week and set it with rollers and pins to give it some curl. Grandma cleaned the house constantly. She smelled like a combination of Lestoil and Clorox. When she got dressed up, those familiar scents mixed with Knowing- which was the perfume she wore. Grandma Primeau looked like a Grandma. Or at least a Grandma whose ancestors were German. She was short and kind of round. I think she was only about 5'5". I could be wrong. It seems like I was always taller than her. When we were teenagers, Grandma got out a photo album and we were looking at pictures. There was a wedding photo of a tall thin man, and a beautiful girl with glasses. My cousins and I asked her 'who's that?' and she said 'That's Grandpa and I'. We were shocked. Grandma looked so different before she had 10 children! Now that I've become the official family historian, and inherited pictures of my Grandparents as young people, I can see both Grandmothers were in fact, beautiful young women. This picture on the left is my Grandma Wager. I don't know how old she was in this picture, but I guess she was in her late teens or early twenties. I was so used to her as Grandma, and looking the way I knew her, that I didn't recognize her in this picture. Mom had to tell me who it was. I found a picture of Grandma standing, and my first thought was 'I have her legs'. Grandpa Wager said he fell in love with her the first time he saw her. She said she fell in love with him at first sight also, but she wouldn't go out with him until he bought a car. She went to dances with guys who had cars, and then danced all night with Grandpa. Once he had a car, it was all over! The woman on the right is my Grandmother Primeau. She was a teenager in this picture. She kind of looks like a southern belle, which is hilarious because she was from Upstate NY. Grandpa Primeau was home after WWII when he saw her at a dance. Someone bet him a bottle of beer that he couldn't take her home. The person who placed the bet knew my Great-Grandfather, and thought Grandma wouldn't go with a strange boy. Grandpa won the bet. They were married two weeks after her 18th birthday. Grandpa said she was the pretty farm girl. I've always thought both Grandmothers were exceptional women, which made them beautiful to me, and finding their pictures showed that they were beautiful inside and out.

A Year of Blogging: July 22, 2011

July 22 was 'Hammock Day'. I have to confess, I've never figured out hammocks. The few times I've tried to get in one, I end up falling out the other side, tangled in the hammock and the strings tying it to the trees. I guess it goes back to my old problem of lacking gracefulness. Hammock Day falls in the middle of the Dog Days of Summer. The Dog Days of Summer are July 3-August 11. Which is pretty much all of summer, except for a couple weeks at the beginning and about six weeks at the end. The Dog Days of Summer are typically the hottest and muggiest days of the summer. But why are they called 'Dog Days'? Is it because we all run around panting from the heat like dogs? It turns out, the term is connected with the stars. Among the constellations is Canis Major (the big dog) which includes the star Sirius. Sirius is the brightest star in the night sky. In the summer, Sirius rises and sets with the sun. Ancient cultures believed the heat of Sirius added to the heat from the sun and created the stretch of hot days. And so, they named this period the 'dog days' because Sirius is the Dog Star. So now you know. If you don't have a hammock to relax in, it's ok. Pull up a lawn chair- or better yet, if it's hot stay inside where it's cooler. And just relax.

A Year of Blogging: July 21, 2011

July 21 was 'National Junk Food Day'. Although, apparently it shouldn't really be a 'national' day because there was no act of Congress that declared it. I think it was probably someone who just loved eating junk food. I'm not a health nut. I eat my share of junk food, or things that aren't the best choices. I try to do better. I'm usually better in the summer, because we are surrounded by fresh produce and I feel compelled to eat it. Plus, it's easier to fix a nice salad for dinner than to turn on the oven and cook something. Of course, I usually also have a bowl of ice cream at night- so that cancels out any good I did with the salad. When I was in elementary school, we learned about the Food Pyramid. The county had a nutritionist who came around to each school. She carried this cardboard looking tool box type thing with her. It had the food pyramid on it, and we learned what amounts we were supposed to have each day. Breads, cereals, and grains were on the bottom of the pyramid. This meant we were supposed to have the most of this. Next on the pyramid were fruits and veggies- the two groups split the level. We were supposed to have 3-5 servings of veggies each day, and 2-4 servings of fruit. The third level was dairy and protein. We were supposed to have 2-3 servings from each group daily. And then there was the top of the pyramid. Fats, oils, and sweets. The nutritionist referred to it as the 'ok sometimes' group. It was ok to sometimes eat these things, but in moderation. I remember someone in my class asked which category watermelon fell into because it was sweet and sugary. (We were very young.) How times have changed! We no longer have a food pyramid, now it's a plate with portions. The amount you should consume from any of the food groups depends on your age, gender, and physical activity. You do not find 'fats, oils, and sweets' on the plate. Yet our society continues to see waistlines expanding and an increase in heart disease and diabetes. Perhaps it is all the people of my generation who learned these things were 'ok sometimes' and just haven't figured out what qualifies as 'sometimes'. These people are now parents, who are passing on these bad habits to their children. Of course, this is a generalization. There are plenty of parents who are passing on good habits. In my own life, I see both. My sister provides fresh fruit as snacks for Sydney, and Sydney will often ask for a pear or an apple. Or strawberries, she loves strawberries. Sydney isn't really a big sweet eater. She will eat cupcakes, and she likes sharing Oreos and milk with my Dad. And of course she loves ice cream. But she also makes good decisions with her food because my sister has set a good example for her. Erich's sister has not set a good example for her son. In all the time I've known them, I've only known them to eat fast food. Erich's nephew is 12, and even when he was Sydney's age, he'd come to our house and reach for cookies. Usually, he wouldn't eat the lunch Erich's mom fixed for him, then he'd come to our house and see a package of cookies on the counter and tell me he was hungry. Not being a very nice person, I told him if he was hungry he needed to go back to his grandmother's and eat the lunch she made for him. Erich's nephew is terribly overweight, he is on ulcer medicine and is borderline diabetic. If his parents had a few less 'Junk Food Days' perhaps he'd be in better health. And if more parents set the example my sister does, then Cookie Monster wouldn't have had to tell us all that 'a cookie is a sometimes food'.

A Year of Blogging: July 20, 2011

July 20 was 'Ugly Truck Day'. You've seen ugly trucks. Trucks with dents, rust spots, maybe the door is a different color than the body, or maybe you can't tell what color the truck originally was. Ugly trucks are usually older trucks, but I guess they could be newer. There's something about a truck that makes people keep them forever. Or so it seems. If the truck has a few dents in it, or is starting to rust, owners are able to look past those flaws to the usefulness of the truck. If you are using the truck to haul wood or feed for livestock, the function outweighs the beauty. It still fulfills your purpose long after it lost that show-room shine. Trucks are supposed to be durable and rugged. If you want something that looks nice to drive around town, you buy another one. I have known plenty of people who do that- keep the ugly truck and buy a new one. At home, the ugly trucks are often called the hunting trucks. What better place to put a freshly killed deer than in the dirty bed of your old truck? This is certainly preferred to using the good truck, which you will have to clean once you get the deer out of it. It was not uncommon where I grew up for people to have two trucks. Cars got traded. Trucks did not. I've never had an ugly truck, although there are some who argue Erich's truck qualifies as ugly. It's a 1991 Chevy truck. The body isn't too bad on it, but you can hear it coming a mile away- even with a new muffler! The inside of the truck shows the wear and tear from Erich's dad transporting his large dog around- the seats are ripped, the seat belts are iffy, and I'm not sure the a/c works anymore. It still functions as a truck. It's fine to run to the store. If we buy anything that doesn't fit in the Rav, we always have the truck. I kind of wish we could treat humans like we treat our trucks. So what if you are older, and the body isn't in the best of shape? You're still perfectly functional, and there's nothing wrong with that! Oh, wouldn't it be nice?

A Year of Blogging: July 19, 2011

July 19 is Raspberry Cake day. I can't think of a Raspberry Cake without thinking of the dessert my mom makes. We call it Raspberry Koucka (pronounced coo cah). It is a recipe handed down through the generations. I think it was handed down on Mom's side of the family, but everyone on Dad's side remembers their grandmother making it, so it's possible it was a recipe that came from Dad's side. More likely, there was a version on both sides. Given that most of my heritage is German, and the name of the cake and how it is spelled, I suspect it was originally known as a Kuchen, which is the German word for cake. According to Wikipedia, there are several types of Kuchen: a pie-like pastry with a thick 'cakey' crust and a sweet custard based filling; a rolled pastry with a long spiral of dough filled, rolled, baked, and sliced to serve; a coffee-cake like pastry with veins and pockets of cinnamon and sugar baked throughout; a cheese-cake like pastry with a yeast raised crust, filled with fruit, and a creamy custard; or a pie like pastry with a thick 'cakey' crust and an apple pie like filling often with sweet white icing on top. The Koucka my mom makes is more like the last one: it has a thick crust and a raspberry filling, with white icing. She has also substituted blueberries for the raspberries, and that works just as well. The Koucka is a dessert that all of us love. Mom made it all summer long, and because it doesn't keep well, we were always allowed to eat a piece of it for breakfast the next morning. We fought over the middle pieces, and got mad if someone else got the last piece because we knew we had to wait for the next one. Mom didn't make it every week- but at least once a month in the summer. Plus she made it for parties. She always froze raspberries and sometimes would make a koucka in the middle of winter to drive away those January blues. This year, I asked her to make it for my birthday cake. Here is the recipe. Mom wrote it down from memory, so that explains the inexact ingredients.

Raspberry Koucka 2 cups bisquick 3/4 cup heavy cream 8 oz tub sour cream 1/2 cup sugar 2 or 3 teaspoons cinnamon (to taste) 1 quart raspberries (fresh or frozen) Mix bisquick and heavy cream together. Dough should not be pourable like a pancake dough, nor the consistency of cake dough. But it should not be dry either. You might have to add more heavy cream. Grease or spray a 9 x 13" pan, press dough into bottom of pan and slightly up the sides. Mix Raspberries with sour cream, sugar and cinnamon. Pour over dough. Bake at 350 degrees for 30-40 minutes or until crust is brown and center is set (like pumpkin pie) Mix frosting sugar, milk, and a dash of vanilla for a frosting, drizzle over cake. (put on as much as you like). Let cake cool before eating.

One note: this makes a LOT. If you are making this for just two people, you can split the recipe in half and bake it in a smaller pan (such as 8x8). This cake does not keep easily, after two days it starts to get soggy so you don't want to be left with tons of leftovers.

A Year of Blogging: July 18, 2011

July 18 was Caviar Day. I have never tried caviar. I don't frequent restaurants that have caviar on the menu. I prefer more casual dining places. I like to be able to pronounce what I'm eating. And since my french is rough at best these days, that means I'm pretty much going to places that are considered "American" cuisine. My mom loves to try different restaurants. She likes to go to four star places that she's heard about on The Food Network or read about. Dad does not like these places. The last time we went was for Mom's 50th birthday. We were in Pennsylvania for a family vacation. Mom read about this one restaurant, and really wanted to go. So we made reservations, and all of us got dressed up for dinner. It was a place that guys were required to wear a jacket and tie. That didn't set well with the guys in our family. My father hates wearing ties. He'll wear a jacket without a lot of grumbling, but he despises ties. He has said the only time to wear ties are weddings and funerals. We arrived at the restaurant and were shown to our table by tuxedo-wearing waiters. My father was skeptical. There were so many plates and glasses and silverware, our heads were spinning. We were really trying not to look like a bunch of rednecks who didn't belong there, but I know that is what each of us felt. The women (mom, my sister, and I) were a little more open minded and had an idea of what to expect. The guys ordered Vichyssoise for an appetizer. They had read 'potato soup' and all thought it sounded wonderful. When the appetizers arrived, the guys tried to delicately dig in to their bowls of soup. Then they shot each other this look. Dad and Andy mumbled to each other, saying 'do we tell them?' Mom asked how the soup was, and Dad said 'It's good, but it's cold!' Dad and Andy were embarrassed that such a fancy restaurant would make such an unforgiving error as to serve cold soup. Until we explained to them that it was supposed to be cold. Which was very foreign to them. In our family, soup is a hot dish. Between a couple of courses, we were each presented with a small dish of sorbet. My boyfriend at the time (who is long gone out of my life now) asked why we were getting ice cream before our main dish. Yes, it really was like the Beverly Hillbillies. And I say that lovingly, because we enjoyed each other's company that night, if not so much the meal. Add to our obvious discomfort at this restaurant was the fact that it was either a slow night, or we were there before the rush. Our table was in the center of the restaurant, and the waiters stood on the sides watching us, ready to meet our every need. I'm sure they got a great laugh that night, but I'm equally sure we haven't been the only people to give them such entertainment. The worst came when the main course arrived, and as it often is in very fancy restaurants, the portions were tiny. My Dad is a big guy, with a big appetite. My brother in law has a big appetite too. The guys ate their meal, and on the way home that night we still had to stop at Burger King and get them 'real food' so they would be full. So we don't go to fancy places where they serve caviar. We go to places where the main course is bigger than the size of a tea cup. It's not that we mind spending the money, but we want to be full at the end of the meal. Of course, even if I were comfortable in places that serve caviar, I know I'd never try it. I couldn't get past knowing what caviar actually is.

A Year of Blogging: July 17, 2011

July 17 was 'National Ice Cream Day'. Since it is a national day, and not an 'international' day, it seems to have been a US holiday. But I think our friends from other countries can partake of the day. Summer and ice cream seem to go hand in hand. You hear the bells on the ice cream truck as it comes down the road (assuming of course, you live in a place where they HAVE an ice cream truck. I didn't experience ice cream trucks until I was an adult). Going out for an ice cream was a summertime favorite in our family. We'd have dinner at home, and then Mom would ask 'anyone want ice cream?' and we'd pile in the car and go to Stephentown to get a soft-serve cone. Of course, we always had ice cream in the house. My father loves ice cream. Mom and Dad had a chest freezer in the backroom (the backroom was like a mudroom), and it usually held at least three or four flavors of ice cream. Dad and Laura like black raspberry ice cream; Mom, Laura & I like coffee, Laura liked mint chocolate chip and I liked cookies and cream. The Schwann man loved coming to our house! Some people only eat ice cream in the summer. I eat it year round. Just like when I was growing up, we always have ice cream in at least one of the freezers. The flavors have changed. Erich and I have both become addicted to Graeters, a local ice cream that has recently started going national. It's made in small batches, and is really creamy. The best part of Graeter's are the chocolate chips- they are more like chocolate chunks. There have been times I've unearthed chips the size of my spoon- and I've had some pints that there is more chip than ice cream. Not a bad thing to have! The chocolate is silky and sweet. If I ever move away from this area, I know I'll be ordering Graeter's online and having it delivered. Other than Graeter's Mocha Chip, my favorites remain coffee and cookies and cream. My new favorite is cinnamon. I like to mix my flavors too: mixing coffee and cookies and cream is a wonderful combination. Mixing cinnamon and coffee tastes like a frozen breakfast. Whatever your favorite flavor is, scoop up a bowlful and enjoy it! It is one way to help keep things cool in the middle of summer!

A Year of Blogging: July 16, 2011

July 16 is Juggling Day. I knew this was a repeat, so had to go back through my blogs to April 18, which was International Juggling Day. There's really no need to repeat this, so I thought I'd see what else is available. The website I've been using to supplement the newspaper column, www.holidayinsights.com lists nothing for July 16. Seriously- it's blank. Was this a day we were just supposed to ignore? So I turned to history.com . There were a lot of things that happened on July 16 throughout history. In 1918, the Romanov family was executed in Russia. In 1945, the first atomic bomb test was successfully exploded in Alamogordo, New Mexico. This would lead to the dropping of the bombs on Japan in August, and to the end of WWII. The initial budget for the Manhattan Project was $6,000. The final cost was $2 billion. In 1935, the world's first parking meter was installed. You would think it would have been in New York or Chicago or Paris- a big bustling city. The first parking meter was installed in Oklahoma City, OK. The first parking meters cost a nickel for an hour of time. I haven't used a parking meter in a while, but I know Cincinnati just installed meters that take credit cards, so I think an hour costs much more than a nickel! Finally, on this day in 1999, John F. Kennedy, Jr. died in a plane crash off the coast of Martha's Vineyard, Massachusetts. I remember this clearly. I have always had a fascination with the Kennedy's. I'm not sure why. I was born long after the days of Camelot. Maybe it's because I grew up just a few hours from Boston. Maybe it's the Catholic connection. I'm not sure. I've just always found the family fascinating. As have many others. I was getting ready for work that morning, and had the tv on as I got ready. I heard the news, and the blood in my veins seemed to turn to ice. It was another tragic blow for this family. I'm currently reading 'True Compass', which is Senator Edward Kennedy's memoir. I'm about half way through it. As he talks about attending school 'seasonally' (his parents wintered in Palm Beach, and so when they went south, he was pulled out of school and moved to one in the south), you kind of feel badly for him. He was bullied in schools. You wonder why his parents couldn't see that giving him a stable education was important. They seemed to value education, so why were their attitudes so lax with their youngest? At one point, he says he has no resentment towards his parents for sending him to boarding school, because it's what 'everyone' did back then. Wow. At that point he lost me. Everyone didn't go to boarding school. Some, like my grandfather, had to drop out of public school in the eighth grade to help support their families. The thing that strikes me again and again with this book is that the Kennedy's truly had a privileged life (yes, I knew that, but the book keeps reinforcing it). Yet they seemed to think they were 'everyman'. It's left me with a different impression of the family, and I think much of the mystique has worn off. It seems the big events in history today are sad. Perhaps today should be 'It's a Sad World' Day. Or maybe, everyone can enjoy their own part of the world and make it a great day!

A Year of Blogging: July 15, 2011

July 15 was 'Cow Appreciation Day'. Think of all the things cows give us. From the meat we can have steaks, burgers, ribs, roasts. The dinner possibilities with beef are almost endless. From the milk we have milk, cream for our coffee, butter, cheese, and of course, ice cream. The contents of our refrigerators would be very different without cows. For farmers, cows provide income. They sell the milk or sell the cow for meat. The cowhides are used for making leather- which affects many other parts of our lives: clothes, shoes, purses. I grew up in a rural area. A lot of people farm. Seeing cows is not uncommon. In fact, we had several friends in school who's parents were farmers. When my sister went to college, there were a lot of people from New York City there, who had never seen a cow. My sister explained what her hometown was like, and someone said 'have you ever seen a cow?' They were amazed when my sister told them not only has she seen them, she helped with the birthing of one. It was something these other girls just could not fathom. When people hear that I am from NY, they immediately think of New York City. They think of stores galore, a lot of lights, Broadway, and a city that never sleeps. I have to explain that I'm from UPstate NY, and often joke that 'there are more cows than people there'. It's only a joke, but it does give you the idea. As you drive through the rolling hills, you see fields full of cows. They are part of the landscape. My sister appreciates cows in another way. She thinks they are cute. She has always thought they were cute. And yet, she is not a vegetarian. She used to say she was going to have a pet cow when she grew up. She doesn't have a pet cow. Then again, they live in the city and have a small yard. If they moved someplace where they had a big yard, it wouldn't surprise me at all if she had a cow that she kept in a little pen near the house. Maybe then Sydney would get her horse... Some have suggested a good way to celebrate this day is to give a cow a hug or a kiss. I don't know that this is really wise. Maybe it would be better to celebrate with a nice steak and an ice cream cone. Whatever you do to celebrate, I certainly would not recommend that you try to tip a cow!

A Year of Blogging: July 14, 2011

July 14 was Bastille Day. It is the day France celebrates the end of the constitutional monarchy and the beginning of the democratic republic. It is a national holiday in France, similar to Independence Day in the US. July 14 was also 'National Nude Day'. I don't think this needs much explanation. If you feel clothing is too restrictive, July 14 is the day to shed those shackles. While I have days that it hurts to wear clothing due to my fibromyalgia, I still wear clothes. I just choose very loose, cotton clothes that sort of skim the body. I guess I'm still too self-conscious to go without any clothes. There are plenty of people who aren't self-conscious, and they go without clothes. We've all heard of nudist camps or colonies. This is where groups of like-minded people come together and are free to be themselves without the societal boundaries of clothing. There was one not far from my house growing up. I'm not sure where it was, but I think it was somewhere in Massachusetts. To me, that seemed an unlikely place to have a nudist colony. Winters are pretty harsh in the northeast. It would seem to me a more moderate climate would be preferred. Then again, maybe they did wear clothing in the winter. I don't know. We only heard vague references to it, it was never fully explained to me. So what would happen if you chose to partake in National Nude Day? Imagine: walking out of the house with nothing on, driving down the road in your birthday suit. Showing up to work wearing only your briefcase, going shopping Au natural. Interestingly enough, July 14 is also 'Pandemonium Day'. Coincidence???

A Year of Blogging: July 13, 2011

July 13 is 'Embrace Your Geekness Day'. A geek is a highly intelligent technically oriented person. Not to be confused with a nerd, who is a highly intelligent person without the technical abilities. At least according to www.holidayinsights.com . When I grew up, the terms were interchangeable. I know I am a nerd. There's never been a question of that. As a child, I always preferred staying inside with a good book to being outside in the sun. I pulled mostly A's through high school. I have always been smart. While there are times I may act a little ditzy, I do not take kindly to people insulting my intelligence. That makes me very mad! I'm not sure if you could classify me as a geek though. Perhaps I am borderline geek. I use the computer all the time. I blog. I'm on Facebook. Now I have a Nook as well. But I do not tweet (I created a twitter account months ago and have made just one tweet). I don't post videos on YouTube, or spend hours watching other people's videos on YouTube. Although, as soon as I figure out how to download videos from the video camera, I will start posting videos of the beagles. I do a lot of shopping online. I know enough about computers to troubleshoot minor problems, but if it gets to something big like the keyboard locking up, I have to call in my resident geek- none other than our Network Administrator, Erich. Remember when we were in school and it wasn't cool to be a geek or a nerd? The more electronic our society becomes, the more cool it is to be a geek. We all have a little geek in us, and today is the day to celebrate that geekiness. Embrace your inner geek. I think a good place to start would be to start playing 'Angry Birds' (Seriously! What is UP with that game- everywhere I turn people are talking about it.... I think I need to check it out!).

A Year of Blogging: July 12, 2011

July 12 was 'Different Colored Eyes' Day. It's a day to celebrate a couple of things. The first is a condition called Heterochromia iridis. This is a condition in which a person, or animal, has eyes of two different colors. One eye might be brown and the other hazel. This condition could be genetic, or it can be acquired through an injury or the result of a tumor. I had not heard of this in humans, but know there are certain dog breeds in which it is common. Siberian Huskies frequently have one blue eye and one brown. According to Wikipedia, there are many famous people with heterochromia iridis, including: Dan Aykryod, Christopher Walken, and Jane Seymour. Different Colored Eyes day is also a chance to celebrate what makes each of us different. Think to your family- how many different colors of eyes are in your family? In my family, my dad has brown, while mom, my sis and I have hazel. But even our hazels are different. Sydney and Drew both have deep blue eyes. Our eyes are as different as each of us. I think eye color is something to celebrate. I know people who don't like the color they've been blessed with. That's a shame. You can change your hair style and color. You can get your teeth straightened or whitened. Your eye color is something you can't change (unless you are going with colored contacts) so you might as well embrace it. My eyes are possibly the only part of my anatomy that I've always liked. I have hazel eyes, which have flecks of gold in them. My eyes change color based on my mood. If I'm angry, they are more green, and those flecks turn into sparks. If I've been crying, my eyes are almost blue. There are even times they look more brown. To me, the eyes are the doorway into a person's soul. You see laughter, love, and sadness in eyes. A person who won't make eye contact may have something to hide. I can tell a lot from a person's eyes. Take time today to appreciate the different eye colors in your world.

A Year of Blogging: July 11, 2011

July 11 was 'Cheer Up the Lonely Day'. My mom used to tell us she hated nursing homes because she felt like she spent her whole childhood in one. My grandfather's parents both had several sisters who never married, or married but never had children. Grandpa was the oldest of his generation, and he took the responsibility for the aunts as they aged and needed more care. Most of the Aunts lived in town near Grandma and Grandpa, and were moved to nursing homes when they were unable to live alone. Grandma and Grandpa took care of them and ran errands for them, which meant Mom went along. When the Aunts were moved into nursing homes, Grandma and Grandpa went to visit them on Sundays, taking the girls with them. Even though Mom didn't have pleasant memories of such times, she followed in her parents' footsteps. When I was a child, the neighbors were mostly elderly. There were a few houses with families like ours, but many of them were elderly. There were also a lot of elderly people in our church. Some of them had no children, others had children who were deceased, and still others had children who didn't come to visit. So we took care of them. My sister and I went to the post office every day, and we got the mail for half the neighborhood. If they needed something at the store, they caught us before we headed out on our walk, and we picked that up too. When we brought the mail, it was never a matter of 'here's your mail, Mrs. Smith'. We ended up talking for a few minutes. They wanted to know what was going on at school, how our parents and grandparents were. We'd talk about anything, they just enjoyed having company. Even the neighbors who were still mobile and had cars would flag us down and invite us in for a glass of lemonade in the spring or a cup of hot chocolate in the winter. There were always cookies. 'Sit down for a minute dear, have a cookie'. I didn't realize then how much it meant to our neighbors. We did it because we were raised to be polite, and to help others. I did enjoy helping our neighbors, but I know there were times I wished they talked a little less. As we chatted, I would think of the homework piled up in my book bag, wondering how I'd get it all done in time to watch Doogie Howser, M.D. Looking back, I know there were some days that my sister and I were the only people some of the neighbors saw. Knowing that we brightened their days, even for a few minutes, is a good feeling. Our parents taught us a valuable lesson, one that made us caring, concerned adults.

A Year of Blogging: July 10, 2011

July 10 was 'Teddy Bear Picnic Day'. Remember having teddy bear picnics? I know I had at least one either in school or at the town library's story hour. Everyone brought their teddy bears and together we sat on a big blanket, enjoying lunch. It wasn't silly or weird. No one worried about your sanity. It was innocent and sweet and perfectly normal. Sadly, for most of us, teddy bear picnics are things of the past. Memories from childhood that have been tucked into the same bin as mud pies for dinner and wishing on stars. They are things we have outgrown. We know better now. You have to eat a balance of protein and vegetables for dinner. Mud is not tasty, but very messy. If you make mud pies, you have to clean up the mess. We live in cities where light pollution blocks the stars. Wishing doesn't get you far anyway. You earn things by working for them. And you can't have a picnic with a teddy bear. I have always considered myself a creative person. I march to the beat of the drum playing in my head, not the drum society says we should march to. Oh sure, there's work, the house, the car. But the fact that my house is purple should tell you I don't always do what is considered 'normal'. Most of my neighbors don't know that inside the purple house is a room dedicated to Teddy Bears. While I play with the bears, and even talk to them, I must admit, it has been a long time since we had a picnic. Playing with my niece makes me realize how much of my imagination I have lost. How much worse it must be for non-creative people! Adulthood is the worst thing for your imagination. Sometimes, we just have to let go and act like a kid. Get in touch with your inner child, and stop worrying about what others think. It seems the best way to do this would be to grab your favorite bear (or several hundred of your favorites), a blanket, and pick a nice spot in the yard (or a park if you don't have a yard). Lie back and let the imagination flow!

A Year of Blogging: July 9, 2011

July 9 is National Sugar Cookie Day. Sugar cookies are one of my specialties! Not to brag, but they are kind of famous among my circle of friends. Every year at Christmas, I make a lot of cookies. Probably around 100 dozen. I make all kinds: chocolate chip, maple drops, chocolate snow drops, and sometimes I experiment with other kinds. But the ones that create the biggest reaction are the sugar cookies. They are also the most fun to make. I don't remember making cut-out cookies with Mom. I know we must have at some point, because Mom had a few cookie cutters- the obligatory Christmas tree, snowman, hearts and Easter Bunnies. I also think we must have made them, because how else would I have started making them? When I was in college, I learned that baking was a good way for me to relieve stress. Of course, when you live in a dorm, it's hard to bake. So I went to my boyfriends' parents house and baked up a storm. I left some of the goodies for them and took some back to my friends. I started making sugar cookies when I was going through my divorce. I had a lot of trouble sleeping, so I'd bake up something at 3am. I bought cookie cutters and made cookies for each season. Since I lived alone, I took the bounty in to work and shared it with my coworkers. My cookie cutter collection has grown over the years. A few years ago I bought a 100 piece cookie cutter set. When I go to stores and find one I don't have, I add to my collection. My cookie cutters currently take up three drawers in my china cabinet! I have cookie cutters for every season and holiday: Christmas, Valentine's Day, Easter, Fourth of July, and Thanksgiving. I have letters and numbers. I have trucks and dinosaurs (which will come in handy for Drew) and flowers and butterflies for Sydney. And of course, I have teddy bears and moose. The only drawback to making sugar cookies is I have a tiny kitchen. It is not an eat-in kitchen. We have very limited counter space- there's the counter between the stove and the sink, which sits over the dishwasher. Then there is the counter between the sink and the refrigerator, which holds the dish drainer, the toaster, the coffee pot, and the microwave. If I push the toaster and coffee pot back against the wall, I have just enough room for my kitchenaid mixer (which usually sits on the shelf in the china cabinet in the dining room). So this leaves me with 2 feet of counter space. Seriously! The counter over the dishwasher is just big enough to hold my wooden cutting board. I have an under the bed storage container which is too stuffed to have a lid. That lid happens to fit perfectly over my double sink, and becomes a temporary counter. Of course, it isn't very sturdy, so I have to be careful what I stack on it. But it usually holds my flour canister, the bowl of dough, and the cookie cutters. The cookie trays have to go on top of the stove, and the cookies that are cooling have to go on the dining room table. Making sugar cookies is the greatest stress relief for me. I put on my apron, get out the flour, and make a mess. It's hard not to make a mess when you are making sugar cookies- flouring the board and the dough and the rolling pin. You constantly apply more flour. Flour has a way of floating through the air. If you're going to make a mess, you might as well enjoy it! I never make sugar cookies after just cleaning the kitchen. But if the kitchen needs to be cleaned, it's a perfect time to make sugar cookies! During my marathon baking at Christmas, the sugar cookies are the last cookies to be made. Then the kitchen gets a good cleaning and all the baking supplies get put away. My sugar cookie recipe is a secret. Everybody is certain it must be a family recipe passed down for generations. The few people who know the truth didn't believe me when I told them, so I've stopped telling people and just say 'thank you'. Here's the secret: it's a mix! I put my own touch on the mix, actually, I make them wrong according to the mix. For cut out cookies you are supposed to use less butter. I didn't realize that until a couple of years ago, and by then I'd had such success with them, I kept right on going. Sometimes I add in a little vanilla extract or almond extract. So I guess they are semi-homemade! I like to decorate the various shapes with colored sugar or sprinkles. I really like to decorate them with different colored icings, so the cookies look like a little painting. I like them to look life-like. But my hands don't allow me to use the decorating bags or tubes very easily, so I've given up on that aspect. No one seems to mind; they just enjoy the tasty treats!

A Year of Blogging: July 8, 2011

July 8 is Video Games Day. Once again, I find myself stumped. We did not have video games as kids. My neighbor Matt had an Atari, but I couldn't tell you what games he had. Several of our friends had Nintendos, so we did occasionally play Mario Brothers or Tetris at their houses. Video games never really interested me. So I think I'll have to look at other resources and see what else today holds. On July 8, 1951 Paris celebrated it's 2000th birthday. 2000 years old. Amazing. Paris has become a beacon of fashion, art, and romance. I had such high hopes when I visited Paris as a teenager. Paris! Every girl's dream come true to visit Paris! And yet, when we arrived in Paris it was nothing but disappointment. I know my view might have been colored by a few things: our tour group booked us a hotel in the red light district where we slept four to a room. From the wall to the window was nothing but beds and cots. Compared to the luxurious accommodations we enjoyed in Spain, it was a letdown. Our French teacher was our chaperon, and once we got to Paris he took off on his own agenda, leaving four teenage American girls alone in Paris. I was the oldest of the group- and I was not quite 16. The other three were my sister and two of her friends. I had a responsibility to my sister, and I felt I had a responsibility to all of them. The other two girls wore shorts, which is something only hookers do in France (unless it is in the summer when they have the influx of American tourists). As we walked through the streets, guys made catcalls and offers to the girls. I remember coming off the subway one day, and as we were walking up the stairs, guys walking down the stairs stopped and reached through the railings grabbing one of the girls. I screamed and I'm pretty sure I beat them with my purse until they let go. We went to the Eiffel Tower in the daytime, and then we went back at night. We had heard that you just had to see the Eiffel Tower lit up at night, and go to the top and overlook the city of lights. So we did. When we went at night, it was crowded. The people were so incredibly rude. I've heard of rude Americans, but let me tell you- the French have it all over us! We were getting pushed and shoved, and finally this nice family ahead of us in line motioned for us to join them. They heard our accents, and no doubt saw the terror on my face, and stepped in to help us. They were fellow Americans, and I was so grateful they came to our rescue. Then of course, I'm afraid of heights, so I went to the top of the Eiffel Tower, but couldn't go near the windows to look out. The one good thing about Paris were the patisseries. Patisseries are bakeries. They had the most incredible croissants. We went every morning and bought fresh baked goods for breakfast. The morning we left for NY, I bought six croissants to take home to my folks. I didn't realize you weren't supposed to bring food through customs. Thankfully, when we arrived in JFK, the customs area was swamped, and they weren't too concerned with a few teenagers coming back from a school trip to Europe. This was of course in the pre-9/11 days. Now, you wouldn't get away with it. The next morning Mom and Dad were able to taste a little bit of Paris at home in NY. It's a shame I hated Paris. It would probably be great to wander around and soak up all that history. But even if I felt like making the international flight, my memories of Paris are still vivid enough that I have no desire to go back. I guess I'll just have to read about the 2000+ years of history!

A Year of Blogging: July 7, 2011

July 7 was Chocolate Day. Such an easy day to celebrate! I will admit, I'm a chocoholic. I have always loved chocolate. Chocolate is a favorite flavor in our family. Dad loves chocolate cake and chocolate ice cream. My sister loves chocolate pudding. And all of us appreciate a decadent chocolate dessert. Dad used to go deer hunting in the fall. He took off opening day and spent the day in the woods. There were certain rituals that had to be followed. He wore a red and black checked shirt, green wool pants, and rainbow suspenders. He had a bright orange hat. Mom made breakfast that morning for Dad and any of his friends who wanted to come: a nice hearty breakfast of pancakes and sausage. But perhaps Dad's funniest ritual was the chocolate. Mom had to buy a box of Hershey bars so he could take Hershey bars in his backpack in the woods. Thankfully we did not depend on his hunting for food. He would get a deer once every 15 years on average. We often joked that he just enjoyed going into the woods and eating his Hershey bars in solitude. I have always loved chocolate. Chocolate has not always loved me. As a teenager, if I ate too much chocolate, you saw it on my face. That's when I discovered white chocolate, which isn't actually chocolate because it doesn't contain cocoa solids. The white chocolate was tasty, and fulfilled my cravings for chocolate, without making my face break out. I like all chocolate. White, milk, and dark. The only kind I don't like is the kind with really high cacao content. Erich loves chocolate with 75% or more cacao content, but for me, it's a little bitter. I also don't like chocolate ice cream, unless it has something like cookies or brownies in it. If we're out to dinner and ordering dessert, 9 times out of 10 I will go for the chocolate dessert over something like carrot cake or something with maple. A few years ago, I cut my caffeine intake. I stopped drinking Pepsi and flavored iced coffees. But I cannot bring myself to give up the chocolate. Some researchers have suggested chocolate is a migraine trigger. I decided to take the chance. Life without chocolate would be rather dull! Of course, there are people who do not like chocolate. So for those people, July 7 was Strawberry Sundae day. Those among us who do not like chocolate (and we must not judge. Chocolate is a vegetable after all, and we all have our vegetables we do not like), they can celebrate the day with an ice cream sundae topped with strawberries. Today sounds like a day to keep everyone happy!

A Year of Blogging: July 6, 2011

July 6 is 'National Fried Chicken' Day. Fried chicken is supposedly one of America's favorite meals. Does that make me less American because I do not like fried chicken? Fried chicken is a staple in some parts of the country, like in the South. It is not a staple in the Northeast. At least it wasn't at Mom's house. Then again, Mom cooked healthier food long before it was the trendy thing to do. She bought boneless, skinless chicken which is not really conducive to frying. She cut the fat off of meat. I think the only thing she fried was homemade donuts. I've never gotten the appeal of fried chicken. Mainly because I can't get past the layer of skin that hides under the crispy coating. I also don't like having to bite around bones. Sure, you can use a knife and fork- but then people look at you a little weird. Fried chicken is supposed to be a finger food. I like chicken fingers, which I guess could be considered a form of fried chicken. Usually though, I only order chicken fingers if I know they are breaded and don't have skin. I have never liked chicken nuggets, and chicken fries just seems so wrong! Everyone who makes fried chicken has their own way of doing it. Some prefer to marinade the chicken in buttermilk, others say the pieces just need a quick dunk. The recipes vary on what spices you add to the flour, how many times you coat the chicken, and what type of oil you fry them in. There are probably hundreds of ways to make fried chicken. I've never tried. If Erich wants fried chicken, he'll have to order it at a restaurant. I did find a recipe for a nice breaded chicken, and to me that is just as satisfying as actual fried chicken. If you do enjoy fried chicken, make up a batch or stop by your favorite restaurant and pick up some for dinner tonight!

A Year of Blogging: July 5, 2011

July 5 was Work-a-Holic Day. You know the type: the people who stay at the office until very late at night, and come in at the crack of dawn. The kind that make you think 'did they even go home?' The people who never take a holiday or vacation, and feel they always have to be at the office. Those are work-a-holics. I have a very strong work ethic, but I've never been accused of being a work-a-holic. Sure, there has been the odd time that I've brought work home with me, but it is rare. And even those times I have done it, I have a hard time motivating myself to work on it at home. Work stays at work. Well, except my brain doesn't always shut off, so there are nights I dream about work, but that doesn't make me a work-a-holic. I take too many vacations to be a work-a-holic. I like my vacations. In fact, I just booked another trip today! It is, no surprise, to Albany. I'm going for a long weekend for Syd & Drew's birthday party. Six weeks after that trip, I take off to NY again for a cousin's wedding, then to Myrtle Beach for a few days. Yeah, I'm a hard worker, and I give 200% when I'm at the office, but work is a way to pay for the vacations. At least until I write the great American novel!

A Year of Blogging: July 4, 2011

Today is the 4th of July. In the US, it is Independence Day. On this date in 1776, the Declaration of Independence was adopted. This is the day we celebrate our Independence from Britain. There is perhaps no more patriotic day in the USA. You'll see more red, white, and blue today than any other day of the year. July 4th is one of the days that I get most homesick. I possibly am more homesick today than I am on traditional family holidays like Christmas or Thanksgiving. My hometown of Berlin has a Fourth of July parade every year. I don't know what year the parade started, but I know they've had one every year I've been alive- so that's 35 years at least. The little town truly shines on the 4th of July. Everyone comes out for the parade. Even people who don't live in town any longer, like my sister and some high school friends, go back to see it. It is currently the only 4th of July parade in the entire county, so it gets a lot of attention. The parade winds all through town. Fire departments from all over the county come- some with their antique fire trucks, others bring their brand new trucks to show them off. All kinds of groups march- Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, church organizations, the American Legion. There are several bands including Berlin's school band, and usually the bagpipers come from Albany. I love the sound of the bagpipes bouncing off the rolling hills. You hear them coming long before you see them. The 4th of July parade has floats. Each float is that organization or family's take on the theme of the parade. The theme changes each year. There are old cars, bikes, tractors, and of course, the end of the parade brings the horses. The whole town seems to be a big party. When the parade is over, people mill about visiting with neighbors, commenting on how wonderful the parade was. The parade is great, but the party at Mom's is even better. Mom loves the 4th of July. Her parties are legendary. She tells people 'we're just having a cookout after the parade, you're welcome to come'. But there is no such thing as just a cookout at Mom's. The food runs all day long. She makes something for breakfast- it might be a coffee cake or muffins, and has coffee on because we never know when people are going to start arriving. People coming from out of town park in our driveway and walk with us to the parade (the roads into town get shut down a few minutes before the parade). My Grandparents used to come around 9, the parade started at 11. So Mom always had food in the morning. After the parade, Dad fires up the grill. There are hamburgers and hot dogs. Some years Mom tells everyone to bring a dish, other years she tells them there's no need to bring anything. It depends on her schedule. There is, as one friend put it, always enough food to feed the town. There's no set time for the party. You come and go as you want. If you get there after most everyone else has eaten, Mom will still get you a plate. She makes sure everyone feels welcome. Knowing there are diabetics present, she makes sure to have a nice fruit salad with dessert. One of the guys she works with can't have gluten, so she makes a gluten free cake for him. We've never had any vegetarians come, but if we did, no doubt she'd have veggie burgers for them. The tables are set up in the backyard, over by the brook which is the flattest part of the yard. It's also nice to sit by the brook, where there is a lot of shade and it is peaceful. Mom decorates the tables in red, white, and blue. Sometimes, she even finds neat paper plates and silverware. She and Dad always wear shirts with flags or red, white, and blue on them. She hangs small flags all over the yard. Everyone is encouraged to sit and visit. When we were kids, she made sure to have things for the kids to do. Usually this included a water balloon fight- which was held in another part of the yard away from the food. There were bubbles and games for us to play. Nobody got bored at Mom's. If you stay into the evening, Mom brings out the food again around 5 or 6. And if you stay long enough, there are smores out by the fire pit as it gets dark. If you leave my mother's house hungry, it's your own fault. This year, she and Dad were gone for part of the weekend at a wedding. So Mom asked everyone to bring something. I talked to her last night, and she had 36 hot dogs and 40 hamburgers. I asked how many people she had coming, and she wasn't sure. She thought around 24, but there could be more. She had made baked beans and a special cake for her coworker. She made cupcakes which she frosted in red, white, and blue. I forget what else she said she made, but there were at least two more things. Dad got on the phone and was frustrated. He told me 'she said she wasn't making a lot of food!' I told him 'for her, this isn't a lot'. Mom loves to entertain. Martha Stewart could take lessons from my mother! I'm not much of a party person, but I enjoy being able to talk to people I don't get to see often. I like to be there to help Mom, and to marvel at the great job she did. Compared to the 4th of Julys of my youth, they are pretty dull now. We don't have people over. I've suggested it in the past, and Erich, who is a bit hermit-like just asks 'why?' . We don't go the parade in Middletown. Erich said he doesn't think he's ever been to it. I like to make a flag cake each year, but it makes so much. I didn't make it this year. I had a recipe for a red, white, & blue bundt cake but talked myself out of making even that because we don't need the sweets. And I get a little tired of taking things into the office. We grilled hot dogs a couple of days ago, and hamburgers the day after that. I am going to make a macaroni salad, and I think we may just order a pizza for dinner. Then again, takeout is a pretty American thing to do! Next year, you'll find me in Berlin on the 4th of July!

A Year of Blogging: July 3, 2011

July 3 is 'Build a Scarecrow Day'. It might seem a little odd to hold this day in the summer, because Scarecrows are popular fall decor. But this is the time when gardens are starting to produce fresh fruits and veggies, flowers are in full bloom, and pesky animals get into your garden. So this is the time you really do need a scarecrow. There were several things celebrated today, but I chose Build a Scarecrow day for my friend, Annie. Last week she built her own scarecrow to keep the deer out of her flowers. It was this very stylish, almost sexy headless woman. It was very pretty, but the consensus among her friends was she needed a little more to keep the deer out of the garden. When we were children, my dad strung aluminum pie tins on rope around the garden. You have to put them close together, so that when there is any kind of breeze they clang against each other. The noise helps scare off critters. When I was looking online to see how to build a scarecrow, this was actually one of the things suggested. Apparently, it does double duty. The noise scares off animals, but they also see their reflection in the tin and that scares them off too. If you are building a scarecrow, it is important to remember a body is not enough. You need to have something that creates movement, noise, and perhaps reflects light. You could use ribbons or streamers for the movement- anything that will blow in the wind (just make sure to secure it so it doesn't blow away!). For noise, try jingle bells, chimes, or the good old pie tins. You might also want to string soap around your scarecrow- the scent will drive off animals too. Annie suggests Irish Spring. Using smelly old clothes will help too. Don't use the nice clothes you just took out of the dryer. The smellier the better. If the scent of human is powerful, it will keep deer away. You can also place human hair around your scarecrow- it will keep the animals away. But you have to replenish the hair frequently so it smells 'new'. Likewise, you should move your scarecrow periodically. If it is always in the same spot, the deer will know it's nothing that will harm them. If you do have deer in your yard and don't want to build a scarecrow, there are some other things you can try: ~hang mobiles from trees- but it should be something unpleasant to listen to that will keep the deer away ~hang old wine bottles upside down on a post (if you have a fence, maybe hang one on each fencepost). The hope is the deer will rub against it and find your yard undesirable. ~you can also use motion activated lights- electrical or solar. Thankfully, I do not have deer entering my yard. We had a problem with bunnies a couple of years ago. They got into the garden and ate the new leaves off all the pepper plants. I did an online search trying to figure out how to get rid of bunnies (without trying my neighbor's method of shooting them), and the number one answer was 'get a beagle'. So I turned the beagles loose on the bunnies. The bunnies got away, and the beagles were able to do a little hunting. Everyone was happy! From what I've read, the key to keeping critters out of your yard is the element of surprise- so make sure to change things up every once in a while!

A Year of Blogging: July 2, 2011

July 2 is 'I Forgot Day'. Some days are memorable, others are days that just fade into the fabric of your daily life. Apparently, today is supposed to be one of those days. Holidayinsights.com said 'hopefully you aren't getting married today'. I find that amusing. My parents are at a wedding this weekend. One of my dad's best friends' son is getting married today. I guess no one told the happy couple that July is an unlucky month for weddings, and July 2 is 'I Forgot Day'. On the other side, if the husband should ever forget their anniversary, at least he has an excuse... You could choose to make amends today for forgetting something. Maybe it was a friends' birthday, your anniversary, or to look after a neighbor's plants when they were out of town. Today you could appear with flowers or a card and apologize for forgetting. However, if you forgot a dinner companion was allergic to nuts and served them your chicken in peanut sauce, it might take more than flowers or a card. On July 2, 1776, Congress voted for Independence. John Adams thought July 2 would be a day celebrated for ages. Yet, we celebrate Independence Day on July 4, the day the Declaration of Independence was adopted. So, the importance of July 2 has been forgotten in the minds of Americans. How very appropriate then, that today is 'I Forgot Day'.

A Year of Blogging: July 1, 2011

Well, this little experiment has made it to the halfway point. We are through 6 months, with only 6 left to go in the year. We've flipped up the calendar to another month. So what does July hold? July is National Blueberry month. That makes sense, it's the perfect time of year to find fresh blueberries. I like blueberry things: blueberry pie, blueberry muffins, blueberry cobbler. I'm always surprised though when I eat fresh blueberries, they are a little more tart than I expect. So I guess I like blueberries, as long as they are in something sweet! July is also Anti-Boredom Month. In New York, school ends in late June. I graduated from high school on June 24 (the same date the class of 2011 graduated). So after about two weeks into summer vacation, the cries of 'Mom, I'm bored' start- which puts it in July. You've already slept in, played with your friends, gone on vacation, and now what? Summer stretches in front of you in a series of hot days filled with- nothing. There were things that kept us from getting bored. Vacation Bible School took up a week. Our town had two vacation Bible Schools- there was the First Baptist VBS and the Community VBS, which our Catholic church participated in. They were deliberately held on different weeks- to keep the boredom away a little longer. When we were teenagers, we taught at the Community VBS during the day, then went to the teen bible club at night. I loved the teen group. We went all year to the teen group, and in the summer was the best. After bible study, we played volleyball in the backyard. We were walking distance from home- our backyard backs up to the church's backyard (the church's backyard used to be part of our backyard, years ago). We played volleyball for hours, until Mom stepped outside and waved for us to come home. We also babysat, worked on crafts, and ran errands for our elderly neighbors. And if we were still bored, well, Mom had a cure for that: it was called chores. Each morning before she left for work, she made out a list of chores for us. If the chores were not done by the time Mom came home, we got in trouble. One of my chores was hanging the laundry out in the morning, and taking it down and folding it (and putting it away) in the afternoon. I usually waited until about 4:00 to take it down, unless I saw a thunderstorm rolling in (then I'd go earlier). I knew how much time I had to get the laundry down, folded, and put away before Mom got home from work. Except the night she got home early, and caught me walking out of the house with the laundry basket in my hand! Apparently, July is also thought to be an unlucky month for weddings. Tell that to all the people who got married on July 7, 2007. I wondered why July was considered unlucky, and found this link with a couple of cute rhymes. But I didn't find any reason, other than superstition. So I guess, if you are a superstitious person, avoid getting married in July. July is National Cell Phone Courtesy month. There's a month we could use! People seem to lose any sense of decorum or manners that they ever had as soon as the cell phone is to their ear. This is a pet peeve of mine, and I know it is of others. I've been in the bank and had the teller call 'next' and the person in front of me, that next person, tells the teller to hold on a minute because they are on their cell phone. I've also had people continue their conversation and step up to the counter to conduct their business, all the while carrying on to the person on their cell phone about the details of their life none of us need to know. People talk on cell phones in restrooms (really??? Phones NEVER belong in restrooms. You either put the phone down, or tell the person you will call them back. Aside from the threat that you might drop the phone in the toilet and ruin it, there is also the fact that no one needs to know *these* details of your life either). People sit in doctor's offices, next to the 'no cell phones' sign, gabbing away. I know so much more about complete strangers lives than I ever cared to. And the worst- I'll be talking to a client at work on the phone, and they put me on hold and pick up their cell phone and proceed to talk to the person on the other end. I have to say, I give them a minute to tell the other person 'let me call you back' or 'hang on, I'm on another call'. But if they give the other call priority, they meet the dial tone from my call. After all, my time is every minute as valuable as theirs. I often have other lines ringing in while I'm on the phone, but I let it go to voicemail if I'm on another call. This is why voicemail was invented- you do not have to answer every single phone call! July seems to be a month of independence. We start on July 1 with Canada Day. Canada Day celebrates Canada. It is similar to July 4 in the US, in that it celebrates a form of independence. Canada is still part of the British crown, but they became self-governing on July 1, 1867. Then of course, the USA's July 4th, or Independence Day. July 9 is Independence Day in Argentina. July 14 is Bastille Day (France). While July may be unlucky for marriages, it seems to be a good month for independence! Celebrate all that independence with hot dogs and ice cream- two more 'monthly' celebrations for July. With all the things to celebrate and all the great food to eat- there's no reason anyone should be bored!