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!