Debate

So here I am closing in on the end of January. But before I move forward I do want to show you one look back -- as I face the eternal dilemma. It's important, y'all.

Here is the question that everyone should be lucky enough to face. When contemplating peanut brittle, do you stand up for the pulled brittle (a la Nano) or are you a poured brittle fan (Susan, we revere your name)?

Now, some of you may wonder, because brittle is good. Who cares beyond this? And I am going to say that my own political stance is always toward compromise and peace and ways we all agree. So yes. Plus -- I have never encountered bad peanut brittle.

But I do feel the need to address the eternal debate.

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There is a vocal Nano faction that tells me:

1. Nano (some may remember her as Sadie Forsythe, but you can call her Nano.)

2. Sadie's pulled brittle is light and airy, and one doesn't ever have to worry about breaking a tooth.

3. Coleen has mastered her grandmother's top-secret recipe and technique, so that the brittle she produces is Sadie-esque in every good way.

3. The left-over delicious sugary bits are so awesome on ice cream or stirred into coffee, . . .

4. Nano.

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But my poured brittle friends are also quite vocal, and they make an excellent point or two.

1. Poured brittle means everyone keeps their fingerprints -- not an insignificant consideration. Have you pulled peanut brittle, people? It will hurt you. Permanently.

2. My girl Susan has mastered the poured brittle that will not break your teeth. I do believe that most of us who think about poured brittle are thinking about a brittle that lacks the airy gorgeousness of Susan's brittle.

3. Susan's brittle = [ angelic choirs? orgasmic sugar rush? you will just have to take my word for it. ]

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So for me it comes down to:

SHOCKINGLY DELICIOUS v. TOTALLY DELICIOUS

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Not even a vote.

Snapshot: Spa Day!

So Coleen and I took ourselves out for a spa day last Friday -- fabulous! And no.  The spa we went to did not require us to share a water bed with a weird Marie Antoinette drape and a comforter from the early 1980s.  We had to go all the way to England to hit that.

The spa we went to was a little more upscale, and we didn't wear our p.j.s -- although I would have been totally down with that.

Then we went out to lunch, and ate delicious food, and when the waitress came by and asked us if we wanted another glass of wine, I said, "No thanks, we're fine."  And then Coleen gave me a sad face and kicked me under the table -- and I said, "Well, maybe just one more."  And the waitress nodded approvingly. "It's Friday, ladies."

Small pleasures: Look what I found!

Oh my gosh! I found these shoes in the clearance rack at DSW! People, I literally skipped to the cash register. It's true.

So let's see . . . how many identical pairs of these rockin' red loafers have I now purchased? One pair for Coleen. One pair for Carolyn. And one two three pairs for me.

They don't call me frugal for nothing!

An Advent Calendar for Book-Loving Procrastinators

So I've been a little sick lately . . . . I won't bore you with the details, except to say:

1. It is problematic to lose your voice at the end of the semester, when you teach four classes of students who have paid good money for some actual learning to be stuffed into their heads.

2. Pneumonia! It's not just for the elderly! Unless this means I'm now elderly . . . . Hmm. Let me think about that. Anyway -- let's hear it for antibiotics and Robitussin with codeine!

OK, so -- let's get caught up on some excellent Advent reading! I do apologize for not keeping up. These past couple of weeks, breathing has sucked up most of my energy (I think that's a funny play on words, but I'm not sure . . . Bring more Robitussin!). Onward!

Way back on DAY 15 of Advent, when we opened the calendar door, we found a book that I was first introduced to as a song. The Marvelous Toy was originally sung by folk singer Tom Paxton; I vividly remember singing along with my dad as we listened to this fabulous song on the radio on our bi-annual trips to Oklahoma, for Christmas with our cousins. There are several print editions of the poem, all beautifully illustrated. I saw this one in the gift shop at the Kenndey Center, and just loved the bright colors and swirling motion captured by illustrator Steve Cox.

The calendar showed an old favorite on DAY 16: The ladies in my book group reminded me that Truman Capote's A Christmas Memory is a great story to share with your family as you prepare for Christmas. I had forgotten that Capote could write so sweetly and lovingly -- this story is a great reminder.

On DAY 17, the Advent Calendar reminded me that my Latin American friends are in the midst of their traditional Las Posadas celebrations right now. The urchins read Carlos, Light the Farolito a long time ago in school as they learned about Christmas customs around the world. The girl in charge suggested that you might like it as well. We learned a lot about the Mexican traditions around this special time of preparation for la Navidad.

On DAY 18, the Advent Calendar showed us The Gift of the Magi, that fabulous story by O. Henry. I have always, always loved this story. How awesome is this lovely illustrated version of the text?! Just for those who were wondering, P.J. Lynch is the illustrator of the phenomenal The Christmas Miracle of Jonathan Toomey -- voted by the urchins as the best Christmas story ever -- and featured in last year's Advent Calendar. Love me some P.J. Lynch! And I dare you not to cry when you read this story:

But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

DAY 19 brings us another book by Berkeley Breathed, of Bloom County fame. This time he gives us a story about his own father's childhood -- Red Ranger Came Calling. This is another one I wish my urchins had known about when they were littler.

On DAY 20, the calendar told me that Hanukkah had begun. Thank you so much to Common Household Mom, who recommended Hershel and the Hanukkah Goblins. Hershel must confront hobgoblins who will not let the villagers light the menorah for Hanukkah -- just as the ancient Syrians would not let the Hebrew people celebrate their religion. A great spooky winter tale!

DAY 21 brought another Hanukkah story, but this one tells of the friendship and caring that can bring people of different faiths together in the face of adversity. In The Trees of the Dancing Goats, we read about a little girl and her grandfather, who while celebrating Hanukkah, bring Christmas cheer to brighten the holiday for their sick and bed-ridden Christian neighbors. So beautifully illustrated!

On DAY 22, the Advent calendar made me remember the gorgeous book I received from my friend Susan last year -- Why the Chimes Rang. Last year as Susan read about the 2010 Advent Calendar for Book Lovers, she kept wondering why this story wasn't on my list. When I told her I had never heard of it, she burst into tears. Well, not really. What she really did was smack me on the arm and call me a loser. Same thing. Two days later, my own copy of this lovely, lovely story arrived in the mail. There are many, many beautifully illustrated versions of this tale, but you can listen to it right now and read along, at this cool link.

Tonight, Coleen had the whole family over for dinner, and of course we had a swell time -- even though I'm still feeling a little winded, and the tall boy has continued his winter tradition of bronchial nonsense. Coleen nearly cut her hand off shucking oysters, so that's a tradition she's managed to keep alive as well. It was worth it though -- look how pretty they were!

So in honor of Coleen, on DAY 23 of our Advent Calendar, I offer you the Christmas section of Farmer Boy, by Laura Ingalls Wilder. Coleen says this is her favorite "Little House" Christmas story, because of the fabulous and mouth-watering descriptions of food! I was always amazed at the thought of that long table, heaped to groaning with pork chops and chicken and ham, and mashed potatoes and all those vegetables they had grown -- and that Little House delicacy -- "apples 'n' onions!" Yum!

Well -- I'm sorry this post is so long -- but it does feel good to be caught up -- just in time!

Happy reading, everyone!

Snapshot: Big night out!

Guess what we saw at the
Kennedy Center last Tuesday?!

While the husband and the tall boy were lurking around somewhere, these pretty girls were just too cute for my camera to pass them by!

Snapshot: sometimes going out to lunch is medicinal

Well, so this time last week Coleen and I were headed to Old Town Alexandria, for a long-postponed, much-anticipated, totally necessary lunch date. We have really been missing each other the past couple of months, since we have both gone off to work and our kids have become more and more self-sufficient.

That sounds counter-intuitive, doesn't it? We both always thought that when our kids could fend for themselves (didn't need a babysitter, didn't need a ride, able to find the Band-aids if a sibling inadvertently amputated a finger), we would be golden -- ready and able to take off on adventures at a moment's notice, with tons of time for those long, relaxing lunches under a festive European umbrella.

Oh, please.

As it turns out, we have a much more difficult time now finding time to be gal-pals than we did when our urchins needed chaperones, den leaders and class mommies. Now that they are more independent, both Coleen and I have found work that we enjoy and -- swell feeling after eighteen years -- that pays us. But while I am fulfilling a lifelong dream by teaching English to college students, Coleen works part-time for the Federal Aviation Administration. Because get this, y'all: Coleen used to be an air traffic controller! She has a pilot's license! She knows everything you might want to know about the air space between California and New Zealand! How cool is that?! And how different from reading Chaucer for fun?!

So because in many ways we are leading different lives right now, when we get the chance to go to lunch together, we run for the car before anyone gets wind of our plans -- our time together is more limited now, so it's much more precious.

The food and wine didn't suck, either.

As far as I'm concerned, we're ahead of schedule.

OK, so this time last year there was too much crap piled up in my living room to even think about adding a tree to the chaos. So I'm feeling pretty good that this year, the tree is in the house and upright. Don't get pushy about lights and ornaments -- I can only do so much!

The sunny girl did put up some gel-filled sticky thingies on the windows. So that's festive.

Our Advent calendar is an annual tradition, but there have been December 1sts that have been calendar-free because I just could not lay my hands on it. Those were the years we played a game I like to call "Advent Catch-Up" when I did find the calendar. This year -- win!

It's not even time for our Christmas stockings, but I know where they are, too! You have no idea how big this is. Ask Grandma Donna about the Christmas Eve when I couldn't find the stockings, so I hung six Santa hats on the mantel. One of the "hats" was actually a cloth wine gift bag decorated to look like a Santa hat. That bad boy hung there with all the other hats, like it knew what it was doing. Pathetic, and absolutely true. How cool is Santa, though?! -- he didn't even mind!

And best of all, the merry old basket of Hershey's kisses has taken up its accustomed place by the front door. This means that the merry old Hershey's kisses wrappers have taken up their accustomed places all over every floor of the home.

Some Christmas traditions live on forever.

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Behind the Advent calendar door on Day 14, we find Silent Night, written and illustrated by Will Moses. Coleen turned our family on to this gorgeously illustrated book; Will Moses is her favorite artist. With the lyrics to the lovely carol as section headings, it tells the story of the Miller family as they prepare for the Christmas Eve birth of a baby girl. It's a great bedtime story.

It's not really a circus . . . .

So Coleen and I took a big mess of girls to see OVO, the latest Cirque du Soleil production, and of course we loved every minute of it. It was the best circus ever -- even though there was not a tiger or an elephant to be seen. They didn't even have trained bears or dancing dogs in tutus.

What they did have was every kind of acrobat you could think of -- plus clowning of the French variety. You know the kind of clowning I'm talking about, right? It's a combination of the most glamorous and sophisticated French humor (at least I suppose it was sophisticated -- I couldn't really tell because Cirque du Soleil isn't so much about the dialogue, so all the performers spoke a sort of Frenchified bug-speak. Very elegant.) and the most farcical slapstick comedy -- think Jerry Lewis, but French and urbanely witty.

And oh, have mercy, the acrobats and gymnasts and tumblers and miming! These performers did things that the human body isn't really made to do -- and they all did it so gracefully!

At one point I looked down our row of seats and all of our girl urchins were agog -- their eyes bugged out and their mouths hanging open. I considered taking a picture of those glowing urchin faces in the dark, but then I watched as burly and business-like ushers stormed some poor kid who brought out his cell phone, and I reconsidered the whole idea of flash photography -- but I did stage a re-enactment for you. As you can see, some of the urchins are all about re-enacting, while others think I am a big dork.

We topped off our fabulous evening with a swingin' dinner at the House of Chou -- our favorite Chinese place. I knew the urchins were having a good time when Jolie Blonde's sister the heart-faced girl told a joke having to do with seagulls that was so funny and inexplicable that she laughed so hard she cried into her pu-pu platter.

Check out these Cirque du Soleil swingers!

Image credits:
All performance images and video courtesy of Cirque du Soleil

Why don't they give the mommies valium any more?

So it's been way too long since we've had any medical drama around here -- and that's clearly unacceptable. So the first week of school for my two fabulous girl urchins brought with it a trip to the emergency room AND a diagnosis of -- wait for it -- shingles.

The sunny girl started the shenanigans when she tripped on the stairs.

tangent: I'll wait for the chortles and snickers of my oldest friends to subside; as they continue to clutch their sides with merriment I will inform my newer cyber-pals that I myself have quite the reputation for, shall we say, wearing a pair of crutches with flair. Or at least with regularity. And all of my injuries have been sustained on or near a flight of stairs. I'm serious -- I feel like I've thrown a double-dog dare out to God by living in a three-story house.

Well, so the sunny girl yelled "ouch!" when she stumbled, but said she "stubbed her toe." Does this look like a stubbed toe to you?

Unfortunately, my family has spent enough time in emergency rooms that we know the primary rule of the E.R.: always bring a book.

The final diagnosis: it's broken, twinkle-toes. On the up side, she gets out of P.E. for a month AND she and Jolie Blonde make a matched set. Jolie Blonde also follows her mother's family tradition, sustaining injuries that require surgery and physical therapy.

You just think I'm talking about my sister with the bum wrist and her daughter with the broken volleyball arm.

But really I'm talking about Coleen the retired gymnast and her daughter Jolie Blonde, who loves horses but apparently not enough to stay on hers while she's riding him.

And oy! The trials and tribulations of a school-loving girl who has been quarantined are hard to describe. It's not enough that school is out of the question for now, or that the nerves in her throwing arm hurt like a -- well, you fill in the blank.

My girl in charge has also been banned from cul-de-sac capers because the littlest fabulous neighbors have not had chicken pox yet. This picture, taken last Thanksgiving, will not be replicated any time soon.

But me? I'm just fine!

Here's what I love:

. . . . Nano.

UPDATE: Coleen's Nano is indeed the peanut brittle Nano, as my Colassard commenting friend has noted. She makes the best peanut brittle this side of heaven. I'm just saying. Some of you may remember that Coleen's grandmother turned 101 last September; as she has all of her adult life, she spent the entire fall making peanut brittle which she sold at craft fairs and bazaars. By "she sold" I mean, of course, that Coleen sold it for her. But make no mistake -- the brittle was all made by Nano; the recipe is top-secret. The money's all hers, too.

I will ask you all to lift up both Nano and Coleen for the next few days. Nano has entered the period of her life's final transition; I hope you will pray with me that it will be serene and peace-filled for her -- and for Coleen.

Thank you all.

Enough is enough!

So on Tuesday, when my Doug Hill warned us of the impending blizzard, Coleen sent out an email. "That's it -- I'm done. I refuse to acknowledge the reality that is before me, and command you all to come to my house for a Cheeseburger in Paradise party. Dress appropriately. Let me know if the bright red Jeep needs to come for you."

Ask me how fast I put on my Bermuda shorts!

And really this was just what we needed -- nothing chases the cabin fever away like the sight of a beach bum in a Tommy Bahama shirt, frying up the burgers in the George Foreman griller. Tommy Bahama really did intend to fire up the charcoal grill on the deck . . .

. . . but that plan didn't work out quite as he expected.
[NOTE: Suck it, jungle of tomato-y tomato-ness!]

This was a potluck summer cookout, so we all brought our favorite summer sides: pasta salad, sliced tomatoes, a bowl full of fresh fruit. I made zucchini fritters -- fabulous, I'm just sayin'!

And what's a summer cookout without cool and refreshing margaritas?! Tommy Bahama kept the blender humming all night.

Most of us have been just the tiniest little bit stir-crazy, so we enjoyed visiting with faces we hadn't seen in a while. I met the daughter of Coleen's neighbor, so I had the added bonus of making a new friend.

The genuine Viking helmet sported a tropical fish for the evening. I really do need to tell you all about the genuine Viking helmet some time -- and about the fish, as it turns out. Some day . . . .

Everyone hated to leave -- partly because we were having such a good time, and partly because it was such a pain in the . . . boots to pull all that winter crap again and head back out into the thirty inches of snow that has been dumped on us this week.

It sure was a fun party, though!