Seems every holiday I get into a discussion about this song, and every one of them is enlightening. I re-iterate my take on it, and each year add more info and research to my personal brainings. Thought I would put my current thoughts down this year for later reference.


And I love this Louis Armstrong and Velma Middleton version, full of improv and mirth.

I have been challenging myself to work with ingredients I haven't cooked with before. Leeks was on that list and are a popular staple as we move into the holiday season given its hardy growth in colder weather.

This recipe was surprisingly flavorful for the limited and simple ingredients. A lot came from the hot sausage I chose from the local market, I am sure. But for only 2 Tbsp of butter in the entire dish, I was very pleased.

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/bow-ties-with-sausage-and-leek-sauce-recipe.html

DIRECTIONS

Our other property was broken into last weekend. It is currently unoccupied and we were additionally on vacation out of town so didn't stop by as we normally do to check on the house and do yard work. Perfect timing he could not have known about. We found out today when we showed up and saw the side shed open and some tools laying about. Then I saw the apple tree was pruned, followed by seeing the giant overgrown rhododendron cut back extensively. Looked up and saw a window open (not broken into, just open, screen still in). Then the back door was unlocked. We proceeded with caution and found no one inside, but there were boxes of things in the kitchen, all the cupboards were open, the fuse panel was open and the fuses removed for some of the electrical lines...things were WAY out of sorts.

The man DID YARD WORK in our back yard, so when a neighbor saw him and asked what he was up to he simply said "Just cleaning up." Great cover. Get this: He trimmed trees, shrubs, blackberry bushes, and raked it into piles, even bagged some of it up... then later broke into the house and both sheds (tore one shed door off the hinges, cut through the metal paneling on the back of the other shed and crawled in) and stole every bit of wiring, copper piping, tools, and scrap metal he could find to haul away down the back alley. He took down shelving and boxed up the metal brackets intending to take them abut they were left behind. Strewn about the yard were various radio components and metal scrap we didn't even know had been in the sheds, but were clearly pulled out for consideration. He disconnected built-in speakers and pulled the wiring from the walls, and even went under the house and stole some of our piping and electrical from under the house, took plumbing from the bathroom, and cut cords off of any electrical items in the house (a space heater, a fan, appliances, etc). Hauled away about 8 car batteries, too. This must have taken hours to do, maybe even came back over days, with the yard work he did plus the volume of items stolen. A headlamp flashlight was left behind and powered on in the living room, which leads me believe he returned at night to complete some of the work. He also found a wall-safe behind a photo on the wall, pried the door off by brute force, and then REHUNG THE PHOTO. Drug addict, anyone?

Our neighbor who saw him didn't get any useful description of him for the police and they doubt they will find prints. We are bolting things down and putting up No Trespassing signs as suggested by the police to help should a squatter try to come in and take residency--showing we tried to make the place inaccessible helps with legal issues that may arise, as was the case at the 137th and Burke house recently in the news in Shoreline. The cops were really nice, helpful, professional, sympathetic. They were even on some calls at the 137th and Burke house, and had mentioned seeing our house before today and wondering if it was going to be a target. They pay attention!

The upside? Weeks of yard work done for us by someone else. *shrugging and laughing* If you can't have a sense of humor about these things, what do you have?

I am upset, but I don't know how to describe it. I am not angry or scared per se. Definitely feel violated but not in a fearful way. In an "icky" way. I feel irritated--annoyed at the headache this causes. The house is a teardown, but not yet. So we need to pay to have someone come out and fix the electrical and plumbing, at least basically, so that we don't have problems down the line (like the sump pump has no power now, so when it starts to rain this will be a big issue). I just kinda wanted to crawl home, cuddle my dog, and drink wine and not have to deal with it. Ugh.

Have you ever known a mother or father (or been a mother or father) who forgot to pick up their child from a school activity, playdate, daycare or school? Perhaps dates got shuffled around, maybe dad usually picks them up but today mom was supposed to, the usual routine wasn't in play, and it just slipped their (your) mind?

Luckily, there was probably someone who called and jogged their memory, and sheepishly the parent went and got them. These people aren't neglectful monsters. They are human beings and very normal parents juggling a million things in their world. Nobody would judge them too harshly, *shrug* it happens. Don't be so hard on yourself.

Now imagine that instead of being left at a daycare or neighbor's house, they were left in a car on a hot day. And since there was no one to call and jog your memory, horrifically, tragically, that child died. Suddenly, you are evil, hateful, cruel, selfish, unforgivable. You are vile garbage who clearly should have never had a child and should be locked up for life in the deepest darkest dungeon. No "good parent" would ever do such a thing.

I reject that notion.

Over on Facebook, a lot of discussion has been going on surrounding the media's attention on infant car deaths due to hyperhermia--that is, heat stroke from being locked in a car on a hot day. I have seen almost zero sympathy for these parents and the horrible tragedy they perpetuated. Their punishment is their own thoughts, their prison will be their own minds having to live with what happened. I feel intense sadness for them, but not anger. There is some good reading on this, so here is an excerpt from a HuffPo piece, and a link to a long, tough read which breaks down the phenomenon--how and why it happens, and who does it happen to. Not exactly a happy-sunshiney post today, but I wanted to share my thoughts, and the thoughts of these articulate writers, on the subject.

"What kind of parent forgets their baby? A monster, right? A callous, careless, stupid, irresponsible human being who should never have been trusted with a child in the first place, yes?

No. Which is why I keep asking this question.

The parents who accidentally leave their children to die could be any of us. That was the message of one of the most compelling pieces of journalism I have ever read, one in the Washington Post by Gene Weingarten four years ago (it later won him a Pulitzer Prize.) Dissecting a number of tragedies he persuasively argues that those who lose children this way could be you or me.

'What kind of person forgets a baby?

The wealthy do, it turns out. And the poor, and the middle class. Parents of all ages and ethnicities do it. Mothers are just as likely to do it as fathers. It happens to the chronically absent-minded and to the fanatically organized, to the college-educated and to the marginally literate. In the last 10 years, it has happened to a dentist. A postal clerk. A social worker. A police officer. An accountant. A soldier. A paralegal. An electrician. A Protestant clergyman. A rabbinical student. A nurse. A construction worker. An assistant principal. It happened to a mental health counselor, a college professor and a pizza chef. It happened to a pediatrician. It happened to a rocket scientist.'
...
Think that could never happen to you? Read Weingarten’s enitre article here. Then come back and tell me you are still completely sure. Think that parents who do this should be tried for manslaughter and sent to jail? Read of how these families punish themselves, and come back and tell me if you still feel the same way.
...
My heart breaks for the 15 families who have lost children to the heat so far this year and the more than 650 who have done so in recent decades.

Calling the parents inhuman monsters might make us feel better, but it won’t save the next child. Recognizing they are human beings just might."

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/02/27/AR2009022701549.html?sid=ST2009030602446

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/06/25/what-parent-leaves-child-in-broiling-car_n_3497956.html

Have you ever known a mother or father (or been a mother or father) who forgot to pick up their child from a school activity, playdate, daycare or school? Perhaps dates got shuffled around, maybe dad usually picks them up but today mom was supposed to, the usual routine wasn't in play, and it just slipped their (your) mind?

Luckily, there was probably someone who called and jogged their memory, and sheepishly the parent went and got them. These people aren't neglectful monsters. They are human beings and very normal parents juggling a million things in their world. Nobody would judge them too harshly, *shrug* it happens. Don't be so hard on yourself.

Now imagine that instead of being left at a daycare or neighbor's house, they were left in a car on a hot day. And since there was no one to call and jog your memory, horrifically, tragically, that child died. Suddenly, you are evil, hateful, cruel, selfish, unforgivable. You are vile garbage who clearly should have never had a child and should be locked up for life in the deepest darkest dungeon. No "good parent" would ever do such a thing.

I reject that notion.

A lot of discussion has been going on surrounding the media's attention on infant car deaths due to hyperhermia--that is, heat stroke from being locked in a car on a hot day. I have seen almost zero sympathy for these parents and the horrible tragedy they endured. Their punishment is their own thoughts, their prison will be their own minds having to live with what happened. I feel intense sadness for them, empathy for their heartbreak and incredible loss, but not anger. There is some good reading on this, so here is an excerpt from a HuffPo piece, and a link to a long, tough read which breaks down the phenomenon--how and why it happens, and who does it happen to. Not exactly a happy-sunshiney post today, but I wanted to share my thoughts, and the thoughts of these articulate writers, on the subject.

"What kind of parent forgets their baby? A monster, right? A callous, careless, stupid, irresponsible human being who should never have been trusted with a child in the first place, yes?

No. Which is why I keep asking this question.

The parents who accidentally leave their children to die could be any of us. That was the message of one of the most compelling pieces of journalism I have ever read, one in the Washington Post by Gene Weingarten four years ago (it later won him a Pulitzer Prize.) Dissecting a number of tragedies he persuasively argues that those who lose children this way could be you or me.
'What kind of person forgets a baby?

The wealthy do, it turns out. And the poor, and the middle class. Parents of all ages and ethnicities do it. Mothers are just as likely to do it as fathers. It happens to the chronically absent-minded and to the fanatically organized, to the college-educated and to the marginally literate. In the last 10 years, it has happened to a dentist. A postal clerk. A social worker. A police officer. An accountant. A soldier. A paralegal. An electrician. A Protestant clergyman. A rabbinical student. A nurse. A construction worker. An assistant principal. It happened to a mental health counselor, a college professor and a pizza chef. It happened to a pediatrician. It happened to a rocket scientist.'

...

Think that could never happen to you? Read Weingarten’s enitre article here. Then come back and tell me you are still completely sure. Think that parents who do this should be tried for manslaughter and sent to jail? Read of how these families punish themselves, and come back and tell me if you still feel the same way.

...

My heart breaks for the 15 families who have lost children to the heat so far this year and the more than 650 who have done so in recent decades.

Calling the parents inhuman monsters might make us feel better, but it won’t save the next child. Recognizing they are human beings just might."

https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/magazine/fatal-distraction-forgetting-a-child-in-thebackseat-of-a-car-is-a-horrifying-mistake-is-it-a-crime/2014/06/16/8ae0fe3a-f580-11e3-a3a5-42be35962a52_story.html

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/06/25/what-parent-leaves-child-in-broiling-car_n_3497956.html

Asiago Crusted Chicken with Pesto Angel Hair Pasta
1 lb. chicken breasts, boneless skinless
1/4 c. Asiago cheese
1 egg
1/2 c. bread cumbs
Oregano, garlic salt, pepper to taste
2 portions angel hair pasta
store-bought pesto
dash of cream
pat of butter

Cook time approx 25 minutes

Instructions

• Pre-heat oven to 375F
• Foil a baking pan or sheet, spray foil with cooking spray
• Combine cheese, bread crumbs, oregano, salt and pepper in a shallow bowl
• Crack egg into separate bowl and whisk lightly
• Pat chicken dry, dip in egg then in cheese/bread crumbs mixture coating all sides
• Place chicken on prepared baking sheet and put in oven, set timer for 10 minutes
• When timer goes off, start a pot of water boiling; Re-set timer for 15 minutes
• When water comes to boil, drop in pasta and cook 7-9 minutes
• Drain pasta and return to hot pot. Immediately drop in pat of butter and stir to coat pasta. Add dash of cream (I used about a Tablespoon) and stir. Finally, add 2 Tbsp of pesto or as much as desired to coat your pasta
• Your timer for the chicken should be going off about now, so pull it outta there
• Place a nest of pesto pasta in the center of the plate, lay chicken breast on top. Grate a little more asiago on top, maybe a sprig of parsley if you're feeling festive

In the late 80's, I was in a youth summer stock touring company. As we were traveling around Arizona and southern California with our show, we would get to attend lots of theater along the way. Debbie Reynolds was playing in a touring revival of The Unsinkable Molly Brown down in LA (at the Shubert? The Kodak?). This was a reprisal of her role 25 years after she was an Oscar nominee for her movie role, but I had no idea. Thanks to this experience, I always think of Molly as an older woman, not the young woman she would have been in her 1964 movie role...and that is only one of the remarkable memories I carry away from it...

During one scene aboard the Titanic, Molly is talking about her gigantic wedding ring. She strode out on the stage, and mid-sentence she stayed in character yet broke the 4th wall when she said, "...and I left my ring backstage..." She strode back off stage to get the prop and returned to the scene, the audience applauding and howling at this "raw moment".

I remember we would debrief our theater experiences, and in discussing our night out at this show, our director told we young, impressionable child actors that while that scene was funny and memorable, "she could get away with it because she is DEBBIE REYNOLDS."

I never forgot that lesson. There are some people who by virtue of talent or fame or a combination of  both (because lord knows these days they are not tied together in any way) somehow manage to win us over no matter what they do. They have that "X-Factor" which makes them magnetic to us mere mortals, and we forgive them everything and enjoy those brief moments of familiarity when they make mistakes. "HEY! They're human!" and that realization doesn't knock them down, but instead raises them up somehow.

I aspire to that in my life. Yet I know talent can't buy that entirely. Experience breeds grace in some cases, but that isn't always the way. For most, it is something within you--your soul, your spirit, your je ne sais quoi-- which wins over all. Debbie had it. And I see many performers in my world, both big time and "small time" who have this quality. It's easy to be jealous of them. But even easier to just be in awe of them and enjoy what they have to offer.

I was at a loss as to what yo cook last night and hubby was grumbling about being hungry but was stuck servicing my computer for a bit. So as usual, I dug around to see what I had for ingredients. When warm weather comes, I almost always crave garbanzo beans. And I had some chicken breasts. Okay, I can work with that. Maybe something with a little spice...cumin, I thought. So I looked up some recipes using these ingredients, and then kluged together the following, which turned out DEEEElicious!

1lb boneless, skinless chicken breast, cubed
Olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 medium onion, chopped
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp cumin
1/2 cup chicken stock (home made!)
1 15oz can crushed tomatoes (I used fire roasted)
2 Tbsp tomato paste
1 15oz can garbanzo beans/chickpeas, drained not rinsed
2 cups spinach or Swiss chard (optional)
1 Tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp salt, or to taste
3/4 cup plain yogurt
4 Tbsp cilantro, chopped (optional) 
2 servings rice of choice (optional)

In Dutch oven (or large saucepan), heat some olive oil over medium-high heat. Add chicken and cook 2-3 minutes or until brown (do in two batches if necessary). Remove from pan and set aside.

Reduce heat to medium. Add more oil to pan, add the onion and garlic. Cook, stirring constantly for 4-5 minutes until softened. Do not brown.

Stir in ginger, cayenne, coriander, and cumin. Saute for 1 minutes or until fragrant.

Stir in stock, tomatoes, tomato paste, sugar and salt and add chickpeas and browned chicken (and optional spinach or Swiss chard) to the pan. Bring to boil, reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes until chicken is cooked through and chickpeas have softened a bit.

Stir in yogurt and simmer over very low heat for 1-2 minutes. Don't do this too long or too hot, or the yogurt will separate. Keep it creamy!

Split into two bowls and enjoy!

Notes:
One of the recipes that inspired mine called for a smattering of cilantro on top, for color I guess. If I had cilantro to use (which I didn't last night), I would use more because I loooove the taste of cilantro. So I upped that number in the recipe, though I did not get to enjoy it that way last night.

You could also enjoy this with a scoop of rice, but I like the heartiness of chickpeas just fine without any additional starch involved.

If dairy ain't yo' thing, I bet some coconut milk in this recipe would be delicious and add a little "creaminess" in place of the yogurt.

A post from my 30th birthday over on LiveJournal

"Hell, the entire latter half of my 20's in general were really good.

I started my own business when I was 26. I left my office job in the tech sector soon after, to focus on what I really wanted to do. My husband was willing and able to support me in this. I trained with my mentor and started teaching classes not too long after that.

My classes grew. My business grew. My troupe grew. My marriage grew. My friendships grew. My family (puppies!) grew. My joy grew. (the word "grew" just stopped making sense ;)

And that has been the sum of my latter half of my 20's. Everything growing and flourishing. Boundaries being tested and expanded. Bits and pieces settling in, others being uprooted and examined, nurtured in new directions. It has taken a lot of work, but work that was well worth the effort and despite stumbles here and there, were really such a natural process and such a blessing to have the opportunity to be "my life".

So now I am facing 30. 10:36 tonight I am officially reborn into a new decade. Supposedly a really incredible decade for most. But those who go on and on about how great their 30's are, are the same people who said they didn't like their 20's that much. And really, I loved my 20's. All the struggles and heartache, all the mistakes and COMPLETE AND UTTER MISTAKES...I love them all. I truly do. Of course I have regrets here and there, but not such that I would take it back if I could--they shaped me. And I always seem to land on my feet (JINX!), no matter how bad things get. I have always had friends who are true blue--love in my life that has seen me through times when I felt I didn't deserve love. Pursuits that filled up the lonliest days and enhanced the most social of days.

To say it's been an easy life dismisses too much of the truly difficult times I have gone through. But looking back, I had it damn good. It wasn't easy, but it was just as it should be, you know what I mean? How do you beat that?

So here I stand at 30. Three-Oh. Oh. Dear. I guess when most people are looking forward to the good changes ahead, to the ride up the hill to greater things, I stand at the top of a huge hill built with love and joy and think, "Is there any way to go but down from here?!" And I fear my 30's a little. I fear the loss of things I probably don't even know I have now, but boy will I know them when they're gone! And while I vow not to turn into a worrier over things that haven't even happened yet, I can't help but feel a little trepidation about my 30's. I feel like my running headlong into today with excitement was just brought up short by the realization that things are so damn good now, where can I go from here?

If, God willing, that direction is up, I can't even imagine what that will mean. And if for a time it is down, I have a pretty strong foundation to stand on while I weather the storm.

So why worry...
right?"

I was searching for an old post in my LiveJournal today and fell down a rabbit hole of reminiscing. Here is a post I wrote about reminiscing...wedding day reminiscing, from October of 2005.

"I am realizing that I still harbor resentment for our wedding DJ 5 years ago.

I was a great wedding planner. I am guessing most Virgos are. I was planning a wedding in another city, and it was all my mail and phone. I had every detail hammered out, and the DJ was no exception. I had a list of songs I wanted played throughout the night--first dance songs for all our married bridal party members, and a song for my Mom and Dad. And of course, the first dance song--At Last by Etta James. A quite popular song, and an increasingly popular wedding song in the years since (I had never heard it used, then three of our friends used it in some aspect of their wedding, two of them were first dance songs and one was a passage in their program). It was all laid out in the very handy fax the DJ sent me to fill in, including songs I didn't want played, etc. I confirmed with him, and all was good.

So we have our fabulous wedding, and had some photos shot while our friends waited in the reception room down the hall from the chapel. Then we arrive, and it is time for our big entrance, at which time the DJ suggested we have our first dance right away upon entering. Great, all eyes on us, we had practiced with dance coaches for a few weeks, learning a few flourishes to go with our song, and we were ready! So the DJ meets us at the reception room door as we are about to commence our grand entrance, and he leans over to me and says "So, I don't have At Last. Is there another song you want me to play for your first dance?"

WHAT THE FUCKING HELL?!

I being the cool cucumber I am under pressure, and being the Virgo I was born to be, I look directly at him and say "I brought my own CD, IN CASE." So we send someone back in to grab my wedding folder with all my contracts and whatnot, retrieve the CD, and the day is saved.

That was close to being just about the perfect way to ruin someone's romantic memory of dancing with her new husband in front of all your friends and family. It is a miracle that Chris even agreed to doing such a thing, being as shy as he is, and I couldn't be sure that he wouldn't have wanted to back out entirely if we had a different song we hadn't practiced to.

So as I sit and listen to one of my favorite songs in the world, thinking about one of the happiest days of my life, I say unto DJ Guy:
fuck off and die. :)"

My girl is old
Stout and frail,
with wagging tail
Her brown eyes see black,
her black fur now grey
Her colors are changing
but never her heart
Grumpy and loving
always two things at once
Were she of two legs
she shall wear purple,
of four her head swings low
collecting smells to paint her vision
She comes at things sideways
wobbly and bumpy
I guide her with a steady hand
afraid she’ll slip away and away and away

Time for some more recipes to share. Here is a few I did in a couple hours one afternoon as a make-n-take meal for my bestie Arya and her hubby Rob, who just welcomed their beautiful new baby girl Theia into the world. They put out an all-points plea for someone to bring them a meal or two the day after the baby was born, as the cupboard was bare and they didn't have the energy or interest in preparing anything themselves. Rightfully so! They needed some rest!

So I popped open my fridge and was able to come up with two prepared meals with sides which they could simply throw in a pan/dish and cook or reheat. I included a printout with a simple ingredients list (so they would know what went into the dish, in case there were any food sensitivities to consider) and the easy instructions for cooking/heating. I put them in an insulated bag with an ice pack in case I had to leave it on their porch. Both meals were a hit and I was told they would like to get the recipes from me.

Without further ado, here's the two menus:

1 lb mushrooms of choice, whole or cut into chunks
1 lb carrots, cut into chunks
1/2 a large onion, cut into chunks
3 cloves garlic, skin on
3-4 cups homemade poultry stock
Herbs of choice (I used thyme and marjoram, could use sage, rosemary, etc)
salt and pepper to taste
olive oil

Set oven to 425

• Put veggies on parchment-lined cookie sheet. Drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper, toss to coat.
• Put garlic cloves into square of foil, drizzle with oil, close into packet and place on sheet with veggies.
• Roast for 25-30 minutes until veggies are softened
• Let cool slightly then squeeze garlic from its skin. Transfer veggies and garlic to bowl and add 1 cup stock, blend with immersion blender -OR- transfer to food processor and blend with 1 cup stock; work in batches if needed.
  Continue to add stock 1/2 cup at a time to get desired consistency. (I used 3 cups for mine)
• Add herbs of choice and salt and pepper to taste.
• Serve with a dollop of sour cream and some crusty bread on the side.

I could see a LOT of variations on this theme, adding more veggies to the mix (roasting red peppers along with the other veggies for instance sounds delicious), changing up the herbs used, setting aside from of the veggies to chop into smaller pieces and keeping them whole for a more chunky soup, pairing with rice, quinoa, or lentils....the list goes on. And of course what mushrooms you use will change the earthiness/nuttiness factors in the soup as well. Oh, nutty! What about some ground walnuts in the mix? So many possibilities. It was super simple, fast enough to make just before company arrived, made the house smell fantastic and was easy cleanup.