Mama PhD at Inside Higher Ed!

Starting today, seven Mama PhD contributors will be blogging over at InsideHigherEd.

Caroline and Elrena started things off today with an introductory post; from now on the blog will run along this rotation:

Monday: The Career Coach Is In by Megan Kajitani
Tuesday: Mid-Career Mothering by Libby Gruner (hey, that would be me!)
Wednesday: ABCs and PhDs: Biologists at Home, by Dana Campbell, Liz Stockwell, and Susan Bassow
Thursday: Math Mom by Della Fenster
Friday: Drama Mama by Anjalee Nadkarni

Check out my inaugural post tomorrow...

(cross-posted at Lessons from the Tortoise...)

Finished Objects

As the weather warms up I probably do less knitting than usual, but I've still finished two things lately, and I love them both. The first, the "scribble lace" scarf (on the left), is for the silent auction at Nick's school; the other, the clapotis (is this perhaps the most famous free pattern on the internet?) is for me. I've got a couple of other projects brewing, and with the basketball playoffs going strong and baseball getting started I do have a little more TV time* than usual, so I may get to them!

*baseball is more conducive to knitting than basketball; I rely heavily on instant replay if I'm knitting while watching basketball.

Call for submissions

The Literary Reflections department of Literary Mama is seeking personal essays about writing as a mother, reading as a mother, or developing a career as a professional mother-writer. If any of you have such an essay in your portfolio or an idea brewing along these lines, we welcome your participation. Also, pass along this call to any other writers/mothers who may have an interest in submitting to Literary Mama.

Here’s the submission guideline link for handy reference.

Signs of Spring

Sign #1: the ratio of light to dark laundry loads has shifted, from 1:2 to 2:1.

Sign #2: hanging the light load out to dry.

On Road Trips and Picture Books

As I mentioned in my last, Mariah and I were out on the road last week, finishing up a college tour that put about 1200 miles on our car, allowed us to visit lots of old friends and a weekend with family, and got her much much closer to a decision about what she'll be doing next year. The whole thing had me thinking about picture books. Read this month's column and you'll see why...

(Cross-posted at the other blog...)

The pause that refreshes

On Tuesday afternoon, Nick has a guitar lesson. I walk him to the guitar shop, two blocks away, and then sit down on a This-End-Up style blue couch (it looks like the sort of thing we scavenged as grad school furniture) and knit. For half an hour, no one talks to me, I talk to no one--except maybe to answer a question about my knitting--and I can relax. He's probably old enough, really, to walk there on his own; it's also certainly close enough that I could walk him there and then go back and spend the time at home. But I choose to sit on the couch--which I share with other parents, kids waiting for their lessons, and a very hairy dog--and knit. It's a brief window of peace.

Yesterday we got back from our multi-state, multi-college visit about 45 minutes before Nick got home from school. Mariah and I unpacked the car and debriefed a bit with Mark, then I went to pick Nick up. When lesson time rolled around I picked up my knitting bag and joined him. The laundry isn't done, the groceries unbought, the suitcase not yet unpacked. But I had half an hour of quiet, a nice break from the road and from the pressing demands at home.

One more perk

I stopped at WEBS yesterday.

Twice, in fact. The first time I had less than an hour, and I couldn't make up my mind that quickly. I had barely made it all the way around the store by the time I had to leave.

The second time I had Mariah with me and she offered sage advice and good counsel. Don't buy anything you can buy at home (unless it's a lot cheaper). Don't worry about what you'll make with it if you love it. No, you don't want that one. No, nor that one either.

In the end I was pretty restrained. But it was well worth the trip.

Perks

I am stupid-tired tonight. Maybe I'm even espresso cookie-tired, but I'm not in my own house and I can't bake. Still, I can type. (A bit.)

Why am I so tired? Mariah and I are on the accepted-student-open-house circuit. We've covered about 700 miles and two colleges in two days, and we've got one college and many more miles left before we're done. Thank goodness she can share the driving: the 500 miles yesterday would have been impossible without her. And thank goodness that our musical tastes are close enough that sharing iPods through the car stereo is pleasure rather than penance.

Thank goodness, too, for friends and family who are opening their homes to us. Last night we were at Becca's, and we got to meet S and E for the first time, and get reacquainted with M, and talk about books and school and work and blogging. And this morning Becca handed over the ARC of Jenny Davidson's forthcoming YA novel, The Explosionist, which I can hardly wait to read. (I'll review it over on the other blog when I finish it...) A fabulous blogger meet up AND a new book to read--now those are definite perks of this trip.

Tonight I'm at a blogless relative's, in the lap of luxury, then we're off to my parents' house for the weekend: another perk of the trip is that they live in between two of the schools we're seeing.

So it's exhausting, but there are rewards. And at the moment the one I'm looking forward to is a comfortable bed.

Really?

Apparently I was an arrogant monk in a past life. Check it out.

In a Past Life...

You Were: An Arrogant Monk. Where You Lived: France. How You Died: Typhoid fever.

Who Were You In a Past Life?

(I saw this over at Magpie Musing. She was hung for treason in her past life, so I feel as if I got off easy.)

Fifty Years

Today is my parents' fiftieth wedding anniversary. What an accomplishment! They were married on a chilly Monday morning in April, the day after Easter, in 1958, and it's another chilly Monday morning this time around. Something about it must have been right, though: after one granddaughter, two countries*, three grandsons, four children**, and five homes***, they are still going strong. (Yes, those events are out of order--and I only counted the countries they've lived in together, which is actually the same as the number of states they've lived in...and far smaller than the number of states or countries they've visited or even spent significant time in.) There are big plans for a celebration this summer, but we are all scattered today, so this is the best I can do.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad!

Edited to add:
*the USA and Japan
**living in four states: NY, NJ, VA, CA
***Dad says there were six, but I didn't count their first apartment because I didn't know about it. See, even after fifty years, there are surprises!

not a photo post

This morning when I got up there was a lovely sliver of a crescent moon hanging low in the branches of a just-budding tree, due east of my house. I got out the camera and snapped a couple of pictures on the "night" setting, and another on the regular one. But, alas, what I got bears so little resemblance to what I saw that there's no point posting it.*

Nonetheless the moon in the morning somehow seemed appropriate to me. Things are a little topsy-turvy here, a little unsettled, but in a good way. It started with Easter--it's always unsettling, in a good way, to have company in the house. We cleaned from top to bottom (probably the most unsettling thing!), and then lived with much smaller children--and extra adults!-- than we usually do for almost a week.** It was great to have the long visit, especially when Mariah left town before Caroline et al did. Things were so busy and full here that it didn't seem quite so empty to have her gone.

But then Caroline and family went back home and Mariah was still gone--on her first nearly-solo vacation. She went to NY with a couple of friends, one of whom has a grandmother there. Mariah and the other friend stayed with dear friends of mine (and Mariah's) for the better part of a week, managing subways and taxis and late nights and botched plans all on their own. She had a great time, and the rest of us enjoyed Nick's spring break. (Mark was working, so it wasn't much of a break for him.)

Somewhere during all this excitement the college news started coming, and we now know that Mariah has college options for next year, so we're again happily unsettled. The next few weeks will be a whirlwind of college visits, comparing financial aid offers, considering whether waitlists are worth waiting for. There's also still the possibility that she'll take a gap year, deferring her admission (somewhere) for a year of work and travel. All this has to be decided in the next month.

All this energy has me craving a little peace and quiet. I'm seeking out meditative, even repetitive, work to give me a sense of order. I spent much of yesterday unraveling a thrift shop sweater for the yarn--it was an oddly satisfying experience to just sit and take something apart. But I've got all kinds of things I need to be putting together, too; I can't let this restlessness take over. So I'll breathe deeply and contemplate the moon that I can't see.

*If anyone wants to suggest a good point-and-shoot digital camera, I'm in the market for a new one...
**The house didn't really feel overfull at all, but one day there were workmen outside cutting trees, and the lead guy asked me "what kind of meeting are you having in there?" Apparently three adults with laptops open registered as something other than normal family life...

belatedly

I think I've posted an Easter reprise post for the last couple of (no, three!) years, so I've had it in mind to do this year, too, but the week has just flown by. So, belatedly, I give you Easter.

• As usual, the best houseguests ever. All four of them, and only one emergency room visit! (Eli hit his head on the kitchen radiator, Easter Monday--two stitches and a good story.)
• The cooking and baking started Friday, and never really stopped. Highlights included hot cross buns, birthday cake, tempura and sushi, and lemon-cornmeal poundcake. Photos below of Easter dinner. (The tempura and sushi, which were also lovely, got eaten as soon as made, and therefore were not photographed.)
  
• The weather ranged from raw and chilly to warm and sunny. No snow (thankfully--we did that last year), and no rain, either. Lots of flowers.
• Mariah had solos for Palm Sunday and Maundy Thursday, and she and I had a duet on Good Friday. The Easter music was fabulous, too.
  
• Mariah heard from one college right before Easter, and another two just after--so far, things are looking good, but I'm not saying more yet as there are still three to go.
• Caroline got to talk to folks about Mama, Ph.D., which was a fun bonus event. (Go, pre-order it now!)
• I finished one wrap (top photo) in time to mail it off for an Easter-birthday present for my mother-in-law, and another (second photo) in time to wear it myself, Easter morning. Hurray for quick knits!

And now for the food:

Mushroom Gallette, from Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. A perfect vegan entree.

Nigella's Lemon Linguine, which is definitely not vegan but very, very, tasty.

Roasted asparagus, avocado salad. Mmmm.

Rosemary Filoncino. Mmm, mmm.

Lemon-Cornmeal poundcake, from The Cornbread Gospels, served with sliced strawberries. There was whipped cream with it, too.

And there you have it, the Easter feast. And feast we did--for several days afterwards, as well.

Children's Lit Book Group

This month I read Stephenie Meyer's Twilight books and write about vampire love in my Literary Mama column: "Vampire stories are . . .perfect for teenagers. Vampires stay out all night, scare the respectable citizens, take crazy risks, and live, seemingly, forever." You can read more about the books, and my take on vampires, here.

teaching and tae kwon do

At first I didn’t mention it at work. I think I felt a little silly about it: a middle-aged woman — an English professor! — taking tae kwon do. But then one day a colleague asked about a small bruise on my arm and, unthinking, I told him I’d blocked a kick with my forearm. It hadn’t been a smart move in tae kwon do, but as I told him about it, I could see the respect in his eyes. I began to think I should bring in my broken boards, leave them in the office, maybe mention how easily my palm had just gone through the wood. It couldn’t hurt.

Read the rest here..

(cross posted at Lessons from the Tortoise)

"A more perfect union"

I've been watching the HBO miniseries John Adams these last couple of nights. I was frustrated, when I first heard of it, to discover that it was scheduled opposite a new ESPN documentary, Black Magic, the story of African American basketball at historically black colleges and universities (HBCU). In the end I watched bits and pieces of John Adams on Sunday night, part two of Black Magic Monday night, and filled in some gaps from John Adams (things I'd missed while putting Nick to bed) last night.

Then I read Obama's speech. Now, bear with me, because I know it's a leap from founding fathers to HBCUs and basketball to contemporary politics. Except, it's not.

John Adams demonstrates, among other things, the ways in which the "original sin of slavery" pulled the colonies apart even as they were coming together. Black Magic demonstrates how the legacy of that sin continues to matter in the lives of real human beings. Taken together in the same week as Obama's speech, they demonstrate the importance of that speech, and of his candidacy: we have unfinished business in this country in dealing with race.* Obama gets that in a fundamental way, acknowledging both the distance we've traveled since the founding, and the distance we have yet to go; the damage slavery has done to African Americans, and the damage that racial and economic injustice have done to all Americans.

It's just a coincidence that these things came together for me--it really doesn't take HBO and ESPN to make Obama's speech matter. Read it for yourself--it's not just about one hotheaded preacher. It's about us all.

*You can actually see in both productions something of our unfinished business with gender, too, in Abigail Adams's words and in the near-complete absence of women from the documentary. A topic for another day.

brief update

The Neighborly Sweet Potato Muffins are pretty tasty, too.

The Cornbread Gospels

How many recipes do you have to test out before reviewing a cookbook? I have to confess, I wanted to write about The Cornbread Gospels the day I got it, before making a single recipe--it was that much fun to read. Crescent Dragonwagon's new book is a treasure trove of recipes, stories, and cornbread lore, worthy of a place on the bookshelf by the bed as well as on the cookbook shelf.

Dragonwagon certainly has the resume to put this cookbook together. As chef/founder of the Dairy Hollow House Inn (and the Writers' Colony at Dairy Hollow) she has been making cornbread in all its varieties for over twenty-five years. (She's also the author of The Passionate Vegetarian, as well as dozens of books for children.) After living for years in Arkansas, she now makes her home in her native Vermont--so she's got both Northern and Southern styles down. An aficionado of the hot stuff, she'll do southwestern-style cornbread, with jalapenos and the like, as well. She'll take you back to various Native American and Native-inspired dishes, including a tortilla how-to. And she's found recipes for cornbread from so much of the old World (Greece, Portugal, South Africa, India...) that you may forget that corn originated right here in this hemisphere. (Don't worry, though, there's plenty of good history in the book to remind you.)

But what about the recipes? So far, I have to confess, I've only tried three, but they were all keepers. There's a yeasted dough for rolls (Glazed Maple-Cornmeal Rolls), a fabulous multi-grain muffin (Janice Carr's Mixed-Grain Muffins), and a blueberry muffin so lemony sweet and tasty that I baked it as a cake (Lemon-Blueberry Babycakes; I left off the "Crumble-Bumble" streusel). I'm still waiting for the right occasion for the Neighborly Sweet Potato Muffins, the Miss Kay's Dark Secret Cornmeal Cake (it has cocoa in it), and Vermont Maple-Sweetened Cornbread, among many, many others. There are recipes for things to go with the cornbread, too--greens and soups and stews that look fabulously warming. (There are a few recipes here if you can't wait to find the book...)

I've never been one for single-ingredient cookbooks, though I've got a few cookbooks that focus on one particular part of a meal (soup and bread are my favorites). But this one satisfies both body and mind; I'll be coming back to it often.

[full disclosure: I received a free copy of the book for review from the publisher after writing this blog post]

Firsts

Snagged this from Susan, though I know Violeta and Dawn have done it as well...


1. Who was your first prom date? I went to my junior prom without a date. Before you feel sorry for me, you should know that 1)my school didn't have a prom tradition, so it was no big deal and 2) most of us went without dates. My dress was hideous, though--think low-end Gunne Sax.

2. Do you still talk to your first love? Nope. We last saw each other at a high school reunion (we didn't date in high school, though), the summer right after he got married and right before I did. We had chosen a lot of the same music and that seemed somehow significant. (Oh, my goodness, that was over twenty years ago!)

3. What was your first alcoholic drink? Either a vodka tonic or a rum and coke.

4. What was your first job? I worked as a day-camp counselor the summers after seventh and eighth grade, and decided that I was not cut out for child-care work. I still haven't quite gotten over it.

5. What was your first car? 1982 Ford Escort, bought new right after I graduated from college. I learned how to drive a stick shift getting it home from the dealer.

6. Who was the first person to text you today? Nobody. I get about three texts a year, all from Mariah.

7. Who is the first person you thought of this morning? Mariah.

8. Who was your first grade teacher? Miss Hirooka, at Nishimachi International School.

9. Where did you go on your first ride on an airplane? When we moved to Japan in the winter of 1966.

10. Who was your first best friend, and are you still friends with him/her? My first best friend was Traci K, in Tokyo. Her family later moved to California and I met up with her once when I was living there right before grad school; it was something of a disaster. We couldn't figure out what we had in common anymore.

11. What was your first sport played? Sport? What is this sport you speak of?

12. Where was your first sleepover? Jo-Ann S, 4th grade. It was her birthday party, and it was a Friday during Lent, when I had given up chocolate and all kinds of other things that were served. I called home in tears and my parents said it was ok to eat what I was offered, that I shouldn't worry about it. Then I felt a little embarrassed for making a scene, but the choclate cake was really good and I got over it.

13. Who was the first person you talked to today? Mariah. "Your alarm went off fifteen minutes ago. It's time to get up."

14. Whose wedding were you in the first time? Mine. I've been in three or four since then, though.

15. What was the first thing you did this morning? Woke Mariah up.

16. What was the first concert you ever went to? I think it was Jackson Browne, the "Running on Empty" tour, summer of 1978.

17. What was your first tattoo or piercing? My mother pierced my ears for me when I was in sixth grade. The left one was off-center, and she re-pierced it a year later; both holes are still open.

18. What was the first foreign country you went to? Japan when I was almost five.

19. What was your first run-in with the law? Hmm, a speeding ticket in 1982 or 3, maybe?

20. When was your first detention? I never had detention.

21. What was the first state you lived in? New York.

22. Who was the first person to break your heart? I don't think anyone's ever broken my heart, thankfully. A couple of bumps and bruises; I've been very lucky.

23. Who was your first roommate? Betsy H, at Kent. Her sister was a senior and that somehow meant she was too cool for me. Or something.

24. Where did you go on your first limo ride? I don't remember ever riding in a limo.

Genius

The university where I teach has a fabulous arts center, bringing in wonderful acts all year round. They offer discounted subscriptions, too, and often Mark and I have bought one, choosing five acts (or so) to attend over the course of a year. Usually one or two are great, most are fine; I think we've only left one at intermission thinking we'd made the wrong choice. This year we didn't subscribe; there were a few things I thought were interesting, but the only event I really, really wanted to attend was the performance of Bobby McFerrin and Voicestra (try clicking to play the radio). If all you know of Bobby McFerrin is "Don't Worry, Be Happy," (which is fabulous, but overexposed), you may be surprised to hear how much I wanted to go--but then again, you're probably not reading this if that's all the McFerrin you know. (I've been searching for a while for his Psalm 23 and his amazing music for a reading of "The Elephant's Child" done by Jack Nicholson, but I can't find them online. Take my word for it, they are worth buying.) Anyway.

It sold out before we could order our subscription. In fact, I canceled the whole subscription when I found out that show was sold out--I just didn't see the point. And I've been slightly mourning that decision, because it's always, really, a good thing to go out and experience live performance--but I forget that repeatedly, and then wander around the house glumly wondering why my life is so boring. Sigh.

So I was in that glum, bored state yesterday. I've been glum and bored for a while, actually, which I attribute to the length of February, the grey skies, and an unusually extended "hangover" from big projects that came due at the end of January.

All I wanted to do was go hear Bobby McFerrin. I knew the concert was that night, and that it had been sold out for months. I started fantasizing about it in the morning (when, coincidentally, our choir sang the McFerrin setting of Psalm 23). As the day wore on the idea became a bit obsessive--I began to think the only thing that would snap me out of my glumness was Bobby McFerrin, and that if I couldn't go, I would just collapse into a heap. Nonetheless I knitted, watched a basketball game, got dinner underway--and watched the clock for when the box office would open.

The basketball game went into a surprisingly exciting overtime, and I lost track of time for a few minutes. So it was about fifteen minutes after the box office opened that I finally called. And, yes, they did have some tickets, and yes, I could have them. The show was in about an hour and fifteen minutes. We gulped down dinner and ran out the door, leaving the kids to finish the cleanup. (Remarkably, in a special bonus gift, they did it!) And then we sat in amazement, joy, and wonder as McFerrin and Voicestra played --and I mean played-- in front of us for two hours. They improvised the entire show, with no intermission, including dancers and singers from the audience for a while, giving the lead to various different singers, always coming back to the power and the purity of the voice.

It was astonishing. It was uplifting. And now I feel as if spring really is on the way.

(Edited to add this video of Bobby McFerrin on Sesame Street)

I'm a dash--

Susan's a comma, which I think is a very good thing to be. I'm not so sure about the dash, but I'm not surprised--I use them a lot, after all! (Good with money, though? That one's weird...)

You Are a Dash

Your life is fast paced and varied. You are realistic, down to earth, and very honest. You're often busy doing something interesting, and what you do changes quickly. You have many facets to your personality, and you connect them together well. You have a ton of interests. While some of them are a bit offbeat, they all tie together well. You friends rely on you to bring novelty and excitement to their lives. (And while you're the most interesting person they know, they can't help feeling like they don't know you well.) You excel in: Anything to do with money You get along best with: the Exclamation Point

What Punctuation Mark Are You?

In Memoriam

The world lost two brave souls yesterday, men I knew only a little but who had a great impact on those I love--one my uncle by marriage, the other the father of a dear friend. Both were surrounded by family as they died; both were men of great faith. Their loss has left me a bit poorer, struggling for words of comfort or hope. As usual, I find that others have said it better. In Tennyson's great poem of mourning I find a reason to look for words, and in Hopkins's celebration of life I find a bit, I think, of the faith that sustained both.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
In Memoriam A.H.H. Obit. MDCCCXXXIII
V
I sometimes hold it half a sin
To put in words the grief I feel;
For words, like Nature, half reveal
And half conceal the Soul within.

But, for the unquiet heart and brain,
A use in measured language lies;
The sad mechanic exercise,
Like dull narcotics, numbing pain.

In words, like weeds, I’ll wrap me o’er,
Like coarsest clothes against the cold:
But that large grief which these enfold
Is given in outline and no more.

Gerard Manley Hopkins
"As kingfishers catch fire"


AS kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies dráw fláme;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came.

Í say móre: the just man justices;
Kéeps gráce: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is—
Chríst—for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.

Go in peace.

Smek-Day and the Cybils

(Cross-posted at Lessons from the Tortoise)

My new column is up over at Literary Mama. In it I talk about why I liked our fantasy/sf winner in the middle-grade category, The True Meaning of Smek-Day, and what intriguing commonalities I found in the books we read. Here's a taste:

the story [of Smek-Day] is as action-packed and adventurous as [several of ] the others . . . which feature plot twist after plot twist, fascinating superpowers (invisibility and flight are the best), and intriguing ways of engaging with technology -- hovercars, a super-reinforced Mercedes, cellphones, convenience stores. These are not, that is, "sword-and-sorcery" fantasy novels, but books fully engaged with modern life and imagining how magic or the supernatural might interact with our technologically-enhanced world.

Read the rest here...

Breaking Boards

Or, what we did on my birthday. (Sorry about the blurred faces; they're to protect privacy, of course.)

Friday Food: Butternut Squash and Black Bean Chili

Some time ago someone served me a delicious chili with butternut squash in it, and when I wanted to recreate it, I went (of course!) to epicurious. And I found something like it, but I knew it wouldn't quite fly with my family. I can get Nick to eat squash or greens, but I didn't think he'd do both at once. So I modified it, and it was the best chili I've made in some time: flavorful, healthy, and very warming. This is a soupy chili rather than a thick pasty chili, but you could cut back the veggie stock if you wanted it thicker. I thought it was perfect. (Nick, alas, did not, but he can scramble his own eggs, so he didn't go hungry.)

Here's what I used:

2 tablespoons olive oil
2 cups chopped onions
3 garlic cloves, chopped
2 1/2 cups 1/2-inch pieces peeled butternut squash (I used one whole, small, squash)
2 tablespoons chili powder
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon cinnamon
3 15-ounce cans black beans, rinsed, drained
2 cups vegetable broth (it was probably a little less; I just measured it into the tomato can)
1 14 1/2-ounce can diced tomatoes in juice
1 small can chopped ortega (mild green) chilis

Here's what I did:

Saute the onions and garlic in the oil until soft--5 to 10 minutes, depending on your patience. Add the spices and the squash and continue to saute until the vegetables are all colored by the spices and the squash begins to soften a bit--you don't need to cook it through at this point. Now add the beans, broth, tomatoes, and chilis. Bring it all to a boil and then reduce the heat and simmer for 20-30 minutes (epicurious said 15, but my squash was not tender at that point). Serve with garnishes such as shredded cheese, sour cream, and/or chopped cilantro--or just ladle it into a bowl with some cornbread on the side.

(Epicurious thinks this serves 4, but I'd say more like 6. It's a nice, generous pot of chili, and just as good the second day.)

Cornbread!

We have chili and cornbread almost once a week in the winter. The chili can easily be vegan, to satisfy Mariah, it's quick and easy, which satisfies me, and if it's not too spicy Nick will (usually) eat it. Everyone loves the cornbread. (No, it's not vegan, but until she moves out Mariah makes an exception for baked goods, to my immense relief.) I'll post a chili recipe soon, though most often it's just "dump a can of this and a can of that into a pot," but I thought I'd post the cornbread recipe we like the best now, so that I can remember it and you can share it, too. This is a slightly sweet, very moist cornbread: it keeps well (though we usually eat it up in a day or two) and is as good split and toasted with jam in the morning as it was under or next to the chili in the evening. It comes from a fabulous bread book, The Secrets of Jesuit Breadmaking.

Preheat the oven to 425 F. Lightly grease a 9x5 inch loaf pan or an 8x8 square cake pan. I have a pottery bread pan that's perfect for this.

Mix together in a large bowl:
1-1/4 cups yellow cornmeal
3/4 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
1/4 cup sugar (I use brown sugar)
4 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt

Blend together in a large pitcher or bowl:
1-1/4 cups milk
2 eggs
1/2 cup vegetable oil

Pour the milk mixture into the cornmeal mixture, stirring just enough to incorporate and moisten all the ingredients. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for about 25 minutes, or until golden brown.

Six-Word Winner!

I convened my panel of experts yesterday to judge the Six-Word Memoir contest. Each (of course) chose a different one, so we ended up with three finalists:

1. Fresh Hell's "Don't look at me like that!"
2. Elrena's "This is exactly what I wanted."
and
3. Becca's "Potential. Lived up to? Don't know."

We then went to the super-sophisticated random-number-chooser--that is, I asked Nick to pick a number from one to three. He picked two, so Elrena is our winner! Elrena, email me your mailing address and I'll get it to the publisher, who will be sending out a copy.

Thanks for playing, and congratulations to all the contestants!

Bad Parenting Moments

It's been a tough couple of weeks. Nick came down with the flu last Monday, and despite an early intervention with tamiflu, he's been coughing and hacking ever since. I came down with it Tuesday, and Mariah followed on Wednesday. Thursday was the low point, though.

Nick actually went to school Thursday morning. He fussed a bit, but I insisted; he'd stayed home three days already, his fever was gone, and the cough seemed manageable. I was feeling human again, so I figured he must be as well.

Mariah stayed home for a second day, but she was feeling a bit better, and when I asked her to put her dishes into the dishwasher after lunch she did it.

Then the phone rang. The school nurse was on the line, saying Nick was coughing too much and couldn't stay in school. Bad parenting moment #1: sending the kid back to school when he's still sick. Sigh.

As I left the house to pick him up, I asked Mariah to fill the dishwasher with soap and close it up.

When I got back with Nick I saw that Mariah had done as I asked, but not started the machine. So I turned the dial to start and went upstairs to do a little work.

Some time later Mark walked into the kitchen to find the floor flooded, covered in soapsuds. Bad parenting moment #2: apparently no one has ever taught Mariah the difference between hand dishwashing liquid and automatic dishwashing detergent. And, yes, Ivory soap in the dishwasher will indeed cover the floor with soapsuds.

Mark and I emptied the dishwasher, mopped the floor, and got everything sorted out. And then I went and took a nap.

Tomorrow

Mariah turned 18 in December, which means that she gets to vote tomorrow for the first time. I saw Tom Brokaw say to Jon Stewart the other day that he thought this was perhaps the most significant election in his lifetime, certainly the most significant since 1968--which, if we believe Tom Brokaw, means it's the most significant one in my voting life as well. I'd argue that the 2000 election was perhaps more significant than we knew, but I take his point. We know this one's important.

What's so exciting to me is to see how excited Mariah is. She knows she has a chance to make a difference this year. I've been disillusioned by democracy (or what passes for it) over the years, but her excitement, and that of other young people, is infectious. I'm hopeful. And that's a nice way to be.

Mmmm...

Nick has been home all week with the flu. He went to school yesterday, but ended up in the nurse's office after lunch and I went and picked him up. He started on tamiflu Monday, but either it was too late (he'd probably been sick since before the weekend) or his case is just particularly stubborn. (Mariah and I, with fewer symptoms, started on the meds the same day and are much better.) He has a little surge of energy every afternoon that makes us think the next morning will be better--but so far, it hasn't been. Sigh.

Anyway by today we're pretty bored with each other. So I decided it was time to try something new for lunch. We have a new panini press--a Christmas gift, only just unboxed earlier this week--and I figured we could try it out. I suggested tuna melts (cupboard pretty bare) and discovered Nick had never had one.

So we remedied that gap in his education, and it was pretty delicious. Then we were still hungry.

"How about dessert?" I asked. We'd been looking at the cookbook that came with the press, and there were several sweet ones, though none (of course) using ingredients we had in the house. Instead we came up with a potentally Elvis-esque concoction that, while I wouldn't eat it every day, definitely hit the spot: grilled peanut butter-banana-chocolate chip sandwiches. (Well, sandwich: we split one). Two minutes on the grill and it was gooey perfection.

I think the press can stay.

Six More Words

(Cross-posted at Lessons from the Tortoise)

Check out today's New York Times.

Six-Word Memoir Contest!

So I have this contest going on over at the other blog, but it's apparently too hard.* Or not interesting enough. Or something. So here's another, more fun one:

Write your own six-word memoir! That's right, write it right here in the comments, or write it on your own blog and send me a link, and the best one (chosen by my panel of experts here at home) will get a shiny new copy of Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous and Obscure. You can also send your memoirs to the fabulous Six-Word Memoir folks and they will consider them for a second volume--that's right, you, too, could have your six-word memoir published. Come on, you know you want to do it!

Take until next Friday, February 15, to get me your entries. The winner will get a copy of the book direct from the publisher.




*If you read the comments to that post, though, you'll find at least one or two clues to help you along...

Look, over there, shiny things!

I've got a little contest running over at the other blog, and I don't want to leave anyone out. So click over there and see what you think!

(If I can get another copy of the book I'll run another contest soon.)

in stores today...

Six-Word Memoir book preview from SMITHmag on Vimeo.


(I'm on page 60)

Before...

...Super Tuesday, I thought I'd share this video. I have been reluctant to choose a candidate in this primary season. All the Democrats are so much better than what we have, I thought maybe I should just wait it out. Virginia doesn't vote until after Super Tuesday anyway; who knows where things will stand next week?

The video may not actually outline policies or argue a case, but it's pretty energizing. And that's really what I need right now.

After...

...the game, we put Nick to bed happy. One of his teachers promised no homework for a week if the Giants won, but I think his support of them went beyond the bribe. What an exciting game! Living in Virginia I don't really have a dog in a NY-NE fight. I have lived longer in New York than in any single New England state, but if I add up my time in the three New England states I've lived in, that probably trumps New York...so I could go either way. I decided to root for the underdog and for goofy Eli over polished Tom.

This morning Nick woke up coughing harder than he had been yesterday--and we'd stayed home from a Superbowl party because of the cough already. So I took him to the doctor and came home with two prescriptions for tamiflu: one for him, and one for Mariah to take prophylactically. The doctor recommended that Mark and I see if we could get it, too, and I called in to my doctor as soon as we got home. I'm already feeling a little achey and I've got a cough going, too.

Blech.

Boy Books and Girl Books

(cross-posted from the other blog...)

This month I remember my past, and look at my son's future...

When I was in the tenth grade our English class took on "coming of age" novels. We read The Catcher in the Rye, A Separate Peace, and (one of my favorite, though still under-read, boarding school novels) Good Times/Bad Times. All three are set in single-sex boys' boarding schools, and there are few women or girls in them. My (male) teacher, I remember, told us we should be able to "identify" with these characters because they were teenagers like us.

Did I mention that this was an all-girl class? Did I even notice, at the time, that we had read not one novel about a girl?

This column may not actually go in the direction you expect it...let me know what you think!

How'd I do?

Caution: Not very interesting post about my life, ahead...

Since I noted below on the random things meme all the things I'd be doing this past weekend, I thought I should see how I did.

Not too well.

I did get the laundry done. And I did some knitting and watching sports (boring Mavericks game, alas). And I did actually get the PTSA newsletter out, too, despite receiving a last-minute update from one of my student correspondents after I'd already sent it on to the tech guy to post on the web. But the financial aid and tax forms? I didn't touch them. Didn't touch my ChLA reading, either, though I have a book and a half to finish by Thursday.

The really good news of the weekend, though, was that I seem to have dodged Nick's cold. He spent both Friday and today home from school with it, and didn't leave the house all weekend, but so far (fingers crossed) no one else is sick. We are all, however, sick of Sponge Bob. Me especially.

Today I got back to the financial aid forms and they will be done tomorrow. And I think I have some more reading to do, now.

Random things meme

I got this from Susan--thanks!

1. Spell my name as it sounds: um, Libby

2. Am I a worrier? Yes. I worry much more than I regret. I like to think of it as insurance--if I worry, it won't happen. (This does not always work, btw.)

3. What’s my favorite CD? Right now I'm listening a lot to James Taylor's "One Man Band," but I always come back to Hem's "Rabbit Songs."

4. Favorite colour(s)? Anything in the red-purple-pink family.

5. Does my home have an attic? Yes. It's Mariah's room.

6. Have I ever been to Canada? Yes, several times. I spent part of my honeymoon there (waves to Susan!).

7. Have I ever gone fishing? As a kid at fish farms.

8. Have I ever seen a celebrity? Yes.

9. Have I ever been on a motorcycle? Yes, but when I tried to drive it myself I dumped it in the first thirty seconds and gave up.

10. How much money do I have on me right now? I'm in my pajamas right now, so nothing. But there's $70 and change in my wallet. (Soon to be depleted by Saturday allowances...)

11. How many cars have I owned? Seven. (Only one on my own--all the rest co-owned.)

12. How many jobs have I had? Six since graduating from college. Lots more before.

13. How tall am I? 5'7" and a bit.

14. Last person to call me: sigh. The Democratic Party of Virginia. Last one I talked to? Mariah.

15. Last thing I yelled out loud: "Supper's Ready!"

16. Last person I was in a car with: Nick and Mariah.

17. Last time I ate at McDonald’s: I can't remember.

18. Last thing I bought: Snacks for the kids at Starbucks.

19. Last person I saw: Nick.

20. Last time I cried: Last weekend, in frustration.

21. Last time I laughed: This morning at something Nick showed me.

22. What is the temperature outside? 34F.

23. What time of the day did I get married? Morning--around 10:30. (I don't like to wait.)

24. What did I do two nights ago? Choir rehearsal.

25. Who’s birthday is coming up next? Mine!

26. What time did I go to bed last night? Around 10pm--nice and early.

27. What was the first thing I thought this morning? I hope I haven't gotten Nick's cold.

28. What are my plans for this weekend? Read for the ChLA book award. Send out the PTSA newsletter. Finish the taxes and the financial aid forms. Laundry. Watch sports and knit.

29. Lemonade or iced tea? Lemonade.

30. What do I dislike at this moment? The mess on my dining room table which represents the unfinished financial aid forms.

31. What did I dream about last night? I don't remember.

32. What’s the last TV show I watched? Do sports count? The end of a boring game between the Orlando Magic and the Detroit Pistons.

33. What is my favorite piece of jewelry? Wedding ring.

34. Am I a dancer? Um, no.

35. Have I ever cut my own hair? Just my bangs.

36. What is my favorite treat? Time. And very dark chocolate. Red wine is ok, too.

37. How many piercings/tattoos do I have? My ears are pierced, with two holes on one side and one on the other. That's it.

38. Where’s my favorite place to be? It depends on my mood. The beach is always good, though.

39. Is there someone I haven’t seen in a while and miss? Yes, several! Mostly friends from college and grad school.

40. Who was the last text I sent to? Mariah.

41. Do I care what strangers think about me? More than I should, probably.

42. Last person I talked to on Instant Messenger: Sorry, I'm a dinosaur.

43. Last person to make me cry: That would be me.

44. Who can I tell anything to? Myself. That's what writing's for.

45. What am I doing tomorrow? Same as today--see #28.

46. Do I have alcohol in my home? A few bottles of wine, some bourbon, random liqueurs, sherry and brandy.

47. Do I like ketchup? On burgers and fries.

48. Do I think I will be on a vacation this summer? Yes! For at least a week--in France.

49. What colour is my master bathroom? Blue-green.

50. Do I wear a bikini at the beach? No, no, no.

51. Have I ever been to the Grand Canyon? I'm saying no here because I can't remember, and surely I would remember?

52. What is my favorite fruit? Fresh peaches in season--I'll eat one every day until they're out of season again. Really good pears when I can get them, which is not often enough.

53. What did I really want to do today? Sleep in. Breakfast in bed. Read something I don't have to.

54. Am I always cold? In the winter in my house, yes. I'm usually the wrong temperature, too hot in summer, too cold in winter.

55. Does it annoy me when someone says they’ll call or text, but don’t? Yes. A lot.

If you have a blog, feel free to do this one--or answer in the comments if you don't!

In lieu of content

I've been too busy reading lately to do much new writing, and the blog is suffering. So, in lieu of new words, I give you pictures! When I can't read any more, I find I can still knit--so I have been doing plenty of knitting the past few months. Here are a few new(ish) finished objects.

First, the Christmas knitting. Much less than last year, but still a reasonable amount. Over there somewhere (I am fighting this layout and it is winning), a cabled neckwarmer for Mariah. Below (or somewhere else), slippers for my sister (blue and cream) and brother (red and gray).

Then I knitted these (those, you know, over there) mittens for Mark (like the slippers, they are felted to make them extra-sturdy and warm). Then Christmas was over, and I did a little knitting for myself: the blue ladder shawl (which I just finished last night, and wore today), and the lovely party lace scarf, my first venture into beaded knitting. (That one took me almost a year, but I didn't work on it from about last February until the end of December.) I've just started another shawl (again with the shawls!) tonight.

Thank goodness for knitting.

Mother Talk Blog Tour: Body Drama

I don't read a lot of self-help books. (Even if I did, Jennifer Niesslein could probably cure me of it.) But every now and then a book comes along that seems to transcend the genre. For my generation, it was probably Our Bodies, Ourselves, the feminist women's health bible that covered topics many of us were too embarrassed (or, frankly, too clueless) to ask our mothers or our doctors. But I remember coming upon OBOS when I was a teenager and finding it a little daunting--it went into too much detail about things I wasn't ready for, and assumed a maturity and experience level that I hadn't yet reached. Yet as a teenager I had a lot of questions that a book like OBOS could have addressed, and I wasn't sure where to get the answers.

Fast forward many years. I hate to admit how long it's been since I was a teenager, but suffice it to say my own daughter is only two years away from leaving her teens. So when I got a copy of Body Drama from the MotherTalk folks, I actually handed it over to her first. She was enthusiastic, if unspecific--she thought it was great, particularly for girls a little younger than her (I'd guess the target age group is 13-16 or so, though some might think it's a bit higher). She liked the way it focused on all kinds of bodies and all kinds of experiences. So consider that an endorsement. I'm going to give the book back to her when I'm done, because I think it could still be a useful reference book as she heads off to college in the fall. (How to select a piercer or tattoo artist comes to mind. Sigh.)

As I read through the book this morning I was struck especially by its accessible voice. Nancy Redd, with a Harvard degree in Women's Studies and beauty pageant success behind her, speaks directly and accessibly to girls and young women. Without condescending, she addresses a wide range of concerns--broad ones, from "should this smell like that?" to "do other people look like this?" and narrower ones, from "are mouth piercings safe?" to "what is a callus?" There are explicit pictures (none of those somewhat romanticized pencil drawings or anatomical diagrams), quotations from real women, and "confessions" from Nancy herself, scattered throughout the book.

In a matter-of-fact, non-judgmental tone, the book covers everything from halitosis to sexual abuse. Some may find the range a bit off-putting: can you really cover sexual abuse in two pages? No, you can't--and Redd knows it. The reference-book format gives brief suggestions, tips, and (always) suggestions for further information, phone numbers and websites for relevant experts, and (again, always) plenty of reassurance that, whatever the issue, there is help and you aren't the first to deal with it. I like that tone: so often a teenager will feel as if she's the only person ever to have felt the way she feels, ever to have faced the problem she faces, and if Redd's book convinces even one girl that she can be helped, that she's not alone, it's done its job.

Still, I think my favorite part of the book is right at the end. A spread from page 240 to 243 demonstrates how air-brushing makes everyone "perfect" in a way that no one can be, and another one from 246 to 247 shows a variety of "imperfect" women, all nude, all perfect in their own way. Those pictures reinforce what feminist mothers have been telling their daughters for years: no one looks like those magazine pictures, and you're beautiful the way you are. Brava to Nancy Redd and Body Drama for putting it so compellingly.

Ring in the New

(Image borrowed from "Virginia's Rivers")


Mark, Nick, and I spent the first day of the year out on the James River, whitewater rafting. This was only my second time rafting (the first was earlier in the year, on our anniversary trip to Asheville), and my first time on our own hometown river. It's hard for me to believe, with all the time Mark spends on the river, that I have lived here fourteen (going on fifteen) years and have never gone on a single river trip. When Mark was guiding (working as a raft guide) he wanted to take me down the river, and I wanted to go, but we never found the time. So on New Year's Eve we were at a party with some former and current guides, and they invited us to join them on the first trip of the year.

It was a blast. It was an arctic, icy blast that nearly froze us--Nick was pretty close to a popsicle by the time we took a lunch break--but it was also really, really fun. And we were with a big enough group that there were plenty of people with extra gear. It was really heartening--and, again, a great way to start the year--to see how generous people were. People we had never met before were offering us food, warm clothing, hot chocolate, and good advice ("take those wet socks off him and give him these!" "here, rub him down with this before you put the next dry thing on"). It was such a generous and warm outpouring, it made the discomfort almost worthwhile. And the rapids, and the scenery, did, too.

We're lucky to live in a place where you can have an outdoor adventure without leaving town, and where the people who make outdoor adventures happen are so kind and open-hearted. It was the perfect way to start the year.

Birthday Girl

laughing at us for thinking a book would help...


playing dress-up (still a favorite occupation)



sleeping (not a favorite occupation for many years, but she's good at it now)



first school picture

Almost

Mariah was almost born in 1990. We thought she would be; everyone said so. Her due date was January 8, then it was January 5 (I never understood why it changed, but it did), and everyone said first babies were late, and we were heartily sick of the 80s (the ME Decade, right?), so we thought that was fine. (Later we realized about the tax deduction, but that was later.)

So 18 years ago today, I went to the doctor for my 38th-week of pregnancy checkup. I'd had my appendix out at about 29 weeks and had been briefly reclassified as a "high risk" pregnancy, but I'd healed nicely and was back with my regular doctor at the regular time. He checked me out and all was well. He left the room at one point--maybe the checkup was over and I was supposed to be getting dressed? I don't remember--and when I stood up my water broke.

And that was that. Someone got some towels, someone else got a wheelchair, and I was headed to the OB ward to have a baby. Never mind that I wasn't in labor; this was a big fancy teaching hospital and they didn't let people break their water on their premises and then just leave. (The doctor was a resident who saw me in the family clinic in the basement of the hospital--and yes, it was just as nice as that implies. Still, for grad student health care, it was pretty plush.) I was whisked through the emergency room and up to OB...to wait. We made a few phone calls, noted that OB was a nicer place when you weren't there for an emergency appendectomy, and waited some more.

And about 15 hours, plenty of drugs, and one blown-up surgical glove later (Mark drew a face on it to amuse me), Mariah arrived. And tomorrow she'll register to vote.

Happy (Almost) Birthday, Mariah! Welcome to adulthood!

After

This was before: the tree, the presents, the coffee cake on the table. Pajamas until noon, a slow start and lots of oohs and aahs as we moved through the packages, one by one by one.After, it's quiet. There are boxes strewn on the floor, still, but the presents are in neat stacks or have already been carried up to bedrooms, the study, the dining room. Nick has finished one book; I've got songs loaded onto my shiny new iPod nano. Mark made it out for a Christmas day paddle, enjoying the peace out on the river. Dinner was quiet, just the four of us, and it was Thanksgiving redux since we weren't here for Thanksgiving and missed out on the leftovers. Then in the evening we participated in a local tradition : a showing of It's a Wonderful Life on the big screen, preceded by a Christmas carol singalong accompanied by the mighty Wurlitzer organ. Hipsters and grandparents, middle-aged couples and teenagers, sat side by side and sang along to "Jingle Bells" and "Rudolph," and then sat quietly, rapt, through Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed on the big screen. (OK, I did hear a baby or two being carried out screaming, but most of us were quiet.)

Today has been rainy and gray but it brought a lunch with friends, a babysitting gig, a tae kwon do class--easing back into normal life bit by bit, but still relishing the break. It's good to pause.

Merry Christmas!

Amaretti

I mentioned these cookies last year and made them again on Wednesday; they are quick, easy, and tasty, and they have the added advantage of using up the three egg whites left over from making the basic butter cookie dough that is the basis of both mocha butter balls and jelly bowl cookies. (I've also tried the raspberry hazelnut triangles, which are a lot of work but very tasty.) I've altered this recipe somewhat from Donna Hay's original (in Modern Classics 2), mostly because of the size of the bag of almonds I had--it seems pretty flexible, really.

Preheat oven to 350 F.

Combine in the food processor:
1-1/2 cups granulated sugar
1 10 oz. bag of blanched almonds (about two cups)

Process these two until the almonds are roughly chopped, then add:
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup cocoa powder
3 egg whites
1-1/2 tsp. vanilla extract

Process until the mixture starts to clump up on the blade. Roll the mixture into small balls (about walnut-sized) and place on a parchment-lined cookie sheet. Flatten the balls slightly. Bake for 13 minutes or until the cookies are starting to firm up and brown on the bottom.

The recipe should make about 3 dozen cookies, maybe a few more. They are chewy and quite sweet, and I'm thinking about cutting the sugar by about 1/4 cup next time, though they are great as is dipped in coffee.

more baking

A couple of days ago someone sent me an e-mail holiday recipe exchange. I love getting recipes, and I almost always play along when someone tags me for these. This one was easy--I sent along the spice cookies recipe that I always bake this time of year. In searching for it, I came across my holiday baking list from last year, which reminded me of several other things I wanted to bake. I haven't yet reached last year's heights, but so far I've baked (and given away) both brownies and espresso cookies, and then gone on to bake spice cookies (of course!), jelly bowls, amaretti, bourbon balls (my recipe came from the Joy of Cooking, but this is exactly the same), and parmesan shortbread (ooh, a ringer! and a savory one at that!). I also have the beginnings of speculatius and mocha butter balls ready--one needs to chill, the other to come back up to room temperature, before I can do anything else. I'm also planning a few more--probably pumpkin rocks again, and biscotti, and maybe some good old chocolate chip cookie bars. And then I think I'll be done; I'll let you know the count when it's all over.