Divine Grace

This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory.

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A couple of weeks ago, Christmas Day to be exact, I attended church services at the American Cathedral in Paris with my dad and sister. When I arrived, my sister was waiting outside for me, having arrived a little bit earlier with dad. She said she was very excited as they had been listening to the soloists rehearse and the female was really good. Great! I love me a good church service and particularly one with good music.

As we went through the multi-page program (it was one of those ones where they include all the readings and songs word for word), about a half hour into it, I'm reading along responding to the minister and sort of looking ahead.

"Holy Crap!" I whisper loudly to my family. Next up is the offertory music - sung by Denyce Graves (and some tenor...). Who is she? Only one of the greatest mezzo-sopranos in the world. An American treasure, born and raised in Washington, DC. The woman who sang the most stirring rendition of America, the Beautiful and the Lord's Prayer at the church service at the National Cathedral after 9-11 (W. of course totally not getting it). The woman whose signature role of Carmen I saw her perform - as a first anniversary gift from my husband. Sigh.

I cried.

After the service, my dad and I ran over to say hello - I was shaking. I told her Santa left an extra present under the tree for me this year. I'm such a dork.

Oh, the shoes

My sister wrote a really great post about breaking free from consumerism - the kind that leads to the needless death of a Wal-Mart worker.

You should read the whole posting - it's all very good info and thought.

Let me just highlight her ideas for detoxing:

• Read this excellent, non-preachy guide (with cartoons!) to reducing your consumerism: Affluenza
• Join (or at least explore) the simplicity movement. Read more here: Voluntary simplicity movement re-emerges and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simple_living
• Get a fresh perspective: spend a night volunteering at a homeless shelter instead of lining up for deals. This will give you a whole new appreciation for the word need.
• Make a list of the things you really want and then put off buying them for 3, 6 or 12 months (or ever), and I'm talking about a flat screen TV or that third pair of black heels, not health insurance. It may seem painful at first, but you may see over time that you don't miss the items.
• Don't fill your leisure time with consumerism. Pick something you love to do - cycling, writing, photography - and do that instead. Yes, you may have to make some initial investments (don't use it as an excuse to gear up), but in the long run you'll have a much healthier and less expensive hobby than going to the mall.

Oooh, putting off the shoe shopping is going to be tough...

By The Sea By The Sea

This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory.

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We took a drive out to Arcachon yesterday - one of those lovely (if sometimes a bit tacky) European seaside towns. A moonbounce, ice cream, sunbathers, and ticket kiosks.... they had it all.

Reminded me very much of that song from Sweeney Todd - our day had quite a bit less gore and psychosis. It was lovely.

and check out Looking Into for some interesting hood ornaments

My Sister Is...

HILARIOUS

For more Singular Saturdays go visit Jenn in Holland.

Dateline Klondike

It's that time of the week - injecting a little geographic exploration into an otherwise sedentary life.

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Okay - just back from Alaska. Lots of travel tales in there but for right now I'm tired and have to go to bed.

Here's something to occupy you until I get the chance to post.

Traveling Companion

It's that time of the week - injecting a little geographic exploration into an otherwise sedentary life.

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In my myriad of travels over the years I've had the pleasure and displeasure of traveling with others. There is something about traveling with another person which can make you hate them or love them - let's hope it's the latter. Traveling alone can also have its plusses and minuses too.

I've traveled a bit on my own at various times - either for plesaure or work - and have found it to be both freeing and confining. After a stint on a kibbutz one summer I took off and backpacked around Israel by myself. No pesky companion to keep me from rising early to hike up Masada and see the sunrise. Alas, no companion either to accompany me out at night to walk around Jerusalem's Old City or to accompany me around the wall of the city. Both situations place a single person at risk of mugging or worse. I also ran into a similar problem while traveling for work in Morocco - a single woman out alone at night is thought to be a prostitute. Not sure what I would have been subjected to had I tested this theory.

On the flip side, traveling alone often afforded me the opportunity to meet new people, as I was not bound to any particular companion. In Benin for work, I spent most evenings at the hotel tiki bar by the pool chatting with the bartenders (in French!). Joining me were several other work travelers - an American selling a plane to the head of state and an Australian commodities trader loading a ship with cottonseed. I learned a lot about international commerce! In Savannah, I sat at the communal tables at Mrs. Wilkes' Boarding House and met conventioneers and couples touring the town.

My travels with my sister are legendary and in some ways I found a new friend - we got to know each other in ways that staying at home don't reveal. How fast are you willing to run for a train? Would you eat something you couldn't pronounce or recognize? In how many languages can you say "ooh, that jacket is so cute, I wonder what it costs?". Two friends of mine and I backpacked around Europe on a tiny amount of money but we survived with each other's help. When one friend accidentally put contact lens cleaning solution in her eye, we other two navigated the Greek bus and medical system - in German! To this day, I don't doubt any one of us would travel miles to help the others.

Nowadays I'm traveling with my husband and it's been a learning experience. We complement each other well - something we had to learn over time. He's a planner and I'm more laid-back. There was some friction at first but then we realized how well we work together - one made the reservations, the other agreed not to criticize the choices. Hasn't steered me wrong yet.

Cruisin'

It's that time of the week - injecting a little geographic exploration into an otherwise sedentary life.

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Yours truly is going to be out of town for a little while - about 10 days - for an Alaska cruise. No doubt future posts will be filled with stories about icebergs and polar bears or whatever else is there. Black bears? Moose? Maybe I need to do some research before I go.

Leading up to this trip, people have been asking me "are you EXCITED?" - maybe less of a question and more of a statement. Well yes and no. I'm sure the natural beauty of Alaska is something else - or so I'm told. And I do like nature. Love Switzerland's Alps and Glacier National Park's winding roads and Ireland's cliffs.

But what is fascinating obsessing me more these days is the cruise itself. I've never been on a cruise ship before - unless you count the overnight ferry from Italy to Greece where I slept on the floor with my backpacking buddies. I've been on river "cruises" - a three-hour tour. A three-hour tour. But never a floating hotel.

I'm not really a cruise person. That I know of. While people I know have been on many cruises - mostly Caribbean and warm weather - it's not necessarily a vacation I would choose for myself. I'm used to hauling my bag from hotel to hotel. Struggling to lift it onto a train (sometimes as it pulls out of the station). Packing and unpacking at each destination. Relearning my surroundings every few days. Finding decent restaurants. Walking miles between monuments.

Hmmm....might be a nice change of pace.

Bordeaux

It's that time of the week - injecting a little geographic exploration into an otherwise sedentary life.

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There comes a time in everyone's life when they get that phone call from their parents. "We're retiring to..." Boca Raton? Warm weather. Early Bird Specials. There's something to be said for that.

My mother and stepfather who lived in England for several years (he's British) called me several years back to announce their plans.

"Bordeaux".
"As in France?".
"Yes, they have nice wine there. And good weather. And good health care."

Fine by me!

They have spent the past few years in their new home mostly renovating it. It's a nice old farmhouse that really reminded you of, well, a farmhouse. Rustic sink. Barn. That sort of stuff. It is now a lovely house with a gourmet kitchen and an upstairs suite for visitors.

Instead of the trek to the $5.95 buffet that I would be making if they lived in Florida, I'm trekking down the hill to the wine co-op to fill our 10 liter jug with the village red. Life is good!

The first time I met my husband he overheard me at a party talking about how my mother was moving to Bordeaux. He interrupted the conversation, injecting "what?! why aren't you there now?!".

A couple of years later when I brought him to meet my parents I thought he would dump me afterwards - he got his trip to Bordeaux, what did he need me for after that? Instead, he proposed. Guess he wasn't sufficiently scared off by my mother. Maybe he was too drunk to notice. Maybe he figured he could someday inherit a farmhouse in France and retire there.




Where will you be retiring to?

Guantanamo Bay

It's that time of the week - injecting a little geographic exploration into an otherwise sedentary life.

In the past five years, the phrase "Guantanamo Bay" has taken on new connotations. I grew up knowing its nickname Gitmo, more recently it has been dubbed Camp X-Ray (one of three detention camps contained in the naval base).

To me it is terra firma - the place of my birth. During the Vietnam War, Dad was given the choice of a tour in Southeast Asia or a stint (with his family) at the naval hospital at Gitmo. Obviously he chose the latter. The better choice, anyone would agree. I am a US citizen by birth, eligible to run for President - as much as John McCain is.

My passport merely reads "Cuba" - no specific location that might explain the circumstances of my birth. Upon returning to the US from travels abroad I am occasionally asked how I obtained my citizenship, or for how long I've held it. Try answering that question intelligibly with jet lag.

The stories from those years were both humorous and scary. A sort of gallows humor I suppose. 98 degrees on Christmas Day, cockroaches nearly as big as your hand. Bored drunken soldiers driving over land crabs in a game called "crunch crunch".

These days the name doesn't conjure up quite the same feelings. While my curiosity about the place has not waned, it has taken on a new dimension. I no longer wear the cool t-shirt emblazoned with "Guantanamo" and a red star that my friend made for my birthday years ago.

I always got strange looks when I told people where I was born. The strange looks are now followed by a solemn, "oh".

Did you know they have a Starbucks? Seems prying detainees with a venti latte is an effective means of interrogation.

Easter Special

This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory.

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For the better part of 40 years my family and I have attended the same church in the West Village in New York. Even through the years where we lived in Connecticut and had to drive an hour each way to attend, this was the place we always came back to. My brother and sister attended nursery school here, we protested the exclusion of gays in the clergy, we mourned members killed on September 11th .

Our sermons were full of anti-nuclear, care for the poor, anti-Reagan, pro-peace messages. It never occured to me that these were not the sermons everyone else heard on Sunday.

Being in Greenwich Village in the 1980's ours was also a place that saw AIDS early on. The first person interred in the columbarium was Louis who died from AIDS - one of the last times I saw him in the choir he was wearing a rainbow-colored wig to cover his bald head. Despite the death around us, this was a place full of life.

This Easter Sunday, we came back. Nearly all of us. My sister, little brother, Mom and Dad (who are divorced) - we were missing my older brother who lives just a little too far away. It was great. It was home.

And as on every Easter Sunday, the organist ended the service with the Toccata from Symphony 5 by Widor. Enjoy.

People Have Flown in from All Over the World for Me

Loved

For more Singular Saturdays go visit Jenn in Holland.

Oy Danny Boy

This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory.

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Mom is a huge James Galway fan. James and his Golden Flute. Sounds fairly pornographic to me.

A couple of years ago I had the opportunity to attend one of his concerts - my husband was reviewing and he always gets two tickets. I like James Galway enough - and it wasn't one of his Irish concerts, it was a Mozart flute concerto with the National Symphony Orchestra. Don't get me wrong - I like Irish music. I just tend to like it played in a smaller venue with beer and dancing.

The concert was wonderful. The crowd loved him. He came out to do an encore - and what should it be but "Danny Boy". My husband asked me what song it was (ironic since that's his name).

Like a dutiful daughter I stood in line after the concert to get an autographed CD for Mom - written out especially to Marilyn. She opened it up on Christmas Day, clearly excited with a squeal that crossed the ocean.

Thanks Mom for giving me the little bit of Irish that I have.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Lucha VaVoom!

This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory.

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We just got back from LA where we hit both the high and low cultural points of this town.

For Valentine's day my husband and I joined my little brother and his girlfriend for Lucha VaVoom! A combination of Mexican masked wrestling and burlesque, this show was outstanding in its acrobatics and colorfulness. Wrestlers dressed as chickens and nurses, women (and sometimes men) performing denuding feats that only years of wasted time could produce. Truly astonishing. A memorable performance all around. And some heart-racing music played at full volume.

I leave you with this short clip of the night's festivities...

More on Lucha VaVoom! and other highlights later this week...

Kiss Them!

I came home today to this in my mailbox. Not only does it indicate that spring is a mere 6 weeks away, it shows last night's primary results.

I'm not going to promote one or the other - they are both clearly liked by a number of states and voters. In fact, one won more states, one won more delegates. Reminders of 2000.

Alas, I was not part of yesterday's frenzy - that is next week - but my family was! My dad tried to caucus in his new hometown but hadn't registered in time - but he really did try! And as luck would have it, the polling place was his favorite bookstore. Gotta love that.

My sister, brother, and mother all voted in the first ever global primary. Not sure how many delegates that is and who exactly those people are. And if any of them count. No matter, they voted! Kiss them!

Super Tuesday in Jakarta

(notice there are more cameras than voters)

Oops I Did It Again!

I made onto Looking Into again!

I made a distinct effort over Christmas to take photos that were something more than documentary. Denver really leant itself to artistic photos - mostly taken by my husband.

I especially like this particular photo (that I took!) of the Denver train station because I love to travel and travel by rail is one of my fondest childhood memories.

And now with lots of travel expected in the new year I will continue to look for those "Looking Into" kind of shots. Except for airports where armed guards usually attack you if you try snapping a photo. Will avoid that.

Denver Debrief

Here's a quick recap of our holiday trip to Denver (Dad's new home):

1. went to Tattered Covered Bookstore. If you love old bookstores with tables for reading and a yummy coffee, this is the place for you.


2. went to Denver Art Museum - with new wing designed by Daniel Libeskind. Just an aside, while working in Zambia for 3 weeks last year I saw a documentary on this famed architect about 10 times. Great museum, great museum restaurant too.


3. went to Red Rocks Ampitheatre - in whipping winds. Stunning. Would LOVE to see a concert there (during summer)


4. went to Museum of Contemporary Art. interesting.


5. spent holidays with family - played Wii with 7-year olds. Butt kicked thoroughly. will practice for rematch.

And of course we did other things - shopped, ate, survived snowstorm. Highly recommend the city. We'll be back in August.

Rocky Mountain High

This post brought to you by Soccer Mom in Denial - posting every Monday on a different musical memory.
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Growing up with older siblings, my musical taste was heavily influenced by the records (LPs, big black disks) that my brother and sister would get for Christmas.

I very clearly remember a string of years with Donny & Marie (particularly the year of the purple rag look), Shaun Cassidy (red and white striped t-shirt, Da Do Ron Ron) and John Denver (Greatest Hits). These gifts were specifically given to my sister, but in a house where there was one turntable, everyone listened to these records.

I'm over Donny & Marie - not sure that I ever really was under them. And my Shaun Cassidy crush probably lasted all of a month. To this day, I am still in love with John Denver. Sadly, he was killed in a plane crash - ironic given that one of his most famous songs was about leaving on a (jet) plane.

Take Me Home Country Roads - who could love West Virginia so much?
Leaving on a Jet Plane - the saddest song about leaving a loved one.
Sunshine on My Shoulders - I vaguely remember this being sung on The Muppet Show
Rocky Mountain High - I'm in love with Colorado, a place I only ever briefly visited

and finally, Annie's Song. One of the most beautiful love songs ever. Sadly, he and Annie split, but it's still magical. "You fill up my senses." Sigh.

Tante Ily's Hazelnut Cake

Today is my sister's birthday - I won't say her age but I will say she looks a lot younger than that number. Where she is right now is December 14th - if I wait to post this I'll miss the birthday, so bear with me on the advance posting.

In honor of my birthday this year she posted some photos she knew I would like. As my talents don't lie in photography, I won't be doing the same. However, I would like to share with her (and everyone else in the blogosphere) a cake recipe. This recipe (along with many others) was given to me by Tante Caroline as a wedding gift. The original recipe comes from Tante Ily (Caroline's aunt) - the best baker I have ever had the pleasure to know.

Happy Birthday Jenn - hope to share this cake with you in person soon!
(keep in mind that Caroline speaks in colorful terms - not very precise but pretty!)

Hazelnut Cake with Chocolate or Mocha Cream Frosting
(The Mocha cream frosting is the preferred, but I have not a foolproof recipe for you - I, too experiment each time. So, use the chocolate; it is the same as for Sacher. Or be courageous and try Julia Child's reicpe.....)

(for two large cake tins, buttered and floured)

1lb. Hazelnuts (almonds are good too), some oven roasted*, ground
1T. finely roasted coffee
2 1/2 c. veryfine sugar ("verifine" = is between granular and powdered)
12 eggs (separated)
apricot or red currant jelly, sugar, schnapps

Oven set at 350 degrees F

Beat 1/2 the sugar into yolks till bubbly (use some vanilla sugar if possible***)

Beat whites with 1/4 cream of tartar (to stabilize the whites) - or use pinch of salt. Add in the rest of sugar and beat till smooth and glossy.

Probably using a large salad bowl, combine gently folding the yolk mixture with the whites and the ground nuts

Spread into cake tins and bake for 25-30 min.? May need a bit much longer? Test again with wooden cake tester till comes out moist, not wet. (just did this one recently and as this is an increased recipe, the timing is no longer valid)

Dump onto rack, slice with floss, glaze (as in Sacher recipe) topsides. Assemble. Allow to cool well and frost.

The chocolate = as in Sacher recipe. Or, look into Julia Child for the Mocha. This, too, keeps long in the icebox, without mouse intervention.

*To roast hazelnuts: place on oven cookie sheet in a hot oven and allow to bake till the skins start to split. Keep roasting till nut meats gain a nice "suntan". Remove from oven and put out to cool (winter window is best as the skins virtually pop off). Then roll them around between your hands to help some more of the skins off. Outdoors, then blow away the loose skins., the nut meats remain. Not all skins are gone but a lot. Do this with a generous handful of the total and you will achieve a wonderful aroma. Then grind all nuts, preferably in old hand mill, you know the type you clamp-screw to the table. These are the finest (your nuts are acting in place of flour) results - the bought ground nuts are rougher and haven't got the roasted quality. As we are dealing with a true T. Ily recipe....you might have fun training your store-bought-cake friends (do young slim career people still eat cake?) to experience what really good ingredients can amount up to (No baking powder! No flavor enhancers! No emulsifiers, no coloring, no preservatives - hey, what have we got here?)

**Vanilla sugar can be purchased, is, however, usually not quite the real thing - and WE don't accept "Vanillin" (Dr. horrible Oetker's substitute for real Bourbon Vanilla), do we! So, buy yourself a couple of vanilla beans - expensive, but cheap in the long run. Slit them open lengthwise. Scratch the black soft center out and use it for a nice vanilla pudding or vanilla sauce for over fruit, etc. Then take a tin or jar with lid and fill with the "verifine" sugar and the scratched-out bean hulls. After just a week, but for months to come, the entire sugar will serve as vanilla sugar - but the real thing.
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[I made this cake using the mocha frosting from Julia Child - yummy! The Sacher recipe for the glaze is just spreading the jelly on the cake while it is hot so it's absorbed by the cake. And I think that's 1/4 teaspoon of cream of tartar for the egg whites. You also might want to line the tins with parchment paper. Good luck!]

Would You Trust This Man?

I just got a new job (yay!) - sort of. As with any number of jobs in DC, you first have to go through a security clearance. I've been through this before as has my husband so it's no big deal - I'll pass. Unfortunately, I can't even enter the building until the temporary clearance comes through - it will be several weeks. Ugh.

Here's the thing - they want info on my family - particularly my stepfather (the dashing guy above) and his children. My stepmother is of little interest, if any. What makes the man in the kilt so fascinating is that he's a foreign national. British citizen. Allegiance to the Queen and all.

They're probably checking this blog so be careful what you say. I tend to think if I send them a photo of the kilt they'll speed up my clearance. I bet Gunfighter would back me up on this.

Books Are Free

"Until I feared I would lose it, I never loved to read. One does not love breathing." - Scout Finch, To Kill A Mockingbird

In our house, full of many children and limited funds (all spent on education), there was one thing that was always free. Books.

You could beg beg beg for clothes or records or toys and pray your hardest that Santa, the Easter Bunny, or the Birthday Fairy would bring them. And they might. You could beg beg beg mom and dad every time you went into a store - "oh please please please can I have it". And you might get it.

The one place you never had to beg was the bookstore. Books were free. They didn't fall under any limit. They were "extra-budgetary" as the federal bean counters might say.

Summer evenings on Cape Cod in a house with no TV we listened to baseball games on the radio and read. Our favorite bookstore - The Compass Rose - kept us in good supply. I miss that place. It had a feel to it that no other place had.

When I went in there with my parents it was FREE.



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This is part of the DAY TO READ campaign:

January 10, 2008 has been designated as the DAY TO READ.

On that day we join the collective challenge to spend some time with our noses stuck in it. A book that is. If you are a blogger, join us by stepping away from the keyboard for all or part of the day and spend that time reading something you enjoy.

Next, report to us (check out Jenn in Holland or Gunfighter - this guy reads EVERYTHING) and others what you've read. You can do this in a dedicated post or a comment at Allison's blog--Soccer Mom in Denial--after the DAY TO READ has passed.

Post the DAY TO READ button at your blog. Pass it on! The button, the news about the day, the challenge to others to read, read, read, read, read!

Leave me your suggestions for books to read - not sure what I'm interested in? Check here and here.

That's it. Make DAY TO READ a Happily Ever After kind of event.