21.1.10

as it is written

I have a great lasagna recipe that I copied from my sis. It's dead easy, and three outta four family members agree that it tastes really, really good. (the fourth? sigh... she was SUCH a good eater when she was a baby. I thought it was gonna be easy. What happened??)
The only issue I have with this recipe is that it encourages dissension. If I make it with anybody else around, I have to contend with comments from the naysayers. I spend the entire casserole construction time calmly reassuring the nonbelievers.
"you don't precook your noodles...?!"
"350F won't cook that in an hour"
"that's not enough noodle layers"
And then everyone enjoys dinner (except the fourth) with incredulous comments about how good it is. Yes, it is.
Your welcome. And next time, just trust in the recipe.

7.1.10

channelling my Grup*

When my Mom was my age, I was in my mid-teens. At that age she was as foreign to me as... umm well... as a foreigner! We lived in different worlds, more so then than any other time in our lives I believe.

I don't really know what she was busy with. Like I said I was in my mid-teens and very busy being a teenager. Great job, great boyfriend, great happy music (it was after all the 80s). My band of choice? The Police, of course. And anything alternative, edgy, funky. It was New Wave for me mostly; no mainstream Top 40 for this music snob. My Mom? Who knows... I do recall a Children's Protest against Zamfir, this pan flute player. My Mom and her friends had a couple of albums of his and it got so bad that me and my sisters started chanting "Down with Zamfir! Down with Zamfir!" to drown it out whenever she had the audacity to put it on. My Dad listened to classical or marching bands and at one time wanted to get Muzak piped into the house. I kid you not.

We had such different musical tastes, to say the very least.

I still listen to alternative music. And when my daughter was 2 yrs old she exclaimed 'Mummy, it's Weeeeeezer!!' one day from the backseat. I know there's no equivalent interaction between me and my Mom. Oh, now wait... maybe there is. My first album as a child was Andy Williams when I was six, apparently. (I used to croon Moon River.) But my kids tell ME to turn the volume down in the car because they're trying to read. (They're 12 and 10; yes I know this will all change...)

We still listen to music from the 80s... the equivalent would be me listening to Top 40 from 1961. Yeah, that just NEVER happened.

Does this mean that one day my daughter will sigh, roll her eyes and protest "enough Metric already Mum!"?

*A grown-up in the minority, finding themselves among younger people. Coined by Adrian Spies, writer of the Star Trek episode featuring a post-apocalyptic world where only teenagers survived.
It's a kid's game chiefly, but you can find grups playing too.

29.12.09

Blaze

This is the reason why this blog has become quieter:

his name is Blaze
and he's a Portuguese Water Dog

We brought him home Nov 6, 2009 when he was eight weeks old. So things have been different in this house. Which I'm so happy about -- I've wanted a dog for a long, long time.


17.12.09

no more

How wrong is it that I don't like Christmas songs? I own maybe a dozen, and by early Dec I walk out of the stores that are playing the songs realizing I've been grinding my teeth. I keep hoping that maybe one year they won't drive me nuts, but this year I'm owning my sense of guilt - my bahhumbug - and am deciding as of today I shan't be ashamed anymore.

Admittedly I don't really 'get into' a lot about the holidays. I mean, I like making goodies (I make some mean chocolates if I do say so myself) and I like getting gifts for family and friends. And I like winter and snow and little twinkling lights on fresh snow. But ALL the cutesy penguins and snowmen and lawn ornaments ... not so much. Is one person's cute another's tacky? I don't know. How else to explain all those damn blowup Santas...?

I think my problem with the music is I have an excruciatingly short span between liking a new song and feeling it's overplayed. I actually turn the radio off in the car if I've heard a new Coldplay song for instance more than once. Because I know that I'm going to buy the CD and don't want to wear the music out before I thoroughly enjoy it.

And let's face it, holiday music is so very well worn out.


10.10.09

family trees and frustration

I've been dabbling in genealogy for years, and have a fairly detailed family tree now. It's interesting; simply pondering sometimes what my 93-year-old Grandma-in-law has seen in her lifetime is mind-boggling.

On this family tree, I apparently have a great-grandfather who was Scottish. From the Blair Athol clan the story goes, which is in the Perthshire region of Scotland. Well, when we were visiting Great Britain this past spring, we'd be travelling through the Perthshire region... and we had to of course go and see Blair Castle.

We discussed with our kids what the grand overall plan for the trip was, and when it was appropriate we let them know where we'd be going soon, or the next day, or whatever. For some reason my son seemed to believe that we'd be staying in Blair castle. That it was his ancestral home or some such nonsense and we'd be tossing the present owners out while we took over the castle. Had to set him straight on that one.

On the day that we were to visit Blair Castle, we started out in Inverness and were to make it all the way to Edinburgh that evening. Not too tight a schedule, but we had to keep moving mind you.

In the morning we visited Culloden Battlefield visitor centre, which was opened in 2008. Wonderful, modern, enticing museum all about the last civil battle on British soil. While it wasn't exactly my cuppa tea ~~ I find my interest in war details wanes quicker than most ~~ it was an excellent museum. It even had GPS-linked audio guides for you to walk around the actual battlefield. Very cool. But I had to make sure we kept to our schedule if we were going to visit the oh-so-important Blair castle before we got to Edinburgh. (not to mention Crieff, but that's another story)

Finally we get to the Blair Athol region and wow, there's quite a queue of cars! ...oh, but it's okay, they're going to the highland games right next door and not going into the castle proper. But we are! Which is too bad in a way, because those highland games look like fun...

We get inside, and some nice greeter happens to ask us just what brings us... hmm, the accent is not quite American... are we perhaps Canadians? to the castle. Joe thumbs towards me and says 'she has Blair ancestors' ... whereas the nice Scottish gentleman turns to me and ever so slightly apologetically (after all, we've already paid to enter) confesses that the Blair castle is actually in the Murray clan.

The Murray clan owns Blair castle.
Not the Blairs.

I'm sure my disappointement showed on my face, but we accepted the nice gentleman's Kids Quiz to complete whilest touring Blair castle and trooped off.

Picture the most boring, staid, stuffy home. Hunting rifles and antlers on display everywhere. Now picture curling, ancient-fonted paper labels of the hundreds and hundreds of utterly useless artifacts displayed. Oh, but there's more: the Incredibly Difficult Kids Quiz to complete!

Which had as one of its objectives to Find the Highlander. Midst all the clutter, in every single room, there was hidden a Scottish figurine, about one-and-a-half inches in height. On windowsills or behind bed legs or on lintels. And the kids were not going to finish the tour until every one of those highlanders was found...! Maeve was almost in tears one time because we were forcing her to leave one room without having found the little... well, I tracked a guide down and asked very calmly between clenched teeth just please where is the little *&$#! in this room??

Skip ahead forty-five minutes, we enter the ever-present-at-the-end-of-every-tour gift shoppe so the kids can hand in their completed quiz and claim their prize (a lolly, a pencil... those were some of the previous spoils). However when they hand over this quiz they are cheerfully informed that their names will be put in the bin and one lucky winner will be notified at the end of the month. Did they make sure to include their address and phone number??

So now we're all grumbling. Joe because I've dragged him away from the fantastic museum at Culloden, me because we've just wasted precious travelling time by visiting this castle. And the kids now because they've busted their haunches finding that damn highlander and answering all the oblique questions throughout this dustbin only to find out that there wasn't any reward at the end. Oh, and everyone was hungry.

Joe and I both had booze with our lunches at the Blair Castle cafe.

I titled this The Most Frustrating Day of the Trip in my journal that evening.

But wait, the irony has another layer. One that was slathered on only once we'd been home for months.

In the process of transferring data between computers recently I tidied up some of my genealogy files and happened to get curious one evening. It's been years since I collected any more data, and this internet has grown a lot in the interim. I decided to look up some names online.

I found some British censuses, and on one my great-grandfather is listed. With his place of birth, hereto unknown to me. But now I know that my great-grandfather is not Scottish. Nay, for this census lists his place of birth as ... London.

As is his father's. And... the neighbourhood in London in which at least two generations of my family lived, worked and died was mere blocks from where we picked up our rental car. I could've walked over to the church where my great-grandfather was christened. Instead we... well, you know what we did. I won't mention it again.

So as it stands right now, my family tree has no Scottish ancestors. Which is too bad, because I certainly loved the country...

23.9.09

tuxedo mousse


When my daughter was about three-years-old we were out for dinner with friends. She had ordered a dessert called Tuxedo Mousse, which were layers of milk, dark and white chocolate mousse. As the server walked away she leaned over and whispered loudly

"d'you know what part of the mousse I'm gonna eat first, Mummy?"

As I shook my head she, with a smile of anticipation, proudly announced

"the antlers"

I was lucky enough to not have anything - especially liquid - in my mouth or else I would've christened everyone at the table I'm sure... She still remembers this incident (or so she says) and every once in a while brings it up.

Good. Times.

Yummy yummy antlers.


21.9.09

smile through

There's a line from the song Smile:


... smile through your fear and sorrow


that ran around my head today. I also have just DO it as my personal internal mantra during tough times. I realize it's been used elsewhere, don't worry I have a little TM superscripted in my head too.


I used to think that the whole idea of just pushing through something, of smiling now and things will get better later was simply a way of ignoring the pain or anxiety. I now see the value of just getting through, of taking a deep breath and jumping off or running through. You learn - by experiencing it directly - that you can get through something uncomfortable and survive till that next day.


It's one thing doing it yourself. It's another whole ball of wax to watch one of your children experience it themselves. This has been, by far, the toughest part of being a Mum. Hopefully I'm able to provide some guidance so he's not left to fend for himself like I was.


(don't worry, gin helps)





Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though it's breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You'll see the sun come shining through for you

Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near
That's the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile