tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61483575810206154132024-03-13T07:39:06.498-07:00Not-A-BoxAitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.comBlogger109125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-62440429969037693342010-12-01T12:12:00.001-08:002010-12-01T12:20:06.094-08:00No strings...IIIIIII've got no strings to hold me down, to make me laugh, to make me frown! I've got no strings to hold me down, there are no strings on me!<br />~Pinocchio<br /><br />What a patently false statement. At least, it is now. Once though, I could go where I wanted, when I wanted (geographically, that is). Now? Not so much. Not by any malevolent force keeping me somewhere....but love. Strings of family, friends...things keeping me tied to where I am. My husband, my biological/marital family, and my chosen family (friends) all keeping me where I am...but I know that any of them would let me go somewhere else in a second, if that was what I really needed. It wouldn't be easy for anyone, but I feel safe in the knowledge that if it was what was best for me, it could happen.<br /><br />The strings that bind a New England girl to the area, especially an island girl, can be pretty tough ones to break. I tried Arizona for a year...not only was it an ENTIRELY different climate environmentally, but emotionally as well. The furthest I've been away for any length of time not including vacations is western Massachusetts. I can't stand the thought of being much further from home than that. And really, I know people say that home is where your mail goes, but for me, Harpswell will always be home. No matter where I go, those strings always pull me back...so maybe I do have strings to hold me down, after all....but the security of those strings allows me to soar in other ways.<br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-31796403462212261542010-11-24T14:23:00.000-08:002010-11-24T14:39:14.606-08:00Giving thanks...Welcome back to the madhouse, folks. <a href="http://katesaid.wordpress.com">Kate</a> has started up her weekly blog party again, so we'll see just how long I keep up with this.<div><br /></div><div>This week's party topic is giving, or thanks...your pick. I've decided that expository writing isn't quite up my alley this week (I'm in the middle of term paper hell) so instead, I give to you a list of things I'm grateful for. Some are slightly more trite than others, but nonetheless, the gratitude is there.</div><div><br /></div><div>-My husband. His love, caring, and support of me as I attend grad school at Tufts.</div><div>-My family, both biological and inlaws. </div><div>-My long time friends Kate and Lauren, and so grateful that Kate is still around...</div><div>-New friends made at grad school...</div><div>-My job. It isn't always the best, but I'm glad to be employed nonetheless.</div><div>-Chocolate.</div><div>-Cashmere.</div><div><br /></div><div>So..what are you thankful for?</div>Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-12163596893658195062010-06-20T13:41:00.001-07:002010-06-20T13:53:50.646-07:00Father's DayWow...almost a whole year since I've blogged. A hell of a lot has gone on, but that's for another time. This post? This one's about my dad...<br /><br />For those of you who know me pretty well, you'll already know a lot of this story. I'll do my darnedest to not turn this into a teal deer, but we'll see what happens...<br /><br />So, just a hair over 6 years ago, my father was in a nearly fatal accident. He had been riding his motorcycle when he was struck side-on by a car - a car whose driver didn't look both ways before entering the road, from what I gathered from the police report. The first information I got about the accident was wrong. The woman who was with the tow truck driver had decided to answer dad's cell phone, and told me that he had been driving without a license and had been taken in by the Brunswick cops. Turns out, PATENTLY false. Like, not even in the realm of reality. I called my sister, let her know that the woman who answered dad's phone said he was fine, just had been taken in for no license. Ok, fine. Then I get a phone call from dad's girlfriend. I needed to get home NOW, dad was in a coma and they weren't sure if he was going to make it through the night. I'm sorry, what now? After a few frantic phone calls, I found someone to drive me home to Maine (almost 4 hours) - I didn't dare try to drive myself. My best friend at the time, Matt, called while we were on the road to Maine. He insisted that my ride (my ex-boyfriend) drop me off at the hospital the next morning, and Matty would be along shortly thereafter to keep me company/keep me sane. Regardless of it being the last day of classes, and a hell of a long drive with no hockey game at the end, Matt ignored my protestations, repeated his instructions, and wished me luck for the rest of the ride.<br />Arriving at the hospital, I wasn't sure what to expect...How banged up would dad be? Would he be able to hear me at all? Anything? The doctors told me that if they could get him to 24 hours, they could get him to 48. If they could get him from 48 hours to 72 hours, he stood a good chance of surviving. What state he'd be in, we didn't know yet, but he'd be alive at least.Well, it's a start.<br />Days passed, countless hours spent watching monitors in his room, monitors that registered his blood pressure, his pulse, the pressure in his brain...everything. He'd had a traumatic brain injury, and no one was quite sure what was going to come next. (ok, going to skip a bit, no one needs to read the drama...and if you know me well enough, you know that a)I'm not a fan of the drama, and b)there was one HELL of a lot of drama)<br />Skip ahead 6 years and guess what? Dad's walking me down the aisle in August. My dad is one of the toughest, strongest men I know (and that's not just physical strength, though he's damned strong, too). He's overcome so much since his accident...yes, he has his days where you can absolutely tell he's had an accident (he gets tired easily, is a little shorter tempered, doesn't quite pick up on when my sister and I are being smartasses as quickly) and there are other days where he's almost right back to where he was pre-accident.<br />There are times, especially when he's having a bad day, where it's easy for me to sit an wallow in self pity, about how unfair it is my fiance and future kids won't ever know just how funny my dad was (he's still pretty funny though!), or exactly what he was like...but then again, they get to know him NOW, and that's the really important part.<br />Happy Father's day, Dad. I know you'll probably never read this, what with being anti-computer and all, but I love you more that you'll know.<br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-82125651653339383992009-08-19T14:37:00.000-07:002009-08-19T14:47:23.528-07:00Vacation...It's a funny thing, vacation. When I take time off from work, other than my usual 2 days per week, it goes under vacation. Whether or not it's actually a vacation, unless I'm sick, it's classified as vacation. A vacation for me picks up on the first part of the word vacation. Vacat(e) - get the hell outta dodge for a little while. My usual "vacation" involves sitting in the sunroom or laying in the hammock at Dan's mom's house. A nice quiet, restful time, filled with knitting, visiting friends and trips to Sully's (only the best breakfast spot *ever*). But my vacations rarely involve going somewhere I've never been or rarely go, and staying in a hotel. Until last year.<br /><br />Last year Kate and I decided to take a girls only trip somewhere. Didn't much matter where, just somewhere. We batted around various ideas, and settled on Martha's Vineyard. Close enough that we can drive down in a few hours, but far enough away that we're pretty well removed from our normal lives. We did the requisite wandering of the island, visiting a few different beaches, seeing the lighthouse at Menemsha, and some reasonably ok fireworks in Oak Bluffs. Also,we can't forget the piggies! We saw little baby pigs racing for an oreo at the ag fair...certainly an interesting sight, to be sure. We wandered hither and yon (sometimes in search of a bus stop, sometimes because we felt like it), and overall had a lovely time. There were thoughts of going again, then November hit Kate like a ton of bricks, and the thought was out (of my head, anyway..)<br /><br />After an evening in which we discussed some of the finer points of lace knitting (shuddup, you're not a knitter, you wouldn't understand! ;) Kate mentioned that she hadn't picked up the lace project she was working on on Martha's Vineyard since we got back. I offhandedly said we must need to go again, then. About 10 seconds later, we decided we were going again. I had planned ahead this year for Martha's Vineyard and Rhinebeck, and had been squirreling away my pennies for just such a day, so I was able to put down the hotel fee upfront.<br /><br />Months passed, we talked about going, and now it's here! We leave Friday, and I, for one, can't wait. Given the unlikelihood of going next year (between new arrivals on Kate's end and getting married next August for me), I'm oh, so glad we're able to do it this year. But regardless of anything, there's always Rhinebeck.....<br /><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden"><!--Session data--><input onclick="jsCall();" id="jsProxy" type="hidden"><div id="refHTML"></div>Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-48000212629307516472009-07-03T05:30:00.000-07:002009-07-03T05:33:15.186-07:00maple balsamic vinagretterecorded so I can't forget/lose it...<br /><br />2 parts balsamic vinegar (doesn't have to be expensive, just good...Newman's Organic is delightful for this)<br />1 part olive oil<br />fresh thyme<br />1-2T REAL maple syrup<br /><br />pour vinegar into a large measuring cup. Stream oil in slowly while whisking vigorously to combine. Whisk in maple syrup and chopped thyme. YUM! Awesome over strawberries...Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-25038969050109918142009-06-10T15:22:00.000-07:002009-06-10T15:23:45.277-07:00*snort*straight from the boy's mouth to the blog:<br />(in reference to some terrific pasta/salad bowls that were bought at Ikea, and of which only 1 still survives...)<br />me: I don't think they're that fragile...I think we're just clumsy.<br />boy: They are fragile. I am as dexterous as a cat...a cat with no thumbs and wet, soapy paws....I am as dexterous as a cat.Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-83449999045703164692009-05-25T17:34:00.000-07:002009-05-25T17:35:58.251-07:00Thank you...Just a little spot to send out a quiet, cosmic thank you to the service men and women out there...Special thoughts to: Grandpa, Uncle Don, Joe, Bill, Eric, Annie, Jeff, Stephen, and the GMC guys. I'm grateful for each and everyone one of you!Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-90026300300491298422009-05-20T17:38:00.000-07:002009-05-20T17:48:10.138-07:00What is normal, anyway?!Normal...such a nice, bland sounding word. A word that implies that all is how it should be, even keeled and without need of change. But sometimes things change without your permission...and then you need to get a new normal. When my dad moved out? Total shift in what normal became. Dinner as a family became fend for yourself night on a regular basis (fend for yourself night was AWESOME. Eat whatever you wanted for dinner, whenever you decided you were hungry.) Going away to school senior year? Definite new normal needed (life with roommates, no control over most meals, enforced study hours...). Going away to college? Same thing. The biggest new normal for me has been my dad. About 5 years ago he was in a serious accident, leaving him in a drug induced coma for weeks, and leaving a whole bunch of scar tissue on his brain. The man my father is today is not the man he was even seconds before the accident. That's not to say that he's entirely different, but there are marked differences. He gets tired more easily, gets confused easily, and sometimes just isn't quite himself. The biggest change in normal for me is my mindset regarding him, though. It's taken me a while to come to terms with the realization that my soon to be husband and future children will not know the man I grew up with. They'll know Fred 2.0...and while that isn't necessarily a bad thing, I'll know the difference...but what's abnormal to me, will be perfectly normal to them...what is normal, anyway?!Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-59974102373340266212009-05-14T16:32:00.000-07:002009-05-14T16:40:23.689-07:00Someday..I'll get around to sifting out my recipes and putting them on an attached blog, or something, to differentiate from the knitting/random stuff blog topics. Until such time (which, let's face it, I'm lazy so....never), the subjects will remain mixed together.<br />Without further ado, here's a random smattering of what I've been up to, am listening to, etc...<br /><br />New music: The Johnnies debut album, the new Decemberists (both are amazing, get them NOW)<br /><br />Knitting projects: pay no attention to the column to the right of your screen. It's full of lies. Also, I'm working on other stuff.<br /><br />I'm currently on a muffin baking kick. It might be just a one day kick, but it's a reasonably epic one...4 different kinds of muffins today, all with different batters. Blueberry, lemon raspberry, honey corn, and morning glory (my own take on them, though...no nuts or raisins, thankyouverymuch, but added some oats...subbed applesauce for 3/4 of the oil...came out AWESOME.)<br /><br />Dinner tonight was a take off of a fabulous pasta dish my uncle made last weekend. Whole wheat penne, tossed with: olive oil, shallots, garlic, asparagus, broccoli, carrots, spinach, chicken and sundried tomatoes. added a little dried thyme and kosher salt at the end. ohmygod. amazing.<br /><br />Other excitement: wedding planning is at a standstill, due entirely to laziness and end of the semester stuff for Dan, logged some quality baby time while K finished up a project, shoved my foot in my mouth regarding dinner with dad last night and a comment about unemployment to K (guh. studip studip studip....think, madigan. THINK.)<br /><br />So, yeah...nothing super exciting...off to watch game 7 of the Bruins/'Canes series....Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-77752351945143626962009-04-19T13:23:00.000-07:002009-04-19T13:34:26.024-07:00Just as sweet as they can be...As I've mentioned here before, Dan and I are extremely lucky to have a very special family in our lives...Kate, Willem, Jacob and Emily. Kate's always there just when I need her, and I hope I'm holding up my end of that as well! The boys talk math type things (Willem being a student of math, and Dan of computer science), and Kate and I talk knitting, and other such things. We could both certainly hold our own in the boys conversation, but since they would be hard pressed to keep up with discussions of patterns, fiber, and needle types, we leave them to their own ;)<br /><br />On Friday I had all 4 of my wisdom teeth taken out. Certainly not the most earth shattering of undertakings, but given that I've only been put under one other time, and certainly haven't had that level of trauma inflicted on a single part of my body before (no broken bones, etc), it's really knocked me for a loop. Mornings find me looking like a chipmunk and in a fair bit of pain, which tapers off with the first handful of Advil.<br /><br />Kate and I had planned to have lunch today (I was looking forward to eating something not orange...orange powerade and orange sherbert have been the standard fare for the last couple of days), but instead I opted to stay home curled up with my ice packs and pain killers. Kate asked if I would be awake this afternoon, and cryptically said that she'd be dropping by. What a great cryptic drop by it was, too. Frozen goodies picked out by Kate and the kids, hugs all around, and some ungodly lovely yarn (which will just HAVE to be a cowl so I can snuggle into it on cold days, rather than looking odd and just rubbing my face with wristers on...).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOM2gIMSwX_9mTsdkV9AWhc-9MbIMdEDP0lPqTFcqxlu1Ig4CyTLLTxHBDbG95xavcUatMngG0ppPESd8HwTqS0F7bErpRowQnKn2x8IeHK_EJeipJ2xtwBzkFJNJHM34rpBgyT_qMi6Q/s1600-h/IMG_0245.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOM2gIMSwX_9mTsdkV9AWhc-9MbIMdEDP0lPqTFcqxlu1Ig4CyTLLTxHBDbG95xavcUatMngG0ppPESd8HwTqS0F7bErpRowQnKn2x8IeHK_EJeipJ2xtwBzkFJNJHM34rpBgyT_qMi6Q/s200/IMG_0245.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326503265970168722" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I'm feeling better already....Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-25276695814603996512009-04-13T05:54:00.000-07:002009-04-13T05:59:27.089-07:00knitting lista list of current wips. trying to clear these out before starting anything else new (especially since these are all, for the most part, 1 or 2 steps away from being finished!)<br /><br />-Fetchings for Mom - lengthen thumbs, different bind off<br />-Tessie for mom<br />-pink baby sweater - 1.5 sleeves from being done<br />-Arwen - just needs seaming! (send to mom Pineo?)<br />-thrummed mittens - mom - lengthen first thumb, finish second mitten<br />-Atlantique socks - me (purse project, no hurry)<br /><br />The queue:<br />-Black cardigan (technically already started...good mindless knitting)<br />-wedding shawl (yarn bought, and needles, and pattern...cast on!)<br />-Apres surf hoodie<br />-tempest<br /><br /><br />Ok. lets see how much of that top list I can get through in the next couple of weeks....Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-70751364089646522552009-04-08T10:58:00.001-07:002009-04-08T11:37:41.141-07:00Rivalry...it's not just for siblings anymore!No, I'm not going to talk about how my sister and I just plain don't get along. There's no perceived slight there, by the way, we're just different critters who happen to be genetically related. Anyway. Nope, this is about sports rivalries...to wit, college sports rivalries. I could wax poetic about Red Sox vs Yankees, but it's trite, and been done. No, instead I'm going to talk about the best rivalry I've ever experienced...the University of Arizona vs Arizona State University.<br /><br />Arriving on campus for the first time, you go through something of a genetic change: "Welcome to the University of Arizona. Here's your ID. You now hate ASU." and it's true! Coming from Maine, I could care less about the rivalry. They didn't mean much to me. UMaine vs UNH? Sure, I could get behind that one. But U of A vs ASU? Whatever! Well, that certainly didn't last long. That rivalry was used in EVERYTHING, most notably the U of A vs ASU blood donor challenge. Yep, the Red Cross got in on the act, too! There was an enormous leader board in the middle of the campus mall, where there was a running tally kept of the number of pints of blood donated by each school. If U of A fell behind, you would hear conversations about how we couldn't let ASU win, and let's go donate blood! Really, it's genius marketing.<br /><br />When I moved back to the East Coast (sorry, Arizona...I'm just a New England girl at heart!) to finish school, I was sorely disappointed to find that my new university (UMass Amherst) had NO rival to speak of. I mean, there's the usual pseudo-Yankees style rivalry with Boston College (I love two teams...my team, and whomever beats BC), but that's about it. I'm sure most of it stems from a serious lack of school spirit and no real powerhouse sport (Sorry, Coach!)As a huge sports fan, this was greatly disappointing to me. <br /><br />I understand that a rivalry isn't all there is to sports, but it sure as hell makes it more fun!Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-24872012397691832432009-03-17T19:11:00.000-07:002009-03-17T19:23:35.771-07:00Friends[This week's carnival topic from Kate is friends...here we go!]<br /><br />Friends are a funny thing...there are times when you think you have tons of them, but you don't, and there are times when you think you are totally alone in the world, and turns out? Lots of folks want to be your friend. I could go into something here about how high school sucked, and blah blah blah. But, no. It's old, tired, and frankly, I'm on vacation and don't feel like writing about downer kinds of stuff...<br />Instead, I'll write something else. Maybe, how just when you think you know everything there is to know about someone, they'll come out with something totally random that you had no idea about, and it's awesome. A full blown, "me too!" moment. People often surprise me that way; chatting with Dan in the car about cartoons, then both of us revealing that we loved watching Samurai Jack while in college, Sara declaring yesterday that my ultimate pizza sounds awesome (pepperoni, mushrooms and pineapple...yes, all at the same time!), or my cousins Bryan and Jesse just being the other 2/3rds of my brain.<br />Most of all, though, there's people who will just sit there with you while you totally lose it, know you and your moods so well that they can tell when you're having an off day before you even know what's wrong, and don't mind when you're all sniffly and red faced. Other than the man I'm marrying, and blood relatives, I can count on one hand the number of people who I can count on to see me through those dark hours. [and I think you know who you are!]<br />As I grow older, I remember how easy friendships were when I was young. Marie coming over and the both of us getting covered in strawberry juice; riding bikes with Nate and Joey, heading to the beach with Gina, Trina and the rest of the Orr's Island crew...those friendships were easy, and innocent. Both sets of parents knew, if Joey or I weren't at home, it was a pretty good bet we were at the other's house. We'd just hang out, ride bikes, play on the computer...<br />As I got a little older, my friendships changed, but mostly by virtue of whom I was friends with, but not the scope of the friendships. The theater/music gang I hung out with (Aaron (big brother), Cathy, Kurt, Derek, Shannon, Steve, John...)..we'd stay up all night in Aaron's folks basement playing video games, d&d and elfquest...again, totally innocent, and our parents never had any reason to doubt that.<br />One wonderful thing that has remained a constant is how easy my true friendships are. They're still just as unassuming, unwavering, and uncomplicated as they were when I was young, they're just with a different set of people. Only, now, I'm not willing to let those move on...at least not yet. And hopefully not ever...Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-1027876039738922232009-03-11T05:31:00.000-07:002009-03-11T05:41:16.080-07:00Generational Hand-me-downsMy mother's family came over from Ireland before the Famine. They came through Castle Gardens, not Ellis Island, and, as there was a huge fire on Ellis Island where most of the Castle Gardens records were stored, we can't find anything out from there. Unless, of course, they came through Boston, and routed down to NYC. Hard telling, not knowing.<br />My grandpa Vinnie grew up in New York, was a newspaperman, and served in the Army. I have shadowy recollections of his house, and firmly believe he watches over me...mom was his favorite child, and I was her oldest, so I became his favorite too, by extension. I feel a certain attachment to things that were his, or were in his house. I have the usual assortment of hand-me-down furniture (my desk, both bureaus, and my china and silver which is in storage). I look quite a bit like my grandfather, from what I've been told, having both his nose and his chin, and his affinity for strong black coffee. I've got the Irish wit, blessedly not the temper so much, and am a huge fan of Guinness. But, lest you think that's all there is to me, let's get Dad's side of the story...<br />Dad's family came to Harpswell sometime in the 1800s from Nova Scotia. We're a bit mutt, with Scotch, Welsh, some flavor of First Nations in us (I've heard varying reports of tribe and amount, but rest assured, the amount is so minimal as to be laughed at)..basically your usual assortment of exploring/conquering countries, and a little "folks who were already here" thrown in for good measure. My sister was always daddy's little girl, and I more closely related to mom. However, that seems to have switched as I've gotten older. I'm a lot more like my dad in temperament, and less like my mom and sister. I love them both dearly, but there are a lot of things that I just don't see eye to eye on with them, but am either in agreement with dad on, or can at least have a rational and spirited debate over them with him, both of us able to respect the other's opinion. (I don't always agree with him, but he usually has damn good reasons for doing something, which I have to respect. Not agree with, but respect.)<br />The next set of generational hand-me-downs that I'll get to observe will be my own children. Will they be like me? Like Dan? A combination of us both? Or will they be the reincarnation of one of my relatives? Only time will tell....Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-40411727223894535932009-02-28T08:52:00.000-08:002009-02-28T10:11:59.873-08:00and now for something completely different...Would you like to take a survey?<br />Do you like baked beans? Do you like George Wendt? Would you like to see a movie with George Wendt eating beans?<br /><br /><end><br /><br />Ok, no really. Do you like web comics? Do you like yarn? Did you answer yes to at least one of those? My friend <a href="http://valkryieknitthis.blogspot.com">Kelly</a>'s uber-talented husband is in a comic contest...surf on over to her site, tell her I sent you, and vote for her boy! (and while you're at it, visit her stash page on rav and pick out 2 yarns you like...if the RNG gods pick you, she'll send you one of them! All for just voting for her boy! whee!!)</end>Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-74696982520391107632009-02-25T05:25:00.000-08:002009-02-25T05:32:11.482-08:00Not in front of the children......but instead, loud enough so they can hear you all over the rest of the house. And no, it's not an even remotely fun activity I'm talking about here....it's yet another battle in the break up of my parents marriage. This one fight will probably stick with me forever, that's how vividly I remember it. The time and day, I couldn't tell you, but what my sister and I experienced is still very clear.<br /><br />I have absolutely no idea what they were fighting about this time...money? maybe. dad cheating? quite possibly. There were shouts of "Fuck you" back and forth. My sister's room was directly above theirs, and we could hear every shout. I couldn't take away the words she was hearing (she was 10, I was almost 13), and all I could do was hold her as she sobbed. Then it occurred to us, maybe they're yelling because of us. So quiet as mice we crept downstairs and did the dishes and put laundry in, and tried to be as perfect as we could, convinced that our doing chores around the house without being asked would stop the fighting. (Our folks had yet to have the "mom and dad still love each other but can't live with each other and it has nothing to do with you" talk yet. and wouldn't for some time.)<br /><br />Long story short, it didn't stop the fighting...the only thing that did was dad moving out, just before my sister's birthday.<br /><br />And people wonder why I hate conflict...Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-57013797708506481212009-02-20T15:31:00.000-08:002009-02-20T15:37:18.972-08:00Pasta SauceI decided tonight that what I really needed (mentally, anyway) was an evening making homemade tomato sauce and a glass of red wine. After an entertaining encounter at Dover Wines (a story for another time) and an expedition to Tuttles for appropriate materials, I headed home. The recipe is as follows (if only for me!)<br /><br />8-10 roma tomatoes<br />5 on the vine beefsteak tomatoes<br />1 large shallot<br />1/2 a green pepper<br />2 large garlic cloves<br />olive oil<br />balsamic vinegar<br />red wine<br />pinch of kosher salt<br />12 basil leaves, chiffonaded<br />handful of italian parsley, chopped<br />1/2t dried oregano (fresh would be better, but Tuttles didn't have any, and I forgot to go to Fiddleheads to see if they had any)<br />1 20 oz can of crushed tomatoes<br />1T tomato paste<br /><br />dice up the aromatics, chopping them up nice and small. Soften over med-low heat in olive oil. Shallots first, then peppers, then garlic so it doesn't burn. Add the tomatoes, tomato paste, a splash of balsamic vinegar, crushed tomatoes, and herbs. Dump whatever's left in your current glass of wine (what, you didn't think I'd *just* cook with it, did you?!), pour yourself another glass, and wait for the sauce to be done.<br /><br />Add tomatoesAitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-616064583739131282009-02-17T20:41:00.000-08:002009-02-17T21:19:48.932-08:00Regrets...So Kate has started a little blog activity, to post at least once a week on Weds, writing about a given topic. Since my brain seems to be in need of a little creative stretching, I figure it's worth a shot.<br /><br />Most of my major regrets at this point seem to stem from high school. Some are much more benign than others, almost petty, really, but regrets nonetheless. I will say, while there are times when I think about why I did or didn't do something, I will inevitably follow that thought train until I get to the realization that if I hadn't made the choices I did, I wouldn't be where and who I am now...and by and large, I like myself.<br /><br />Do I regret leaving Mt.Ararat a year early? Sometimes. Not so much for the education though, but for the people I left behind. At the time, I felt like I was pretty well written off by my classmates, so I fell out of touch pretty quickly with most of them. Now, however, I'm happy to hear from them, but wonder just how much I missed over the last 10 years....<br /><br />Do I regret not taking my graduation money and hitting Europe? Definitely. However, I have a honeymoon coming where that can all be remedied.<br /><br />I'm sure there are other things I will think of (and of course, add) as the day goes on...Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-86716654098400410772009-02-04T20:51:00.000-08:002009-02-04T20:52:14.892-08:00HilarityI'm thrilled. Not to be here, just thrilled.<br />-Steve Martin on the Colbert Report.Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-43793316116271328512009-01-05T09:57:00.000-08:002009-01-05T10:00:10.780-08:00enough alreadyan open letter to the migraine which popped up as i was getting ready for work today:<br />cut it out. I know you've been waiting for the perfect time to strike, but I assure you, today is not the day. I think i've dealt with enough this morning, finding out Matt died suddenly yesterday, and dealing with in game shenanigans...stoppit. just eff off.<br />OR, make yourself useful and help come up with ideas of stuff we can do to help out Matt's widow.Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-32368803303904454632009-01-01T17:44:00.000-08:002009-01-01T17:50:42.887-08:00Roast BeastMade roast beef for the first time in YEARS tonight. Probably since I was in high school. Maybe before. Came out really well, here's the recipe for posterity.<br /><br />1 Eye round<br />1 white onion<br />beef stock (store bought is fine)<br />jane's crazy mixed up salt<br /><br />rub eye round liberally with jane's. Slice onion into 8 thick half moons. put 6 on the bottom of the pan, dice up the other 2. put beef on top of onions, pour in beef stock to cover onions. sprinkle the diced onions on top of the roast, cover with tin foil and bake at 375 for 40 minutes or so. remove foil and continue roasting until the beef is browned and about 150 degrees. remove from pan, allow to rest covered with foil for at least 10 minutes, while you make the gravy (and, in our house, make the mashed potatoes!).<br /><br />to make gravy, strain the onions out of the stock, putting the stock into a small sauce pan. dissolve some gravy flour into beef stock or cold water (stock is better) and add to the hot stock and drippings. cook until thickened. done!Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-37361777812794556872008-12-29T19:42:00.000-08:002009-01-19T08:29:54.928-08:00Omnivore's dilemma...<p>Here’s what I want you to do:</p> <p>1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.<br />2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.<br />3) italicize any items that you would never consider eating.<br /><br /></p> <p><strong>The VGT Omnivore’s Hundred:</strong></p> <p>1. Venison<br />2. Nettle tea<br />3. Huevos Rancheros<br />4. Steak Tartare<br />5. Crocodile<br />6.<span style="font-style: italic;"> Black pudding</span><br />7. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Cheese fondue</span><br />8. Carp<br />9.<span style="font-weight: bold;">Borscht</span><br />10.Baba Gahnoush<br />11. Calamari<br />12. Pho<br />13.<span style="font-weight: bold;">PB&J Sandwich</span><br />14. Aloo Gobi<br />15. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Hot dog from a street cart</span><br />16. Epoisses<br />17. Black truffle<br />18. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Fruit wine made from something other than grapes</span><br />19. Steamed pork buns<br />20. Pistachio ice cream<br />21. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Heirloom Tomatoes</span><br />22. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Fresh wild berries</span><br />23. <span style="font-style: italic;">Foie Gras</span><br />24. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Rice and beans</span><br />25<span style="font-style: italic;">. </span><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brawn/">Brawn</a><span style="font-style: italic;">, or head cheese</span><br />26. <span style="font-style: italic;">Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper</span><br />27. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Dulce de leche</span><br />28. Oysters<br />29. Baklava<br />30. Bagna Cauda<br />31. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Wasabi peas</span><br />32. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl</span><br />33. Salted lassi<br />34. <span style="font-style: italic;">Sauerkraut</span><br />35. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Root beer float</span><br />36. <span style="font-style: italic;">Cognac with a fat cigar</span><br />37.<span style="font-style: italic;"> Clotted cream tea</span><br />38. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Vodka jelly/Jell-O</span><br />39. Gumbo<br />40. Oxtail<br />41. Curried goat<br />42. <span style="font-style: italic;">Whole insects</span><br />43. Phaal<br />44. Goat’s milk<br />45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more<br />46. Fugu<br />47. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Chicken Tikka Masala</span><br />48. Eel<br />49. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut</span><br />50. Sea urchin<br />51. Prickly Pear<br />52. Umeboshi<br />53. Abalone<br />54. Paneer<br />55. <span style="font-style: italic;">McDonald’s Big Mac Meal</span><br />56. Spaetzle<br />57. Dirty gin martini<br />58. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Beer above 8% ABV</span><br />59. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Poutine</span><br />60.<span style="font-weight: bold;"> Carob chips</span><br />61. <span style="font-weight: bold;">S'mores</span><br />62. Sweetbreads<br />63. Kaolin<br />64. Currywurst<br />65. Durian<br />66. Frogs’ legs<br />67. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake</span><br />68. Haggins<br />69. Fried plantain<br />70. Chitterlings, or andouillette<br />71. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Gazpacho</span><br />72. Caviar and blini<br />73. Louche absinthe<br />74. Gjetost, or brunost<br />75. <span style="font-style: italic;">Roadkill</span><br />76. Baijiu<br />77. Hostess Fruit Pie<br />78. Snail<br />79. lapsang souchong<br />80. bellini<br />81. <span style="font-weight: bold;">tom yum</span><br />82. eggs benedict<br />83.<span style="font-weight: bold;"> pocky</span><br />84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant.<br />85. kobe beef<br />86. Hare<br />87. goulash<br />88. flowers<br />89. Horse<br />90. Criollo chocolate<br />91. <span style="font-style: italic;">Spam</span><br />92. soft shell crab<br />93. Rose harissa<br />94. <span style="font-weight: bold;">Catfish</span><br />95. mole poblano<br />96. Bagel and lox<br />97. lobster thermidor<br />98. <span style="font-weight: bold;">polenta</span><br />99.<span style="text-decoration: underline;"> Jamaican blue mountain coffee</span><br />100. <span style="font-style: italic;">Snake</span></p>Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-70344575898460443922008-11-27T13:00:00.000-08:002008-11-27T13:04:45.036-08:00turkey lurkey doo...so I can't forget it for next year, here's this years turkey recipe!<br /><br />Brine:<br />Kosher salt<br />2 bay leaves<br />1 can chicken stock<br />brown sugar<br />maple syrup (the real shit, not the fake corn syrup stuff)<br /><br />dissolve everything in hot water in the bottom of a cooler. I usually do this with the cooler sitting right in the bathtub. If you're going to do this, warn the other inhabitants of your house that the shower will be out of commission for 24 hours or so...<br /><br />Add cold water and ice, enough to make the water very cold, and add the turkey. close the lid and leave it alone! I usually check the ice right before bed, add more if needed, and call it a night.<br /><br />Next morning, drain the turkey, and rub with:<br />1 stick softened unsalted butter<br />kosher salt<br />dried thyme<br />dried sage<br />cracked pepper<br /><br />rub under the skin, in the cavity, and outside the skin.<br /><br />bake at 425 for 40 minutes, then 375 for an hour and a half or so, covered with tinfoil. (note, this is all for a 12 lb turkey)<br /><br />let rest for about 20 minutes, or until you've finished the sides that you couldn't be bothered doing earlier because you were too busy stuffing your face and watching movies.Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-41882213309712337602008-11-19T08:47:00.000-08:002008-11-19T08:57:27.236-08:00one fish, two fish...baked stuffed fish! (and there's way more than 2 kinds of seafood involved here...which is part of what makes it so damned good. Almost nothing remotely healthy about the stuff, but who gives a damn!)<br /><br />Enter, dad's baked stuffed fish recipe, immortalized for all time on the intarwebs. And seriously, this shit's GOOD. He came up with the recipe basically by himself, with a little help from me, which makes it even more impressive, given the fact that he almost NEVER cooked unless it involved fire or clubbing a fish to death on the side of the boat when i was a kid...so. here' goes:<br /><br />Stuffing:<br />1 can cream of celery soup<br />2 sleeves ritz crackers, smashed within an inch of their buttery, flaky little lives<br />1/2# crabmeat (frozen is fine, imitation is NOT)<br />1/2#scallops, cut up into smallish pieces<br />1/2# shrimp, cut into smallish pieces (I usually use native Maine shrimp..the teeny guys usually used in popcorn shrimp)<br />1 stick butter, melted<br />parsley (if you want/remember)<br />garlic powder<br />onion powder<br />(these last 2 are to taste...i usually use a quarter teaspoon each or so...As for the garlic, dad and I have discussed the merits of using the new Ritz garlic and butter crackers, but so far have stuck with the original)<br /><br />Mix everything together (I usually just dive in with both hands...works best. Oh, but put your fish in the baking pan first, then you can just scoop the filling right on top!)<br />As for the fish, I usually go for whichever sturdy white fish is on sale (9 times out of 10, it's haddock. you can use cod if you want, I just always use haddock...I tend to have it on hand for chowder most of the time anyway, so...), about a pound to a pound and a half of it, depending on how many people you're trying to feed...<br />Place the fish in the bottom of a baking dish, scoop the stuffing on top. Yes, you'll notice there's a hell of a lot more stuffing than fish. that's the plan. All of this will fit rather nicely in an 8x8 baking pan. Bake covered at 350 for about 40 minutes, then uncovered for another 15-20 or so. the boy likes it paired with some steamed broccoli, I like it with a little salad. Either way, delicious!Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6148357581020615413.post-14508009973357539882008-11-05T08:13:00.000-08:002008-11-05T08:18:51.505-08:00non-dairy potato leek soupso after going to the last Portsmouth farmer's market of the year, I was struck by a craving for potato leek soup. I can't ever have it without making it myself, because most places put milk or heavy cream in it, and dairy and I just aren't friends. So I bought some potatoes and leeks, and made my own. It's a riff off of a friend from high school's mother's AMAZING potato leek soup...it's nothing close to hers, but tasty nonetheless, with good texture and flavor. here it is!<br /><br />2 smallish leeks, washed and cut into half moons (thin-ish)<br />2T unsalted butter<br />1lb white potatoes, cut into half moons (skin on) (again, thin-ish)<br />1 1/2c water<br />2c chicken stock (you can use vegetable to go vegetarian with this)<br />salt and pepper to taste<br /><br />soften the leeks in the butter, let them caramelize a teeny bit. add water and stock, let come back up to heat, add potatoes (it was just over 4 cups sliced, all told). Allow to simmer until potatoes are soft. Take the potato masher to the whole mess, and slightly break up the potatoes. Then beat the tar out of about a cup and a half of the potatoes. Add the mashed potato mixture back to the pot, stir. Add salt and pepper. Voila! non-dairy potato leek soup! I like mine kind of chunky, so i didn't smash the potatoes too much. if you like it smoother, puree or just smash more!Aitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05661961744147582293noreply@blogger.com1