>”How are you doing?”
“So far, so good.”
“Making progress?”
“I’m getting there. That’s my new mantra: I’m getting there. I’m getting there.”
“Of course, when you get there, you’ll find out you’re supposed to be somewhere else.”
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Yes, I found the coffeepot.
>Husband and I had quite an experience shopping recently. We went to three stores, and we had to call for a manager in all three.
In the first store, let’s call it Office Heaven, I couldn’t find the notebooks I wanted. The store has recently remodeled and rearranged and makes no sense whatsoever. I walked through the computer section three times vefore I gave in and asked a clerk to point me toward the multi-packs of steno notebooks. There was only one option, it was pricey, and the steno books were ugly (plain white cover extolling the virtues of Office Heaven itself), so I decided to try another store. Meanwhile, Husband had picked out a small technology item for Amigo. The price on the package and the product name/code matched one price on the shelf, but a different price rang up at the register: $20 higher than the price we saw. The manager muttered and grumbled indecisively, but finally gave us the lower price.
Store two, Extreme Office Supplies, didn’t have my steno books either. They were out of stock for the second time this month. The folks in charge couldn’t give me an answer, either, when I asked when such an item might come in. “Oh, we never know how many we’ll sell. It’ll automatically reorder if we sell a lot.” I reminded them that they’d been out of these notebooks two weeks ago as well. No answer. None.
Store three, the Greatest Party Show on Earth, had also rearranged and remodeled to a point where I didn’t know where anything was any more. The clerk led us to the table skirt I need to cover the computer cords hanging from my classroom pod, and I wandered around looking for odd and random and inexpensive pencils for my students. We found them, finally, at the checkout. Three boxes of random designs, marked down to ten cents a pencil! Hey, honey, start counting. I want fifty. The clerk scanned one, hit the buttons to multiply by 50, and came up with — 24 cents a pencil. Oops! She called a manager, who verified that the right price was one thin dime per writing implement and unlocked the register so she could fix my total.
We came away with good deals and most of what we wanted. However, we imagined the neighboring stores setting up lookouts. “Here they come, that innocent looking couple we told you about! Check all your prices and shelf tags. Quick! Before they come in the door! Find the ‘Closed’ sign! OMG, it’s only Back to School. I hope they don’t shop here for Christmas.”
>Summer Fridays are special for me and Amigo. We go out to lunch. We call it Funday Friday, and we really enjoy it. We choose a different restaurant each time unless something calls for an old favorite. If Dad has the day off or La Petite is coming along, we might pick a favorite that we think they’d like and share it with them. Few of our choices are chains, unless they are a statewide or regional type of place. We prefer locally owned eateries, whether diners, family style restaurants, or even pubs/bars with a good menu.
Amigo has learned a lot of social skills from these Funday Fridays. He knows how to ask for a table for two, nonsmoking (outside the city limits, that is: our city has a smoking ban in public places), and then he asks if they have a Braille menu.
This is often a challenge. We’ve been pleasantly surprised at the number of places that actually have a Braille menu, even though sometimes the host or hostess has to ask a manager to help find it. When they have a Braille menu, Amigo can figure out his own order, and he sometimes even recommends something to me.
He has also learned a lot of basic skills like putting a straw in a glass, eating shrimp with the tail still on, handling a big sandwich or burger, and asking for a take-home box if the portions are large. It’s rare that he needs the last one; he is fifteen, after all. Leftovers don’t happen very often on his plate.
But even though he learns a lot while we’re out, that’s not the real purpose of Funday Friday. We do it because we enjoy doing something special together. It’s quality time at its best, from the choice of restaurant to the choice of dessert. We chat about random things, radio, books, current events, weather, anything that’s on our minds. Sometimes he makes friends with the waitstaff, and then a return trip is almost required.
Funday Fridays are now over for the summer. When school starts we’ll leave this special routine behind — until next summer. Who knows? There might be a few new places in town we need to try.
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Despite the 90 degree heat, Amigo boogied down outside US Cellular Stadium before a White Sox game. The band was playing classics from Chicago and Blood, Sweat, and Tears — the kind of tunes that warmed this baby boomer’s heart. He’s fifteen, and he shows that whether it’s baby boomer favorites or baby disco, you’re never too old or too young to enjoy moving to the music.
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>I have hidden zucchini in spaghetti sauce, muffins (raspberry/blueberry), chili, meatballs, chicken stew, and more.
I have used zucchini openly, without subterfuge, in chocolate zucchini cake, sliced it thin with potatoes and a little basil and grilled it (mmm), and of course, the ever popular zucchini bread.
(–adapted slightly from the Good Home Cookbook)
Mom’s Melt-in-your-mouth Zucchini Bread
2 cups all purpose flour
1 cup whole-wheat flour
1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2/3 cup oil
2 1/2 cup sugar
3 large eggs or 3/4 cup egg substitute
2 cups grated zucchini
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
(Optional add-ins: chocolate chips, raisins, craisins (dried cranberries), walnuts: 2/3 to 1 cup each)
1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour two 8×4 inch loaf pans.
2. Stir together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg in a medium bowl. Set aside.
3. Combine the oil and sugar in a large bowl and beat until light. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Stir in the zucchini and vanilla extract. (Add optional ingredients here) Add the flour mixture and stir just enough to combine. Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pans.
4. Bake for about 1 hour. Test with toothpick for doneness.
5. Cool in the pans on a wire rack for 10 minutes, then remove from pans and cool completely before serving.
6. Guard the kitchen carefully. The aroma will attract random teenagers and neighbors to knock on your door, remarking, “Ooh, something smells good!”
Tips and options: I’ve made this with egg substitute, and I’ve had success reducing the oil in a variety of ways. I’ve used 1/2 cup applesauce and 1/4 to 1/3 cup oil. I’ve also tried 1/2 cup oil and 1/3 cup butter or margarine (sticks), softened.
I haven’t tried this recipe as muffins yet. Maybe tomorrow — I just picked two good-sized squash today.
>Compost. It cuts down (significantly) on the amount of kitchen garbage. It gives my garden soil an extra boost of nourishment. It cuts down on our trips to the brush dump and leaves fewer leaves for the city trucks to pick up.
There are specific “recipes” a home composter can use, but I’m pretty easy about it. If the compost is too dry, I add more wet ingredients (and I use the term ingredients loosely). If it’s too wet, I start adding dry ingredients like dried grass clippings. But right now, the decomposition is not happening smoothly.
Husband added a batch of wet grass clippings after he mowed the lawn last. This usually works great; the heat of the pile increases, speeding up the process, and the grass itself decomposes quickly. This time, though, the Week of Constant Rain hit the Midwest.
The additional moisture made the grass clump together, develop mildew, and stink.
The continuous rain made any other dry ingredients that were set aside, well, just as wet as the grass clippings.
The result: Eeew.
Today I’ll add the usual kitchen waste and stir what I can to separate the clumps of green and, um, grey-green. If the sun stays out, there may be hope for a few dry stacks from the beyond-bloom daylilies and other past-their-prime perennials.
But even if I don’t “fix” it, eventually, next spring some time, I’ll have a pile of luscious, deep brown compost to mix with my garden soil. No complaints here. Compost, no matter what I do, will happen.
>Dear Transport;
We’ve been through a lot together, you and me. We’ve driven the family on trips, taken vanloads of kids to movies, taken our turn in the grad school car pool, and even moved a child to college. Well, I’ve got to be honest. There are good and bad points in our relationship.
On the good side:
You’re roomy. We can seat eight, including the driver. That’s come in handy many times.
You’re heated and air conditioned. They’re both important in our fair state with its weird weather.
The dark green color absorbs heat in winter, but the lighter colored upholstery doesn’t overheat in summer.
Mom Car you may be, but Husband has transported equipment to model train shows and Amigo’s big recumbent three-wheeler fits in the back, too. You’re an equal opportunity vehicle.
You’ve shown some real longevity, still dependable after 105,000 miles on the road.
But then again, on the other hand:
You know how Amigo asks for the Transport Weather Report, and I read the temperature printout and compass reading to him? Well, it would be nice if the temperature were accurate more often. Today you thought it was 54 degrees outside, but the real temperature was closer to 75. I’m not asking for heat index or wind chill; a simple ballpark figure would do.
What’s with the radio button getting so finicky? I seem to be the only one who can turn it on or off in one try.
Oh, and the wipers and cruise control along with the high beam control all on the left turn signal bar, that’s a little too much. Next model, please put a few controls elsewhere for easier handling.
But overall, my dear minivan, I must say our relationship is stable. My complaints are minimal; they’re issues I can live with.
If I went to AskPatty, the car site for women, I’d give you a pretty good review.
AskPatty has recently launched CarBlabber, a place for women to write about their cars – the good, bad, and ugly – and to learn what other women think of their own cars. Or, in my case, to Blabber about the Mom Van. 🙂
>Upon unpacking boxes of materials in my new classroom, the following questions arose.
Why do I own a world map that includes the USSR? The Soviet Union collapsed before I started teaching!
Where’s the coffeepot in this building?
How many boxes do I need to open with my fingernails before finding my scissors?
Why are so many boxes are labeled DESK? Do I really own that many pens and paper clips?
How is it that the posters that took up four large drawers last year all fit in one drawer now? Oh, I guess I missed a box. Or two.
In which corner does my flag go?
Do all new teachers get the ugliest file cabinets? I’m not really new. Really, I’m not.
Where’s the nearest printer? And where’s the color printer?
Can I fit my four computers on two tables so that I have room for books and kids in the Book Nook corner?
Can I throw away the ancient styrofoam cups stored in the cupboard?
Did my supply order come in? What do you mean, what supply order?
Where is the file of my sent emails under budget?
When can I go home?
And the rest of the story: Yes, I threw away the outdated map. The media specialist led me to the printers. I re-wrote the missing purchase order, using details from my files. We have a gem of a secretary, and she started the wheels turning as soon as I gave her the specs. Hopefully, I’ll have everything soon after school starts.