After a very long hiatus, I'm back to talk about a new little novel that is worth sharing. I spent part of my break reading Carlene Bauer's first novel, an epistolary gem loosely based on the friendship between Flannery O'Connor and the poet, Robert Lowell. In Frances and Bernard, Bauer imagines an elegant and soulful exchange of letters between the two writers. While Frances, unlike Flannery, is neither Southern nor chronically ill, she shares with her real-life inspiration a deep Catholic faith and a biting wit.
As Frances and Bernard begin to slowly fall for one another, the reader falls in love with both of them. Their shared love of words and ideas makes their letters unbelievably clever and interesting. Her rigidity and his wildness add to the novel's richness.
The novel also includes letters between Frances and her dear friend Claire and Bernard and his best friend and former Harvard roommate, Ted. These additional characters allow the reader to see the two writers as they can only be seen through the eyes of those who love and understand them the best. At one point, Claire is trying to respond to Frances' romantic concerns about Bernard. Frances is unsure of his true feelings for her, unable to easily receive his admiration, and uneasy with the expectations that a love affair places on her. She is rather prim and uncomfortable with effusiveness, either in words or gestures. Claire, kind and wise friend that she is, tries to get Frances to relax and lean into this unexpected romance.
"Look at Bernard like a complimentary dish of baked Alaska brought to you by a fine and appreciative dining establishment--something you didn't know you wanted but now that it's being served up to you, you find it's impossible to resist."
Since the premise of this novel is a correspondence between two gifted writers, Bauer, also a gifted writer herself, is able to show off her masterful skill with language. You will find yourself re-reading lines just to marvel at the elegance of her prose. But don't take my word for it!! Here is the blurb from the back cover written by esteemed novelist, Jane Hamilton:
"There are so many reasons to love this perfect novel. not least because before our eyes Bauer quietly reveals the lovers to each other, and to themselves, while she explores all of the important problems of faith, work, art, marriage, passion, and how best to lead the life that you think you're meant to live. Frances and Bernard is smart and clear and deep and beautiful. I worship it."
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Why Am I Obsessed With Lena Dunham?
I have been delinquent in my blogging lately, but my newest obsession has drawn me back. At 2 a.m. last night (or this morning)I completed a marathon viewing session of all things Lena Dunham. If you somehow don't yet know who she is, let me clue you in.
Lena Dunham is a 26 year-old, Oberlin grad, actress/writer and, as of this month, a double Golden Globe winner. She is the creator, writer and actress of the HBO series "Girls" and the 2010 film, "Tiny Furniture." Since I am no longer an HBO subscriber, I missed the first season of "Girls" last year but after all the Golden Globe buzz, I was incredibly curious. Luckily, the internet can satisfy most unfulfilled desires, and I quickly downloaded the entire season including all interviews and promotional materials. After finishing all of that, and still craving more L.D., I streamed "Tiny Furniture" on Netflix.
First of all, I am amazed, impressed and probably a tiny bit jealous that she has accomplished so much at such a young age. Is it embarrassing to admit that I still feel that I have not quite hit my prime? And I am fascinated by her bravery especially since I was so very not brave in my twenties. I am also intensely curious about this generation of young people and their cavalier attitude towards sex. This is my children's generation and, after watching all of Dunham's work, it feels like they are playing by a completely different set of rules.
"Girls" is not for the fainthearted and the censorship guidelines on HBO are seemingly non-existent. In fact, the series makes traditional network sitcoms seem almost puritanical, Having said that, what is remarkable to me is the fact that Lena Dunham seems to feel perfectly fine about presenting her real and imperfect naked self to the world. Admittedly, that is something I certainly cannot even begin to imagine but I find it so refreshing and brave.
As I watched this Lena Dunham marathon, I was also struck by how smart and not smart her character is. She is witty and bright and observant and yet confused and tentative and unsure. She makes shockingly awful mistakes when it comes to life and love and then sometimes things bloom into an odd version of perfection. Her hook-up partner, Adam, is one such example. At the beginning of the season, he is ridiculously odd and uncaring and this viewer was shocked at how little he gave her and how little she was willing to settle for. However, by the end of the season, Adam is more open and caring and it is Lena's character, Hannah, who seems reluctant to move their casual sex to a deeper, more committed level.
After my hours and hours of viewing, I am left with a sense of compassion and curiosity about these twenty-somethings. On the one hand, I wish that I had been more willing to take risks, less rushed to be a grown-up, less concerned with what everyone would think of me. I wish that I was in a greater hurry to make my mark on the world and less worried about making mistakes. Maybe its not too late. Maybe some of their bravado and passion is still available to those of us who have already crossed the midway mark. I think that there are actually a lot of things we could learn from each other if we could engage in honest dialogue. I would tell the "Girls" to experience life but not to be so afraid of intimacy. I would remind them that no one, old or young, has all the answers. Life is a map you draw as you go. I would humbly suggest that, while I guarded my body too zealously, they may be sharing their most private selves too cavalierly. Finally, I would say "Bravo" to you for grabbing life by the balls and for not being afraid to own your own genius and let it shine!
Lena Dunham is a 26 year-old, Oberlin grad, actress/writer and, as of this month, a double Golden Globe winner. She is the creator, writer and actress of the HBO series "Girls" and the 2010 film, "Tiny Furniture." Since I am no longer an HBO subscriber, I missed the first season of "Girls" last year but after all the Golden Globe buzz, I was incredibly curious. Luckily, the internet can satisfy most unfulfilled desires, and I quickly downloaded the entire season including all interviews and promotional materials. After finishing all of that, and still craving more L.D., I streamed "Tiny Furniture" on Netflix.
First of all, I am amazed, impressed and probably a tiny bit jealous that she has accomplished so much at such a young age. Is it embarrassing to admit that I still feel that I have not quite hit my prime? And I am fascinated by her bravery especially since I was so very not brave in my twenties. I am also intensely curious about this generation of young people and their cavalier attitude towards sex. This is my children's generation and, after watching all of Dunham's work, it feels like they are playing by a completely different set of rules.
"Girls" is not for the fainthearted and the censorship guidelines on HBO are seemingly non-existent. In fact, the series makes traditional network sitcoms seem almost puritanical, Having said that, what is remarkable to me is the fact that Lena Dunham seems to feel perfectly fine about presenting her real and imperfect naked self to the world. Admittedly, that is something I certainly cannot even begin to imagine but I find it so refreshing and brave.
As I watched this Lena Dunham marathon, I was also struck by how smart and not smart her character is. She is witty and bright and observant and yet confused and tentative and unsure. She makes shockingly awful mistakes when it comes to life and love and then sometimes things bloom into an odd version of perfection. Her hook-up partner, Adam, is one such example. At the beginning of the season, he is ridiculously odd and uncaring and this viewer was shocked at how little he gave her and how little she was willing to settle for. However, by the end of the season, Adam is more open and caring and it is Lena's character, Hannah, who seems reluctant to move their casual sex to a deeper, more committed level.
After my hours and hours of viewing, I am left with a sense of compassion and curiosity about these twenty-somethings. On the one hand, I wish that I had been more willing to take risks, less rushed to be a grown-up, less concerned with what everyone would think of me. I wish that I was in a greater hurry to make my mark on the world and less worried about making mistakes. Maybe its not too late. Maybe some of their bravado and passion is still available to those of us who have already crossed the midway mark. I think that there are actually a lot of things we could learn from each other if we could engage in honest dialogue. I would tell the "Girls" to experience life but not to be so afraid of intimacy. I would remind them that no one, old or young, has all the answers. Life is a map you draw as you go. I would humbly suggest that, while I guarded my body too zealously, they may be sharing their most private selves too cavalierly. Finally, I would say "Bravo" to you for grabbing life by the balls and for not being afraid to own your own genius and let it shine!
Saturday, November 24, 2012
What Am I Grateful For?
Yes...another gratitude blog! However, this one is really more of a movie review. This Thanksgiving weekend, I am 2/3 grateful because I have two of my three children home. I am 100% grateful that my parents (mom--this means mostly you since you do all the cooking) are still willing to host the big turkey dinner meal at their house. Though, on mom's schedule, turkey dinner should be re-named turkey lunch--but that's another story.
I am grateful for my good friends-- near and far-- and the relatives from far who were here to celebrate the holiday with us--(Elana and Lou from Philly). I am grateful that we had a few days off from school and I've had time to watch a silly movie on-demand with Ben and Emily and bake and do laundry and even catch up on some grading. Mostly, I'm very grateful that I got to become an honorary/temporary member of the Senior Movie Group. Mom, dad, Elana and Lou planned out their whole visit, day-by-day, movie by movie. They saw (and I skipped) Anna Karenina on Thursday (after turkey lunch) and the SMG was divided about the film. Joan and Lou panned it. Sam thought it was "o.k." and Elana loved it.
Yesterday, I joined them for Silver Linings and it was a home run. We all adored it. Bradley Cooper stars as a young man living at home again after an eight month stint at an in-patient psychiatric facility. The movie plays beautifully with the edges of pathos and humor, swimming easily back and forth between the two. Yes, you will laugh and you will cry! The brilliance of the film is that, as the story line unfolds, we recognize the part of all them (and all of us) that is a little bit crazy. We must inevitably acknowledge that being human takes great courage and none of us is perfectly equipped for the job. We are all playing with just shy of a full deck.
That is a perfect segue into today's film: The Sessions. First the disclaimer: I WOULD NOT NORMALLY RECOMMEND ATTENDING A FILM ABOUT A SEXUAL SURROGATE WITH FULL FRONTAL NUDITY WITH THE FOUR ELDER STATESMEN and WOMEN OF YOUR FAMILY. HOWEVER, MOVIE THEATERS ARE VERY DARK AND WE ALL HANDLED OURSELVES LIKE GROWNUPS (except for an occasional loud laugh from Joan).
Now that that's out of the way, Don't Miss This Movie. Actually, don't miss either movie. They are both winners. They are both smart, well-written films that are brilliantly acted. The Sessions tells the true story of the deceased poet, Mark O'Brien, who spent the majority of his 49 years of life in an iron lung having suffered from polio as a child in the 1950's. If you are interested, you can view a short documentary film about the real Mark O'Brien on Amazon where you can also purchase his memoir.
The film centers around Mark's desire, at 38, to experience sex. While his mind is incredibly sharp and creative, his body is weak and ravaged by the effects of decades of immobilization. Though he has a lively wit and a warm persona, he has not met a woman who could see him as a fully-functioning man. In reality, he cannot really see himself in that way either. On top of the physical limitations, he is also bound by his religious convictions and rigid views of sex outside of marriage as sinful. He confides in a kind-hearted priest, played well by William H. Macy, to help absolve himself of some of the religious baggage he carries. Helen Hunt plays the wise and wonderful sexual surrogate who teaches him how to use his body to receive (and also-at his request- to give) pleasure. The scenes between them, their sessions, are incredibly raw and real. They manage to achieve a sense of beauty and honesty that is not one bit titillating.
Having seen these two marvelous films back-to-back, I am grateful for art and artists, for writers and actors and directors. For visionaries who take life and re-package it in fresh ways so that we can begin to understand ourselves.
Both Silver Linings and The Sessions involve love in all its guises. Friendship, romance, families and even people whose job it is to listen to us and try to help us heal. Both films are brave and gritty and absolutely gorgeous. Both films make us remember that living life is often the greatest act of heroism and that love is the most important tool in our toolbox.
Tomorrow, the Senior Movie Group will be heading out to see Lincoln. Even though I am a great fan of Abe's, I will be skipping that one so that I can grade some more papers and prepare for the busy week ahead. Besides, after hitting the jackpot with the two films I saw, I don't really want to test my luck on a third.
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday but it really shouldn't last only one day: EAT MORE TURKEY AND BE GRATEFUL ALWAYS!
I am grateful for my good friends-- near and far-- and the relatives from far who were here to celebrate the holiday with us--(Elana and Lou from Philly). I am grateful that we had a few days off from school and I've had time to watch a silly movie on-demand with Ben and Emily and bake and do laundry and even catch up on some grading. Mostly, I'm very grateful that I got to become an honorary/temporary member of the Senior Movie Group. Mom, dad, Elana and Lou planned out their whole visit, day-by-day, movie by movie. They saw (and I skipped) Anna Karenina on Thursday (after turkey lunch) and the SMG was divided about the film. Joan and Lou panned it. Sam thought it was "o.k." and Elana loved it.
Yesterday, I joined them for Silver Linings and it was a home run. We all adored it. Bradley Cooper stars as a young man living at home again after an eight month stint at an in-patient psychiatric facility. The movie plays beautifully with the edges of pathos and humor, swimming easily back and forth between the two. Yes, you will laugh and you will cry! The brilliance of the film is that, as the story line unfolds, we recognize the part of all them (and all of us) that is a little bit crazy. We must inevitably acknowledge that being human takes great courage and none of us is perfectly equipped for the job. We are all playing with just shy of a full deck.
That is a perfect segue into today's film: The Sessions. First the disclaimer: I WOULD NOT NORMALLY RECOMMEND ATTENDING A FILM ABOUT A SEXUAL SURROGATE WITH FULL FRONTAL NUDITY WITH THE FOUR ELDER STATESMEN and WOMEN OF YOUR FAMILY. HOWEVER, MOVIE THEATERS ARE VERY DARK AND WE ALL HANDLED OURSELVES LIKE GROWNUPS (except for an occasional loud laugh from Joan).
Now that that's out of the way, Don't Miss This Movie. Actually, don't miss either movie. They are both winners. They are both smart, well-written films that are brilliantly acted. The Sessions tells the true story of the deceased poet, Mark O'Brien, who spent the majority of his 49 years of life in an iron lung having suffered from polio as a child in the 1950's. If you are interested, you can view a short documentary film about the real Mark O'Brien on Amazon where you can also purchase his memoir.
The film centers around Mark's desire, at 38, to experience sex. While his mind is incredibly sharp and creative, his body is weak and ravaged by the effects of decades of immobilization. Though he has a lively wit and a warm persona, he has not met a woman who could see him as a fully-functioning man. In reality, he cannot really see himself in that way either. On top of the physical limitations, he is also bound by his religious convictions and rigid views of sex outside of marriage as sinful. He confides in a kind-hearted priest, played well by William H. Macy, to help absolve himself of some of the religious baggage he carries. Helen Hunt plays the wise and wonderful sexual surrogate who teaches him how to use his body to receive (and also-at his request- to give) pleasure. The scenes between them, their sessions, are incredibly raw and real. They manage to achieve a sense of beauty and honesty that is not one bit titillating.
Having seen these two marvelous films back-to-back, I am grateful for art and artists, for writers and actors and directors. For visionaries who take life and re-package it in fresh ways so that we can begin to understand ourselves.
Both Silver Linings and The Sessions involve love in all its guises. Friendship, romance, families and even people whose job it is to listen to us and try to help us heal. Both films are brave and gritty and absolutely gorgeous. Both films make us remember that living life is often the greatest act of heroism and that love is the most important tool in our toolbox.
Tomorrow, the Senior Movie Group will be heading out to see Lincoln. Even though I am a great fan of Abe's, I will be skipping that one so that I can grade some more papers and prepare for the busy week ahead. Besides, after hitting the jackpot with the two films I saw, I don't really want to test my luck on a third.
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday but it really shouldn't last only one day: EAT MORE TURKEY AND BE GRATEFUL ALWAYS!
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Are You A LOVER or a HATER......of Oatmeal?
For most of my life, I was an oatmeal hater. I didn't mean any offense to that particular food, but I hated all foods with a mushy texture. I didn't like Flan, or Creme Brulee or pudding or yogurt or Boston Creme Pie or Key Lime Pie or anything else that gushed and smooshed in my mouth. I craved crunch or snap or bite. For the most part, that is still true; however, the positive health effects (and the earthy ethos) of oatmeal have motivated me to give the humble oatmeal a Rachel Makeover.
The first thing I discovered was that it mattered what kind of oatmeal I started with. Steel Cut Oats, also called Irish or Scottish Oats, have a much chewier texture than regular oats. I have tried several different brands and you can experiment as each has a slightly more or less chewy consistency.
The next thing I realized was that most oatmeal was entirely too bland for me. I like flavor and lots of it!
So I gathered together all the ingredients that I thought might enhance oatmeal's blank canvas and began experimenting. The following recipe is my latest version of Rachel's Oatmeal. I am happy to report that I had my dad taste-test it and it passed the Sam test with flying colors. While dad was used to making a smoother, less jazzy bowl of oatmeal, he soon became a willing convert to my new flashier version.
The first step requires toasting slivered almonds and coconut flakes in a 375 degree oven for about 10-15 minutes until they start looking toasty and brown-ish.
My dad likes a nut-free version so I will add in the almonds at the last minute after putting his oatmeal in a separate container.
While the nuts and coconut are toasting, boil 4 cups of water with a pinch of salt. Once the water has boiled, add in the oatmeal and after about five minutes of stirring and watching, it should start to thicken. At this point, turn the heat down a bit and continue to stir gently.
The easiest measurement is 1 cup of Steel Cut Oats to 4 cups of boiling water.
While the oatmeal is cooking, peel and mash two ripe bananas.
Don't forget to check on the coconut and almonds; make sure to take them out before they get too dark!
Here's a complete list of the ingredients:
1 cup Steel Cut Oats
pinch-salt
2 ripe bananas
1 tsp. cinnamon (add more if you really want a cinnamon-y flavor)
1/2-3/4 cup sweetened coconut flakes
5-6 tablespoons slivered almonds
3 generous tablespoons brown sugar
1/2 cup dried cranberries
After the oatmeal has absorbed all the liquid (about 20-25 minutes) add in brown sugar, oatmeal, mashed bananas, cinnamon, cranberries and almonds.
Then let cool and store in airtight container in fridge. Small portions can be reheated in the microwave all week-long and served with a few tablespoons of milk or half & half.
Delicious!!! Would I turn down a hot slice of buttery brioche in favor of a bowl of oatmeal? Not yet, but this version has the potential to tempt me; the regular kind of oatmeal never could!
The first thing I discovered was that it mattered what kind of oatmeal I started with. Steel Cut Oats, also called Irish or Scottish Oats, have a much chewier texture than regular oats. I have tried several different brands and you can experiment as each has a slightly more or less chewy consistency.
So I gathered together all the ingredients that I thought might enhance oatmeal's blank canvas and began experimenting. The following recipe is my latest version of Rachel's Oatmeal. I am happy to report that I had my dad taste-test it and it passed the Sam test with flying colors. While dad was used to making a smoother, less jazzy bowl of oatmeal, he soon became a willing convert to my new flashier version.
The first step requires toasting slivered almonds and coconut flakes in a 375 degree oven for about 10-15 minutes until they start looking toasty and brown-ish.
While the nuts and coconut are toasting, boil 4 cups of water with a pinch of salt. Once the water has boiled, add in the oatmeal and after about five minutes of stirring and watching, it should start to thicken. At this point, turn the heat down a bit and continue to stir gently.
While the oatmeal is cooking, peel and mash two ripe bananas.
Here's a complete list of the ingredients:
1 cup Steel Cut Oats
pinch-salt
2 ripe bananas
1 tsp. cinnamon (add more if you really want a cinnamon-y flavor)
1/2-3/4 cup sweetened coconut flakes
5-6 tablespoons slivered almonds
3 generous tablespoons brown sugar
1/2 cup dried cranberries
After the oatmeal has absorbed all the liquid (about 20-25 minutes) add in brown sugar, oatmeal, mashed bananas, cinnamon, cranberries and almonds.
Then let cool and store in airtight container in fridge. Small portions can be reheated in the microwave all week-long and served with a few tablespoons of milk or half & half.
Delicious!!! Would I turn down a hot slice of buttery brioche in favor of a bowl of oatmeal? Not yet, but this version has the potential to tempt me; the regular kind of oatmeal never could!
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Are You High Tech or Low Tech?
After years and years of being chained to T-mobile (the iphone-less cell provider), we all switched to Verizon. This is would hardly be newsworthy other than for the fact that Emily and I finally got iphones. The iphone 5 had been released that morning, so the 4s models were drastically reduced. We took advantage of the discounted prices and left the store feeling like we were finally a part of the same century as everyone else in the world.
In fairness, I do have an ipad, which I have thoroughly loved using, but there is something different about the iphone. For one, while I leave the ipad at home each day, my iphone is always with me. Secondly, since my ipad is 1st generation, this new iphone is upgraded and has lots more bells and whistles, including a wonderful camera. But the purpose of this piece is not to create ad copy for Apple (they hardly need my help!); rather, my love affair with my iphone has forced me to reexamine my split personality. On the one hand, I am almost Amish: I love to read,cook, knit, sew, make things with my hands. On the other hand, I am almost freakishly fascinated by the latest technological gizmos and gadgets.
My favorite moments come when I am finding bridges between the old and the new. For example, a few years ago I found out about a cool new website where you could upload your artwork and they would turn it into fabric and mail it to you. Spoonflower.com is the perfect marriage of old school and new school.
I took a photo of the kids from when they were little and, using photo-editing software on my mac, I turned into a neon-colored Warhol-esque piece of art which I then uploaded to Spoonflower. When the fabric arrived, I sewed it into a pillow.
Obviously, one of the most incredible marriages between old and new is the e-reader. I have owned a Kindle for several years and, while I still buy "real" books occasionally, I would hate to give up the brilliant convenience of having so many of my favorite tomes in one small, portable container. I fervently hope that, in this case, old and new can learn to happily co-exist. I don't want to give up on bookstores or the smell of paper and ink or the feel of a solid book in my hands. When I teach, I need to hold a dog-eared, well-loved copy of the book as I page through and share with my students my copious handwritten notes.
Speaking of reading, another technological wonder I just discovered is the fact that since Audible has become part of the Amazon dynasty, there is a lovely easy link between the two called Whispersync for Voice. Let me tell you what this enables you to do: Now, you can read books on your Kindle, or the Kindle app on your iphone or ipad, and then go out for a long walk with your beloved dog and continue listening to the novel you were reading through your ipod or iphone Audible app. Here's the AMAZING part: when you crawl into bed that night and pick up your Kindle, it will sync to the last spot you listened to on your walk! Really!!! In the "old days," I would listen to a book on cd as I drove Josh all the way to Kinkaid, and then when I got home to read the book, it took me ages to find my place and visa versa the following day when I'd get back in the car. Certainly, I am not the only human out there who finds this high tech trick marvelous!
In Robin Sloan's quirky new novel, Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore, Sloan plays with the pull we feel to both old and new. His odd little book (you could almost read it in one sitting...or listen to it on a long walk and then finish up reading it in bed that night) cleverly draws the reader to the intersection of old and new: ancient encoded books and Google. I do not want to give too much away, but the ending seems, for me at least, to reinforce the idea that all knowledge can lead to insight and therefore should be embraced. Mystery and curiosity feed the soul. What seems extinct may only be hibernating. What seems to conflict may only be awaiting our deeper understanding and appreciation. As Sloan writes, "All the secrets in the world worth knowing are hiding in plain sight."
In fairness, I do have an ipad, which I have thoroughly loved using, but there is something different about the iphone. For one, while I leave the ipad at home each day, my iphone is always with me. Secondly, since my ipad is 1st generation, this new iphone is upgraded and has lots more bells and whistles, including a wonderful camera. But the purpose of this piece is not to create ad copy for Apple (they hardly need my help!); rather, my love affair with my iphone has forced me to reexamine my split personality. On the one hand, I am almost Amish: I love to read,cook, knit, sew, make things with my hands. On the other hand, I am almost freakishly fascinated by the latest technological gizmos and gadgets.
My favorite moments come when I am finding bridges between the old and the new. For example, a few years ago I found out about a cool new website where you could upload your artwork and they would turn it into fabric and mail it to you. Spoonflower.com is the perfect marriage of old school and new school.
Obviously, one of the most incredible marriages between old and new is the e-reader. I have owned a Kindle for several years and, while I still buy "real" books occasionally, I would hate to give up the brilliant convenience of having so many of my favorite tomes in one small, portable container. I fervently hope that, in this case, old and new can learn to happily co-exist. I don't want to give up on bookstores or the smell of paper and ink or the feel of a solid book in my hands. When I teach, I need to hold a dog-eared, well-loved copy of the book as I page through and share with my students my copious handwritten notes.
Speaking of reading, another technological wonder I just discovered is the fact that since Audible has become part of the Amazon dynasty, there is a lovely easy link between the two called Whispersync for Voice. Let me tell you what this enables you to do: Now, you can read books on your Kindle, or the Kindle app on your iphone or ipad, and then go out for a long walk with your beloved dog and continue listening to the novel you were reading through your ipod or iphone Audible app. Here's the AMAZING part: when you crawl into bed that night and pick up your Kindle, it will sync to the last spot you listened to on your walk! Really!!! In the "old days," I would listen to a book on cd as I drove Josh all the way to Kinkaid, and then when I got home to read the book, it took me ages to find my place and visa versa the following day when I'd get back in the car. Certainly, I am not the only human out there who finds this high tech trick marvelous!
In Robin Sloan's quirky new novel, Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore, Sloan plays with the pull we feel to both old and new. His odd little book (you could almost read it in one sitting...or listen to it on a long walk and then finish up reading it in bed that night) cleverly draws the reader to the intersection of old and new: ancient encoded books and Google. I do not want to give too much away, but the ending seems, for me at least, to reinforce the idea that all knowledge can lead to insight and therefore should be embraced. Mystery and curiosity feed the soul. What seems extinct may only be hibernating. What seems to conflict may only be awaiting our deeper understanding and appreciation. As Sloan writes, "All the secrets in the world worth knowing are hiding in plain sight."
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
ANNOUNCEMENT
Hello Again.....I have come to a decision that was not easy to make. I am temporarily stopping the novel blog and resuming the questions blog. I won't necessarily be posting every week, but I will post when the spirit moves me, when I feel that I have something to say.
I think that life has to be about challenging yourself and growing through that challenge, but sometimes it is also about honestly acknowledging our strengths and weaknesses. I was not writing the novel that I hoped to write. I was not entirely proud of what I was putting out there and that made me reluctant to continue the story. Perhaps, someday, Sarah and Miriam will call me back. Perhaps, their story will shape itself in my head as I lead my life, and I will be motivated to resume their tale. Or not. Maybe their story is not the story I need to write.
In the meantime, I will continue to post my thoughts and queries, my dreams and observations, to the question blog. I hope that I have not disappointed anyone; though, I can't help feeling a bit disappointed in myself. When I was young, I started out writing fiction and loving the appeal of creating worlds from words on paper. Then, life taught me to value truth and honesty because without them, nothing else is real. Today, I'm realizing that memoir feels like the genre that best suits me. When I write about the books I'm reading, the dreams I have, the food I create or the people I know...I am embracing and chronicling a life lived. For now...that feels like what I am supposed to be doing.
Please stay tuned for a new post from this blog soon. As you may have noticed, I tweaked the title a bit.
Thanks to all of my faithful bleaders for taking this circuitous journey with me.
-Rachel
I think that life has to be about challenging yourself and growing through that challenge, but sometimes it is also about honestly acknowledging our strengths and weaknesses. I was not writing the novel that I hoped to write. I was not entirely proud of what I was putting out there and that made me reluctant to continue the story. Perhaps, someday, Sarah and Miriam will call me back. Perhaps, their story will shape itself in my head as I lead my life, and I will be motivated to resume their tale. Or not. Maybe their story is not the story I need to write.
In the meantime, I will continue to post my thoughts and queries, my dreams and observations, to the question blog. I hope that I have not disappointed anyone; though, I can't help feeling a bit disappointed in myself. When I was young, I started out writing fiction and loving the appeal of creating worlds from words on paper. Then, life taught me to value truth and honesty because without them, nothing else is real. Today, I'm realizing that memoir feels like the genre that best suits me. When I write about the books I'm reading, the dreams I have, the food I create or the people I know...I am embracing and chronicling a life lived. For now...that feels like what I am supposed to be doing.
Please stay tuned for a new post from this blog soon. As you may have noticed, I tweaked the title a bit.
Thanks to all of my faithful bleaders for taking this circuitous journey with me.
-Rachel
Monday, September 24, 2012
UPDATES ABOUT THE NOVEL PROJECT
Recently, several people have expressed concern that I have not been writing/posting chapters for the 52chaptersin52weeks blog. I have posted 17 to date! However, if you have not followed the link and registered for email notifications, you may have been missing out. PLEASE follow this link and sign up if you want to follow this novel-in-progress!
http://52chaptersin52weeks.blogspot.com/Thanks!
Rachel
http://52chaptersin52weeks.blogspot.com/Thanks!
Rachel
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Chapter three is up!
Follow this link PLEASE!!!
http://52chaptersin52weeks.blogspot.com/2012/06/chapter-three.html
http://52chaptersin52weeks.blogspot.com/2012/06/chapter-three.html
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
REMINDER
Please sign up for the NOVEL PROJECT blog to be notified when new chapters are posted!
You can get there by clicking on this link:
http://52chaptersin52weeks.blogspot.com/
You can get there by clicking on this link:
http://52chaptersin52weeks.blogspot.com/
Sunday, May 27, 2012
CHECK OUT THE NEW BLOG
Hey all you loyal bleaders...I have just posted chapter one of my new serial novel-blog. I would be honored and grateful if you would join me for this new adventure. Please check out the new blog and sign up to be notified by email when a new chapter has posted. The link is: http://52chaptersin52weeks.blogspot.com/
Many thanks!
Rachel
Many thanks!
Rachel
Sunday, May 20, 2012
#52 WHAT COMES NEXT?
Here we are...and thank you for making this journey with me. When I started, I really didn't know if I would complete all 52 posts. It was a challenge I set for myself, so I figured that if I gave up, no one would really notice or care. Then my wonderful bleaders started following my posts from week to week and commenting to me about their thoughts. You told me what touched you, what motivated you, what amused you. You shared your own ideas and dreams with me. As my energy faltered, you gave me yours. So here we are! 52 posts have now been written and hurled into cyberspace. What's next?
I considered many options. I thought about stopping blogging completely. I have lots on my plate and I thought I could check this experiment off my list and move on.
I considered keeping the blog going but only posting when the spirit moved me. That seemed like a doable compromise.
I thought about focusing the blog on one topic, food perhaps, or books, and then posting only about things that pertained to that. However, I have heard from some of you non-cooks that the food posts were not as captivating to you. I didn't want to cut down my readership right out of the gate.
The idea for 52 Questions about Food, Books, Life and Love came to me suddenly, and when it popped into my head, it felt right. I was hoping for another such epiphany but they say that lightening doesn't strike twice. Lucky for me, it did. However, this time I wasn't sure I was ready to buy what my muse was selling. She seemed to be asking me to put a lot on the line, to take a big risk. Our conversation went something like this:
Muse: I know what your next project should be.
Rachel: Really? Great. What? (Since my muse is part of me, I can talk in shorthand).
Muse: Don't freak out, but I think you should write a novel in 52 chapters.
Rachel: You're nuts!
Muse: Think about it; you've already mastered this blogging thing. Remember how scary it seemed at first? Now you're done, and its been a really interesting and satisfying experience.
Rachel: I've never written a novel.
Muse: You've started quite a few.
Rachel: Thanks, don't remind me. That fact alone makes me feel like a failure.
Muse: Okay, then rise to the challenge. I know you can do this!
Rachel: I wish I had as much faith in myself as you have in me.
Muse: Look, the fear is part of the fun. This will be a challenge but that makes it exciting.
Rachel: But what if I can't do it? What if its awful? What if I embarrass myself?
Muse: What if its good? What if people like it? What if you can get it published eventually? Why do you always have to look at the dark side? This glass is half full.
Clearly, I am no match for my marvelous (manipulative?) muse. Next week, I will embark on a new blogging adventure. I will be writing a serial novel. This is not a novel novel concept. Charles Dickens' The Pickwick Papers was first published in the British papers in contiguous installments. Henry James, Harriet Beecher Stowe and Herman Melville all wrote serial novels. Even Tom Wolfe's iconic novel, The Bonfire of the Vanities ran in 27 parts in Rolling Stones magazine.
I have not yet ironed out all of the logistics. I may need to re-vamp this blog or begin a new one on the same site. I will have to let you know as I figure out the details.
In the meantime, friends, please stay tuned for our next shared adventure.
I considered many options. I thought about stopping blogging completely. I have lots on my plate and I thought I could check this experiment off my list and move on.
I considered keeping the blog going but only posting when the spirit moved me. That seemed like a doable compromise.
I thought about focusing the blog on one topic, food perhaps, or books, and then posting only about things that pertained to that. However, I have heard from some of you non-cooks that the food posts were not as captivating to you. I didn't want to cut down my readership right out of the gate.
The idea for 52 Questions about Food, Books, Life and Love came to me suddenly, and when it popped into my head, it felt right. I was hoping for another such epiphany but they say that lightening doesn't strike twice. Lucky for me, it did. However, this time I wasn't sure I was ready to buy what my muse was selling. She seemed to be asking me to put a lot on the line, to take a big risk. Our conversation went something like this:
Muse: I know what your next project should be.
Rachel: Really? Great. What? (Since my muse is part of me, I can talk in shorthand).
Muse: Don't freak out, but I think you should write a novel in 52 chapters.
Rachel: You're nuts!
Muse: Think about it; you've already mastered this blogging thing. Remember how scary it seemed at first? Now you're done, and its been a really interesting and satisfying experience.
Rachel: I've never written a novel.
Muse: You've started quite a few.
Rachel: Thanks, don't remind me. That fact alone makes me feel like a failure.
Muse: Okay, then rise to the challenge. I know you can do this!
Rachel: I wish I had as much faith in myself as you have in me.
Muse: Look, the fear is part of the fun. This will be a challenge but that makes it exciting.
Rachel: But what if I can't do it? What if its awful? What if I embarrass myself?
Muse: What if its good? What if people like it? What if you can get it published eventually? Why do you always have to look at the dark side? This glass is half full.
Clearly, I am no match for my marvelous (manipulative?) muse. Next week, I will embark on a new blogging adventure. I will be writing a serial novel. This is not a novel novel concept. Charles Dickens' The Pickwick Papers was first published in the British papers in contiguous installments. Henry James, Harriet Beecher Stowe and Herman Melville all wrote serial novels. Even Tom Wolfe's iconic novel, The Bonfire of the Vanities ran in 27 parts in Rolling Stones magazine.
I have not yet ironed out all of the logistics. I may need to re-vamp this blog or begin a new one on the same site. I will have to let you know as I figure out the details.
In the meantime, friends, please stay tuned for our next shared adventure.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
#51: WHAT HAVE I LEARNED?
Sorry I'm a little late with this week's post....life is busy with school ending soon and Mom's Day brunch at my house on Sunday! Shout out to all the moms who read the blog: Hope your Mother's Day was filled with love!
Mine definitely was!
So...this is the second to last post of the original 52, and I thought this would be a good time to ask myself what I have learned this year. Here's my list:
#1 I am enormously grateful that there are people out there who want to read what I write. That is incredibly gratifying and inspires me to write more and write better.
#2 My life is full. I have managed to come up with a different question and answer every week for one whole year. I juggle lots of balls, a myriad of responsibilities and interests. I am a curious sort of gal, and I seem to have an infinite number of questions in my brain.
#3 All three of my young adult children have learned something new about me this year by reading the blog. Who knew that you could transmit valuable information to your kids via the internet?
#4 I have a few incredibly loyal fans (Thanks Mom & Dad) who actually email me every week with comments. You know who you are and I am incredibly appreciative. You let me know every week that when I press SEND, someone out in cyberspace actually receives my words.
#5 I can rise to a challenge! When I began this, almost a year ago, blogging every week for a whole year seemed like a monumental undertaking. Yet, here we are! The truth is, the year will pass regardless of what any of us do. Therefore, we might as well dream big and occasionally even bite off more than we can chew--which brings me to number 6.
#6 One bite at a time! That is the answer to the tongue-in-cheek question:"How do you eat an elephant?"
The truth is, we are capable of so much more than we think we are. But lots and lots of things get in the way of our dreams. Here's a list of a few of them:
*Responsibilities
*Insecurities
*Time
*Money
*Fear
*Exhaustion
*Naysayers and doubters
AND we ask ourselves the following USELESS questions?
*Do I deserve to succeed?
*Am I aiming too high?
*What if I fail?
*Do my dreams have merit?
*Can I?
*Should I?
*Is it too bold of me to try?
*Isn't there someone who can do it better?
*Why should I take the risk?
*What if I look foolish?
*What if people laugh at me?
*What if I try and fail and then have to finally let go of my dream?
#7 Time marches on. Things I thought I'd do by thirty, I still haven't done. But each time I have pushed myself, I've grown. My Grandma Fanny used to say, "Nothing ventured, nothing gained." I still hear those words in my head...ALL THE TIME! I still have to coax myself out of my comfort zone...inch by inch.
#8 Next week, I will announce what comes next. I have not told a soul yet...maybe because I'm afraid I'll change my mind. Nevertheless, stay tuned for next week's announcement. In the meantime, think about tackling one of your own dreams...bite by bite!
Mine definitely was!
So...this is the second to last post of the original 52, and I thought this would be a good time to ask myself what I have learned this year. Here's my list:
#1 I am enormously grateful that there are people out there who want to read what I write. That is incredibly gratifying and inspires me to write more and write better.
#2 My life is full. I have managed to come up with a different question and answer every week for one whole year. I juggle lots of balls, a myriad of responsibilities and interests. I am a curious sort of gal, and I seem to have an infinite number of questions in my brain.
#3 All three of my young adult children have learned something new about me this year by reading the blog. Who knew that you could transmit valuable information to your kids via the internet?
#4 I have a few incredibly loyal fans (Thanks Mom & Dad) who actually email me every week with comments. You know who you are and I am incredibly appreciative. You let me know every week that when I press SEND, someone out in cyberspace actually receives my words.
#5 I can rise to a challenge! When I began this, almost a year ago, blogging every week for a whole year seemed like a monumental undertaking. Yet, here we are! The truth is, the year will pass regardless of what any of us do. Therefore, we might as well dream big and occasionally even bite off more than we can chew--which brings me to number 6.
#6 One bite at a time! That is the answer to the tongue-in-cheek question:"How do you eat an elephant?"
The truth is, we are capable of so much more than we think we are. But lots and lots of things get in the way of our dreams. Here's a list of a few of them:
*Responsibilities
*Insecurities
*Time
*Money
*Fear
*Exhaustion
*Naysayers and doubters
AND we ask ourselves the following USELESS questions?
*Do I deserve to succeed?
*Am I aiming too high?
*What if I fail?
*Do my dreams have merit?
*Can I?
*Should I?
*Is it too bold of me to try?
*Isn't there someone who can do it better?
*Why should I take the risk?
*What if I look foolish?
*What if people laugh at me?
*What if I try and fail and then have to finally let go of my dream?
#7 Time marches on. Things I thought I'd do by thirty, I still haven't done. But each time I have pushed myself, I've grown. My Grandma Fanny used to say, "Nothing ventured, nothing gained." I still hear those words in my head...ALL THE TIME! I still have to coax myself out of my comfort zone...inch by inch.
#8 Next week, I will announce what comes next. I have not told a soul yet...maybe because I'm afraid I'll change my mind. Nevertheless, stay tuned for next week's announcement. In the meantime, think about tackling one of your own dreams...bite by bite!
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Do You Remember "The Lottery"?
POST #50.......and counting
When you were in middle school or high school, you probably read Shirley Jackson's highly anthologized short story, "The Lottery." It is a literary rite of passage for American teens. I can remember being traumatized by it when I first read it at thirteen. For those of you who never read it (or who cannot remember it), here is a short synopsis:
The story opens as members of a small town in an undisclosed location (picture Any Town, USA) are gathering for the annual lottery. The children are innocently collecting and piling up stones, the men are chatting together as are the women. Then as the time for the actual lottery draws near, the fathers and mothers gather their children and stand together in family groupings. As the lottery begins, it becomes apparent to the reader that the participants want to lose rather than "win" this lottery. The family patriarch picks a paper out of a special box, and that paper determines whether or not his family is chosen or exempt. The members of the chosen family must then each draw individually until one member draws the paper with the special mark on it. The "winner" is stoned by all the members of the town including her own husband and children. It is chilling and ghastly and hard to read.
So why, then, did I pull it out and share it with my students this week? Well, there was an incident at school where a student tweeted something that he thought was funny but that many of us felt was highly inappropriate. It was, at the very least, thoughtless and at the very worst, cruel and divisive. Several faculty members were outraged; much of the student body (even those who were members of the groups he was targeting) were fairly apathetic. They chalked it up to a lack of sensitivity or an awkward attempt at humor. They forgave him easily and quickly. They wanted the whole thing to go away. No one jumped up and defended the people whom he had maligned. There was no student-lead outcry.
The unfortunate incident made me think of "The Lottery." It made me think about the way in which humans--in groups--often sink to the lowest common denominator. It made me think about peer pressure and apathy and about traditions that should be re-considered. Our conversations this week were very interesting. Some of the students couldn't get past the over-the-top nature of the story until I explained that Jackson was really writing a fable. If we can get past the extreme nature of the lottery, we can begin to think about some of the things we accept without questioning them.
I asked them to think of times in history that reminded them of this story. We talked about the Holocaust, slavery, the Salem Witch Trials, and the draft during the Vietnam War. We also talked about hazing in college fraternities and sororities. We talked about the way that hazing is perpetuated because the victims feel entitled to become the perpetrators, and the cycle continues over and over again. I then moved the conversation a little closer to home.
I told them that when I arrived at this school six years ago, it was a tradition for the senior class to toilet-paper the quad in the spring of their senior year. I told them that, while the quad looked magical the next morning covered in white toilet paper, and while the seniors seemed to love the experience of doing this activity as a class, it struck me as odd. I explained that I was looking at the event with fresh eyes; I was an outsider. To me, it seemed terribly wasteful to buy rolls and rolls of toilet paper to use in this way. It also seemed to go against all the eco-friendly advances most schools and organizations are trying to make. However, the most egregious part of the tradition to me was the fact that the following day, the school's maintenance workers had to spend hours and hours cleaning up the mess. They had multiple ladders out so that they could pull toilet paper off the uppermost branches of the trees. They spent most of their day pulling toilet paper off the ground, away from the shrubs and out of the trees. I couldn't imagine how it could seem appropriate to sanction an activity that was so wasteful and unnecessary and which caused so much extra work for school staff members. I am happy to report that, without any intervention from me, the tradition quietly ended. I don't know who lead the charge to abandon it, but I am grateful that someone felt strongly enough about it to fight the hold that traditions have on communities such as ours.
Perhaps everyone should re-read "The Lottery" at different stages of their lives as a reminder of the importance of asking questions. In the story, Tessie questions the tradition only after her own family has been chosen. Her greatest complaints happen when she herself has been singled out for stoning. At that point, she seems like a sore loser and no one is willing to listen to her. We talked about how the more power you have, the more likely it is that you will be heard when trying to change something. We agreed that it would be highly unlikely that a college freshman who was undergoing hazing would be able to put an end to it. The students agreed that it would take an upperclassmen, probably someone in a position of leadership in the fraternity, to make change happen. As JFK (I think???) said, "With privilege comes responsibility!"
One last little aside: I had always assumed that Jackson must have had a dark soul to have written such a terrifying story, but then I came across, LIFE AMONG THE SAVAGES. I don't remember how I stumbled upon it, but I was a young mother and I was eager to read stories of other women who had loved the challenging, engaging and exhausting job of being at home with young kids. I loved this book. I loved her warmth and her sense of humor. I loved the pure, fierce love she had for her four wild and wonderful kids. It is simply charming and made me transform my view of Jackson from a creepy woman to a warm and wonderful writer/mother. This is purely conjecture, but, perhaps, it was the strong mother lioness in her that caused her write "The Lottery" in the first place. Perhaps, she wanted
her children to grow up in a world where everyone would stand up against injustice and fight to change those things that needed to be changed.
When you were in middle school or high school, you probably read Shirley Jackson's highly anthologized short story, "The Lottery." It is a literary rite of passage for American teens. I can remember being traumatized by it when I first read it at thirteen. For those of you who never read it (or who cannot remember it), here is a short synopsis:
The story opens as members of a small town in an undisclosed location (picture Any Town, USA) are gathering for the annual lottery. The children are innocently collecting and piling up stones, the men are chatting together as are the women. Then as the time for the actual lottery draws near, the fathers and mothers gather their children and stand together in family groupings. As the lottery begins, it becomes apparent to the reader that the participants want to lose rather than "win" this lottery. The family patriarch picks a paper out of a special box, and that paper determines whether or not his family is chosen or exempt. The members of the chosen family must then each draw individually until one member draws the paper with the special mark on it. The "winner" is stoned by all the members of the town including her own husband and children. It is chilling and ghastly and hard to read.
So why, then, did I pull it out and share it with my students this week? Well, there was an incident at school where a student tweeted something that he thought was funny but that many of us felt was highly inappropriate. It was, at the very least, thoughtless and at the very worst, cruel and divisive. Several faculty members were outraged; much of the student body (even those who were members of the groups he was targeting) were fairly apathetic. They chalked it up to a lack of sensitivity or an awkward attempt at humor. They forgave him easily and quickly. They wanted the whole thing to go away. No one jumped up and defended the people whom he had maligned. There was no student-lead outcry.
The unfortunate incident made me think of "The Lottery." It made me think about the way in which humans--in groups--often sink to the lowest common denominator. It made me think about peer pressure and apathy and about traditions that should be re-considered. Our conversations this week were very interesting. Some of the students couldn't get past the over-the-top nature of the story until I explained that Jackson was really writing a fable. If we can get past the extreme nature of the lottery, we can begin to think about some of the things we accept without questioning them.
I asked them to think of times in history that reminded them of this story. We talked about the Holocaust, slavery, the Salem Witch Trials, and the draft during the Vietnam War. We also talked about hazing in college fraternities and sororities. We talked about the way that hazing is perpetuated because the victims feel entitled to become the perpetrators, and the cycle continues over and over again. I then moved the conversation a little closer to home.
I told them that when I arrived at this school six years ago, it was a tradition for the senior class to toilet-paper the quad in the spring of their senior year. I told them that, while the quad looked magical the next morning covered in white toilet paper, and while the seniors seemed to love the experience of doing this activity as a class, it struck me as odd. I explained that I was looking at the event with fresh eyes; I was an outsider. To me, it seemed terribly wasteful to buy rolls and rolls of toilet paper to use in this way. It also seemed to go against all the eco-friendly advances most schools and organizations are trying to make. However, the most egregious part of the tradition to me was the fact that the following day, the school's maintenance workers had to spend hours and hours cleaning up the mess. They had multiple ladders out so that they could pull toilet paper off the uppermost branches of the trees. They spent most of their day pulling toilet paper off the ground, away from the shrubs and out of the trees. I couldn't imagine how it could seem appropriate to sanction an activity that was so wasteful and unnecessary and which caused so much extra work for school staff members. I am happy to report that, without any intervention from me, the tradition quietly ended. I don't know who lead the charge to abandon it, but I am grateful that someone felt strongly enough about it to fight the hold that traditions have on communities such as ours.
Perhaps everyone should re-read "The Lottery" at different stages of their lives as a reminder of the importance of asking questions. In the story, Tessie questions the tradition only after her own family has been chosen. Her greatest complaints happen when she herself has been singled out for stoning. At that point, she seems like a sore loser and no one is willing to listen to her. We talked about how the more power you have, the more likely it is that you will be heard when trying to change something. We agreed that it would be highly unlikely that a college freshman who was undergoing hazing would be able to put an end to it. The students agreed that it would take an upperclassmen, probably someone in a position of leadership in the fraternity, to make change happen. As JFK (I think???) said, "With privilege comes responsibility!"
One last little aside: I had always assumed that Jackson must have had a dark soul to have written such a terrifying story, but then I came across, LIFE AMONG THE SAVAGES. I don't remember how I stumbled upon it, but I was a young mother and I was eager to read stories of other women who had loved the challenging, engaging and exhausting job of being at home with young kids. I loved this book. I loved her warmth and her sense of humor. I loved the pure, fierce love she had for her four wild and wonderful kids. It is simply charming and made me transform my view of Jackson from a creepy woman to a warm and wonderful writer/mother. This is purely conjecture, but, perhaps, it was the strong mother lioness in her that caused her write "The Lottery" in the first place. Perhaps, she wanted
her children to grow up in a world where everyone would stand up against injustice and fight to change those things that needed to be changed.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Are You a Cake Person or a Pie Person?
The answer for me is: It all depends! If the choice is Key Lime Pie or Chocolate Cake, I'm a cake girl. However, if the choice is Carrot Cake or Strawberry-Rhubarb Pie, I will take the pie--thank you very much!
I am pretty sure that I was in my forties before I ever tasted this delicacy. I am also pretty sure that the first one I ever ate was baked by my dear friend Beth. I'm sure that, never having tasted rhubarb, I was initially a little reluctant. However, one bite and I became an instant convert.
Last summer, Beth and I embarked on a wild rhubarb hunt. The hunt was wild, not the rhubarb.
Greg, Beth's lovely husband, had requested a S-R-P for dessert and the local grocery was out of rhubarb. The farmer's market had none either, but they tried to sell us a rhubarb plant. We spent several minutes debating the pros and cons of buying the plant in order to have the pie for dinner. In the end, we left the plant there and went in search of another store that might have a few stalks left.
The point of my little tale is that S-R-P is worth some extra effort; it is that good!
So...back to the present and true confession time: Although, I love eating Beth's S-R-P, I had never actually attempted to make my own. That all changed a few days ago when, while shopping in my local Houston market, I happened to spy the loveliest stalks of rhubarb I had ever seen. I am not exaggerating one bit when I say that they were GORGEOUS!!
I bought three large stalks and 2 16 oz. containers of strawberries and then phoned Beth for the recipe. She didn't have it on hand and I got impatient, so I started googling and found one that sounded similar to the one she uses. Luckily, I had a beautiful piecrust dough in my freezer (from a local bakery) and that saved me the extra step of making the crust. If you are not so lucky, you can easily make an all-butter pie crust for your S-R-P. There are oodles of easy recipes on the web.
So--back to the rhubarb. One question that one must address when cooking with rhubarb is whether or not to peel them. Beth said that there was no need to peel the stalks. However, as I started cutting into the first one, pink strips started coming off and they felt awfully stringy. I opted to pull them off (no peeler necessary) and they formed a beautiful pile of ribbons that was photo-worthy!
The next question is whether or not to cook the rhubarb mixture before you bake the pie. Beth said: "No Need" My internet search found recipes both ways, but I opted to save a step and cook it all together. So, after cutting the rhubarb into little celery-like pieces, I added them to the sliced strawberries and added the juice of one half a lemon, 1/2 cup of flour and 1 cup of sugar. Then I left it all to soak for about twenty-thirty minutes.
While the fruit mixture rested, I worked hard at rolling out the pie crust. As you shall see, I was not terribly worried about the LOOK of this pie; I was mostly focused on TASTE! One step I failed to take that I would add for all future S-R-P's is that I would pour off the extra juice after soaking the fruit. My pie was a tad runny, and I think this extra step would help alleviate that problem.
As you can see, my large lattice strips are very rustic looking. I think rustic sounds much nicer than sloppy!
Anyway, I like a lot of crust with my pie so thick strips of dough suit me just fine!
I am happy to report that the final result was amazing and it would be embarrassing to admit how quickly Ben and I polished off the whole thing--so I won't tell you. Suffice it to say, it was yumm-o!
Last night, I found out that S-R-P happens to be a favorite of my dad's. Who knew? So, the next one I make has his name on it!!!
By the way...this POST is #49 of the 52 I initially promised to write. Can you believe that a whole year has almost passed since I started this project? Anyway, I have not yet decided whether or not I will continue this blog in some form or other, but I am eager to hear your suggestions. Also, if you have any question requests for the last three posts, please send me your comments!
I am pretty sure that I was in my forties before I ever tasted this delicacy. I am also pretty sure that the first one I ever ate was baked by my dear friend Beth. I'm sure that, never having tasted rhubarb, I was initially a little reluctant. However, one bite and I became an instant convert.
Last summer, Beth and I embarked on a wild rhubarb hunt. The hunt was wild, not the rhubarb.
Greg, Beth's lovely husband, had requested a S-R-P for dessert and the local grocery was out of rhubarb. The farmer's market had none either, but they tried to sell us a rhubarb plant. We spent several minutes debating the pros and cons of buying the plant in order to have the pie for dinner. In the end, we left the plant there and went in search of another store that might have a few stalks left.
The point of my little tale is that S-R-P is worth some extra effort; it is that good!
I bought three large stalks and 2 16 oz. containers of strawberries and then phoned Beth for the recipe. She didn't have it on hand and I got impatient, so I started googling and found one that sounded similar to the one she uses. Luckily, I had a beautiful piecrust dough in my freezer (from a local bakery) and that saved me the extra step of making the crust. If you are not so lucky, you can easily make an all-butter pie crust for your S-R-P. There are oodles of easy recipes on the web.
So--back to the rhubarb. One question that one must address when cooking with rhubarb is whether or not to peel them. Beth said that there was no need to peel the stalks. However, as I started cutting into the first one, pink strips started coming off and they felt awfully stringy. I opted to pull them off (no peeler necessary) and they formed a beautiful pile of ribbons that was photo-worthy!
The next question is whether or not to cook the rhubarb mixture before you bake the pie. Beth said: "No Need" My internet search found recipes both ways, but I opted to save a step and cook it all together. So, after cutting the rhubarb into little celery-like pieces, I added them to the sliced strawberries and added the juice of one half a lemon, 1/2 cup of flour and 1 cup of sugar. Then I left it all to soak for about twenty-thirty minutes.
Anyway, I like a lot of crust with my pie so thick strips of dough suit me just fine!
I am happy to report that the final result was amazing and it would be embarrassing to admit how quickly Ben and I polished off the whole thing--so I won't tell you. Suffice it to say, it was yumm-o!
By the way...this POST is #49 of the 52 I initially promised to write. Can you believe that a whole year has almost passed since I started this project? Anyway, I have not yet decided whether or not I will continue this blog in some form or other, but I am eager to hear your suggestions. Also, if you have any question requests for the last three posts, please send me your comments!
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Do You Know Who You Are?
My 17 female seniors have just finished reading James McBride's powerful memoir, The Color of Water, and I spent part of this weekend reading their moving in-class essays about McBride's search for his identity and about their own struggles to figure out who they are. School will be over soon. Some of these seniors have attended our small private school since kindergarten. We talk fondly about our "cloistered walls," but walls can be both protective and confining. The world outside those walls is large and far more diverse. Some of the girls are more than ready to break out of this lovely shell, but many others seem filled with trepidation. A few of the girls wrote about trying to define themselves in a world that often makes them choose between being "cool" or "popular" and their Christian faith. One of the girls, who has one Asian and one Caucasian parent, wrote about identifying with McBride's struggle to define himself racially (he had a black father and a white mother). A few of the girls wrote about being different with different groups of friends and trying to ascertain which identity was more genuine or authentic. One interesting essay was about a young woman's understanding that she could view her affluent and privileged upbringing as either a benefit or a deficit. Ultimately, she chose to see it as a gift.
These girls are all bright and talented and will go on to college and then into the world to do great things.
As I read their essays, I couldn't help envying them a bit. So much of their lives lies in front of them like a blank canvas. At 51, I have much less of my life left to unfold. Yet, I don't feel as if my identity is completely static. I believe that we are always evolving and growing if we live our lives with intention and clarity. I know that I am a different woman than I was at 20 or 30. I hope that when I turn 60, I will feel that I am almost exactly the woman I had hoped to become. Not that I plan to stop growing, but I hope, at that point, to be mostly satisfied with my identity.
My forties were a time of great re-invention. I went from married to single, from stay-at-home-mom to full-time English teacher and from someone who was frightened and sad to someone who was happier and braver.
My challenge for you, dear bleaders, is to upgrade yourself at least as often as you upgrade your cellphone. If your software needs a 2.0 version, perhaps you do as well. Stretch your comfort zone.
Learn something new. Be a kinder, gentler, stronger, smarter, happier, healthier, wilder, freer version of YOU. Think of identity like a painting-in-progress: add some detail, erase an imperfection, experiment with a new color. After all, you're the only person on this entire planet who can create YOUR IDENTITY. Make it a great one!
These girls are all bright and talented and will go on to college and then into the world to do great things.
As I read their essays, I couldn't help envying them a bit. So much of their lives lies in front of them like a blank canvas. At 51, I have much less of my life left to unfold. Yet, I don't feel as if my identity is completely static. I believe that we are always evolving and growing if we live our lives with intention and clarity. I know that I am a different woman than I was at 20 or 30. I hope that when I turn 60, I will feel that I am almost exactly the woman I had hoped to become. Not that I plan to stop growing, but I hope, at that point, to be mostly satisfied with my identity.
My forties were a time of great re-invention. I went from married to single, from stay-at-home-mom to full-time English teacher and from someone who was frightened and sad to someone who was happier and braver.
My challenge for you, dear bleaders, is to upgrade yourself at least as often as you upgrade your cellphone. If your software needs a 2.0 version, perhaps you do as well. Stretch your comfort zone.
Learn something new. Be a kinder, gentler, stronger, smarter, happier, healthier, wilder, freer version of YOU. Think of identity like a painting-in-progress: add some detail, erase an imperfection, experiment with a new color. After all, you're the only person on this entire planet who can create YOUR IDENTITY. Make it a great one!
Sunday, April 15, 2012
What Was The Last Movie That Moved You?
Yesterday afternoon, my dad and I went to see a matinee of "Salmon Fishing in the Yemen." My mother and sister had gone to the opening and raved about it so much that my dad decided that he had to see it.
I am so glad that he insisted. It was charming and unusual. While there were a few over-the-top touches that I found cheesy and unnecessary, as a whole the film was a delight. There were moments during the movie when my cheeks hurt because I was grinning so much. There were other moments that I wished I had a pad and pencil with me so I could write down the wonderful lines. At some point in the film, I remember thinking, "If I could write a movie, this is the kind of movie I'd want to write."
An all-star cast put this together, but it started with a debut novel written by a British businessman and dedicated fisherman, Paul Torday. Then, the screenwriter for "Slumdog Millionaire," Simon Beaufoy worked his magic on it and finally, it was directed by the talented, Lasse Hallstrom who also directed, "What's Eating Gilbert Grape."
The film was brilliantly acted as well. Emily Blunt and Ewan McGregor played the lead characters and it was lovely to watch as they calmly and quietly fell in love with each other. McGregor's character is a quirky scientist who becomes part of an Arab Sheik's far-fetched dream to bring salmon fishing to his native land. The fact that his land is a desert only makes the dream that much better. Emily Blunt is the Sheik's financial advisor and the person he's put in charge of shepherding his dream to reality.
There are twists and turns along the way, but the essence of this film is simple and sweet. Its about love and dreams and faith. At one point, the Sheik is questioning Ewan's character about his lack of religious belief. The Sheik then cleverly points out that all people who fish, (and Ewan is a huge fisherman), are people of faith; they have to be to cast a line into the water hoping that a fish, that can't be seen, will attach itself to the hook. I could feel my dad smiling as he sat on the seat beside me. He is a man of deep faith and has spent his life explaining faith to people who question it.
I loved this movie. I loved its whimsy and I loved its depth. Movies like "Salmon Fishing in the Yemen" make me want to write books and read books and see movies and be in love and travel and see the world and explore the universe and explore my own heart. They make me believe that dreams can come true and miracles can happen. They make me bigger and better. They expand me. Great art makes us grow.
GO SEE THIS MOVIE.
An all-star cast put this together, but it started with a debut novel written by a British businessman and dedicated fisherman, Paul Torday. Then, the screenwriter for "Slumdog Millionaire," Simon Beaufoy worked his magic on it and finally, it was directed by the talented, Lasse Hallstrom who also directed, "What's Eating Gilbert Grape."
The film was brilliantly acted as well. Emily Blunt and Ewan McGregor played the lead characters and it was lovely to watch as they calmly and quietly fell in love with each other. McGregor's character is a quirky scientist who becomes part of an Arab Sheik's far-fetched dream to bring salmon fishing to his native land. The fact that his land is a desert only makes the dream that much better. Emily Blunt is the Sheik's financial advisor and the person he's put in charge of shepherding his dream to reality.
There are twists and turns along the way, but the essence of this film is simple and sweet. Its about love and dreams and faith. At one point, the Sheik is questioning Ewan's character about his lack of religious belief. The Sheik then cleverly points out that all people who fish, (and Ewan is a huge fisherman), are people of faith; they have to be to cast a line into the water hoping that a fish, that can't be seen, will attach itself to the hook. I could feel my dad smiling as he sat on the seat beside me. He is a man of deep faith and has spent his life explaining faith to people who question it.
I loved this movie. I loved its whimsy and I loved its depth. Movies like "Salmon Fishing in the Yemen" make me want to write books and read books and see movies and be in love and travel and see the world and explore the universe and explore my own heart. They make me believe that dreams can come true and miracles can happen. They make me bigger and better. They expand me. Great art makes us grow.
GO SEE THIS MOVIE.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
How Do You Define Freedom?
Friday night my parents hosted the annual Passover Seder at their home It was probably one of our largest gatherings ever. I was thrilled to have the ENTIRE Delagi clan joining us from Dallas: Beth*Greg*Matt*Sam*Hannah*Evan*Ben*Wilbur*
Dexter (that is one mom, one dad, five kids and two dogs)!!!
Our families have shared many big and small moments as the kids were growing up, but this was the first time in years that most of us(sadly, Josh was in NYC and couldn't be there to join us) were all together in the same place. Now, many of the kids are grown (we drank a lot more wine collectively than at our past seders) and it is fun to watch them all hanging out together.
We have a serious seder. My dad, the Rabbi, does not take any shortcuts. We laugh. We sing. We eat. We drink. We drink some more. But we do this holiday justice. We work our way diligently through the whole Haggadah. Dad expertly doles out parts and everyone --from the youngest to the oldest--has a part to play. Mom does all the behind-the-scenes work. She cooks, she sets a beautiful table, she hides the afikomen and she buys wonderful gifts for all the finders of the hidden matzoh. My mother does not like anyone to be disappointed--esp. children--so she hides enough little matzoh morsels for everyone at the table UNDER 30. That's a lot of hidden matzoh!
The Passover story is a story of freedom. We are all lucky to live in a country where, most days, we take our freedom for granted. Not only are we granted "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness," but we are also free to practice our religion even though we are in the minority. Of course, there have been issues of freedom even in this great country. There was a sad time when blacks were slaves, women have fought valiantly for equal rights in the workforce, and the battle for same sex marriage is ongoing.
I think that it is fair to say that we might all define freedom a little differently. For me, as I struggled at a particularly difficult juncture in my life, freedom came to mean having my insides and my outsides match.
It meant being free to live the kind of life, to be the kind of person, I wanted to be. It meant creating a safe and loving home for myself and my children. Life is a series of choices and we are free to choose our own path. Sometimes, we choose wisely, sometimes we don't...but that freedom to create our own life is more of a gift than a burden.
As I have grown up (I think I am still growing up), I have learned that going down the wrong path can have its merits. When I take a risk, I feel alive even if the end result is not exactly what I would have wanted. Each time I step beyond my comfort zone, I grow. We should all embrace that kind of freedom.
The Israelites' freedom came at a price for the Egyptians. One of my favorite parts of the seder is when we take a drop of our wine and symbolically give it away in memory of each of the plagues visited on the Egyptians. Friday night, Beth brought an adorable array of plague masks and the kids donned them during that part of the seder. They were locusts and boils and wild beasts, etc.
Some days, we feel plagued by the price of freedom as well. We have so many choices to makes each day, and some nights we go to bed with our own small share of regrets. We second guess ourselves and question the wisdom of our actions.
And then, we wake up and start again. We embrace our freedom and recognize the responsibility that comes hand in hand with it. The seder ends with a wish that all people everywhere will soon know freedom. Lets celebrate our freedom and work to free those who are still bound.
Dexter (that is one mom, one dad, five kids and two dogs)!!!
 |
| Emily, Beth, ME, Hannah & Dexter |
Our families have shared many big and small moments as the kids were growing up, but this was the first time in years that most of us(sadly, Josh was in NYC and couldn't be there to join us) were all together in the same place. Now, many of the kids are grown (we drank a lot more wine collectively than at our past seders) and it is fun to watch them all hanging out together.
We have a serious seder. My dad, the Rabbi, does not take any shortcuts. We laugh. We sing. We eat. We drink. We drink some more. But we do this holiday justice. We work our way diligently through the whole Haggadah. Dad expertly doles out parts and everyone --from the youngest to the oldest--has a part to play. Mom does all the behind-the-scenes work. She cooks, she sets a beautiful table, she hides the afikomen and she buys wonderful gifts for all the finders of the hidden matzoh. My mother does not like anyone to be disappointed--esp. children--so she hides enough little matzoh morsels for everyone at the table UNDER 30. That's a lot of hidden matzoh!
The Passover story is a story of freedom. We are all lucky to live in a country where, most days, we take our freedom for granted. Not only are we granted "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness," but we are also free to practice our religion even though we are in the minority. Of course, there have been issues of freedom even in this great country. There was a sad time when blacks were slaves, women have fought valiantly for equal rights in the workforce, and the battle for same sex marriage is ongoing.
I think that it is fair to say that we might all define freedom a little differently. For me, as I struggled at a particularly difficult juncture in my life, freedom came to mean having my insides and my outsides match.
It meant being free to live the kind of life, to be the kind of person, I wanted to be. It meant creating a safe and loving home for myself and my children. Life is a series of choices and we are free to choose our own path. Sometimes, we choose wisely, sometimes we don't...but that freedom to create our own life is more of a gift than a burden.
As I have grown up (I think I am still growing up), I have learned that going down the wrong path can have its merits. When I take a risk, I feel alive even if the end result is not exactly what I would have wanted. Each time I step beyond my comfort zone, I grow. We should all embrace that kind of freedom.
The Israelites' freedom came at a price for the Egyptians. One of my favorite parts of the seder is when we take a drop of our wine and symbolically give it away in memory of each of the plagues visited on the Egyptians. Friday night, Beth brought an adorable array of plague masks and the kids donned them during that part of the seder. They were locusts and boils and wild beasts, etc.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Where Do You Find Beauty?
I told a friend recently that they should surround themselves with Beauty. I think I was in a poetic mood; perhaps, I was speaking metaphorically. Nevertheless, it made me think (as my random insights often do) about my own life.
This weekend as I traveled to Austin to attend my daughter's sorority's Mother-Daughter Weekend, I was delighted to see that the Indian Paintbrushes and Bluebonnets were all abloom. I cannot remember the last time I traveled those roads at exactly the right moment to partake of the amazing sight of the orange and blue covered fields. Cars were parked along the highway as people got out of their cars to take photos among the flowers. I felt buoyed by the Beauty. I felt that the magical landscape somehow was a harbinger for what would be a lovely weekend. Beauty begets Beauty.
The Pulitzer Prize winning poet, Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950), once wrote: "Beauty is whatever gives joy." I could not agree more. Sometimes, we put Beauty in this small box and she is so much larger, so much more interesting, than that. She is wild and wonderful, and she is all around us.
My daughter is beautiful. Yes, she is a lovely looking young woman, but she is beautiful to me for so many other reasons. She is bright and brave and honest and real...and those are all beautiful adjectives. She has beautiful friends, but mostly, I see Beauty in the friendship they share. They care for and about one another.
They support each other. They laugh loudly and often. I have always felt that true friendship is one of the most beautiful things in my life. By surrounding myself with friends who truly know and care about me, I am surrounding myself with Beauty.
Saturday night, the three girls and their mothers (and one aunt) all went to dinner. Later, I learned that Emily was a bit nervous about how it would all go. Just because these girls adore each other doesn't necessarily mean their mothers will feel the same. Also, Emily knows that I can be a tad shy in new social settings and I suppose she worried whether or not I'd be outgoing enough to make new friends. She needn't have worried! It was an easy evening filled with camaraderie and laughter. The common theme seemed to be gratitude. We were all grateful for our lovely, beautiful daughters. We were grateful that they had found such wonderful new friends. We were grateful that they wanted us to spend time with them, and we were grateful that the other mothers could recognize our own daughter's true Beauty. After the evening, Emily marveled at what a great time we had all had.
As I drove back to Houston on Sunday, again surrounded by orange and blue and yellow wildflowers, I felt the truth in Edna St. Vincent Millays' words: "Beauty is whatever gives joy."
So friends--go forth today and surround yourself with BEAUTY!
The Pulitzer Prize winning poet, Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950), once wrote: "Beauty is whatever gives joy." I could not agree more. Sometimes, we put Beauty in this small box and she is so much larger, so much more interesting, than that. She is wild and wonderful, and she is all around us.
My daughter is beautiful. Yes, she is a lovely looking young woman, but she is beautiful to me for so many other reasons. She is bright and brave and honest and real...and those are all beautiful adjectives. She has beautiful friends, but mostly, I see Beauty in the friendship they share. They care for and about one another.
They support each other. They laugh loudly and often. I have always felt that true friendship is one of the most beautiful things in my life. By surrounding myself with friends who truly know and care about me, I am surrounding myself with Beauty.
 | |||||
| Emily w/Annika & Kate |
As I drove back to Houston on Sunday, again surrounded by orange and blue and yellow wildflowers, I felt the truth in Edna St. Vincent Millays' words: "Beauty is whatever gives joy."
So friends--go forth today and surround yourself with BEAUTY!
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