Home Again

Eight days and many states later, we're back in our own beds. It's a drippy, gray Monday morning, totally appropriate for the end of vacation. We drove 15 hours south and found spring going full-bore: blooming flowers and trees, temps in the 50 and 60 range (the locals were saying how cool it was...we were lovin' it).

I had to clean up a pretty minimal number of cat messes when we got home at 1030 PM last night (Ferrari must have gotten into the old Kirkland brand food at one point), so things were pretty good while we were away, as confirmed by Jackie the cat sitter.

Yes, we forgot a few things: on the trip down, stuff for Bryan from Ellen. I had placed it in a completely illogical place (the basement bedroom closet), so I failed to trip over it/remember it with the rest of our luggage in the spare bedroom upstairs. I'm totally annoyed about that. Then on the return trip, we left a couple of blue ice packs in Chris and Lindsey's freezer, and forgot to bring up the no-sugar peach preserves from the Raleigh/State Farmers' Market mom requested. Oh well... All in all, there just wasn't as much time as we liked to spend with everyone, see everything and eat everything (although we did pretty well with that last item).

A few pics:



Spanish moss in Savannah National Wildlife Refuge




Container ship viewed from the roof of the Bohemian Hotel (where we enjoyed the chocolate-pecan-covered bacon)




Alligator in Middleton Place Plantation




Azalea hillside and bridge in Middleton Place



Blurry/low light/crappy old camera pic of the newest Kueffner family member, Colin Hubbard

Movie Mania

It's January, and it's that time of the year: either stay in motion or fall asleep right where I stand or sit. Preferably with some movie droning on the TV and at least one cat on my lap. I've lost count of how many people I've heard say they're tired right now. Not surprising, given the post holiday let-down and carby foods that are so tempting these days (OK, I will really try to not make any more monstrous casseroles centered around tater tots or bread). These truly are the dark times.

But during that lolling around, I've gotten to watch 'Dune' a couple of times lately. What a weird movie. The story is awesome, yes, but the ways the 80's version depicted the technology are completely off the wall. Still, if I see it on any channel, that's where I'm gonna park.

The week between Christmas and New Years was my own personal 'Ground Hog Day'. Not horrible, just a bit repetitive. I get up, drag myself to the coffee maker. Manage to do 30 minutes of exercise, telling myself I will do the other 15 minutes stairclimbing at work during lunch break. Vow to not eat too many Christmas cookies in the next 18 hours. Feed cats. I shower. Here's where we get a bit of variety: I have my Philosophy 3-in-1 shower gels all lined up on the shower seat. Cinnamon Hot Dots, Maple-Glazed Cake, or Peppermint Bark. All quite delicious. Smoosh my contacts in my eyes and head out to heat up some dinner. Either leftover 'city chicken' (Thank you, Ann), white lasagna, risotto and green salad or some combination thereof. 'The Polar Express' has been on every single night this week on one particular Direct TV channel. I heat up dinner, starting in at the same point in the movie, finish dinner on the couch, relocate into the bathroom and finish watching in there, while I dry my hair and put on make-up, and turn it off at the same exact point in the movie before I hurry out to give Mocha Java his insulin shot, and then out the door to work to face the same lunacy/different department.

Speaking of work, there's been a lot of change: besides the computer upgrade in October (only now is the new system starting to feel natural), a favorite coworker retired in November (we miss you, Bob!!!!!), and his replacement needs a LOT of help/support on the job. Frustrating as hell, because she's been there for 10 years and acts newer than the new hires. And needs to share the details of her odysseys with CPS, law enforcement and the courts concerning her adopted violent, delinquent girls-gone-wild 17-year old twin daughters, and her newly ward-of-the-state three year-old granddaughter (yes, that would mean one of them was pregnant at 14). A new third shift part-timer is going through a drawn-out divorce, and all too willing to share the latest details to everyone and anyone. I seem to be a favorite ear for all this, since I actively listen. Yeah, I just do. Working with these two is a bit like a combination of a phone call from mom and taking a crisis call where I volunteer. While it's revolting everyone else, I seem to have a tolerance for it. There's been a hell of a lot of drama where I volunteer lately, too. Communal living just doesn't suit some DV vicitims, and the resulting friction makes for some interesting reading in the communication log each week (one resident allegedly stabbing another resident's bananas...really??)

So 'The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo' was good for making all that seem tame and normal by comparison. I deliberately gave up 4 hours of perfectly good sleep to join two coworkers/friends to go see the earliest showing in a Grand Blanc theater on a Wednesday. The times I get to do fun things with the girls are so few and far between that giving up large chunks of sleep when the opportunities come up seems like a completely reasonable price to pay. And now I'm reading the book, so hopefully some things will make more sense. Quite, um exciting, to say the least. I'm surprised I was able to fall asleep at all afterwards.

This afternoon, I visited a movie theater for the second time in less than 2 weeks. Sheer craziness! I talked Tim ('I don't like movie theaters! The floors are always sticky!') into going to see 'Red Tails' in Brighton. Despite a small amount of predictablity, it was a great story, plenty of action and eye-candy-filled entertainment.

Yes, I like movies.

Not Your Grandma's Lebkuchen

White Lasagna

This is from late last week. We're still working on finishing it. It's a recipe I got in 1990 from a coworker, who ironically is about a size 0 soaking wet. I haven't made this in ages, but I got a recent persistent craving for it. It's sooooooooooo good. No excuse better than the holidays to indulge. Right?

1 to 1 1/2 pounds mushrooms cut in large pieces (quarters/thick slices)
8 Tb (one stick) butter, divided in half
2 Tb olive oil
3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1/4 C flour
1/4 tsp nutmeg
2 C half-and-half cream
2 C sour cream
2 C ricotta cheese
Enough lasagna noodles to make 3 layers (15 or so)
2 C grated Parmesan cheese, plus additional for sprinkling each layer and top
Salt and pepper to taste

Saute' the mushrooms and garlic in 4 Tb butter and the olive oil. Salt and pepper to season, set aside.

Make a roux by melting the other 4 Tb butter, and adding the flour. Cook and stir with a wire whisk until flour is blended and cooked, 5-7 minutes. Add the nutmeg and some pepper. Add the half-and-half cream and the sour cream. Whisk until smooth. Add the grated Parmesan cheese. Cook until cheese is completely melted. Do not allow the sauce to boil. Salt and pepper to taste.

To assemble, ladle enough sauce on the bottom of a deep 9 by 13-inch baking dish to cover. Arrange a layer of noodles on the sauce, breaking/overlapping to fit as needed. Spread half the ricotta cheese evenly over the noodles. Spread half the mushrooms over the cheese. Ladle enough sauce to cover. Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese. Repeat for second layer.

For the third layer: noodles, then sauce, then Parmesan cheese. Cover with aluminum foil and bake 45 minutes at 375F. Allow to stand 15-20 minutes before slicing.

Notes:

--I was generous with the mushrooms. I used more like 2 pounds.

--I was also generous with the ricotta. I had another partial container, so I used that up, too.

--Half-and-half cream is 10-12% milkfat (not sure why it's called half-and-half). There are a few substitute recipes on line using combos of skim milk, butter, evaporated milk, cream... Since I had some whole milk (about 3% fat) and some heavy whipping cream (36% fat) on hand, I just approximated amounts of these in my big measuring cup. It was waaaay too late in my day to set up the algebra problem that would have yielded a precise result.

--I had some grated Asiago in the fridge, so I used that in place of some of the Parmesan. It was a nice addition.

--I found myself wishing I'd used a bit more salt. Mushrooms, ricotta cheese and bechamel can be pretty bland on their own, and I tend to be really conservative when salting our cooking. This is a dish that needs salt.

--I used whole grain noodles (one feeble attempt at health/fiber consumption during the holiday caloric madness, and it's all I have in the pantry these days). I also do not cook my noodles before assembly. I just lay them down like shingles between the fillings--it's so much easier. But I typically assemble my lasagnas and then refrigerate them for about 6-8 hours, then bake. The final consistency is a little more al dente and velvety, but they absorb moisture (I added another splash or two of milk to the sauce before assembling) and this works just fine.

Those Powdered Sugar-Covered Crumbly Ball Cookies

That only seem to show up around Christmas. Yeah, these:



Russian tea cakes. Mexican wedding cakes. Polvorones. We called them 'worms' from the time we were in single digit ages because Mom always shaped them into crescents.

Whatever you want to call them, they've been on my mind lately. A lot. One of those odd, simple (and actually non-chocolate) things that I daydream about every now and then. I've made them twice in two weeks. Here's Mom's recipe:

1 cup butter
1 cup sifted powdered sugar (plus additional for coating)
1/2 tsp. salt
1-2 cups almonds or pecans, ground (she's got pecans underlined...I concur)
1 Tb vanilla
2 cups flour

Cream butter. Gradually add the 1 cup powdered sugar and salt, creaming well. Stir in pecans and vanilla. Add flour gradually. Mix thoroughly.

Shape by rounded spoonfuls into crescents (or balls). Place on ungreased cookie sheets.

Bake at 325F for 15 to 18 minutes. Do not brown. Roll (carefully) while warm in powdered sugar.

Notes:

Since the price of pecans seems to be keeping pace with the price of gold lately, I cut them with almonds. I toasted the nuts lightly beforehand. Cool them completely before grinding and adding to the butter mixture.

Chill the dough balls before baking. They still spread out, but not as much as room temperature dough. Possibly because of the increased fattiness of the pecans, and the loosey-goosey amount of nuts in the recipe--I've been using 1.5 to 2 cups. Looks like I'm going to have to do more research to achieve the nicely spherical cookies I've seen pictured elsewhere...

Thanksgiving in the Heart of Pennsylvania

A fine, relaxing time was had by all. Even, I think, by sister-in-law Diana, who once again kept up a steady stream of good, solid table fare from Wednesday night through Saturday morning.

This trip, we included a stop near Somerset, PA to visit the now 10 year-old site of the crashed Flight 93. Hard to believe it's been 10 years since that epic date already. First time visit for us, and from what dad Reinert was saying, maybe their third visit. The memorial is evolving, according to the volunteer who greeted us in the bitter wind out near the white granite slabs bearing all the names of the crew and passengers. Phase one is done, and next up for construction is a visitors' center. When you drive in, you wonder if you are EVER going to arrive anywhere. The speed limit is 25, so there is definitely the feeling of a funeral procession. It's in an old empty coal strip mining field, and the volunteer says it's pretty much the same today as it was September 2001. Finally you get to a parking lot and message center, and you can walk an enclosed pathway toward the actual crash site in the hemlock grove. There's just a boulder and a few small American flags some distance away (which the average visitor/non-victim family member is not allowed to go near). It's a simply designed memorial, with parallel walls marking the direction of the flight path. Now I can say I've visited all three 9/11 sites. I suppose technically we did not exit the Pentagon subway station in Washington DC to actually see the building, but we were right there.




If a house's front door practically opens right onto the road, we must be in Pennsylvania. I'm always amazed at the closeness of the homes to the roads there. What was probably once a horse and buggy track is now main road, which expanded as wide as space allowed. And places just seem somehow more intensely countrified. Candles in every window, stone-walled houses, Amish farms... I always enjoy visiting that state, no matter what the season.

I loved nephew Benjamin's comment Wednesday night as we were plowing through a feast of beef brisket, sweet potato casserole, rice pilaf, corn, and a long dining table full of other side dishes: 'Mom, for tomorrow, how are you going to top this?' Well, Thursday night's free-range turkey feast equalled or bettered that meal. Something else I always enjoy when we visit John and Diana's place is taking on prep chef duties. I will gladly chop veggies, mix salad dressings, sautee' bacon, and do whatever needs doing in that kitchen. Diana and I both took naps Thanksgiving afternoon (both rare luxury and necessity) and blearily began food prep. We dined a little later than Diana had planned, but then again, who was on a schedule? I thoroughly enjoyed a few days of not having to worry about what time it was.

We did take on some physical activities to help burn off these meals. Flip, the black lab needed walking in the evenings, and Friday Tim and I accompanied Benjamin on a section of the Appalachian Trail that includes the Chimney Rocks. I have to say I'm glad we are still able keep up with a 16-year old, and on a moderately difficult trail with a 900-foot elevation change. We hiked for more than 3 hours, so I felt quite deserving of the turkey noodle soup, turkey sammich and 4 or 5 of mom Reinert's 'Kris Kringle' bars when we got back to the house.




We believe that reality is setting in for dad. That is, he finally is facing the fact that he could not make that 8-9 hour drive any more. Two years ago on an almost identical trip, he belligerently insisted he could have done it. We didn't hear any of that this time. We heard 'I'm lost,' from the back seat, and mom's stage whisper 'Be glad you're not the one behind the wheel!'. We've been disturbed for years how turned around, confused and unobservant he is when he's anywhere outside his own property. Well, time has not improved any of these things. Even with explicitly described landmarks (written down by mom), they still cannot find our house in daylight without driving past the subdivision, sometimes three times. Mom either is so tired or follows what I suspect is a safely nonconfrontational pattern of saying nothing that she is little or no help. Both mom and dad thanked us several times for taking them there, praised our driving, and went wherever we guided them.

I really worry about the two of them, though. One without the other would not be a good thing. They both look vulnerable and fragile. They cling almost fearfully to each other when walking anywhere, and have trouble with basic things like ordering in a restaurant. At least dad is finally getting a long-needed hearing aid, which will help some of that. But they have trouble following conversations, and I notice dad does not really participate, even with people his own age. A racist comment at the table one night made me wonder what sort of deep-seated beliefs about the larger world he really has. For as much domestic and international travel as the two of them have done over the years, they are shockingly unsophisticated and unworldly.

And I overheard him say that a doctor warned him about his sugar intake 30 years ago already. Here I'd thought his borderline diabetes was only since about 2000. You'd never know he had an issue with sugar by watching him. He drinks homemade grape juice, full-sugar pop, takes larger and more helpings of the sugariest dishes than anyone else, and scrapes his bowl/plate clean with enough vigor to leave scratch marks. Makes me wonder what the long term effects of a frequently spiking/high sugar are, especially on the neurological side of things. I guess if he's made it to the age of 84 in as good health as he has, there must be some mitigating factors.

It also occurred to me that the fast-moving world today is very unkind to people like these. How many things do we automatically do today that involve a computer, smartphone, or searching online for something, or sharing images or information in some capacity on the internet? Mom and dad asked several times how we knew about finding a good burger at Heck's Cafe in Cleveland, and could not quite grasp the idea of the GPS stuck to the windshield making it so easy for us to navigate our way everywhere. Or the EZ-Pass toll transponder that charges the tolls to our credit card. We had to explain to dad why we didn't need to pick up a paper ticket for the turnpike a couple times. Somehow it's possible to be a complete technophobe these days, but it seems like a more and more difficult proposition. On the other hand, if there were some catastrophic crash of everything electronic, would people like mom and dad be the ones we'd need to lean on?

These people are not long for this world, and we should probably be making as many holiday road trips to Pennsylvania with them as possible.

North Carolina 11/11 Trip

The Big Out of State Weekend has come and gone. Nothing between here and the holidays now. Pressure's on to think of treats that will travel well to Pennsylvania for Thanksgiving, items that will delight teenagers and adults, yet not send my father-in-law's blood sugar skyrocketing into orbit (unless he eats 4 or 5 helpings). Pressure's on to think up and obtain Christmas gifts. And I can't seem to find paperwhite bulbs (cheap, anyway) to start forcing indoors. And the pressure is on to use this fine, warm weather to go out foraging for stuff to fill the windowboxes until spring. Can't possibly opt out of that and leave them bare.

I survived a total of 24 hours on the road alone with my mom. Yes. I did. The bizarre thing was that every time she would have had us going the complete opposite direction we were supposed to go, that's when I was sure what to do. Every time I wasn't sure, she was. So navigation-wise, it all worked out. And there were the mostly tolerable annoyances: the fretfulness whenever the gas tank got down to half full. The 'Tova'(oldladystinkylavenderIdespiseit) perfume. Her leaning way over toward my side of the vehicle to peer/squint at the GPS screen and repeatedly exclaiming how 'cool' it was that it knew just where we were, and was telling us where to go; alternating with her complaints that the screen wasn't big enough and that she couldn't read it. The predominance of sleep-inducing classical music, which I knew was the best middle ground for our road-trip listening pleasure. What would have been far worse would be the possibility of her trying to pretend to like my sort of highway driving music (Metallica, P.O.D., Shinedown, Disturbed, Alice In Chains, Iron Maiden, Motley Crue, Nickelback, Creed, or Rush). I could all too easily imagine her nodding along and saying 'I like the beat!', and that would have had me telescoping downward in my seat like an embarassed teenager for sure.

And we had to revisit the whole ELCA/Missouri Synod Lutheran thing. Discussing Sunday's plans, she stated she refused to attend her friends' (Vera and Bob) church (ELCA). They believe non-biblical things, she informed me in a very lofty, sanctimonious tone. I suspected she wanted me to ask 'why, pray tell, what nonbiblical things to they believe?' so she could lambaste them for ordaining gays. I didn't take the bait, and I don't feel I have the chutzpah to have an intelligent religious debate (wait, is there such a thing?) with anyone. But here's a pretty good in-a-nutshell discussion on the topic.

Other than these things, it was all a pleasant weekend. Best baby shower I've ever attended. No silly games involving melted candy bars smeared in diapers. We constructively and creatively personalized onesies with fabric paints and markers. The gifts appear to have gone over well, including the unique color scheme afghan I was suddenly compelled to make in the middle of September.





The weather couldn't have been better: sunny, warm and brilliant fall foliage. I had an entire motel room to myself for 4 nights (I mean really, when else am I going to get to nibble leftover hush puppies in bed curled up with a big-ass novel?). I slept. I drank brown liquor and ate Carolina barbecue, fried oysters, shrimp and grits, and my brothers' cooking. I tried a new Mexican restaurant. I took a chance, knocked on a door and met a philosophy professor turned chocolate maker. We walked away with a box of his salted caramel chocolate truffles.