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Archive for the ‘Books, Journaling, Wedding, Country’ Category

Thank you Billy Jean King. For winning the match against Bobby Riggs in September of 1973, for bearing the torch for gender equality and insisting that women athletes compete on the same economic playing field with men. The women’s movement was still in its infancy. In January, Roe v Wade was passed by an enlightened Supreme Court but, unmarried women still had trouble getting credit, and could not obtain a prescription for ‘the pill’ in many states. And another big thanks to that set of Supremes who just a year earlier, in 1972, amended the civil right’s act to include Title IX, thereby forbidding sex discrimination in any academic institution – and not just in sports! It also includes, “…Access to higher education, career education, education for pregnant and parenting students, employment, learning environment, math and science,” etc.

I’ve been thinking back today because of the World Cup in Women’s Soccer tomorrow. Abby Wombach has the determination to bring the prize home for our American team. I can’t wait to watch the game and have to think there is a new generation of young girls out there watching her fearless physicality. For my generation of girls in the ’50s and ’60s, there was nobody like that. We had the choice of cooking or sewing in high school. Luckily I was sent to Camp St Joseph for Girls early, where competitive sports was like breathing. I won basketball trophies each summer, then came home to Catholic School where we did jumping jacks next to our seat for exercise.

My Daughter learned to ski as an infant in the Berkshires. We could cross country ski right out our back door into a bird sanctuary

She was a fish in water at the Jersey Shore beach club that became a second home, she excelled on the  swim team. So imagine my shock when she declared her love for cheerleading! I was coaching the Rocker’s mini league soccer team while she was chanting “B E Aggressive.” Thankfully, she outgrew the Mustangs, and moved on to Field Hockey in high school. She had options. She became a runner, and now loves yoga and adventure hiking and rappelling off mountains! We’ve come a long way Baby!

Blonde, center, right…and the Rocker?

He got his little hands on a guitar, and except for the occasional ice hockey or lacrosse stick, he was pretty happy with the ax!

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So, one of the first things to pique my interest after I moved South was a sign outside of a restaurant on the Historic Pedestrian Mall that pictured a handgun with a red slash going through it. It read something like, “No concealed weapons in this establishment,” just in case you didn’t get the picture.

I had never seen such a sign before. No dogs allowed, no bare feet, but never no guns. It was a moment when I had to admit, this move is a BIG change, a cultural shift. Like learning to pump my own gas.

Our Attorney General, Ken Cuccinelli, is currently in a standoff with the University about gun policy. You see the administrators of Mr. Jefferson’s Academical Village have outlawed weapons on the campus for many years. To quote the UVA policy on Firearms, Weapons and Destructive Devices, the “…possession, storage or use of any firearm, weapon, ammunition or explosives” in any facility, including the medical complex, by staff, students, community or visitors is  prohibited, period. With only two exceptions: one being a police officer; or the written permission of the Chief of Police .

And now Mr Cuccinelli has stated that anyone with a permit to carry a concealed weapon trumps the school policy! In other words, it’s OK to walk into the hospital with a handgun on your belt. Now if you were an ER physician, or nurse or patient, would you like to see that sticking out of a shirt?

Should a state law always override a public institution’s policy? Right after we moved here in 2007, a horrific massacre occurred at VA Tech killing 32 people and wounding 25 others. I heard people say ‘if only’ a student or professor had had a gun that day they may have stopped the carnage. Or ‘if only’ the perpetrator had been diagnosed mentally ill. Not much was said about the assault weapon ban that was left to silently expire, or the ease of obtaining a gun in this country. Or the fact that more than 100,000 Americans are victims of gun violence every year, claiming over 30,000 lives according to the CDC.

Being an old school policy wonk, I’d like to advise our schools to change their destructive device policy pronto. Perhaps a change to “Rules and Regulations” where certain politicians must keep hands-off. Also keeping those concealed weapons out of restaurants and bars? Good idea!

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King Family Vineyard is one of the most beautiful wedding venues in Albemarle County, and now I know why. Brides and grapes benefit from the prevailing wind, keeping wedding guests cool and the vines free from mold, according to our tour guide, Tom. The  King’s French winemaker, Matthieu Finot, understands the importance of terroir –  a constellation of factors like soil, climate, aquifer and environment – in developing a great wine. Last Sunday, our fearless Needle Lady leader and chef, Mimi, set up a glorious picnic lunch under a canopy of trees, so that we could better understand the, “…secrets of the (knitting) world that can make our knitting projects more enjoyable and successful.”

                                                             We learned to make seams, we dished about dogs, and talked about our work and family life, the different ways we weave the things we love into day to day life.  Between our variegated group of UVA nurses, attorneys and sex educators, we had a fabulous day! The take-away for me?

“Don’t worry about it, it’s just knots!” Oh and well trained poodles will not chase polo ponies and my new favorite VA wine is King Family “Roseland,”  a blend of Viognier and Chardonnay. Cheers!

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Anita talked me into it. “It will be fun,” she said. And since I’m never one to avoid fun, I signed up for my very first designer weekend event at The Needle Lady. You remember, it’s the Best Little Yarn Shop in town. The designer, Chris Bylsma, came all the way from Madison, Wisconsin to instruct and hopefully inspire our motley crew of about 15 women. She was lovely and exuded confidence in our ability. Local C-villians mixed with knitters from Richmond, VA, Maryland and even one who flew in from Ottawa. Just like band groupies, this designer has a fair number of followers.

Chris Bylsma in Blue

Friday night was the “Meet and Greet,” and a chance to pick out our colors for Chris’ beautiful Coloratura jacket. Now I love all colors, and due to my many years spent in a Catholic school girl’s uniform, I stood in front of her luscious display of wool skeins like my son once stood in front of an ice cream display, or my daughter’s first trip to a candy store  – struck silent by the sheer terror of making a choice. I managed to say, “Turquoise is my happy color,” and Chris skillfully picked out a dizzying array of happy blues for me with names like, Alice, Oops, Turquoise Jeans and Ingrid’s Blues.  Claudia center in White

Saturday we got down to work. We had our six variegated yarns (in shades of blue for me, pink for Anita) mostly rolled into balls,  and one silk that would tie the many pieced jacket together like a “…virtuoso of runs and trills.” Chris gently told us to make swatches since we had to be “…on gauge.” She reminded us that we are each very different knitters and there is, “…no normal out there.”

Knitters who Lunch

How to describe a knitting circle that lasts all day? Chris measured each one of us so the jacket would fit perfectly. We laughed and shared stories of our children. We even dabbled with politics, but in a polite way. If only our legislators would knit! Claudia McClean of Claudia’s Handpaint yarns in Harrisonburg, VA had delivered all her yummy yarns the night before and stayed to help, explaining her process of dyeing those 19.5 micron hanks of Italian wool into the amazing rainbow of colors we knitters had in our hands.

Sunday everyone met at King Family Vineyard to learn seaming, have lunch, take a wine tour and watch polo of course,  (to be continued)…

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We have liftoff! Our last shuttle flight for awhile and I couldn’t help thinking about that day in Boston, watching Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin walk on the moon in 1969. I was a mere college student, holding my breath with the rest of the world. How to describe that feeling, something akin to pride and awe – patriotism mixed with wonder? We need a new word.

Besides Apollo II, 1969 would prove to be a watershed year for our generation. Nixon was elected President and Vietnam was our bloody political baptism. A friend of mine became sterile from a botched illegal abortion. Bob marched on Washington and went to Woodstock.

…in a school bus.

It’s not right that we’re privatizing space, in my opinion. The first astronauts on the moon left a sign there that read:  “Here men from the planet Earth first set foot upon the moon July 1969, A.D. We came in peace for all mankind.” Of course, since then, we’ve had many female astronauts. Today there is a woman, Sandra Magnus, among the final four astronauts heading for the space station, so when we get to Mars, we may have to make that sign a little more gender friendly. What do you say President Obama? RIP NASA Shuttle.

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Mark Bittman, of the Minimalist cooking series in the NYTimes, posted a how-to video of his Watermelon and Tomato Salad on its front web page over the weekend. There are just a few things I will click to play on the Times site and they include: 1) anything Wedding; 2) that old, fashion guru on a bike Bill Cunningham; and 3) all things Minimalist. This watermelon salad, Bittman said, was an oldie but well worth a redo since it echoes the flavors and colors of Turkey. I was planning on making a special delivery dinner to friends who had just moved into town, so I watched the podcast and went shopping. Here is what you will need for this simple and refreshing dish:

  • 1 small seedless watermelon
  • 1 package of grape tomatoes
  • parsley
  • scallions
  • blue cheese

I love using my melon baller, it beats trying to slice a finger while sliding a knife through a juicy melon. So you scoop out the watermelon sans seeds, halve the tomatoes, clean and chop the parsley and scallions and then make a very simple vinaigrette. 2 T red or white wine vinegar mixed in a glass bowl with 3-4 T Evoo and freshly ground salt (just scored some pink Himalayan) and pepper. Mix everything together and sprinkle on the cheese. If blue cheese is too strong for your family, substitute goat cheese. Picnic anyone?Now everyone knows moving is right up there among the BIG stressors in life, and when you are moving with two small children then you have Stress to the 3rd power (move +  2 kids= 3). This particular Mom is a top-notch neonatal ICU nurse, so she can make moving two babies look easy. When we were packing up nearly 30 years of marriage to move south, and move the Rocker into college, I was also putting steroid drops into my eyes every hour. A West Nile virus carrying mosquito had the audacity to bite me, and that bout of encephalitis nearly took my sight.

That was Stress to the 4th power (move + last child leaving home + nearly dying and only losing partial peripheral vision thanks to one lousy mosquito = 4).  I’m beginning to understand why my 87 year old MIL wants to stay in her house. Here is my moving mantra – “Bloom where you’re planted.”

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I admit it, I get all teary on the Fourth of July. Something about that parade, with the school bands and fire engines and the troops of boy and girl scouts. But since we moved to Central Virgina, Bob and I like to go up the mountain to Monticello – the home of the author of these words, “We hold these truths to be self-evident…” This year marks the 49th Annual Independence Day Celebration and Naturalization Ceremony, and 77 people from 44 countries around the world will swear allegiance to these United States of America.

Last year we heard Tracy Ullman, the keynote speaker, talk about our spirit of American confidence, with a capital “C!” She spoke about her father, and how he hated paying for the Royals and thought he’d have a real chance at a better life in America. The sky was the limit he thought, whereas in the UK once a shoemaker, always a shoemaker. Other years we’ve heard the artists  Christo and Jeanne-Claude speak, who are known for slinging orange drapes over Central Park, and we’ve listened to I.M. Pei the architect extol our country’s virtues. In fact Pei was the speaker the summer we moved here, in 2005. I registered to vote that day in VA at the ceremony, in Jefferson’s garden.

I wonder if documentary film maker, Alexandra Pelosi, attended our unique event. She traveled all 50 states to interview newly naturalized American citizens right after the ceremony and before they hit the Olive Garden, to find out why they wanted to relinquish all ties to their ancestral homes and become US citizens. Maybe you saw her Jon Stewart interview? She attended naturalization ceremonies at the Mall of America, at a circus, and a number of baseball stadiums. They even had one at WrestleMania. Guess I’ll just have to watch her special on HBO on July 4th, or buy her book,  Citizen USA: A 50 State Road Trip – maybe she caught me taking a picture of Tracy along with our wedding photographer, Jack Looney.

A picture within a picture…if you see Monticello look for me. I’ll be the one in the big straw hat, crying.

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Miss Bean started barking furiously on the deck while I was finishing up the pesto. Looking out towards the mountains, I saw why. A beautiful hot air balloon was floating over the valley and straight towards us!

If it wasn’t for our trees, they might have landed on our hill. We even gave the Bride and Groom balloon rides for their medical school graduation presents!

I remembered our Boar’s Head balloon ride after we fist moved here. It was an anniversary present, something from my bucket list to check off; I’d had a list before they even coined the term. I called it, “Things I Have to do Before I Die List.” I started it when I hit 50, not wanting to wait until senility set in. 

The cows would start running under trees to escape the dreaded fire-spurting, floating monster balloon; egrets would skim along our basket’s wake; tractors would spit out hay rolls underneath us; and the worst part of all, I didn’t know where we would land. Think about it. We were at the mercy of the wind, and our pilot to gently land us in an empty field. I almost had a panic attack as we started descending, skimming trees looking for open space in preparation for a landing. Then something some might call grace, others might call reality, set in and…      I let go.

There is a saying I’ve heard of, “Let go and let God.” We like to think we are always in control, but of course we are not. We might be an exceptional driver, but someone driving drunk may flip our world upside down. It’s how we handle the big challenges, a move or an illness, maybe a divorce or death – changes we all must face at one time or another – that will forge our character. And riding on the wind helped with my moving south.

I was so ready for them with a bowl of pesto primavera, but they flew on.

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Usually, it’s August when our basil crop is abundant and I have the urge to make pesto. But this year my Daughter called to get our pesto recipe last week because her pots of patio basil plants were taking over the yard. So, I pulled out The Silver Palate, my newly married cookbook manifesto, first published in 1979, the year of the Bride’s birth. It automatically opens to page 80, “Pesto,” where the binding is broken. I only change one thing in this classic, I use pine nuts, not walnuts, but it’s really up to you and what you may have on hand…ingredients:

  • 2 cups freshly washed and dry basil leaves (no stems)
  • 4 garlic cloves coarsely chopped
  • 1 cup pine nuts
  • 1 cup EV Olive Oil
  • 1 cup grated Parmesan cheese
  • 1/3 cup grated Romano
  • salt and ground pepper

She made a pesto pizza; I didn’t get the recipe, but here it is! Divine!

Pesto Pizza

Now, not to be undone, I happened upon a farmer’s market on my way home one day and filled up a bag with fresh basil so I could document the pesto process – this is one of the few times I use the Cuisinart. A kitchen appliance that comes with a video on how to use it was slightly intimidating, even if it is my favorite color blue.

Pesto is easy to make but the sequence of events here is very important. First, grate the cheese, then wash and dry the basil. Put the basil, the garlic and the nuts in the food processor and chop – then with the motor running, slowly add EVOO.  Shut off the motor and add the cheeses with a little salt and a big helping of pepper. Process briefly, then scrape out the bowl and chill till you’re ready to use.

I like to make a pasta pesto primavera. Steam any bigger veggies for 5 minutes (carrots, cauliflower etc) and chop thin stalks of asparagus and fresh from the garden yellow squash and anything else yummy. First mix the pesto with the hot pasta (I like bowtie) then add the veggies.

I also added that fake packaged crabmeat, not sure what it is, pollock or surimi maybe? Then we saw a hot air balloon coming our way…

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Let’s talk about life following art, or Irish Boston Gangster follows Nordic Noir Triumvirate? Let me explain. My family loves to read. I can still remember the first time I caught my children sitting alone on the couch, totally oblivious, reading a book without any prompting. I remember clearly the first time the Bride cried over a fictional character, I’m pretty sure his bike was stolen. And when we vacation, it’s all about the books; we devour novels. From obtuse, scientific metaphorical non-fiction (Bob), to the latest and greatest fiction, we read it all. But rarely do we all read the same books at once.

Except for Steig Larsson’s Millenium Trilogy. I have to admit, I started it with The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and before Kindle too.

Crime fiction was not my usual niche, but finding an author I loved, and reading absolutely everything they wrote is my MO. And I had to read more about Lisbeth Salander. What was it about this nymph of a girl, part hacker part guardian angel, that captured the world? I was devastated to learn that the author had died and this would be all we would ever hear of Lisbeth, until…Larsson’s partner, Eva Gabrielsson, revealed that she still owns his laptop computer with about 200 pages worth of a fourth novel.

And right in the middle of Eva’s promotional tour for her new book, There are Things I Want You to Know, an 81 year old Irish mob boss, James “Whitey” Bulger,  a Southie who turned into an FBI mole, is found hiding in plain sight among aging hippies in Southern California! It just doesn’t get any better than this – Sopranos meets Vikings. Like the villains in Larsson’s books,  Dr Peter Teleborian, or Nils Bjurman, her supposed guardian, evil psychopaths are lurking right where you’d least suspect them.

"Whitey"

I hear Jack Nicholson played a Bulger-like character in a Martin Scorsese movie, The Departed? I wouldn’t know, since violent movies were never my thing – I may have to change my evil ways, baby. And please don’t let the judge keep him from making a book deal!

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