Pick Me Up

Once, when Josh was little, we drove up to visit him and his mom. He was excited to see us, and even more excited to show us his new stuffed hamster. As he cuddled it proudly, I heard a rustling in the corner. "What's that?" I asked.

"That's my other hamster," Josh said. He shook his head sadly. "He's not a holdin' hamster."

"He bites," explained Michelle, Josh's mom. "So I got him a hamster he could hold."

Today, we drove the now 17-year-old Josh home after a week-long visit with us. Michelle had thoughtfully prepared some vegan blueberry muffins for Heidi. "Try one," she offered, "they have oatmeal, flax seed, chia seed, and chai tea."

It was delicious-- warm and cinnamony, and the texture was super-dense and moist. I like these," I said, they're kind of like portable oatmeal." 

A little while later Josh came in the kitchen. "What's this?" he asked.

"You'll love it!" I promised. "It's holdin' oatmeal."

Rock Star

Emily was kind enough to arrange a college tour at her alma mater, the Corcoran College of Art + Design, for Josh while he is visiting this week, so at 10:15 sharp, the four of us trooped into the lobby of that famous gallery and presented ourselves to the volunteer manning the desk.

It wasn't long before Ayesha, a friendly graduate student, came and brought us back to admissions. There, in probably one of the coolest office spaces ever, we sat on retro red and white vinyl lounge chairs facing a serpentine cubicle divider which was perhaps six by twelve feet and folded entirely from brown craft paper.

When Sarah, the admissions officer, came to formally introduce herself and find out who we were, too, our group started with Josh, the prospective student, and proceeded to Heidi, his aunt, Emily, his aunt, and me, also his aunt.

Was it my imagination, or did Sarah hesitate just a fraction? "Josh is lucky to have you all supporting him today," she responded.

"Oh," I told her, "don't mind us. We're just his aunt-tourage."

Productive Avoidance

Isn't it always like this? Tonight I had my writing group, and yet with a whole summer, I woke up this morning with nothing written. No problem, thought I, I have all day.

Behold the most productive day of my entire vacation!

I gathered all the recycling and put it on the curb before going to a breakfast meeting with two other teachers to work on curriculum planning. I went to the grocery store, next. Returning home, I made lunch and then re-hung the pot rack, this time screwing it firmly into the oak board I stained to match the shelf above and which I bolted to the studs.  I replaced all the pots, taking care not to ding the freshly patched and painted wall. Then I turned my attention to the rest of the house, tidying up for my guests this evening. A little later, Josh and I spent some time in the kitchen working on our version of s'mores ice cream. We took marshmallow cream and used the kitchen torch to meticulously roast it to a caramely brown, then mixed it ino a vanilla custard base. Once it was frozen, I stirred chopped chocolate bars, graham crackers, and a few mini marshmallows. Delicious! 

By 5 PM, I hadn't written a word, and it was easy to kill another hour looking back over some of my older pieces, trying to find a thread of an idea. Then I had to take the dog out, feed the animals, and start the grill.

I managed to find some writing that I actually did four years ago, almost to the day. It was fresh and funny and well worth another look. Well, I thought so, anyway. Regardless, I shared it with the promise that I will have something substantial (and new!) by next month. 

If not, at least I'll get a few more things done around here.

Bucket List

Ride a Segway... Check!

Innovation

I've had my eye on that fancy ice cream maker for a few years, not because I love ice cream (although I do), but rather because of all the opportunities it presented. Especially since Heidi went vegan, the lure of personalizing my own frozen desserts has been overwhelming.

Now that I have it, my fear is that it will be another expensive gadget, gathering dust and taking up counter space. To combat such dread, I have been drumming up my ice cream business. Vegan, classic, add-ins, custom-- you name your frozen fantasy and I will do my best to whip it up.

So far, I think my attempts have been quite good. In addition to classic chocolate and vanilla, I have made tasty vegan versions of both. For my birthday celebration, Emily made delicious lemon custard and watermelon sorbet. In addition, any houseguests we have enjoy the name your ice cream amenity. Just the other night? Josh wanted coffee, and of course Treat wanted tea. In my opinion, the Earl Grey was definitely one of the best so far.

Oh, we have plans (and all the ingredients) to concoct a s'mores version in the next day or two, but beyond all that pure fun, today, my gadget took on a practical role. At a loss as to how best use all the freakin' cucumbers our CSA has provided, coconut cucumber lime sorbet with a hint of basil, mint, and cilantro is on the menu.

And despite what Josh says, it is verrrry refreshing!

King Corn

Just a little while ago, Josh and Treat were shucking corn on the front porch. The coals were almost ready for the ribs and burgers when they delivered their handiwork to the kitchen and I crossed my fingers that it would be good corn, tender and sweet.

In my mind, few things go together as well as corn and summer. I remember when eating a whole ear was too hard and all I wanted was for my mom to cut the kernels off. Then I lost my front teeth and I had to eat it that way, and I couldn't wait to get back to the cob.

I remember how cleanly both my mom and my best friend, Nicci, were able to eat their corn off the cob. There was not a single ragged bit of kernel left on their ears. It was like they had a corn vacuum or something.

I remember when my brother lost his tooth while eating corn. We watched in fascination as my mom plucked it from the bloody cob like an errant kernel injured in battle. Then, a few days later, it happened again.

I remember the first summer visit we made to Heidi's family. One of the big events they had planned was a trip to the Eden Corn Festival. A county or two south of them, this event was like a fair or a carnival; it had rides and games and plenty of concessions, but their tradition was to eat corn, and only corn, for dinner.

I was very skeptical of their plan as we approached the corn tent. Volunteers sliced open big burlap bags full of local ears waiting to be shucked. Huge propane fired steam kettles simmered in the back, and the only thing on the menu was corn. "How many should we start with?" Heidi's dad asked, "Two or three?"

He meant dozen, of course, and although the six of us started with two, we easily polished off three and made a good sized dent in the fourth. That corn was probably the best I have ever had-- doused in salt and butter, each sweet kernel practically melted in my mouth, and I learned that night that corn can indeed make a mighty fine meal.

Oh yeah?

Don't make me and my best friend jump into a giant robot suit and smack you down!

We saw Pacific Rim today, can you tell?