I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas!

When I was in college, my Tio Nacho introduced me to this charming song. A glass of red wine at dinner and I am suddenly recalling how David Sedaris would sing the Oscar Meyer wiener song like Billie Holiday.

So, I decided to sing "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas" like Billie -- I blame the red wine. At least Nina thought it was funny.

End of the Year

Well, it is now the end of the year and a time for reflection. I have done A LOT.

January -- I don't remember what I did last January. Eh, I think I just tried to stay on top of everything, especially as I signed up to be Hospitality shepherd (read: coordinator) for our parish.

February -- This month is also a blur. I am pretty sure I started making the massive over-achiever poster for Pre-Sanctified Liturgy meal sign ups.

March -- Lent started. I made a baby terry cloth poncho out of a dishcloth because the one I saw at the gap cost $15 and I thought, "That is just a dishcloth with a hole in it".

April -- Holy Friday fell on Lance's birthday. Or something like that. Could not make pysanky due to dyes and baby. She was still a baby then! And I couldn't fit into my Pascha dress because my boob was too big. I made Nina a cute jumper with a willow pattern and started a skirt for me...that I still haven't finished. Hmm... I also completed a hat for Nina for Pascha.

May -- Wedding anniversary: it was 8 years! Wow. I bought a bunch of material in hopes of making Nina a TON of summer clothes. That never happened. Still have the material. I did make Nina a hat.

June -- Eh, more of a blur. I adjusted a skirt.

July -- Blur. Mom visited and that was awesome.

August -- Nina tosses hat to the winds.

September -- I start making matrushka dolls and finish Nina's hat for Santa Fe. Made dress for Nina out of old skirt. Stats class started.

October -- Nina's birthday with massive amounts of stuff making: party hats, invitations, cards for food, and various other items. Then massive doll and jewlery making for the All American Council. Whew.

November -- Matrushkas still not complete. Oh well.

December -- Matruskas still sitting there in sad pile. Have 50 pounds of fleece in hopes of making Nina pants. Discover Nina likes vests and needs more shirts. *sigh* And she out grew her socks. Have big plans to complete Christmas presents and am done with about a quarter of them. *HUGE SIGH* But stats complete, which is sad because I liked it.

Still, it has been a good year. It has been good even if most of it is a blur. Blurs are good -- blurs mean that I have been so busy and nothing bad has happened that I cannot remember. A good year indeed!

Making Mahtrushkas

I have no idea how to spell it, but basically I am making little Russian nesting dolls sans the nesting part.



I have an affection for these matrushkas -- I just think they are cute. I found one in the middle on etsy before Nina was born that I really liked and I wanted to make more for her. Then I got in in my head that I would make them for the AAC booth our church is having as a fundraiser.

I have been working through various patterns as prototypes. Matush.1 is on the right here. I named her Isabel -- I like the skin tone. I trimmed along the seam lines on the inside and then she started coming apart at the seams.



So then I made Matush.2, also known as Lucy, inspired by my friends' daughter Lucy who is quite tan with blonde, blonde hair and pretty green eyes.



I left the seams alone and the doll seems more sound, but both .1 & .2 look like little Muslim girls in burkas. So, enter Matush.3. with shortened headscarf in back.



Her name is Annie because her hazel eyes remind me of the cartoon Orphan Annie. The effect is much more Matrushka like and less Muslim. The head is better, but obviously the side of her body is a bit off. I think I will stick with the regular pattern shape for the bottom but change the head seams.



More to come! I don't know how many dolls Nina (and other various relations) will have at the end of all this as I don't feel I can sell my prototypes because they are not well made. Gah! I have a goal of five for the booth though.

What I recall

I love watching the DVD commentaries on movies or tv shows. I always find the behind-the-scenes crew interesting and I jump at the opportunity to be one of them. I don't think there is an aspect of production that I find boring -- from writing, to prop creation, camera angles, and coffee-fetching, it all looks so interesting.

I gobble down as much of the show "Mad Men" as I possibly can. Whenever I get a new DVD set of a season, I watch the episode first and then go back and listen to the commentary. I especially like listening to the commentary with the show's creator, Matthew Weiner, because he gives insight into the plot and characters as well as how the show strives to keep period attitudes and sets.

The fourth season of "Mad Men" takes place in 1963 and at one point a character's daughter is planning a wedding for November 23, 1963. I immediately thought "Oh, that is going to be the day after the Kennedy assassination". In the DVD commentary, Matthew Weiner also hints at this event.

Then the assassination episode happens. For reasons I could not explain, I was bawling when it is revealed that president Kennedy died. The only humor I could find was when the daughter finds out and is bawling her eyes out because her wedding is the next day. It was very rude of the president to die right before her wedding!

I could not put my finger on why the Kennedy assassination episode struck such an emotional spot with me. When I listened to the commentary on the episode, Matthew Weiner talks about how he and the other writers wanted it to feel like September 11th -- the feeling that the world is changing and one's faith in all institutions is shaken. My emotions during the episode then made sense because I remember how unsettling that day was.

I was in my senior year of college in September of 2001. All was going well. I was with wonderful friends, my boyfriend had moved back to Santa Fe from Seattle and had a job, and I was at a school I loved. I tend to rise at a decent hour (7 a.m.) and got up at my usual time, grabbed my towel, and proceeded to the shower for one of my infamous (among my roommates at least) hour-long showers. I was just washing the conditioner out when my friend Erin (Irene) poked her head through the outer curtain to let me know that "planes", "New York", "Twin Towers", "dead", and "on radio".

I replied "huh?" and said I would attend when I got out the shower.

We listened on our radios tuned to the local NPR station as we heard that two planes had struck the twin towers in New York and the Pentagon. Wide eyed and ears tuned to everything, I dressed and got ready for breakfast. I remember the newscaster breaking the broadcast and saying "We are probably going to hear more about this in the weeks to come, so we are going to switch over to our normal programming."

Stunned by his attitude, I went to breakfast in the student center.

On a normal morning at St. John's College in Santa Fe, the placita at 8 a.m. is sparsely populated and if there is anyone there, he is moving slowly, a cigarette dangling from drool crusted mouth and a black cup of coffee (in a measuring cup) is in one hand while the other holds a copy of a lab manual for a 9 o'clock class.

The placita that morning was a buzz -- students and faculty everywhere, talking, smoking, wide-eyed, awake. I ate my breakfast and chatted with others about the events. I learned a plane crashed in Pennsylvania and classes were cancelled. There was a meeting in the Great Hall where a projector was set up with a broadcast of news. I went back to my room. Sure enough, the broadcast had resumed and I am sure the commentator who wanted to go on with normal programming was fired. I called Lance to "make sure he wasn't traveling anywhere". "Um, no," Lance responded, "why would I? Of course I am ok. Yeh, I love you too. See ya."

TV reception in Santa Fe is extremely spotty. If one expects to get a clear picture of a TV station, one needs to shell out money for cable. St. John's budget did not allow for such luxuries (and rightfully so, in my opinion). Students piled into the Great Hall to see grainy images of news bulletins on the screen where we normally watched films. I recalled that several students were from New York or had parents who worked in the Pentagon. I found folks, I made inquiries, and it seemed that all was well. Some were nervous because they had family or friends who were supposed to travel that day. A fellow in my core group had a mom who worked in the Pentagon. "She's fine," he answered in response to my inquiry, "but she said all the generals are running around totally pissed about all of this."

John Balkom was the president of the college at the time and came forward to speak and just give a summary of what had happened and what the plans for the day were at the college. We were going to have a community seminar and resume classes tomorrow. The college would continue to project the news on the screen. Planes were grounded, so it was not possible for anyone to return home to see family. Mr. Balkom then opened the floor to questions.

A friendly acquaintance, Lucia, asked "Is our country at war?". There were murmurs, mostly embarrassed for her, but some with nodding heads. "I do not know," Mr. Balkom repilied, "I am sure we will find out if that happens."

"If there is," Lucia said later to me, "I will fight. I will join the army and I will fight." I don't know if she ever did.

There would be a break, community seminar, and dinner. I talked with Daniel Bethencourt (now Fr. Daniel) and he said "weren't we just on the mountain, having a great time eating s'mores?" The Saturday before we had gone up to the ski basin for a campfire instead of attending S & C, a dance which "inducts" the freshmen to the more carnal aspects of St. John's. It was lovely to be with friends. I still had apples and marshmallows in the living room from the event.

The phone rang when I was back in my dorm. Elizabeth Starr had called to say there was a special prayer service at noon at St. Juliana's. I said I would be there and put the left over apples in a basket to take to church figuring someone would want to eat.

It turned out to be the prayer service that is described in the novel "War and Peace". Tolstoy describes the scene from Natasha's point of view: Napoleon is invading, they are on cushions kneeling in church to supplicate God to deliver them, and she is confused by all of this. It descibed my experience minus the cushions. We prostrated, we prayed, and we hoped against hope that it would never happen again. The sky in New Mexico was that bluest blue but not marred by airplane tracks as it normally was. It was eerie and my life seemed more uncertain. I handed out apples after the service. "Oh," responded David Starr (now Fr. David), "thank you, thank you. I don't think I have eaten today."

I got back to campus, my mind still whirling with the prayers, wondering about Lucia's comment regarding war, and now fearful for how it would change my life. I said this in the community seminar I was in and I am sure it was just a babble of selfish nonsense about how I didn't know what this meant for everyone. Would we become some war-torn country? Would Lance be drafted before we got married? Not that he had proposed, but it was something we were talking about with each other.

Jessica Godden responded in a very mater-of-fact way: "I know that I can only do what I can do. I am focusing on what I can do in this situation..." and then some other things that I am sure were soul satisfying to some but only got half way there for me. I knew I had to trust in God and that pray was the only thing I could really do. I couldn't' change events, I couldn't rewind and make it all better. I could only trust, pray, put my hope in God, and love those around me.

Later Lance reminded me that he had asthma and there was no way he would be drafted if the draft was in fact reinstated.

That evening in our suite, my roommates and I crowded around my small TV, tyring to get the rabbit ears to detect some sort of signal. We were able to get ABC news with some clarity. The image was grainy, but I remember seeing the second plane hit and saying "Oh my gosh, it isn't even a day old and they already have doctored up some image to coincide with the news." I think it was Theresa Campbell who said to me, "Juliana, that isn't an image -- that is actually footage." My jaw dropped.

The days and months that followed are of course blurred. I remember that Friday St. Juliana's had an Akathist for the Dead service and I missed singing "Sicut Cervus" at the memorial service St. John's held. Story after story was told about what people saw and felt. One story struck me of a father having to talk to his daughter about the tradegy as she was able to see the world trade center from her daycare. The little girl told her father that she saw birdies on fire. He was shaken not knowing how to tell her those were bodies. At bedtime, as her sleepiness helped her mind open up, she told her father that she knew those were not birdies. Her father felt in some way she was trying to protect him from further grief.

A year later there were protests and Santa Fe, and all, over regarding the war in Iraq. I was devastated to hear about the decision. Member of my family, both distant and close, have served. I know it has changed my cousin forever.

The little details of that day I am sure will fade away, so I am glad I had some opportunity to get them down and reflect on what my mind held as important. The feeling, the soul-tearing feeling, will always be with me and rise to the surface every September 11th.

Nina Dances

Though I do not remember it, apparently when I was about a year old (or less) I would sing and dance along to the "Muppet Show" opening. I am pretty sure there is a picture of me with a haircut like Nina's in a stripped shirt, diaper, and a pair of snow boots dancing in front of the tv. If either parent has the picture, I WANTS IT!

Whether Nina likes music because of an inherited disposition or whether it is just something babies like, I love that she dances to it. Here are a few short clips of Nina enjoying a good wiggle to music.

In her high chair:



In the next one, I promise I am not singing.

We had the radio on the tv. I know. What an age in which we live. Towards the end she stands on her own and dances.

Harry Potter Pt II Review

I went to see the final Harry Potter film a month after it came out in theatres. I was just not up for going immediately or seeing all the films in order -- motherhood has taken its toll on my energy. Plus, it was nice to wait and go with friends to the film. So I wanted to list the pros and cons of the last film.

CONS:

I don't know if I can limit myself to SEVEN...I will try.

7. Too much soul baby: The Voldy soul baby thing under the seat was gross. Way gross. Didn't need that much screen time. Three seconds would be enough.

6. The Malfoys WALK AWAY: I can't even believe Steve Kloves wrote that $#*%. Seriously. The Malfoys would not walk away. Especially after the AWKWARD HUG of the century. And Voldy would NEVER HUG anybody. Fist bump? Maybe. Wand slap? Certainly. Hug? NEVER. WTF. (Though it certainly made sense with Harry-hugging-flying duel. Oh wait, no, that made NO SENSE AT ALL. Maybe Ralph Finnes was in a hugging mood that day. If so, then I should have been on set.)

5. Giant wave: Um, Steve Kloves, I know you are not a Ron/Hermione fan, but the giant wave of water right before they kiss? You don't have to OVER emphasize the sexual element -- subtle is good. Too Freudian for my taste. Just have them kiss and then give more time to Ariadne's story.

4. Students EVERYWHERE during the last battle: So, all students march around in neat little rows (a la Madeline books) and yet there are hundreds of them during the last battle all running around and screaming. What happened to the mass evacuation of students by McGonagoll? And WTF her sending out the Slytherins? Made NO sense. Also: why destroy the Quidditch pitch?

3. After fighting their way through Gringotts, riding on the back of a dragon, and then jumping in a frigid lake, Hermione pulls out...the hand-sanitizer? I know they had to cram a lot into the film, but with no explanation, I had to make up my own. That dragon wasn't in the cleanest of underground banks.

2. Where was Crabbe? And why was he replaced with Blaise Zambini? And WHY was Goyle the one who set the fiendfyre? WHY? WHY? WHY?!?!? Oh, drug issues (see here).

1. WTF: HARRY FIX YOUR @^#$^@& WAND!?!?!?!?! I did NOT like that part. Could you tell? Harry was supposed to use the elder wand to repair his broken wand with Fawkes feather in it. Now what is he going to use? Draco's wand? That is just SICK.

PROS:

7. They showed people dying/dead: I know that sounds harsh and I was really surprised Heyman gave this the OK, but I am glad they showed just how EVIL Voldy was and how high the stakes were. He was like Hitler but with a snake-like face and a wand. And Goyle falling into the fire. WOW. Oh and goblin death by fire equally shocking. Lavender Brown munched on by Fenrir. All very real and captured the sense that no one was safe.

6. Ron & Hermione's kiss: believable. Good job guys. Neville's little bit about finding Luna was sweet. Glad Ginny said "I know".

5. Neville was a BA: I wish he had been the BAMF he was in the novel, but making him a BA was just as good. I liked his speech to Voldy, and the mockery with it -- it was good. A little weak, but better than nothing.

4. "Harry, if we die because of them, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" "NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH!" Hurray for greatest Weasley lines EVER! And I started crying when Ron was sobbing over Fred. And Tonks and Lupin. I also liked how Molly had a bit of hesitation with the wand duel, as if she can't believe what she stepped into and hopes she doesn't die in the process, and then overcomes her fear to off Bellatrix.

3. Little Snape was PERFECT: He was darling. I liked him. Botoxed-slightly older Snape was not so good. Snape's death scene was good. Not as I imagined it entirely, but completely brutal and in keeping with Volemort's character. Glad Voldy didn't hug him.

2. Oh yeah, Michael Gambon can act: Forgot about that. He was quite good when he isn't screaming intensely at Harry. Oh yeah, and WARWICK DAVIS is a AMAZING. MAN CAN ACT. And, John Hurt, Helena Bonham Carter, Emma Thompson...the list goes on and on. Glad all the actors found time to come in for a day to make an appearance. AND HURRAY FOR CIARAN HINDS!!! I call him Inspector Lindley because he looks like Inspector Lindley, but he isn't, but either way he is AWESOME and I am so glad he was in the movie (he was Aberforth). And hurray for high-happy imperius cursed goblins. Love those guys. (Oh, and the Grey Lady was in Nanny McPhee. It was bugging me during the last quarter of it and then right before I went to bed I remembered where I had seen her.)

And before the top pro, I want to mention how NOT FAIR it is to moms & dads who watch this film. The whole time I thought baby Harry looked like Nina. Then I got sad about how I might die and leave Nina behind and she is just this little baby. And would I be brave like Lily? Or would I hug Voldy? And then all those kids lying dead? Not cool. I kept thinking about all their parents. Makes me teary eyed just thinking about it.

1. YAY DRAGON! Best part of the movie, hands down. Love that dragon. Would want one if it would promise not to eat me. I thought Griphooks treatment of it was believable and Hermione's aversion excellent. LOVE THAT SCENE. The whole movie could have been that scene (extended) and I would have been happy.

Even better than the dragon was this:

No, not that kid from Twilight. YAY MIKAEL BLOMKVIST!!!! He is AMAZING!!!

And a MUPPET MOVIE!!! YAY!!!!

I AM SO THERE!!!

And I had most of the theatre scared because I LAUGHED SO HARD AT THE PREVIEW FOR THIS:

I might just have to see it at the Crest for the heck of it. I am sure it will be terrible. I will pay $11 to see the final Harry Potter film, but not for dancing penguins. Got my standards, you know.

Transfiguration Follow Up

My friends have a great bumper sticker that says something to the effect of "Love People/Make Them Good Food". The bumper sticker neatly sums up how I approach life. I love food. I love the people I love (to borrow a turn of phrase from my husband). So you know I REALLY like you when I cook for you. You won't go hungry under my watch.

I was excited for the Tiny's Organic All Fruit bag deal we got on Living Social. We were not disappointed and it neatly coincided with my Dormition Fast proposal: we eat food that is locally grown.

Look at all that fruit! We had 4 pounds of cherries, several pounds of pluots, peaches, and nectarines. Given that I live with two fruit bats, this bag was PERFECT. We eat the entire contents in about a week.

With regard to produce, I found some difficulty in keeping totally local. I did OK the first week. I came up with a list of dishes I wanted to make and then shopped the farmer's market for inspiration. It worked out pretty well -- out of a list of seven possible dishes, I was able to make three from totally local produce. I would have made vegetable sandwiches, but didn't find mushrooms that I liked.

I also couldn't find citrus. I remember when I was younger and we would get walnuts, apples, and oranges in our stockings. My cousins and I would be aghast as to why produce would be where toys should. I then began reading more books about frontier life and living on the prairie and discovered how precious citrus and fresh produce can be. It then made sense that my grandmother, who grew up on a farm, was simply keeping that tradition of holding fresh fruit as important. It made me respect her gift that much more. Of course, a few years later one could not find the mesh stockings stuffed with oranges, apples, and walnuts since the tradition died with my materialistic generation.

A recipe I wanted to make called for lemon zest and juice. So, I had to be creative and decided that red wine vinegar would give the necessary sweet tartness to the dish.

Martha Stewart's minions certainly know what they are doing. This is a dish of blanched local green beans, sweet red onion, tomatoes, and parsley tossed with canned chickpeas. There is some olive oil and red wine vinegar as well as salt and pepper involved. I could have topped it with the required feta cheese, but it was Dormition Fast, so Nina and I had cheese on the side.

Nina is wondering when I will stop taking pictures and we can start eating.

Then came Transfiguration after the annual blueberry picking. It was a great experience as always to pick one's own berries and pay next to nothing for them. It does make you appreciate the hard work that goes into it...especially when the priest's daughter keeps grabbing handfuls of your berries and putting them in her own bucket. "But you have so many," she said when I told her to knock it off. It is the only time I have given a moderately-conservative reply: "Then get busy picking your own!"

The second week of the fast we were going to the Methow Valley with friends. I had missed the farmer's market the week prior because of Transfiguration, so I had to make due with other farmer's markets that were not as good. Then I just got frustrated not being able to use the ingredients I wanted to use. So, I hiked down to Pike Place Market, with Nina strapped on, to find produce that was coming from local farmers as well as local vendors. I found some good looking citrus and an organic watermelon that looked small but felt so heavy by the time I got back up the hill. I had bruises on my shoulders from hoisting child and produce and was thankful this was not a permanent lifestyle choice.

We are so spoiled with our clean grocery stores and cheap food. I tend to be anti-corporations not because of my natural socialist tendencies, but because I believe that companies are so much bigger than the individual and it would be difficult for anyone to negotiate a better price for a product with a large entity behind it. So, I am saddened that I have gone back to the Trader Joe lifestyle after the fast.

Still, it has given me resolve that I as a consumer can control the market by only buying produce that is seasonal and trying to buy items that are locally grown. It will cost more money, but it will be money well spent if I can support local farmers. It is also so much better for my need to cultivate patience and moderation. While I may want to eat zucchini in the dead winter, the amount of fuel it took to get to me is not worth it to the earth which God gave man.

More Laughing Baby

For of course all to view, but especially for my dad on his birthday!

Transfiguration Reflection

St. Katherine's Church has a monthly newsletter (The Arena) that contained an article I wrote! For those of you who do not receive the newsletter, here is the article. I hope to write a follow up blog post!

“To everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” --Ecclesiastes 3:1

Lance (Gregory), my husband, really likes chips and cereal. I, on the other hand, adore bread. My late grandfather and my father cultivated my love of it by introducing me to the joys of freshly baked pan dulces (sweet bread) with a steaming cup of coffee in the morning. Whenever a major fast comes along, the church does not, thankfully, prescribe us to fast from cereal, chips, and bread. In the past, I have made a point during a fast to avoid all processed food save those three items. However, with the birth of our child, I found it increasingly difficult to get meals on the table much less made-from-scratch meals. While I use the weekends to prep meals for the week, I also find inspiration from Holy Tradition as a way to go beyond the ubiquitous tofu and hummus so prevalent in our fasting diet.

At the Feast of Transfiguration, which always falls on August 6^th during the Dormintion Fast, the Church blesses fruit for eating. “Grapes, in general, fruit from orchards such as apples, pears, and plums,” are blessed “in order to ask the Lord’s blessing on the fruits of the harvest.” (From The Law of God complied by Archpriest Seraphim Slobodskoy -- my go-to book for all Festal information) I am not sure if this tradition is a “big T” Tradition or a “little t” tradition. Regardless, it is a beautiful one. The fruit blessing tradition may come from the Hebrew calendar where the tending of vines and harvesting of grapes takes place Tammuz through Elul (June through September). The summer months are generally harvest time – after all, summer break is a tradition held over from a time when children needed to be back on the farm to help with the harvest. St. Katherine’s has often gone to local farms to pick blueberries for the blessing fruit on Transfiguration. For the occasion, I fill a large basket with blueberries, peaches, jalapenos, and other fruits, just like at Pascha.

The Transfiguration fruit blessing is bittersweet to me. I love it because such a wonderful and simple gift such as fruit is blessed. On the other hand, the blessing of fruit is disheartening to me because reminds me that our culture has removed itself from the farm tradition. The produce in the grocery stores is sparkling clean and waxed, which is not how they look when callused hands have harvested them from the earth. I have shopped at farmer’s markets and stands, but the ease and convenience of the Trader Joe’s plastic wrapped zucchini (in December!) is more often how I buy produce. I want my daughter to understand the labor and cultivation that goes into producing the food she eats. Ideally, she would know who grew her food and (perhaps) would not reject the spinach I have served because she knew the farmer who grew it.

In consequence, I have given my family a challenge for the Dormition Fast – we will buy all of our produce from local farmers. Whether it is at the Farmer’s Market or a farm stand, we will eat from the harvest of our native soil. It will require much patience on my part, as I tend to plan and not improvise. Still, it would be worth a little stretch of my own will and patience to not only support local farms but to also recognize what a glorious bounty of fruits, berries, and produce we have in the Pacific Northwest. May the fast provide us with an opportunity to till the small field in our hearts that we have dedicated to God – with much prayer may that field expand and the harvest of love be plentiful.

In August of 2009 I wrote this blog post “I Don’t Want to Forget This…” because I obviously wanted to remember it.

Transfiguration Peach Salsa (This is what the hubbster called it)

1 yellow peach (diced)

1 different peach (diced)

1 necturine (diced)

(I like the variety of stone fruits for the color)

1/2 cup chopped sweet onion (walla walla is delicious)

2 tbsp cilantro, chopped

juice of two limes

2 jalapenos seeded, ribs cut off, and diced

salt (1/4 tsp or to taste)

Stir this all up in a bowl and then chill in the fridge for about half an hour. Really tasty on fish tacos!

Laughing Baby

For non-Facebook users: Lance was barking into a tin (don't know why) and Nina found it amusing. And Lance found Nina amusing and we were ALL laughing. What did we do before we had her?

Grilled Vegetables

I love vegetables. My parents never had to force me to eat them -- I just loved them. I have in the past few years become enamored with grilled vegetables. Coat them in olive oil, sprinkle a little coarse salt, then toss them on the grill. Nothing is better.

Of course, Martha Stewart completely has my number. It is a love-hate relationship with that jailbird, but I must admit that she hires people that know how to cook. My grilled vegetable salad was inspired by the recent summer issue of Everyday Food

Grilled Veggie Salad

Dressing:

- 2 cloves garlic, minced

- 1 tablespoon lemon zest (if you don't have a zester, peel the zest with a vegetable peeler, then cut into thinnish strips)

- 1 tablespoon lemon juice (zest/peel first, then juice)

- 1 tablespoon dried oregano (or 4 tsp fresh)

- coarse salt and pepper

I combine all of these ingredients (save the s & p) in a small jar (for easy transport if going somewhere). After combining, I taste and add the s & p accordingly.

Vegetables:

Honestly, whatever you want, but these are really tasty grilled after being coated in olive oil and lightly salted:

- Cherry/grape tomatoes or Roma tomatoes -- it is easy to skewer* the little tomatoes, the Romas I toss on the grill

- Zucchini and/or Yellow Crookneck Squash -- M.S. tip: Cut lengthwise (or on diagonal) into strips or wedges to maximize surface area and get great grill marks. You could skewer* by cutting into rounds (for grill marks, the skewer should be parallel to the diameter of the round)

- Bell Pepper -- any color, any size (small ones or jalapenos you may want to skewer*), and toss the whole thing on the grill and turn. After the skin is blistered and charred, place on a board/plate and use a paper towel to pull off the skin (doesn't need to be perfect, just big chunks). Then cut open and pull of the stem and ribs and seeds. With jalapenos it makes GREAT salsa later (leave the ribs on for extra heat)! ***

- Onions -- any color (purple is pretty) or size, just cut in half and put on grill. You could also skewer*.

- Mushrooms -- I am partial to crimini (which should be skewered*), but portabellas are great too. Simply cut the portabella into strips after grilling.

- Eggplant -- I have had spotty results with vegetable as it tends to turn to mush. I want to try the small Asian variety sometime on the grill. Just toss the whole thing on or cut in half -- it isn't worth it to brine it. It can also make great baba ganoush later.

After all veggies are grilled (they should feel a little soft and have grill marks), place in a large serving dish. Slop the dressing on and gently toss. The salad can be served warm or at room temperature.

*N.B. on skewers: SOAK them for AT LEAST 30 minutes. Otherwise the skewer will burn.

Veggies are yummy whether cooked on gas, charcoal, or electric grill. The other lovely thing about them is you don't have to worry about cooking temperatures or time -- let your palate govern how to cook them.

***EDIT: I always wonder "why is the skin not coming off easily?" when I roast bell peppers. The answer: you must let them steam! After pulling them off the grill, place them in bowl and cover (lid or wax paper + rubber band) for 20 min. Then remove and peel, stem, and seed.

A Forced Hand

In my job search, at one point, I prayed "God, if you have something else in mind for me, don't let me get this job. I will take it. So, if there is something else for me to do...Your Will be done and all, but don't let me get this job."

And then I got the offer. I better understand what Julia Sweeney meant when she wrote "And God said 'Ha'". There was a lot of soul searching and crying that happened this weekend.

At one point I wrote on my pros and cons list:

"I really would love to take this job. I feel that is would give me some purpose. I could be useful. Right now I just feel like a huge burden to my husband and my child. I just sit around and watch her all day and try to apply for jobs. The house is a mess. Dinners are mediocre. I feel awful about myself because I do not enjoy staying at home with my child. I am not earning any money which makes just a mooch. What do I contribute to this family? More dishes to clean after meals that boring... Piles of laundry and hair clusters making the house unsightly. More bills for stuff we don’t need because I am bored and have nothing to do...

But, if I took the job, would it be any better? I would earn some money, but it would not be enough... And Nina would be sick [from daycare] and then Lance won’t be earning enough money and he makes more than I do and then where would we be?

... I wish I knew what made a person have meaning but I don’t know it. I suppose I put emphasis on earning money because I tend to equate happiness with stuff. But that is not where happiness comes from. I know that, but I don’t know what do so with myself.

I know I am blessed, but I hardly feel I have earned it."

Quite obviously, I have not been a great state of mind. I have been searching for a job, then finally the promise of one arrived, and yet when I got an offer I found it wasn't what I really wanted. The pay wasn't great and would barely plug the hole on a slowly sinking ship that is our finances. I would be rushed to find care for Nina and feel I had failed at not being an adequate mother to her as well as constantly worried about her well being. If the job was in a field I was interested in pursuing, it would be one thing. But it is in education, and I have been there and done that and wanted out of it.

Why would I then go back to make less money?

With heavy heart I had to decline the offer.

My plan so far is:

1) figure out what I want to do by asking people, researching more, etc.

2) join so sort of group or find ways to socialize so I don't feel so isolated

3) raise Nina as best I can without spending money willynilly

I felt as if my hand was forced and it was not the best time for me to make this choice. Yet, I am confident in the choice I did make. I need to figure out what I want and not pursue something to tide me over.

Baptism, Pt. 2

When I left off, I had just discovered that Lance was the guy I had seen as a prospective student and that I was not blind. I had originally thought he was Joel Nowlin (a colleague of ours) and was not nearly as cute as I remembered. Not that Joel Nowlin isn't great, but he is not Lance.

Anyhow, I did the only sensible thing a Catehuman in love could do and that was get baptized. I was Baptized on January 15, 2001 by Father Dmitri Weber at St. Juliana's. It was the feast of St. Juliana and Bishop Gabriel was there.

My new Godmother, Celeste Ryder, is so sweet -- the most humble and kind person ever and would never admit to this. She is really patient and helped me so much -- whether it was advice or letting me stay with her and her husband, now Deacon Anthony Ryder, during summer break. She had trained as an artist and had received the Bishop's blessing to train as an iconographer. She studied at Jordanville though the harsh winters and spent much time away from home. Now she writes icons. I miss her very much and there is so much I wish I could share with her on a more frequent basis.

Baptism is a gift. My parents and I gave the gift of Faith and tradition that spoke truth to us. What I chose to do with those three gifts was, and is, up to me. It is said that third time is a charm. Let's hope this time my Baptism sticks!

As for why we are at St. Katherine's, that is another story altogether.

For me, St. Juliana's in Santa Fe will be where I "grew up". Lance eventually became a Catehuman and was baptized. I sang in the choir, he served in the altar, and we made a point of going to the Akathist services on Friday (three canons + Akathist being the prayer rule to prepare for Communion) and Vigils on Saturday (complete with three cannons and first hour).

Lance proposed after we both graduated (me a year later than he). We were married in May of 2003 at St. Juliana's. Lance had begun work as a purchaser and technical support at a local solar energy company and I had continued to teach. I was diagnosed with breast cancer six months after we were married. The experience changed our prospective and we decided that staying in Santa Fe was amazing, but we had to move onto other things.

Lance is from Seattle and he wanted to go back to the University of Washington to get an engineering degree. I have always loved Seattle since I first visited in sixth grade. I remember seeing a girl with a shaved head and thought "this place is totally where I want to live." It would be an adventure and I was ready for it.

We had attended St. Nicholas cathedral when we would come up to Seattle for Christmas, but being a parishioner was very different. We had known some Slavonic at St. Juliana's as approximately 40% of the service was in Slavonic. The quaintness of a foreign language soon faded away and then became confusion. Lance took up the duty of reading the Epistle in English and I sang as best I could in the choir. Vigils were the most difficult because we could no longer understand the canons in English nor say the hymns well. The Saturday morning English Liturgy consisted of the priest, the two of us, and our friend Helena.

I was at my wits end by Bright Monday of that year for reasons that still don't make sense to me. I guess I didn't get feel at home like I did at St. Juliana's. I felt as if I had been staying too long with distant relatives who didn't understand why I had joined the family.

I didn't become Orthodox to become Russian. I do greatly appreciate cultural traditions that further illumine the Faith. However, to keep a tradition simply because it is Russian, or Greek, or Serbian, or whatever other culture one could throw in there, smacks of Nationalism that St. Paul addressed in his letters. He didn't approve of it and neither do I.

Lance and I ended up at the Monastery on Vashon a year after we moved to Seattle. It was ROCOR and services were in English. Lance was still in school and so the ferry rides were a nice break from studying. I sang in the choir and eventually directed only because I had a some knowledge about rubrics. The one draw back to the monastery was it was impossible to make it for Vigils and we really missed that element of church life.

Once ROCOR reunited with Moscow, we saw a way to broaden our church options. Lance occasionally needed to stay in town and would go to St. Spiridon's in Seattle. We didn't really like it there; it seemed too big and we like being a part of small communities. That and I am pretty sure this Romanian family thought I was Romanian. Even with a few years distance from the Russian social club that was St. Nicholas, I was uncomfortable being mistaken for any ethnicity other than Mexican (which I am).

A family, the Hunts, at the monastery had gone to St. Katherine's and spoke of it as a great community that they missed. Lance went to scout a Vigil. He came back a bit confused because the service wasn't the same. So I went with him next time and he was right -- parts were missing and some elements just plain odd, but it was pretty close.

We made a break for it sometime in 2007 or 2008. Father John and a few others took notice of us even though I tried to blend into the background. Father John blessed our home and met with us to find out how we could be involved in parish life. Lance was willing to help in the altar, which was welcome as Steve Stchur was looking to retire when Anna was born. I accidently left a tuning fork out so he knew I could sing. I told Father I wanted to lay low for awhile and I would rather not have information about my abilities widely known. I did offer to help with church school and did for a year.

Not a week later did Chris Hunt out me as a former choir director to Dan Homiak at the Kallistos Ware lecture and the gig was up. I didn't join the choir right away and eased myself into it. Singing helps me focus during the service. Now chasing after Nina does - sort of.

I most recently volunteered as Hospitality Shepherdess (baa) and am trying to take the role seriously but not too seriously. Lance and I both had parents who were active in their churches and we don't know any other way to belong to a church but to be involved in Parish life.

In short, I and my family are at St. Katherine's because it is the only English speaking, Liturgically conservative* parish around that is fairly small. Also, there are some really cool people that go there -- folks that think, contemplate, pray, and who are kind and generous.

If St. Katherine's undergoes some dramatic changes, we might contemplate another switch. For now, oddities in Liturgics aside, we love our church family and it is home.

*By the way, that is the only time I would ever see being conservative as a positive. Ever.

Baptism, Pt. 1

St. Katherine's is getting a new Priest in July and he asked us to write a "Spiritual Biography". He wanted to get a sense of the parish and how folks came to St. Katherine's.

Lance immediately said he did not want to do it. Apparently, he is not in a great place to talk about why he is at St. Katherine's.

So, I started to write a draft in my diary (which is over 10 years old and is not even half filled) and read it to Lance. We both found it funny and I thought I would share it on my blog.

I have been baptized three times.

The first I do not remember as I was a baby. My mother was Catholic when I was born and it was important to her that I be baptized. My father, apparently, raised no objections though he was Seventh-Day Adventist.

The second time I was baptized was when I was 10 or 11 years old. I do not recall the exact date, but somewhere in my mother's garage exists an embroidered handkerchief with the date. Obviously, I have lost track of it. I do remember the second baptism. I remember my father told me the parish council thought I was too young -- the SDA church typically baptizes at age 12. I remember talking to Pastor David Brass about my relationship with God. Pastor Brass is one of the nicest Pastors I knew and I will always think of him fondly. When he dunked me three times in the adult font at church, my feet rose to surface each time. My mother found this comical. I cannot quite recall who was there, but we must have had family because there was a pink iced "Congratulations" cake at the Top Gallant Court house in Houston. (We lived there while my Tio Jorge and Tia Lulu were in Kentucky -- it was their home.)

I grew up SDA and, besides an occasional Mass for a wedding or funeral on my mother's side, it was all I knew. My parents believed in God, we prayed at every meal (eaten at home or out), we attended every church service possible, and we carried our Bibles to church every Saturday. My parents were very involved in parish life -- my father on Parish Council, my mom helped with Sabbath School, and both lead the teen group until we moved to San Antonio.

No one knew my father's addiction to pornography or how I found it in second grade. So, when my father had an affair that lasted through my high school years, it came as a shock to our church community.

Dr. Flum, my OB, said once that the beginning of adolescence is when a child finally recognizes a parent's humanity -- his flaws and faults. I had my moment as a sophomore in high school and turned from God when I found out all that had happened in my parents marriage. If Christianity could not provide a stable home, I would find some other truth.

I became an atheist for the remainder of high school and when I turned 18 I no longer went to church with my parents. I volunteered at Planned Parenthood and at an event I discovered the Unitarian Church. I began to attend services and became obsessed with Transcendentalism. Having dispensed with Christianity and searching for truth, I had a natural home in the Unitarian Church.

Before my senior year, when I was 17, I traveled to Greece, Turkey, and Italy on a school trip. Outside the cave where St. John wrote the book of Revelation, I saw a young man wearing a St. John's College t-shirt. I could not believe my luck -- since Sophomore year of high school I was enamored with this college. I had read every piece of literature I could find and was determined to go there.

After being a complete nuisance and obnoxiously irreverent in the cave of St. John, I made a point of connecting with this guy. As it happened, he was Greek Orthodox. I didn't really care as my main goal was to know more about the college. Though he attended the Annapolis campus and I was interested in the Santa Fe Campus, I was so excited to meet someone and get a first hand account of what it was like. He painted an ideal picture for me and I made a point of going.

I went in October of 1997 to visit St. John's College and there in a Sophomore math class I saw the most gorgeous guy ever. He was quiet in his blue hooded sweatshirt, curly brown fro encircling his head like a halo and large glasses framing his green eyes. The Great Books Program plus the promise of cute boys was all I needed -- I applied, was accepted, and started in the fall of 1998.

About half way through Freshman year, I read Plato's dialogue "Timaeus" and began to think about God again. I had read parts of the Kabbalah before I started St. John's and decided that since Christianity had failed me, I would become Jewish. I talked to Jewish friends, attended Purim and Passover meals, and bought a menorah for Hanukkah. Still, it seemed like a majority of being Jewish was ethnicity and I didn't have that background. I wanted to be a part of some ancient tradition but was running up against a wall.

At the time I was dating a guy who converting to Catholicism -- the cute guy from the Sophomore math class was no where to be seen. I began to attend church with the Catholic Catechumen which was a huge step for me. Growing up SDA, I was warned about the Catholic Church. They worshiped idols. The Pope was just Satan in disguise. It was all very evil and suspicious and the Godfather was cited as a reference (or something written by Mario Puzo).

I actually found it quite nice. The hymns were pretty, it had an organized system for services, and I liked the religious art. The statues were a little disconcerting, as were the relics; I was beginning to like Christianity a little better though.

One day in Mass it struck me that Sunday was a celebrated day for all Christians as a commemoration of Christ's resurrection. I mentioned this to my boyfriend at the time and he replied "Um, YEH," in a rather incredulous tone.

I was, as they say, hooked after that. Many of the prayers and Saints were starting to make sense to me. I bought prayer cards of two saints -- St. Joan of Arc and St. Therese of Liseux (the little flower) -- and tried praying. I wanted God, Christ, tradition, ritual -- still something about Catholicism wasn't right. My boyfriend mentioned the "backwards cousins" to the Catholics: the Orthodox. It sounded intriguing to me.

In San Antonio I purchased a copy of The Orthodox Faith by Bishop Kallistos Ware. During Christmas break Sophomore year I began to go to Orthodox services. The biggest listing in the phone book was for Annunciation Greek Orthodox Church and I went to as many services as I could. I found a little envelope in the pews: check here for tithing, here for other gifts, check here if you are interested in learning more about the Orthodox Church. I checked the box, gave my mom's address, and read all the pamphlets they sent.

It sounded amazing, but I was going back to school and didn't know if there were any Orthodox churches in Santa Fe. I mentioned this to my boss at the time, Matt Johnston. Turned out he was a Catechumen at a local Orthodox church. It was Russian though. I hemmed and hawed about wanting to go, but I didn't want to commit. He said it was no problem, he would pick me up on Sunday. And so I went and never stopped going.

St. Juliana's Russian Orthodox Church was a ROCOR parish under Bishop Gabriel and served by Father Cyprian at the time. Father Cyprian, however, was moving back to Georgia and I would have to wait to be baptized. Still, before the summer, I was made a Catechumen. I could have chosen St. Genevieve for my patroness and kept my old name, Jennifer. But, I never really liked the name anyway. So, I chose "Juliana" because I wanted my children to know where our family became Orthodox. Not that I thought I would have children or get married -- but it like saying "when I win the Lotto" and never playing. It was just one of those things I thought.

I had been accepted to the Minority Medical Education Program in Chicago for the summer before Junior year and planned on working in Admissions half the time. I was in the office when I received a phone call from a mom frantically trying to get arrangements squared away for her son who was going to transfer from Annapolis to Santa Fe for his senior year. Parents were not supposed to call the 1-800 number, but I always disregarded this because I knew long distance rates were high.

After talking with the mom and getting the necessary information to transfer her call, I discovered her son was Phil Navarro, the guy I met outside the cave of St. John in Greece. We were both so excited to connect and she seemed really excited that I was Orthodox. "But I am in a Russian parish," I said. "Oh, it's all the same," she replied.

Matt Johnston had hired his friend Lance Kirmeyer to help out in admissions that summer. The odd thing about St. John's is you knew who everyone was even though you hadn't been introduced. Lance had said "Nice singing" to me in the cafeteria after a chamber choir concert I was in and made some sort of joke about me being bored at the front desk. And he knew my name though we hadn't met. Lance had a pretty sweet deal -- he worked Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. I didn't really care for him and it didn't seem like he cared all that much for me.

When I came back from Chicago, it was a different story altogether. I had a traumatic experience in Chicago with folks being a little gruffer than I was used to in the South/Southwest and accommodations less than ideal. Add to that an adventure finding a ROCOR parish in Des Plains and going to a fairly hostile Greek church and it made for interesting stories to share with Lance while we were stuffing envelopes. Turned out he had taken a year off after Sophomore year to travel around the world and he shared his adventures with me. And I had broken up with my boyfriend. And he had kind of stopped seeing, or at least pursuing, some girls he was interested in pursuing. And he covertly asked me out, and we stayed up all night talking, and we just kept hanging out. Once evening, about 2 am, I realized he was the guy I saw when I visited St. John's as a prospective student. After a series of questions about where he was Sophomore year, it turned out he was the guy. The guy!

Now, I was becoming Orthodox and a new priest was on the way to St. Juliana's. And Lance was very interested in me and doing things very un-Orthodox even for a Catechumen. What was I do to?

To be continued...

For Those Non-Facebook Users

Tired

I am so tired of applying for jobs. The rejection really gets to you and you just want to give up. Or send a cover letter like this:

To Whom It May Concern,

I am applying for a job.

I know that might be obvious as you are reading this cover letter, but I am frankly bored by the whole process of applying for jobs. I continually revamp my cover letters and resumes, carefully tailoring them to every job I apply for and never get. Well, enough is enough. I WANT TO WORK ALREADY! Chances are you already know who you will hire and, if you are the type of person I do NOT want to work for, it will be someone you know from college. But, you had to post the position to be fair, or legal, or fairly legal. If that is the case, just stop reading now because I don't work for your kind. If you are honest, then read on please.

I am smart enough to know that there are at least 100 cover letters that are coming across your desk and you probably skim over the detailed descriptions of folks' past experiences.

I will make mine short and sweet: I went to college, I read a lot of books, I graduated, and I taught middle school for eight years. I am incredibly tech savvy and communicate well. I could run this country much less whatever job I am sending this letter to in hopes of gaining employment.

Why did I give up teaching? Because I have a child now and teaching sucks up a lot of one’s home time -- time that I would rather give to my child and husband. Sure, the opinion of a teacher’s work is rather low right now. Apparently I spent eight years baby-sitting and only working 5 hours a day for only 9 months of the year.

I wonder what happened to all those hours when I woke up at 5 a.m. to start grading papers or planning for some thrilling lesson. I wonder about all of those hours of professional development outside of school or during the summer, not to mention the time I spent after school tutoring students so that they could feel confident in who they are much less confident about math (which I taught for seven of those eight year). All those papers I took home to grade over Christmas vacation were gifts from my students (at least they were being thrifty).

I guess the 40+ hours I worked was only a fiction maintained in my head for eight years – which is odd because I never showed up for work intoxicated or high. Not once. Ever. Did I mention that I taught junior high? A little something something would have made it all much more bearable, but I chose to be competent rather than crude.

I have chased after rowdy kindergarteners during a cultural drumming exhibition (to the delight of my eighth graders), maintained blogs with countless pdfs so no child would be left behind when she conveniently left the rubric for a project due the next day in her locker for the past two months, had less than friendly conversations with parents who expected me to raise their child and teach them grammar, as well as changed my grades when a student at the 12^th hour finally turned in an assignment that would change her D- to a C-.

I been to Hades and back – it was fun but not thrilling, and compared to taking care of my baby, your job would a vacation.

I work hard for the money. So hard for it, honey. I could be a stellar employee if you would just hire me – and if you have a sense of humor.

If not, then clearly I am not the employee for you.

Kind Regards,

J. J. K.

Well

I have been so busy these past two weeks. First it was the massive amount of church services that came out of seemingly no where. Add to that Lance's need to study obsessively for his Professional Engineering exam. Then Nina decided to be needy and hardly strayed farther than 6 inches from me for more than 30 seconds. It was really annoying.

So, in consequence, I have not been able to blog.

Still, I am doing well. My gallbladder surgery scars are nicely healed and my bellybutton looks ok -- pregnancy did not do it any favors. I ate some ice cream the other day because: 1) it was old, 2) it was taking up room in my freezer. No problems to report after eating it.

Yet, I continue to lose weight. I noticed the other day that my one working mammary gland is huge. It is seriously massive. So, this week I have made it my goal to eat a lot more food. With Nina's neediness and my need to get stuff done, I rarely have time to eat. I just have to make more of an effort to get some food in my system because obviously Nina has been needing more milk. Lance felt my arm the other day and said "we gotta put some meat on your bones."

No joke. Lance never makes comments about my weight, so it came as a bit of a surprise.

In the midst of all the church services, and Lance's crazy studying, and Nina's neediness, I am also trying to coordinate Holy Week/Pascha preparations for church and family including sewing some clothes for Nina. If I get to sew some clothes for myself, it would be a miracle.

I am beginning to fear that I will never get to rest. My time is never my own nowadays and I would frankly welcome going back to work -- I might be able to get some rest then! I am applying for three jobs that I would really love to get, but only God and the people hiring know if I will get it.

So, all is well. I have first-world problems and I shouldn't complain.

Kitchen Experiments 2: The Sequel

Since discovering that my gallbladder was on the fritz, I have avoided red meat and pork as much as possible. I continue to remind myself that the allure of the hotdog would make me REALLY feel terrible. Telling myself I can't have lamb will be even more difficult.

I have had success eating buffalo (or bison) in the past -- no vomiting after or worse coming from the other end.

I remembered a recipe Rachel Ray wrote in her 2, 4, 6, 8 cook book for lamb meatballs. Lance and I had both enjoyed them (when I could eat lamb) and I figured lamb had about the same consistency as bison (or buffalo).

Modifying her recipe, I was able to create my won delicious recipe.

Buffalo Meatballs (approximately 16 tbsp sized meatballs)

1 lb buffalo (or bison)

3 cloves (medium size) garlic - peeled

1/2 small onion (about the size of a tennis ball)

1/4 cup parsley

1 small red bell pepper - cut and seeded (really, any bell pepper would do)

2 tbsp olive oil

salt & pepper

1. Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees.

2. Place garlic, onion, parsley, bell pepper, and olive oil in a food processor. Pulse to get everything somewhat chopped, and then grind to a smooth consistency (not quite pesto, but smooth).

3. Place buffalo in a medium sized bowl and add salt and pepper. Add mixture from food processor and really mix well with the buffalo.

4. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper. Using a large spoon, scoop about a tablespoon sized amount of the mixture and place it onto the baking sheet (on the paper). There should be about 16 meatballs total.

5. Bake meatballs for about 10 - 12 minutes until liquid runs clear. You could save the liquid and freeze it for future use OR use the drippings to make a pan gravy for the meatballs.

I served these meatballs along with a Lenten pasta bake; Nina liked her 2 cubic centimeters of cooked meatball smashed and blended with caramelized butternut squash and breastmilk.

Look for a future recipe for AMAZING vegan scones!

St. Patrick's Day!

I love the color green. For as long as I can remember, it has been my favorite color. Perhaps because I loved Kermit the frog as a young child, perhaps because green is the color most associated with nature and life, I love it. The green buffalo grass in summer (in Texas), the quaking green of aspen leaves in the spring (in New Mexico), the green moss that grows in abundance in winter (in Washington), and my favorite dish of green beans and shallots at Thanksgiving -- green is just marvelous. I could also go on for years about the virtues of green chile, a substance I once abhorred and now crave beyond belief. I also happen to have a complexion that rocks most shades of green.

St. Patrick's Day is naturally a day where I don't have to worry about finding something to wear. I had a student once ask me if I liked green because I wore it every day. Ha! If she only had a look at my wardrobe, she would understand the extent of my green obsession.

Besides green being the official (Catholic) color of St. Patrick's Day, I also love this day because I love St. Patrick.

St. Patrick is dear to me not because he is my patron (St. Juliana of Lazarevo is) nor has he interceded for a miracle for me (that was St. Nicholas -- see this blog post), but I am just in awe of his life.

Captured and sold into slavery, he was able to escape only to have God tell him to go back and convert those who held him captive. Like most Apostles, or Equal-to-the-Apostles (St. Nina is a good example), St. Patrick listened to God which is quite unlike me. I am willful. I don't like talking to others about God or my faith -- it isn't shame, it is just that I get all defensive and am generally not good at it. I would NEVER make a good missionary. Yet, there are people out there that are AMAZING apostles and can convert whole countries. They inspire others to love God and teach them the truth!

Yet, I named my child after an Equal-to-the-Apostles for a good reason: even if it is not our talent to go forth and preach the Gospel, literally, to others, as a Christian we are held to a standard of preaching the Gospel figuratively through our actions. The two commandments Christ said were most important were to love God and love others. Loving others is not merely social justice, but also a turning of another's heart to God and His divine grace. However, shoving how wrong someone's lifestyle is in their face does not win many followers. Not blinking an eye to their choices and embracing them as a fellow man loved by God, I believe, is.

May St. Patrick pray for us and teach us all how to love each other more fully and so fulfill the law of God.

Kitchen Experiments 1

I have been playing around in my kitchen lately. I do love cooking and Lent tends to inspire me to create meals from scratch that require little or no fake meat products.

One of my favorite meals to make is Aloha Burgers, which are veggie burgers sauteed with teriyaki sauce and pineapple. I sometimes top them with curry mayo and always make sure to put spicy Dijon mustard on them.

However, in the past the v.burgs tended to stick to the non-stick skillet because there was an insufficient amount of oil in the sauce. The pineapple tended to suffer as well.

Recently, I decided to add a little dark sesame oil in the pan prior to putting the v.burgs and pineapple on to cook. The result was FANTASTIC -- nice crispy outside with all of the lovely salty tang of teriyaki.

Aloha Burgers:

- Veggie burgers (1 per person -- I like Annie's low sodium CA burgers and recently discovered Chez Gormet by Marie, Oregon Treat. Both veggie burgers are low in sodium and contain almost no soy. The Chez Cormet burgs are also gluten free.)

- Multi-grain hamburger buns (1 per burg - I like the ones at Trader Joe's. If I have extras, I toss them in the freezer for next time.)

- 2 pineapple rings per burger (canned or fresh doesn't make much difference -- if I have extras, I also toss them in the freezer with the pineapple juice which could be used for smoothies)

- Teriyaki sauce

- Dark sesame oil

- 1 tbsp Mayo + 1 tsp curry powder: approx 1/2 tbsp mayo per burger)

- Mixed greens (approx 1/2 cup loosely packed per burg)

(You can roast butternut squash or sweet potato to accompany this dish -- I just choose whatever starch is hanging around pre-made in my fridge.)

1. Heat dark sesame oil in pan over medium heat -- about 1 tsp per veggie burger.

2. Place pineapple and v.burgs on plate. Put approximately 1 tsp teriyaki sauce on one side of each and spread evenly.

3. Place pineapple and v.burgs in pan TERIYAKI side DOWN. Leave alone for about 3 minutes. While they cook, toast buns and put together curry mayo.

4. Just before flipping pineapple and v.burgs, place another teaspoon of teriyaki sauce on one side. Spread evenly, THEN flip. Leave alone for another 2 minutes or so. Have buns lined up and ready (mayo spread, lettuce on hand to top burgers).

5. When burgers are ready, place on the bottom bun, then place pineapple on top, then add lettuce onto pineapple, and top with top of the bun. Eat immediately!

I also have been experimenting with buffalo and scones, though not together. Will post that later as I need to wake my offspring soon!

So Many Thoughts, So Little Time

I have made it a goal to blog at least once a weekday during Lent. I have to start one of my lists here to remind myself of all the thoughts that have been racing around my head:

- Baptism

- Recipes and Kitchen Experiments

- The Cookbook Collector Review

- Glee Episode = Best "The Talk" EVER

Wow -- that is almost a week's worth of blog posts!

Oh yeah, and

- Prophecy (Book of Isaiah)

- The Saplings Review

These will all have to wait because I need to get Nina up so she can be on her new daylight savings time schedule.

Know Your Limits

I have been blogging daily since Lent officially began. I had made it a goal along with exercise for at least 40 minutes daily.

I was doing fairly well, perhaps not so much with the exercise, but blogging was going fine.

Then I ate koliva for breakfast, an almond butter and jelly sandwich for lunch, followed by a peanut butter cookie flavored Larabar.

Apparently this was TOO MUCH for my gallbladder-less body. Yesterday was a difficult day and I was not able to blog.

I am slowly learning my limits for my body and I would do well to pay attention: nuts have A LOT of oil! Good oil, but oil none the less.

Koliva

My first attempt at making koliva was not so good. Lance was all excited when he saw me mixing it in the bowl and begged me to save a little for him when I came back from the Liturgy for the Departed.

I came back home with about 4 cups of koliva and that is a low estimation. While the koliva looked pretty, it was unbelievably crunchy due to the very undercooked wheat berries. I served Lance a cup of koliva and our conversation went something like this.

Lance: "I really have to chew this stuff."

Me: "I know; I needed to let the wheat berries cook longer."

(minutes later)

Lance: "My jaw is hurting from having to chew so much."

Me: "Then stop eating it!"

(I walk away in a huff)

I tried to re-constitute the koliva by adding hot water to it. Sadly, I forgot that when one heats sugar and water together, one makes simple syrup. The simple syrup then combines with the graham cracker crumbs to form a sort of honey gravy.

The result being slightly underdone wheat berries with lots of hot fruit and almonds in a honey gravy.

This morning, as Lance watched me eat my syrupy concoction, our conversation went something like this:

Lance: "How is it?"

Me: (I explained the chemistry of trying to revive the koliva)

Lance: "Hmmm...well I did like it."

Me: "No you didn't."

Lance: "Well, it was your first try!"

Me: "Which means you still didn't like it. Don't say you did when you didn't."

Lance: "I liked the way it tasted."

Me: "If that is the only thing you liked, then you didn't like it."

Lance: (opens mouth)

Me: "Just drop it -- let's talk about something else."

I guess some koliva is better than none at all.

Wait, What?

I had planned to write about some films that were nominated for an Oscar, and then I realized I had seen a grand total of two of the ten films.

So, I think I will write about the list of films and then write about some films I have recently seen that were memorable.

The Other Boylen Sister (British version) -- I LOVED the acting and plot in general. Didn't like how Mary turned to camera to tell her story, seemed too modern.

The Other Bolyn Sister (American version) -- Hm, Eric Bana is dreamy and a bit TOO dreamy for King Henry. Can Scarlet Johansson and Natalie Portman be more GOREGOUS??? Not possible. It was only *slightly* better than the British version

Sweet Charity -- I can see why this film flopped. Shirley Maclaine was AMAZING -- AMAZING! The plot and the musical numbers took way too long. Gotta love Fossy though -- and Chita Rivera!!!

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly -- What a BEAUTIFUL film this was! I really want to read the book because the main character was quite interesting. I enjoyed how the film didn't make him saintly and made him human. I had not seen work by this director and I am really intrigued to see more of his work. I can't recall the name of his latest film, but I will need to see it.

The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest -- If anyone read the book, could you please tell me if the defense attorney was pregnant in the book? My friend and I were wondering about this because no one in the film seems to take her pregnancy into any consideration. Which was pretty cool. If Nina wanted to ever get a real mohawk, I would get the clippers and hair gel. The push ups in jail were AWESOME. I also liked Lisabeth's warthog head earring. Swedish film is just excellent and I liked the conclusion of the series because everyone gets their comeuppance.

It Happened One Night -- I haven't seen a black and white film in quite awhile or one so old. Well, not terribly old. I forgot what it was like when films didn't rely on so much editing to tell a story. The scenes were chalked full of good acting because the actors had to interact more as if they were on stage. They had to give it their all because it would not be easy to cut away bad takes. It was AMAZING -- funny, full of heart, and a happy ending.

*Start Oscar Nominated Film Review*

Films Nominated (those in bold I have seen): Black Swan, The Fighter, Inception, The Kids are All Right, The King's Speech, 127 Hours, The Social Network, Toy Story 3, True Grit, Winter's Bone

The King's Speech -- I love me some Colin Firth and Geoffrey Rush (though I would prefer to see the former in a wet shirt). I also like Helena Bonham Carter, but she was not a big draw for me. The film was well done, but I found myself "underwhelmed" (to quote a friend). It was a feel good movie with EXCELLENT acting. Worth an Academy Award? Well, they won, so I suppose so.

The Kid's Are Alright -- I saw this when it was originally released. I LOVED IT! The acting was terrific and the situations were very true to life. I enjoyed how the moms didn't like the son's friend and it is later that he realized they were right. It just captured all of these moments in one's family life that are simple yet profound.

I REALLY want to see True Grit, Black Swan, and 127 hours in that order. I *might* want to see Winter's Bone if I knew more about it.

Let Us Begin the Fast with JOY!

The few weeks proceeding Lent, Lance and I sit down and discuss what our "rules" will be for the fast. In the past few years certain practices were a given: no meat or dairy, no sex, Prayer of St. Ephraim, and go to every service possible.

Over the years I have added to the list: no eating out, no movies, no TV, no shopping for random stuff, no desserts, no processed foods (except bread and crackers -- Lance also makes an exemption for chips), etc. We try to serve the needy in some way. We try to be kinder to each other.

Last year, Lent presented a new difficulty since I was pregnant. I didn't have to fast from food, prostrations were tricky because my knee decided to give out on me after 2 months, and I had to be on my computer for school.

This year I am breastfeeding, so the traditional Lenten fast is not a possibility. Upon reflection, I have realized that I have not kept normal fast practices for over a year! That is crazy!

I actually enjoy fasting because: 1) I am not a big on cooking meat; if some one else cooks it for me, I can manage, 2) I believe a vegan lifestyle helps preserve our little planet*; God created it for us and we ought to take REALLY good care of it, 3) fasting helps keep one disciplined; if I can stay away from cheese for 40 days, I ought to be able to love others by not getting angry, impatient, or annoyed with them.

Without a "food- based" fast, I find it more difficult for me to abstain from other things. So, I really had to examine my lifestyle to determine how I should enter Lent with joy and not with dragging feet.

I plan to post pictures to facebook because my family and friends in far off places in the world are loving Nina's pictures. I would really like to use Lent to find ways to keep in touch with folks, and facebook helps me do that to some extent.

I do want to blog because I would go insane otherwise. I need to take care of myself and blogging definitely helps keep my mind shaper. Singing "Where is Thumpkin?" 12 times daily does not have the same affect blogging does.

I also want to be more active. I had heard of a plan to do "40 for 40" where one exerts oneself 40 minutes daily for the whole fast. Exertion can include walks, jogs, dancing, etc. -- the point is to keep moving!

Also, I have to cut out the TV. Ever since we got cable, I tend to watch too much while breastfeeding Nina. With all the Buffy and ANTM marathons, it is very easy to just sit on the couch and not attend to the necessary things in life.

Though we plan not to let Nina watch TV until she is two, I know she is listening when the TV is on and I don't want her absorbing too much of the insanity that is modern television. If she gets influenced by Iron Chef America, that might not be a bad thing...no, no, I will only watch three programs a week and that will be the only time the TV will be used.

I have other practices that I plan to keep, but I want to practice them in secret. The only other person who knows what I will do is Lance because it is important to communicate with your spouse what you will do during the fast. As your souls are united, it is important to help bear the other's burdens.

I always have to keep in mind St. John Chrysostom's homily for Pascha "for those who have fasted, and those who have not, the table is full laden!". Above all these fasting rules, it is more important for me to cultivate a loving heart and a soul that longs for God.

* When Lance and I went to Maui for our honeymoon, we frequented a totally vegan grocery store called "Down to Earth". After a few visits, I realized their bags had vegan statistics printed on them. One of the stats said that if everyone ate a vegan diet for just half the year, we would save TONS of the earth's resources. I found it really cool since the Orthodox practice of fasting has one keep a mostly vegan diet for half the year!

Appalled

It does not take much to get me relied up, but it does take quite a bit to make me utterly and completely appalled by the actions of others. I tend to let things go when it comes to people and their choices. Two recent news stories however, have me TOTALLY AND UTTERLY APPALLED.

First, on the less tragic end: Mike Huckabee Slams Natalie Portman for Out-of-Wedlock Pregnancy

I dislike the s-word very much, but it here it goes: MIKE HUCKABEE YOU SUCK YOU FILTHY, STUPID HYPOCRITE.

So, Natalie Portman, not only a fine actress but a DECENT human being, gets pregnant out-of-wedlock. SO WHAT? Many people do and sometimes some of them decide to end the life of their child. WOULD YOU RATHER HAVE HER DO THAT?

Yes, she is famous, has lots of money, and she will be able to hire help -- good for her. That hardly means that young women will see her state and say "omg, Natalie totally rocked that $40K maternity gown, I need to get preggers so I can has one too!!!1!1!!!". If that were true, then there would be a lot more "meat-ware" ala Lady Gaga. Have your crack research team check out this blog post while you are at it.

Decide what it is YOU REALLY STAND FOR Huckabee before you decide to mouth off about a woman CHOOSING to have a child when she isn't married.

Second, in the VERY TRAGIC end: Suspect in Houston Day Care Fire Still Missing

My mom called yesterday to check in and chat. I was getting Nina ready for bed and finally got to talk to mom when Nina was nursing. Towards the end of our conversation, my mom mentioned this news story about a woman with a home daycare. Allegedly, Jessica Rene Tata left SEVEN toddlers and pre-school aged children home by themselves while she went shopping at Target (authorities have her on film in Target sans children in her care). She must have left something on inside her rented apartment because it caught fire. Four children died and two were severely burned. When she returned to find her apartment on fire, she began to tell firefighters and neighbors that there were children in the apartment and offered no help.

She then claimed she needed to go to the hospital for trauma and, because the authorities did not arrest her or charge her with any crime, she was able to get to Dallas and fly to Nigeria where she is now hiding.

While my mother was telling me of this tragedy, I began crying and I suppose something changed in my heartrate and general being because Nina was suddenly wide-eyed and worried.

When Jessica Rene Tata does get extradited to the US, she faces child abandonment and neglect charges. Why she will not be charged with man slaughter is beyond me except that they might be holding off on it in order to lure her back into the country. I can only assume she fled because she knew in Texas she would face the death penalty.

So, if you know anyone in Nigeria, pass along this picture of a woman who is on the run after killing four children, injuring several others, and leaving their families devastated.

May God have mercy on us all.