I ate ice cream for breakfast.
After all, I am on summer vacation and we've been eating relatively healthy lately (grilled portabellas last night? grilled salmon two nights ago? did I mention we got a grill?)Also, the ice cream I ate for breakfast was the ice cream that we (ok, Joshua) made last night in our ice cream maker. Unlike my yellow soppy mess that never thickened and was ultimately tossed down the drain, HIS mint chocolate chip ice cream was smooth and creamy and flecked with pieces of chocolate and specks of mint leaves. (As far as edible plants go, we have basil and mint growing and thriving on our windowsills. Also we have a fish visiting us who is currently living next to the basil, but we are not planning on turning him into ice cream). I was so full from dinner that I only had a few bites of ice cream, but this morning it was even richer and yummier than I remembered. Soothing an empty stomach with chocolate and full-fat dairy...we will see if that's really a good idea.
All of these ridiculous summer pleasures - ice cream, grilling out, shucking corn, being outside in the sun and turning all shades of pink and brown - remind me of my childhood. We had a big backyard that was perfect for running and tag as kids, and then for laying out on beach towels when I got older. I remember sitting on the concrete steps that led to our back door and shucking corn into big paper shopping bags, hoping that no one would forget I was there and body slam the door open carrying a big plate of chicken or hamburgers to the grill (this was not an unwarranted fear. It happened all the time).
On Tuesday, my mom called me and asked where I was. This is her fun, stomach-sinking way of alerting me to the fact that she's calling with bad news - given the past few months, my mind was racing ahead to figure out who possibly could have cancer now. But instead she told me that my father had lost his job.
When your father is 50 years old and has struggled for all of his adult life to get ahead of the curves life has thrown at him (and there have been so, so many), I think that the news that he is unemployed is devastating. My dad takes his role as provider incredibly seriously, and on Monday he was called into his boss's office and told that he had two weeks - TWO WEEKS! it's insulting - until he was done there. They are closing his branch of the office, where he is the only salesman. My parents still have a 16 year old at home but as of June 1, neither of them has a job. And it's just so overwhelming and huge and the prospect of job hunting involuntarily at age 50 is demoralizing and frustrating. And here I am in Chicago, with my new grill and my ice cream maker, surrounded by material comfort and all the benefits that a two-income lifestyle afford. Sick to my stomach, because isn't it supposed to be the other way around?
On Monday night, while we were eating our grilled salmon and talking about our memories of childhood summers, I didn't know that my parents were sitting on their couch mourning the loss of what they do. I assumed they'd be flipping chicken on the grill and possibly knocking my brother off the steps because he's the only one left to get stuck shucking corn, and there's still no place to sit.
I know this post is so discombobulated. I wasn't sure if I wanted to write about my parents at all, even though they don't know I have this blog. But I think that it's the only thing on my mind, even though I've tried to block it out with ice cream breakfasts today, and books and movies yesterday. I'm avoiding it, but it won't let me go.
17 May 2007
14 May 2007
Today, in honor of our second wedding anniversary, I decided to make a special dessert - sweet basil scrambled eggs.
Let's be honest, I was aiming for basil ice cream, but somewhere in the process of heating 8 egg yolks and 4 cups of milk (in my defense - to a precise 175 degrees! and never did it boil!)I made scrambled eggs instead. In one of the greatest displays of optimism I have ever attempted, I then threw it in the ice cream maker anyways. So far, it's still chugging away and the whole thing is disconcertingly yellow (it should be green) and liquid (it should be solidifying). It just goes to prove my suspicions that I am not ready for epicurious. However, I can taste the potential lurking beyond the egg-ness of it all - when my poor hardworking window-ledge basil plant regroups from this tragedy and springs forth new leaves, I'll try basil ice cream again. I will not double the recipe. Or scramble the yolks. Or skip an important "cool-down" step in the recipe that Joshua helpfully pointed out to me after it was all in the ice-cream maker.
The Great Basil Egg Ice Cream Debacle is something that I kind of regret happening on our anniversary. Besides one absolutely horrendous Moroccan eggplant dish I cooked for Joshua the summer we got married, I have surprised myself with a love of cooking and a knack for it. For someone who never wanted to domesticate, finding myself at 23 with a husband and a Kitchen-Aid mixer is sometimes overwhelming, usually surprising, and in all ways a blessing. Until I met Joshua, I had literally never thought about getting married. I was planning on moving to New York City to live in a studio apartment and write the Great American Novel, and maybe get a cat and possibly adopt a baby later in life. By myself. And for those of you who know me now, this sounds absolutely ridiculous - I am clearly fulfilled by my roles as wife, soon-to-be nurse, and future baby mama. I also hate cats and studio apartments, so it wouldn't have worked out anyways. Sorry, NYC.
Joshua and I celebrated four years of togetherness in March, and now we have been married almost as long as we've been a couple. We have had mostly bliss and hilarity - but also sheer exhaustion at the effort it takes to make a marriage and a family and a life together work. We are both fiercely independent people, and compromise does not come easily to us. God has broken our pride through the challenges of marriage, and has softened us both into more compassionate and gracious people. We still manage to do our fair share of whining (me) and complaining (me) and taking our relationship for granted (me again!) but we have also grown so much that sometimes I cannot believe I am still the same girl who walked down the aisle to Etta James singing "At Last". That girl had no idea what a privilege it would be to fall asleep every night next to a loving husband, and also no idea how annoying it would be when that man rolled over and pulled off all her covers. EVERY NIGHT!
To Joshua, the man who pulls off my covers, laughs at my jokes, eats the food that I make (and some that I ruin), supports me, doesn't pull the plug on my Starbucks addiction, gives me space and pulls me close, prays for me and loves me and tries every day to be just a little bit better...
you are my everything and i love you more today than I ever thought possible two years ago...
Sorry about the basil eggs...maybe next year.
Let's be honest, I was aiming for basil ice cream, but somewhere in the process of heating 8 egg yolks and 4 cups of milk (in my defense - to a precise 175 degrees! and never did it boil!)I made scrambled eggs instead. In one of the greatest displays of optimism I have ever attempted, I then threw it in the ice cream maker anyways. So far, it's still chugging away and the whole thing is disconcertingly yellow (it should be green) and liquid (it should be solidifying). It just goes to prove my suspicions that I am not ready for epicurious. However, I can taste the potential lurking beyond the egg-ness of it all - when my poor hardworking window-ledge basil plant regroups from this tragedy and springs forth new leaves, I'll try basil ice cream again. I will not double the recipe. Or scramble the yolks. Or skip an important "cool-down" step in the recipe that Joshua helpfully pointed out to me after it was all in the ice-cream maker.
The Great Basil Egg Ice Cream Debacle is something that I kind of regret happening on our anniversary. Besides one absolutely horrendous Moroccan eggplant dish I cooked for Joshua the summer we got married, I have surprised myself with a love of cooking and a knack for it. For someone who never wanted to domesticate, finding myself at 23 with a husband and a Kitchen-Aid mixer is sometimes overwhelming, usually surprising, and in all ways a blessing. Until I met Joshua, I had literally never thought about getting married. I was planning on moving to New York City to live in a studio apartment and write the Great American Novel, and maybe get a cat and possibly adopt a baby later in life. By myself. And for those of you who know me now, this sounds absolutely ridiculous - I am clearly fulfilled by my roles as wife, soon-to-be nurse, and future baby mama. I also hate cats and studio apartments, so it wouldn't have worked out anyways. Sorry, NYC.
Joshua and I celebrated four years of togetherness in March, and now we have been married almost as long as we've been a couple. We have had mostly bliss and hilarity - but also sheer exhaustion at the effort it takes to make a marriage and a family and a life together work. We are both fiercely independent people, and compromise does not come easily to us. God has broken our pride through the challenges of marriage, and has softened us both into more compassionate and gracious people. We still manage to do our fair share of whining (me) and complaining (me) and taking our relationship for granted (me again!) but we have also grown so much that sometimes I cannot believe I am still the same girl who walked down the aisle to Etta James singing "At Last". That girl had no idea what a privilege it would be to fall asleep every night next to a loving husband, and also no idea how annoying it would be when that man rolled over and pulled off all her covers. EVERY NIGHT!
To Joshua, the man who pulls off my covers, laughs at my jokes, eats the food that I make (and some that I ruin), supports me, doesn't pull the plug on my Starbucks addiction, gives me space and pulls me close, prays for me and loves me and tries every day to be just a little bit better...
you are my everything and i love you more today than I ever thought possible two years ago...
Sorry about the basil eggs...maybe next year.
10 May 2007
Things I Have Learned: Finals Week Edition
- Finals week is incredibly, mind-numbingly, fingernailsonachalkboard agonizingly slow. I am usually in a daze over how quickly Monday through Friday passes. Instead I am in a tizzy over the fact that it is STILL.THURSDAY.
- During the week one needs to study most, one will suddenly lose all motivation, persistence,and drive to succeed.
- However, one will discover a newfound joy in reading celebrity gossip, going to Starbucks to "stay awake", inviting people over for dinner (wha?!) and going to bed early in order to "get up early and study", which really means "get up early and go to Starbucks in order to 'stay awake'". It's a vicious cycle.
- The situation is dire when one decides that instead of grocery shopping and planning for said dinner, one will go to Bath and Body Works to take advantage of the 4 for $10 sale involving antibacterial soap and an overwhelming choice of scents. (in "one's" defense, dinner was excellent and everyone's hands smelled fantastic).
- If the flip top to one's keychain hand sanitizer has become stuck, DO NOT attempt to use your teeth to unstick it. It WILL end up in your mouth, it WILL burn ferociously, and you WILL feel like a complete idiot as you sticks your tongue under the faucet to rinse it off. I think this will remain true even after finals week.
- It is still possible to purchase appropriate cards and presents for two mothers and one grandmother, wrap and mail them on time, and do this on the same day as the Bath and Body Works sale, the grocery shopping, the dinner, and a previously unmentioned employee physical at one's brand spanking new summer job. It is NOT, however, possible to study on this particular day.
- If one has forgotten to wear their Target brand premium plus white strips during the day (due to excessive activities involving other people), an excellent way to multitask is to wear them to bed, set an alarm for 30 minutes later, and then get up, remove the strips, and brush one's teeth. This is really wonderful because one will probably not remember this activity very well the next morning. (Disclaimer!*one's spouse might not find this time saver all that amusing*)
- The craziness and the lack of sleep and the excess caffeine and the scrambling from one activity to the next and the studying and the maladjusted coping are really all worth it when you consider...
I will be done with my junior year in two hours...
I'm 75% done with college as a whole...
by this time next year I'll have a job and a degree...
and there is a bottle of red wine, a long-suffering husband, and Grey's Anatomy waiting to celebrate with me tonight!
- During the week one needs to study most, one will suddenly lose all motivation, persistence,and drive to succeed.
- However, one will discover a newfound joy in reading celebrity gossip, going to Starbucks to "stay awake", inviting people over for dinner (wha?!) and going to bed early in order to "get up early and study", which really means "get up early and go to Starbucks in order to 'stay awake'". It's a vicious cycle.
- The situation is dire when one decides that instead of grocery shopping and planning for said dinner, one will go to Bath and Body Works to take advantage of the 4 for $10 sale involving antibacterial soap and an overwhelming choice of scents. (in "one's" defense, dinner was excellent and everyone's hands smelled fantastic).
- If the flip top to one's keychain hand sanitizer has become stuck, DO NOT attempt to use your teeth to unstick it. It WILL end up in your mouth, it WILL burn ferociously, and you WILL feel like a complete idiot as you sticks your tongue under the faucet to rinse it off. I think this will remain true even after finals week.
- It is still possible to purchase appropriate cards and presents for two mothers and one grandmother, wrap and mail them on time, and do this on the same day as the Bath and Body Works sale, the grocery shopping, the dinner, and a previously unmentioned employee physical at one's brand spanking new summer job. It is NOT, however, possible to study on this particular day.
- If one has forgotten to wear their Target brand premium plus white strips during the day (due to excessive activities involving other people), an excellent way to multitask is to wear them to bed, set an alarm for 30 minutes later, and then get up, remove the strips, and brush one's teeth. This is really wonderful because one will probably not remember this activity very well the next morning. (Disclaimer!*one's spouse might not find this time saver all that amusing*)
- The craziness and the lack of sleep and the excess caffeine and the scrambling from one activity to the next and the studying and the maladjusted coping are really all worth it when you consider...
I will be done with my junior year in two hours...
I'm 75% done with college as a whole...
by this time next year I'll have a job and a degree...
and there is a bottle of red wine, a long-suffering husband, and Grey's Anatomy waiting to celebrate with me tonight!
01 May 2007
Just now, I jumped into bed, grabbed my laptop and textbook and was about to start writing a paper that was due last week and needs to be handed in at 6:45am, after I wake up at 5:45am (yes, it's 10:13 and I'm just starting)...and I'm feeling like something is kind of wrong with the situation...
And it is, because I still have my toothbrush in my mouth. Where I put in 15 minutes before and then proceeded to not brush my teeth but rather just clench it in my jaws of death (and forgetfulness).
This sort of sums up why I have not been blogging lately.
But school is out next week...and I have a job lined up for summer...and a lot more free time...and I will be trying to claw my way back into being a personal favorite of Tricia's.
And it is, because I still have my toothbrush in my mouth. Where I put in 15 minutes before and then proceeded to not brush my teeth but rather just clench it in my jaws of death (and forgetfulness).
This sort of sums up why I have not been blogging lately.
But school is out next week...and I have a job lined up for summer...and a lot more free time...and I will be trying to claw my way back into being a personal favorite of Tricia's.
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