Archive for 2007
sunday scribblings: behold the power of yum
Prompt #46: Yummy/Yum
“Yummmm…” Laura hummed as she swirled a yellow bear with a penchant for honey through the air, swooping down to pick up newspapers with its paws.
She was using every available weapon in the war to get her tea party-playing 3-year-old daughter to help get the house in order.
Lila was probably getting too old to be fooled by the Yum farce, but Laura’s date would be arriving in less than 15 minutes, the babysitter was a half hour late, her six-year-old son was running around in only his underwear brandishing a glowing green sword, and she was pretty sure her hair was streaked with mashed potatoes.
And now even Yum was failing her.
Yum was Lila’s favorite toy, and for a long six months about a year back, was the only authority that Lila would obey. Whether or not a new boss had taken his place was debatable.
“Come on sweetie. You know Mommy’s new friend is coming over soon. Even Yummmm wants a clean living room.” Laura nuzzled Yum’s face into Lila’s neck. “See how he helps Mommy?” Laura carried Yum and the newspapers to the recycle bin in the kitchen and returned to find Lila serving more tea to a rather busty plastic doll.
Yeah, like she’d waste calories on that, Laura thought, blowing her too-long bangs off her forehead. Why didn’t I get my haircut?
Hands on hips, Laura surveyed the rest of the mess and caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the glass protecting last year’s Christmas portrait. The first one without Steven.
Doorbell. Oh God, please let it be the sitter.
“Sorry I’m late,” said Tracy, the bubbly blonde, green-eyed daughter of one of Laura’s dearest friends. “My brother came home. . . .”
“I’m just glad you’re here,” Laura said turning away from the door and grabbing some stray books with Yum’s paws. As she walked to the bookshelf, she looked over at Lila, who was wiping off her play table. Laura flung Yum on the couch next to her nearly naked son and his sword. At least he’s not running around.
“I don’ t mean to be short, and I know this isn’t really part of your job, but could you please tidy this place up, get some clothes on Lyle, and keep Lila occupied all in the next seven minutes? Chris will be here any minute, and well . . .” Laura circled her face with a finger and then flung her hands downward indicating the rest of her.
“Oh! Your big first date. Get in there and get pretty!” Tracy said, turning Laura around and pushing her lightly. “ER! Pretti-ER!” Tracy said while scooping up Yum and a bunch of markers from the coffee table.
“Yum!” Lila cried, finally noticing that her favorite bear was in the room. “I help Yummmm and Tracy!” Lila squeezed both of them to her.
Once in the safety of her own spotless bathroom, Laura ran a brush through her hair (no mashed potatoes!) and flipped it up into a ponytail. It’s only a coffee date, she reasoned. Ponytails are entirely appropriate for cappuccino.
As she flicked on some mascara, the doorbell rang again and scared the wand out of her hand. Luckily she was on the upswing, or things could’ve gotten ugly. As it was, the big black streak on the mirror was the only damage, quickly repaired by a wipe with a damp tissue.
While studying her laughlines in the mirror, she realized that she just sent a smoking hot 22-year-old to the door to meet her first date since the divorce. At least this wasn’t a blind date–Chris already knew what he was getting into from all the impromptu run-ins at the drugstore.
“Your date’s here!” Tracy yelled from the door. Laura swiped on lipstick–or was that gloss–and flipped off the light. Next stop: hopefully a clean living room.
And it was. And her children were clothed and seated on the couch, Yum between them, flipping through an L.L. Bean catalog.
Twenty spot for Tracy.
“Hi,” Laura said, leaning into kiss Chris on the cheek. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“No problem,” Chris said with the smirk that hooked her. “You look great.”
Laura smoothed out her sweater before answering. “Thanks. Have you met my children?”
“Yes, Mommy,” Lila said looking up from a page of chinos. “And I even told him we were talking about him before.”
“Oh yeah?” Laura scanned her memory for what they could’ve possibly said about Chris but came up with nothing. “And what did we say?” she asked with narrowed eyes.
“Yummmmmmmmmm!”
And there was that smirk again.
Yum indeed.
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[tags]sunday scribblings, yum, yummy, writing fiction, fiction, flash fiction, short stories[/tags]
Getting To Know Me: Me, Not Me
Here’s a little glimpse into me (or not me) inspired by Karla at Tales of a Texpatriate.
That means I stole the idea.
Me.
Not me.
Me.
Not me.
Me.
Not me.
Me.
Not me.
Me.
Not me.
Me.
Not me.
So, so me. Purr.
Pretty, but just not me.
Me.
Not me. Not by a long chalk.
Me.
Not me.
Me.
Not me.
Me.
Not me.
Me.
Not me.
Me.
Not me.
And last but certainly not least, me.
Absolutely, most definitely not me
(and Luna thanks me every day).
feeding, dreaming, and teaching (not at the same time)
Well, I finally have put in the RSS feed link in my right column (thanks Paola!). I had done the FeedBurner thing a while ago, and when I saw the little icon pop up in the address bar, I figured that was enough. But maybe only people with Firefox could see that? Not really sure, but now it should be much easier for anyone who would like to keep current with all the exciting things that happen around here.
Hey, sooner or later, something exciting is bound to happen.
No pressure, um, but, subscribe, would you? It’ll give me a warm fuzzy and all. And a warm and fuzzy blogger is a good blogger.
Or, ain’t nobody happy if the blogger ain’t happy. So do oblige. Please?
In other news, to balance my crazy bomber dream, I recently dreamed that two white doves flew into my house (male and female). I picked one up and stroked its head, but then when I put it down, it couldn’t stand. I thought I had injured it, but no, she was giving birth, thus the trouble remaining upright. Understandable, especially because she was birthing an entire bird.
Yes, I’m well aware that birds lay eggs, but in my subconscious, birds give birth to little birds, fully formed. Maybe this is because I’m so freaking tired of seeing all these eggs around my house. Not that I don’t love them, too. Yes, I’m also well aware that I’m all over the place.
Anyway, the male was nearby helping her along, and, in case you’re wondering, all of this is supposed to signify a happy family life for P and me. I’ll spare you the corresponding lottery numbers, but if you really want to know, send me an email.
Honestly, the best part of the dream was that I was neither a killer nor the target of a killer. A good night by anyone’s standards, I would think.
On the teaching front, all continues to go well. I’ve even gained a student by word of mouth spreading, so I must’ve made a good impression during my first week. Of course, I’ve also been scolded for giving too much homework, i.e., exactly what the book provided by the school tells me to assign.
Apparently some of the kids are having difficulty working in time to do a page of exercises after each lesson. This despite the fact that I’ve told them just to give it to me when they’re done and most certainly don’t browbeat them if they haven’t finished by the next class. I don’t grade them or anything, so if they don’t feel like doing it, hey, it’s their parents’ money, right?
I know. I’m a big meanie. I’ll try to cut back.
But on the lighter side, yesterday, in the more advanced class, we did an exercise in which we were stressing the use of relative clauses to describe something when you don’t know the actual word. For example, if you don’t know the word “waiter,” you would say something like “It’s somebody who works in a restaurant and brings your food to the table.”
From my Italian experiences, I know that your phrasing can get rather creative (buying superglue the first time was awesome!), so I figured this would be good for some laughs.
Ooh boy; I had no idea.
When we got to the last word, one of my students really took it to another level. I’m paraphrasing, but the exchange went something like this:
Student A: OK, this can be a verb or a noun. I *think* that everyone here has done this with another person that you like very much….
*raised eyebrows*
Student A: You know, when you are happy, and you want to express how you feel, that you enjoy being with that person, or maybe they’ve done something nice to (she meant “for”) you….
*snicker snicker, eyebrows raising off foreheads*
Student A: I mean, you can also do this with people you don’t know at all, but….
*raucous laughter*
Student A: No! It’s something nice…and…oh! We do this when we meet someone, on each cheek!
(Finally) Student B: KISS!!
Me: See you next week! (replacing eyebrows to usual position)
Mwaaaaaaaaaaah!
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[tags]dreams, doves, birds, ESL teaching, teaching[/tags]
love thursday: lifelong friends
Lifelong friendship is everywhere, every day in Italy. A walk to virtually any piazza will reveal a scene similar to this:
Indeed, many of us expats in Italy lament about how difficult it is to break into an Italian’s close circle of friends. For many Italians, friends are made early on in life and not too many changes are made to the roster, so to speak, no matter how many years go by.
From the outside, this can be discouraging if you’re looking to form lifelong friendships with people who aren’t looking for the same thing. On the other hand, if you’re successful in cozying into that coveted spot, you know you have a special friendship.
But even if we never crack the code, all of us, expat or not, have our own lifelong friends that we know will support us, listen to our complaints, share our happiness, and, quite simply, accept us no matter what happens.
I’m not going to call out anyone here, but those of you out there who are my lifelong friends, know who you are. And I love and appreciate each one of you.
Thank you for enriching every day of my life even though I’m an ocean away (and even if you never comment on my blog).
And not to leave out my newest friends, those in cyberspace, thank you, too, for welcoming me and giving me a virtual home. I can already feel some lifelong friendships in the works.
Happy Love Thursday everyone!
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[tags]love thursday, friendship, lifelong friendship[/tags]
What’s Cooking Wednesday: Cannellini Beans & Chicory
Welcome to another edition of What’s Cooking Wednesday!
Today’s dish is chicory and beans. And for those of you who don’t like beans, I apologize in advance. I’m also sorry for those who have never tried chicory, because it is divine. Note that we eat this as a somewhat light supper, so there’s never an accompanying meat or other vegetable for us.
Many people know that chicory has been used in place of coffee, so maybe that doesn’t exactly make it sound inviting as a vegetable. Oh, but it is. Especially the wild kind, which is harvested throughout the winter down here. Think escarole and endive, and you’re on your way to understanding how chicory can be used. So, on that note, if you don’t have chicory, you can substitute members of the chicory family.
Cannellini beans & chicory
I’m not going to lie to you, P’s mom usually does the dirty work here. I could if pressed, but to steer you on your way, I’ve found a good page that describes the process of soaking and cooking beans. Otherwise, just buy some cans of the beans ready to add to the chicory once it’s cooked — this works too.
For this recipe, you may have to play with measurements to your desired serving sizes and tastes. This recipe makes enough for three rather large portions.
- 2-3 cans of beans
- 2 bunches of chicory
- 6 tablespoons olive oil
- 6 cloves garlic
- 1 medium-sized peperoncino (hot pepper)
- Salt to taste
1. Clean the chicory, chop, and place in boiling, salted water. Let boil for about 5 minutes or until the stems are tender.
2. Remove with slotted spoon and set aside while you heat up olive oil (you need to be generous here, as this is mainly where the greens pick up flavor) on medium heat.
3. Add the garlic and peperoncino and after about two minutes, add the chicory and some salt. Stir well and let this cook for about 10-15 minutes, or until the oil has been mostly absorbed.
4. At this point, add the beans, mixing them in well with the chicory. Also add some more salt and also some water to cover everything. Let this mixture cook for another 15-20 minutes, and taste test for salt level as you may need to add more. I’m not a big salt eater, but this dish seems to require quite a bit to get the maximum flavor.
5. Serve the dish hot with fresh oil drizzled on top. Crusty Italian bread is a must.
Buon appetito!
Michelle Kaminsky is an American attorney-turned-freelance writer who lived in her family's ancestral village in Calabria, Italy for 15 years. This blog is now archived.
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