Following, Visiting, and Dancing

First, a little business:

I am embarassed to admit that I just now figured out this whole business of Google Reader, following, etc.! All this time I have been clicking down my little blog least each day to read everyone's posts.

Silly, silly girl.

So if you haven't already, feel free to click the icon on the right to "Follow" this blog.

My friend Mike came to visit last night and we had such a wonderful time catching up with him. I'll save the run-down for a Tuesday Tribute sometime, but Mike is one of my dearest friends from college and is a fantastic guy. We showed him a night on the Memphis town: ribs at Rendezvous, a drink at Silky's on Beale, and then dessert at Cafe Eclectic.

And to top it all off:

I made him watch So You Think You Can Dance (dancedancedancedance) with me. He is a good, good friend.

On that note, if you have yet to check out SYTYCD(dancedancedancedance), please do yourself a favor and park your rear in front of the tube next Wednesday and Thursday nights. You won't regret it. It is the best show on television. I'll be sure to give commentary on my favorites as the season progresses.

On the docket for the weekend: Trolley Night in the art district tonight, volunteering at the farmer's market tomorrow morning, Italian Festival Saturday Night.

And if we're all lucky, some laundry and cleaning.

New England

Jonathan and I are planning a two-week summer road trip through the Northeast. We will be starting in the D.C. area, working our way up the coast, stopping in Maine for a family reunion, and then working our way to Niagara Falls and upstate New York before heading back to Memphis. We might even try to hit Quebec and Toronto (if you're that far north, why the heck not?).

I would love any and all of your recommendations for must-see spots in the northeast, specifically along the coast. We have already decided to skip Philly and NYC and save those for later, more concentrated trips, so save those recommendations for later. Also, if you have been to southeastern Canada, particularly Quebec, Toronto, and the Niagara Falls area, tell me if you think it is worth the trip.

You are now officially my travel agent. Bring it.

Freedom

It is summer.



The campus is quiet, and with the exception of a few Greek recruitment events my evenings are no longer consumed by meetings and programs. I work regular hours, and I go home.



And now I am realizing that I am not quite sure what to do with myself! Of course, I cook dinner, I tidy up the house, I watch some tv. But for some reason I keep thinking I am supposed to be doing something more with all this new free time in the evenings. I am not used to having so much time on my hands! Maybe I need a new hobby?



What do you do after work?

Stupid

Is the internet making me stupid?



I am starting to get a bit concerned over the shift in my reading material of choice. In the past, I took great pleasure in a good thought-provoking book. Fiction or non-fiction, books were my go-to source of intellectual stimulation, relaxation, and pleasure. They still are, to a certain extent, but I am afraid that my free time is increasingly being filled by a computer screen filled with blurbs of information rather than a text filled with conjoined thoughts and themes.



My mind craves blogs. It craves People.com, marthastewart.com, foodtv.com. It craves little bits of easy-to-digest information. And I am starting to see the effects.



This morning, I picked up a new book that I am reviewing for a journal. As I began to hack through the prologue, I found myself reading and rereading sentences. Paragraphs. Pages.



"Dang...this book is hard."



In the words of Scooby Doo: "Ruh-roh"



Bad sign.



Granted, many of the things I read on the internet--particularly blogs--are thought-provoking and challenging. They leave me thinking. But I think I need to resharpen my intellectual tools a bit. Rebuild my stamina for reading material that goes beyond a few clicks or scrolls. Stop my brain from regressing to a state of comprehension limited to headlines and pictures.



What do you think? Has the proliferation of the Internet affected the way you think or receive information?

Pity Party

I am working.

On Memorial Day.

Wrong.

On SO many levels.

Consider yourself invited to my pity party.

Blue

First of all, I need a new camera. These pictures just do not do anything justice.



But enough with my coveting.



Check out what my back yard is whipping out these days!



Periwinkle, lavender, sky, lime.

Pretty, pretty colors. There is nothing better than fresh flowers in the house.

Unless those flowers come from your own back yard; it makes them that much better.

Dear Miss Hydrangea,

Please keep those blooms coming.

To Market, To Market

Saturday mornings are for one thing in my world: the Farmers Market.



Something about throwing on a sundress, grabbing my big market basket, and heading off on a cool early summer morning to drool over beautiful local food and flowers just makes me feel fully myself. I love chatting with the farmers, asking how they prepare a certain vegetable that I have never tried, where they would plant that potted herb that I have never grown, how they would cook that cut of meat. So many of my loves collide in that place: food, fresh air, community, plants and flowers, music, people watching. Happiness, for me at least, is the Farmers Market.



Take a look at the loot from last weekend:





Bok choy, Shitake Mushrooms, Broccoli, Sugar Snap Peas, White Radishes, Carrots, Turnips, Strawberries, Cilantro, Arugula, Green Onions, and a Mint Plant.





I can hear you now: "What the heck is she gonna make with all of that???"



Don't worry. I'm gonna tell you!



On Sunday, we had our friends David and Emily over for dinner after a hike at Shelby Forrest. Jonathan grilled a side of salmon with mustard herb sauce, while I made couscous with feta, mint, and parsley, and a salad of arugula, strawberries, candied pecans, purple onion, and poppy seed dressing. Add a glass of rose, breezy back patio, and coffee toffee ice cream for dessert (Thanks, David!) and you've got a lovely evening.



On Monday night, I made pasta with sausage, green onions, carmelized onions, arugula, and parmesan.



On Tuesday night, I marinated skewers of beef, shitake mushrooms, and onions in a ginger soy marinade. Jonathan threw them on the grill while I stir fried bok choy and sugar snap peas.



Tonight, we are grilling chicken satay (shout out to Aunt Susan!) with rice and stir-fried broccoli and carrots.



So we're only halfway through the week and have already used most of what we bought on Saturday morning. The radishes have been mostly for snacking, though I'm planning to pickle the rest (Don't get in a tizzy folks, they're just quick pickles. No boiling and canning going on over here!). And I need to figure out what on earth to do with those turnips...they were just so pretty at the market but now I am staring at them like they are aliens in my fridge. Turnip greens? Roasted? Steamed? Au Gratin?



Now, run along and look up the location of the farmers market near you...Saturday is coming!

Let Them Eat (a) Cake

Last night, I baked this cake.

This banana chiffon cake.

24 hours later...

I wish I could say we had company.

A dinner party.

A pot luck.

A pack of wild dogs.

But I'm afraid there is no one to blame but ourselves.

It is

JUST

THAT

GOOD.

Go make it.

NOW.

BANANA CHIFFON CAKE

from Martha Stewart Everyday Food

(I usually just link to the recipe but since this one was contributed by a reader it is not listed on their website)

Ingredients:

2 c. all-purpose flour

1 1/2 c. granulated shugar

1 T. baking powder

1 t. salt

1 ripe banana

1/2 c. vegetable oil

7 large eggs, yolks and whites separated

1 t. vanilla

1/2 t. cream of tartar

powdered sugar for dusting.

Method:

Preheat oven to 350. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt; set aside. In a medium bowl, mash banana. Add oil, eg yolks, vanilla, and 3/4 c. cold water; mix to combine. Add to flour mixture, and whisk batter until smooth.

In a large bowl, place egg whites and cream of tartar; using an electric mixer, beat until stiff peaks form. With a rubber spatula, gently fold into batter just until combined (do not overmix). Pour into an angel-food cake pan (aka, a tube pan). Bake until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, about 55 minutes. Invert the pan onto a wire rack and leave to cool completely. Reinvert pan, gently run a knife around the edge and turn out onto a cake stand or plate. Dust with powdered sugar and serve.

We ate this with pineapple coconut gelato, but it is fabulous plain (we keep eating hunks of it plain for breakfast and snacks). Fresh fruit and whipped cream would be awesome too; maybe with a bit of rum beaten into the whipped cream???

Oh, mercy.

Tuesday Tribute

Does the guy below look familiar to you?


No?


Take a look at my hubby over on the right and then look again.


Yep...that's it. It's his brother! Ladies and gentlement, meet my brother-in-law. His name will be witheld in order to reduce the amount of fan mail he will receive after this post. He's that cool.


He has a killer backhand...



And a knack for grilling a mean steak or whipping up some yummy french toast, and he'll even humor me by eating raw oysters (for the record, he was not a fan of the oyster).

He is very brave. Tubing in the icy waters off of Melbourne while a shark-search helicopter swirls overhead? No problem. He is quite the athlete, competing in triathalons and other physical feats that make me feel a bit sore just thinking about it. He can even hold his own on the golf course!
My, oh my...who is that good looking caddie? (Insert cat call whistle here)
Apparently smashing good looks run in the family. But I digress...

He can play the guitar, sing like an angel (in case you weren't aware, musical talent is a prerequisite to being a member of their family. They somehow agreed to let me in despite my gross inadequacies in this area), create abstract paintings, and refinish wood floors. He has also moved me in and out of more homes than I can count.

But beyond all of these talents, he is a great guy to have as a brother-in-law and as a friend. You know, I knew my brother-in-law before I knew my husband. We were in the same class in college, shared the same friends, led together in the same activities. In some ways I know this led to us getting on each others nerves, but it also laid a great foundation for friendship. I mean, how many of you have been through four years of working, communicating, bonding, and sometimes even conflicting with your brother-in-law before you even joined the family? Pretty rare, and so valuable.

We are pretty different people now than we were in college, and as we have grown and changed I appreciate his friendship all the more. He is wise and thoughtful, adventurous and inspiring, disciplined and focused, talented and funny. And he is a snazzy dresser. One cannot underestimate the value of a brother-in-law with style. It makes for really great Christmas and birthday gifts for yours truly. ;)

So here's to you, T. Thanks for being a great brother and an even better friend. Oh, and please let me know where I can pick up my complimentary "Sister-in-Law of the Year" ticket to Puerto Rico. I'm coming with you. ;)

Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite

I caught bed bugs at Leadershape.

I have bites EVERYWHERE.

And now they are probably in my HOUSE.

I am disgusted.

Has anyone dealt with this before???

Better Together

Gracious, it has been a long two weeks! My posts have been few and far between for a reason, so I'll fill you in on what has been going on.

On April 30, Jonathan wrapped up his first year of optometry school. On May 2nd, he left for another medical humanitarian trip, this time to Belarus. I was by myself for a week, so I thought it best to not broadcast to the cyber-world that I was home alone. Though my guard dog and alarm system are pretty handy, I didn't want to invite anyone to test out those security measures.

Over the course of the time that Jonathan was away, I learned something new about myself. You know how there are some wives out there who just turn into big babies when their husbands leave? The clingy, weepy, scardy-cat type? I have never been that girl. Of course, I miss him when he is away, and I definitely prefer for him to be around, but I'm not going to make his life miserable through my co-dependence. I suck it up and enjoy a bit of alone time, eating what he hates to eat, watching what he hates to watch, and shopping where he hates to shop (for the record, Jonathan hates to shop. Period.). No, I have never been that insecure type of girl, but apparently Jonathan's absence has a different effect on me.

It makes me stupid.

In the course of one week without Jonathan, I did all of the following:

• I locked my keys into the car and had to pay a locksmith $120 to retrieve them.
• I lost our dog. (Don't worry, I found her shortly after that).
• I lost my cell phone (NOTE: never, ever, ever put anything on top of your car to free up your hands. It is a universal law that you will drive away without grabbing it, thus sacrificing your possessions to the whim of anyone who happens to stroll past them at the park. Apparently someone likes razor phones and tennis ball launchers, because both are gone)
• I left my hot rollers on for 8 hours. Miraculously, our home still stands
• I left a hard boiled egg from my sack lunch in my work bag, only to be discovered by Jonathan a week later.

This is not a comprehensive list, people. For an entire week I walked around in a haze, scatterbrained, absentminded, discombobulated. Whatever you want to call it, it only serves to confirm the fact that I need him. Not only do I love him, like him, enjoy him, etc. I need him.

Which made it all the more painful to spend TWO weeks apart. Wouldn't you know that the leadership conference I agreed to facilitate months ago was scheduled to begin the DAY BEFORE Jonathan got home? I left on Sunday, he arrived home on Monday. Terrible, terrible timing. And I was also instructed that no visitors were allowed, nor was anyone allowed to leave the site. Boo. Hiss. Yuck.

But I am a big girl, and I followed the rules. I tried my best not to complain. And luckily, the conference was amazing: my cluster of students was solid, my fellow facilitators were fun and challenging to me professionally, and the facility was beautiful. It was almost worth two weeks away from my hubby. Not quite though.

We finally reunited on Friday. Hubby, me, Weber. Our little family together again. We hiked, we ate, we sat on the back porch and read for hours, we ate snow cones (even Weber had her own...the girl loves ice!), we talked. And we were reminded that we really are better together.

Stay tuned for Jonathan's account of his trip to Belarus!

Tuesday Tribute

This is a new, hopefully weekly, feature on my blog in which I tell you all about someone special to me, how they have influenced me, why I love them, and generally why they are awesome. Just try your best not to be jealous of how cool my friends are... (wink)

My innaugural Tuesday Tribute is devoted to one of my oldest, dearest friends, but before I tell you any more, there is one thing I must get off my chest....

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MEREDITH!

If we didn't live so ridiculously far apart I would take you out for a margarita. And some cheese dip. Because where there is Leslie and Meredith, there must be cheese.

And now, with no further ado...Meet Meredith.

Isn't she a knockout? Just gorgous, I tell you. Pretty sure I have been jealous of her legs since the day we met, but luckily she is as sweet as she is pretty so we can still be friends.


If I recall, Meredith and I first met at a basketball game between our rival junior high schools. At the time, I was having a rough time at my particular school and was reassured by my friend Julie not to worry. "Next year, when we're at SHS, you'll meet Meredith and all my other friends from CJH and it will all be better!" And sure enough I did. And it was.

Me, Julie, and Meredith. Boston, 2008.

Meredith is crazy smart. Even though we joke about her ability to perform geometry proofs without batting an eyelash, her skills definitely come in handy on a shopping trip or dinner out. Percentages off, tip and tax. You name it, and this girl will have a number for you in a heartbeat. She is a deep thinker, an engaging writer, and a talented graphic designer. At the same time, she shares my obsession with People.com and other less-than-intellectual pursuits. Our conversations can go from Brangelina to Barack without skipping a beat, and I love that about our friendship.



Meredith gives wise advice. She is a planner and a practical thinker, which is such an asset to an emotional, fickle girl like me. In fact, I accepted my current job after a phone call with Meredith. As I blubbered on about the pros and cons, Meredith listened, and then succinctly but sensitively told me that this was a great opportunity, maybe not ideal, but a job in my field that was ready for me to start the next week. A better offer was not likely. She was right, and it was just the push I needed. A friend who can give wise words in a kind way is so valuable, and I have that in Meredith. For the record, she also gives excellent input on fashion, hairstyles, baby names, marital quarrels, workplace interactions, and brands of shampoo.



Meredith is FUN. This is probably my favorite thing about her. She has a witty, smart sense of humor and has no problem letting her hair down, even if others would think she is dorky for doing it. Great memories with this girl are endless: Cruising in her GEO Tracker with "Living on a Prayer" blasting through while we sang at the top of our lungs; dancing around in her garage with tennis rackets and other sports equipment as props; spontaneosly driving to Memphis for a long weekend road trip; hanging out with locals in South Padre Island (correction: random town outside of SPI that was cheaper and thus more full of locals) til all hours of the night; waching her pole dance (completely sober!) at her bachelorette party; doing the chicken dance at her wedding. The list goes on.



Speaking of weddings, Meredith knows how to throw a party. Her wedding was the most fun I have had in ages, as evidenced below. Apparently Julie thinks I'm hilarious.





So here's to you, friend, on your 27th birthday (picture me toasting w/ a margarita and queso coated tortilla chip). That means that we have been friends for, what, twelve years? For this little Air Force brat, that is a long time, and I have a feeling that you, Julie, and I will be the three crazy old ladies doing the Chicken Dance at our daughters's weddings. You have been a faithful friend, a trusted confidant, a supportive bridesmaid, a partner in crime, a personal stylist, an enthusiastic cheerleader, and so much more. Love you, Merdi, and Happy Birthday!

(Love you too, Jules...keep an eye out for your tribute!)

Schmummy

I once went through this phase when I called my mother by the nickname "Schmummy," most often articulated in a baby voice or in a British accent. I wish I could say that I was a small child when that phase occured, but I'm pretty sure it was high school. Oh, and you are welcome to say "Schmum" for short.

Happy Mothers Day, Schmummy. I wish I could be there to make you breakfast and spend the day with you, but work is calling. Speaking of calling, I lost my cell phone yesterday so I may not even be able to do that today. Surely some Good Samaritan at this conference I'm attending will loan a poor girl a cell phone so that you are not neglected on your special day. But, of course, you will not be neglected because a box of my new favorite things is on its way to you.

And I also have to give a shout out to my other mother, Anne. I have been blessed with a wonderful mother-in-law who I genuinely like, enjoy spending time with, and respect. I've heard enough terrible mother-in-law stories to count my blessings often and I am so thankful to be a part of her family.

Thanks to both of you for being such good moms to Jonathan and me. We love you!

Ohpah!

Tonight I am going here.

Things to do/bring/wear:

• Don't eat all day in order to save room
• Wear loose fitting top to hide bulging, stuffed belly
• Bring lots of cash to supply all of my spanakopita and baklava desires
• Watch My Big Fat Greek Wedding in order to brush up on Greek dance moves

The Best Part of Waking Up

Hate to break it to you, Folgers, but the best part of waking up is actually
HEB Taste of San Antonio in your cup.

When we lived in Waco, Texas, I fell in love with HEB grocery stores. Wonderful selection of both basic and gourmet/specialty ingredients, bulk foods, fresh produce, excellent store brand. And, of course, they are the parent to my all-time favorite grocery store, Central Market.

I have been pining for HEB since I left the Lone Star State, and I'm not sure I'll ever get over it. To borrow from The Weepies, no amount of Kroger, no amount of Target, no amount of Wal-Mart, no amount of Whole Foods. No no no no no. Nothing else will do, I've gotta have you, HEB.

One HEB product--Taste of San Antonio coffee--has a particularly strong hold on me, and until this morning I have been able to satisfy my fix with provisions purchased on periodic visits to friends in Texas. When we moved to Memphis, however, what used to be a 3 hour trip turned into an 8 hour trip, and we haven't been to Texas since. Dear friends in Austin brought us 6 bags of the good stuff over Thanksgiving and it is has held us over. Until now.

I am currently trying to figure out how I can get my next fix. A package from friends? Online shopping? Calling HEB directly? Twitching, scraching, sweating and other withdrawal symptoms are sure to begin soon.

So if you're in Texas, I have a few requests for you:

1) Cherish HEB. Love HEB. Buy yourself a bag of coffee, some Central Market brand blue corn chips, and a bottle of wine (because not only does Texas have killer grocery stores, but you can also buy wine in them too. Life is so not fair) and realize the gift that you have.

2) Coffee. Send coffee.

First Year Down

It all started here...

And thus began a four-year process of transforming my husband from financial analyst to optometrist. Over the past 8 months, he has crammed his head full of anatomy, physiology, theory, neuroanatomy, ocular physiology, and a host of other courses that I cannot begin to pronounce or understand. He spent hours in class, lab, and study groups here

Cafe Eclectic

He spent evenings here

often staying up until 1 a.m. and rising at 5:30 a.m., sustained by lots of this

And a few of these

And, of course, breaks for watching this

And guess what, folks?

HE DID IT!

First year of optometry school.... CHECK!

One year down, three to go.

I am SO proud of you!

Fresh

I was sick of my busy background, so I changed it. Not quite sure what my new header and look will be, but for now I'm just going with clean, fresh, plain.

It is raining. And from the sound of friends and family across the south, you would think it is raining from here to Timbuktu. I like rain. Refreshing. Relaxing. Providing a marvelous excuse to do nothing but sit inside and enjoy the coziness of home. (Or maybe my house is tiny and that's why it feels so cozy? I'll blame it on the rain. Yeah. Yeah.)

I have nothing going on this weekend. Nothing. I cannot remember the last weekend that was not filled with work or some other obligation. It is time to clean. It is time to pack up the things of winter and bring out the things of summer. It is time to shake off the clutter that comes with a semester of living life from one meeting or event to the next. Seasons are an opportunity, a reminder to change. To renew.

My one appointment for the weekend? A date to the mall with my friend Aston. I have my eyes on the prize: white pants. Jeans? Trousers? Straight leg? Wide leg? All to be determined. But one thing is certain: white pants in the summer are fresh.

Coming soon: Ode to My Husband, Second-Year Optometry Student.