Christmas Baking

Why is it that this year I felt the overwhelming urge to pull out cookbooks and search for recipes to dazzle my family?  For the past decade or longer I've gotten away with making a single mince (no meat) pie.  Now granted the mince is homemade and sits, spiked with rum, for at least a month before I bake the pie. I still am making the mince pie; the mince is not homemade, but it is from a small local company, is all fruit and no preservatives and I will be spiking it with brandy.  BUT, the pie crust will be homemade instead of made by the Pillsbury Dough Boy although I will miss his happy little giggle. 

Then there's the Springerle.  These cookies are a favorite in my family and are hard to find.  Off and on over the years I have made them - it is about a three day process.  This year I decided to make them again, but my Springerle rolling pin was no where to be found.  I did however, find an item I had searched for back in June, so I figure I'll find the rolling pin next summer.  In the meantime, I bought a new one which is actually better than the old one.  My old recipe says to beat the eggs and sugar for a half hour - what!? When I made these in the past I was using a hand held mixer, I know I would not be standing holding that darned thing for 30 MINUTES.  That's just nuts.  So, using the new stand mixer, (Santa came early) I compromised, and the cookies are now drying on cookies sheets coated with anise seeds. 

All that's left is the gingerbread, peppermint meringues, and brandy-soaked chocolate covered cherries.  I think by the time I start on the candy I'll be using some of the brandy for "medicinal" purposes.  Will I bake a lot next year and complain about it - of course.  I wouldn't have it any other way.

Merry Christmas
Happy Hanukkah
Good Yule
And I wish everyone a safe and prosperous New Year!!!!!

Fountain of Youth?

I am a vain woman. 

Let me clarify, I'm not egregiously vain but I've always been aware of my assets and have tried to play them up.  The fact that I stare at every pore on my face when I get out my magnifying mirror is what constitutes the depth of my vanity.  And the fact that I used to buy so much make-up and products for my skin.

But no more.  I am no longer seduced by glossy magazine ads or commercials for the latest product claiming to erase fine lines, tighten pores, and make me look at least 10 years younger.  Bah!  Humbug!!  Even if the model is approximately my age she has been airbrushed or shot through pink gels to look youthful and radiant.  Now logically I always knew this, but since when does logic play a role in vanity. 

So last week I went into my bathroom and threw away almost all of the "age-defying" products on the counter and kept the one or two that I had used for years and like.  Then I went through my make-up and did the same thing.  Then fact that I hardly ever wear make-up these days helped a lot.  Of the products I kept were two that I have found that actually do what they say; Estee Lauder eyelash primer and Aveeno moisturizer with soy extracts.

And what you ask does this have to do with the Fountain of Youth?  Recently on the news I was watching a story about a rare condition called Progeria that strikes children, their bodies age rapidly and their life expectancies are only into their teens.  A doctor was explaining that they had isolated the gene functions for aging and the hope that they can find a cure for this condition.  And the side benefit would be a "fountain of youth", as it were, for the rest of the population.  In a way this sounds like science-fiction.  Each generation lives longer than previous generations thanks to medical advances, but how far do we want to go with this. 

I'm happy with how I look, yes I have some wrinkles and age spots but my skin still breaks out - thank goodness for oily skin.  I'd like to creak a little less but that can be helped by diet and exercise.  And the gray in my hair - I earned every strand!  I don't intend to fight aging 'every step of the way' like the old Oil of Olay commercials used to say. 

The best way to have a 'fountain of youth', at least for me, is to live a happy positive life.  To surround myself with music and laughter.  To remain interested in the world and to always learn.  And peace of mind is tremendously important.  To quote a line from a song from the musical "Annie", 'you're never fully dressed without a smile'.  With that I don't need no stinkin' fountain of youth!

Unanswered Prayers

In early May I went to Ohio to visit family, celebrate Mother's Day, and see my dear friend Daria.  She and I drove around the Oregon District, after a wonderful dinner at Coco's, and then we drove to St Anne's Hill where I used to live.  I drove down the street where an alcoholic a$$hole I once dated lived.  And then we drove to Oakwood where we managed to go around in a circle, coming from different directions, three times (this isn't really germane to my theme, it was just so hysterically funny at the time).

Anyway, a few weeks after I got home I reflected back on the time when I was involved with the alcoholic and all the prayers I prayed that he would change his ways (I eventually walked away from the relationship and never looked back). But then I started thinking about all the other times I have prayed for something over and over again and it hasn't come to pass.  And I realized the prayers were answered, just not in the way I was hoping for.  There is a higher power that knows what I need and won't always answer the prayer for something I want in the way I want. 

When I think about various things I've prayed for and they didn't come to pass I am overwhelmed by a sense of thankfulness that God chose to answer the prayer in his way, not mine.  My way would have eventually led to chaos and unhappiness and that is certainly not the way to live, not anymore.  And it makes me happy to know that God has my back!

Getting over myself - again

This morning I indulged in what is commonly known as a pity party.  I've been building up to it for the past few days and it finally let loose.  Bear in mind, this was all in my head, I was home alone and feeling sorry for poor, poor pitiful me.  I had started out thinking about planting pansies around our light in the front yard, a nice innocuous thought and then I started thinking about my knee and how hard it would be to kneel down to plant the flowers.  Then that thought went into other gardening I want to do as the weather gets warmer.  But then I started thinking about money or the lack thereof to do all this gardening.  And on and on it goes.  Finally I got tired of listening to myself whine, and I gave myself a swift figurative kick in the rear.  Seriously, what have I got to complain about?  I live in a lovely house with all the modern ameneties.  I have plenty of planters and seeds and dirt aren't that expensive.  I drive a nice car that gets awesome mileage.  I have more clothing, shoes, and purses than any one person would need.  I have books to read and a library very nearby.  I am relatively healthy, other than the aforementioned knee and some arthritis.  I have enough money for my basic needs.  So, why was I whining?  Then it struck me, I was whining and feeling sorry for myself because that pretentious person I had become while working in DC is starting to fade away - finally.  No more shopping sprees to Nordstrom or Tyson's Corner and all the other places I used to go.  No more driving a car I couldn't afford that had relatively lousy mileage and used high-test gas.  I had fallen into the mind-set of keeping up and surpassing the Joneses, except I had no idea who they are.  And I think on top of all of that, I had become boring.

So now here I am, not feeling sorry for myself and figuring out what I do want and need.  I need to be creative.  I have always enjoyed going to funky little antique or thrift shops and finding the one piece I was looking for that with a little cleaning or fixing would be perfect for an empty corner or shelf.  I love clothing and read fashion magazines. I used to make a lot of my clothing that followed current trends but had my own spin on them, so why not start doing that again. I like cooking and trying out new recipes.  Being creative is fun.  And I think that was behind the whole pity party in the first place. I'm not having a lot of fun, at least not the fun I need to make my life more fulfilling.  So, I'm going to get creative and do more with less and enjoy the hell out of every minute.  And, I am SOOOOO over myself!!!!!

Dear Lane Bryant

Recently I was in Las Vegas and while there I indulged in one of my favorite pastimes.  Shopping.  And in Vegas that's shopping at the Forum Shops in Caesar's Palace.  I found a lot of jewelry and shoes and purses and make-up.  I also saw a lot of clothing.  But no shops were selling clothing for women my size.  Beautiful women.  Voluptuous women.  Why?  Where are the stores for us? 

If I were getting married in Las Vegas whether it was planned or a whim I would love to know there was a store in the Forum Shops where I could find a wedding dress that was a beautiful and elegant as I am.  And if I wasn't getting married I would like to know I could go to a store in the Forum Shops and find clothing that fits my personality and style.

Believe it or not, we don't want clothing that's made from polyester.  We don't want slacks or jeans that have elastic waistbands.  We don't want ugly tops that flop all over the place with huge armholes.  What is needed is a store that sells classic, elegant, well-made clothing that is affordable.  A store that gives a nod to current trends in the fashion world but doesn't suffocate the shopper with cheap looking knock-offs of what is au courant for the 20 something crowd.   And a store that carries slacks and jeans that aren't "right fit"  Real sizes for real women.  A store where the clerks know the clothing and know fashion and offers tailoring. 

If there had been a Lane Bryant store in the Forum Shops that carried this kind of clothing, I would have had to buy another suitcase to get everything home.

So Lane Bryant, contact me, let me help you create a label and a store that caters to women like myself.  Trust me there are a lot of us out there that are waiting and hoping that someone finally gets it right.  And whoever does will reap the benefits.

Wearin' O' the Green

Happy St. Patrick's Day!!

Now I have no Irish forebears as far as I know.  My ancestry is English and Prussian or as I like to say a martinet with manners.  But one a year I get an overwhelming urge to wear my argyle green and white socks and my bracelet from Ireland that has a shamrock on it.  This year I even put on green eyeliner.  Why go to all this trouble?

'Tis said that on St. Patrick's Day everyone is Irish.  But it is actually a religious holiday, at least in its origins.  In this country it's seems that it's an excuse for frequently drinking to excess.  In my younger partying days this was one time I rarely went out to drink.  I think it was all the crowds that kept me away.  However, I do remember one time I was out with the fellow I was kind of dating (in that super cool casual way we all affect at times) and he talked the bar owner into letting me sing "Danny Boy" in the bar.  He had heard me sing it earlier and didn't know I had "that voice".  Well, I sang it accapella and nailed that high note perfectly.  That to me was and is the best St. Patrick's Day I ever celebrated. 

So be a bit Irish today.  Listen to some Celtic music.  Wear some green or orange if you wish.  And have a drink on me.  But please, no green beer.  Have a Guiness or a shot of Irish Whiskey (neat).  And:
                                                         May the road rise to meet you,
                                                         May the wind be always at your back,
                                                         May the sun shine warm upon your face,
                                                         The rains fall soft upon your fields and,
                                                         Until we meet again,
                                                         May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Judge and Judging

I'm not talking about a judge on one of the many "reality" shows that have judges or one of the many judge shows that are so ubiquitous on daytime TV.  In one of my Lenten readings by Thomas Merton he asks the question about how we judge others.  I am an extremely judgmental person.  I admit it.  Having been laid up the past couple days with the knee and a cold I had a lot of time to think about this failing.

As many of my friends can attest my judgmental comments are frequently presented humorously.  But is it humor or ridicule?  It is actually very cruel and immature behavior.  And once started becomes a way of looking at everyone and everything through the veil of judgment.  I'm not the only one who does it.  It is part and parcel of the human experience.  We see it on TV all the time.  One of my favorite shows is "What Not to Wear", and at times the hosts are very cutting in their comments.  I think there can be a better way to explain why clothing doesn't work on a person, but that probably would lower ratings.

So, this leads me to my conclusion.  I need to be mindful of what I think and say about others.  Before I get ready to blurt out a judgmental comment about someone I am going to count to 10, maybe that will help me become a kinder gentler Beth.  I can only hope that is the case.

The Lenten Season

Today is Ash Wednesday. the beginning of Lent.  I didn't go to church to get ashes on my forehead.  I haven't done that in many years.  I will however begin my Lenten readings tonight.  I read two different books, one entitled "Thorn, Fire, and Lily" and one with meditations by Thomas Merton.  I've read read them every Lenten season for the past few years.  I usually don't make it through each book, I start skipping a night or two then just quit reading them altogether.

And this bring to mind the whole idea of abstaining from or giving up something for Lent.  As a child it would be things like candy or ice cream or not picking on my siblings (that one never stuck).  As an adult it would be chocolate or alcohol or shopping.  But it never sticks.  Then I started to look at it from a different angle.  Instead of abstaining from an activity or giving something up why not try doing something that is a discipline.  So, I decided to make my discipline going to church every Sunday during Lent.  I went once.  So, obviously the discipline angle doesn't quite work for me.  

So once again it's Lent and I'm not abstaining from anything nor am I giving anything up.  And I'm trying a discipline.  In a sense it's like New Year's resolutions.  We make them and within the month most of them are broken.  I realize the difference between the two and in no way can New Year's compare with Lent.

This year I'm leaving myself open to all possibilities.  That seems the best way to go through this Lent. 

Fat Tuesday/Shrove Tuesday

I have never understood calling Shrove Tuesday Fat Tuesday. I mean I understand the etymology thanks to Wikipedia.  (What did we do before Wikipedia?)  And I've never understood Mardi Gras or Carnival.  The crazy partying before Lent begins.  I understand the eating of rich, fatty foods before the tradition of fasting during Lent begins.  The church I went to until I moved out of my home town had, and still has, a Pancake Supper on Shrove Tuesday.  I always enjoyed going to that.  Now granted I can eat pancakes anytime, but it was always special on Shrove Tuesday.  But when did the whole Fat Tuesday/Carnival/Mardi Gras come to mean partying in the streets, drinking until you're sick, acting like a fool while you're drinking, wearing very little clothing depending on the locale and wearing plastic beads.  Even in my younger partying days I had no interest in attending celebrations like that.  Halloween was enough, but that's another story for another time.  And that's all I have to say on the subject of the Tuesday before Lent begins. 

Elks and the London Bridge

I have been thinking about sending a letter to Governor Jan Brewer of Arizona about some observations I had while we drove through Arizona.  But, I don't want to burden her, she has enough on her plate what with that pesky immigration law and even peskier high crime statistics. 

We drove from California to Flagstaff.  It was a pleasant drive through a landscape that went from desert to snow covered forests.  I saw a sign for Lake Havasu and the London Bridge, anglophile that I am I took the exit and never looked back.  We came to the town and saw more signs pointing to the London Bridge, kept following the signs to London Bridge Dr., we kept driving and all of a sudden we were back on the main highway.  What?  Where's the bridge?  Saw the lake, it's beautiful.  Saw some awesome houses as well.  But never found the bridge.  Do they only display it certain days of the week?  Since we wanted to get to our hotel in Flagstaff by dinner I had to give up the search for the London Bridge.  The above photo is of the London Bridge which may or may not be at Lake Havasu.  I wonder what Muldur and Scully would make of this.....

As we got into the higher country with all the forests I started seeing signs for Elk crossing, you know, they're like the deer crossing signs - but for elks.  I got out my camera and waited.  And waited.  Okay, it's night and it's cold, all the elks are probably at their respective lodges hanging out.  The next day we went to the Grand Canyon.  If you've never been - GO.  I'm not even going to try to describe the magnificence I saw.  All through the drive around the South Rim kept seeing more Elk crossing signs.  Even after we left the Grand Canyon and were headed east to Albuquerque there were still some signs.  Never. Saw. One. Elk.  Why would they put up those signs?  Do the Elks only come out on certain days?  Actually, I did see the head of an Elk on a beam at the El Tovar Hotel at the Grand Canyon where we stopped for lunch.  Could that be the elk the signs were referring to.  Here again I have to wonder what Muldur and Scully would make of the missing elks....

HGTV and my Knee

Here I sit, laptop on top of my lap with HGTV on and my stupid knee propped on pillows.  But it doesn't matter.  I made the commitment to start writing again and I'm doing it!!!!  This excites me tremendously.  I want to talk about things I see (and don't see) in my world.  Hopefully I'll be amusing, thought provoking, relatively literate, and never use bad grammar.

So first, my knee.  While we were in California a week ago I chose to step off a curb and hyper-extend my knee.  This was something I would have preferred not to bring back from vacation.  Couldn't do any of the things we had planned to do, but it gave me a day of rest and gave Dennis a day to visit with his uncle.  I think just being in California and breathing the SoCal air was enough.  Since it was the week of the Oscars I was breathing the same air as my true love, Colin Firth.  I know he felt me.  I could tell by how he acted when he won the Oscar for his role in The King's Speech.  Poor man just hadn't recovered from breathing the same air.  (My blog, my fantasy)

As to HGTV, what else is there to watch on a rainy Saturday night.