I've been enjoying the two Christmas carol stations a little more than usual this year. In fact, I've been downright annoying and seem to be constantly singing under my breath. I can't control it. Anyway, it made me super duper happy to hear Blue Girl and Neddie Jingo's Christmas song today. This year Blue is singing "Santa Baby" and Neddie is playing a ukulele. It's awesome. Go listen.
Okay, so I can't keep up with the daily blog reflections on 2009, so I'm going to start skipping and do the ones I really like.
December 8 Moment of peace.
In September I went to Chicago to meet my dear friends' new baby, Ben, who also happens to be my god son. Being asked to be his god mother was such an honor. I've always wanted to have that role in someone's life, and I love his parents so much, that thinking about it still makes me a bit teary. A moment of peace for me was meeting him for the first time. He was a tiny newborn and it felt like nothing to hold him in my arms. I felt the muscle memory from my years of babysitting kick in and the warmth of new love, even with his occasional squawking.
I haven't seen Mr. Ben since he was a couple of weeks old, and I hate that I am not closer to help out. I did just see recent photos and you can already see his personality shining through. I cannot wait to see him again. I cannot wait for our adventures together in the future.
2001: It was the annual Halloween dance at Collins. My friend and I went as characters from Twin Peaks. I was the log lady and Libby (in the pink) was Nadine from Twin Peaks (she had lost her eye patch by that point). I carried that log all night - it was heavy, but it was worth it.
1993: I think this was at the old Central High School, which is now COSI.
1990: I'm pretty sure this was at the old Columbus Ohio State Penitentiary, which has now been razed and is the location of the Arena District downtown. It was the scariest haunted house ever. Of course I was nine, but it was in a crumbling old state pen.
I wake up to NPR in the mornings. On the weekends, if I hear something interesting, I'll let it play instead of hitting snooze and slowly wake up, listening to a story unfold. Saturday I did this with an interview with Diane Rehm. (My favorite part was her story about how Julia Child responded to her question about how Child keeps up her energy. Child quipped she ate well, "red meat and gin.")
I left the radio playing and bolted awake with the next story, Hiding In Spotlight. Not only was the story a good one, but the interview was with my good friend Aimee's Dad and Grandmother, Greg and Zhanna Dawson.
Aimee's Grandmother and her great aunt escaped Nazi death marches in the Ukraine in 1941. Both were gifted musicians; Zhanna was a piano prodigy. They changed their names and were presumed dead. (In fact their names are included on walls of the dead in Israel and Ukraine.) They survived much of the war by playing music, and often for German soldiers. Scott Simon, who was interviewing them, asked her if playing for the Nazis scared her. Her response was interesting. She said she was more afraid of people she knew recognizing her than she was the soldiers.
Eventually they were able to get to America. Zhanna went to Julliard and ended up teaching at Indiana University. (Which is where I met Aimee.)
Aimee's Dad, Greg, is a columnist with the Orlando Sentinel. He recently published a book about Zhanna's escape and life during the war. The NPR piece has reminded me that I have the time now to read it and should do so. Listen to the interview (and read an excerpt) here. More information about the book here. Buy it here.
A dear friend, who always wishes to remain anonymous online, got married last week. She and her husband eloped to Vegas and got married with Elvis. (The video of the ceremony alternates between tears and hilarity - which is exactly what I hoped for.) We celebrated their nuptials on Saturday at another friend's house. I was dubbed "Photographer," which was slightly nerve-wracking, but I got a lot of nice shots.
I enjoy being able to celebrate my friends' marriages with them. Each wedding I've attended has been unique to the couple, which is the way it should be. I took a couple of polaroids, and here is the one without people.
(Editor's note: my laptop recently died, and the data on it is irretrievable. As a public service announcement: please back up your data IMMEDIATELY. Thank you.)
The last ten days or so have been a veritable "This is Your Life" for me. It started with a visit to some dear friends from college who just adopted an adorable baby girl. The visit was short, but easy and fun. (They live in Cincinnati and I'm excited to see them next.) It's so good to reconnect with friends and have it feel like you're continuing a conversation from the day before. Little did I realize that this would set the tone for the next week or so. Thanks Gail, Sam and baby Nevy for being awesome.
Besides a parade, fireworks, and one street fair, this weekend was full of lots of old faces. I had my 10 year high school reunion, which was much more fun than the movies would make it seem. Then again, I have always been fairly good at working a crowd. My twin brother, who's even better at mingling, came too. I loved the randomness of the people who showed - it was a great cross section of social circles and it seemed like everyone chatted and swirled around the giant bar in the tiny venue.
I ran into so many people I've known since we moved to Ohio in elementary school. There was one guy I was talking to and in my head I kept picturing his fourth grade photo. It felt grounding to see these people from my past. I also reconnected with a good friend from middle and high school, who I had lost touch with. We had dinner the other day and it was again like we picked up like no time has passed. It makes my heart feel very full.
My final face from my past was of one of my favorite musicians, Josh Ritter. (You're shocked, I can tell. You've never heard me mention him before, right?) My lovely friends Tina and Julie roadtripped with me up to the Beachland Ballroom in Cleveland on a Tuesday night for an excellent night. We all went to work the next day too.
The show was rocking and joyous, which is par for the course with Josh. Highlights: the poem read by T.S. McMillan to music and the three little girls who helped the band close the night with "Empty Hearts." (I love that song and those girls have the coolest parents ever.) Tina and I got hugs and a polaroid too. Not a bad night.
I've had some good times lately. I hope your summers are fun-filled as well.
My number one goal on my spring break, besides reading for fun, relaxing, etc., was to eat some pie. I mean, I was going to the South, right? And pie is a part of Southern food equation.
I scoured our guidebooks and decided that we had to go to Poogan's Porch and eat some of their peanut butter pie. My travel companions were up to the task. Poogan's was named after a neighborhood dog, which we all thought was a good omen. We sat in the back light-filled room, with cheery green walls and stuffed ourselves silly. Some how we made room for our pie.
My guest judge was my hostess for the week, my friend Cindy. She had a lot to share with you, dear readers, about her particular qualifications for this task. She doesn't like pumpkin pie or fruit pie, but prefers pecan pies. She is also an avid peanut butter lover, in fact she said she is interested in incorporating peanut butter in desserts. Sounds perfect, right? Plus, she's a Pi Phi.
Cindy said, "It is not as rich as I imagined, which I enjoy." She thought that the nutty topping would be better, but I liked it. She liked how it was cold. (I left out the bit about her love for all thing ice cream, too.) Krista, another of our friends, found the texture like ice cream.
The crust was very thin, so we did not know how to judge it. It had, in my opinion, amazing tasting cream piped at the edge of the pie. It was great with coffee. Cindy gave it a 4 out of 5. I gave it closer to a five.
If you go to Charleston, go to Poogan's. Trust me.
(Photos courtesy of Dana (top) and Krista (pie). We ate at Poogan's the day I lost my digi.)
Yesterday was 3/14, or Pi Day. In fact, it is now recognized as such by Congress, who recently passed a resolution to formally designate March 14 as Pi Day. Which I think is great, as does Rep. Brian Baird (D-Wash.), who is “kind of geeked up about it.” It's also Einstein's birthday, as well as about 8 people I know. (Happy belated my dears!)
One such friend, who holds this auspicious day as her own, is my friend Cristina. I helped her celebrate by bringing her an apple pie and asked if she would be willing to guest judge a PFR again. How could she refuse? Here are the details:
Pie:
Apple with crumble top baked to order from the Bread Basket in Gahanna, pictured above. (Disclosure, I am absolutely nutty about their berry scones.)
Guest judges:
Cristina, last seen judging in PFR #7 last May. Still considers herself a pie novice.
Miss X, who wished to remain anonymous, not much of a pie eater, more of a pie maker.
Me, who was dubbed a "pie-storian" last night, a name I quite enjoy.
I realized just now that I forgot to ask for overall rankings from our judges! I'm forgetting protocol, which is not good. But here are the judges conclusions.
Filling:
I was assured when I ordered the pie Friday that they use only fresh granny smith apples for their pies, which was evident by the lovely tartness of the fruit. The bakers left the skins of the apple on, which I found weird. Cristina "appreciated the weirdness of the apple skin." Miss X found it distracting.
I loved the tartness of the apples and the overabundance of cinnamon (a weakness of mine). Cristina liked that the filling was not too sweet and found it reminiscent of her homemade applesauce.
Crust and top:
Miss X liked the topping and said, "The crumbly jazz is tasty." I also enjoyed the topping. Everyone especially enjoyed the overly browned bits.
I almost forgot to ask about the crust, which was not a great sign. It wasn't a bad crust, it just wasn't memorable. Cristina said, "I didn't even think about the crust, but I think it works with this pie. It's more fresh-fruity than lardy, so I don't mind it. It goes well with the crumble top."
In the end the birthday girl declared, "I would like it for breakfast." Which sounds like an endorsement.
This post is dedicated to my dear friend Alex, who lives on the other side of the world. A couple of summers ago she convinced me to buy these wellies. I don't wear them often, but they always elicit nice comments. I hope you all have a lovely weekend! It's supposed to be cold again. Boo.
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