Temporary Custody

I've been thinking lately about all the "stuff" I have.  What are my plans for things like the half-dozen or so vases I have?  I only use one about once a year.  The vases aren't even beautiful pieces of art, they're just cheap, colored glass.  Or the jewelry cluttering up my dresser?  Again, nothing expensive or beautiful; mostly stuff I haven't bothered to wear in over a decade.  What about the ginormous George Foreman Grill that's been sitting on top of my refrigerator for the last six years; I've never used it even once!

When I think about the collections of people like Michael Jackson or Elizabeth Taylor, I realize the silliness of having so much stuff around.  They had houses full of stuff worth millions of dollars that just stayed behind collecting dust or starting fights among relatives after they left this place.  Nobody's going to even bother fighting over my stuff, it will just be a nuisance for someone to go through and get rid of.

I recently became involved in a project to help clean out the house of a woman who has been buying and saving stuff for many, many years.  Going through her house, I couldn't help but wonder at the purpose of owning all this useless stuff!  She had so much stuff, she didn't even know what she had!  She bought the same stuff over and over again as it became buried under piles of other stuff and she either couldn't find it or forgot she had it.  Most of the stuff, it was obvious, she never even used!

Stuff in bedroom

Stuff in living room

I recently watched a short video about a family who decided to downsize.  They sold their house of over 2,000 square feet and moved into a small, 350 square foot house.  During the moving process, they had to purge and get rid of everything they owned that wasn't absolutely necessary.  This family of three is now happily living in a 350 sq ft unit on a bit of land that allows them to grow their own vegetables.  They aren't bogged down by having to house and take care of things they have no use for.  I admire them!  I want to be like them!

While both of these cases represent extremes at opposite ends of the spectrum, I'm sure there must be a comfortable spot for me somewhere in between.  I do feel very fortunate to be the temporary custodian of some wonderful things, like the banjo and recorder I recently acquired.  These are instruments that once belonged to a friend I dearly loved; a professor I highly admired.  It means something to me to be the caretaker of instruments that were once in his custody. Not only that, but they give me pleasure in other ways as well.  I've always dreamed of learning to play the banjo and now, I'm just one step closer to achieving that goal.  The recorder I already know how to play, but not well.  I've been enjoying relearning how to make music with this charming instrument!

I have temporary custody of other things that I enjoy as well, such as my cookbook collection, my videos and photos of my family, my books and sheet music, to name a few.  But the other stuff, the stuff I don't need and haven't used for years and years..... I need to get rid of it!  It's dragging me down!  Today, I am going to make a list of areas in my house that need to be purged and then I'm going to begin working my way methodically through the list, getting rid of everything that isn't necessary for living a healthy, happy, life.  When my sojourn here is finished, I don't want it to take my children more than a couple of days to find new custodians for the things I leave behind.

Carpe Diem: A Lesson Learned

A few days ago, one of my FB friends posted a question: "Are you the type to eat a delicious meal slowly, savoring every bite, or do you gobble it up quickly?" My answer was (or rather, the explanation for my answer) way too long to post on FB so I thought I'd post my answer here.

Homemade brand ice cream used to make a flavor called Dark Raspberry Chip. The first time I tasted this ice cream, I stood frozen in wonder and amazement. After a few seconds had passed and I was able to breathe again, I sat down to recover my senses. This ice cream was more delicious than anything I'd ever put in my mouth with the intention of sending it down to my stomach! I entered into a love affair with this ice cream in which it became my reward for every good deed, my consolation prize for every bad day.

It came to pass, after a year or so, that I had trouble finding this flavor. I went from store to store with no luck. I found out, from questioning the person in charge of ordering at Scott's, that Homemade had discontinued this flavor. It was like learning of the death of a dear, dear friend! I took to my bed for several days.... (o.k. that's a slight exaggeration. but I FELT like it!)

Imagine my joy when, a few days later, I found some Dark Raspberry Chip ice cream at Meijer's!! They had two half gallons left. I put them in my cart and pushed myself over to the frozen foods service area where I asked if they had any more in the back. They did! I told them I'd take everything they had. They brought out four plastic wrapped packages containing five half-gallons each. I abandoned the rest of my grocery shopping for the day so I could rush home and put my twenty-two half gallons of ice cream in the freezer.

At that time, we were living in a studio apartment above my parents' garage. We had a stand-up freezer in the garage. I emptied it out to make room for my ice cream and lovingly placed them all inside. Within minutes, my torment began.

I now had twenty-two half gallons of ice cream, which seemed like a lot. But I knew that once it was gone, it would be gone forever! I had to be careful how I allowed myself to enjoy it. I didn't want to gobble it all down and be left with nothing! Over the next few weeks, I thought longingly about that ice cream almost constantly, never allowing myself to have so much as a bowl.

Finally, one day, after over a month of denial, I decided I would allow myself a bowl. I made this decision in the early morning and determined I would have a bowl of ice cream at the end of the day, after I had bathed and put on my pajamas. I spent the whole day in a state of woozy ecstasy as I anticipated the pleasure of the evening.

The day crawled by, dinner was served and then cleaned up, the kids were put to bed, my bath was taken, my pajamas were on, and I went down to the garage to retrieve my ice cream. With my hand on the freezer door, I noticed a puddle of water pooling out from under the freezer. When I opened the door, a purple river littered with chips of black dripped onto my feet. I threw back my head and howled like a wounded animal.

My dad and husband came running to see what was the matter. They found me there in a red rage, almost delirious with grief. What had happened??? My poor dad looked mortified as it dawned on him that he had forgotten to plug the freezer back in after using the outlet a couple of days earlier for a power tool. He apologized profusely. I tried to forgive him. It was hard....

That night I lay in bed and reflected over the last month. All of those times I had denied myself the pleasure of a bowl of ice cream. I should have had them all! I had delayed joy and now I had nothing. NOTHING! And I realized that life presents us with opportunities that we must seize and take advantage of immediately without feeling guilty. Do not delay! Seize the day!

I daily remind myself of this as I live the rest of my life. I'm still the type that likes to save dessert for last or read a good book slowly, but I no longer postpone joy indefinitely.

And, this story has a happy ending because Homemade is making Dark Raspberry Chip ice cream again. I should have known that there would be a public outcry the likes of which had probably never been seen before. It took a couple of years, but it's back on the market!!

So much to read, so little time!

It has been rainy and dreary here for several days.  Last night,  I slept with the bedroom window open so I could enjoy the shimmering chill in the air as a fierce storm sucked up all the sound for miles around.  A bright flash of light would illuminate the room and then, almost 20 seconds later a clap of thunder would sound in the distance.  It was delicious!

This morning I woke up thinking about books.  So many books to read!  I went around the house and gathered up all the books waiting to be read.  I love having such a wealthy supply of riches waiting for me!  I stacked them all up on the coffee table and took a picture.  Here they are:

That big book on the bottom of the stack is three pounds of words.  Literally!  I weighed it on my little kitchen scale.  Several years ago, I read Follett's Pillars of the Earth.   What an amazing literary work!  It transported me back to the middle ages, where I lived and breathed for days on end as I watched the lives unfold of folks involved with the building of a great cathedral.  I was loathe to turn the last page, knowing I would feel lonely and sad for weeks upon having to leave their world.  Oh!  How I'm looking forward to being transported again to another time and place with his book, Fall of Giants.  I'm saving it for last!  

In the meantime, I've started reading A Beautiful Blue Death; a British mystery set in the 19th century.  It's a fun and exciting read so far!

While I've been sitting here at the dining room table typing, a robin has perched on a branch right outside my window.  He is watching me type and seems to be very interested in my blog!  He was kind enough to let me snap his picture.

I would love to continue writing, but I simply feel I must brew a cuppa and get back to my book while the weather is still cold and dreary! 

Celebrating the Buddhist New Year

Thursday, I stopped by Mahnin's to visit my friend, Pimpa. While I was there, I found out two things: one, that Saturday (today) is Pimpa's birthday and two, that Saturday (today) is the day many Buddhist countries celebrate the New Year. I was invited by Mahnin to return on Saturday and have some traditional Burmese food eaten only on New Year's Day. My attendance was pretty much guaranteed when she looked at me and said, "You come. You no pay."

I am very adventurous when it comes to traveling and eating. There is almost nowhere I wouldn't like to visit and almost nothing I wouldn't like to try tasting. It sometimes happens (like it did after I tried the traditional offal (pronounced AWFUL by me) soup served on Easter morning in Greece) that I say to myself, "Well.... I'm very glad for the experience I just had. Now, I shall never have to do it again!"

Here is what was served to me this afternoon...

If that looks like a bowl of white rice swimming in water, that's because that's EXACTLY what it is!  And the rice and water are cold!  Let me repeat and clarify: This is a bowl of plain boiled white rice served in a bowl with cold water poured over it.  And to go along with this "festive" dish, I was served a small dish of yellow split peas and some sort of stew made from onions and dried fish (like salt cod,maybe?)

I'm proud to be able to add to my list of experiences eating traditional Burmese food on the Buddhist New Year, and I'm glad I will never have to do it again!

In spite of the fact that it is her birthday, Pimpa looked very sad today.  I hope she knows that she is loved and I hope her day gets better.  Happy Birthday Pimpa!

Pimpa with a customer/friend

From 3:00 a.m. to 5:00 a.m.

It's been almost three weeks since my new sleeping schedule has kicked in. For some reason, I wake up around 3:00 every morning and remain awake until 5:00 or so. I don't know what to do with myself during this time. Sometimes, I get up and wander around; sometimes I get online and surf the web or check my email and the stats on my internet sites; sometimes I search for something to watch on t.v; sometimes I'll read. I've even tried using this awake time to pray, but find my mind wanders just as much during these wakeful hours as it does at other times of the day. It's very hard for me to focus. I think my brain is turning to mush. I'm looking for suggestions on what I can do with these middle-of-the-night wakeful hours.

The book I'm currently reading (Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis) is taking me on an exciting journey and giving rise to many intriguing questions. While I wait for your suggestions on how to spend my sleepless hours, let me share a couple of things I've been pondering during the past few nights:

1.) If God exists, and if He's all powerful, why doesn't He erase the past? I'm unhappy with the idea of anyone having to spend any time at all (let alone all of eternity) suffering in a place like hell. I would think this bothers a loving God even more! Obviously, things didn't work out so great this time around. Why not turn back the hands of time and start all over with a new and better plan? (Albeit, this pondering identifies "God" as the conflicted, loving/vengeful "God" profiled in Christianity.)

2.) If someone is completely delusional, mad as a hatter, but totally happy, wouldn't it be o.k. to just leave them alone and let them live in their delusional world? For example, if someone is dressed in tatters and living in a junkyard, drinking dirty water and eating grass and berries; but believes she is dressed in fine clothes, living in a palace, drinking the best wines and eating exotic delicacies; isn't that alright? As long as she's happy and poses no threat to anyone else, why not let her live and be happy? A random question, I know. But I've been wondering about society's definition of mental health and our fear of anyone who sees things a bit differently or seems a bit strange.

Another thing I've been doing during the night is spending time on the "Playing for Change" website. This is a great site that is working to connect the world through music. Check out this inspirational video of Bob Marley's Redemption Song.




At a lunch I attended yesterday, we spent some time discussing the fact that every known society, past and present that has lived on the earth, has developed two things: music and religion. It seems we humans are intrinsically wired for both. This leads me to believe that both music and the Creator somehow exist at the very core of the universe and we, as humans, have a longing to connect to both.

A day in Detroit

Yesterday, I spent the day in Detroit with Pimpa.  She called me the night before and asked me if I would drive with her to her doctor's appointment.  Her husband, who normally makes the monthly trip with her, was sick and she didn't want to make the trip alone.

Pimpa looked tired and stressed and in fact, this turned out to be the case because once she finally got in to see her doctor, she was told her blood pressure was dangerously high and there was talk about sending her to the hospital.  But a couple of hours later, after medicating her and writing her several prescriptions, she was allowed to leave.

Pimpa, looking tired and stressed

Once we left the doctor's office, we started on our "big" adventure.  The first stop was to a pawn shop where Pimpa had some jewelery she needed to get out of hock.  It had been sitting there for over a year and after working 14 hour days for days on end, she'd finally saved up enough to reclaim her items.

leaving the pawn shop

From there, we went to lunch at a little Vietnamese restaurant.  By now, it was 3:00 and about four hours past my lunch time!  I had become very narrow in my focus over the last couple of hours, not caring about Pimpa's jewelery or anything else in my desire to satisfy my growling stomach.  I can't remember a time I've ever been happier to arrive at a restaurant!

Add caption

This is the third time I've eaten in a restaurant with Pimpa.  She has a habit of ordering way more food than she intends to eat!  As she was ordering item after item on the menu, I found myself thinking, "Yes, I can eat that!"

making selections off the menu

But, once the food began arriving, I realized there was going to be trouble.  Big trouble!

I have this theory that the hungrier you are, the less you can eat.  I had barely begun eating when my stomach felt like it was about to burst!  By the time we were done eating, there was still enough food left on the table to feed a family of four!

what we couldn't eat

After leaving the restaurant, Pimpa took me to a Chinese BBQ where she ordered BBQ ducks to take back home.

Pimpa at the counter, placing her order

This was an interesting place and, to be quite honest, the ducks were probably the ONLY thing I would have eaten from this shop.  Everything else looked a bit, well............ scary!!

tripe

ummm.... not sure

a whole bunch of stuff I'm not sure about

The lady who cut up our duck was amazingly quick and accurate with her cleaver!!

From the Chinese BBQ shop, we went to the farmer's market to buy fruits and vegetables.  This was a cool place with aisle after aisle of fresh-looking, low-priced produce.

We also went to a couple of Asian markets where I was able to buy an entire case of Shin Ramyun spicy noodle soup.  This should make Lucas very happy!

By the time we pulled into my driveway, it was going on 11:30 ( a good three and a half hours past my normal bedtime.)  As I got out of the truck, Pimpa thanked me for going along with her and said, "Next month, we go spend night in hotel."

Next month??  Really?????

Another week goes by........

Well, it's been a rather brutal week for me.  (I'm going with the 4th line definition in the online dictionary for brutal, which is "taxing, demanding, or exhausting.")

 My trip out to Pierre Payen to visit Clean Water for Haiti went well.  Chris (the director) was not there, but it was a pleasure to meet his wife and daughter.  His wife, Lesley, was very knowledgeable about all things related to bio-sand water filters and explained the project and the filters in a way that was understandable to me.  I was very impressed with the work site and am excited about the possibility of bringing this project to Jeremie.

a mold used to make the bio-sand filters



a bio-sand filter can filter a 5-gallon bucket of water in 45 minutes

Although I was willing to take the risk of driving out to Pierre Payen without a spare tire, I was not going to take the same chance driving all the way to Les Cayes.  So, after returning to the city Tuesday evening, my friend Alix (who was loaning me his car) and I went to the tire shop and got a new tire put on the spare rim.

that's Alix in the orange shirt



putting the tire on the rim

 The trip out to Cayes was mercifully uneventful.  The main reason for making this trip was to meet a young girl who is looking for a family to adopt her.  I thought she lived right in Cayes, but turns out, she lives in the countryside in a small town called Maniche.  We drove out into the countryside over a very rough and bumpy road, asking pedestrians of all shapes and sizes if this was the road into Maniche.  Each one affirmed this, pointing vaguely in the direction ahead of us saying, "You've almost arrived."  We finally arrived at a sad looking, colorless little town.  I say colorless because it seemed to be made completely out of cement and stone; no grass to be seen anywhere, houses crumbling along both sides of the streets, a dusty film settled on everything in sight.



the road to Maniche



town of Maniche

town of Maniche

We pulled up in front of one of the crumbling houses and were greeted by Sandrine, her brother Bob, and their mother.  They were excited to have visitors and ushered us into the house, where I took pictures and asked Sandrine a few questions about her life and her interests.

main room of house where they sleep, eat, and generally just hang out



front room shot from a different angle

 
We stayed about 15 minutes, then climbed up into the vehicle to head back to Cayes.  But before leaving, I decided I'd better use the restroom.  I asked where I might be able to do this.  Sandrine took me to a small, dark, empty room off the main room of the house, pointed to a corner and suggested I squat and pee onto the dirt floor.  I couldn't bring myself to pee in their house this way so went out back instead and tried to hide behind a banana tree where I pulled down my jeans and worked as quickly as possible.

We spent two nights in Les Cayes and stayed with some friends of mine while there.  It was good to reconnect with Touloute and his wife as I hadn't seen them for almost four years.  Their son, Luvio, has turned into a carbon-copy of his father, something he seems to not be very happy about!

When it became known that we were in Cayes to meet with and take pictures of a young girl who needs a family, a mother brought her six-year-old daughter to me.  She explained that the little girl's father had died in the earthquake and she now was unable to raise and care for her child alone as she had no economic resources.  She dreams of a better life for her daughter and asked me if I could also try and find a family to adopt her.  What else could I do but take her picture and information and tell her I'd do my best.

Since returning to Port-au-Prince, I've pretty much been holed up in my room, watching the days crawl by while I wait to go home. 

Which I will be doing this afternoon!

P.S.  I almost made it through this entire trip without any stomach distress.  Until yesterday, when I ate a bowl of boullion made with goat's head that seems to be doing quite a number on me.  My stomach has been gurggling and bubbling all night long! 




Broken things, Sweet things, and Promising things (my first five days in Haiti)

I've been stuck in a hotel in Petionville for five days.  Things have not been working out for me at all on this trip.  No surprises there!

They began to go wrong on day 1 when the vehicle I had made arrangements to use broke down on its way up the mountain to Fermath.  It was about 11:00 at night and we had to leave it sitting by the side of the road while we hitched a ride with a young man who told me the only reason he stopped was because our license plate said "919".  He has had a series of bizarre and life-directing experiences related to this number so he always takes notice when it pops up.  Thank you Claude Martin!

Anyway..... up the mountain we went.  We spent the night in a beautiful, and extremely elaborate, home.  This house belongs to the sister and brother-in-law of Guerdine, the lawyer I am using for the Rickerd's adoption.  They were kind enough to offer it to us at no charge.  I'd had a long and dirty day so I was relieved to finally be able to drop my bones into bed.

Imagine my unhappiness when a loud thumping on the door woke me up at 5:15 a.m.  (translation: middle of the night since it was still darker than tar outside and I had only been asleep a mere handful of hours.)  Our hosts were getting ready to head downtown to work and since they lived in such a remote area, our only option for getting back to our car that day was to leave with them. 

After filling the radiator with an entire BUCKET of water and dinking around with the car for over an hour, we were finally able, by jerks and stops, to work our way down the mountain into town.  Where the car finally gave up the ghost and stopped for the final time.  (Again, we were left stranded, trying to work out how to get to our destination.) 

Enough about the car already.   You don't need a play by play.  (BTW - please don't think us negligent about the bucket of water thing.... we had put water in the radiator earlier that day)  In a nutshell, the cylinder head was cracked and the car had to be towed.  My well-laid plans for a vehicle and place to stay had been foiled.  Without a vehicle, it was not going to be possilbe to continue staying at the house in the mountains.  I ended up having to rent a hotel room in town (an expense I simply did not come prepared to pay for.)

I was hoping to avoid paying for several days in a hotel by heading out to Jeremie, where I would be able to at least find a free bed.  But the planes are completely full and I haven't been able to find a seat for any of the days I have available for travel.

So..... I have been stuck here at the Paradis Hotel (yeah, right!) since Thursday, making only one excursion.  Yesterday, I was able to meet Lucienne, a delightfully sweet young lady who is hoping to find a family to love her.  She is one of seven children whose mother died shortly after giving birth to her youngest sister approximately two and a half years ago.  Her father has abandoned the children to various relatives and aquaintances.  Lucienne is currently living with her aunt (sister of her mother) who is already struggling to feed her own family. 

Lucienne Isidor

Eddy's sisters have started a school in their neighborhood and since the earthquake, it has been meeting in a tent.  Carline and Martine have big hearts for the children of Haiti and even though their own living situation is difficult, they make daily sacrifices to school and feed children who otherwise would not be able to go to school.  They've accepted Lucienne into their program and it was through them that I first heard her story.  When I arrive home, I will begin looking for a family for her.  If you or someone you know is interested in making this sweet young girl a part of your family, contact me!!

tent school



Lucienne's classroom

Just moments ago, I was able to secure a vehicle for the day (only problem, it doesn't have a spare tire.  Which, actually, is quite a serious consideration!)  I'm headed out to the countryside to visit Clean Water for Haiti.  This is a wonderful program that supplies sand-water filters to the people of Haiti.   Haiti's water problem was already quite serious, but the cholera outbreak has added a new sense of urgency to the situation.  I'm hoping Mustard Seed might be able to get involved by bringing a sand-water filter project to the Jeremie area.  Keep your fingers crossed that we don't get a flat on our way going to or coming from the countryside!!!

(Time is short, otherwise I'd tell you about my near-death experience traveling down the mountainside in a monsoon, with zero visibility and cars being carried away by a raging torrent of water left and right!)

Growing Old(er)

I didn't think I'd mind growing older, and for a while, I didn't.  I was prepared for the crow's feet around the eyes, the little laugh lines around the mouth, the age-spots on the hands, the grey in the hair.....  As these things began to gently change my appearance, I embraced them.  I felt they gave me a touch of dignity, an air of maturity that encouraged respect and maybe even admiration for a life well lived.

What I had not considered, and what horrifies me, are some of the other signs of aging: the hairs that suddenly one day decide to grow on one's chin, neck, and even cheeks; the flabby, loose skin under the upper arms; the tiny skin flaps that can appear in various places; the sagging, drooping skin around one's neck; the moles; the embarrassing noises one's stomach starts to make as it digests even the simplest of foods.......  Of course, I knew that lots of old women had these things; but I just assumed they'd been born that way.  I didn't quite realize that one could become hideous over time.  Oh!  the injustice!

And these are just the things that I can mention without totally embarrassing the reader.  There are more.  Many, many more!  (I haven't even touched on the aches and pains and loss of physical ability!)  If you are older, you know what I'm talking about.  And if you are younger, then I don't want to scare you lest you stop enjoying the pleasures of youth in anticipation of the horrors of old-age.

As we age, however, nature gifts us with some tools to help deal with these changes.  For example, our close-up eyesight dims, making it difficult to see the extent of the hideous damage to our faces; our memory comes and goes so that often times we don't even remember if we ought to be embarrassed; and we seem to care less and less about our physical appearance than we did when we were younger.  These things are all blessings!

And we do become wiser.  Which is a mixed blessing.  Because now we are able to analyze with clarity the stupid and impetuous behavior of our youth; the decisions born of ignorance and emotion.  If only old-age came with a giant eraser, there are so many things I would erase out of my past.  Thank god I am wiser now and will no longer be engaging in such embarrassing behavior. 

I am only at the beginning of this final journey.  With any luck, it will be a long journey and by the time I reach my destination, I hope to arrive with the aged wisdom of a buddha, even if I must end up looking like a withered turnip.

The Kanom Krok pan

So, after spending the evening with Pimpa the other night, I felt convinced that I needed to try kanom krok.  The first step was to obtain a kanom krok pan.  I got on the Internet and did a search for kanom krok pans and found one for $17 plus $5 shipping and handling.  They also had lime paste (an ingredient in kanom krok), so I ordered a small container of that for $2 as well.  Three short days later, my kanom krok pan arrived!

I was so excited!  I tore open the box and pulled out my pan, lid, and lime paste. 

The day was Saturday and I knew Pimpa would be working at Mahnin's, so I grabbed up the pan and headed down to the restaurant to share my excitement.  When I arrived, the restaurant was empty, except for Mahnin, Pimpa, and the cook.  I showed Pimpa my amazing treasure and there was a brief exchange of excited Thai as they admired my kanom krok pan.  I sat and smiled, thinking they were expressing awe and amazement at my cleverness and resourcefulness in obtaining this authentic cooking vessel.

Pimpa turned to me and asked, "How much you buy this pan?" 

"Seventeen dollars," I told her.

At this, there were shocked gasps all around.  Well, of course there would be!  I had accomplished an amazing thing!  But the gasps were immediately followed by giggles and laughter.

"She sell for $11 next door,"  Pimpa told me, pointing at the Asian market across the street.  "And how much you buy this lime paste?"

"Two dollars,"  I said, almost under my breath....

"She sell next door for seventy-nine cents!"

More giggles and laughter.  How was I supposed to know this? A farang in my own country!! Thank goodness I hadn't told them about the $5 shipping and handling fee. I'd look like a total sucker.

O.K. well... the important thing is, we  now have a kanom krok pan.  What are we going to do with it?  The ladies grabbed up my pan and headed off to the kitchen.  Since there were no customers in the restaurant, they were able to whip up a batch of kanom krok in no time. 

The first batch was made with basically nothing more than rice flour and coconut milk and turned out gummy and tasteless.  It went in the trash.  The next batch turned out a bit better, but there was quite a lot of arguing about whether or not to put sugar in the batter.  The Burmese cook did not want sugar as they are made without sugar in Burma, but Pimpa wanted sugar as they are made with sugar in Thailand.  I left them to argue it out and went to sit down at a table and wait.

Pimpa came out a few minutes later and said, "Oh!  I so mad I just want scratch her face up!!"  It was my turn to chuckle!  I guess they can be quite serious about their food.  (true confession number one.... so can I!)

As we sat around tasting the second batch, it occurred to someone that perhaps the market across the street carried not only the pans, but the treat itself as well.  Pimpa called over and sure enough, the owner told her a local Thai lady made them up in her kitchen and that they were available out of her refrigerator case.  $3 for a plate of 8 or so.  Less than 5 minutes later, we were all sitting around eating authentic kanom krok made by a real Thai cook.

I didn't let that deter me from coming home and trying the pan out myself.  The recipe in my Thai Street Food cookbook looked good, but there were some problems with it; it called for 2 T of salt in the batter and I thought that was WAY too much, it also didn't tell when to add several of the ingredients.  So, I got on the Internet again and did a search for recipes.

After reading six or seven different recipes, I came up with my own combination and gave it a try.  But before I could make my kanom krok, I had to season my new pan.  This took several hours as I had to heat it up, oil it, cool it down, repeat several times.  But my efforts paid off as my kanom krok did not stick to the pan and released beautifully!

Now, I don't like to sound arrogant, but I think I have every reason to be proud of my kanom krok! They turned out BETTER than any of the ones I tasted at Mahnin's. (True confession number 2 - since I've never been to Thailand, I have no idea what they are supposed to taste like. But I believe I nailed it!)

Today, I plan to make up another batch and take them down to the restaurant.  If they want to make fun of me for paying too much for a kanom krok pan, let them have their fun.  But the last laugh will be mine when they taste what I'm able to do with that pan!

The First Gathering

It's been one year since I started this blog.  In some ways, it seems like time has flown by, but on the other hand, it seems I've been blogging forever!  The year 2010 saw me headed to Haiti to bring aid to victims of the earthquake, traveling to Turkey to deliver an elderly man home to his family, making lots of new friends and reconnecting with old ones, following a life-long desire to work with clay, finally visiting the great state of California, and of course, cooking up a storm in the kitchen!  If you'd like to see a photo album of my year, you can click this link.

Last Sunday, I hosted the year's first gathering of friends in my home.  My new friend, Pimpa came over with her husband, Khambay, and another young friend from Thailand, Nam.  We had a wonderful time in the kitchen cooking together.  I made an Indian dish of stewed potatoes and split peas, Nam made a Thai dish called Lap, and Pimpa made a pot of Thai chicken coconut soup.


Nam, preparing vegetables for Lap



Pimpa, slicing chicken for Thai coconut soup



Pimpa and Nam busy in the kitchen






Nam, squeezing lime juice over the Lap





at the dinner table



After dinner, we sat in the living room and visited for hours.  Pimpa was quite taken with my coffee table book.  It's an oversized book on street food in Thailand (Thai Street Food) with beautiful pictures and intriguing recipes. 

The first recipe in the book is for a treat called kanom krok.  Pimpa got excited when she saw the picture and told me that whenever she goes back to Thailand, the first thing she wants to eat is kanom krok.  By the time they left, Pimpa had made me promise I would order her a copy of this book.

This past year has been tough with me looking for a job and changes being made at Eddy's work that affect us in unhappy ways.  But the joy that family, friends, and food bring into my life more than compensate for the hard times.  I am so blessed!!

Choices and Changes

This year, I had a very difficult choice to make!  It seems I could have a REAL Christmas tree, OR I could have my husband; but I wasn't going to be allowed to have both.

Eddy and I had a very strained and awkward conversation where he made it quite clear that if I brought a real tree into the house this year, he was going to spend the holidays and probably the whole of next year in a corner of the basement just so he could be sure to avoid stepping on dried pine needles.  He said he would be removing himself from all involvement.

So..... I made a list.  Pros and Cons.  A real Christmas tree has been a tradition for me my whole adult life!  I love the smell, the look, and the very idea of a real tree in my living room.  And I love the traditional activity of going out as a family (these days, as a couple) to pick one out.  On the other hand, I've kind of gotten use to having my husband around, too.  It's nice in the evenings, to sit together in the living room, candles and tree lit, Christmas music softly playing, soaking up the ambiance of the season and sharing bits and pieces about our day and our lives.  Plus, he's handy for lots of little chores, like chopping wood and building fires, helping clean up after dinner, feeding the dog....  I guess I'd miss him if he wasn't around.

I decided to keep the husband and replace the real tree with an artificial one.  So, the search began.  Having been out of work for almost two years now, I only had pennies in my pocket to purchase an artificial tree.  I started by going around to all the thrift stores and second-hand shops.  No luck.

Then I started checking on Craig's List.  Finally, yesterday morning, I saw a listing for a tree that was described as never-been-used-still-in-the-box for only $40.  Sounded good to me.  I called the guy up, made an appointment to come get the tree, got in my car and drove way out east of New Haven to pick it up.

The box had been opened, but I believed Grant was probably right when he said the tree had never been used because the tree stand was still wrapped in plastic and the tree was too well packed to have been removed and replaced.  As Grant was loading the box into the car for me, I asked him, "So....why does someone buy a tree and then not use it?"  He said, "I have no idea.  You'd have to ask my mother.  She recently passed away and we found five Christmas trees still in their boxes!" 

Got the tree home, lugged it into the house and began the task of unpacking and assembling it.  As I reached the bottom of the box, I saw fluffs of pink and white and brown.  At about the same time, I noticed a faint "stench" in the air.  I pulled out the top of the tree and discovered a large mouse nest of several rooms built among the branches.  Turns out, there was even a basement in some of the smaller branches still in the box.  UGH!!!  Little mouse turds all over the bottom of the box.  Large chunks of "tree" missing where the carpenter mouse had nibbled away the leaves and used them to build his walls.  I went to the kitchen and pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.  Then, with my face scrunched up into a protective grimace, I began picking the mouse nest out of the tree.

Once I got the nest out, I saw the damage wasn't really that bad.  I put the tree together and, with Kenny G tooting Christmas carols in the background, put on the lights and decorations.  Now that it's all said and done, I'm pretty happy with the tree.  When Eddy came home, he stood in front of the tree and said, "Now....THAT'S a Christmas tree!"

I've noticed that I seem to have a difficult time with change.  Especially when it comes to letting go of things I've always had, whether or not they are things of value.  But once change is forced upon me, I usually do just fine, and often times end up happier than I was before!



mantel decorations



my new Christmas wreath





cherubs on the mantel





the wisemen cometh





display on front hall table