The Gregarious Homebody

I Make My Own Rules

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 15:41:00 +0000

I know the traditional time to count one's blessings is Thanksgiving and I like Thanksgiving because of it (and the pie), but I think the end of the year is a good time too. And a weird side effect of running for me is that, even though I hate almost every second of it while I'm doing it, I also think lots of happy thoughts while I'm doing it. Weird.

So anyway, these are some of the things I was thinking this week while my thighs were threatening to burn a hole in my underarmor pants and my chest was heaving (and not in a good way):

I am thankful for:

my husband

Yes, that's him.

(in college)

And if you know me well, you know I started dating him in spite of

his propensity for face-painting.

In spite of the many ways in which he makes me INSANE,

I can't imagine my life without him.

He will drive me crazy until the day I die.

That's my version of a love note.

and,

these two

He mumbles and occasionally smells like something

that would be at home on a French cheese plate.

He drives me insane because we seem to speak different languages right now.

And he should be speaking MINE.

She is growing up too fast and wants to bend every rule I make.

She drives me insane because it's like living with Sybil.

I never know who is coming down the stairs in the morning.

But they remind me every day of the value of patience.

And that a hug or a kind word not asked for is the greatest gift.

and,

alcohol

kidding! This photo represents

My friends

I think one of my favorite parts of having a party is when HH and I

break it down after everyone's gone.

How all our friends are just such awesome people.

How cool it is that everyone comes from such different

areas of our life but seem to blend seemlessly.

How lucky we are to know them and count them as family.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Now, since blogger is taking an irritatingly long time loading pictures,

here's a probably-incomplete list of other things I feel grateful for,

in no certain order.

1. Netflix --I know this is shallow and materialistic, but it represents HH having a JOB. And there are few things that give me a day-to-day thrill as seeing one of those red envelopes in my mailbox. Will it be a French film I can't get at Blockbuster? Will it be another Buffy episode???

2. Movies--See above. I luuurve movies. I love being transported. And I have no snobbery. I enjoy a good zombie movie as much as a documentary (who am I kidding? maybe more).

3. An occasional rainy day off in which I feel no guilt about lying around reading a book.

4. School--I love it. Even the homework. I know it's sadly cliche of me as a "nontraditional student." But it just feels good to be where I am right now and I can't believe I've done it.

5. My home--Even though it doesn't measure up in the decorating department to some of the homes I see on all the blogs I follow, it is cozy and very "me." I like my stuff. I like to be here. In fact, I'd rather be here than most places. How lucky is that?

6. The furry children--I just threw up in my mouth a little, writing that. I am NOT one of those people who sees her pets as furry people. A dog is a DOG. BUT, how great is that I can leave a room for 5 minutes and be greeted when I go back in like I've been gone FOR YEARS, over and over again? They're dim but so loveable and they never tell me I'm UNFAIR or ask anything of me but the occasional rub between the ears. Nice.

7. The nephews--I don't see them enough but when I do, they make up for it.

8. Food in the fridge and the time to make it for my family. I know it sounds trite, but I get such a great feeling from baking my own bread or making homemade soup or something else homey for my family. It gives me a ridiculous amount of pleasure when I can take my time doing it.

9. Flannel sheets-- I love bed.

10. Memories--Some of them are pretty sucky, but the ones that aren't are so wonderful.

What are you cherishing?

How to NOT Write a Paper

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 21:53:00 +0000

Make yourself toast even if you're not hungry.
Make yourself a cup of tea.
Send family to movies and then think about how weird it is that you wish you were going to see Edward again.
Make another cup of tea. And another one.
Go to the bathroom 5 times.
Brush your hair while in there. Each time.
Go to the bathroom again and put on more blush while in there even though no one is at home and you're not going anywhere.
Go outside for firewood because you are cold.
Watch dogs play outside in first snow of the season and realize that since your children are older and not as darling (bendable to will), you have replaced them in your heart with your pets just a little.
Go get a sweatshirt with the name of your grad school on it so it not only makes you cozy and lethargic but also mocks you with its collegiate attitude.
Start to write an outline. Get distracted by the cool way you can bullet each item (ooh! daisies!).
Go online to "research" more. Get lost on Facebook playing Scramble.
Blather incoherently about your topic and realize halfway through that your topic has magically changed.
Quit and barely remember to SAVE ~~even though it's crap anyway~~.
Blog about it.

It's On, Baby!

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 01:22:00 +0000

how cute is THIS? Just an idea...

Happily, I got a GREAT response for the Winter
Gastronomy Swap, despite it's ridonkulous name. Yay!

::I do have one swapper who is all on her lonesome
because I don't have an even number. SO, first one to comment and say they'll
swap gets in on the fun!!:: WE HAVE ANOTHER SWAPPER SO EVERYONE WHO ORIGINALLY SIGNED UP IS IN (as of Tuesday).

Now let's keep the good vibes going and go over The Rules one more time, swappers.

1) Email your swapee and get the 411 on them (mailing address? food allergies? bad childhood experience with plaid....whatever. You get the idea).

2) SHOP/CREATE! Remember: we all know it's better to give than to receive, blahblahblah, but make sure you give like YOU would like to receive. In other words, don't skimp out. $25 should be spent.

3) Remember that since this a food swap, all items should be FOOD or FOOD-RELATED. It's totally cool to have stuff for pooches included but remember that you are sending something to the humans too. Otherwise this would be a Pet Food Swap and I'd have to come up with another stupid name.

4) Package it up cute and SEND IT OUT by no later than Monday, January 11. I can feel the utter lack of douchiness from all of your comments so I KNOW no one's going to wuss out and drop the ball here. Because you VOLUNTEERED to do this. Because it is FUN.

Because Laura and I will praise you to high heavens if you do the right thing and talk shit about you if you don't.

(AHEM)

If you need some ideas of what a nice swap looks like and aren't familiar with Laura's blog, click on THIS.

THIS is cute too! And you get to keep it for yourself

instead of giving it for *RamaHanuKwanzMas!

SO, here are the partners **(and I'll be emailing you with each other's e-ddresses):

Laura and Slack

Tracy and Lynn

Tracy and Doreen

Jenni and Bev

Jodi and Katy

Jen and Stephanie

Amanda and Kellie

Michele and The Perfect Details

Moi and Mamacita

So have fun! And don't forget one more thing--when you do get your package, please take pictures. It's fun to see what everyone got and I would be more than happy to post them here!

Happy Swapping!!

*I just think this is funny. No political crap here, people.

**EDITED TO ADD: I'll be getting out your emails by Wednesday. Sick in bed today. YUCK.

Is Anyone Out There? Wanna Swap?

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 04:07:00 +0000

Holy crap, has it really been a month and a half since I've posted?? Wow. I'll be amazed if anyone but me and my two loyal friends (hi Patti! hi Audrey!) are actually reading this. So, what's been happening, you ask, Patti and Audrey? WELL! A hell-of-a-lot. And it's ALL GOOD.

Can I get an A-MEN?! Even I was tired of listening to myself moan before, during The Summer of Suck, and my mother always told me if you can't say anything nice.... you know the rest. But the truth is that I did have some pretty great things going on at the end of the Summer Suck. In fact, I was having a ball. But I felt guilty about it and didn't want to gloat because my man was still Stuck in the Suck (okay, that's the last time I work that in, I swear).

WHAT AM I TALKING ABOUT?

Well, I had started grad school and the most fun job I've ever had to date. I was getting into the groove of an office full of fun and crazy and inviting people and meeting like-minded students and talking about cool stuff.

And then I was going home. To worry. To sadness. To my Handsome Husband who was trying so hard to make Things Happen on the job front. And I felt bad about being so happy. I would dance off to work in the morning, not being able to WAIT until I left the Sad House. And I was sad that both of us weren't having a career ball.

But that's all behind us because HH is employed. WOOT! Who knows if it's the job of a lifetime, but it's a job. And a good one. And one that he can excel at because....he's awesome.

YAY!!

Now I'm not going to go all philosophical because, hey, I'm not that deep. But I AM going to say that now that I don't have to worry ALL THE TIME about things like shopping for food, life is pretty fucking awesome. I have a GREAT LIFE.

Like I said, AWESOME.

So, to celebrate life's awesomeness (and the fact that I can shop, with only the normal amount of restraint now), I have decided to do something I've never done.

I'm hosting a SWAP.

The lovely Laura hosted one during the Suck time (sorry, it's a habit now) that I couldn't participate in but because SHE'S awesome, she included me anyway without any reason at all. I didn't have to buy her anything in exchange. She just sent me a beautiful package for me and my pooches that made me smile and get a tear in my eye. It really did.

Here it is:

nice, right? so so so nice... it made my whole week.

So when she mentioned she wanted to do a holiday or winter one, I thought I'd offer to take the job on for her so she could think about one less thing until said holidays are over, what with all her cookie and cupcake madness going on.

So, here are the rules:

1. Comment if you want to get in on some wintry fun.

2. Agree to put together a package of goodies for the person you are given to swap with.

3. Don't spend more than $25.

4. PUT TOGETHER A PACKAGE OF GOODIES AND MAIL IT by the determined date (to be determined)! Seriously, don't be a douche. If you say you're going to do it, do it. OR at the very least, let me know if something comes up and you can't. Wouldn't you hate it if you were the only one who didn't get something?

4. Either post a picture of your goodies you receive on your blog or send me a picture to post on mine if you don't have a blog of your own. Here's Muttel sniffing the pumpkiny goodness of the Doggie Biscotti Laura sent:

note the insane, hungry eyes

It's really that easy. Our theme is going to be Winter Gastronomy. That means 'food,' people. Since I hate the word "gourmet," I picked the other G word (even though it sounds even more pretentious. Whatever.) And I picked Winter because I AM A JEW and you can *keep your Santa shit to yourself.

Happy Winter! :o)

The theme is LOOSE. You're supposed to have fun on both ends of the swap. You can include anything you want and it doesn't have to be expensive. You can include homemade stuff (awesome) or you can buy goodies (great) or a combination of both (fan-tastic). Just have fun with it because chances are if you do, the person who receives it will too.

So let me know if you want to get in on it. Don't make me hunt you down!

*not really--I kid! It's totally up to you and your wacky Christian ways!

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 03:34:00 +0000

I spend a lot of my conscious time thinking about people in my life. I'm not talking about my children or my husband, although yes it's true that they take up a huge part of my heart and my mind. I'm talking about the people in my life I'm lucky enough to call friends.

One of the reasons I'm always thinking about them is because I'm often hoping against hope that I haven't fucked up our friendship by something stupid I've said. While I'm rarely worried about stuff I've done, I am often inwardly cringing about something I've remembered that came out of my mouth only minutes before. It's not because I'm insecure, really, that I think so much about it, but because, as Audrey, one of these friends has told me, sometimes my edit button gets stuck.

My intention is never to be mean or insensitive. Often, I mean to be completely and utterly sensitive when I say, for instance, that "no wonder your mother-in-law said something so stupid to you! It's because she's an asshole!" Out of the moment I am completely aware that only YOU can say she's an asshole. She's YOUR mother-in-law. My role as friend is to say something benign like "That's terrible" or even "I'm sure she didn't mean it."

But therein lies the problem: when it comes to my friends, I can't hold back. Because the other reason I'm thinking about my friends so much is because they are my rock, my soul, my family. I am so very fortunate that I know a lot of quality people who--lucky me!--think I'm not only worth their time, but worth their love and friendship. And every one of them (some more than others!) will hate someone who's wronged me, almost without question. They just probably won't say it to the person in question like I *oops* might.

The Gregarious Homebody Is...

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 02:13:00 +0000

Watching

Reading

Cooking

Loving

Dreaming of

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 19:21:00 +0000

sidling up to bar just like Mom taught you

I'll be here for you next week and the weeks after that...

For Better or For Worse

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 22:52:00 +0000

Here's hoping this is the worse part. Because it's really not that bad.

Happy Anniversary, HH.

Oh My God Every *Cloud DOES Have One!

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 02:40:00 +0000

*see? there it is!

Despite the fact that my fears (see the abysmal post below) still have reason to be there in the pit of my stomach, despite the fact that my darling husband is sad/frustrated/worried too, despite all this I am feeling so positive that I've made the right choice for our future. And that feels pretty goddamn good.

My mom was so right.

Waah

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 18:37:00 +0000

I'm hearing everyone say lately how FAST the summer's gone. How they can't BELIEVE that it's over. WHERE DID THE TIME GO??? As for me, good riddance to the suckiest suckfest ever.

It was an ENDLESS summer. And not in that breezy, we're having the time of our lives kind of way. I would've loved to enjoy the fact that my husband was home for once. It would've been so nice to take day trips and to be together. It would've been great, if not for the fact that little things such as how will we afford health insurance? and that old chestnut, which bill will have to wait to be paid?

Instead, we lived in the Sad House all summer. Television watching, video game playing and sleeping have been the "activities" we've engaged in. Sure, there are loads of $$-free things we could've done like gardening, little maintenance projects around the house, etc. Lord knows we have plenty of screws, nails, and paint to get stuff done but neither HH nor I could scrape our butts off the couch to do it. A 'why bother' gloom passed over us and we spent time instead on separate couches, reading or watching stupid tv.

I know, waah, as this guy likes to say when someone whines. I know we're lucky by a LOT of people's judgement. I KNOW. But it still doesn't make either of us feel less worried. I've been lucky enough to have started my grad assistantship at KU. The time away from home has been wonderful. I'm busy doing fun stuff, I'm meeting people, I'm doing something. I forget about everything until it's time to come home. And I feel terrible about this but sometimes I'd rather stay at work a few more hours.

Okay. Enough. This post wasn't funny, it wasn't fun to write OR read, and I have to know that good things are right around the corner. Everyone says when one door closes, another opens.

me, with a new attitude

Here's hoping it doesn't slam in our faces.

Just What The Master Ordered

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 02:40:00 +0000

Sometimes there's nothing more comforting than hanging out with someone who's known you since you had an unfortunate 80's haircut and been there through the thick and the thin of post-adolescent growing up. Someone who really knows when you're sad, when you're happy and when you're just full of shit. An old friend.

So the kids and I hauled my ass off the couch and drove to Connecticut last weekend. As you know, things are tight around here, sphincter and money-wise, so a "real" vacation was not going to happen. "Come," said my friend. "All you need is to bake a batch of homemade cookies. That's your payment for a weekend at the beach." Luckily HH is wonderful and gave me the thumb's-up to spend the gas money on a mini break.

5 hours later (holy shit 95 sucks), we arrived in the beautiful hamlet of Old Saybrook, greeted by enthusiastic pseudo-cousins (for M and S) and a large freshly-made Mojito (for me). Kids playing, college roommates yakking, Mojito-swilling. Nice.

They were seriously the best Mojitos I've ever had so I made Jen make me another on the next night so I could photograph it and study her technique. She is The Mojito Master.

Follow along, grasshopper, and you too can be a Master.

This here is Everything You Need to make a boss Mojito. No fancy muddlers here; just a handy-dandy tart shaper ala The Pampered Chef (bought from me, we think, back in the day when I tried being a salesperson. And then ran out of friends.).

Step one: rip up some fresh mint (preferably from your own garden unless your dog pees on it) and muddle the shit out of it. This releases the aromatic and tasty oils. Oh, sweet release....Then add some slices of lime to it and muddle it again.

Add a jigger (or a shot--are they the same?) of rum. Jen and I are relatively cheap dates so we only use one shot for a rather large glass. All my alcoholic friends (you know who you are, Judy, Ann...) can add more if you like.

Next add a shot/jigger of simple syrup. DON'T PURCHASE IT IN THE MIXER SECTION of the supermarket because it's stupid easy to make. In fact, we ran out of it from the batch that Jen made the night before (equal parts sugar and water, simmered on the stove until dissolved and syrupy) so she made a mug-ful in the microwave. Genius!

Anyway, add a shot of it to the glass.

This next step is what makes this The Best Mojito, in my opinion. And it's my blog so I don't care if you disagree. Traditional recipes call for club soda but I haaaaaate club soda but can abide it in a Mojito. But Jen makes it with lime seltzer which I LOVE. SO there you go.

Now add a bunch of ice and stir. Squeeze just a wee bit more lime juice on top and...

Cheers!

Girls

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Sun, 02 Aug 2009 22:20:00 +0000

"There's something magical about Girl Scout Camp."

--M

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 01:11:00 +0000

This is pretty much what happened tonight when M found the grogger from Purim on the Jew shelf in our living room (minus me spazzing on the couch).

The Idiotic Gardener

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 23:28:00 +0000

Remember that "baby cucumber?" Do you, Laura? Well, I INSISTED it was a baby cucumber even though EVERYONE said yo, that's a ZUCCHINI, dumb ass. Well, we were both wrong and we were both right.

WHAT?! you say?

not mine but just here to illustrate dumb-assedness

Turns out that ONE of the plants was a cucumber and one of it is a PUMPKIN VINE! So you squash-insisters were partially correct (although the flowers for the cumumber plant are the same as the squash one. Weird.). No it's not some miracle of science. I mixed up my seedlings because I am, at best, disorganized in my personal life.

Anyhoo, I'm super-psyched because now I can have crispy yummy salads AND I can carve some vegetables into crazy toothless grins. AWESOME!

Here's a Picture of That Cake in Case You Were Waiting with Baited Breath

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 00:24:00 +0000

Cool, huh?

More Garden Serenity

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 15:27:00 +0000

I have no idea what these purple flowers are called.

They and their foliage are so pretty-- and they never seem to die.

Baby cucumber

Because of this wonderful weather
I have a ton of lettuce that doesn't bolt right away.

Grape tomatoes that will, no doubt, not make it

to the inside of the house.

This broccoli was so delicious on top of some homemade pizza.
Why does it taste better when you grow it yourself?

I love mint.
And I finally got smart and planted it in a container
so it wouldn't go wild.
There are 3 varieties in one pot: spearmint, apple mint,
and chocolate mint.
Whoever developed this variety was a horticultural genius.

And this was just thrown in because who doesn't enjoy

a little child labor?
The Boy slices paper into bar mitzvah programs.
This was the only job he had to do for the big day.
He complained incessantly.

Apparently he HAS become a man.

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 20:13:00 +0000

I thought it would be fun to take a break from worrying and photograph

some of my gardening efforts.

I'm no master at this but it makes me unbelievably happy to plant things

and then, holy crap, watch them actually GROW.

Incredible.

Let's take a look, shall we?

This bed came out so pretty, I think, and it was completely accidental.

It's shady but the previous owners had planted a huge mass black-eyed Susans which I love, but since the weeping cherry above it has grown,

it's even shadier so they're sort of dwindling.

In their place I've planted some hostas from my friend Ray, along with perilla from Judy.

I love the way the chartreusey hostas look with the purple perilla.

My favorite flower is the daisy. I love how happy they look

and the fact that they really do stay fresh for a long time.

We had daisies as the main flower at our wedding even though someone told me that

"daisies are not appropriate for a wedding."

It was the first time I ever asserted myself with this person when I said

"they are if it's my wedding,"

And I thank them for that.

We pause here for some good-natured barking. Hi Annie!

This is a really small allium I planted a couple years ago.

Every year i have to remind myself not to pull the thing that looks like wild onions in this spot because it's this allium.

Clearly, I'm not a genius.

Last week I was listening to Alexis and Jennifer

and Alexis was pontificating as she does about someone's dreadful landscaping,

complaining about all the "decorative grasses" that are "actually" weeds.
Really? Who cares 'cause I love them.

And I'm pretty sure Martha does too.

These are the only flowers in the world, practically, that I call by their latin name in my head

(and I think about flowers in my head a lot.

I know it's weird, but to me it's weirdly calming).

I can't remember the name of the variety

even though I think it's really special with that pompom in the middle.

Anyhoo, this here's an echinacea or a coneflower to you yahoos.

Behold, the "common" coneflower. It's not open yet but I love it like this.

I'm fascinated by how the petals unfurl.

Nature is cool.

Okay. You can see I like those echinacea/coneflowers, can't you. This time I DO remember the name of the variety though. This one's called Coconut Lime.

Now you know why I remember it.
yummmmm....

This is my little herb patch, aka Murry McGlaughlin's urinal (yes, he's a dog).

We don't eat much of the herbs here (see previous sentence), but they sure look pretty.

This is sage, lavender, lamb's ears, parsley, chives, and a volunteer chamomile.

This is a patch of the retarded garden.

I planted this plant (no idea the name), not remembering that it flowered
(I liked the leaves)

and then for some reason I planted

every other yellow flower I've ever seen here too.

The flowers in the bed are pretty but it looks like

it was planted by

someone who had a head injury

and

could only see the color yellow.

This is one of my few annuals. I love this flower and don't know it's name.

It comes in a few different shades of purple and pink and I try to plant it every year in this pot with the alberta spruce and another annual I can't remember the name of that I love that's periwinkle blue and shaped like a little daisy.

Speaking of that mystery little periwinkle daisy, every year I go to Country Lawnscapes Nursery and say to the owner, "Do you have that little daisy that has *a name like an old English lady?"

She always knows what I mean and she at least waits until I leave

to talk about what a moron I am.

I love her.

Now we're moving out of the garden and back into the house to look at a few things that also make me smile. Candy. Lots of it.

And sweets from sweet people.

And the fact that these are all from a wonderful day we had with family and friends.

Before the shit hit the fan.

Forgive the shitty picture. The cap was adorable too. And DELICIOUS?

Oh yes, because some were left over and...lost...and subsequently found in my bed. Yeah...

Anyway, each kid got one of these babies to take home and we're so thankful

we had them to give.

Of all the things I did/made/bought for this bar mitzvah, these Zero bars are what made The Boy really happy.

Who knew this is what it would take to make the kid who never really gives a shit about anything except his video games and his friends and oh yeah, I guess his family (after his pets), actually get excited??

I did because I am an exceptional mother who heard him not mumble that they were his favorite one day when we were in Walmart.

So I bought 18 the next day.

And he smiled and hugged me.

Zero bars are now my favorite.

Here's the whole arrangement before the onslaught.

My cousin's 7 year old kept saying "Can I have some now? Can I have some now? Can I have some NOW?" an hour and a half before everyone got there and we were setting up.

And because I am a wonderful person I said

"No way kid. Go chase yourself."

One last picture of sugary goodness. These bowls contain boxed (HORRORS!) cake batter that has been tinted Roy G. Biv (except for the indigo).

The finished and cut cake was as amazing-looking as the uncooked batter but

I didn't get a picture because by that time

I was half in the bag from bar mitzvah margaritas and good cheer.

It didn't taste as good as it looked but I'm a sucker for packaging.

*Holy crap, I just remembered the name! The adorable perwinkle daisy is called a Felicia! woo-hoo! Not that you care because it's not even, like, pictured here. I was just excited. Whatever.

Oh Natalie Dee, How I Love Thee

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 22:09:00 +0000

www,nataliedee.com

The Day After

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 15:16:00 +0000

This is not the post I thought I'd be writing after S's bar mitzvah. It's amazing how something can turn so quickly--from exhilaration to anxiety, from relief to worry. Life is funny like that although it's hard to think of it as "funny" right now. After celebrating The Boy who is now A Man (not) with family, friends, delicious food, and happy drippy children, I thought I'd have a once-familiar feeling of the day after Christmas. A let-down after all that planning. A kind of sadness that such a big day was over. Now I wish I had that kind of feeling.

Instead, HH's bosses dropped The Bomb. In spite of The Economy (the longest four-letter word there is right now for me), I'd tucked away any worries I had a few months ago thinking that the worst was over and we'd dodged a bullet. HH wasn't surprised. When you're in sales, you know exactly where you're at, business-wise. In fact, it's one of the great things (usually) about the job; if you work hard, you see the benefits in an almost immediate way.

And HH always works hard. It's one of his personality traits I wish I could mention on his resume myself, as in "No matter how insignificant or 'important' the job, my husband will work like his life depends on it because it's the right thing to do." He has an amazing amount of integrity. If you hire him to do a job, you can be absolutely sure that HH will get to work early and stay until past the time everyone else leaves. It's who he is.

Which makes this so hard. Someone who identifies so much with his work will inevitably think "what could I have done differently?" no matter how much he intellectually knows the economy's in the shitter. I worry as much about how he feels about himself as much as I worry about what we're going to do. He reads my blog (even when it's a Free Pass Five post) so I hope he really reads this post.

I am proud of my husband. I know we'll be alright because he's such a great asset to every workplace he's ever been. I only hope he can believe it as much as I know it.

The Big Day

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 18:34:00 +0000

My Life in Food

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 19:36:00 +0000

Starting a new Last Day of School tradition--The Volcano: 14 scoops of ice cream + 8 toppings

If my life were a book divided into chapters, each one would be about food.

Described as “a good eater” as a child (which may have something to do with the fact that I have also always been described as “solid”), most of my memories of my life up until now have been food-related. The room in my house growing up that I remember most is not the beautiful bedroom my mother wallpapered and filled with my beloved stuffed animals and dolls, but the kitchen, wallpapered in huge flowers inspired by The Brady Bunch and other houses of the 70’s. It’s not that the food that came out of it was so wonderful. My poor mom had the unenviable task of cooking for four children on a regular basis with totally different schedules and tastes. What was worse is that she also had to cook for a husband who thought having rice instead of mashed potatoes with his meatloaf was radical and who also thought that I “must be adopted” because I didn’t think gravy was one of the four food groups. No, my mother’s food per se wasn’t memorable. I guess I was just a “foodie” in the making. For that reason, I think my first chapter would have to be called:

Chapter One: Fish Sticks and Canned Green Beans—a Love/Hate Relationship

Let me just say from the start that I love fish sticks. A self-described non-fish eater at the time but knowing the health benefits of fish, I don’t think my mother ever tried to make the “real thing” for us but skipped right to the stick. Her own mother was a wonderful woman but a terrible cook and my mom has told me stories about saving whole fillets in her mouth and then somehow asking to be excused from the table to spit it out in the toilet upstairs. So I think she was saving us from our own childhood traumas. I didn’t mind. I can still remember being a very little girl, dipping my fish sticks in extra ketchup (a vegetable) and crunching away happily.

While I loved my mother’s fish sticks (and frozen turkey croquets and TV dinners when a babysitter came on a Saturday night), I did not love my mother’s way with vegetables. “Fresh” vegetables meant that the can had just been opened. Now canned corn or peas can sometimes be a good thing, but green beans should never, ever, be given to anyone, let alone a child who finds most vegetables suspect at best anyway. Canning green beans takes away their wonderful texture and fresh, snappy flavor. Or so I am told because to this day I still have trouble with them; with the help of a food therapist, I hope to work it out. Canning also turns this former bright green vegetable into a color best left to army fatigues and slime that one finds at the bottom of stagnant ponds. Yum!

But my mother’s love of the use of canned vegetables also extended to potatoes. Potatoes! I still don’t understand that one since potatoes are such keepers (I guess it was all about get-it-done-fast convenience) but my husband, whose mother probably didn’t know there were canned vegetables, cannot believe that I actually liked them. Bar none, one of our family’s favorite Sunday night dinners was a mixture of fried canned mini potatoes, scrambled eggs and hot dogs. Delicious! And my kids and husband love it too (all the while still being slightly disturbed by the potatoes).

My mom also used all the early convenience foods (before microwaves made them their own cuisine): Stove-Top Stuffing, Betty Crocker au Gratin (“all rotten”) Potatoes and, of course, Hamburger Helper. I loved them all and didn’t think them inferior to some of my friends’ mothers’ freshly-made-and-not-out-of-a-box food. My mom was ahead of her time; she was a busy housewife who would’ve rather spent time doing fun things than thinking incessantly about what would be a great dinner.

That job, much later on, was to be for me.

I can't believe they wanted anything to eat for dinner that night--

"Fancy" Italian-style Macaroni and Cheese with mozzarella and tomatoes, ready to go into the oven

Stay tuned for Chapter Two: Cauliflower & Awkward Adolescence

"I Like When You're Home, Mommy"

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Fri, 29 May 2009 15:45:00 +0000

Me too, Pie.

The Cheesecake

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Wed, 27 May 2009 15:07:00 +0000

Back in the day, "and that day was a Wednesday," I made the 12 1/2 pounds of cream cheese version weekly

I've been making this same recipe ever since I got out of cooking school (a million years ago) and I have no idea where my friend and baking colleague Beth got it, who Judy is, or what exactly makes it so fabulous. And I don't care because it comes out perfect every single time. It's also adaptable; add some melted chocolate or some pumpkin or some lemon zest and Sambuca (you get the idea) and it's a different but still perfect cake. AND it freezes like a dream. Like I said, PERFECT!

2 1/2 lovely pounds of (*gasp!* Wegmans' brand) cream cheese

I've never been a very careful baker. Maybe that's why decorating a wedding cake is my least favorite thing to do. But with cheesecake, there has to be some care taken and I make sure I do it every time.

Before you even start, the cream cheese and the eggs must be room temperature. These ingredients above have been sitting on my counter for 4 hours. Don't let that scare you. Nothing will happen except your cake will be lump-free. You want this.

Now, you make the crust of your choice, pressing it into a springform pan that has been sprayed with Pam and lined in parchment. I don't have a crust recipe here because I don't use one. And my crust is different every time. Sorry.

Onto the rest of the cake!

When I add the sugar and flour to the cream cheese (the first step), I beat the crap out of it. And I scrape the crap out of it. And then I beat the crap out of it again. After that, I handle it as I would a baby---gently, lovingly, carefully. I know. At this point it's already annoying for you whip-it-together-bakers. But honestly, it's worth it.

So then you add the eggs. ONE AT A TIME, with careful, slowish beating until it's completely absorbed. And then you scrape the sides with a spatula and slowlyish beat it again. Then add the next egg, and so on. From here on, the remaining 2 ingredients get added the same way: slowly beat in. Scrape! Slowly beat again.

NOW, you think you're out of the woods with all this carefulness. NO! You may think you've scraped well. Hahahaha. Oh I've been there. But there is always a lump of cream cheese (even if it's small) lurking in there, waiting to plop down on all that creamy goodness, waiting to make a huge nasty crack in the oven. So, you do something a baker never does. You simply pour the batter into your waiting crust and let the residue in the bowl be.

beautiful, right? Don't be fooled. There could still be some lumpiness in that bowl.

Here's where you're salivating child/husband/dog comes in. Give them the bowl and the spatula. They'll scrape it alright. Right into there quivering-with-anticipation lips. Yeah, yeah, I know there are raw eggs that have been sitting on a counter for 4 hours in there. What can I say, I buy fresh eggs regularly and then I live dangerously.

Okay, you're almost there. Put it in a ridiculously low oven (the temperature in the recipe is not a typo and if you have a convection oven it's lower), set your timer for 1 hour, pour yourself a glass of something, pick up a book, and lie down on the couch. Or whatever it is you do when you're not baking. I rest.

When the timer goes off, you may peek at your cake. You might not be ready to take it out yet. Don't panic. Every oven is different. The way you'll know if it's done if it the edges have started to brown and the middle of the cake quivers a little bit (sort of in a jello-y way). If it really REALLY looks loose, close the door, pick up your book again, and set the timer for 10 more minutes.

When it IS only quivering a bit, turn off your oven. Don't take it out of the oven. Now this next part sounds weird, but it's important. You may think "Ha-HA. No cracks! I'm home-free. NO PROBLEM."

This is what the cheesecake wants you to think.

The next very important step is to take a non-serrated knife (a cake icing metal spatula is the perfect tool for this) and carefully place the tip along the edge of the cake, making sure it goes to bottom of the pan AND the side touches the side of the pan on the inside. Oh-so-carefully, making sure the edge of the knife keeps dragging along the edge of the pan, you drag the knife all the way around the circle of the cake. You're basically trying to free the edges of the cake, crust and all, from the sides of the pan. If you don't do that, as the cake cooks, the sides of the cake will adhere to the side of the pan and pull the center, making the dreaded crack.

Then close the door, leaving the cake inside, pick up your book and beverage of choice and go back to the couch. Your cake should sit inside for at least another 20 minutes.

I know that looks like a crack. It is. BUT IT'S TINY.

Now you can take it out of the oven. Put it in the fridge, brush your teeth, and try not to wake your snoring husband when you get into bed unless you want to. You are, after all, well-rested. teeheehee

Next day you'll thrill at the site or your cake. Really. You will! Now you'll see why it's all worth it, even before tasting it. Your cake is now a tough guy. Able to take flipping, freezing, almost anything. Now you take a piece of cardboard (I have cake boards) or a plate and place it on top of your cheesecake. Don't worry. It can take it. Flip it over and take the bottom of the pan off. It'll come off with no problem because you've lined the bottom of it with parchment paper. Parchment paper is as important to baking as butter and decent pans. Peel off said parchment to reveal the cakes lovely brown bottom *snort*.

Now take your serving platter, put it on top of the exposed cake bottom (teehee) and flip it right-side-up. Now you can do lots of different things with. Top it with fresh fruit and an apricot glaze. Pour some ganache on top and let it drip down the sides. Or, do as I did today and keep it nude, simply wrap it in plastic, making sure to adhere plastic wrap to the sides tightly, and throw it in your freezer, telling your poor son he will DEFINITELY get the first piece a month from now.

Behold! A bad picture but a still-lovely cake.

Judy's Cheesecake

makes one 10-inch cake

2 1/2 pounds cream cheese, room temperature

1 3/4 cups sugar

3 tablespoons flour

5 whole eggs plus 2 yolks, room temperature

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/4 cup heavy cream

Preheat oven to 285 degrees (250 degrees if a convection).

Combine cream cheese, sugar, and flour and beat until smooth and creamy. Add eggs and yolks, one at a time, scraping well in between each egg. Add vanilla and heavy cream, beating carefully until smooth.

Pour into prepared crust. Bake 1 hour or until top is only slightly quivering. Turn oven off and leave cake in the oven 20 minutes. Refrigerate cake overnight.

Variations:

Lemon-Sambuca: add 1/4 cup lemon juice, 1/3 cup Sambuca, and 2 teaspoons lemon zest

Pumpkin Marble: add 1/3 cup pumpkin, 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon, 1/4 teaspoon ginger, and 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg to 2/3 of the plain batter. Pour alternating pumpkin and plain batters into pan and swirl slightly to marblize.

How to Bar Mitzvah on a Budget: Part Two::The Centerpieces

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Wed, 27 May 2009 03:33:00 +0000

Here's where I show that I'm actually doing some of the things I talked about in Part One! And I've been having way too much fun doing it!

I often say that I'm creative but not original. I can imitate/copy almost anyone in drawing, crafting, etc., but don't come up with ideas on my own. Until now! Check it out!

Red Sox Nation! in GUMBALLS!!

IKEA pot filled with a Styrofoam cube, a dowel hot glue-wrapped in three colors of curling ribbon, a Red Sox mint canister from Wegmans , paper "grass", a 'B' painted and glued to a skewer (also painted), a gumball and Hot Tamale-covered Styrofoam ball and star stuff to wrap around and fill in the holes! Everything hot-glued within an inch of its life!

I have 8 of those IKEA pots, so I made 4 more candy-constructed centerpieces: 2 Simpsons-themed ones and 2 with a triangle-shaped styro form covered in green--Sam's favorite color--candy (including Skittles with the S's showing) with green star garland and Stairway to Heaven sheet music as a base filler along with green tissue paper. To the top of each green cone I glued a large wooden S that I spray painted black and sprinkled with glitter. The remaining 2IKEA pots will have candy button paper glued around the top edge (hot glue!) and some hot pink and yellow Zinnias planted in them. Basically because I've run out of candy ideas and can't think of how to recreate the XBox in a centerpiece.

OTHER centerpieces I did crib from a blog about weddings. The couple were self-confessed book nerds so they had piles of books as their centerpieces. Because Sam is doing a mitzvah project for our public library and collecting used books from his guests to donate to the library's book sale, this idea was perfect. And behold!

this one is dog-themed

My second favorite craft supply right now is shrink wrap! All you do is wrap stuff with it (ANYTHING) and then use your hairdryer to heat it and shrink it. AWESOME. The dog is lucky he didn't get shrink-wrapped because it is sooooooo much fun! I finished each off with a beautiful brown wired ribbon in a nice big bow.

That stack is actually one of my least favorites. I got more daring (I'm so crazy!) with the others and made bigger stacks. I made a HUGE one full of kids' books that will serve as a centerpiece on the bimah which is like a stage in a synagogue. Flowers are lovely, but this is free, appropriate, and very Sam.

After tying the big brown bow on each centerpiece, I affixed these little signs made out of card stock and printed on my computer:

I've also been doing a TON of baking. Sam said his least favorite 5 words in the English language are "it's for the bar mitzvah" whenever I tell him what smells yummy! In fact, I've got a cheesecake in the oven as we speak (at 12 am!). It's the best cheesecake ever and I'm going to post the recipe next time.

jentopp@verizon.net (jen) — Mon, 04 May 2009 12:15:00 +0000

Before S started middle school the questions began: Are you worried? Do you think it'll be safe? Do you wish he was going to the other school? My answer was always No to all three questions. Yes, I was worried, but not for the reasons they meant. Middle school is a living hell for a lot of kids and just extremely uncomfortable for some. How would he navigate new social situations? Would he still be a "good boy" or try on some new bad-ass clothes?

These questions were asked, for the most part, by good people, all parents from S's elementary school. Most of them were people you would want to be friends with. People who would never consider themselves to be intolerant. Your average everyday nice white person.

Our elementary school's idea of diversity is the recent array of Asian students who have begun to arrive. A good portion of the school would probably be classified as upper middle class. While we do have some families in need, the school and the school's PTA is well-funded. Not so with the middle school S attends. His middle school has a real cross-population of our community: "well to do," working class city kids, and people from public housing.

It's like real life and I love it.

So today when I dropped S off at school, my heart got a little lift from seeing him walk over to a group of kids as diverse as our country. My peachy white boy slapped hands with another boy with milk chocolate skin who was talking to another the color of mahogany. All were laughing, all were welcome. It was a beautiful thing to see.

But the most amazing part of it is the idea that maybe my children won't even notice how great it is, that this is just the way the world is. Colorful and beautiful.