The Highly Caloric Holiday Baking Post

This is the post where I list all the unhealthy and delicious things I baked (or ate) in the last month. If you want the reflective, emotional holiday post, click here. And listen - if you don't have time to read all this nonsense just promise me you'll jump to the bottom and read about Crumb Pie. Just do it!

1. BUTTERED POPCORN COOKIES
For the "cookie crawl" at work I made Buttered Popcorn Cookies from Smitten Kitchen. If you decide to make them, I highly recommend adding the chocolate chips that Joy the Baker adds. It might be fun to make it with M&Ms or something, too. Note that the popcorn will be chewy, not crunchy. But still good. And I like it because it makes for some efficient snacking - saving you from wasting time eating popcorn, cookies, AND chocolate separately. You don't want to waste too much time because you still need to make

2. MOLASSES CRINKLES
This is my grandmother's recipe and one of my All Time Favorite Cookies Ever Ever Ever. It's like a gingersnap but soft instead of hard. And "if you're anything like me, and I know I am," you hate a crunchy gingersnap (or so you thought. See Pfeffernüsse down below.) I have the recipe written out in Jetta's handwriting. It's always a trip down memory lane to make these. Since I know you are going to ask me for the recipe - everyone always does - here it is.
Molasses Crinkles
mix: 
3/4 cup shortening
1 cup brown sugar
1 egg
1/4 cup molasses
sift together:
2 1/4 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cloves
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon ginger
Mix together. Chill dough. Roll into balls (walnut size) and dip tops in sugar. Place 3 inches apart on greased cookie sheet. Sprinkle a few drops of water over the cookies. Bake @ 325 for 8-10 minutes. 

3. CARAMELS

sea salt caramels

I have no idea what came over me but on a whim one night I decided to make caramels. I thought it'd make a good gift for the staff at the girls' schools. And I thought they looked so cute wrapped in their little parchment papers. Turns out - they're cute and delicious. I made a second batch for family at Christmas. It certainly won't be my last. Here's hoping my beginner's luck holds out! I used this corn syrup free recipe. I would like to try some fancier ones (like this one with pepper!) but would have to succumb to corn syrup.

4. SALTY HONEY PIE
I made this with my mom (who is called Honey) when she visited before Christmas. It was so delicious. We all devoured it before I could even take a picture. It's heavenly.

5. PFEFFERNUSSE

pfeffernüsse

The other thing Mom and I made was Pfeffernüsse - using this recipe. I didn't think I'd like such a crunchy cookie. Wrong! It really is like a "pepper nut" - like the name suggests. All the spice of a molasses crinkle or gingersnap - but with the kick of "pepper," the balance of the powdered sugar, and a nice crunch. Also - great for gift giving!

6. VIN CHAUD
At Christmas, Christy's friend Bruselas transformed my two bottles of Two Buck Chuck into a lovely mulled wine or "Vin Chaud." It's basically orange juice and wine mixed with spices and drunk hot. And even though you wouldn't think of drinking either of those things hot by themselves (and despite the fact that one friend described it as microwave sangria which made me lol my head off), I thoroughly, thoroughly enjoyed it. The spice, the wine, the citrus. Perfect for winter. (Even if we're having a weird winter.)
Bruselas' Vin Chaud
1 liter of OJ
2 bottles of wine
1 cinnamon stick + some ground cinnamon
11 cloves or more, actually
Simmer the OJ and spices for a while. Add wine. 

7. PEPPERMINT BROWNIES
I've been on a real mint chocolate kick for the last - I don't know 37 years or so. But recently I've really been parsing out what it is I do and don't love about all mint/choc combos. In the process I decided I should make these Peppermint Brownies. I'm so glad I did.

8. CRUMB PIE

crumb pie dry

Last but not least, I enjoyed (but did not make) a magnificent thing called Crumb Pie. It came to me in a little plastic baggie in a gift box from some dear old friends who visited between Christmas and New Years. It's an old family recipe. It is dry and a bit funny looking. It's basically flour, sugar, and spices and salt "pressed" into lard. Which I don't quite understand. So instead of trying to describe how it's made, let me attempt to describe how it tastes by simply saying that when you pour a little bit of hot coffee - or a little bit of milk - on top of it and let the Crumb Pie and the beverage merge  into a sort of puddling you will find that it tastes like no other heaven you have ever tasted before. Sweet and creamy, spicy and salty. Unless you're one of those weird-os that doesn't like nutmeg/clove/allspice kind of stuff, you will love it and the magic it creates in your mouth.
Green Family Crumb Pie
Ingredients:
3 1/2 cups flour
3/4 cup lard
2 cups sugar
4 tsp. cinnamon
2 tsp. nutmeg
1 tsp. cloves
1 tsp. allspice
1 tsp. allspice
1 tsp. salt
Instructions:
Mix the flour, sugar, salt and spices in a large bowl. Cut in lard with a pastry cutter and mix well. Press into an 11 by 16 pan or two smaller ones. For a crunchier crumb pie, press down harder. Bake at 350 for 30 minutes. Cut while warm.
Serving suggestions:
It may be called crumb pie, but you eat it dry like a cookie or mix with milk or coffee and stir into a spice pudding. This was a long time Green family recipe, usually eaten for Christmas morning breakfast. A strange, but yummy concoction. Nothing smells better than this when it's baking!

with coffee

with milk

2016: Year in Review

This is the reflective, emotional holiday post. To read the highly caloric baking-only holiday post - click here.

blessings

I was looking at this thing on my door frame - a blessing I wrote on Epiphany, January of 2016. It means Christus mansionem benedicat or "May Christ bless this house."  Since everyone universally agrees - at least in meme-land - that 2016 was an epic fail, I looked at it and thought, "Well, I guess that didn't work."

But then I remembered that I had no deeply held personal associations with any of the big names who passed away so tragically this year. And while I recognize their loss as significant and unfortunate, none of it made me that ... sad. (And even though I DO feel a tragic sense of loss regarding the election, that's less of a 2016 thing and more of a 2015-2020 and beyond thing.)

And - I remembered where WE were - the four of us in this little house - on Epiphany, January of 2016. How quickly I have deposited into my memory banks the fragility of our lives last Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year. How poignant it all seems to me now as we move through a much more solid holiday season this year. How profound the simple things are in this context.

There is a lot to worry about in the world today. And worry about it I will. (I'm good at that.) But for now, the wise thing to do seems to be to take stock.

I didn't know a year ago that we'd lose Daisy. That was the straw that broke this camel's back. I'd endured a lot already as I watched my most beloved family members endure diagnoses and enter recovery. I thought I was in the clear. I lost it when she died. I found it eventually. Whatever "it" is ... homeostasis I guess? But not without help.

I also didn't know, a year ago, that I would find Schultz and Schatzi and that they would be utterly delightful.

Sergio is on a completely different path in life and while his diagnosis last fall and his departure from Hallmark early this year brought major shifts in our world, it also catapulted him into a wonderfully fulfilling career track. It is lovely to stand aside and watch.

And here's something I don't say too often because it is cliche and it is trite and it feels like I'm gloating but ... I really love my job. Hallmark, like all of us, is flawed. But, like all of us - er, most of us, anyway, it means well. And every day I go to work I look forward to how I'm going to spend the day. This - as I have witnessed in Sergio's case - is nothing to sneeze at. And the last 12 months of work have been especially good for me, full of opportunities to better understand myself and my world. And, if we've played our "cards" right, so to speak, opportunities to a make the world a better place.

Compassion makes the world a better place, don't you think? That's the other thing hanging with the 20 + C + M + B + 16 above our back door - a Buddhist mantra of compassion. We're going to need even more of that in 2017 and beyond. It will be my hope, my prayer, and my work to make a compassionate dent wherever I can.

How to Make Your Own Natural Easter Egg Dye while also Struggling with Doubt - in 14 easy steps!

1) Find a recipe for all-natural dyes using any of the bajillion links on Pinterest. Choose whichever recipe you can find quickly before your demanding children distract you from your quest with an urgent need. (I used this one from kitchn.com. Because it was the first one that popped up in my Google search.)

2) Stop by the store to get an assortment of vegetables to make dyes (assuming you weren't able to grow and harvest all your own organic vegetables in your backyard).

3) Gather every single pot or lidded pan that you own and boil every drop of water you can find. Boil all your farm fresh brown and green eggs. (I used eggs from Green Gate Family Farm located in Wheatland, Missouri.) Don't watch the pot.

4) Start peeling, chopping, shredding. Get your first batch of dye material onto the stove top (and fast since you'll have to do this again to make 3 more colors. Since apparently you only have 3 pots and pans with lids).


5) Find an activity for your children to keep them busy while your dyes are cooking (and while you figure out what in the sam hill to do with 4 whole, peeled onions and half a cabbage). May I suggest the following activity for your kids: dying Easter eggs with artificial colors from PAAS. Why not a bit of nostalgia, right? You know you love it - that octagon-shaped bendable egg tool, those little tablets (especially that orange tablet that strangely makes green dye). Memories! I know, I know. It's artificial. (Gasp!) But isn't that part of growing up? Realizing just how much artifice there is around you? And looking for something a little more real even while you hold on to your past because it's simple and comforting?

6) Go ahead and get factory farm eggs for the PAAS project - you know - the white eggs sold in grocery stores that come from undisclosed locations.

7) Trade some of your brown eggs for some of the white eggs from your children's batch - that way you can really test both the artificial and the natural dyes. Kids always love a good experiment.

8) Marvel at how little time the artificial dye project takes while you are using your bare hands to wring "blue" dye from a hot wad of boiled purple cabbage.

9) Hustle all your eggs (brown and white) into their little dye baths in mason jars. Because seriously - what else would you use for a project like this. And also because if you're interested in natural dyes you probably already have a supply of mason jars that multiplies constantly in your cabinets (not unlike bunnies - Easter bunnies, perhaps). Leave the bathing eggs in the fridge for hours on end.

10) Spend some time while you wait thinking about the enormity of the Easter message and about how joyous Easter is supposed to be but also recognizing how sometimes Easter arrives in a cloud of bad news and about how sometimes that joy doesn't come out just right.

11) Check on the natural eggs and see how strange and weak their colors are compared to the bright, confident, unwavering, familiar pinks and blues, etc. of the PAAS project. Put the natural ones back in the fridge for more dye bathing. Keep trying, okay? Don't give up!

12) Wait a few more hours for things to sink in (including the colors). Look to some deep thinkers while you process what Easter means for someone like you. (I used some work by Rachel Held Evans whose chapter on Easter in Searching for Sunday is spot-on perfect.)

13) Unveil the naturally dyed eggs at last - remark on how well the colors actually worked! Combine these eggs with their artificially dyed friends and be amazed at what a rich array of character this motley crew exhibits - even though, quite frankly, none of it looks like the pictures on the Pinterest board or the PAAS packaging. Notice how downright lovely your family's Easter eggs look - irregularities and all.

14) Remember that even if things don't turn out exactly as expected, there is joy to embrace and beauty to behold and so much to be grateful for. And you'd better do that whenever and wherever you can.

Happy Easter. 

Valentine's Day

In one of my last conversations with Mema last year, less than a week before she died, she gave me her ideas for valentines. She must have known that very soon I would be assigned to the Valentine's Day line at work and that I would, in fact, be making valentines. Her ideas were as follows: "a heart with a heart, a heart on top of a heart stacked high, a heart with a hole in it, a heart with a bundle on it." I don't know what "bundle" meant. But today - on the one year anniversary of her death - we are making a bundle of all sorts of valentines. 

Mema always did think that love could solve any problem. Or as my mother phrased it last year, Mema "lived her life as if unconditional love is the cure for everything. And she's right."

The Holidays

Daisy is undeterred by a diagnosis of depression
in the house but super sad about those little antlers.

We had a good Christmas and Thanksgiving. That seems unremarkable, doesn't it? Or obvious, perhaps? But that is sort of a triumphant statement given the context. I had some moments where I thought for sure this holiday season wouldn't go well at all. 

We were completely sideswiped the last two months of 2015. Sergio was diagnosed with depression the first week of November. He writes eloquently and earnestly about it here. He is in a dark place that I can't even begin to imagine. All I can do is to crawl in there with him and try to bring him some light.

It turns out that what he's going through is frighteningly common. But that doesn't mean it's not new to us. It is still very new for us and still fairly unpredictable. We were right in the thick of it from Halloween on. Neither of us quite knew what to expect.

So when I say we had a good Christmas and Thanksgiving, it's remarkable to me. He managed to avoid the darkness enough to do well on the important days - like Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve and Christmas and our anniversary and our anniversary (observed).

And he did well on several "unimportant" days, too; but let's be honest - aren't those unimportant days kind of important, too?

Like the day that we had a pristine picnic in the park where Sergio soaked in lots of missing vitamin D while the girls and I played imaginary frisbee.

Or the day when we took the girls to see The Peanuts Movie, their first movie in a theater, and the girls had such a good time and we did too. And in the movie, Charlie Brown, who is clearly on his own mental health journey, is told by Linus - "maybe it's time you explore the wild possibility that you're a good person and people like you."

Yes, let's explore that.

Happy New Year

Visiting Santa!

Christmas Cuties

vitamin D

First Movie

grateful on Thanksgiving

celebrating 13 years - for better and for worse

Halloween: the Colorful and the Contemplative

Halloween - 2015

Halloween is a little bit of a high holiday around here. I have been really getting into it since we moved to Brookside and since the girls have gotten old enough to love it. This year's preparations have been underway for a while.

Honey offered to make the Halloween costumes for the girls (certainly not the only time recently that my mom has brought Halloween to life) - a rainbow fairy, sometimes called Brite Rainbow, for Julia and "Clara Caterpillar" for Clara (from the book by the same name). The costumes were superb and I could tell that the girls felt like a million bucks as they embodied their alter egos. "I'm a cabbage caterpillar!" Clara declared many times with a winning grin (a frightening costume for all my farmers, I'm sure). And Julia with her rainbow fairy wand, abracadabra-ing everyone and everything. Because rainbows give you powers. Obviously.

We carved our pumpkins weeks ago; they had long since been consumed by decay and squirrels by the time the actual day arrived. But we've been decorating the house in other ways since early October. Ghosts in the trees and skulls on the mantel. We are slowly building a collection.

pumpkin carving

We're also talking a lot about Samhain these days, not just Halloween. Samhain (pronounced "sah-win") is a Gaelic festival (October 31 - November 1) that celebrates the changing of the seasons. Many of our modern Halloween traditions are rooted in Samhain traditions (for example, pumpkin carving came from making lanterns out of turnips with faces carved in them). Samhain also focuses on gratitude for the cycles of life, death, and rebirth.

altar or memorial

Sergio's recent interfaith work (and his familiarity with Day of the Dead traditions) spurred him on to create what in Mexican, Catholic, or Pagan tradition would be called an altar. You might also call it a memorial. This year felt like the right time to bring this element into the mix. Not only have we lost several close family members in the last year, but the girls are old enough to know about these losses and are certainly old enough to talk about them.

Having pictures of our loved ones out for us all to see was a wonderful reminder. And the beautiful white display that Sergio created was a striking spot of clarity and calm that encouraged a pause and a moment of contemplation. Halloween goes hand in hand with All Saints' Day (November 1 on the liturgical calendar in the Episcopal church - a day to recognize those who have gone before). In Day of the Dead tradition (as well as in the Jewish Yarzheit tradition) you light a candle as the spirit of your departed loved ones returns for just a moment. As we discussed each photo with the girls, we brought everyone back if only for just a moment. 

Halloween day arrived and we had way too much to do, far too little time, a major distraction threatening to spoil everything, and a hell-bent determination on our parts to have a fun Halloween party despite it all. Miraculously we pulled through. Friends and family gathered and we joined the entourage of little ghosts and ghouls and Annas and Elsas all traipsing up and down the sidewalks of Morningside. We came back home and put Charlie Brown and the Great Pumpkin on for the kids, and we ate chili, taking turns handing out candy at the front door.

There's nothing like a Halloween party to infuse your life with delight and to entice you to be like your children who don't have to try very hard to be happy. After the revelers had all gone home (or fallen asleep on the floor next to a pile of legos), I began cleaning up and discovered a drawing that Julia had made in the early morning when Sergio and I were far too preoccupied with worry and concern to have a clue what she was doing. It is a drawing of a rainbow (not surprising these days; she does a lot of those) but this one came with a caption. Some days we don't have to try very hard to be happy. But there are other days when we need all the rainbows we can get.

Old Friends and Fathers - a weekend in OKC

The hilly part of Kansas. Not that you can tell. 

Many months ago my friends from high school and I decided to gather from all four corners of the earth (and by that I just mean Boston, New York, Kansas City, and Oklahoma) for a mini reunion. (We have been friends for 20 years now. How is that possible?) We didn't intentionally choose Father's Day weekend as our timeframe for this event. But I'm glad it worked out this way.

The road to OKC was long - as always - but the drive was well worth it. At the end of that road was a very happy Honey & Papa, a couple of delighted cousins, some very dear old friends (and some new babies to meet!) ... and quality time with my dad on Father's Day - a treat not to be overlooked. 

On the way there, Sergio was able to get in a little early Father's Day affection when we stopped on the turnpike to get our wiggles out and the girls tackled him with a hug. Also en route, Julia whispered to me, "Mommy - you picked a good guy to marry." 

And of course she's right. 

Getting our wiggles out and our hugs in. 

mini harvest at my parents' house

Old friends. We are very old friends. 

my dad and me circa 1996

Memorial Day (or Too Many Funerals)

#arliememagandy 

In the last two years I have attended more funerals than I can ever remember attending. Which is to say not that many but more than usual. The tally is four. That's four funerals since Memorial Day 2013. (Four funerals and a wedding, actually.) I keep thinking "that's too many funerals" and then wondering what is the "right" number of funerals?

Perhaps these circumstances are unique because three of the funerals I have been to are those of people who were too young to die. (But what is "old enough?" And where did I get all these strange rules and limits? As if matters of life and death ever play "by the rules." We hold up our ideals anyway.)

This year we spent Memorial Day with Beto and Lindsey, our dear friends and, oh yes, family, too. They are freshly grieving the loss of their sweet son Beckham. Their pain is unbearable. But their spirits are indomitable. It was so good to be with them.

Next month I will get to see my friend Ricki Lea who, in the 9 years that her son battled cancer and in the 21 months since her son died, has always impressed me with her fortitude.

My aunt Jetta would have been 63 earlier this month. This year on her birthday we had not mentioned to the girls that it was Jetta's birthday. But out of no where, Clara said, "I just saw Jetta! Driving that white car!" We chose to pretend that Clara's vision was real.

In February, I attended my grandmother's funeral; the days surrounding that event were what I called a Mema Memorial Bubble. It was more sweet than it was bitter, to simply remember and relive. I think of her so often, especially now that the flowers are in bloom and her birthday nears. She would have been 94 this weekend.

Just today I caught Clara playing in the other room and singing Put Me in Your Pocket - incorrectly but sweetly. Julia chimed in with accurate lyrics and they both carried on singing.

We are all thinking of those who have gone before.

Put Me In Your Pocket (click through to hear Mema sing it)

Put me in your pocket so I'll be close to you

No more will I be lonesome and no more will I be blue

And when we have to part, dear, there'll be no sad adieus

For I'll be in your pocket and I'll go along with you.

Thanksgiving in Nashville (a photo essay)

So glad that one of us actually had our iPhone on hand to capture the great memories from Thanksgiving in Nashville. 

Flying!

Caramel apples!

Like kids in a candy store. 

Our family + downtown Nashville

Clara

Grocery shopping with cousin Ainsley!

Quality time with Grandma Joyce.

Quality time with (Great) Grandma Sarah.
Happy 90th Birthday!

Cousin shenanigans.

Wheeeee!

How I Went Without My iPhone for Six Whole Days and Lived To Tell About It

Love these faces. 

The day before Thanksgiving we were scheduled to fly out in the early afternoon. We had two hurried stops to make on the way to the airport: first was Costco to pick up pictures to share with family; the second stop was the coffee shop nearby to get a cup of coffee to shore us up for the long day ahead.

When I scurried into Costco, I had my phone and wallet in hand. I got the pictures, hopped back in the car, jumped out at the coffee shop, and - standing in line for coffee - noticed my phone was no where on my person. I assumed I'd left it in the car, but when I got back with the coffees we couldn't find it. Sergio called it and we heard nothing. I assumed I'd left it at Costco so we sped back. It wasn't at the photo counter; it wasn't at lost and found. Costco was so busy that day; I just assumed someone had snatched it up for themselves.

By this point we had to go to the airport or risk missing the flight (for a phone? No way!) so I bucked up, endured that fiery twinge that you feel when you realize something is lost FOREVER, and called AT&T to report my phone stolen.

I couldn't stop wondering about my phone. Finally, about half way through the flight, a very plausible theory dawned on me: perhaps the phone had been in my lap when we pulled up at the coffee shop and had dropped out of my lap when I got out of the car. I could just picture it: me sitting inside the car while Sergio calls my phone and my phone sitting in the grass just a few feet away from me on the other side of the car door, ringing and ringing, but me unable to hear it.

As soon as we landed, I called the coffee shop and sure enough, someone had turned in a light blue iPhone: "it has a lot of missed calls from someone named Sergio," said the barista. "Yep," I told him. "That's mine." He kindly offered to keep it there until I got back from vacation...

…in SIX days. *sigh* How was I going to survive for six whole says without my iPhone in my pocket like it always is?

Well now those six days have transpired and I'm pleased to report that I have retrieved and restored my phone, that I survived just fine, and that I may even be better off for having lost it in the first place. Here are...

The Top Six Things I Learned on a Six-Day Holiday Vacation Without My iPhone. 

1. I spend a lot of mental energy worrying about my phone. It wasn't until I did without my phone that I realized how much time I spend thinking about it. Where's my phone? Did I leave it somewhere? Will it fall out of my back pocket and into the bathtub when I'm bathing my kids? Did I leave it in the car? Did I leave it at my desk? Will the phone run out of battery power before I can get back to a charger? I went six whole days without having to ask myself any of those questions. That was liberating.

2. I don't read enough. Maybe you use your smart phone to read really long and interesting articles about contemporary social issues or short stories by prominent authors. Or maybe you use your smart phone to like people's pictures on Instagram. Probably we all do a little bit of both. But not having my phone made me snap out of it and pick up a magazine. I have been so addicted to this little device and its connectivity; I am embarrassed that losing my phone is what it took to pull me out of the click-click, scroll-scroll vortex of my smart phone. Why I couldn't I pull myself out with plain old will power?

3. A lot of people are on their phones. A lot. Long before my phone ever went missing, we instituted a "No Phones at the Table" policy for meal times in our family, in the hopes that we could focus on each other without distraction and set a good example for our kids. Since we adopted this policy and then have dined with other people, I have been surprised to see everyone else on their phones during meals. You've seen it before, haven't you? The folks at the table next to you, all not talking to one another because they're on their phones. Well, let me tell you - if you haven't noticed that before, the way to discover it is to leave your phone at home while you go out of town for 6 days. This video - called "I Forgot My Phone" - does a great job of describing this phenomenon.

4. I don't need to photograph something to truly enjoy it; but I do like taking pictures. For most of the trip I borrowed Sergio's phone to snap some pictures of the girls when "necessary," and I am grateful for that and for the ability to capture funny little scenes, poignant moments, etc. But one afternoon, several of us went on a hike while Sergio stayed in the car with Clara, who was asleep. No Sergio meant no phone which meant no camera. The hike was beautiful - the tall barren trees, the sunlight at just the right angle, the green moss, the brown leaves, the red blazes on the tree trunks, and of course Julia with an eager face, her red puffer coat, and her bright aqua gloves. It was picturesque. I wanted so badly to photograph it. But do you know what I did instead? I just enjoyed it. And it was good.

5. Social media can wait. Since I wasn't checking my phone (my Facebook, my Instagram, etc.) every hour or every half hour, I missed out on a lot of social media. But … I wouldn't exactly say I "missed" it, if you know what I mean. When an opportunity arose to catch up using Sergio's phone, I would log on to my email or Facebook or what not and look for something important that I might have missed. There wasn't that much. One friend's announcement; another set of great pictures; a clever post here or a funny comment there. You know what? It can all wait. I caught up later and spent the rest of the day doing something else. Like going on a hike.

6. I like being connected. Here's another video, a portion of which echoes the "I Forgot My Phone" video by asking "Is it easier to connect? Or harder to stay close?" and contrasts images of loved ones video-chatting or texting with one another from far far away with an image of a family of five at dinner, each absorbed in their own electronic device, oblivious to each other. I have felt precisely those feelings. Every time Julia chats with her grandparents on one of our iPhones, I love them. Every time someone I'm trying to talk to won't stop looking at their phone, I hate smart phones. And when it was Thanksgiving and I didn't have my phone with me to write to my family or post a message of gratitude to friends, I was a little bit sad. I used Sergio's phone to text my family so it's not like I was completely disconnected. But I did feel a little bit out of touch and I didn't like that.

Tonight when Julia saw my phone for the first time (after I picked it up at the coffee shop this morning), she exclaimed very excitedly, "Mommy! Your phone! Are you happy?" Okay, if even a 3-year-old knows how connected (addicted?) you are to your iPhone, then maybe you really are hooked.

I am tired of being mired down by the worst of my smart phone, but I think now I can appreciate the best aspects of this technology. I can already feel some New Years resolutions coming on.

Addendum 1: I have just learned a new word - "nomophobia" which is short for "no-mobile-phone-phobia." I didn't know that word existed before, but I definitely think I had that phobia and conquered it head on when I lost my phone. I'm glad to know I can survive without it.

Addendum 2: Here's a new ad by Apple that makes the case for technological immersion. It is sentimental and beautiful and represents some of the best that a smart phone has to offer. An interesting consideration in my continuing examination of how we use our phones. Apple ad

Our 10th Annual ThanksVegan (TV10)

Well, to be honest, many years ago, when we realized that our ThanksVegan tradition was going to be around for a while, I sort of assumed that we'd be really well off by the time we reached our TENTH ANNUAL ThanksVegan (which seemed so far away). I figured we'd be wealthy enough to fly off to Vegas or Chicago or, come on, at least Fort Worth and have a Destination ThanksVegan like we've always talked about doing, where we gratefully enjoy fine vegan dining in a top notch restaurant prepared by stellar chefs and served to us with little or no effort on our parts.

Instead, we celebrated TV10 with these little rascals on board. And you know what? It was perfect.

Dylan, age 11 months - Clara age 14 months

Rascally Julia was around too, but she is increasingly hard to photograph as she hardly ever sits still. This was now her fourth ThanksVegan (really? No… well… yeah, I guess it is!) and with the addition of the babies, we now amount to a pretty intrusive entourage in the grocery store, and grocery shopping as a group IS an important part of the tradition. That's 7 people shopping for vegan groceries. Oh, and did I mention that Jon was in a wheel chair because he'd just had knee surgery? That's one stroller, one wheel chair, one kids' car shopping cart, and 3 very distracted adults with grocery lists. Fun for us. Perhaps less so for the other shoppers trying to scoot past us. 

the entourage

At home, while the children napped (there were about 5 minutes when I think all 3 kids were asleep at the same time) we reminisced on past ThanksVegan meals (the "tofurkey" at TV1 - never again; our all-breakfast ThanksVegan at TV9 - our most untraditional) and tried to remember what it was like to have so much time to cook and no babies to chase around. Can hardly remember!

The meal

The truth is that we are old hands at this ThanksVegan meal now and those long hours in the kitchen fly by with ease. Jon, hopping across the kitchen on one leg (Hoppin' Jon!), determined to do his part, did most of chopping while the rest of us took turns cooking, setting the table, or wrangling babies. We did outsource our main course and the gravy. Since we are just minutes away from the beloved Eden Alley, we made arrangements to get our very own Spinach and Mushroom Loaf and Mushroom Gravy; it was a perfect main dish. 

I still can't believe it's been 10 years. And yet - in some ways - I can. We have very happily come a long way since then. And I, for one, am grateful. 

The Meal

- Eden Alley's Spinach and Mushroom Loaf

- Eden Alley's Mushroom Gravy

- Mashed Potatoes

- Roasted, Spiced Sweet Potatoes (Smitten Kitchen)

- Sauteed Kale

- Asian Green Beans (a la Erin)

- Butternut Squash Soup (Teany - from this book)

- Jellied Cranberry Sauce and Whole Cranberry Sauce … yes, from a can. Don't judge!

- Fennel Raisin Bread from The New Traditionalist baker who just happened to write to me the morning of ThanksVegan and say, "Can I bring you some bread today?" Um, yes! Perfect!

- Peanut Butter Chocolate Vegan pie for dessert

"Hayoween" (Halloween 2013)

Ghost entourage: we hung these in our car for Trunk or Treat
and in our house for Halloween night.
Julia helped me decide what kinds of faces to give them.

Our second Halloween in this house and I am still marveling at how fun this neighborhood is on this holiday. The picturesque blanket of fall leaves, the funny little costumes, the steady stream of revelers.

Having children + living in this neighborhood
= a love of Halloween I never imagined. 

On my door step I greeted all kinds - kids who were too shy to say "trick or treat" and kids who were too distracted to say "thank you" and kids who were too old to be kids and too cool to have costumes but who wanted candy anyway. 

Not to mention my own children who have taught me that it hardly even matters what costume a kid wears; when that kid is yours and she puts on a costume and smiles at you, you will think she is - without any shadow of a doubt - The Cutest Thing Ever. And you will be right. 

Clara-bear-a

Clara soaked up the whole experience happily. And mostly kept her bear hat on. Julia loved being a dinosaur (even if she didn't love wearing her full costume completely all the time). She did a good job and made a lovely little roar when prompted.

"Roar!"

Oh, and I just remembered my favorite trick or treater last night - a little girl who got her candy, said thank you, turned away down my steps, stopped, picked up a bright red leaf from among the thousands of leaves on my lawn, and turned around to come back and give me the leaf ... as if it were the most important thing in the world.

And for that split second, it was.