art seeps in

On our trip to Barcelona we went to some great museums. At the ones that allowed photos, I tried to record my favorite pictures so I could bring them home to look at over and over again. Something about incredible art gives me a flutter inside, like happiness mixed with hope. 

These are all from the National Art Museum of Catalonia, which is huge and so worthwhile to visit. The one to the right above is made of tiles.

The artists who created these works are all dead, but I felt as if they were still speaking directly to me through their work and I could catch a little of their spirit and be inspired and energized by it. How can an inert object created by a now-dead person spark such joy? It's a mystery that seems beyond words and fills me with endless thoughts of wonder.

the sangria solution

The sun is shining. It is eighty degrees outside. We're still in Florida doing stuff like this:

Though, sadly, in a couple hours, we'll fly back to forty-degree Dallas to face this mess: my daughter's move to Brazil in progress. Much sorting and packing to go.

Oh my goodness. To get us through all of that work, we will need a lot of this: 

My world-famous Sangria. Here is the recipe for you to enjoy. It's great for parties.

Best Sangria Recipe Ever

1 1.5 Liter bottle inexpensive red wine

1 750 Milliliter bottle sweet red wine

1 cup simple syrup (boil equal parts water and sugar till sugar dissolves, then cool mixture)

2 cups brandy

1 cup Grand Marnier, or other brand of orange liqueur

Shaved pith (orange part only, do not include the white part) from 2-3 oranges and 1 lime

A few slices of lime

2-3 sliced oranges and 1 lime, skins and center membrane removed

2 Tablespoons grated cinnamon and 1 teaspoon grated clove wrapped inside of a cheesecloth or piece of clean linen or cotton.

Put all of the above into a large glass container and let marinate for a few days. Remove spice packet and rinds. Mix with equal parts club soda and serve over ice. If you want it sweeter, you can use lemon lime soda (or diet lemon lime soda, like sprite) in place of the club soda, or half of each.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas! Today, all I have is two happy pictures for you to enjoy. I'm in sunny Florida at my mother-in-law house. While all the mad cooking is happening in the kitchen, I stole a few moments to work on photos and blog, which keeps me sane and calm. QG is making the turkey, Lauren is making the roasted butternut squash, Kelly is on apple crisp duty, Janie Sue (the said MIL) is the mashed potato lady and my assignment is cranberry relish, which is already done. It's the sweet/tart variety cooked with wine and cinnamon. Oh yeah, Baby.

These shots are from the Heard Natural Science Museum and Wildlife Sanctuary in McKinney, Texas. I like the chair photo because it reminds me to relax and enjoy the natural beauty nearby. The other one looking through the leaves into the distance seems a bit mysterious yet enticing, which is cool because life holds plenty of delicious mystery to keep us always looking forward to the wonders tomorrow might bring. 

road trip rewind

A few quick pictures from the road trip from LA to Dallas last week. The trip was supposed to start with my daughter picking me up at the airport at seven a.m. after which we would immediately embark on our drive back to Dallas, where I started out earlier that morning.

I was thrilled because, for once, I would not have to be involved in the packing. Sorry, but the girl has a history when it comes to moving. A sordid history involving things like chopping legs off of a couch at four a.m. in a last-ditch effort to make it squeeze through the door. Of course, this was after removing an entire iron railing from a two-story flight of stairs, which was stage one of the couch fitting fiasco. Her history also involves generally trying to cram two tons of material into a one-ton space and not starting to pack until your actual deadline for moving has already passed. This time, she packed up the minivan all by herself in Palo Alto the day before she picked me up. Whoo Hoo! You could not have added a toothpick into that bulging van.

We had a good plan. Until it fell apart. On her way to get me, the rented van's check engine light came on. Why, Lord, why? I'd been so close to not actually having to hoist or shove a single thing. So, I met her at Hertz, where she'd rented it from.

Let me save you the stress of the next two hours simply by saying we were the girls with the two bikes, two sets of snow skis, golf clubs, piles of clothes, shelves, and numerous boxes of kitchen supplies strewn out all over the place in the rental car return lane as we waited for them to find another equally-large van as loads of people streamed by on their way to the airport shuttle shouting out oh-so-helpful comments like, "Wooooah - looks like you ladies did some shopping!" and "Are you gonna take all that stuff on the airplane?" And, yes, I was that person heaving with all of my might to squeeze our final item: the second pair of skis, into the already-full replacement van when I noticed the bike tire we'd overlooked still sitting on the curb to be fit in. Aargh. Eventually, we finagled it in and headed off.

The rest of the drive was great. We stopped in Phoenix to see a dear friend and former co-worker who I still miss, ten years after she moved there. She was nice enough to put us up for the night and we even got to go to yoga with her next morning. I was in love with the mountains and scarlet sunsets we saw as we puttered along, as well as the desert landscapes and muted colors. I hope you enjoy these photos from the drive.

The Goldstars' Annual Christmas Letter

We made it back from California in one piece. A long, long drive, in a jam-packed minivan, which started out poorly. Pictures soon. 

Yesterday, I sat down to write our Christmas letter for the people we never get to see, but want to keep in touch with, like college buddies. I wasn't very motivated to recount all the blah, blah, blah of our ordinary past year. Somehow, (as if by magic) my pen skitterred along and I found myself writing about a much more exciting and totally skilled family than mine will ever be: the Goldstars. Maybe you are lucky enough to have friends or family of the Goldstars' caliber and to have received their annual Holiday letter. Enjoy.

Dear Friends,

Happy Holidays! It’s happened again: an entire year has passed while I have refused to age one tiny bit. Though I’ve added duct tape to my morning beauty regimen. There comes a day when even Oil of Olay’s anti-aging serum cannot eliminate all fine lines and wrinkles and one must turn to something more powerful. Flesh-colored duct tape. You heard it here first.

I hope this past year has been good to you and yours! Now comes the boring part where I recount another typical year for the Goldstar clan. We won the lottery, single-handedly achieved world peace, and lost all but five ounces of our body fat. Then we adopted every stray dog in the Dallas area, opened a soup kitchen, and taught all local toddlers to read. After that, we devised an innovative new approach to public transit, thereby transforming our state into the nation-wide model for both efficiency and commuter satisfaction.

Ted “Big Daddy” Goldstar was once again awarded the Citizen of the Year trophy from our town. He graciously attended the ceremony to humbly accept yet another Golden Dove for our crowded mantle, though he does tire of these compulsory affairs. He would rather be steering his remote control racing boat across the many Olympic-sized swimming pools in our neighborhood or climbing the fifty-foot rock wall he installed in our backyard as part of his efforts to provide local teens with opportunities for “good, clean, fun” in his ongoing “Drug Free You and Me” campaign. He and a few dozen retired law officers keep the wall rocking every weekend, while I putter about in the kitchen baking crabby snacks and homemades for all to enjoy.

When not baking for local teens, I can usually be found teaching African villagers to crochet via Skype, as part of my efforts to promote economic sustainability in developing countries, or working on my treatise on perfect parenting (two thousand pages and counting!)

Speaking of parenting, I am sure you are most anxious to hear of Junior’s exploits this year. He managed to summit both Everest and Kilimanjaro, while simultaneously raising twenty-five-million dollars to save the Rainforest through the ground-breaking “Climb for Mankind” charity app he developed in his spare time.

When not volunteering to coach the local boy’s ten-and-under soccer team (National Champions, three year’s running!), junior keeps busy heading up his investment banking firm, specializing in the funding of micro loans to the Inuit peoples. He also did a little modeling this year (for Armani) and appeared as one of the featured dancers in Beyoncé’s new music video. What fun we have discussing  his adventures each Sunday evening, when he comes home to dine with his father and me, along with his best friend and little sister, affectionately dubbed “Sissy” by all.

Sissy’s had a whirlwind year of travel and performances. Though only a senior in high school, she went on twenty-week world tour with New York’s National Theater Company starring as Banana Leaf Sally in Banana Blues, the poignant musical exposé of scandalous banana-farming practices throughout Central America. I think we can safely say she has done her part to shine a light on the serious banana issues facing us, perhaps even saving a variety or two from extinction. Because of her 4.7 grade point average, she was granted permission to homeschool herself while on tour.

It looks like we will have another valedictorian on our hands come May. Princeton and Harvard are battling it out to see who will claim her. Along with tuition, room and board, Princeton has offered her a live-in maid, but she is holding out for a complimentary pony to maintain the horsemanship skills that got her to the Olympics. This summer, she will be sharing her culinary skills as an appointee to the Governor’s Food Lab. Her team will be developing tasty, yet calorie-free school lunch options. Go, Sissy, go!

Mister Eubanks, the sea turtle we rescued while sailing to Jamaica last summer continues to heal in his personal salt water hot tub in the backyard. Thank goodness Big Daddy was able to perform mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on the little dear, while I successfully stitched up the lacerations he sustained from our titanium rudder thanks to my handy travel sewing kit and some nylon fishing line. I quite enjoyed that, and am ready to thread up again, free of charge, should any of our friends or neighbors require suturing. Heaven only knows, but my services may prove essential in the year to come. I may even be impressed upon to expand my practice to minor surgeries. I’ve long suspected my needlework skills would come in handy one day to serve all of mankind and it looks as if that day is dawning. I stand ready, needle and rubbing alcohol in-hand.

All in all, as you can see, it’s been another mundane year in the Goldstar household. Blessings to one and all!

          Muffie, Big Daddy, Junior, Sissy and Mister Eubanks, the turtle

on the road again

Happy holiday season. This is a shot of my friend Melanie's tree. What a delightful jumble of interesting ornaments. This tree is like life, a collection of memories that we store in our minds to savor. I hope that you are gathering up some special times this season with those you care about. Tomorrow I fly out to California to ride back to Texas with my daughter. Don't want her to make the drive alone toting all of her stuff back here for her move to Brazil in January. Yes, Brazil. If you looked up the word adventurous in the dictionary, you would see her picture. I will miss her, but thank goodness for Skype. I'll be back on Friday with pictures of our drive. Gotta go pack for that 6 am flight - ugh. Way too early. But it was only eighty bucks, so who am I to complain.

grateful day

Today, I'm grateful for fingers of ice that drip from golden-orange leaves. The art of nature never ceases to amaze me.

I'm grateful for my silly dog, Jamiewoo, who spends her days on my bed snuggling with whatever scrap of clothing she can find, be it a dirty sock, a sweater, or the leg of my jeans. Once, I even caught her cuddled up with a scrunchie: not the highlight of her conquests. 

Some days, she has to make do with my pillow. Not ideal. Think slobber.  So, I try to remember to toss my PJ's or some socks from the laundry bin onto the bed every morning just to keep her happy throughout the day. The socks are her favorite. Don't know what that says about my feet, but it's probably not a compliment. On the other hand, just think of all the happiness these size-ten lunkers have brought to the old girl simply by virtue of the socks they dirty. If only people could be so easy to entertain! It's the simple things that matter most. Rest, hanging with your peeps, walking to the park, enjoying a nice bowl of kibble. I tend to forget the joy of ordinary moments, especially during this hectic month, but Jamiewoo keeps patiently trying to remind me. 

I'm also grateful for Christmas ornaments. I got this vintage silver tree ten years ago in an antique shop. My mother-in-law, Jane, gave me her spinning light to put under it. Love that sparkly tree!

my life, as told in grilled-cheese flashbacks

Today, I took 148 pictures of grilled cheese. Is that ridiculous or what? I was trying to get the best angle. That is my excuse, anyhow. I have been in love with grilled cheese since I was five. I have many memories tied up with this most perfect of sandwiches, including almost burning down our house when I was in fifth grade.

I'd walked home from school that day to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch. (They let you leave school for lunch back then: this was before the wheel was invented.) The fire wasn't about the sandwich, it started from the candle I'd lit in my bedroom. (I write this with a candle burning beside me, so, apparently I learned nothing from this escapade.) Don't ask my why I ran up to my bedroom to light a candle then forget about it when I was only home for thirty minutes before I had to dash back to school. Even though the fire was not from the grilled cheese, I still associate the two. Don't worry, a neighbor saw the smoke pouring out of my window and called the fire truck. It came in time to save the house, though my room was ruined, along with all my stuffed animals, which I thought of as family members.

Another grilled cheese memory was a road trip I made with my great aunt Ruth when I was twelve. We were going from Pittsburgh, PA to Lake Temagami, Ontario: a twelve-hour drive, though with Ruth it was a twenty-hour drive, as she was an exceedingly cautious driver, who liked to drive comfortably below the speed limit. It was a major coup that I got to go by car with her, when my sisters, cousins and grandmother all had to go by Greyhound bus. We were going to spend the summer at my grandmother's cabin up there. I got to ride in style (a Gremlin hatchback) because I'd broken my leg in four places trying to slide down a wet, grassy hill and couldn't easily get on or off the bus with my huge cast and crutches. Being a klutz occasionally has its advantages.

Anyhow, Ruth's and my trip spanned two full days. Every time we stopped for a meal, I got grilled cheese and water, that being the cheapest choice, and thrifty me having to buy my own food with the babysitting money I'd saved. By dinner on day two, Aunt Ruth forbid me to get another grilled cheese, saying I had to get a regular meal for my health. I got a pork chop. Of course, I had to pay for it, as Ruth was even thriftier than I was. Oh well, I still had fun riding up there with her.

When I was twenty-three, my mom died. She was already in a coma, but that morning, I felt her leaving as I was driving to work. It was a strange feeling, which I've only ever felt that one time, like my heart skipped a beat and a force field passed over me. I instantly knew what had happened, and turned around to head back to the apartment. I called my sister to confirm the news. I spent the afternoon packing up the car for the long drive across several states as soon as QG could get home from work. I didn't have much of an appetite, but made myself a grilled cheese for lunch and sat out on our tiny porch to eat it in the May sunshine. Somehow, it was comforting eating that sandwich and listening to the birds as I awaited our drive through the night.

All this brings me to today's grilled cheese recipe. It's a very exciting combo, which I recommend you try. Here's how to make it:

Fruity Irish Grilled Cheese

Irish Cheddar, cut into thin slices (I used Kerrygold)
2 slices bread (I used whole wheat, but fresh-baked crusty bread would also be a great choice)
several paper-thin slivers of sliced onion
Orange marmalade, or you could use raspberry jam, fig jam or whatever other kind you like
yellow mustard (optional)

Lay a slice of the bread down, put the cheese slices on it to cover, then the onions. Slather the marmalade on the other slice to coat well, but not heaping. Sandwich the two together and cook over medium to medium-low heat in a fry pan with a little melted butter, turning when golden brown to cook both sides. I like to add mustard before eating the sandwich for the perfect combination of tastes, but this is optional depending on your preference. Enjoy!

ice storm

Sometime during the night, our power went out. This morning, I could barely drag myself out of my warm bed into the freezing room, but, eventually, I popped up, slapped on a few sweaters, and ran into the kitchen. "Oh my gosh, how am I going to make coffee?" Coffee is always my first morning thought. Without it I am nothing. QG looks at me and goes, "Coffee may not be the worst of our worries today." I thought, speak for yourself, Dude. He doesn't like coffee, so he could never understand the intimate bond that coffee and I share, nor the years of shared experiences and camaraderie we have built up developing our relationship. Aaah, the memories.

Thankfully, crisis was averted. QG got out his camping stove and set up shop in the garage, from which he soon emerged with a steaming cup of good old Joe. So I guess he accepts this thing that Joe and I share. Then we looked outside to see the ice covering every surface from tree to road. That freezing rain sounded like gravel hitting our window all night long. So, we lit a fire. It was nearly freezing inside. Jamiewoo had to borrow a sweater. She is a Texas dog and hates cold. Here's where we spent the morning. The power went back on a couple hours ago. Whoot hoot! Oh course, this was right after I'd dragged the melting ice cream along with all of our freezer contents outside into the yard, only to bring them back in. Oh well. I'm considering that my work out for the day. I hope you are staying warm and cozy this December day. If you live in Dallas, may the electricity gods smile upon you and keep your power on.

appalling, yet thrilling

Happy December! I love this month because it means looking forward to Christmas, being all cozy inside when it is cold outside, baking cookies and hitting up whatever holiday parties I can shoehorn my way into. Since I am hosting my pokeno group tomorrow, I was forced to decorate today. I tried to keep it simple due to time constraints and my newly-acquired nearly-Zen-like minimalism. But Santa had other ideas. Or should I say Santas? A posse of those jolly fellows have hijacked my living room. Each one is adorable, right down to his little plastic or wooden heart. Pictures tomorrow if I have time.

Speaking of pictures, yesterday was my second photojournalism class. Most of our time was spent looking at everyone's photos from our first assignment and discussing them. Okay, I'll admit it - I flubbed the assignment. I panicked in my rush to get the shots before the sun went down, got confused about aperture settings, had to use a tripod, which was awkward, and chose the wrong lens. All of my pictures were out of focus. Every single one. Aargh! After the instructor got done telling everyone else what a good job they had done, he looks at me and goes, "You may want to repeat the assignment." After that, he examined my camera to make sure my automatic focus was working properly. It was.  

Yes, I'll repeat the assignment. And I think I've got the aperture thing down now that I've been scared straight. On one hand, I'm pretty appalled by my own ineptitude, but on the other, I'm strangely excited about how much there is yet to learn. I can study photography for years with no chance of boredom. And I plan to. Cha-ching! Aaah, the benefits of being a slow learner.