Pizza

2015-03-20 17.43.02-2On any given Friday night in homes across this country you can find people eating pizza.  But not like this.  Elevating pizza to the next level and sharing the end of a crazy week on Stowe Lane requires collaboration, the appropriate beverage and removing the smoke detector from the hall ceiling…

My job is making the dough, the rest we leave up to the master with a little “encouragement” from her beloved…

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Looking For Spring

 

2015-03-08 14.19.30-1Only the government would believe that you could cut a foot off the top of a blanket, sew it to the bottom, and have a longer blanket… Native American opinion of Daylight Savings Time

It is no surprise to anyone that I’m not good at daylight savings time, I don’t get it, it doesn’t work for me and I make it perfectly clear that I want my hour back. Now, not in the fall. That said I tried to find a way to work with this ridiculous notion, tradition, dictate…I went looking for spring. I found it in several places, my kitchen window sill with its light and reflections. Haven’t seen those in quite some time and I’ve been waiting all winter.

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This winter has been especially harsh and the snow just kept coming and coming covering everything, curbs, benches, grass, high wires and communication towers. I got glimpses of all those long covered ordinary neighborhood sites emerging in the sun and warmth of the day.

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I walked with Toto and Muriel through the neighborhood without the usual four layers, hat, gloves, and anorak coat to shield against the wind. Toto was thrilled not to have to be subjected to the very un-dog-like sweater or rain gear. And when we got back, there it was just the encouragement I needed.

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Then we enjoyed what I call a transition meal, hearty enough for the chill in the air but fresh enough to beckon spring.

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With that I’m done, I’m shot, I’m totally off my usual rhythm and I know like I know that I’ll be asleep sooner than later. Happy Spring.

The Pleasure of Business

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…The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!” Charles Dickens

There comes a certain point in your career that you realize it’s just…for me it’s cars for you it might be banking or retail or something other than what should be most important in your life.  One of the biggest regrets of the dying is the fact that they put business ahead of everything else. They were Ebenezer Scrooged…I won’t ever have that problem. When I travel for business I make sure that I have friends or family in the vicinity, I plan ahead so that I can spend time with them not at a laptop in a hotel room eating room service each night although room service and a hot bath aren’t entirely out of the question.

This week I had the pleasure of traveling to Atlanta on business.  I came in just a bit early so that I could introduce myself to my newest old friend.  I didn’t realize she would be a new old friend but I had a hunch. We lunched over our work not the other way round.  We would be spending the next three days together and they would turn out to be as delightful as she is.

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I had originally intended to have dinner with a dear friend of mine who was stuck in with the flu, what a disappointment but a Godsend also.  My nephew was trying to get someone to cover his shift for the Friday we had planned to get together but it just wasn’t coming together, this cancellation saved the day and we had a wonderful three hour dinner and catch up.  Spending time one on one away from the family is so much different and I learned just what a cool guy he is, he taught me much in that three hours and I can’t wait to continue where we left off.  Who knows when, who knows where but I know like I know it will happen.

My Summer Sister Kyle has a myriad of former students that come and go and always remember her fondly.  Some of them are still in her life and some of them are also in my life.  I’ve always loved the way that seasons her legacy and come to find out I have a host of “former students” myself.  There were two meetings happening simultaneously and many of the attendees of the other meeting had worked with me before, it became a reunion of sorts between those “boys”, as I call them, and me.  Listening to the funny stories and hearing the gratitude was so heartwarming and unexpected.  I think the world of each of them and now I realize they feel the same toward me.  I long ago stopped wondering what people think of me, it’s really none of my business, but when you find out in such an uplifting fashion there is truly nothing like it.

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After my meeting I planned to have dinner with one of my oldest friends, we stopped counting the years after thirty, and when we sat down together we just picked up right where we left off.  I am blessed to have many old friends, people who have known and loved me over many many years but some just feel like they’ve lived in your soul your entire life.

The day before flying back home I worked with my new collegue and cemented our friendship once and for all before she made her way back home. Remember that room service and a bath thing…my final night, filled with memories of my time in Atlanta, rested and ready to get back home.  I tend to travel on my own, I like the flexibility and the reflection it allows me.

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I set out early the next morning when no one was around, I had an uneventful flight home, and watched the sun come up over Atlanta.  Thank you Atlanta, I don’t know that I’ll see you again but I appreciated your hospitality.

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As we begin our decent into Newark I can’t help wondering if Toto is talking to me.  It’s been a string of heartbreak, painful Vet visits and hasty departures.  I wouldn’t blame her if she never spoke to me again.  Apparently, she’s a forgiving kinda girl, it’s good to be back on my beloved Stowe Lane with memories of my family, and old friends…even the new one.

 

Boredom

_DSC0279It is rare that I find myself bored; perhaps it’s a function of my age, how I grew up or my natural curiosity.  I’m always doing something and more often than not it’s usually devoid of technology.  Technology and I have come to an understanding. I think.  I get it, I use it, it doesn’t use me.  I have a baseline that I continue to come back to and that comes from really knowing myself.

York University professor John Eastwood explains that boredom is just “wanting to, but being unable to engage in satisfying activity.”  He goes on to distinguish boredom from apathy.  “The [bored] person is not engaged but wants to be.  With apathy, he said, there is no urge to do something.”

Richard Ralley, a lecturer in psychology at Edge Hill University in England who studied boredom, said it came to make a kind of sense: If people are slogging away at an activity with little reward, they get annoyed and find themselves feeling bored. If something more engaging comes along, they move on. If nothing does, they may be motivated enough to think of something new themselves. The most creative people, he said, are known to have the greatest toleration for long periods of uncertainty and boredom.

I think it’s important to realize that boredom isn’t necessarily a negative thing states Richard Louv, Co-Founder and Chairman Emeritus of the Children & Nature Network, there’s a big difference between a negatively numbed brain and a constructively bored mind. Constructive boredom stimulates creativity.  Constructively bored kids eventually turn to a book, or build a fort, or pull out the paints (or the computer art program) and create, or come home sweaty from a game of neighborhood basketball.  I feel like I’m still there, still self-directed, and inventive as Louv calls it.

It’s not impossible to achieve even if you don’t feel you’ve ever been there.  It doesn’t mean you’re boring if you’re bored, give it a twist and make it to your advantage.

If you find yourself in a meeting that just willll nottt endddd and you’re sure you will die of boredom, try doodling.  “I can’t tell you how important it is to draw,” says Sunni Brown. “It gets the neurons to fire and expands the mind.” Just why and how this happens is the topic of Brown’s recent book, The Doodle Revolution.

Studies have shown that doodling can free up short- and long-term memory, improve content retention and increase attention span. It can also produce creative insight, because “when the mind starts to engage with visual language, you get neurological access that you don’t have when you’re in a linguistic mode,” says Brown.  You could turn that meeting into a win for yourself. Just sayin.

Leave your phone behind for certain things.  When I walk the dog each morning I don’t take my phone or any technology, I simply walk.  I pay attention to where I’m going and what’s around me and I am engaged.  Here’s what I would have missed just this morning if I was looking at my phone or had ear buds in:

A whistle from the Aunt M’s deck that led to an invitation to breakfast.

Toto face first in the snow, several times, on purpose and a huge belly laugh and sigh of relief that she was playing (after losing Lina).

Hearing the scraping of a shovel stop abruptly to look over and see a worker looking up to the sky.  There were two Blue Jays in “dog fight” mode above us.  To me that’s a sure sign of spring.

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Boredom is a self-reflective emotion you can get lost in and use to your advantage.  John Lennon understood it’s not just watching shadows on the wall you’re about to create.  Boredom teaches the brain to create if given the chance.

“I’m bored’ is a useless thing to say. I mean, you live in a great, big, vast world that you’ve seen none percent of. Even the inside of your own mind is endless; it goes on forever, inwardly, do you understand? The fact that you’re alive is amazing, so you don’t get to say ‘I’m bored.” ― Louis C.K.

Some of my most memorable legacy moments sprung from boredom, a ride with my father, a belly laugh with Cookie on a slow afternoon, new places to explore with camera in hand.  Boredom is the equivalent of “if life gives you lemons…” Try making some creative lemonade.

Ida’s Ravioli

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When two friends are passionate about their heritage and their love of cooking and their recipes ultimately one thing will lead to another.  My dear friend Tonine and I have been talking culinary for years and after comparing and competing we have finally come to a showdown, of sorts.  By the way, she wins or rather her mom, Ida, wins, big time.

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I was thrilled to be invited recently to Sunday dinner at Ida’s where she would be making the now famous ravioli on the even more famous (better be included in the will to Tonine) board she uses for everything pasta.  I came with camera and curiosity and neither was disappointed.  I made myself as invisible as is possible for a round girl like me and clicked away.

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Ida is formidable in her eighties, she has been cooking her entire life and she continues to this day to go to work in a local school cafeteria.  To watch her work with food is to watch a story being told.  There are so many stories being told on this day not the least of which is love of family, pride of heritage and legacy in the making.

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Tonine’s brother Paul, his wife Amy and their two boys, Beau and Bryce came for the “photo shoot” and soon the tiny little apartment was abuzz with chatter and laughter and loudness and teasing and pure love.  Ida loves her family and shows them in completely different ways.  She is still vigilant with her children though they are grown and her grandchildren can do no wrong…because that’s what a Momma and a Nonna does.

The ingredients are ready and the process begins.  Everyone is involved either hands on or with a comment here or there until it comes to the pasta dough, to this day only Ida is kneading and rolling the dough, only her hands know the right consistency and have the right touch.  My guess is that these children make their own pasta in their own homes using the lessons they’ve learned from Ida but in Ida’s house Ida rolls the dough.

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It’s a wonderful back and forth between them all, one jumping in when the other jumps out to keep the boys engaged in a way that keeps them out of trouble but in the mix.  When brother and sister stand side by side the quips and the teasing and the love go back and forth and back and forth, it’s a joy to watch something I’m sure they don’t even know they are doing.  All the while Ida is at work, she pauses to get everyone’s attention and keep their wonderful assembly line going.  Finally the ravioli are ready to cook and enjoy.

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But first the board must be cleaned and the table cleared.  Tonine volunteer’s to clean the board but Ida declines as she brushes the flour from its surface the look on her face reminisces the many times she’s used it and every story that it might tell.  It is held in reverence as a cherished link to times gone by.

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Roused from the reverie Ida finds her way into the kitchen to “cook”, everything she can think of because Italian people can’t help themselves.  The cutlets are fried the pasta water is boiling, the sauce and the vegetables are readied the bread is baked and the wine is poured.

Ida Ravioli (121)While Ida is in the kitchen the drinks are made, Tonine’s husband Mark joins us and the laughter increases a few more decibels.  This is what Sundays are made of in large families, even when they get a bit smaller there is still an easy flow that settles in on a home for Sunday dinner.

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The table is set and the camera and phones are put away.  The TV is off and the eating begins.  The ravioli are large like the opening of the glass they were made with and round and light and flavorful.  They taste of heritage and love and I eat at least three, OK maybe four.  And, of course, a taste of everything else on that table because I certainly don’t want to insult Ida….

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We eat, we talk, we laugh, Tonine and I sit side by side, shoulder to shoulder and pass a look that says this is what life is all about. We can’t look for long or the tears might come. Neighbors come and go with ice and cookies and drinks flow and time passes and then I go home.  But I smile all that night and the next day having been welcomed and trusted with the recipe for Ida’s ravioli.  I won’t make them her way, I could never do them justice but I will look forward to the day, hopefully many many years from now, when the board is passed to Tonine and she asks me to come and help her make ravioli.  It will be my privilege to join her to tell this story again, and again, and again.

Thank you Ida, for trusting me with your story.