Waffles and ....?

My cousin, Karen, posted a Facebook status update this morning about waffles -- specifically about the quality (or lack thereof) of the frozen kind. Comments erupted from all over, including from yours truly, extolling the goodness of homemade waffles over even the best of the frozen brands.

It seems funny to me that some of the longest FB threads have to do with food. Have you noticed that? I had one the other day that stemmed from my own status update in which I exalted over successfully smoking a batch of ribs on the grill.

What is it about food that causes such passion? I mean, these were lowly waffles that we were talking about today, but everybody and their uncle weighed in. So much so that Karen's later update confessed her amazement about peoples' passion for waffles. Another long thread erupted from that update, too -- which veered off to pork roll and other New Jersey style delicacies that we natives still crave.

As it turns out, Karen's eldest brother, Jim, makes some of the best waffles I've tasted. He graciously put his recipe out there on FB for all of us. I've got to figure out how to convert it to gluten-free flours -- and if I succeed, I will have an amazing waffle to offer to the world. Especially topped with our own frozen peaches.

Bon appetit!

- Catherine

Real People

Pissed off my 13-year old this evening. Well, I guess it had to happen sometime, and now is as good a time as any. I asked him to bring his plate up out of the family room and back to the kitchen since I was ready to start the dishwasher. “Just a sec,” he yelled from the basement. I gave him more than just a sec, busy as I was with the final loading of dishes, but when I asked the second time – some 3 to 4 minutes later – I got a testy “I’m COMing” as a response. I fired back, “You’ve had more than enough time and I need the plate NOW.” I added “please” at the end of that sentence, actually. Up he came with a murderous look on his face.

I asked him if he wanted to clean the kitchen. He didn’t answer.

He will live.

I grew up in a home where your parents got mad at you frequently and didn’t talk to you other than to yell or to point out some wrongdoing on your part. We children seem to have been more nuisances than bundles of joy, I’m afraid. I have tried, with varying success, to rewrite that script now that I am a parent. Oftentimes I do get it right, and sometimes I don’t – and it always requires thought on my part.

I actually got it right tonight. Said son and I have a good relationship and my annoying him tonight is not going to damage that. He has a problem responding to requests in anything that resembles a timely manner, and his father and I are working on that particular trait with him.

But I still have to second guess myself so often in this parenting thing, trying to be sure I don’t lapse into the old script of just pointing out the wrongdoing, not ever really talking or relating as fellow human beings on the road of life. I don’t want my kids to think they are nuisances and that we can’t be real people together.

It’s a tightrope. But if God is refining me – and He is – then this is one of the methods by which He’s doing it. I should be grateful, although I confess I’m usually not. I watch other parents doing their job with seemingly no effort at all. And then I look at how messy and effort-ful my own parenting has been/can be. Argh.

I should be humming “Refiner’s Fire” right now, with its bold assertion that my “one desire is to be holy.” But I think the somewhat whine-y “Oh, for a Faith That Will Not Shrink” might be nearer my current feelings.

That said, I’m heading downstairs to the family room to see what he’s up to and find out if I can join in or at least hang out. And talk. Like real people.

- Catherine

Rodeo

I spent yesterday at a rodeo – yep, a real, old fashioned rodeo, except the contestants were age 16 and under. One of those contestants was my great-niece, Chrissy, a natural born rider who seems to have been destined for this sport. She rides with amazing grace and is totally in her element when she’s on horseback.

Since this rodeo was held in our neck of the woods (of the Intermountain West, that is), many family members were in attendance and we decided to do a little tailgating. What you have to know is that when the family gets together and food is involved, we don’t do things by half. We have two professional caterers among the extended family, and most of us have worked for one or both of them from time to time. We all love to cook, to prepare good food, and to eat good food together. And we have a grand time doing it.

So, while others were gnawing on fried hamburgers from the concessionaires, we were feasting.

We had exactly one gas grill to work with, but no matter. We rotated preparing the food and cooking it, using chafing dishes to keep everything hot as it came off the grill. In effect, we had our own little kitchen area set up, with three long tables and the grill placed so as to make a square area inside of which we could work.

Our meal consisted of grilled shrimp skewers (with chipotle mustard or spicy raspberry glaze – your choice), grilled corn and vegetables (oh, those mushrooms!), sausages, hot dogs, and yes, a few hamburgers (we did have kids with us, after all). Dessert was one of my sister-in-law’s fabulous chocolate cakes with cream cheese frosting, followed by some drop-dead wonderful cookies baked by one of my nieces.

I didn’t need dinner last night.

In truth, I shouldn’t need to eat until tomorrow morning.

But…there’s another BBQ this afternoon.

- Catherine

Addendum.....

.... to my last post.

I had a good laugh with my mother about the day she skipped school to see Gone With the Wind. They were seniors that year, and she and a friend bugged out early (right after lunch) without permission. Mom said it was a miracle they got out -- because the movie was in town and was so very popular, there were extra precautions being taken at school to prevent kids from leaving early. But Mom and her friend were exemplary students and so they either didn't fall under suspicion or the teachers looked the other way.

Her eldest sister wrote her a "sick" note to take in the next day, forging their mother's signature.

My mom ran into her "partner in crime" at their 50th Reunion several years ago -- their first meeting since high school. The very first thing this woman said to my mother is that she vividly remembered the day they ditched school to go see GWtW! AND -- she'd never told her children about it!

- Catherine

Surreal and a little bit funny

Today I emailed my mother's obituary.....to her, at her request. You see, the Uber-Planner wants everything ready in an envelope so that no one has to fuss about any of her funeral arrangements. That includes the obit, which I insisted on writing because, well, that's what I do.

I carefully included the many aspects of her life -- church, local politics, local service, work, etc., but without being maudlin (the phrase "asleep in the arms of Jesus" does not appear in her obit). I have a horror of the obituary style that seems to be so prevalent today -- where superlative adjectives are used to describe the deceased and every aspect of his/her life. E.g. "Hephzebah was a fantastic mother to fourteen perfect children and a doting grandmother to her fifty eight wonderful grandkids." I did use the adjective "accomplished" when I described her musical activities -- but that's because it's an accurate assessment of my mother's skill and talent. The rest of the obit is as straightforward as my mother. Fitting.

I did leave out the part where she skipped high school to go see "Gone With the Wind" and her eldest sister forged her absentee note. I thought that was a judicious call on my part.

We'll see what Mom thinks.

Surreal. And a little bit funny.

By the way, Mom is still feeling really good with the herbal supplements she's currently taking. Thank you to everyone who continues to pray for her -- it's still a terminal situation, even though the herbs are making her more comfortable right now.

- Catherine

Home again!

The dog has been retrieved from Puppy Summer Camp, the avalanche of mail has been dealt with, the water softener has been repaired, my scooter's battery has been replaced, and we just finished lunch at the local greasy spoon.

Now for the unpacking of the suitcases. Ugly, that.

And then we'll move on to grocery shopping, getting the oil changed, going to the bank, and stopping at the local nursery to pick up some replacement plants (my one planter simply drowned in all the early summer rain that we had -- the plants didn't make it).

And somewhere in here, I need to work out. Oh joy.

Back to life.... back to reality.

How the years go by

I've been doing this gig for 13 summers now; I'm 51 years old and my husband is 53 (he's been doing this job with me for eight summers).

This morning my husband said to me, "What's going to happen in 7 years when I'm 60. Are we going to be too old to run this thing?"

Which stopped and made me think. How old is too old to keep up with the demands of running an event like this? As I blogged a week or so ago, this year really kicked my butt because I wasn't physically prepared for it - and didn't realize that until we got started.

Something I don't really want to think about --- how old is too old for my job?

- Catherine

Home Stretch

Home stretch - just two more days to go after this one. (And today is a 1/2 day for the participants, so it is very quiet in the conference center this afternoon.)

Bad hair day for me, and I slept poorly last night -- so I've got a baseball cap crammed on my head and comfy sneakers on my feet. Will try to be more fashionable for the next two days.

We're expecting very high temperatures for the weekend, which will make our load-out day on Saturday rather miserable. It seems like just yesterday that we were loading in all our equipment and supplies -- and now we're about to load out! There's an eerie quiet that descends on the conference center on the day we load out. We don't even turn on all the lights, so it's like another world from the bustling center of activity that it is for three weeks each summer.

Looking forward, we'll be camping in Montana soon, and then my daughter will be home for a visit, and then this daughter will probably make a visit to her own mother (in the dog days of August, no less -- that's how much I love you, Mom!).

- Catherine

Life at the moment

It’s been a long and tiring couple of weeks since my last blog post.

A little background – I am the Program Officer (research administrator) of a summer mathematics institute for researchers, grad students, undergrad students, college faculty, and high school teachers of mathematics. The summer session is three weeks long, residential for the 285+ participants, and takes place at a conference center in Park City, Utah. I’ve been doing this gig for the last 13 summers, and I really do love the work and the people with whom I work.

I was a much younger and more agile person when I first took this job, though. I’m 51 years old now, and the past year of major hormonal changes, rotator cuff problems, and general aging has taken an unexpected toll. I was not physically prepared for this summer – in fact, I didn’t realize how physically demanding this job is until this summer when I wasn’t ready for it.

My work during the institute requires far more than just sitting at my computer all day – which is pretty much what I do during the year. Instead, I’m moving equipment, running around, up and down stairs, checking this, checking that – in short, everything that goes into running a major event. Couple the increased activity with my hormonal insomnia, and by the end of 12 days without a break, I was so close to collapsing from exhaustion that I was frightened. I’ve never been that tired in all my life. Horrible feeling.

On top of it all, I’ve got about eight participants who are sick – either with the flu (one confirmed, three more suspected) or some other, milder bug. First epidemic we’ve ever had at this institute. Unfortunately, the sick ones don’t want to miss anything and a few of them keep popping in to the sessions and activities, then they relapse and have to go back to their rooms for more rest. In the meantime, they’ve also spread germs again. Sigh.

When our institute dates encompass the 4th of July, our participants get together and create an entry for Park City’s annual 4th of July Parade. This is not your typical small-town parade, by the way. “Whimsical” is one word that comes to mind, “wacky” is another. We are one of the wackier entries, I think, and we are known in Park City (and very much missed in the occasional years when our institute’s timing doesn’t include the holiday). This year the group created a torus out of pvc pipe and balloons. In fact, they created two of these shapes (they look like enormous doughnuts, but have mathematical meaning), and they were carried down the street in the parade. Sandwiched between the two tori was a “Torus Line” – a group of high-kicking participants who sang and danced to a take-off of the song “One” from the show “A Chorus Line.” Great fun – got lots of laughs, too, as we walked along the parade route. I will know later today whether or not we won an award (we usually do, if only because no one knows that the heck we’re doing).

The air conditioner in the conference center building is temperamental. Yesterday I froze to death in my meat locker (oops! office), today I am toasty. No doubt there will be complaints from the meeting rooms. Every year we are assured by the management that the air conditioning system has been fixed/reinstalled/replaced, and every year we have major problems getting the system to be stable. Very frustrating, and one day I hope what they tell me will actually be true.

My mother and my stepfather started on a new regimen of herbal supplements a week ago, and she reports that both of them are feeling fantastic and more energetic than they have in a long while. The herbs may not cure the cancer, but at least she is feeling pretty normal and is much better able to get on with daily life. I like that a lot!

And that’s the news from condo 632.

-Catherine

The news from condo 632

Well, we had four days of sunshine, and glorious it was! This evening the rain has returned, but I'm hopeful that the normal weather pattern of short mountain squalls is all we're dealing with. We'll see what the morning brings.

We are three days away from the start of our summer conference. We expect 288 people to be residing in-house the first week, 283 the second week, and 267 the third week. Most of those folks are staying for the entire three weeks, but a good 50 or so are in and out for one-week or two-week stays. We've had a few last minute changes, necessitating some quick thinking on the part of my staff, but we are ready.

Actually, "prep week" has gone surprisingly well so far (and I say that while knocking on wood, believe me).

My mother is feeling well right now and the bleeding has not returned. She's reading her way through a massive stack of books and bemoaning the fate of her drowned plants (they had as much rain as we did!).

Hank is having a good time at "Puppy Summer Camp" (the home of my nephew and his family). Three other dogs and three cats to play with -- plus children to sleep with at night. Hank's having a great time!

A few of our kids might travel down to see us this weekend. We miss them all, and we especially miss our youngest (age 13). But we have to be patient until we see him again later in July. He's enjoying his time with his Mom right now, and he will be going on a mission trip to Mexico for 10 days in July.

Our daughter in Korea is looking forward to her month in the States, starting July 21. I can't wait to see her in August!

Tonight is another NCIS marathon -- we love NCIS, even in reruns!

That's what's up with us right now.

- Cath

Greetings from Park City

More rain, and still more. The world is a sodden mass of mud and dripping leaves. I am afraid that when summer temperatures finally arrive, it will become very, very hot, very, very quickly.

Tim and I have arrived in Park City for our summer gig (I run a three-week conference for mathematicians and math educators). In the 13 summers that I have been doing this, I have never arrived in the rain. Generally, rain squalls appear in the afternoons during the "monsoon" season that starts in mid-July. So this unrelenting, day after day wet stuff in June is truly crazy!

But here we are, gearing up for the annual event. Tomorrow we start 'load-in' -- i.e. getting all our equipment into the conference center, where we also set up a temporary office so that all staff are on-site for the duration. It's an intense conference for the participants, and no less intense for the staff.

Tim is an alumnus of this program -- he is a mathematics teacher and was a participant before I actually came on staff, so we first met at a 1998 reunion that was held in San Francisco. The first summer after we were married, he went back to being a participant. By the end of that summer, he had identified several ways that he could be of help with the event itself (he has broad work experience), so now we do this together. The first summer was, well, a little tense -- I wasn't used to sharing my living space and, as I mentioned, this is intense work for the time we are up here. We don't live on a normal schedule and I am always on call. But, we have settled in nicely, and this is our 8th summer of working the job together.

Yesterday I did my annual shopping spree in the outlet mall here (necessities, all, except for the dress I found on clearance and couldn't resist).

We will probably go to church this morning -- for the last four summers we've attended the local Vineyard church on the four or five Sundays that we are here. Some of the folk there actually remember us from year to year, which is nice. I have to say that I hate going out in the rain and would be content to sit on the couch this morning and read my Bible, but I suspect Tim will have other ideas.

It is time to start the day here in "water world." Maybe the sun will come out again one day?

-Cath
PS -- my mom is feeling pretty good for the time being. We very much appreciate everyone's continued prayers.

Hank is clinging to me. Even though I do NOT have the suitcases out, he knows, somehow, with that canine sense of his, that I am getting ready to leave again. And Hank is a pup who likes his family to stay at home with him.

Tim and I are racing around today getting ready to leave for our summer work in Utah. That's probably how Hank knows that something's up.

In our absence, Hank will go, as usual, to "Puppy Summer Camp" at the home of my nephew and his family -- where he will have three cats and three other dogs to play with, rather than being just the solitary pup that he is in our home. He will miss us and we will miss him. BUT, he will have some of his favorite canine friends to play with, a small boy to sleep with every night, and the opportunity to go out in the mountains when my nephew takes the horses on trail rides. Not a bad summer for our pup. Not bad at all. At some point, my nephew or niece will photograph or video Hank doing something especially entertaining and then send it to me so I can have a good laugh at our comical dog. I still remember the short video of him playing with their kitten, Blue Spaceship, a few years ago -- and the hilarious ending when, after much butt-wiggling, BS launched his tiny body squarely at Hank's head.

Hank and Blue Spaceship are older now and remain best buddies to this day. And BS is the only cat allowed to eat out of Hank's food bowl after all these years.

Back to my preparations and my clinging dog....

- Cath

The Wardrobe

Over the past week, my mother noted that she needs some new blouses -- longer so that her swollen abdomen is hidden, preferably with sleeves at least to the elbow so that her emaciated arms are also somewhat hidden (the appearance of her arms is really bothering her at the moment).

Yesterday I went shopping and looked over the clearance racks at T.J. Maxx, where I found some linen blouses that must have been leftover from the Spring inventory (because who wears linen in the winter?!). Well, that seemed perfect -- linen is cool in the summer, so she wouldn't be suffering so much from the heat while wearing longer sleeves. I picked up four blouses for about $25 and shipped them off to her immediately from the local UPS Store.

I figured I'd better let Mom know that the blouses are coming, so I called to tell her I'd found some that I thought would be suitable and had sent them off to her. Want to know what my indomitable mother asked me?

"Will they work for winter?"

I was actually speechless for a half-second, because I've got this mind-set that she won't be around next winter to worry about a wardrobe.

Obviously she's thinking differently.



That, too, is my mom!

-Cath

The Fall

My mother came home from the hospital today, and I just got off the phone with her. She sounds fine right now, which just makes this whole thing surreal at times. She sounds like her old self -- until she tells me that her side aches "a little bit." Now, my mother's pain tolerance is legendary (she has often had cavities drilled without Novocaine). I guess in this instance that high level pain threshold will be a good thing and will probably keep her going longer.

She spoke of a phenomenon she'd heard of where studies show that the (chronically ill) elderly are more likely to die in the Fall of the year. Coupled along with that, she'd asked her doctor point blank this morning if he thought she'd make it through the summer. He says that she will (now, I have to wonder if doctors in this instance just try to be as optimistic as possible and say what they think the patient wants to hear -- but I digress). Moreover, HE also says that the elderly are more likely to die in the Fall.

So, my mother, the uber-planner, is planning for the Fall. For one thing, she wants to see the various members of her family again -- her son, her daughter, her grandchildren (granddaughter Abbi is due home from Korea in August for a visit). But the other reason she's planning no earlier than the Fall is because (and here is my mother's great sense of whimsy) she has so many books to read. Everyone's been bringing or sending her books and she now has quite a stack. It should take her all summer to read them, she figures, and that's what she intends to do.

Along with my mother's legendary pain tolerance is her legendary stoicism and perseverance. She has things she wants to do and people she wants to see, and although she knows she is dying, she doesn't intend to let dying get in her way.

Tomorrow night she's going out to dinner with some friends.



That's my mom!

-Cath

Another step down the road

As you know, my mother's cancer (liver and pancreas) is terminal. Yesterday she began bleeding from the rectum and ended up in the hospital. After tests, the doctors have determined that the bleeding is due to the tumor on the liver. Surgically, there is nothing they can do. In fact, there is almost nothing at all that they can do, save make her as comfortable as possible. She thinks the chemo option is no longer viable and that there will be no more.

Right now, she is still not in pain, which is a blessing. In fact, she had two pints of blood transfused yesterday and was feeling quite energetic this afternoon. Her sense of humor was intact, too.

And her voice is strong. So strong that I almost don't believe her when she says that she 'might make it through the summer.' Emphasis on "might."

She reminded me that pancreatic cancer, once it gets hold, is usually a swift killer. I already knew that, having scoured the internet about it, but I let her tell me anyway. We talk very matter of factly about when I might be coming out again and whether I will be able to get away from my very busy summer work schedule, etc., if the worst happens between now and the end of July. We talk about what I will do when my family and I are away on our annual camping trip in August and I need to stay in touch with her and/or the rest of the family about her condition.

Truth is, I may not go on that camping trip this year. We'll see how Mom is (IF Mom is) at the beginning of August. If I do go, I'll drive out from the campsite to the road twice a day in order to have cell phone signal and check in.

And if she is "incapacitated" (Mom's word) by then, I will skip the camping trip all together and head for her bedside.

Mom and I are planners by nature, so this talk was actually comforting to both of us, I think. Even if the plans don't go as we envision, we both like having them in place. It gives us a 'jumping off' point anyway.

Scripture says that our days are appointed by God. I have to admit that I wish He'd appointed a few more for my mother.

-Catherine

Last Chance Harvey

"Last Chance Harvey" is one of my new favorite movies. Starring Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson, it's a small movie with no action but with huge impact. Maybe you have to be someone like me, who found love later in life -- or maybe you just have to be someone like me who is of a 'certain age' with its inherent wisdom. I loved this story of two ordinary, flawed people finding love in their middle aged years.

Do see it. I suppose it qualifies as "chick flick" but it's not a weepy movie and you will not need kleenex. By turns, the story is gently humorous and touching, and the acting is truly sublime. See it for Emma Thompson's performance, if for no other reason.

-Cath
PS -- and it's one of those rare films with no nudity or sexual situations. A refreshing change of pace.

Le weekend

Back in 1974, my high school French teacher insisted that Americanisms were creeping into the French language and that "le weekend" had become a legitimate phrase. I've no idea if that is true.

But, here is it at last, legitimately phrased in French or not: le weekend!

My to-do list is for creative projects today, which beats tedious household chores anytime!

My husband, Tim, built a garden bench for me last week after I couldn't find one that I wanted to buy. All I've seen for purchase here in our town are those pseudo-British Victorian-style park benches with lots of wrought iron, or very rustic, massive, Western-themed benches. Neither suits our yard or the architecture of our house. I wanted a simple bench, similar to what had been in our yard when I was a kid (my brother and I each had our own bench, which sat at the edge of the trees bordering the house's side yard). After looking at a merchandising display at a local garden store, I realized that what I wanted was a basic picnic-table bench with a very slightly reclined back. In other words, a couple of wide boards for the seat and a couple more boards for the back (set at an angle so that you're not forced to sit bolt upright).

Tim created exactly what I was looking for, and today I get to paint it. Any color that I want. This is important because Tim is one of those people who thinks that anything and everything made out of wood should be stained, not painted. We differ on that outlook of decor, to put it mildly, and since this bench is mine, I've claimed the right to paint. I want some kind of faux finish on it, though, so I'll be experimenting on scrap wood while the primer coat dries on the bench itself. Tim looked at me like I had three heads when I mentioned that I was going to try for a faux finish on a bench that would sit outside in the yard. But no matter....

Later on today, I'll finish the little pillows that I need for my dining room chairs (we reupholstered the chairs a few months ago, and, while they look better, they still lack a certain punch -- I think these little pillows will fill the bill nicely).

My son has an activity at church this afternoon, and my husband is spending the day helping some friends with a construction project, so I will have the house to myself most of the day. That means I can play my piano and work on music without disturbing anyone -- so that will be on the to-do list as well!

Hope your Saturday is great!

-Cath

Quandrary

I'm wishing there was some way to save the 'rank and file' jobs that will be going down when GM goes down. But at the same time, where has GM corporate leadership been all these years???

It IS possible to make cars that don't blow out at 100K miles, but the corporate Big Three, for the most part, refused to do so. Which only encouraged budget-conscious folks to buy Japanese so we'd get a car that would go the distance and not bust the budget with costly major repairs. (Yes, I'm talking generalities here -- and I know there are anomalies.)

So, part of me is cheering like mad that corporate GM has to eat crow. And part of me is saddened beyond belief for the workers who will end up on unemployment. How I wish there were some easy answers here!

It's the little things

Like the bear hug of your 22-year old son, smelling of camp fire and mud, but so glad to see you!

Like the moment when your teenager affectionately leans up against you -- in public, no less!

Like the cheerful email from your adult daughter who is living half-way around the world.

Like the way your dog wiggles so hard he almost falls over whenever you come home (even if you were gone only 10 minutes).

Like the way your spouse steals a kiss at just the right moment.

-Cath

Downhill

"On the downhill side" is how my Mom described her condition today. Her doctor concurs. As I feared, she is not long for this world. The pain started last week. There will be another round of chemo this summer to help alleviate the symptoms and make her more comfortable, but it won't slow the growth of the cancer itself.

She may not even last through the chemo, actually. She is dying and we all know that. But she's ready. She's cheerful and peaceful; she knows where she will be going -- home to her Lord and Savior. It's me who's not ready.

But I am going to try very, very, very hard to be my mother's daughter now.

-Cath