Roquettes in the Kitchen

Nick remembered a wine-dipped sugar-crusted cookie from his childhood Christmases at Grandma's, and wanted to learn how to make them. So Grandma brought Abuelita's recipe for Spanish roquettes, which of course, varies from sister to sister even though it's their mother's recipe. Aunt Rita makes it one way, Aunt Nonnie another, all the others have their own version and even some cousins too, but Grandma told Nick her recipe is the best. And there it was, handwritten on the back of a Christmas card, with lines and arrows, scratched out words and missing steps.  Jeff was adamant that he and Nick make the dough and form, bake, dip and roll the roquettes on their own, with his mother watching and advising from outside the boundaries of the kitchen. There was plenty of chatter back and forth as Jeff and Nick tried to make sense of the steps and dough ingredients, which included both anisette and moscato wine. The final step was dipping the baked cookies in more moscato, then rolling in sugar. Sooo how many of these did Nick eat as a kid? 

When the bowls were washed and the cookies set out to dry, Jeff spend more hours rewriting the recipe longhand while it was fresh in his mind, then typing it out in a slightly longer, better organized more detailed version that would make the roquettes easier to make but not as much fun.

Mixing the dough

Testing

Rolling

Tasting

Sugared roquettes 

Fresh of the oven

That one little card turned into three legal size hand-written sheets 

For all the world to see 

La Jolla

December 7, in La Jolla for a wedding on the beach

Of all the places I vacationed as a child, La Jolla was the most magical.

Never mind that they rolled up the streets before 8 pm back then. Better to wake up in the early morning mist and rush down to the cove before the sun peaked through the fog and the day officially began. To have an hour or so to savor the beauty, to feel the solitude and oneness with nature.  

All these years later, I can close my eyes and smell the salty air, hear the rhythmic pounding of the surf and remember the quickening of my heart as I headed alone toward the ocean, feeling much like John Masefield in Sea Fever:

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied

So much has changed in La Jolla, and then not so much.

The main streets are lined with upscale boutiques and restaurants, but the hotel where we stayed is perched at the top of the street leading down to the cove. The balconies and awnings are "new" as I'm sure much of the inside is, but from a distance the rooftop patio looks like the same place we spent chilly evenings with the owners and our friends from Phoenix who knew them.

Back in AZ

We crossed into Arizona from New Mexico early afternoon on Sunday, November 18, glad that we made good time after a tenuous start on Friday.

Packed to the brim with suitcases and storage containers, we had just turned onto Route 83 towards Interstate-55 to St Louis when Jeff noticed smoke coming out of the engine. He quickly detoured to our neighborhood service station for a necessary repair that set us off a few hours, but saved us from an even worse break-down on the road.

Before I could rescue Ozzie from his kennel, he was up on the lift, trapped. I reluctantly left him for the comfort of Janie's couch and a final farewell for the winter.

Almost free. Ozzie went from locked in the van to leashed in the yard.

Keep, Dump, Donate or Recycle?

Those are the options I face while sorting through years of accumulation.  Many things saved for our children's children look worn and out of date, even though there is a sentimental attachment that is hard to sever. 

I was preparing myself to discard Candyland but only got as far as the box, torn and stained with age, when Katie interceded.

For years, it was Katie's favorite game, and next-door neighbor Jimmy knew it.

Everytime Jimmy babysat, he and Katie would race through Candy Cane Forest and up Gum Drop Mountain toward the finish.

Katie thought is was Jimmy's favorite game too, and continued to act enthusiastic about playing long after she had outgrown it.  Jimmy never doubted it was Katie's favorite game. So on it went, until somehow, they discovered neither really liked playing anymore. But how sweet that they were both willing to do so for the other's sake.

Jimmy is now an attorney in Chicago and his family moved away earlier this summer so for now, Candyland is a keeper

Foreign Relations

We enjoyed a visit with George, my second cousin twice removed on my father's side. Well into his 80's, George is an active, adventurous type who was traveling alone from his home near Boston to California. We were happy to provide a bed for the night, a few meals and glasses of wine. In return, we received a wonderful photo journey through Greece and Albania.

George took one of his many trips overseas in July, this time with his son. He was eager to talk about family we don't know, but hope to someday meet.

The house pictured above is where my father lived in Sofratica, Albania until he immigrated to New York as a young adult. George solved the mystery of why Greeks were living in Albania. Simply stated, the border changed and so did the country of their village. 

The groom is this tiny church wedding in Athens is my first cousin Nikos Nonis. And the lady with Nikos and his wife is Aunt Olga, my father's only surviving sister. He left for America when Olga was a young girl and never again saw her, his other sister Vasilo Pilo or mother Efthalia.

Ears to Hear

I'm convinced pets know exactly what we humans are saying and think of ways to foil our plans... if they don't agree, and oftentimes they don't.

I have no doubt Ozzie heard me chatting with Katie about bringing her quilt to Sedona. Later in the day, I passed by her room and noticed a lump on the bed. Ozzie was wrapped inside, no doubt claiming ownership of the quilt that's been his to lay on for five years.

A new perspective

Last year on July 25

August 17 - all flowers, no pumpkins

Not being a real farmer with a cash crop to worry about, I could leave behind my pumpkin patch during the worse drought in years and travel to Alaska with rarely a homeward thought, except about Ozzie and how he was faring from his inside perch. All the same, I silently hoped to see pumpkins peeking out from behind the overgrown vines that immediately sprouted after planting in late May. I am even quoted as predicting a "killer crop" this year, based on the early growth. I told myself it really didn't matter if my pumpkins perished in the heat and extended dry spell, but felt the disappointment welling up in my heart as soon as I viewed the sorry sight. Vines with no runners. Flowers with no fruit. Comparing last year's progress is even more disheartening. The pumpkins are not behind schedule - they're completely off the schedule.

Last spring

This August - low in the middle

Dry at the edges

Covo Hills is drying up in this summer of 2012 drought. The ponds that were still full in May are evaporating - some are already dry.

Last year

This August - empty creek bed

I wondered, what is the message in this summer calamity, this summer of unfruitful harvests and cracked earth. Then I saw it - standing tall next to my perishing pumpkin patch on the edge of the dry pond - its tiny electric flowers reaching heavenward -  a gorgeous bush - flourishing even in the dry summer heat. Too often we see the things we want to see and miss the things we should see.

"...the whole earth is full of His glory." -- Isiah 6:3

It takes a village and then some

No one is happier than Jeff about the Katherine Legge Memorial Park Disc Golf Course. No one. Not the disc golf enthusiasts who put in a collective 500 hours or more in the sweltering heat, Jeff included. Not Kevin Dvorak, the eagle scout who used troop manpower to install poles in concrete. Not even Gina Hassett, the director of Hinsdale Parks and Recreation, who gave the project her blessing and support ten years after it was eliminated from the 2001 Hinsdale Park Facilities ten-year master plan.

Nick was 15, Katie was 11 when Jeff went to the initial master plan meeting in January 2001 to propose a disc golf at Katherine Legge, the first anyone heard of such an idea.  Later that year, when the course was in jeopardy and on the verge of being eliminated from the master plan, our family set up a couple baskets at the Hinsdale Fall Festival and asked residents to sign a petition in support of the project.  Jeff attended many village meetings, submitted a design and proposal and a final letter of disappointment in February 2002 when disc golf was removed, not just from year one, but from the plan altogether. He called Katherine Legge "our largest underutilized parkland asset", a truth echoed many times by many residents over the years.

The completion of the KLM course is a joy for many - in true "if you build it, they will come" fashion. We saw a group of four teens out the first night after the baskets were in. But for Jeff, it is the culmination of a ten-year vision for Hinsdale. I only wish it was completed when our kids were here to play with him.

First morning after the basket installation

Custom crafted and painted signage poles

Pathways over the creek an extra provided by the enthusiasts

In December, we mapped out the course for fun. See Jeff in the distance where a basket would go

The basket

          

A beautiful course even in the drought of 2012

Jeff and Gina

Before the baskets were installed, the disc golf enthusiasts, created, painted and cemented in each hole's numbered sign posts.

Home Alone

I didn't want to leave Ozzie home alone while we went to Alaska, but then I met Kaitlyn and knew he would be okay. Ozzie was raised in the arms of teenage girls.  Katie, Meghan and many others cuddled him as a kitten, and he still likes the attention today.  Later, I heard Charlie got involved so Ozzie was in good sister-brother care.  Now if he would only stop waking us up at 3:30 a.m. 

All grown up

Wendy & Matthew, Barb & Daniel, Marianne & Nicholas

I just found this photo from May, 1988. Nicholas and Daniel were about 2 1/2; Matthew a little younger.  We got together at Barb's house during one of our visits to Phoenix.  If I searched further back, I'd find a photo of Barb from 8th grade in our red Grandview pom uniform. If I went even further into the past,  I could probably find a photo of Wendy from 5th grade, long blond pigtails flying.  But even in high school and college, we didn't take photos like young people now.  Every shot is precious and flawed without the digital do-overs of today.

Here we are 24 years later.  The boys are all grown up, Nick and Daniel are married.

 We're still poolside... still friends and feeling younger than our years.  

Wendy, Marianne and Barb on Cinco de Mayo

Bye bye bear

Little Nicholas loved climbing into his bear chair.  It was soft and snuggly and hugged him always.  Bear moved from Costa Mesa to Miami to Hinsdale, a good companion for watching TV or reading. But little boys grow up and cast off stuffed animals, for even though bear was a chair, he was a stuffed animal first. Bear met his final resting place in the basement, until this week, when covered with mice droppings, he was carried off to the farm.

Old and worn out, no longer plush and pretty, bear burned brightly once more and was gone except in the memory of a little boy and his mom...

and dad.

How ya gonna keep 'em down on the farm now that they've seen Mt. Carroll

Deena, Dan, Marianne and Jeff

We usually choose less elegant cuisine after an overnight at the farm. But this weekend was different. May Fest Magic invaded our good senses and made us nonchalant about our appearances.  (I think Deena and I look pretty good after planting pumpkins and melons in the hot sun.) Besides we were excited to return to Bella Food and Spirits after having a drink there the night before. We were very well fed and pleased to meet the young owners Shaina and Troy.  

More good news - there's an internet cafe in town and some interesting new shops and people.

Jeff had so many mussels, you couldn't see the linguine

My cilantro lime pork chop turned out to be four chops

Deena's country ribs were knife and fork meaty

Dan's shrimp and ravioli in vodka creme sauce was gone in one sitting