Broccoli casserole for supper

I had a wonderful day. You know the kind when everything goes just right? And nothing bad happens? It was one of those.

I came home and cleaned up the kitchen so I could make brownies. Every year at school the staff brings their favorite nibbles for a staff Christmas buffet. It is in the Teacher's Lounge and we can go in and out all day as we have time and grab some cheese & crackers, a brownie, a chicken wing...grazing all day over whatever people have brought. It's fun. My contribution will be brownies.

I also made a broccoli casserole for dinner. I got luscious looking broccoli at the last week's Bountiful Baskets. There was a LOT of it though. Looking for a way to use a great quantity at once I looked up a recipe for broccoli casserole.

The casserole called for broccoli of course, a condensed soup, mayo, eggs, and a box of stuffing. Grated cheese would go on top.

As part of my frugal living, I've committed to no-shopping between weekly grocery shopping trips, and no making special dishes that I have to get one or two ingredients for. This saves time, energy and money. It makes me settle down and be satisfied with what I have. And...it also forces me to be creative.

I had most of the ingredients on hand for the broccoli casserole, except for boxed stuffing mix. However, I'd bought a wagon wheel of rolls from BB last time. Half were wheat and half were pumpkin. Bountiful Baskets breads don't have any preservatives in them so you have to eat them within 3 days or freeze it. Not able to eat them in time before going over, I froze them. Hmmm, what if I used the pumpkin rolls as the dry stuffing substitute? It was a way to use the rolls up and to fix the problem of the one missing ingredient.

I defrosted the rolls, chunked them, and put them in the microwave. When they were soft I put them into the blender and ground them. It worked fine. We'll see how the substitutions work out when I taste the casserole.

I received a lovely, lovely Christmas card from one of the readers at the other blog. She put in a nice note. I am always blown away when people do that. It is so thoughtful and it means so much! There was a herb teabag inside, which tickled me. I made a cup of tea and thanked the Lord for good people.

I have a warm, inviting, comfortable home, food to cook, a job, friends at the job, and brethren out there who love the Lord. It's all good.

Five year old strikes again

I was feeling pretty good about my intellect. Then I had a conversation with a five-year old.

You see, I'd heard a joke and I liked it. I was tickled by the punchline, which eluded me until the joke was finished.

A kindergartener and I were sitting at a table, counting Christmas ornaments for math centers. She finished, so I said to her, 

"Hey, what do you call a boomerang that doesn't come back?"

"A stick."

I said, "How did you know my punchline? How did you know that?"

"Cuz ... its easy."

The tone was "duh."

 

She #nailedit

Merry Christmas decorations

The Day I Saw Nelson Mandela

His Excellency Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela

Nelson Mandela died today. He was 95.

Wikipedia recounts the high points of his life thus:

"Nelson Mandela was a South African anti-apartheid revolutionary and politician who served as President of South Africa from 1994 to 1999. He was the first black South African to hold the office, and the first elected in a fully representative, multiracial election. His government focused on dismantling the legacy of apartheid through tackling institutionalised racism, poverty and inequality, and fostering racial reconciliation."

Of the lowlights, Wikipedia writes,

"Although initially committed to non-violent protest, in association with the South African Communist Party he co-founded the militant Umkhonto we Sizwe (MK) in 1961, leading a bombing campaign against government targets. In 1962 he was arrested, convicted of sabotage and conspiracy to overthrow the government, and sentenced to life imprisonment in the Rivonia Trial. Mandela served 27 years in prison. An international campaign lobbied for his release, which was granted in 1990 amid escalating civil strife."

In 1990 as Mandela was released a global frenzy erupted over his emergence back into public life. Considered a humanitarian, a statesman and a very symbol of dignity under apartheid and beyond, he embarked on a speaking tour. Just a few years later, he earned the Nobel Peace Prize (1993).

Very soon after his release from the South African prison, in 1990 he came to Boston Massachusetts. It was one of his first stops. My husband and I were living in Maine. My sister was attending college in Boston at the time and had an apartment. We made arrangements to stop at her place and then go to the Mandela talk together, with a group of her friends.

Little did we know the throngs that had also made plans to attend. A quarter of a million of them, in fact.

We missed my sister in all the hubbub, so my husband and I headed out to the esplanade, which is a long park alongside the Charles River with a clamshell at the top of it.

We tried walking over to the Park, but he crowds were thronging in a way that felt too dangerous to us. People were elbow to elbow and still piling in. We knew we'd never find my sister, and neither of us felt comfortable in the crowd. So we turned around and went the other way. We potted around in Boston city for a while, amazed at the ghost-town like quality of the place. Storrow Drive, a major thoroughfare, was empty. We walked up it, the wrong way, just to say we did. Whole blocks were deserted. Like tumbleweeds up a forgotten mining town, litter drifted down the streets that not one car or one foot moved on.

We finally made our way back to the car and decided just to head back to Maine. My husband asked me if I was sorry that I had not gotten to hear him speak. I said no, I could catch up with the news, or read a transcript later, but the crowds were too excessive for me.

He cranked up the car and down one of the deserted streets we moseyed, stopping slowly at each block's stop sign. Up ahead, I saw a clutch of very well-dressed men walking briskly on the sidewalk. It seemed that a bunch of them were circled around another man. I said to my husband as we slowed for another stop sign, "Look, something unusual about those men."

We drifted to a stop and looked right. The men stopped walking too, as they waited for us to pass and they could cross the street. The men were about ten feet from us, and all was whisper quiet, as if the entire city had been in an apocalypse and we were the only ones left. In the middle of the circle of walking men, was Nelson Mandela.

Me and my husband, him and five men. That's it. No throng of 250,000 people, no reverberating sound system, just a quiet Sunday walk. He was so close I saw his polka dotted tie and even his tie clip. His hands were gnarled and popped with veins. But what struck me was his smile. I said "Hello Mr Mandela" and he nodded his head and smiled a very bright smile that seemed to emanate from his depths and flow outward. He nodded and then the men hustled him on.

The scene was surely only a few seconds but it seemed longer even at the time. We read later that he liked to walk, having been imprisoned for many years, and despite the security risk, he insisted on a daily constitutional.

It truly seemed like a slow motion moment, one of those otherworldly things that happen to other people, but never to you.

But it did.

The moment doesn't mean a lot, he was just a man after all. But he endured every indignity, was the object of violence, was apart from his family for years, and yet he still smiled a smile of joy. I remember Nelson Mandela, not of his peace prize or stirring speech or world-changing efforts on behalf of all races. I just remember a man who persevered, walked along the street of Boston, and smiled.

Lomo pictures

Lomo is an unusual camera made in St. Petersburg Russia in the 1980s. It was a small, compakt camera, analog, and had its charms and frustrations. It was built sturdily so as to withstand the Russian winters, but it has a plastic lens that allows for some weird saturation and hues, and light leaks would also sometimes ruin a photo. But the hues were deep and vibrant and the light leaks more often than not made a photograph really unusual.

Collectors re-discovered this camera in the 1990s and were wowed. The camera's production was started up again (in China) and the new Lomo was born.

I used to own an original Russian Lomo and I loved it. It didn't love my pocketbook however, seeing as I had to buy film and have it developed. It got too much for me and I gave my Lomo away.

I still have the photos. Lomography as it's called is a mindset and an approach to photography. The original camera was meant to be simple and to offer access to the common man for photography, so Lomographers just point and shot without fussing or getting too technical. It's a freewheeling kind of fun photography and if I had lots of money I'd do it every day. Here is the link to some real, REAL lomographers and their wonderful and kooky photos. They are really beautiful art. I warn you though, you'll fall in love with the photos and you'll get hooked by the Lomo!

Old Port, Portland Maine

Cold day walking in Portland ME

Cityscape, Portland ME

Studious students studying, with coffee

Downstairs pizza shop lobby, with newspaper

Old farm barn, with really big flag, Gray ME

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving to one and all. I hope you are having a great, relaxing day. If you're reading this from anoher country besides the US and don't celebrate Thansgiving, then I wish you good day anyway.

I am on vacation from work this week. I've been quite sick all week with bronchitis, so that worked out well. I've had an opportunity to rest, take NyQuil, drink tea, and cough in peace without missing work or breathing on anyone.

By the numbers:

Documentaries watched: 4

Yoo Hoo Mrs Goldberg
Herb and Dorothy
The Great American West
Becoming Santa

TV shows on hulu watched: 3

Newhart
Lou Grant
Inspector Morse

Hugs received: 2

Hugs given: 1
(1 of the above hugs was an ambush hug, given and done before reciprocation could be enacted)

Bountiful Baskets Pumpkin-cranberry rolls eaten: 4

Thanksgiving dinners packed: 700

Thanksgiving dinners eaten: 1
turkey
gravy
stuffing
cranberry sauce
green beans
sweet potato
wheat roll
pound cake
hot tea

Times Neti pot used: 12
*Note, buy more nasal salt

Friends to the rescue: 1

Three more days and then back to work for a few more weeks until the long Christmas break. Though I hold no ill will for being sick over the break, as I'd have been at home anyway, I would like to enjoy Christmas break with a bit more consciousness and cognitive awareness than I did this Thanksgiving break. Between the sinus, naps, and NyQUil, I've really been out of it.

**Disclaimer: If I wrote or said anything while under the NyQuil haze, I am not to be held responsible. It's the evilly effective green syrup talking.

Documentary: Herb and Dorothy

On Hulu I watched another terrific documentary. This one is of unassuming Herb and Dorothy, both civil servants living in NYC on less that $50,000 per year. Yet with their modest means they became New York's premier contemporary art collectors.

Living on her salary as a librarian at the Brooklyn Public Library and using Herb's salary as a night postal clerk, they amassed almost 5,000 pieces of contemporary art, all crammed into their tiny 1-bedroom NYC apartment.

Toward the end of their lives, they donated their collection to the National Museum of Art in Washington DC, because (the museum keeps donated art forever and won't trade or sell it, and because they charge no admission.) Dorothy explained, 'we worked for the government all our lives, and we felt the art belonged to the American people, and the National Museum is a museum for the people.'

Just as important as the art were the relationships the pair cultivated with the artists. They befriended them, offered moral support and gave of their modest financial means. Patrons in the people's sense, they amassed friendships glued by their mutual love of art, especially the 'difficult' pieces that most art lovers don't understand nor enjoy.

Heteronomy Charles Clough Painting: enamel on linen

And as with the art and the relationships with the artists, the documentary also chronicles the couple's marriage. Dorothy said when the pair had been married for 45 years that she could count on one hand the number of times they had been apart. "We just really like to be with each other." They are charming and wonderful together and it is a joy to see a pair grow together through the years in mutual love and support.

Untitled Robert Barry Print: print on light blue glossed paper

Herb passed away at the age of 89 in 2012. Dorothy travels and attends theatre, but is extremely lonely for Herb. She no longer collects, but in addition to visiting the 1,000 pieces she and Herb had donated to the American Museum she also attends museum openings in all the other places she has donated their collected works.

The filmmaker followed up the original documentary Herb and Dorothy with a film called 50X50. The American Museum could only absorb 1000 of their pieces, so of the rest, the 50X50 project was born.  "The sheer size of the collection—far too large to be reasonably placed in any one institution—led to the development of The Dorothy and Herbert Vogel Collection: Fifty Works for Fifty States project, which enabled the Vogels to share the gift of their collection nationwide. This project has received essential support from the National Endowment for the Arts and the Institute of Museum and Library Services."

You can view all the institutions in each state which have so far accepted a Vogel donation here.

The New Yorker wrote a lovely article about Dorothy Vogel earlier this year, here. It begins this way

Dorothy and Herbert Vogel led the sort of life that sounds like a New York legend: two state employees, living on less than fifty thousand dollars a year, manage to amass a collection of more than four thousand works of contemporary art. It’s hard to believe such a feat would be economically possible, but the Vogels were early enthusiasts who collected what was at first unpopular—inaccessible minimalist and conceptual works—and would now be worth millions. Not everyone in their collection was widely known, but many were: Richard Tuttle, Sol LeWitt, Jeanne-Claude and Christo. The Vogels themselves were minor celebrities, known by art-world regulars around the city, and they were beloved: at a 1976 event to benefit P.S. 1, the founder, Alanna Heiss, threw a prom. There was a ballot for prom king and queen, and Herb and Dorothy won.

The documentary is on hulu but snagfilms has it here, free. Please take a look at a charming film.

Herb and Dorothy, 87 min

Beaches, blankies, and bingo! Winter's here

'Tis a cold and blustery day here in north Georgia, but the sun is spectacularly shining and I am warm and clean and dry. It's the little things. Plus, I just ate a scrambled egg wrapped in a soft flour tortilla, one of my new favorite meals.

My bronchitis got a bit worse yesterday but a dear friend came to my rescue last night, showing up before the Dollar Store closed having bought me NyQuil, Cough med, Kleenex, and cough drops. And some Pop Tarts, lol.

NyQuil...what is IN that stuff? It always knocks me out and last night was no exception. Man, it felt good to get a straight 8 hours' rest with no coughing. My muscles were tired and overworked this morning from all that coughing all day yesterday.

Speaking of yesterday, is there anything better on a cold Sunday afternoon than to curl up on the couch with a blankie and a kitty or two, and watching Shrek? Nope, there isn't.

I was going through my old photos a few days ago and came across this one from Naples, FL. Or Venice FL. I really like this, the low perspective, the sand castle in the foreground and the footsteps leading to the two people almost off the edge of the frame in the background. It was taken with a Lomo camera, which I used to love, love, love. Just file this photo under 'things I like for no reason'. Or maybe the reason is I'm thinking about a warm beach right now on this blustery cold day!

It's Thanksgiving Break!

I have the week off next week, for Thanksgiving vacation from school. Yay! I love it. I especially love that it is 61 degrees and sunny right now. My windows are open.

Today was Bountiful Baskets day. This week's basket was full of tomatoes, lettuce, carrots, cukes, celery, onions, yams, potatoes, grapes, apples, bananas and cantaloupe. I also bought a box of Satsuma oranges. These were the oranges I was introduced to from last week's basket. They were cultivated in Japan, are grown in CA, have a slip-peel (easy to peel), only one seed per orange and they just melt in your mouth. Each orange is slightly larger than a golf ball and a bit smaller than a tennis ball. Here is the lot of them. Lot is the key word.

I've eaten four so far. Only a thousand left to go! Or, better yet, time to share!

I've got bronchitis but that is par for the course. I always do for Thanksgiving. My old friend, Bronc Hitis, he always comes to visit for turkey day!

I'm making vegetable soup with egg noodles. The produce is from Bountiful Baskets. I'm using onion, celery, and zucchini, plus green beans from a friend's garden which I flash froze a while ago, and pasta. I wish I had rice but I don't so that's that. I put rice on the grocery list.

I haven't had rice for a long time, preferring pasta or quinoa in these past months. But now I've come around again to good ole brown rice. Funny how we go in cycles of preferences. I'll get a bag of rice Friday when I shop next.

I also have a hankering for making my own beans. I'm going to try making garbanzo beans from dried and set aside to use some for homemade hummus. I don't have a food processor but only a blender, so making hummus gets a little messy. That's all right. I'm on vacation.

I also want to get black beans and make some black bean patties with quinoa. Super protein punch!

I have watched all the seasons of The Good Wife on hulu and I'm up to the current season and that's not on hulu but is on CBS online. It is a legal beagle show, which I love. Legal shows, that is. I remember LA Law, back thirty years ago. It ran from 1986 to 1994. I think that was my first legal show. At least that's the one I remember first. I was fascinated. I have an unfulfilled, nebulous desire to go to law school. I considered it in 2000 but set the thought aside permanently. I'm not a lawyer but I watch them on TV. I was always sorry that the Law & Order spinoff "Trial By Jury" didn't get more traction.

The Good Wife is a good show and I love the legal maneuvering. It is a show that details the complexity of the law, the difficulty of being a nuanced human, and relationships both personal and professional. I don't know what I'll do when I finish binge watching it. LOL, likely find some movies.

OK, my soup is done and it looks tasty. I'll have a bowl with a roll I got at Bountiful Baskets. Till next time.

Chalk drawings

I walked outside the other day, to find lively and wonderful chalk drawings all over the driveway and granite picnic table. A 6-year old lives next door, and she had been busy! I really love to see things like this. The sun was making the pink, blue and white drawings come alive, the birds were singing, and the sun was bright. Ahhh, fall in Georgia.

View from my bedroom window through the lace sheer.