Sundays for me bring a mix of laziness and depression. Laziness, because we typically get the things that need to be done on Saturday leaving our Sundays pretty wide open, and depression because it's the end of the weekend and almost time for Monday.
One thing that helps us with the depression and also the laziness is cooking. We normally cook something every night for dinner, but our meals during the week tend to be quicker than our weekend meals. Stein and I tend to switch off who cooks, though we don't have a formal schedule, and we make things like pastas, tacos, salads, and stir frys. We don't tend to spend a lot of time thinking or creating the meals, and we have our go-to meals if we aren't feeling especially creative.
But on the weekends, and particularly on Sundays in the winter, our meals tend to be more labor intensive in the thinking, researching and creating aspects. Stein is the one who usually leads these efforts. There may be a roast slowly cooking in the oven, there may be ribs slowly smoking in the smoker, or there may be a stew or soup slowly simmering on the stove. The house is filled with smells that linger all afternoon as we finish up reading the paper, steal a nap or two, or get ready for the week ahead. The good thing about these Sunday meals is that there are usually leftovers. Which means that we don't have to think about cooking dinner until Tuesday, or possibly Wednesday.
Today's meal is lasagna. Yesterday it was 75 degrees, but today it is cloudy, grey, and cool. Perfect day for lasagna. Stein is using this recipe by Tyler Florence. He made this recipe before and we really liked it (I may have blogged about it before, I don't know). Just a warning, though: this recipe is not a traditional lasagna recipe. Also, this recipe makes enough for 2 pans of lasagna. You can always freeze one and have it later, but if you don't want to do that, you can obviously cut it in half. The other warning is to read over the part where he talks about putting it together. He flips back and forth calling the filling "sauce" then "meat filling" and it gets a bit confusing. We have found that layering it like a regular lasagna works best.
It smells incredible already, and it's not even in the oven yet. The combination of browned meat, herbs, tomatoes, and noodles is making my mouth water. If I think about it, I'll take some pictures when it comes out of the oven. But I may be too hungry to take the time.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
Reusin' & Recyclin'
Every year when I buy the starter plants for things like tomatoes and herbs, I'm amazed by the price of these things. I thought maybe this year I would try it on my own. So I bought some seeds yesterday, and needed to get them in some dirt. I didn't want to buy plastic containers, and I didn't want to invest in containers that would sit around if I decided not to do this project again. So I turned to the internet to see if I could use something I already had on hand. It turns out, that the answer was newspaper! There were a lot of how-to videos and articles on the subject. This one was the clearest I found. So I got to work and made four of them. I only did four so I could test them and see if they work, and then plant the rest of the seeds I bought. Plus, four of them fit nicely in the english muffin container lined with some plastic.
This project was the thing I needed (or didn't need) when I had some work to do for an online class I'm taking. (If you didn't know, I'm kind of a procrastinator.) It didn't take that much time, though, so I eventually had to get back to the classwork. I'll keep you posted on how everything is growing.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Kids' Play
Yesterday I sat for Eric and Mia, and when all of the plans I had in my head were pretty much thrown out the window, I looked around to create plan B. Games! I love board games, and I think that they are great for kids and adults. I used to have lengthy conversations on the topic with my cooperating teacher. She and I both agreed that kids need to play more board games and card games. It not only helps with learning things like counting, money, and math, it also helps with learning things like taking turns, honesty, and winning or losing gracefully.
Mia suggested Sorry!. (Bear with me as you read this, since Sorry! does have an exclamation point in its name). I was not going to say no, since Sorry! is one of my favorite games. It was the Madagascar version, but that didn't matter. The same rules applied, or so I thought until the game started.
Before I go any further, I have to tell you a bit of my Sorry! background. You see, my family played Sorry! a lot. I don't doubt that this all came from my grandpa, a man who loved his games of Sorry! almost as much as his cup of chocolate-covered raisins each night. When we would go over to his house, the card table would often times already be set up. He would set it directly in front of his recliner which faced the TV. So while 60 minutes or an evening game show would play in the background, we would all scoot our folding chairs around the table. We didn't argue with any of this set-up. We learned early that there was no arguing with this man and his Sorry! game. He knew the game well. In fact, he could tell you where to move your marker anywhere on the board from any place, regardless of what number you drew. He never counted out spaces on the board, as I laboriously did. His marker would just move from one space to another. He also had to wear a "rubber fingertip" on his index finger, so that he could grip the cards when he picked them up. The cards got worn in one spot from that constant rubbing. This was serious Sorry! playing.
So yesterday, when we started playing, I had my game on. I knew Sorry! well. Not like my grandpa knew it, but enough to know the rules. As we went on with the game, Mia informed me of some of her rules. When I questioned her, she would say to Eric, "Right Eric? That's how we play it?" And Eric would say yes, or come over if he felt extra reinforcement was needed. I started to get mad, because some of the rules being broken were what makes the game of Sorry! challenging. And then I thought to myself, Kelly, you are 30 something years older than her. Chill. It's just a game. The rules really don't matter much. You're playing a game, taking turns, counting, and not watching TV. All is good. And it was.
Until she won. What was that about losing gracefully?
Mia suggested Sorry!. (Bear with me as you read this, since Sorry! does have an exclamation point in its name). I was not going to say no, since Sorry! is one of my favorite games. It was the Madagascar version, but that didn't matter. The same rules applied, or so I thought until the game started.
Before I go any further, I have to tell you a bit of my Sorry! background. You see, my family played Sorry! a lot. I don't doubt that this all came from my grandpa, a man who loved his games of Sorry! almost as much as his cup of chocolate-covered raisins each night. When we would go over to his house, the card table would often times already be set up. He would set it directly in front of his recliner which faced the TV. So while 60 minutes or an evening game show would play in the background, we would all scoot our folding chairs around the table. We didn't argue with any of this set-up. We learned early that there was no arguing with this man and his Sorry! game. He knew the game well. In fact, he could tell you where to move your marker anywhere on the board from any place, regardless of what number you drew. He never counted out spaces on the board, as I laboriously did. His marker would just move from one space to another. He also had to wear a "rubber fingertip" on his index finger, so that he could grip the cards when he picked them up. The cards got worn in one spot from that constant rubbing. This was serious Sorry! playing.
So yesterday, when we started playing, I had my game on. I knew Sorry! well. Not like my grandpa knew it, but enough to know the rules. As we went on with the game, Mia informed me of some of her rules. When I questioned her, she would say to Eric, "Right Eric? That's how we play it?" And Eric would say yes, or come over if he felt extra reinforcement was needed. I started to get mad, because some of the rules being broken were what makes the game of Sorry! challenging. And then I thought to myself, Kelly, you are 30 something years older than her. Chill. It's just a game. The rules really don't matter much. You're playing a game, taking turns, counting, and not watching TV. All is good. And it was.
Until she won. What was that about losing gracefully?
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Going Again
We're off to Chicago today. We're going for the main purpose of Cubs opening day on Monday, but we'll also get so see some friends along the way. I'm going to brunch with Chris' family tomorrow for Easter, and Stein will be going to the Blackhawks/Red Wings game. Then Monday Chris and I will practice our now 12-year-old or so tradition of going to Yaksie's at 6 am for WXRT's opening day broadcast. Friends will come and go to visit throughout the day. Chris and I will head to the game in the afternoon (and according to the forecast, freeze our butts off).
Stein asked me the other day if I thought the Easter Bunny would find me in Chicago. Without blinking an eye, I said, "Oh yes, he will. He always knows where I am."
Have a great weekend, everyone! Enjoy your celebrations.
Stein asked me the other day if I thought the Easter Bunny would find me in Chicago. Without blinking an eye, I said, "Oh yes, he will. He always knows where I am."
Have a great weekend, everyone! Enjoy your celebrations.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
When Did This All Happen?
I stole this article from my friend Lisa of Lather, Rinse, and Repeat. Not only did it catch my eye because I too was a girl who collected stickers and loved the puffy ones, but also because I see this sad state of affairs with the kids I teach. I know our school is not isolated in this either. I hear this from parents all of the time. Their kids just have too much stuff.
As I recall, I lived for the days that my school papers were returned to me with stickers. Then I would carefully peel the sticker off, and place it into my sticker album where it would be admired by my friends and me. Yes, I had a sticker album. And maybe still do, if I look deep enough in some boxes in the basement.
At the risk of sounding like an old woman, I feel like we cherished our toys a lot more than kids do today. On Christmas we received what we thought was an abundance of toys - 4-5 things, plus our stocking stuffers. Those toys lasted until our birthday, when we would receive 4-5 more things. If a new toy came out, and we had to wait a long time until Christmas or our birthday, we hoped that one of our neighbors would get it so that we could play with it. Sure, we shouted and argued every time a commercial came on with something we just had to have, but my mom always made the smart decision to ignore us.
At school, I have a prize chest for one of the classes. This was the only thing that worked at the start of school when I was trying to gain control of this naughty class. In the prize chest are all kinds of pencils, pens, erasers, and gel pens in all kinds of colors and designs. In my mind, this is the perfect prize chest. If one of my teachers presented this to me in second grade, I would've thought that I just got the last golden ticket into the school supply factory. (Granted, I am a supply freak, you know this already.)
But the reaction that I get from these kids is disconcerting. They already have a sense of entitlement. In second grade. When they qualify for a prize, they pull something out of the chest, turn around without saying anything, and go on their merry way. The prize is usually left on a random library shelf or beside a computer in the lab. It just isn't important to them in their worlds filled with the clutter of so many toys.
What ever happened to crafts made out of recycled bits of stuff around the house? Why do we feel the need to fill our kids' lives with more clutter? And when did this sense of entitlement creep into the minds of kids? Where did thank yous go?
Raise the Price of Toys
Pamela Paul, Huffington Post 2008-04-30
If you’re a woman of a certain age — not that old actually — in your thirties, you’ll remember the puffy sticker. You will remember, as I do, those moments during school recess when you and your fellow second-graders took out your sticker albums to show off and trade goods. And you will remember the supreme worth of the puffy sticker — held in esteem above all other stickers — glitter, fuzzy, even those shiny, almost vinyl-like stickers you’d get in the 25 cent gumball machine, often emblazoned with “Grease” or “AC/DC.” The glory of the puffy Hello Kitty!
You’ll remember the days when it was a huge deal to buy a new sticker at the stationary store. How the sales person had to be summoned to cut off a purchased sticker from one of the display rolls so that you could take home your prize. Stickers back then cost a dime or a quarter, no small sum, especially if like me, your allowance was 10 cents a week. (Yes, I’m in my thirties — not my sixties!) Children once “made do” with allowances of less than a dollar.
And so, like me, you were probably initially thrilled when you saw how the price of a sticker has plummeted since our days of deprivation. Today, a mega made-in-China book of stickers sells for $6.99 at the local CVS and comes packed with over 100 pages of glossy stickers. 700 in all! as the cover burst blares. Naturally, I scooped one up for my then three-year-old daughter.
But here’s what happened. Beatrice had too many stickers. WAY too many stickers. She had so many stickers she didn’t know what to do. Rather than care for and treasure them the way I did , she wantonly stuck them on shoes, jeans, furniture, walls and the stroller. She stuck them on me and on her baby brother. The end result is that she couldn’t care less about stickers. They are meaningless.
In our abundance, something has been lost.
The average child in America gets seventy new toys a year, and the United States, with 4 percent of the world’s children, consumes 40 percent of the world’s toys. This is doing our children no good. Rather than bulldozing their way through dozens of one-note, breakable, and possibly harmful toys, children benefit from repetitive use of old favorites, finding new ways to play with them as their minds mature and expand.
So many of us lament the fact that elementary, high school and even college students today seem creatively bankrupt, bereft of problem-solving skills, and completely lacking resourcefulness. Is it any surprise when we cater to them from infancy with a barrage of cheap toys. That they treat their playthings carelessly, fail to value material goods, and become indifferent to waste? And that they then complain of boredom as they get older?
Kids would be a lot better off getting five new toys a year and playing with them 50 different ways. The best toys, after all, are the ones that look most “boring” from the outside. A good rule of thumb is that toys should be 10% toy, 90% child. It’s what a child puts into a toy that counts. Take plain wooden blocks. At two months, a baby chews on the block and learns what wood tastes and feels like. At six months, he learns to throw the block and at ten months, he bangs them together. By age four, he is building castles and bridges.
Toys are so cheap that it’s hard to rationalize not buying them. But perhaps we need to raise the price of toys so that parents and children learn to value them again.
In the meantime, get rid of the toys — or better yet, give them away. Cut down on the useless child rearing paraphernalia. You’ll be giving your child a lot more.
As I recall, I lived for the days that my school papers were returned to me with stickers. Then I would carefully peel the sticker off, and place it into my sticker album where it would be admired by my friends and me. Yes, I had a sticker album. And maybe still do, if I look deep enough in some boxes in the basement.
At the risk of sounding like an old woman, I feel like we cherished our toys a lot more than kids do today. On Christmas we received what we thought was an abundance of toys - 4-5 things, plus our stocking stuffers. Those toys lasted until our birthday, when we would receive 4-5 more things. If a new toy came out, and we had to wait a long time until Christmas or our birthday, we hoped that one of our neighbors would get it so that we could play with it. Sure, we shouted and argued every time a commercial came on with something we just had to have, but my mom always made the smart decision to ignore us.
At school, I have a prize chest for one of the classes. This was the only thing that worked at the start of school when I was trying to gain control of this naughty class. In the prize chest are all kinds of pencils, pens, erasers, and gel pens in all kinds of colors and designs. In my mind, this is the perfect prize chest. If one of my teachers presented this to me in second grade, I would've thought that I just got the last golden ticket into the school supply factory. (Granted, I am a supply freak, you know this already.)
But the reaction that I get from these kids is disconcerting. They already have a sense of entitlement. In second grade. When they qualify for a prize, they pull something out of the chest, turn around without saying anything, and go on their merry way. The prize is usually left on a random library shelf or beside a computer in the lab. It just isn't important to them in their worlds filled with the clutter of so many toys.
What ever happened to crafts made out of recycled bits of stuff around the house? Why do we feel the need to fill our kids' lives with more clutter? And when did this sense of entitlement creep into the minds of kids? Where did thank yous go?
Raise the Price of Toys
Pamela Paul, Huffington Post 2008-04-30
If you’re a woman of a certain age — not that old actually — in your thirties, you’ll remember the puffy sticker. You will remember, as I do, those moments during school recess when you and your fellow second-graders took out your sticker albums to show off and trade goods. And you will remember the supreme worth of the puffy sticker — held in esteem above all other stickers — glitter, fuzzy, even those shiny, almost vinyl-like stickers you’d get in the 25 cent gumball machine, often emblazoned with “Grease” or “AC/DC.” The glory of the puffy Hello Kitty!
You’ll remember the days when it was a huge deal to buy a new sticker at the stationary store. How the sales person had to be summoned to cut off a purchased sticker from one of the display rolls so that you could take home your prize. Stickers back then cost a dime or a quarter, no small sum, especially if like me, your allowance was 10 cents a week. (Yes, I’m in my thirties — not my sixties!) Children once “made do” with allowances of less than a dollar.
And so, like me, you were probably initially thrilled when you saw how the price of a sticker has plummeted since our days of deprivation. Today, a mega made-in-China book of stickers sells for $6.99 at the local CVS and comes packed with over 100 pages of glossy stickers. 700 in all! as the cover burst blares. Naturally, I scooped one up for my then three-year-old daughter.
But here’s what happened. Beatrice had too many stickers. WAY too many stickers. She had so many stickers she didn’t know what to do. Rather than care for and treasure them the way I did , she wantonly stuck them on shoes, jeans, furniture, walls and the stroller. She stuck them on me and on her baby brother. The end result is that she couldn’t care less about stickers. They are meaningless.
In our abundance, something has been lost.
The average child in America gets seventy new toys a year, and the United States, with 4 percent of the world’s children, consumes 40 percent of the world’s toys. This is doing our children no good. Rather than bulldozing their way through dozens of one-note, breakable, and possibly harmful toys, children benefit from repetitive use of old favorites, finding new ways to play with them as their minds mature and expand.
So many of us lament the fact that elementary, high school and even college students today seem creatively bankrupt, bereft of problem-solving skills, and completely lacking resourcefulness. Is it any surprise when we cater to them from infancy with a barrage of cheap toys. That they treat their playthings carelessly, fail to value material goods, and become indifferent to waste? And that they then complain of boredom as they get older?
Kids would be a lot better off getting five new toys a year and playing with them 50 different ways. The best toys, after all, are the ones that look most “boring” from the outside. A good rule of thumb is that toys should be 10% toy, 90% child. It’s what a child puts into a toy that counts. Take plain wooden blocks. At two months, a baby chews on the block and learns what wood tastes and feels like. At six months, he learns to throw the block and at ten months, he bangs them together. By age four, he is building castles and bridges.
Toys are so cheap that it’s hard to rationalize not buying them. But perhaps we need to raise the price of toys so that parents and children learn to value them again.
In the meantime, get rid of the toys — or better yet, give them away. Cut down on the useless child rearing paraphernalia. You’ll be giving your child a lot more.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Oh, the Humanity
I was off last week as part of the many days that I have to take off. I did have to attend a computer training class last Friday, and my friends Matt and Mandi were there. Mandi spends some of her time in the office, so I asked her how the week of subs was going. I knew that the bulk of the days would be fine, since the long-term sub from last year was there, but I wondered about the other days. When I asked, she immediately said, "Well, I took the sub that was there on Monday off the sub list."
Now, let me explain. In order to be taken off the sub list, you really have to mess up. You make an off-handed remark to a student, you're off the list. You have no class management and require the principal to come in, you're off the list. Show up 5 minutes before the bell rings? Yep, you're off the list.
So I knew that what the sub did or did not do was pretty bad. Mandi went on to explain. First, she did not know how to turn on the computer. I agree, sometimes Macs can be a little tricky in how they're set-up, but I specifically spell out in my sub plans how to turn on the computer. As in, "When you're facing the computer, the power button is on the left side of the base". Mandi let her slide on that one, but the next series of events was unbelievable.
Apparently the former long-term sub was also subbing in another class in the building, so she came in to the library to ask the "new" sub if she had any questions. Here's how the conversation went:
Former Long-Term Sub (FLTS): Just checking in to see if you had any questions.
"New" Sub (NS): Uh, yes, I did. These books that need to be shelved - do they go in a particular place on the shelf?
FLTS: Yes, you see the spine of the book? There are letters and numbers on there that correspond with the specific location in the library.
NS: Oh. So these fiction books - they can go anywhere in the fiction section?
FLTS: No. There is one place and one place only for each book.
NS: Hmm.
FLTS: If you have any questions, you can just leave them here and I will shelf them tomorrow when I'm subbing.
Are you kidding me? Has this woman ever been in a library? Did she seriously think that all of the books are randomly put on the shelves? If so, do we spend hours looking for books anywhere in the library? I am still dumbfounded by this whole thing.
I get a little miffed when books are somewhat out of order (numerical or alphabetical) in a small section. I couldn't imagine the frustration that I would feel in a whole library that was mis-shelved.
What would Dewey say? Oh, I think he would take her off the list too.
Now, let me explain. In order to be taken off the sub list, you really have to mess up. You make an off-handed remark to a student, you're off the list. You have no class management and require the principal to come in, you're off the list. Show up 5 minutes before the bell rings? Yep, you're off the list.
So I knew that what the sub did or did not do was pretty bad. Mandi went on to explain. First, she did not know how to turn on the computer. I agree, sometimes Macs can be a little tricky in how they're set-up, but I specifically spell out in my sub plans how to turn on the computer. As in, "When you're facing the computer, the power button is on the left side of the base". Mandi let her slide on that one, but the next series of events was unbelievable.
Apparently the former long-term sub was also subbing in another class in the building, so she came in to the library to ask the "new" sub if she had any questions. Here's how the conversation went:
Former Long-Term Sub (FLTS): Just checking in to see if you had any questions.
"New" Sub (NS): Uh, yes, I did. These books that need to be shelved - do they go in a particular place on the shelf?
FLTS: Yes, you see the spine of the book? There are letters and numbers on there that correspond with the specific location in the library.
NS: Oh. So these fiction books - they can go anywhere in the fiction section?
FLTS: No. There is one place and one place only for each book.
NS: Hmm.
FLTS: If you have any questions, you can just leave them here and I will shelf them tomorrow when I'm subbing.
Are you kidding me? Has this woman ever been in a library? Did she seriously think that all of the books are randomly put on the shelves? If so, do we spend hours looking for books anywhere in the library? I am still dumbfounded by this whole thing.
I get a little miffed when books are somewhat out of order (numerical or alphabetical) in a small section. I couldn't imagine the frustration that I would feel in a whole library that was mis-shelved.
What would Dewey say? Oh, I think he would take her off the list too.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
New Links
You may have noticed some new blog links on the right side. I'm excited to introduce you to Lather, Rinse, and Repeat, Mustache Robots, and What's Cooking?
Lather, Rinse, and Repeat is written by my friend Lisa who also went to Marquette. In fact, Lisa and I lived on the same floor freshman year. We lost touch after college, but through the power of Facebook, we're back in touch. Lisa has two kids and is about to move cross-country.
There's kind of the same background story for Mustache Robots. This blog is written by my friend Jeff who is another Marquette alum. Jeff didn't live on our floor freshman year (we lived in an all-girls dorm), but we did have a lot of friends in common. I have also been back in touch with him through Facebook. Jeff has two boys and some of his stories are classics.
My friend Kris, the author of What's Cooking? is a friend of mine from Einstein's. Kris was one of the first people I met when I started working for the company, and we have been on many adventures together. Some places for these adventures? Breckenridge, CO, Scottsdale, AZ, and Milwaukee, WI. Kris' blog is a cooking blog, so of course it's one I admire. She lives in Napa with her daughter and husband.
Lather, Rinse, and Repeat is written by my friend Lisa who also went to Marquette. In fact, Lisa and I lived on the same floor freshman year. We lost touch after college, but through the power of Facebook, we're back in touch. Lisa has two kids and is about to move cross-country.
There's kind of the same background story for Mustache Robots. This blog is written by my friend Jeff who is another Marquette alum. Jeff didn't live on our floor freshman year (we lived in an all-girls dorm), but we did have a lot of friends in common. I have also been back in touch with him through Facebook. Jeff has two boys and some of his stories are classics.
My friend Kris, the author of What's Cooking? is a friend of mine from Einstein's. Kris was one of the first people I met when I started working for the company, and we have been on many adventures together. Some places for these adventures? Breckenridge, CO, Scottsdale, AZ, and Milwaukee, WI. Kris' blog is a cooking blog, so of course it's one I admire. She lives in Napa with her daughter and husband.
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