A Trip to the Farmer's Market

Some of the goodies we picked up at the market this week. We went with Linda and wandered around a bit. The place was packed. But there was such a buzz there, people so excited to see all the vegetables and breads and fruits waiting to be bought.

Sometimes by the middle of the summer, there is an overabundance of stuff and it becomes a bit overwhelming. Then in the fall I think people start to get a bit depressed because they know that winter is coming and all that will be available are root vegetables. I know I get depressed then. But let's not think of that, okay? Let's hold onto this time of new stuff, colorful fruits, and the green all around.

Fringe Benefits

Every so often I get gifts from the kids at school. They're mainly pictures that they've colored, or random cupcakes or cookies that a birthday boy or girl may bring to me. Since I don't have my own classroom, I haven't built huge bonds with most of the kids I see. I don't see them enough times during the week to do this.

Last week the gift in the picture above was delivered to me in the morning. By the mom. She works at the school in the morning and at lunchtime, so I see her around school a couple times each day. I don't know her name, and I don't think she knows mine, but we exchange good mornings and hellos when we see each other. Her daughters are two of my favorite students, and it's obvious that they come from a great family with good values.

This particular morning the mom walked into the library carrying something wrapped in tin foil and then a Wal-Mart bag. As she walked toward me, she kind of lifted the package up, and said, "This is for you". "Wow," I said, "What is it?" She simply said, "Bread". When she handed the package to me, it was still warm on the bottom. I asked her what time she got up that morning to bake it. "Eh," she said as she shrugged her shoulders, "About 4 or 5". What a gift. This woman baked bread from scratch, before school, so she could deliver it to me. A woman who doesn't even know my name. I'm now ashamed to say that I don't know hers.

I asked her 4th grade daughter what she usually eats with the bread. "I eat it in the morning for breakfast with tea and a little milk," she said with a smile. She knows it's a good thing.

I took the picture above with the knife in the picture to give you an idea of how big this loaf of bread is. I ended up cutting it in half and freezing half. The other half I have been noshing on, and also used it to scoop up some spinach dip (it reminds me a bit of Hawaiian bread). What a special treat. I definitely felt special receiving it.

Where Ya Been?

Yeah, yeah, I know, haven't posted for almost a week. It's writer's block, or something like that. More like summer is here and I can't get enough of it. Stein tried to burst my giddy summer bubble last night by having me think about winter, but I told him to let me be. I am living in the moment. Taking it all in. That's what summer is for, right?

We had an awesome Memorial Day weekend. The weather was gorgeous all weekend, so we were able to plant flowers, go to a Tigers game, take a hike, eat outside, have people over for a cook-out, and break in the hammock. All summer stuff. Nice.

Right now I'm waiting for Linda to come from Chicago. It was a last-minute decision for her to visit, but I'm so glad. The weather is cool and gloomy right now, but tomorrow's forecast promises sun and warmer temperatures. I see some walking and eating outside in our future. Can't wait to just hang out and laugh.

I have some blog posts in my head for future days, but right now I don't want to spend much time inside at the computer. I'll be here, but a little less than usual.

Hope you're enjoying your summer wherever you are!

On Becoming a Pretzel

A couple years ago Stein and I took yoga. We were good for about a year or two, taking session after session of Yoga I. It was a great class, and it did all the good things that yoga is supposed to do - made us more flexible, more relaxed, and able to brag that we were able to do a shoulder stand (with a wall nearby, of course). We were regulars with the teacher we had, as were about five other people who were too scared or lazy to move on to level I-II, or level II.

Fast forward to about a month ago. I took a walk with my sister-in-law Anne one morning, and she told me that I needed to join the yoga I-II class that she had been taking. "It's a really good class," she went on to say, "And occasionally we go out for a beer afterward." It wasn't the promise that it was going to be a good class, it was the promise of the beer that got me to sign up.

The first week, I was reminded of just how long it had been since my last yoga class. I was also reminded that it has been a long while since I worked out in general. But I went with it, and stretched my body in ways that I didn't think was possible. We did things in that first class that Stein and I didn't master until the end of the sessions in Yoga I. I felt the effects on my body the next day - I could barely walk down the stairs!

The second week, Anne couldn't go, so I braved the class alone. And what a class it was. The teacher continued to have us do harder poses that I remembered from Yoga I. My confidence was building as we twisted and stretched, even though she corrected me a lot. I thought, look at me, in a Yoga I-II class! I can do all of this stuff. And I haven't pulled a muscle!

About 20 minutes before the end of the class, the teacher announced that we would be doing shoulder stands. Seriously? I thought. The second class in the session and we're doing shoulder stands? I gave it a try. I started remembering how to do it. But I didn't remember everything. The teacher had to help. A lot. My legs flailed in the air like some sort of upside-down chicken, fighting for her life. The teacher wrangled my legs, and stood them upright. It didn't take long for them to start falling, and the flailing would begin again. What a rookie.

I must be a glutton for punishment, because I went again last night. Same scenario: Anne wasn't there, and 20 minutes before the end of the class, the teacher announced we were going to do shoulder stands. I was ready for it. But it had a twist (so to speak). We did them against the wall with our heads close to the wall. As if a repeat of the last class was cued, the flailing began. This time, I could barely get my legs up in the air. My teacher grabbed my legs, and tried to help me get them up onto the wall. The pressure of the wall on my head must have cut off some of my brain cells, because at one point, the teacher was saying, "Bend your legs!" and I straightened my legs like a world-class gymnast. She must have repeated, "Bend your legs!" about three more times, when something in my brain fired and I understood what she was saying. I bent my legs.

Today, I can get down the stairs, and besides a sore head, I'm pretty good. I'm hoping that as the session goes on I will become as flexible and relaxed as I had been before. Just don't ask me to do a shoulder stand.

Asparagus Recipe

You're going to make me eat my words, aren't you? Just when I told you in the last post that I liked my asparagus pretty plain, I found this recipe. Stein and I wanted something a little different than plain asparagus to go with the marinated beef skewers ( I wrote about them here) we grilled.


Don't get me wrong, I normally like my asparagus cooked just right with a litle olive oil and minimal seasoning, but this was so good. The combination of the salty bacon with the creamy goat cheese was outstanding. I could've ate that part on its own, with a spoon.

Asparagus

Asparagus is in season. At least in season in the grocery store, so that's good enough for me. Another sign of spring. Another green thing that has come to us. Spring is definitely in full bloom around here, with everything green and flowery and lush.

Stein and I love asparagus. I think our love for the vegetable deepened when we were in Spain five years ago. We went in late April, and everyone we talked to before our trip talked about asparagus. I kept thinking, in a country of wine and olives and tapas, what's the big deal about asparagus? It didn't take long before I learned about asparagus, Spanish style. And oh mama, was it good.

I can't even tell you how they cook it. (I'm sure if I scoured the internet about it, I could find out, but I'm not doing that right now). It was a combination of frying and grilling, with olive oil and garlic. After tasting it for the first time, Stein and I craved it at every meal.

One meal we had will stand out to us forever, I think. It was about five days into our trip, and we were accustomed to the local way of doing things. We ate a small breakfast, and then a big late lunch, took a siesta (my favorite part), and then ate tapas for dinner, at what would be my normal bedtime. The weather was cool in the morning, but by late afternoon, the squares around the city would be full of people sitting at outdoor cafes sipping wines and eating olives.

On this particular day, we sat at a cafe in Madrid's largest square and ordered some paella. The waiter explained to us through a conversation in my broken Spanish and his broken English, that it would be a while until the paella was ready. No problem, we said, just bring us some wine and some asparagus. One taste of that asparagus, and we didn't even care about the paella. We could've made a meal of just asparagus (and wine, of course). We lingered at that cafe for hours. We even had sunburn on one side of our faces to prove it. Nothing like being in a foreign country, sitting in a cafe, watching the people and day go by. And eating Spanish style asparagus. Man, was that good.

Now when we make it, we usually don't get too fancy with it. Sometimes we steam it, but mostly we rub it with a lot of olive oil and grill it or cook it in a big pan. The picture above is from last week when Stein cooked it on the stove in the cast iron pan. He also sprinkled a little garlic salt on it for a little flavor.

Welcome asparagus, we're glad you're here with us again.

Reading Against Time

I'm in a dilemma right now. I think I told you that I've had a little A.D.D. when it comes to reading lately (well, the past year or so)? I mean, I don't have an attention span to read more than a magazine article at one sitting. Not a good thing to say when you're trying to get kids to read on a regular basis!

You remember that I cruised through Twilight, just like everyone else who read it did, and even got through the second one. But I'm still in the first couple chapters of the third book with the fourth one waiting after that. (And it doesn't help that there's a fifth-grade Twilight maniac at school who bugs me about this fact about every other day.)

I did manage to read a book last week that was recommended to me by another teacher. The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane by Kate DiCamillo (author of Because of Winn Dixie and Tale of Desperaux) is a great book. It was nice because it's a kid's book and a light read, but had a powerful message. The style in which it's written is pretty unique too. It was short enough to hold my straying attention, but long enough to make me feel good about reading a complete book.

In the meantime, I am running out of time on two other books that I've started but have yet to finish. I've told you before that I ran out of steam after getting through the first five Harry Potter books. Well, the steam hasn't come back, and now the movie based on the sixth book is due out in July. Will I be able to get through this book before then?

Not before I read Angels and Demons. For that book, I only have about a week until the movie comes to theatres. Stein read the book years ago and is chomping at the bit to see the movie when it comes out. Oh, the pressure.