Nobody Asked Me

I am happy, content, so glad it is my Friday (and no, not rubbing that in, I am just utterly exhausted), excited about the prospect of my future, excited about my foot massage on Saturday, loving the two books I am listening too, grateful for work to do today but not so much that I feel pressed, excited about my YUMMY salad today, happy that I might see my son tomorrow, thrilled I have lost 3 pounds since last Monday. All in all, I feel pretty dang good! I wrote this in answer to an inquiry from a friend and saved it in case anybody else asked me how I am. Nobody asked me how I am.

Eugenia Zukerman, Flute with the Jacques Thibaud String Trio

The Jacques Thibaud String Trio

Last night I had my first experience at the American Theater in Hampton.  The theater itself is beautiful and old.  The turnout was disappointing pathetic.  Fill-a-seat Hampton Roads even gave away tickets and I doubt that half the theater was filled.  It makes me sigh at how the Cultural Arts are dwindling.  Or are they?  Well, this is not a post about that so let's move on.

We went to see the above mentioned concert.  Let me preface by saying I am not a big "flute" fan.  Perhaps it is because I used to play it (elementary through middle school).  I don't know why but I used to be embarrassed by the blowing into the mouthpiece.  Also, no guys played the flute (meet Miss Tomboy) and so the flute represented every thing I despised: frills, femininity, awkwardness, and the color pink (I am unsure why the color pink fits in here but when I think flute, pink is its aura).  I disliked its high pitched timbre also.  As part of the symphony, I do believe the flute is as integral and necessary as the french horn, the bass, and the percussion section but on its own?  Well, it's just not my cup of tea but it came up as one of our free events on fill-a-seat and we were available.  So we went.

Eugenia Zukerman, Flute

Eugenia Zukerman is just a wisp of a thing.  It was hard to imagine she had enough wind to propel through her instrument but she did it and she did it beautifully.  I did not rush home to find all things "flute soloist" via Google, but I did gain an appreciation for the sound of the instrument.  In part, I give credit to the back-up trio.  Is it fair to call the Jacques Thibaud String Trio backup.  Probably not.  They carried the concert performing as a trio and as accompaniment to her.

This Jacques Thibaud String Trio (I say this because I am unsure this is the original trio or the only trio as evidenced by the images on Google) consists of Burkhard Maiss (Berlin), Violin, Hannah Stribos (Amsterdam), Viola, and Bogdan Jianu (Romania), Cello.

I noticed some things about the Berliner.  (1) He has this  fantastically curly hair (as you can see in the image above).  His hair was messy and disheveled yet not.  That sentence is reminiscent of how he described the piece the trio did by Jean Francaix, String Trio.  He said it is funny yet not, not quite tonal but not atonal either.  Yes, that is how his hair was.  I am embarrassed to admit I spent a bit of time wondering how he got his hair to look that way. (2)  He wore a wedding band (neither of the others did).  This, in itself, is nothing but it set me to thinking of his spouse.  Was she in Berlin alone, waiting for his return?  Does she have any idea what his life is like while he is away?  Do they talk every night?  At the time I was having this thought it was 9 p.m. our time which I believe is 3 a.m. Berlin time.  Was she resting peacefully?  Such strange musings during such a lovely concert.

What did I noticed about the Trio?  They watched each other constantly, looking for clues as to when to enter the piece, the tempo, the intensity.  They smiled during the piece by Jean Francaix, even chuckling.  The song did make me smile and really, would you have thought classical music could have a sense of humor?  Their faces reflected the mood of the music: stern, intense, romantic, silly.  Their instruments were used, weathered, dented, scarred, battered which was in stark contrast to Ms. Zukerman's flute which was blindingly brilliant.  It was evident to me, all three love their craft.

The evening held:  Franz Shubert - Flute Quartet in G Minor; Ludwig Van Beethoven - String Trio in C Minor, Opus 9 No. 3; Jean Francaix - String Trio; Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach - Duo For Flute and Violin; Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Flute Quartet in D Major.  Their encore was by Johann Sebastian Bach, Air On A G-string.  Enjoy it below:

The 15 Point Buck

Bartimaeus.  He loves his sticks.  He loves to bring his sticks into the house.  And make big messes.  I do not understand my pup's love of sticks!

Fall

A short walk around Oak Grove Community Lake yesterday morning has convinced me that Fall is on its way! The air is still muggy and a bit oppressive but it is cooler, just the faintest bit cooler. In the trees lining our sliver of the marsh I also spotted red leaves, surely an undisputed sign of Fall!
I wait with certainty. Soon. Very soon.

Stacked Cauliflower Enchilada with Green Chile Sauce

Photo by: http://iwillrunforfood.tumblr.com/

I am a vegetarian; however, the rest of my clan are meat-eaters.  I have adopted a new tradition in my household: Meatless Monday on Wednesday.  Once upon a time, in the not so distant past, I didn't believe I could survive a day or enjoy a meal that did not include meat.  Certain folks in my household feel the same way so I pride myself on finding recipes that all the nay-sayers find irresistible.  Stacked Cauliflower Enchilada with Green Chile Sauce (pictured to the left) from the Gourmet Vegetarian Slow Cooker Cookbook was one of those meals.  It was spicy, cheesy, and the cauliflower was cooked to tender perfection.  There were no leftovers.  This is a meal I will make again.



Bartimaeus discovered the marsh today...at low tide. All the dirt on the towel came off his front feet only which led us to believe only a bath would do.

My puppy is a lover of Zen.  He believes in destinationless walking, idleness, and loves to stop often to smell...er...eat the flowers.

Wicked

On Sunday, March 25, 2012 my mother, Mitch and I attended Wicked at the Chrysler Hall.  What a wonderful and entertaining musical.  It is the story of Glinda the Good and the Wicked Witch of the West before the Wizard of Oz happened.  Our little green witch is portrayed as misunderstood and victimized, set up and betrayed.  It was a good twist and had a happy ending.

Five Women Wearing the Same Dress

Saturday, March 24, 2012, Mitch and I attended Little Theater of Norfolk's production of Five Women Wearing the Same Dress with his co-worker, Kristin, and her beau, Donnie. Prior to the show we dined at Orapax. Orapax does not have a very vegetarian friendly menu; however, I do adore their Zorba's pizza. I get the 6" which is the perfect size for me. Of course, our meal is always accompanied by a pitcher of Killian's Red.


Regarding the play, I took this from Little Theater of Norfolk's website: "During an ostentatious wedding reception at a Knoxville, Tennessee, estate, five reluctant, identically clad bridesmaids hide out in an upstairs bedroom, each with her own reason to avoid the proceedings below. They are Frances, a painfully sweet but sheltered fundamentalist; Mindy, the cheerful, wise-cracking lesbian sister of the groom; Georgeanne, whose heartbreak over her own failed marriage triggers outrageous behavior; Meredith, the bride's younger sister whose precocious rebelliousness masks a dark secret; and Trisha, a jaded beauty whose die-hard cynicism about men is called into question when she meets Tripp, a charming bad-boy usher to whom there is more than meets the eye. As the afternoon wears on, these five very different women joyously discover a common bond in this wickedly funny, irreverent and touching celebration of the women's spirit."

I enjoyed the play but found it dragged a wee bit once they introduced the bad-boy Tripp into the mix.

St. Patty's Day Excitement!

Mitch and I attended a St. Patty's Day get together at my dearest friend, Jennifer's, fine home. She had food galore; deviled eggs, pulled pork, chicken wings, and a slew of other delicious yummies that I couldn't partake in, being vegetarian and all. She is baking more of something loaded with much fat and yumminess and it splashed in the oven. I say, "Jen, your oven is on fire." She replies, "No, it's not." I stare at the flames and think (through my Jungle Juice buzz), "that looks like a fire to me." I say, "Yeah, it is." She finally turns around and sees that yes, there truly is a fire starting to rage in her oven. Her niece, little Sadie who is 5 or so, says to her mother, "Is that how we cook in the oven?" Jennifer calmly opens the oven, takes out the three large pans of goodies and says, "Hmmmm, I know it's not flour, or baking powder. Baking soda. Yes, baking soda." She only has a bit and it takes care of some flames but others quickly replace those squelched by the soda. We call on Buddy, her Uncle who was also a fireman at one time, who put the fire out without a thought. Later Jen says, "I am never going to live this down." Nope. I have now posted it on this blog for posterity's sake

Oak Grove Community Lake

Angie came over today and she and I took Bartimaeus for his first walk around Oak Grove Community Lake.  It is a mile and a half and my little trooper made it about one then he flopped over on his back and allowed, yes, I said ALLOWED me to carry him the rest of the way.  It was beautiful out, warm (probably close to 70 degrees) with just the right amount of breeze.  It was the perfect day.

One Pooped Pup

I don't have a picture of this actual event but the one here gives you a general idea of Bartimaeus' posture.  We walked Bartimaeus today after puppy obediance school which is filled with excitement and new smells and his best puppy buddy, Omar.  At the very last leg of our walk, in the middle of the street he flopped over on his back in complete surrender.  It was the funniest thing I have ever seen & I ended up carrying him home.

Spice Anyone?

FlyLady is helping me transform my home. In three fifteen minute periods, I purged all the expired spices, I combined all the duplicates I could, and I organized them alphabetically. I am overjoyed at the simplicity of finding what I need when I cook now!

Bits

This is my life, broken down into bits that I can finally manage to swallow.  I should have done this years ago but I didn't know how.

Crash Hatin'

Crash is completely convinced he will never love, like, tolerate the black scourge we have brought into his life.  He spends a lot of time on things, high things, but soon I am afraid little Bartimaeus will be able to mount these things.  What is a poor cat to do?

Barty & Muddie

It is not the best picture but you can get the gist.  Bart loves his Muddie Buddy.  BFFs forever!

New Year's Resolution

Well, here it is January 11th and I have broken many of my thought about (but not too seriously)resolutions.  I have not blogged everyday.  I have not written those long over due letters, nor have I sent out my Christmas cards...from 2011...yet.  I have not lost a pound.  I have not saved a cent.  I have not caught up on my email or my Facebook happenings.  I have not chosen a career, found my passion, saved the world, saved myself even.

I have done a couple of things I did not resolve to do.  I have kicked up my workout routine (yay me!).  I have made a menu every week for the last three weeks and have hired a friend to cook those meals for me once a week.  Clean eating, definitely the way to go.  I got a dog.  Well, I picked one out but he is too young to bring home yet.  January 25th is that big day.

 (Ain't he the cutest thing?)  We have dubbed said dog:  Bartimaeus the Black.  And even though we don't have possession of him he already has several nicknames: Barty, Bart, Black Bart and there are probably more that I don't remember.  I will always call him Bartimaeus.  I think the name fits.  I have found a couple of classes I would like to take at our local community college: web design and nutrition.  Maybe they will lead me toward a new direction in my life.  There has to be something I love to do, right?

As you can see it has been a busy eleven days, trying on the newest version of me.  You know, the one raring to go in 2012.  I am going to pass on the resolution making this time around.  Maybe next year.

Drama At Burn's Night

Last night Bill and I attended Burn's Night, hosted by the St. Andrew's Society of Tidewater, at the Princess Anne Country Club in Virginia Beach. Honestly, the most fun I have had since our return to the states. The men were dressed in full Scottish garb. Some women wore skirts made of their clan's tartan or a fly (something akin to a scarf) worn over the right shoulder. Others, like me, wore evening gowns. It was a very lovely and proper setting.

We sat with a wonderful group of people, all of whom are of Scottish decent (except me). I was tickled to discover three of the group came from Scotland directly and revelled in listening to their beautiful accents all evening. Once we were seated, four flasks of single malt were pulled from various sporrans and hose. The malt was free flowing and the good times were rolling! The following made up our group:

(1) Me and Bill, obviously.

(2) To our left sat Marcey and Josiah (Skip) Hunter, both of Scottish decent. Both are very involved in the St. Andrew's Society of Tidewater and the Scottish Society of Tidewater; Marcie being the membership director of the latter. Tidbits about the couple: They live in Oceanview and have created an authentic Scottish pub above their garage. According to others at the table, they have the largest selection of single malt scotch (and most diverse) found in our area.

(3) Directly across from us sat John McGlynn and Donna. John is from Scotland, somewhere between Edinburgh and Glasgow, and is the President of The Scottish Society of Tidewater. He regaled us with tales of his life before the United States (he was snatched up by General Electric when he completed university). Most notable is the story about how he was hitchhiking in the country when along comes a Rolls Royce, which picks him up. There is no room in the Royce. Why? Because there is a sheep taking up the space in the back seat. So he has to hold onto the running board as they bump along for 15 miles. He is stressing because his hat is about to blow off. The driver of the Royce kindly rolls down his window and pulls John's hat down snugly on his head then rolls the window back up again. Unfortunately, I only had a minute to chat with Donna before we were called to sit and she was too far across the table to chat with. Tidbit about the couple: They are not married but I get the feeling they have been together quite some time and have put many miles traveling together under their belts. She lives in Ghent, he in Old Towne Portsmouth.

(4) To our right sat Susan and Jim Curry (of Clan Ranald), both from Glasgow, Scotland. Susan is of Clan Ross. They have visited their homeland but have not lived there since 1971. They sport the Scottish accent but when Jim said the word New Jersey (where they lived for about three years) he sounded just like a local! Tidbits about the couple: They have a great sense of humor. They reside in Chesapeake, very near us. Neither like Scotch whiskey!

Briefly, our evening when like this:

6:00-7:00 The Social Hour: I had a 7 and 7 ($6) and Bill had two fingers of 12 year MacAllan Single Malt Scotch ($15)
7:00-11:30 Piping To Dinner - we sat but it wasn't time to eat. First they made the introductions. The Selkirk Grace was performed, and then the Haggis ceremony. What exactly is a haggis ceremony? The haggis is paraded into the room and to each table to be seen by all. It is accompanied by the bagpiper, the broad swords, a silver tray with drams of scotch (to pay the pipers). Finally Robert Burn's Address To A Haggis is made and the ceremonial haggis is cut open (this one was not in a sheep's stomach but rather a bright red sausage skin). Our very own Skip made the haggis and performed the ceremony. To read Burn's Address To A Haggis and its translation, which is far to long to include in this blog, click here: http://www.worldburnsclub.com/poems/translations/address_to_a_haggis.htm
We were then served a scoop of haggis with tatties and neeps (mashed potatoes and turnips).
Dinner was served, either a lovely fillet of salmon with dill sauce, potatoes and asparagus or fillet mignon. I had the salmon and tasted Bill's fillet. I was so impressed with the food. It was wonderful.
Then we had a slew of toasts: to the President of the United States- given by Skip, to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, to the Scottish Government - given by John, to the Lassies, to the Laddies, and the final toast was given by Professor Adam S. Potkay, PHD from the College of William and Mary and it was to the Immortal Memory of Robert Burns. I had the great misfortune of sitting in the back and not being able to understand much of what he said in the beginning but caught a lot of the excerpt of Tam o'Shanter. A tale. Wanna read it? Click here:
http://www.robertburns.org.uk/Assets/Poems_Songs/tamoshanter.htm
The bagpiper then played the military service hymns and here comes the drama. The Scot of the Year Presentation was made and the grand recipient REFUSED IT. LOUDLY. AND IN A HUFF! (He is pictured in the first photo on the right hand side, (Robert D. Lockwood). He really made a stink and truth be told emphasized my not very good first opinion of him (pompous and arrogant come to mind). To their credit, the presenters went on as if he didn't speak. To the presenters! (That is how we toasted all night...)
The bagpiper played The Flowers of the Forest and as he did so several names of members who passed away last year were read. I couldn't hear the names over the pipes. I know, you are thinking several? I was not that astonished myself because there were numerous octogenarians in our midst that evening. The finale was Auld Lang Syne played by the piper, sung by us.

"For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne."

Dreamy...

This morning the world looked like it was covered in powdered sugar.

Why bother?

I think Christmas gift giving after a certain age should stop. I mean, why bother? My children pick what they want and I buy it. Where is the anticipation in that? Most of my friends are too busy to put any thought into a gift so I get something I have or don't need. Another "thing" to stuff on the shelf of my closet. I don't want to receive a gift just because a person feels obligated to give one. If you don't have time to think about it, don't bother. If you don't know what I would appreciate here is a clue, give me a piece of you: a handwritten note, a hand-me-down copy of a book you love, a favorite recipe. Last year I received the most creative gift from a dear friend. It was a box of all of her favorite things: the dish soap she uses, her favorite lip gloss, a little piece of her. After I opened that gift I felt closer to her. Another friend makes home baked goodies to create her gifts. She loves to cook, a piece of her passion. So please, spare me the "I didn't have time but here is something" gift this year. I don't want it. All I want is something that is growing more precious by the day: a reminder of you, some time with you, the tiniest piece of you.