Harbinger of Death

Another fun filled family extravaganza. We had Thanksgiving over at the Baron's mother's house. It went fine. There's always plenty of food, plenty of laughter, lots of family, and many bottles of wine.

But the Baron's family has one tiny little quirk. They don't talk about bad stuff. Ever. They don't acknowledge a lot of things, and prefer to ignore the elephant pooping in the corner of the room. You all know me. I have no filter. Pour a few glasses of wine in me, and it's like truth serum.

This leads to a lot of uncomfortable moments. Particularly with Auntie C. I love Auntie C - she's kind, sweet, caring, and very sensitive. But the family really only gets together for holidays, so Auntie C, her husband Uncle E, and their kids get left out of the loop during the year.

You see where this is going, right? Me in tears at Easter 3 years ago telling her that we had lost our first baby, BT. Me in tears at Thanksgiving 2 years ago when she said how good I looked for 6 months pregnant, explaining that we had lost our second baby, MP a few weeks before. Her in tears this past Easter, when I explained to her that the Baron's father passed away a few months before (while everyone else cleared out of the kitchen, I was left consoling her).

And today. Explaining that we had to leave early because we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow helping my Mom move out of the house. The second I said it, I saw the look on Auntie C's face. She looked confused. She wanted to ask why my Mom was moving. But history has taught her not to ask me the tough questions, even though it was killing her.

For the first time in my life, I took the easy way out. I put on my coat and refused to make eye contact. I wasn't going to be the one to tell her anymore bad news. I couldn't do it. I watched her corner my Mother in law in another room a few minutes later and ask her.

Nothing like a family holiday to once again make me feel The Harbinger of Death.

Nevermore! kaw, kaw

Happy Thanksgiving!

This is what I do every holiday morning. I always intend to make pies the night before, but get lazy and wind up making pies for my family and the Baron's family first thing when I wake up. And for those who are curious - oh yeah, I got mad baking skillz. That's my pie, not a random photo. Homemade crust.

The funny thing is... I don't like pie. It's 3 hours worth of work, and I don't even take a piece. It's just my job for the families, I enjoy the process, I enjoy being a little special - The Bearer of Pies. I learned how to bake apple pie from my Grandmother, and it's been my role for about 10 years.

What I do love about baking a pie from scratch... Little Sisters. Sillies - I don't mean relatives, I'm an only child! It's a family tradition, born from Depression Era grandparents - how to ensure you use every last bit of usable food. You take the leftover dough from the pie crust, roll it out long and thin, slather butter on it, sprinkle with sugar and cinnamon, roll it up, cut in to little cookies, and bake for 10 mins.

The upside to always putting the pies off until the holiday morning... we always have Little Sisters for breakfast.

Pic below was taken approx 30 seconds after they left the oven. I put the pan on the stove, grabbed my phone to take a pic, and half of them were gone already.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving, and hope it's filled with all of your favorite goodies!

Always Look on The Bright Side of Life...

Pretty much sums it up these days. I know, I know... I haven't returned emails, phone calls, but it's taking pretty much everything in me to get up and shower in the morning.

Here's what's going on. Gram was in the hospital for a week with pneumonia, heart attacks, and her general declining health. Both of you who read the blog know that I deal with all of the phone calls when it comes to her health, and tried to be a good girl and visit every other day, taking Mom with me several times. Not fun. She was at the same hospital Dad died in. Mom did okay, but it was really tough on both of us Gram made it through, and she's back at the nursing home.

Meanwhile on the homefront, the Baron and I had a complete relationship meltdown. Epic proportions for a few days. I was having anxiety attacks for a few days, and wound up working from home at least once because I thought I was going to stroke out.

Oh yeah, and if you watch the news, read the paper, or don't live under a rock... you also know that the company I work for is in serious jeopardy - not a good time for me not to be putting in my best performance at work. Terrified I'm going to lose my job.

So I backed off from Mom and Auntie for a few days, trying to straighten my life out and get my head back together. Mom was so good about it, but the visits to the hospital to see Gram really through her out of whack. Flash forward a week, and Mom hadn't really slept or eaten since I saw her 6 days ago. Not good. We hugged, we cried, we took medication, finally got Mom to sleep, with the promise that she wouldn't stay alone in the house for a few days, she'd go down to my other Aunt's house to stay.

And yesterday when I talked to her (3 days after the meltdown) she had been at my aunt's a few days.... and she's decided that's it. She's not sleeping at her house ever again. She's officially moved. I knew it was coming, but I just didn't expect it to hurt so much. My parent's house is never going to be my parent's house again. Pretty soon she won't own it any longer. I can't stop crying about it. I may be pushing toward 40, been on my own since my early 20's, but dammit, Mom and Dad's house was always home! I won't be able to just swing by when I have a bad day. I won't be able to just let myself in and raid the goodie cabinet.

And the worse part is, the part that my head still can't wrap around... I'll never see Dad sitting on the oversized chair watching t.v.. I'll never see him at the computer playing his games on Pogo. I'll never again kvetch with him about work acquaintances, or how the whole place is going to hell in a hand basket. I'll never see any of his tacky Christmas decorations hung all over the house. It all finally seems real, and I can't stand it.

All this whining, and that stupid Monty Python song is ringing in my ears. Come on everybody, whistle along with me...

Mixed Tapes

Most of the people who may actually peek in on this blog know that I love mixed tapes. Hell, most of you have received a mixed tape from me (I know, I know, they're cd's now - but they harken back to the angst of my teen years, and will forever be mixed tapes, regardless of the format). So this post from RoseHawk made me think about a new mix.

I've been thinking for a bit about a mix that reminds me of Dad, but it's just a little too soon. So I'm going back a little further. Back to when we lived in the tiny apartment above my grandparent's. Back to the 70's. Back when there was very little drama or grief in my life. We were poor, but I was a kid and didn't notice, everyone I knew was poor. Gas shortages meant a nap in the car and singing with the radio while we waited in line. There was always music playing. Saturdays were devoted to house cleaning while dancing around and singing (a habit I still have today, while the dog barks ferociously at me - he has no concept of how good my voice sounds in my head).

Anyone want to help? I usually have a bit more of a theme when I make my mixed tapes - so if you're a child of the 70's do you have any songs that you still can't resist singing along with if you happen to catch it on the radio?

Feel free to make the comments anonymous if you can't face the shame of knowing all the lyrics... there's more than one on this list that makes me cringe posting for all the world to see

Pina Colada Song - Rupert Holmes
Copacabana - Barry Manilow
Love Will Keep Us Together - The Captain and Tenille
Rock the Boat - The Hues Corporation
Bennie and the Jets - Elton John
You're No Good - Linda Ronstadt
Here You Come Again - Dolly Parton
I'm A Little Bit Country, I'm a Little Bit Rock n Roll - Donny and Marie
Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard - Paul Simon

Step away from the crockpot...

I just went through my fridge to determine what I need for this week's grocery shopping, and there are 11 full meals in my freezer! Mac n cheese, chicken soup, bigos, and meat sauce. I'm doing a little happy dance here... I don't have to cook every single night this week! AND there's a chance I might actually make it to the gym after work. It's sad, but there is true joy at the thought that I might not be racing around after work every night this week to put dinner on the table.

Anyone else have a few small joys in life to celebrate this week?

Just a little giggle over names

Second post in a day - what's the world coming to????

All this talk about the Baron's family being very Polish, and mine not so much brought back a funny memory. Addressing wedding invitations. Honest to God - one side of my family has Smith the other has Jones for last names. No big shockers, maybe the occasional unusual spelling of a common first name.

Baron's family? - Lord help me, I would call and ask people to spell things out very slowly for many, many hours. They had to think that he was marrying a moron. Oh, there's the pre-requisite "-ski" in a few of the last names, but there is one that has M, L, J, D, Z, N, K and at least 5 vowels. I still couldn't spell the name today even if there was a gun pointed at my head. Funny thing is... every time I talked to a different family member, I'd get a different spelling (or at least I wrote it down differently every time!). My apologies continue to go out to the family, many years of marriage later, I can pronounce it, but I have no clue how to spell it.

Even the first names were difficult. I distinctly remember looking at Baron one night and asking "What's a Ginzi?" Mr. or Mrs. ?

Anyone have a favorite family name that they want to pass down through the generations? Or a name that they believe to be an evil joke?

Personally, I'd never hyphenate a child's first name. Seems to have been a small trend in the 70's, that has thankfully passed (it's not really evil, just a bit traumatic filling out paperwork in school when you don't have a middle name).

Recipe of the Week

My husband, hence forth known as "The Baron" , is 3/4 Polish 1/4 Irish. Cabbage and cured meat runs in his blood. Polish food is something that he grew up with at the nightly dinner table. He grew up in the heart of central CT, in neighborhoods that still have all the shop signs in both English and Polish. Coleslaw is present at every holiday. His Mom makes Golabki every New Year's Eve. Easter brings the joy of two kinds of kielbasa from Martin Rosol's - fresh and cured. And yet... I'm the one who LOVES Polish food. It's smoky, exotic, salty, tangy, and I put on 3-5 lbs every time I sit at the holiday table. The Baron could take it or leave it. I beg to go to Staropolska at least once a month, but he just doesn't get that excited about it.

To put it in perspective for you - while his family is primarily Polish, mine is... well, American. Homogenized. Typical melting pot. I'm Scottish, English, Irish, Welsh, French, Portugese and French Canadian. I have no idea how many generations back my family has lived here in New England. There was the great migration down from Maine and Massachusetts, and for the last few generations we've been in CT. No one is fresh off the boat - I think the closest thing I had to a relative that was 1st generation was my great-grandfather, but he moved from New Brunswick to Maine - not really a tumultuous trip to Ellis Island. We don't really have any traditions that go back to the Old Country. We don't have an Old Country. We had potato farmers and a few odd Portugese traditions (I'll save the one tradition that I know is Portugese for Easter - but it involves hard boiled eggs, and an unhealthy sense of competition - somebody please remind me to blog about it in the spring!)

Old World, traditional meals intrigue me, and I crave the strong, earthy smells and tastes when the weather turns cold.

This week's experiment is another one for the crockpot. It is NOT Weight Watchers friendly. In fact, it's going to require a very light lunch and some serious time on the elliptical machine, but I'm betting that it's going to be worth it. I give you... Bigos (also known as Hunter's Stew or Poland's National Dish). I can't wait to get home tomorrow night for dinner, I think I just gained 2 lbs typing this post!

Bigos
1 onion -- chopped
1 clove garlic -- minced
2 tablespoons butter
1 pound cabbage
1 quart sauerkraut -- rinsed and drained
1/2 pound mushrooms -- sliced
1 pound boneless pork butt -- cut in 1" cubes
1 pound boneless veal -- cut in 1" cubes
1/2 pound Polish sausage -- sliced 1/2" thick
1/2 cup beef stock
1 cup chopped tomatoes
2 tart apples -- diced
1/2 cup pitted prunes
1 bay leaf
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1/2 cup red wine

Brown all the meat. Layer sauerkraut, fruits and veggies, meat. Layer again. Pour in beef stock wine, spices. Cook for 8-10 hours on low. Can absolutely be frozen, everything I've read says the taste is actually better after a few days.