Easter in the 'Burbs, c. 1960

  Me, my cousin Marion (visiting from England), and my sister,  Easter 1960.

Marion was in her mid-twenties,  but my parents' policy was that everyone younger than they were get a basket.  My dad was still sending me See's chocolate rabbits when I was in my forties.

The routine during our childhood was an  Easter-egg hunt first, then church.  Which meant we were often in curlers and a hairnet (glammy!) during The Hunt.   

Still eating sweets:  Marion and me in a bakeshop in York in 2011:

"Re-living that Tearoom Moment:" Best-selling English Cakes

I gained six pounds the last time we went to England, due to utter besottment (my word) with English desserts.  Cakes are a major player, although I also loved Eton Mess, Gypsy Pie, Sticky Toffee Pudding, and Bakewell Tart.  I find them all irresistible.

The Spring 2013 issue of the National Trust Magazine has--be still my heart!--an article on the five best-selling Trust cakes, with recipes (yes, Val, I'm thinking of you). These are the cakes people line up for in the tearooms found at almost all Trust properties.

Victoria Sponge Cake--a basic jam-filled layer cake, preferably raspberry jam for "tang."  The trust sold 171,000 slices of this last year. 

Chocolate Sponge Cake--The Trust Development Chef   advises adding coffee beans to the ganache frosting because "it stops the cake tasting too sickly."  Not possible, Chef.  Chocolate is never sickly.

 Coffee and Walnut Cake--Which came in at third, with 102,000 slice sold last year.  Yum.  Lots of butter.  This is described as "the perfect autumnal cake--it's so comforting."

 Carrot Cake--The Trust is the UK's biggest farmer, which means they presumably can pull the carrots straight out of the ground for this cake.

Lemon Drizzle Cake--Which is described as "light and refreshing," despite six eggs and 10-1/2 ounces of butter.

Lawns, Limits, and Quilt Bid Update

The Quilt:  The highest  bid stands at $250.  Bids accepted until April 1.  Thank you for the supportive and enthusiastic response! 


I read a few blogs written by women in their thirties and forties, almost all of them stay-at-home moms (SAHMs).

They're very big on practical advice: how to organize children's closets,  how to design a mud room, where to find a good spice rack, and--this was helpful--the best  and cheapest mascara (see below, Define-A-Lash by Maybelline, really good).

A good tip for any age

It's sort of soothing reading these blogs because no one's talking about having enough money for retirement,  or needing to move to a house with no stairs, or whether to spend money on trips while they can still travel or to save it for when they need help down the line.

These people are still buying stuff, gadgets for their kitchens, Martha Stewart organizers from Target to keep track of busy lives,  color-coded plastic boxes for kids' toys.

Most people I know are all about getting rid of stuff.  They cleaned out their parents' houses, and they've vowed never to leave that much stuff for their own heirs to deal with.

Another difference:  The SAHMs never mention knee replacements or cataract surgery. 

My demographic,  although not exactly falling apart, is starting to show wear around the edges.  Some have been less lucky, like my friend Rob and my sister-in-law, Delilah, who've died in the last decade.  

The SAHMs are still putting in lawns.  They're all about expanding--more stuff, more children, bigger house--while my group is retracting: smaller houses, smaller gardens  (less height, less hair, lighter bones).

We have less time ahead of us, less energy.   To some degree, The End  (you know, death) informs our most important choices and decisions.  We've learned, in a profound way, about limits.

Which is a bummer.  Which may be why I read blogs by SAHMs.

Please Go Away, Proposition 8

Today the Supreme Court hears arguments over the constitutionality of Proposition 8, the anti-gay marriage proposition passed by California voters in 2008.

I will be very, very outraged if their vote goes the wrong way.

The New York Times reported on Sunday that the court could uphold Proposition 8 (boo!); strike it down (yay!); or decide that supporters of Proposition 8 lack standing to appeal in which case previous rulings that the proposition is unconstitutional will stand (yay, again!).

The Other Side will argue that marriage between a man and a woman is "traditional," a word that makes me grind my teeth.  Slavery in the South was traditional, I guess,  and so was women not being allowed to vote. 

And then there's the procreation argument, which is nuts because so many childless heterosexual couples-- Jerry and me, for example--are married.

Let's have justice, Justices.

Family values:  Rylan, son of Shannon and Celia, who married in 2008 during the brief time it was legal in California.



Rylan, a/k/a  Mr. Adorable, and me last weekend. 

Quilt Seeks Bidders

Only one week left to bid on the Sawtooth Star quilt I made to benefit the Berkeley Food Pantry.

Anyone want to bid up the current bid of $150?  For any bid over $200, I will include a personalized, hand-embroidered label for free, a $25 value (!).

Machine-washable, 46" square, all cotton.  The quilting, done by Angie Woolman, is a pattern of flowers, vines,  and leaves of grass.

The pieced back

Lose Weight = Buy Tight Stuff

Forgiving tie sweater covers midriff rolls

I've been on a diet since January.  Not a killer diet , but a slow version of the South Beach Diet (Phases 2 and 3),  low-carb but sensible.  I snack on almonds, carrots, and mozzarella sticks.    I cheat with dried fruit and the occasional small bar of dark chocolate that I gobble in the car as soon as I buy it and then I hide the wrapper in the outside garbage bin.

It took me about five years to decide to do this, but it's worked.  When I was in San Francisco last week, I tried on clothes and discovered I've gone down a size. 

Then I proceeded to  lose my mind.

 I bought a dress, a cardigan, a pair of tight black pants, and a pencil skirt.  Two pairs of sandals, including one with a heel.   In my 62-year-old mind, in the privacy of the dressing room, I was downright glammy. Oh, yes!   I was a new person who was going to wear skirts and looked pulled-together all the time.

Then I got home, threw it all on the bed, and thought where am I going to where a pencil skirt in Berkeley, exactly?  And when?  To the Food Pantry on Mondays?  It was on sale, but so what?

Pencil skirt:  On sale, but where to wear?

I'm going to wear the dress in Boston at sweet Leah B.'s graduation in June, but after that?

And how, over the course of four trips am I going to keep off this weight and continue to fit in these clothes?  I'm going to Texas, where Jerry's daughter's going to provide pie for his birthday and his daughter-in-law adores bread pudding and I might as well go along?  Then I'm going to England, for God's sake, home of pub desserts and lager.  And a cruise where all the desserts are free and there are plenty of them?

By the time I get to New York City in the fall, I'm going to be back in my old jeans and that un-glammy skirt with the elastic waist that I've taken on every trip since 2007:

The much-traveled skirt:  Note comfy elastic waist

Wearing it in Riverside Park, New York City, 2007

A Couple of Books and a Near-Bidless Quilt

Update:  Quilt bid now stands at $150.  Thank you, Suzanne!


It's 6:10 am, and I've been awake since 4:15.  Not good.

I have myself to blame: a small dark chocolate bar at 5 pm yesterday (what was I thinking?) and a late-ish Diet Coke.  Too much caffeine, too late in the day. 

In the meantime, I've been paging through two good reads:

 

 

I love this book!  I've lent it it to many pals, and it was kicking around in my car because someone returned it.  An excellent re-read, too.

Novella Carpenter writes about a farm she created on an abandoned lot in West Oakland, deep in the ghetto, with a compelling cast of characters and eventually chickens, turkeys, ducks, bees, and two pigs.  She and her boyfriend dumpster-dive to feed her animals, even behind fancy restaurants on Fourth Street.

I just discovered that she has a blog and has open-house workday at her farm every Thursday.   My friend Anne and I are thinking of going down and helping out.

And the other book:

This is such a sweet, engaging, sad book.  The essayist Roger Rosenblatt writes of his experience of moving in with his son-in-law and three small children after his daughter dies suddenly.  He and his wife leave their home in Long Island, move to Bethesda, and take up life with a young family struggling with loss, re-weaving a life.


                                                                                * * *

And the nearly bid-free quilt:

I have one bid of $100.  Any others?  It's waiting for a home, and the Berkeley Food Pantry shelves are waiting for more food.  Supplies at the Alameda County Food Bank are running low, and that has a direct impact on what we can give away to the people who line up for food every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

How About A Quilt?

Sawtooth Star, 46" square, 100% cotton

I finally finished  this quilt to benefit the Berkeley Food Pantry!

If someone's willing to make a donation to the Pantry, the quilt is theirs.  Check made out directly to the Pantry, so it's tax-deductible.

A pieced back

It's 100% cotton, machine washable, and 46" square, the perfect size for lap quilt to use while you're reading or watching TV.   It's also a size that will work for a particularly adventurous baby (no pastel pink and blue for this kid).

I pieced it, Angie Woolman machine-quilted it in a pattern of flowers and grass, and I hand-stitched the binding.  For an extra $25, I'll hand-embroider a label for it with the recipient's name and whatever else you'd like (within reason; embroidering is tedious).

The flower pattern

The grass pattern

.
 

Please leave a bid in the comment box, on Facebook, or e-mail me.  If there's competition (oh, please--remember it's a good cause!), I'll post updates.

Winner to be announced on April 1.

Girl with Pearl Earring/Man Hiding from Camera

Girl with a Pearl Earring, Johannes Vermeer, c. 1665

Yesterday was the anniversary of our first date, which we always mark by going out to lunch.

The plan was to go to San Francisco to see the "Girl with a Pearl Earring" show at the de Young Museum and to have lunch at the Legion of Honor museum cafe.

It's a big show! Many prints by Rembrandt and other artists.  Usually, I gravitate to paintings, not prints--gimme the big oils, the color, the scope.  But the prints are wonderful--small, finely detailed portraits of peasants, artists, and noblemen that invite study.  I spent a lot of time with them, even the landscapes:

The Landscape with the Three Trees, Rembrandt van Rijn, 1643, etching, drypoint, and engraving.  Do you see the pair of lovers on the lower right?  Neither do I.

The Shell (Conus marmoreus), Rembrandt van Rijn, 1650, etching, drypoint, and engraving

Peapods and Insects. Jan van Kessell II, c. 1650, oil on copper.  This was Jerry's favorite, of course.

Then I got to the extensive show of paintings by Rembrandt and others, enough so that that part of the show could be an additional outing.  There's only one Vermeer, the pearl-earring girl, but it's worth going to see.  What a luminous, moving portrait it is!  It's a small painting in a big room, set off by itself, reminiscent of the Mona Lisa in the Louvre.  But without the crowd (although the show was crowded overall, even on a weekday).

We made our way to the Legion of Honor, where we had "grass-fed hotdogs"  for lunch (what in hell is a grass-fed hotdog?  A bunch of hotdogs in a field, grazing?).  Gave up on a walk at Land's End due to a sharp wind and billowing fog and made our way back to Berkeley.

Several blocks from our house, I spotted Marion Merrill, my boss years ago in the UC Berkeley Entomology Department, sitting at a bus stop.  We swooped in and collected her and drove her to where she wanted to go. She's almost 90, feisty and indomitable, like being near-blind and unable to drive.

Marion was a witness to that date 37 (or was it 38?) years ago.  I remember sitting in her office having a minor anxiety attack about what on earth I was going to talk about with this cranky professor.  She peered out her office window at the car as we drove out of the lot.  She said I looked scared.

I had Jerry take a picture of us yesterday:

Marion and me, March 12, 2013

Then--weren't we dutiful?--we went off to Berkeley Bowl, where Jerry had his resigned-to-a-mission-to-hell look.  I tried to capture it:

No dice.

Rushing from Pillar to Post and Not Very Competently

That's what I've been doing.  Trying to help a friend pack up to move across the country because she's sick.  Trying to finish up a quilt I'd like to auction (?) on my blog to benefit the Food Pantry.  Keeping up with friends,  a house, upcoming trips.  And bills, a garden (is it ever going to rain?), and getting the taxes finished.  Multi-tasking like mad, which is always a bad idea for me.

We're going to San Francisco today to see "Girl with the Pearl Earring," at the DeYoung Museum and then on to lunch to celebrate the 37th anniversary of our first date.  A walk at Land's End.  Time out!

Fire at Chez Panisse

 I just heard that a fire destroyed the wooden facade of Chez Panisse at 3 am today.  It's a story that's everywhere from The New York Times to The Berkeleyside.  People are upset.

I'm also upset.   It's an institution on North Shattuck in Berkeley, and I walk past it many times a year.  I see limos depositing people from out of town.  But I hardly ever go in.

Here's why--and this may be a sacrilege:

• It's expensive.

• It's somewhat noisy.

• Often you have to sit on hard wooden benches, maybe with a pillow to cushion the bum.  You sit very close to neighboring tables.

• There's the sense that you're very, very lucky to be able to eat there.

• My mother once asked for well-done lamb chops and was refused them.

• Jerry and I had a special lunch there once and figured out that it cost us $1 a minute.  We were in and out in one hour.

• In a word, I find it snobby.  I'm never quite comfortable there, in any sense of the word.

The food, however, is good.

Tuesday Hash

                                                                         1.

 
I've been working on a quilt border.   What goes in the middle is all sewn together, but it will stretch if I leave it up on the wall, so I take it down each night.  What's left is the  (probable) border.  I'm going to sew it together today. I hope.  Already made the back.

                                                                             2.
Yesterday I discovered this photo of myself taken in 2007 in front of Eleanor Roosevelt's cottage, Val-Kill, in Hyde Park, New York.

Hyde Park, 2007

Then I came across a photo of me taken in Greece, four years and eleven pounds later.  I put my head down on the table and shook it, all at the same time.  We were first-timers on a cruise, and I'd eaten every dessert that came my way.  And then we went to England where I discovered pub desserts and lager. 

Since January 1,  I've had no desserts, limited sugar, blah, blah, blah, and I'm still pounds over what I weighed then.  Hell with it?  Accept that I'm older and fatter?

                                                                                3.

On Sunday, we worked on our taxes for hours, very dreary and bickering-inducing.   But we did manage to empty the big dish on the table (below),  which was toppling over with tax stuff. 

Finally, at 3:45, I screeched that we had to get out of the house.

Jerry:  Where to?

Me:  Don't care, anywhere!

(Got in car, headed down the street.)

Me:  I know!  The UC Botanic Garden!

(Drive back to house to get membership card.)

Usually, it's peaceful there, but there was a raucous wedding reception going on, and the people were chanting, "USA! USA!" so it sounded like a swim meet.  We could hear them everywhere we walked--in the rose garden, the medicinal garden, Australasia, South America.

The bride wore a spaghetti strap, tiered lace dress. They were lucky on the weather or she'd have been freezing.  Loud DJ music. Not peaceful, but interesting.

Squint and you and you can see the bridal couple posing for their photographer, groom holding the bride.  This was the photographer's idea.  I've never understood those staged shots, seem so phoney, but whatever.

We particularly like the California section of the Garden, because when we were dating in 1976, we had impromptu picnics there.  In fact, it's the very site where I laid it on Jerry that I didn't cook.  His response:  "Strike one." 

Jerry in the California section, wearing his Cal hat and telling me that taking his picture is "stupid."  But then he liked it.



                                                                                 4.



A slow day at the Food Pantry yesterday: only 30 clients.  We actually had bread (Semi-Freddi's) and pastries (ditto, plus Starbuck's) left over for Wednesday.  Had some new clients, including a young couple living in a car.

I'm worried because I heard on the news that WIC (Women's, Infant, and Children's food program) is going to be cut due to the sequester.  WIC supports low-income women and children up to five years of age and currently supports 53% of all babies born in the US  (time out to shake head and put down on table again).

The Pantry has a number of women and children clients who depend on this program.  If they lose it, they're going to need more food from the Pantry.  The Pantry served 2000 people last month.

Sometimes the Pantry shelves get pretty bare

                                                                         5.

I'm beginning to get excited about our trip to England in May.  Been poring over a new edition of a favorite travel guide, trying to figure out what trips well take out of London (left).  Some of the trips are two hours each way by train--too long!  By the time we get back to London, I'm a whiney, over-tired wreck Jerry has to escort back to whatever flat we're renting.  Shorter is definitely better.