Winterizing

It's been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, my hometown...

Garrison Keillor is one of my heroes. I've been a fan of his since I was in high school, when I wondered why my tape recorder wasn't auto-programmable like my VCR. I would pull my chair up to the boombox on my dresser and just sit and listen to his baritone. The Guy Noir segments were my favorite. One day, I hope my blog posts will be as good as his tales from Lake Wobegon, and then I can die happy.

It's been a quiet week here in University Town, out on the edge of the mountains.

This week, I got ready for winter. I took my car in to be winterized. I also "shrunk wrapped" my bedroom windows. And finally, I purchased my first named African violet.

I've been a longtime fan of African violets. I gave them up when I went to college, but started growing them again when I moved north. They do two things: help keep the air humid, and help me from going crazy in the winter. They grow and bloom beautifully when there is nothing but gray and snow outside.

I have three violets. One is dying--a victim, I believe, of the cold draft that came through the window on the early snow days. I bought another to replace it. I used some of the leftover window plastic to build a bubble around the new violet, and it is now in quarantine, on the same shelf with the others. The new violet is a scraggly thing, having been on a low shelf in the back of the store. Even so, it looks sturdy, and so far, it's doing very well. I have high hopes for it--higher hopes than when I got the violet it is replacing. All of my previous violets have been NOID grocery store acquisitions. The new one was, too, but surprisingly, the pot had a tag. It's my first named violet: Anthoflores Berti.

This week, I made a classic Chinese dish: Tomato Egg Rice, or, as the blog Rice Again calls it: Chinese Egg Tomato S**t.  I used Arborio rice, since I had a large container of it left over from a failed risotto recipe. My ingredients:

1 cup Arborio rice
3 cups chicken broth
28-oz can of peeled tomatoes
4 eggs

I cooked the rice in the classic method: putting the rice and one cup of broth in the pan, stirring over heat until it was absorbed. I then added the second cup of broth, stirring until absorbed. Repeat for the third cup of broth. Finally, I added in the tomatoes, straight from the can, juice and all. Continued cooking and stirring. After about 5 minutes, I was afraid that I had put in too much liquid, but after cooling a bit, it was a nice creamy consistency.

I cracked the eggs in a bowl, scrambled them with a fork, and then put them in a hot fry pan, continuing to scramble them into small pieces until done. The dish was served by sprinkling the egg on top of the tomato risotto.

I used to think that I did not like risotto. This dish changed my mind.

Happy Halloween!

Monday Drive

As Borat would say: Great Success!

I had class this morning, then I went to the car dealership to get an oil change and winterization.  I arrived at 1:30pm, and was told that I had been scheduled for 1 o'clock.  I used my phone to pull up the e-mail confirming my appointment--it was 1:30pm.  Luckily, the (other) 1:30 appointment didn't show, and they were able to get my car in.

The dealership was at the edge of town. So when my car was finished, I went driving. I went south, but then the road curved westward. I was in a little community I had never been before, with a small downtown along the road. And the countryside was lovely.

I wanted to stop to take pictures, but I didn't want to stop at a person's farm. Luckily, I came across a state Department of Agriculture building.  It was new, large, with plenty of parking.  As far as I could tell, I was the only one there.  But best of all, it was adjacent to a farm, complete with a red barn, and a field of dried corn.

Unfortunately, between the Dept. of Ag building and the farm, there was a lowered area for water retention.  The retention area was a long oval, and because of the recent snow, there was actually a pond on one side, with wild mallards swimming in it.

I decided to cross it on the drier side of the oval.  The whole area was covered in unmown hay, flattened by the snow.  The adventure was testing each footstep--would the unseen earth underneath the grass support my weight?  Or was it hiding a puddle of mud?  It really was like crossing a pond, as I slowly zigzagged across.

On the way back, I stopped in the little town, and took a picture of a house I had seen from the highway. It had been decked out for Halloween, with mannequins by the door, a scarecrow hanging by it's neck from a window, and ghouls popping out flower pots.  


And finally, I returned to school, for the sole purpose of getting a "color wheel" shot. This time, I think I got it right:

For more and larger photos, go to my Picasa album: Monday Drive

Friday out and about

I didn't get a chance to drive around on Friday. It rained all day and it was dark by the time I left the pub to go home.

I was presenting a project that I had been working on since summer 2007. Every Friday the department meets and someone presents their research. It was my turn. I got to school with plenty of time before my presentation. I felt nervous, but also confident. I gave my talk, and wasn't bothered by any of the questions. I had several people congratulate me afterwards. But still...I don't want to think about it too hard. There were several times that I was asked a question my advisor(s) answered the questions for me. Were they trying to help me out in a good way? Or were they trying to help me out in the sense that I was fumbling so badly that they felt they had to step in to save me from myself? I don't know, and I don't want to think about it.

The last time I was before this group of people I was giving my oral defense for my candidacy exam. It was a terrible experience.

This presentation was different, of course. And the oral exam, well, it felt so long ago. But I wonder if that haunting feeling that I have now, this questioning of how I did, if some part of that unease didn't come from my sense of total failure that I had in the past.

In any event, I got good feedback,and spent the rest of the afternoon reading a paper that one of the professors suggested.

The happy hour was at a microbrewery/pub called Otto's. I don't drink, but I ordered their fish and chips. It was excellent--a large portion that was moist, and very flaky. The batter was well-seasoned, and not very oily. It came with a homemade tartar sauce with a strong kick of horseradish.

I don't normally use cash, but the restaurant grouped the bill, so I had to borrow money from a friend. The evening was good, but I left angry. One of the students had a bit too much and wouldn't stop talking, even after everyone had left. His ride, a female student, was waiting patiently for him to finish his glass, while he jabbered on about some class. And since I know that I wouldn't be comfortable if everyone ditched me while I waited for some guy to finish his drink--which he was taking his time to do--I hung around. Finally, the guy *I* was giving a ride to, stood up, put his arm around Mr. Slow and said "We should go." It wasn't late, and I didn't have other plans, but I was still annoyed.

It rained all night, and into Saturday afternoon. I love being inside and listening to the sound of rain.

The photo was taken on Thursday. I was attempting to do a color study, like a real-life color wheel: green, red, yellow, then behind them, blue, white. I don't think I succeeded. The composition looks unbalanced to me. Ah well, maybe my skills will improve enough that I can get a better picture next fall.

A Talking Week

First, a few comments:
After snowing 8 inches over 2 days last week, the temps are back around 70, and it's a beautiful fall day. I plan to do some driving around town tomorrow and try to get a good photo of the colors. I'm a little disappointed: on Saturday one of the nearby towns is having a fall foliage tour on its historical railway, and but the tickets are sold out. Next year, I must remember to start keeping my eyes open for the ticket sales starting in September!


I've noticed my postings are now running late, a Thursday/Saturday schedule instead of Tues/Fri. I am still committed to 2 posts a week...I've just been busier now that it's later in the semester and things are getting pushed back later in the week.

And now:
I wanted to thank everyone who read my blog last week and e-mailed me comments. I promise to reply to everyone this weekend. It was really great to hear from people.

The theme this past week was social interaction. I haven't talked this much in weeks. I had two friends approach me to ask for my perspective on different issues. I gave two talks: one to a class, a practice talk to a prof (and I get to give it to the department on Friday!) And also on Friday the department is going out for happy hour. I know this might not seem like much, but my typical week has me sitting in class in the morning, then going home straight after class. It doesn't bother me. I don't have anything worthwhile to say, anyway.

Early Snow

It was halfway through October, the afternoon of 10/15, when it started snowing. It was too early for snow. The leaves were still on the trees, some of the trees still green, when a the wet mush started falling. The temps weren't even freezing. But it snowed all night--6 inches.

I went to bed angry. I was certain it would all freeze overnight. I can deal with a certain amount snow. What I DON'T like dealing with is when snow melts, then freezes, leaving your car embedded in the middle of an ice cube. I needn't have worried. The temperatures remained just above freezing.

I heard snow falling off the roof and the tree outside my bedroom in soft thuds all night. In the early morning I heard a sharp crack and a louder crash, but I assumed that it was just more snow, falling off all at once in the sun. Once again, I was wrong. Large branches had fallen off the tree in front of my window.

Six inches of snowfall is normal here, but more a mid-winter phenomenon. October was early, and yes, it was a lot for a first snowfall. However, my morning was completely unremarkable, and my gas-heated apartment was warm. I started my drive to school completely oblivious to the disruptions the snow had caused.

The roads were clear of snow, but there was plenty of debris. Broken branches were everywhere--the trees couldn't bear the weight of the wet snow on the leaves. On my way to school, two stoplights were blacked out.

Parts of the campus were closed off. A mass e-mail went out to all the students advising them to stay away from certain tree-lined walkways because of falling branches. It was homecoming weekend, but no one was allowed to camp out by the stadium (as is customary) due to the continuing snow and the threat of dropping temperatures. The parade was postponed. The homecoming coronation was moved inside, and no one was allowed to park on the grass lots--and there are more grass lots around the stadium than paved areas. Instead, the University called the area shopping centers, and asking to use their parking lots for game day parking.

Once I got to school Friday morning, I heard from classmates that had lost power, and even heat. The news reported 12% of the town was without power. The Red Cross set up an emergency shelter in a nearby elementary school. Today, Saturday morning, I got an e-mail from my church pastor saying that if anyone was still without power (like his family) to feel free to call his cell, and that the church would try to get them a temporary place to stay.

Of course, the first snow also brings out people's sense of fun. As I was leaving school on Friday afternoon I saw that someone(s) had made a snow sofa and a snow TV, complete with willow whip antennas.

Photos are here: Snow Day

Addendum: The National Weather Service has reported that this was the earliest local snowfall in recorded history.

Scenes from Campus

On Wednesday we had our first snow storm, but last  week there was a hint of the crazy weather to come.  We had extremely high winds.  Two roads adjacent to the stadium were blocked off for safety reasons.  Part of the stadium roof was under repair and loose materials were landing in the streets, causing damage to one vehicle.  The photo isn't vandalism.  It's wind damage.




Also on campus last week was a PR team from Microsoft, promoting Windows 7.  I apologize for the glare in the photo.  Under the "741", the text reads "You are the one".

I don't get it.

What does it even mean?  Windows 7 is personalizable?  It will be useful to you?  It will make you feel special?  

Hopefully Win7 itself will actually work better than the ad campaign.

Notes: Hemming jeans

A year ago, I got two pairs of jeans during a "buy one get one" sale.  One pair of jeans I hemmed soon after purchase.  The second pair I just got around to hemming last week.  

A Google search on "how to hem jeans" will give you much better instructions than can be found on my blog. However, those instructions show how to re-use the original hem. Instructables has one such method. And last year, when I first searched for how to hem jeans, I used the instructions on Dacia Ray as my manual.

In both these methods, you use/reuse the original hem. In the Instructables entry, you cut off, then re-attach, the original hem. With Dacia, you fold over the extra fabric and sew the hem higher on the leg. Both are good methods. However, I, personally, had some issues. First, I wasn't crazy about having the extra fabric along where you re-stitch the hem. Yes, you iron it flat, so you can't feel it or see it, but knowing it was there still bothered me. Second, I have no sewing machine, and being a fairly inexperienced seamstress, I had difficulty with sewing the perfectly straight line that I wanted. Since I was not intent on saving the original hem, I did my own variation.

1) Measure the desired length of the jeans, pin, and iron the jeans.  Mark the folded edge.  I will call this the Fold Line.

To measure the length on the jeans needing hemming, I laid them down over an old pair of jeans that were the same brand and style, but had a length I liked.  This worked well for me.   However, putting on the jeans that need hemming, wearing the shoes that you want to wear with them, and pinning in front of a mirror, is probably best.

I used washable marker for all markings.

2) Measure the Hem Height.  That is, measure from the outside edge of the hem, to where the hem is folded under.  The stitching should be between these points.  Note the measurement.  Now, from where you folded and marked the jeans, measure two Hem Heights out.  Use a ruler to help mark this 2X Hem Height.

3) Cut the jeans along the 2X Hem Height line.  Turn the jeans inside out.  Fold the cut edge up, so that the cut edge lines up with the Fold Line .  Iron.

4) Fold jeans up again, along the Fold Line.  Iron and pin.

5) Turn the jeans right side out.  Measure the stitch height from the original hem.  Mark the Stitch Height on the outside of the jeans.

6) Sew across the jeans using the Stitch Height Line as a guide.  Since even that, my stitches still come out a little crooked, I use a small metal guide (actually a bookmark) and hold it along the line.  This results in very very straight stitches.

7)  I then went back over the stitches using a Double Running Stitch.
(Just now, I was trying to find out the name of the stitch I was using to hem my jeans.  It took me half an hour to get to "double running stitch".  I have no recollection about how a year ago I found out about the double running stitch, or why I chose it--It's apparently an outdated Elizabethan stitch.  Today, people with any sense use the "back stitch.")  

 8)  At this point the hem looks flat and obvious.  However, once the jeans are laundered, they develop the desired weathering and puckering.

Thumbs up for food

The day after I got back, I had to turn the heat on in the apartment--it was getting into the 40's at night. This inspired another wave of cooking.

That Sunday, I had a craving for comfort food: fried chicken, mashed potatoes, pie. There are 4 grocery stores within 2 miles of where I live: Giant and Weis, which are traditional grocery stores, Wegmans, the "Central Market"-like store I've written about earlier, and Wal-Mart. Of these stores, the Weis has by far best Kosher selection, but in general, is also the least crowded. I've never had to wait in line for a cashier, and I wonder if the place turns a profit. It closes at 10pm (9pm on Sundays) while the other three stores are open 24/7. It's a good store, though, with conveniences such as a post office on the inside, and a Culligan-type water tap on the exterior (I buy bottled water by the gallon and refill). It also happens to be the closest grocery to my apartment.

Since I only wanted to pick up some fried chicken, I stopped at my neighborhood Weis. I was surprised that the deli didn't have normal fried chicken but only fried chicken wings--like hot wings, only done in fried chicken batter. I bought a bag of 10 wings, went home, stuck them in the oven while I made the sides: mashed potatoes and glazed dijon carrots. The potatoes were from a dried box, and the carrots were leftover inspired. I had a salad which called for 2 carrots, which me with the rest of the package.

The glazed dijon carrots were amazing. I am not much of a carrot person, but this could have been my entire meal. This is recipe is holiday quality. I omitted the ground ginger, since I had none, but it was still very, very good.

The last part of my Sunday lunch was baked pears--Weis had them on sale. I selected a couple of Bartletts. I put them in the oven to bake, and sat down for lunch with my chicken and side dishes.

After eating lunch, however, I grew violently ill. Lesson learned--do not eat fried chicken wings from a place that doesn't sell regular fried chicken. Especially when the wings are sitting under a dubious looking heat lamp and have been sitting there for an unknown length of time. Or, better yet, avoid this Weis's deli.

It was Campbell's soup and toast for me for the next couple of days. As I transitioned back into solids, I discovered Stonyfield Farm organic yogurt. It's yummy! It supports small farmers! It's sold at Wal-Mart! What's not to like? It does double duty, both at breakfast, and as a dessert. (And yes, I buy the large tubs instead of the individual serving sizes.)

Another discovery was Target's Archer Farms Blueberry Granola. Yummy granola, fair price, and I think the package design is very clever. The container for it is a solid-feeling paperboard canister--think of an oatmeal canister, except oval shaped. The top is scored in the middle, along the short axis of symmetry, so that you can open it by folding the lid back. I had heard about the packaging earlier but I'm here to say that it works very well in practice.

Lastly, I decided to make marshmallow rice treats, or Rice Krispie treats, if you use the brand name. You basically melt marshmallows and butter in a pot, mix in crisped rice cereal, then pour into a cake pan to cool. Only, I guess I had the heat too high when melting the marshmallows, since they caramelized a bit on the bottom. The resulting cake, however, though not as pull-apart gooey as normal, was much richer in taste the traditional stuff. Once again, repeatable for the holidays.

Travel musings

To step back in time about a week:

I'm glad to report that my suitcase survived the not at all arduous journey to the City and back. All the paint remained on the suitcase. No one walked off it, but then again, in the dozens of trips that I've taken before this last time, no had walked off with my suitcase, either.

My attempts to make my suitcase stand out actually heightened my fear that someone would mistakenly walk away with it. Would someone else, also with a painted suitcase, just quickly glance, "Oh, I see paint" and walk away with mine? Would they take the time to actually look at the pattern on the paint to make sure it was the right bag? When picking out my bag from the cart, I was terrified that I would pick out the wrong bag. I would keep looking down at the suitcase, checking and rechecking, as I walked through the terminal.

It wasn't until I was about to leave the the City and I caught a commercial on TV--a Southwest commercial showing workers putting luggage on a plane--and saw that none of the suitcases were painted with a design, that it hit me that painted suitcases were rare. I was not until I was in Dulles, sitting in one of their "Travelling lounges" next to a flight attendant that had a multicolored tassel on her suitcase, that I was fully at ease. It was that moment that I remembered that a colored ribbon or tie was what almost everyone used to identify their suitcases, just this little piece of fabric. And I had painted 5 sides of my suitcase--including painting my initials, in full spray paint glory, on the back. No, I think my suitcase was distinctive and hard to mistake.

The morning before I left the City, I went to the restaurant The Egg and I. I've been trying to find good breakfast places around the City. I'm convinced that one has not really experienced a town until one has searched out the best places to have breakfast there. One normally hears discussions about where to go for lunch or dinner, but people rarely have arguments over where to go for breakfast. The choices seem so limited: either the all-American egg/batter-based carb/salted meat or coffee/pastries. Where would you go for an Asian-fusion breakfast? Greek breakfast? Indian breakfast? Maybe those things don't exist in your town, but part of the adventure is finding that out.

The Egg and I is a suburban place, not a greasy spoon--its pancakes are whole wheat, the cheese on its omelets smelled chevre-ish--and the lunch-level prices reflected that as well. The particular restaurant I visited (it's a chain restaurant) was quite new, and the decor reflected a French countryside palette. There was a banquet area, and a group of about 1st grade girls were having a party. This was about 10am on a Saturday. Service was friendly and prompt. It was a good restaurant, but not outstanding, either. There was plenty of food, and breakfast held me until dinner. This would have been a good thing, except that I met with friends for a goodbye lunch right before I went to the airport, and I could only take about 3 bites of my lunch.

I arrived back in Dulles about 8:30pm. I rode in one of their travelling lounges, which was actually quite neat--it's much like a rail car in its size, about 1.5 - 2 times the width of a normal bus, with seats lining the side and lots of open room in the middle. It was very comfortable, and, yes, felt lounge-like. When I arrived in my terminal, it was a little before 9pm and the shops were all closing, pulling down grills across their entrances. I wanted to get Auntie Anne's pretzels, located at gate B76. I was at B3 or so. I started walking down the concourse, but only got to about the B40's before I accepted the fact that I was not going to make it in time. Did I mention that the concourse is one straight long line? It was neat, though, walking though this gigantic concourse, soaring ceilings, all glass, and having it be basically closed, all the waiting areas empty and dimmed. It was peaceful and grand. I imagine that this is what the architects wanted me to feel.

Once we landed in University Town, someone in the front of the plane announced the football game score, with our team was fairly far behind, and that there was only 11 minutes left in the game. There were groans of disappointment, but then, also a slight bit of tension. You see, there is only one main road out of the airport. This road leads directly to the stadium. From the stadium, one can then turn to get into town. In other words, we had to get off the plane and onto the road in 11 minutes, or else we would be stuck with the 100,000 people leaving the stadium. (And yes, the stadium holds 100,000 people. I think 107,280 to be more exact. This is a football town.)

I was lucky. I just beat the crowd. It was good to be home.

Catching up

I missed last Friday's post, for which, I'd like to apologize to my readers. It seems that it has been forever since I've blogged.

The blog is something that I now always keep in the back of my mind. I keep notes for ideas to blog about, and keep them in drafts on Blogger, or on notes in my iPhone. I parse phrases in my head in the shower, trying to think how they would 'sound' written down. I think too, it has kept me sane this semester. This has been THE best semester I've had at school. I think this is partly due to my light class load, but also, I think due to this blog. I keep thinking that I have to TRY something, I have to DO something, because I need something to blog about.

This can be seen already in my recipe reviews. I normally try to cook as little as possible, and what, ME, try new recipes? BLEH. But already, since starting this blog, I've tried new recipes every week. I'm learning about cooking, and being excited about trying new things. This whole cooking thing is like a new world. And crafting, too. I've always thought they were silly, cute, things to pass the time. And they are, I guess. But if I blog about them, if I'm given some justification for doing them, I mean...Let's start again. I think doing crafts is silly and frivolous. But with this blog in the background, I can justify myself and not feel guilty for "wasting my time" by saying to myself "I'm doing this craft because then I can have something of interest for the blog", I don't have to feel guilty.

It's freeing. I feel like I'm not stuck in the world where everything is "should, should, should", but I can now have some freedom to do what I want, to do something that seems fun, and the world is NOT going to end because I actually did something I actively enjoyed.

I know I put myself on a schedule for this blog, every Tuesday and Friday, another rule for me to follow. And although I am sorry when I don't follow the schedule, I don't feel like a failure and a fool when I don't keep up. The blog is still there, in my head. I have these notes and ideas that aren't going anywhere until I post them.

This week then, I'm going to post twice more, just to catch up, to make up for missed posts.

Thanks for bearing with me.