I'm currently grading my student's papers, including 2 assignments purposed to help them find their own opinions on Medicaid and national healthcare systems. These students are very bright, but the majority of them are very "green" with limited exposure to anything foreign or different and being asked to form their own opinion on anything is brand new to them. Some are so angry and disconnected from the sheltered life they've led thus far that it scares me for them. Others are more balanced or admit that it's confusing.
Another student stated that America is "still a highly conservative Christian nation, see(ing) the value of earning one's keep" and that "those earning their keep should not be given a free ticket to the 'American Dream'". (This is a student that believes health care is a human right - just possibly not a right as an American).
The part of this comment that struck me the most is the stated relationship between Christianity and earning your keep. Thank God that this is not the actual teaching of the Gospel regarding salvation, because then I would be in trouble! Reading the student's answer made me overwhelmingly thankful for the free and unmerited gifts of grace and mercy that I receive from my Savior that allow me to get out of bed in the morning.
It also reminded me how few professing Christians have been taught or have grasped what Jesus actually says to us in the Word, and how often & easily that lack of knowledge is manipulated by politics.
I should note that the paragraph I just wrote is not my official stance on national healthcare or work or food, just a note of gratitude that a King bigger than our planet's governments has decided that I can't earn His love.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
I'm So Excited!
I just had to post this. Wonder why?
Baby Girl Photo Boothe on the Playing Grown Up Blog. You gotta see this :).
Thanks again to Brooke for helping me make this shower special for people that I love so much. I didn't have a single "worlds-colliding panic attack". Most likely because she's Brooke :).
Here's my favorite picture. (I admit I have a bias).
Baby Girl Photo Boothe on the Playing Grown Up Blog. You gotta see this :).
Thanks again to Brooke for helping me make this shower special for people that I love so much. I didn't have a single "worlds-colliding panic attack". Most likely because she's Brooke :).
Here's my favorite picture. (I admit I have a bias).
Friday, March 18, 2011
Break-it-Down
So, it's Friday night of Spring Break week. And I'm procrastinating from writing the report I have due Monday, which I have stayed home tonight to write.
It has been a good, but very fast week. Thus far, I am left with the following questions:
1.) At what exact moment did I become an uptight grown up?
2.) Is the melancholy contemplation of life while driving through the mountains and staring at trees (or sitting on the beach staring at the ocean) good for me or does it just make me dissatisfied? Am I too old for it? Would I still do it if I was married with kids? (or would I do it if the kids weren't screaming?)
3.) How many carbs and calories can one eat before becoming significantly short of breath?
4.) Is there a ratio of immediate weight gain to food intake that can be divided by number of hours in the general Smoky Mountain area?
5.) Is there an age where you become too old to roam through a tacky gift shop making fun and taking pictures with the merchandise?
6.) How come PBS Frontier Life has been the closest thing to Survivor: The Mountains? (I'm guessing because there wouldn't be as many bikinis as in the tropical regions).
7.) Could I too operate a successful tourist business of fried dough, fudge, jam, and other sugars or would I be like the putt-putt course that nobody wants to go to?
Ok, those are all of my questions for now. Here are some pictures:
It has been a good, but very fast week. Thus far, I am left with the following questions:
1.) At what exact moment did I become an uptight grown up?
2.) Is the melancholy contemplation of life while driving through the mountains and staring at trees (or sitting on the beach staring at the ocean) good for me or does it just make me dissatisfied? Am I too old for it? Would I still do it if I was married with kids? (or would I do it if the kids weren't screaming?)
3.) How many carbs and calories can one eat before becoming significantly short of breath?
4.) Is there a ratio of immediate weight gain to food intake that can be divided by number of hours in the general Smoky Mountain area?
5.) Is there an age where you become too old to roam through a tacky gift shop making fun and taking pictures with the merchandise?
6.) How come PBS Frontier Life has been the closest thing to Survivor: The Mountains? (I'm guessing because there wouldn't be as many bikinis as in the tropical regions).
7.) Could I too operate a successful tourist business of fried dough, fudge, jam, and other sugars or would I be like the putt-putt course that nobody wants to go to?
Ok, those are all of my questions for now. Here are some pictures:
 |
| Yes, there is a Titanic exhibit in the mountains. No, this is not the Ark stuck on Mt. Arrat. |
 |
| Perhaps this is why I feel so disconnected... |
 |
| In case a chicken pot pie the size of a your hand just isn't big enough... |
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Snickerdoodles
I am currently baking snickerdoodle cookies for the first time in my life. Let me tell you, the smell is absolutely amazing! Seriously. I've never been so tempted to remove baking things from the oven to eat them immediately - and this includes the many pans of brownies I've made and smelled in my life.
Snickerdoodles always remind me of one of my childhood friends, Lennie Wilson. We went to the same elementary school, the same church, and we rode the same bus. Her grandmother, Mrs. Virginia, was everyone's universal grandmother. Lennie was always intriguing to me. First of all, there was her name, Lennie. I'd never met another one, and it hasn't been until just now that I've realized it is technically the same as the guy's name Lenny - I just always thought it was exotic and foreign. She was also the only person I ever met that naturally had burgundy red hair. She and her mother both did.
Lennie introduced me to snickerdoodles by giving me some once. They were made by her and her mom and wrapped in a pretty package. I had never heard of a cookie with such a name and with that exact taste. And it was years before I ever heard of them again.
I don't know where Lennie and her mom and Mrs. Virginia are today, but I imagine that the girl I knew grew up to be pretty strong and wonderful. I'm not sure she had a choice given the women in her life.
Why have I not been making these cookies for years?
Snickerdoodles always remind me of one of my childhood friends, Lennie Wilson. We went to the same elementary school, the same church, and we rode the same bus. Her grandmother, Mrs. Virginia, was everyone's universal grandmother. Lennie was always intriguing to me. First of all, there was her name, Lennie. I'd never met another one, and it hasn't been until just now that I've realized it is technically the same as the guy's name Lenny - I just always thought it was exotic and foreign. She was also the only person I ever met that naturally had burgundy red hair. She and her mother both did.
Lennie introduced me to snickerdoodles by giving me some once. They were made by her and her mom and wrapped in a pretty package. I had never heard of a cookie with such a name and with that exact taste. And it was years before I ever heard of them again.
I don't know where Lennie and her mom and Mrs. Virginia are today, but I imagine that the girl I knew grew up to be pretty strong and wonderful. I'm not sure she had a choice given the women in her life.
Why have I not been making these cookies for years?
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Good Times Rolling
Happy Fat Tuesday! Not that I necessarily agree with the theology of the day, but I have that weakness for Southern culture and all. And baked goods. Which leads me to King Cake...
I work with a New Orleanian that goes back every weekend before Fat Tuesday and drives back with a King Cake for the office. We would love him anyway, but this makes us love him even more. This treat is the definition of gluttony. It's basically yummy krispy kreme donut/coffee cake/danish with colored sprinkles and a plastic baby.
Last week, the Washington Post published this article on King Cake. I didn't care for it very much because it made me a little mad. It basically says "this creation is not worth eating and we don't understand weird Southerners that like it, so here are our patissiere remakes". What makes me mad is the feigned superiority of it all. The truth is, even if the only King Cake you've ever had is basically the equivalent of a gas station danish or one of those cheap grocery store cinnamon rolls all shoved together in a pan and covered with white icing - you liked it. You liked it because you're a human being and pride is the only reason on earth anybody turns down a cream cheese danish. Well, pride and food allergies. The only way bread, cinnamon, cream cheese, and icing is bad is if it has been left out on the counter for days or run over with a semi, so get over yourself. And who cares if Southerners eat weird things as part of tradition? It's not like we're talking haggis here. My rant is now finished :).
I work with a New Orleanian that goes back every weekend before Fat Tuesday and drives back with a King Cake for the office. We would love him anyway, but this makes us love him even more. This treat is the definition of gluttony. It's basically yummy krispy kreme donut/coffee cake/danish with colored sprinkles and a plastic baby.
Last week, the Washington Post published this article on King Cake. I didn't care for it very much because it made me a little mad. It basically says "this creation is not worth eating and we don't understand weird Southerners that like it, so here are our patissiere remakes". What makes me mad is the feigned superiority of it all. The truth is, even if the only King Cake you've ever had is basically the equivalent of a gas station danish or one of those cheap grocery store cinnamon rolls all shoved together in a pan and covered with white icing - you liked it. You liked it because you're a human being and pride is the only reason on earth anybody turns down a cream cheese danish. Well, pride and food allergies. The only way bread, cinnamon, cream cheese, and icing is bad is if it has been left out on the counter for days or run over with a semi, so get over yourself. And who cares if Southerners eat weird things as part of tradition? It's not like we're talking haggis here. My rant is now finished :).
Sunday, March 6, 2011
A Good Hoe
My parents are farmers. The legit kind. My dad goes to his executive job during the week to buy his farm time on weekends. My mom doesn't report to work, so she uses much of her daily brain capacity to contemplate things like seed and fruit tree grafting with extreme determination.
This background is necessary to understand the significance of this story. You see, when I first moved into my home, my parents lent me a hoe. Since I am their daughter, I am rather capable with a hoe. I had no other option. Turns out, these hoe skills transfer nicely to machete skills when doing yardwork in rural Mexico - but that's another story for another time. Despite these skills, I was lost on why they chose the hoe to be what they lent. I mean, I have a very small yard. I wouldn't consider it adequate for row crops. But my parents do lots of strange things so I let it go.
Today, while sorting antique tomato seed at my parents house, we were discussing plants a friend gave me for my yard. I said I needed to plant these items in the next couple of days because she needs her shovel back by Tuesday. My mother promptly made nervous eye contact with my dad and said "But we lent you a hoe." I said "Yes, but I need a shovel to dig a good hole." Silence. My mother and my father put their projects down. Noticing this, I made it worse by saying "How do I dig a hole with a hoe?" At this, my mother closed her eyes and her shoulders fell. My dad stammered out, defeatedly, "Well, you just keep digging at it until it's big enough..."
Let me say, I've always been a good girl. My parents almost never had to correct me, and they certainly didn't have to sit me down for poor choices in high school. Therefore, this was perhaps the most disappointed in me I'd ever seen my parents. In their farming world, shovels are for fake farming city-folk unless you're planting trees of significant size or taking from a pile of manure or mulch. The skilled use of a good hoe replaces the need for a large range of tools. Later, I could have pinched myself because I knew better. And I've dug countless holes with a hoe, but they were most all holes for petunias or marigolds, single plants - not bushes, which is what I thought I needed the shovel for.
I promised to make use of the hoe in the future and then quickly changed the subject and we all moved along. Still, it stuck with me. This was the closest to an "intervention" that my parents have ever had with me. They were just that serious. On the bright side, if some mild shovel/hoe confusion is what they're most concerned about, I must be doing ok.
This background is necessary to understand the significance of this story. You see, when I first moved into my home, my parents lent me a hoe. Since I am their daughter, I am rather capable with a hoe. I had no other option. Turns out, these hoe skills transfer nicely to machete skills when doing yardwork in rural Mexico - but that's another story for another time. Despite these skills, I was lost on why they chose the hoe to be what they lent. I mean, I have a very small yard. I wouldn't consider it adequate for row crops. But my parents do lots of strange things so I let it go.
Today, while sorting antique tomato seed at my parents house, we were discussing plants a friend gave me for my yard. I said I needed to plant these items in the next couple of days because she needs her shovel back by Tuesday. My mother promptly made nervous eye contact with my dad and said "But we lent you a hoe." I said "Yes, but I need a shovel to dig a good hole." Silence. My mother and my father put their projects down. Noticing this, I made it worse by saying "How do I dig a hole with a hoe?" At this, my mother closed her eyes and her shoulders fell. My dad stammered out, defeatedly, "Well, you just keep digging at it until it's big enough..."
Let me say, I've always been a good girl. My parents almost never had to correct me, and they certainly didn't have to sit me down for poor choices in high school. Therefore, this was perhaps the most disappointed in me I'd ever seen my parents. In their farming world, shovels are for fake farming city-folk unless you're planting trees of significant size or taking from a pile of manure or mulch. The skilled use of a good hoe replaces the need for a large range of tools. Later, I could have pinched myself because I knew better. And I've dug countless holes with a hoe, but they were most all holes for petunias or marigolds, single plants - not bushes, which is what I thought I needed the shovel for.
I promised to make use of the hoe in the future and then quickly changed the subject and we all moved along. Still, it stuck with me. This was the closest to an "intervention" that my parents have ever had with me. They were just that serious. On the bright side, if some mild shovel/hoe confusion is what they're most concerned about, I must be doing ok.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Here's the recipe, yo
Ginger Apple Cookie Clouds, adapted from the Flour bakery Ginger Molassess Cookies Recipe:
(Makes about 16 cookies)
1 stick butter, melted and cooled to the touch
1/2 cup chunky or regular applesauce
1 cup packed light brown sugar
1/4 cup Golden Eagle Table syrup
1 egg
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt (I used sea salt)
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves (I used allspice because that's what I had)
Granulated sugar for coating
Mix together the butter, brown sugar, syrup, and egg on low speed for about 20 seconds or until well combined.
In a medium bowl, stir together the flour, baking soda, ginger, cinnamon, salt, and cloves until well mixed. Add the flour mixture to the butter-sugar mixture and stir just until the flour mixture is totally incorporated and tthe dough is evenly mixed.
For the best results, scrape the dough into an airtight container and let it rest in the refrigerator for 3-4 hours or overnight before baking.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place some granulated sugar in a small bowl. One at a time, scoop out 1/4 cup balls of the dough, place them in the sugar, and roll gently in the sugar to coat on all sides. Place the coated balls on a baking sheet, spacing them about 2 inches apart.
Bake for 16-18 minutes (I baked mine for 16), or until the cookies are crackly on top and just barely firm to the touch. Let cool on the baking sheet for a couple of minutes then transfer the cookies to a rack to cool completely.
(Makes about 16 cookies)
1 stick butter, melted and cooled to the touch
1/2 cup chunky or regular applesauce
1 cup packed light brown sugar
1/4 cup Golden Eagle Table syrup
1 egg
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt (I used sea salt)
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves (I used allspice because that's what I had)
Granulated sugar for coating
Mix together the butter, brown sugar, syrup, and egg on low speed for about 20 seconds or until well combined.
In a medium bowl, stir together the flour, baking soda, ginger, cinnamon, salt, and cloves until well mixed. Add the flour mixture to the butter-sugar mixture and stir just until the flour mixture is totally incorporated and tthe dough is evenly mixed.
For the best results, scrape the dough into an airtight container and let it rest in the refrigerator for 3-4 hours or overnight before baking.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place some granulated sugar in a small bowl. One at a time, scoop out 1/4 cup balls of the dough, place them in the sugar, and roll gently in the sugar to coat on all sides. Place the coated balls on a baking sheet, spacing them about 2 inches apart.
Bake for 16-18 minutes (I baked mine for 16), or until the cookies are crackly on top and just barely firm to the touch. Let cool on the baking sheet for a couple of minutes then transfer the cookies to a rack to cool completely.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Recipe success!
During yesterday's Saturday on Tuesday (to now be known as "day of sanity"), I attempted my first 2 recipes from the Flour bakery cookbook my college roomate gave me for Christmas.
The first recipe was the previously mentioned dog biscuits. And the result is, She likes them! She really likes them! In fact, my dog deemed them hide-in-the-couch worthy, which means I'll be breaking these apart and making them in much smaller sizes in the future. The first ones turned out pretty large, but the recipe intended them for special treats for folks that bring their dogs by - not for the day-to-day reward life of the average dog owner. They might not look pretty, but they are Mathilda approved:
*The recipe made many more than this.
The second recipe I attempted was for Ginger Molasses cookies. I have a very special weakness for such things. As I always seem to do, I did not follow the recipe exactly. My first substitution was Golden Eagle Table Syrup for the molasses. You must know about this stuff. It is made in my home town and the original factory was just a couple of miles from our farm (which is next-door in farm world). Last I heard, you can only buy it in Alabama stores, but you can mail order here: http://www.goldeneaglesyrup.com/. Then you will no longer be mocked by West Alabama women for daring to put Karo in your pecan pie.
I also substituted part of the butter with applesauce (chunky - because I already had an open jar in the frig), and half of the all purpose flour with whole wheat flour. I was also out of clove, so I used 1/4 tsp allspice.
This dough had to chill for at least 3 hours or overnight - which was fine with me because the dog biscuits need to remain in the oven for 8-12 hours so I couldn't bake the cookies until morning anyhow.
At first I was perplexed that the recipe said it made 16 cookies, then I read that you make the cookies 1/4 cup in size. These are big cookies. Here they are rolled in sugar and on the cookie sheet:
These did not bake flat like regular ginger cookies. Instead, they are beautiful clouds of spice. Crunchy on the outside, cakey on the inside. Delightful! This could have been because of the added applesauce and wheat flour or because of the baking soda in the recipe.
I brought them to work for sharing, but labeled them as "ginger apple cookies" in order to make the occasional chunks of apple seem totally purposeful. People went crazy for them. They were gone in an hour and I have a few recipe requests.
I will post the recipe later. I figure you'd appreciate my not posting it from memory just in case I leave out some really important ingredient that makes the cookie edible.
And I promise that if I ever get for reals about this blogging thing, then I will take better pictures :).
The first recipe was the previously mentioned dog biscuits. And the result is, She likes them! She really likes them! In fact, my dog deemed them hide-in-the-couch worthy, which means I'll be breaking these apart and making them in much smaller sizes in the future. The first ones turned out pretty large, but the recipe intended them for special treats for folks that bring their dogs by - not for the day-to-day reward life of the average dog owner. They might not look pretty, but they are Mathilda approved:
The second recipe I attempted was for Ginger Molasses cookies. I have a very special weakness for such things. As I always seem to do, I did not follow the recipe exactly. My first substitution was Golden Eagle Table Syrup for the molasses. You must know about this stuff. It is made in my home town and the original factory was just a couple of miles from our farm (which is next-door in farm world). Last I heard, you can only buy it in Alabama stores, but you can mail order here: http://www.goldeneaglesyrup.com/. Then you will no longer be mocked by West Alabama women for daring to put Karo in your pecan pie.
I also substituted part of the butter with applesauce (chunky - because I already had an open jar in the frig), and half of the all purpose flour with whole wheat flour. I was also out of clove, so I used 1/4 tsp allspice.
This dough had to chill for at least 3 hours or overnight - which was fine with me because the dog biscuits need to remain in the oven for 8-12 hours so I couldn't bake the cookies until morning anyhow.
At first I was perplexed that the recipe said it made 16 cookies, then I read that you make the cookies 1/4 cup in size. These are big cookies. Here they are rolled in sugar and on the cookie sheet:
I will post the recipe later. I figure you'd appreciate my not posting it from memory just in case I leave out some really important ingredient that makes the cookie edible.
And I promise that if I ever get for reals about this blogging thing, then I will take better pictures :).
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Saturday! Kinda.
I haven't had a "real" Saturday in a very long time. And I have a lot of personal days left untouched. Therefore, I used one today. On a Tuesday. And I wasn't sick. It was splendid. Or, it was splendid once I made an agreement with myself to not get anxious and realize that other Saturdays will exist so I didn't have to try to save the world today or feel guilty for any laziness. I only had to remind myself of that agreement twice, which I think is pretty good. Well, maybe more than twice - I forgot to mention my sister was using her off day to go take care of my mom - which made the guilt battle extra difficult. And I felt like I was lying for not telling people outside of my job that I was off that day. Ok, so maybe I need to work on this guilt thing.
Still, the day was glorious. I made homeade dog biscuits for the first time! They have to stay in the oven for 8-12 hours after baking, so I haven't taken a picture of the final product yet. But, I did sneak one out of the oven and my dog seemed to really like it - so score one for me! I see more dog biscuit making in the future.
I also raked and bagged the leaves in half of my backyard. I only did half because the sun went down, not because I'm a quitter :). Despite raking only one side, I fillled 4 black trashbags of leaves. I do not have a big yard. At all. Filling that many bags totally amazed me, and there are more leaves to gather once more of the wet leaves dry. Maybe this is normal, I don't know. This is the first time in my life that I've had leaves in need of raking, but I was shocked at how they seemed to replicate.
My dad apologized to me for not being able to take care of this for me, which was sweet, but I don't think he realized how meaningful it was for me. Aside from trimming my front hedges last week, this was the first time I'd ever worked in my yard as a homeowner. It was gorgeous outside, neighborhood children were running around and playing and squealing, I was getting some exercise - and all of this combined made me feel excited and inspired. I would have felt robbed for him to do it. (That and the fact that my dad has more than enough work of his own to do).
Still, the day was glorious. I made homeade dog biscuits for the first time! They have to stay in the oven for 8-12 hours after baking, so I haven't taken a picture of the final product yet. But, I did sneak one out of the oven and my dog seemed to really like it - so score one for me! I see more dog biscuit making in the future.
I also raked and bagged the leaves in half of my backyard. I only did half because the sun went down, not because I'm a quitter :). Despite raking only one side, I fillled 4 black trashbags of leaves. I do not have a big yard. At all. Filling that many bags totally amazed me, and there are more leaves to gather once more of the wet leaves dry. Maybe this is normal, I don't know. This is the first time in my life that I've had leaves in need of raking, but I was shocked at how they seemed to replicate.
My dad apologized to me for not being able to take care of this for me, which was sweet, but I don't think he realized how meaningful it was for me. Aside from trimming my front hedges last week, this was the first time I'd ever worked in my yard as a homeowner. It was gorgeous outside, neighborhood children were running around and playing and squealing, I was getting some exercise - and all of this combined made me feel excited and inspired. I would have felt robbed for him to do it. (That and the fact that my dad has more than enough work of his own to do).
And while looking for a decent picture of a rake, I discovered the blog called North Coast Gardening, which was kind of cute so I'll probably go back again.
Today was as perfect as a Saturday could be - a sugar free iced mocha from Heritage House, Target, finishing a good book, baking, running into friends, a good nap, and yardwork in the spring sunshine. I'm so thankful. And I highly recommend taking a Saturday on a Tuesday.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)