Gardening and Pregnancy

I posted in the spring about my intense dislike of gardening.

However, despite the aversion, I did do some planting. And to my utter shock and great delight I am beginning to reap some harvest.




Tiny pebble-sized, hard, green balls turned in to firmly soft red tomatoes . . . little, sweet cherries . . . large, sliceable Better Bush. Wow! This is a delight!





Well, far be it for me to encounter anything in my life that I don't then sit and analyze. So, here is my analysis.

Gardening is a lot like pregnancy. It's hot and uncomfortable and your legs ache and forever and ever and ever it seems like all the work you're going through is for nothing. And then one day you deliver . . . or, uh, taste your first sweet cherry tomato . . . and you realize that all the work actually had a purpose. And now you're enjoying it. Oooh, boy, you are enjoying it! Kissing a soft baby head . . . holding large, sun-warmed tomatoes. See, exactly the same . . . kind of . . . you know.



So, if gardening is like pregnancy then I'm currently delivering. And my delicious bounty is filling me with joy unspeakable!!

I just may have to go through this again next year . . . speaking here of gardening, of course. Only of gardening.

Yolla and Marie for Lunch

Yolla, Marie and I had our lunch. And you'll be glad to know, there was no grilled cheese or tomato soup to be seen!!

I had fun planning for these two ladies from another generation. I knew they would appreciate me using my finery just for them.

So, I pulled out my china, (Oh my goodness, when is the last time I used this??!! Do you all use your china? Please tell me when and how. Give me inspiration!) and some beautiful glassware that either came from a grandmother or a great-aunt.

I covered the table with a cloth that was made by my grandmother. Truly amazing. How did the women of two generations ago have the perseverance to get through these huge, intricate projects?

My sweet friend, Danelle, had given me flowers just the day before our lunch. How timely! They were repurposed into a new arrangement in this silver, footed tea/coffee pot.

And, so, onto the menu. I decided on something safe and easy and delicious. Parmesan Chicken Fingers. I know we've all been cooking and eating these since we first found out chickens had fingers in the '80s, but if you don't have a melt-in-your-mouth, totally-awesome, company-can't-get-enough-of-it recipe, I'll slip one in at the end of the post. I've served these cold at a picnic, room temp as an hors d'oeuvres, and piping hot as a meal. Always delicious! And always served with a bowl of marinara for dipping in. Mmmmmmm!

But what to serve with it? Yolla called me the day before the lunch. Could she make and bring some tabbouleh? Could she? I tried not to sound too desperate and eager. Oh, yes, yes, please. Bring tabbouleh! She taught us how to eat it . . . Lebanese style . . . using romaine lettuce like a little boat, filling the boat with the tabbouleh, wrapping the edges of the lettuce up and around, and bringing the whole package up to your mouth like a lettuce and tabbouleh burrito. Divine. Was that the Mediterranean Sea I could hear lapping in the distance?

(Oops, horrible, blurry picture . . . sorry . . . I took it in a hurry at the table so these ladies would not think I was totally strange photographing my food. I don't think they would understand about blogs!)

Fresh South Carolina peaches and blueberries were a quick and easy, sweet and tangy addition.

And so was this sourdough, multi-grain bread from Publix. (Must try if you have a Publix near!)

We laughed and talked about children and grandchildren (theirs not mine . . . yikes!), and how to cook lentils, and Marie living in NYC during 9/11, and Yolla living in Beiruit during the 17-year war, and how they met their husbands.

And then we finished up the meal with these delights. Chocolate Chip Toffee Bars. It was an experiment. It worked! Instant family favorite. My niece calls them Addiction Bars. You must try them!

I got the recipe from this wonderful blog.

And then we sat and talked some more and Marie played the piano for us,

and Yolla showed us pictures of bombed-out Beiruit and beautifully reconstructed Beiruit and the blue, blue Mediterranean Sea that laps right up against her home city.

And then it was time to go and we hugged and knew we were friends.

We women connect like that. Different generations, different countries. But the same hands that comb our children's hair and put dinner on the table and thread a needle . . . even if it's just to sew on a button. And the same hearts that tingle while planning a wedding and worry when our children are home late and feel a forever empty ache when our husbands are gone.

We ate. We shared. We connected. It was just lovely!

Parmesan Chicken Fingers (Serves 8)

8 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves

2 cups dry bread crumbs (I use the pre-packaged Italian crumbs)

3/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese (I use, yes, the powdery kind)

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon pepper

1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley (I leave this out . . . it scares the kids)

2 garlic cloves, chopped

1 cup butter, melted

Cut each chicken breast into 4 "fingers." In large bowl combine crumbs, cheese, salt, pepper and parsley. Saute' garlic in butter. Remove from heat. Add chicken fingers and let sit for 3 minutes (I think this step MAKES it!). Dip chicken in bread crumbs and place in a 9 x 13 baking dish. Top "fingers" with more bread crumbs and pour remaining butter over all. Bake at 400 for 18-20 minutes. Enjoy!!!

Blue and Green at the Pool

I've already told you how the delightful combination of blues and greens just make my heart skip a beat! I got another green and blue thrill at the pool this past week.

I had taken my knitting with me down to the pool. Now, before you think that nominates me for most uncool mom of the year, I have to tell you that I have found the MOST wonderful way to end the day. Those children interested and I have been going down to the pool around 7:30 p.m. and staying until 8:30 or 9:00. There is almost no one at the pool. The day is ending. The heat of the day is dissipating. The splash and lap of the water is soothing. And I bring my knitting and work a few rows and then finally succumb to the pressure to "Please, Mommy, please, get in the pool!" It's lovely.

As I knitted away, relishing this feeling of utter tranquility, I looked at my yarn and needles and saw the most beautiful combination there of the metallic turquoise of the needles and the creamy pear green of the yarn.

On looking up and around, suddenly there was blue and green everywhere at the pool.

The vivid turquoise of the water,


The bright, fresh green of the grass stretching back behind the pool to the fountain,

Small flip-flops, waiting for their wearer to go slap-slap-slapping home in them,

This gorgeous towel of another pool-goer (I waited until the owner was floating face-down on a raft in the middle of the pool before sneaking over and getting this picture. I hope she didn't think I was stalking her. My children looked the other way and pretended not to know me. Another vote for most uncool mom.),

Youngest Daughter's cheerful little bathing suit.

These are good times at the pool. Calm memories, peaceful stitching, green and blue all around.

Yolla and Marie

Oh, the delightful pickle into which I have gotten myself!!

It all began with the meeting of Yolla at the pool.

Yolla walked up to me to investigate my knitting. She is a 75 year-old Lebanese woman with all the charisma and charm and warmth that I would expect from a woman of her descent. Solidly built, curly hair barely tamed, sparkling brown eyes. She lives in America 6 months of the year with her son and family here in my neighborhood.

We talked knitting . . . she learned at age 5.

We talked war . . . she lived in Beiruit through all 17 years of it, house repeatedly shelled, escaped into the mountains for safety, sent her 4 children to the U.S. for college and protection.

And then, we talked food. Lebanese food. Tabouleh and falafel . . . hummus and beef rolls stuffed with pine nuts. Of course she cooks it all. Learned that when she was 5 too. I could hardly keep swallowing fast enough.

But Yolla is lonely. Her son and family have to be away to see the wife's side of the family for several weeks.

As we were talking, I opened my mouth. I invited Yolla for lunch next week. While my mouth was speaking, my mind was throwing a fit! What are you doing inviting this maker-of-all-foods-Lebanese-and-wonderful to your home to serve her food???!!

But my mouth was not yet through. It continued on. My mouth let Yolla know that I would also be inviting my neighbor, Marie, to join us for lunch.

I will use 3 words to describe Marie.

75 year-old. Italian. Mama.

Need I say more?

She just moved to my neighborhood several years ago from Long Island, New York. This woman raised 5 children. Cannelloni, ciabatta, cavatelli . . . they flow from her hands.

What else did my mouth want to get me into? Did it want me to ring up Emeril and have him in on the party? Ask Jamie Oliver if he'd like to drop by?

Okay, deep breath. Refocus. Must keep my mind on why I'm asking Yolla and Marie over. Because I want to bring them joy. Because I want to bring them friendship. Because God's love can hardly wait to reach out its arms to strangers in our midst and the lonely. And, shoot, because these 2 ladies are such great fun.

So, I had better be getting my menu together.

Something really, really American . . . no chicken parmesan or Mediterranean tart this time. Hmmmmmm. Grilled cheese with tomato soup, anyone?

Coastal Bliss at Home

I don't think we're going to make it to the beach this year. Between camp schedules, camp-outs with friends and My Parents, volleyball tryouts and games, basketball practice, etc., this summer, we can hardly find 2 days to string together to make our annual pilgrimage to our favorite sand, sun, and cool blue water destination . . . Hilton Head Island.

So, instead of stewing, fussing, and indulging in a giant fit of self-pity, I'm bringing the beach to me. And not just for a week. No, way. The beach is coming to me for the rest of the summer.

I had to scrounge throughout the house, but between the back corners of my closet, top shelf of the pantry, and the walls of the rec room, I have found my beach.

These candle holders once decorated a child's birthday party table. A little too bright for my scene of serenity, but a little paint will fix that.

Aaaah, much better.

My beloved Grandma brought these shells to us after a trip to the Caribbean.

I found the basket I needed holding all my bathroom items . . . toothpaste, contact solution, hair clips, hand cream. A quick dump, and I had the place for my shells to live. (So sorry, Man of the House. I know you hate things dumped all over the bathroom counter. )

The basket was a dark brown metal, but a can of cream spray paint made the it more beach-friendly.

This avian pair have been around since I can remember . . . travelling from one home to another as I grew up. If you look closely, you can see gently repaired wings and necks from repeated moves and 40 years of family life.

My Mom just gifted me with them last year. I love the memories they bring and the pretty driftwood they stand on.

Now add some crackled glass votives filled with sand and a candle, light everything up, and transport myself away to coastal paradise.

Who needs 2 days of packing, sand in your hair, sunburns, and 3 days of laundry? I'm having my seaside bliss right here.

Spicy Pita Chips and Cheese

This weekend I was asked to bring an hors d'oeuvres to a special friend's birthday party. I knew just the thing. Spicy Pita Chips and Cheese.

No one wants a hot appetizer on a hot summer night. This one is cool, creamy, spicy, crunchy. It's packed with flavor from fresh garlic, oregano, chili powder, cumin, and ground red pepper.




It's usually a hit. And, sure enough, I came home with an empty platter and bowl.

You can make the dip and serve with store-purchased pita chips (yawn!). But, just saying, the recipe is MADE with the combination of the two!! Well worth the time.

Enjoy!

Spicy Pita Chips and Cheese (I doubled this for a group of 25)

Dip:
8 oz. cream cheese
1 tablespoon milk
1 clove garlic, crushed
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon chili powder
1/8 teaspoon cumin

Combine all ingredients. Sprinkle with paprika. Chill at least 8 hours.

Pita Chips:
4 pita bread rounds
1/3 cup butter, melted
1/8 teaspoon oregano
1/8 teaspoon chili powder
1/8 teaspoon ground red pepper

Separate each pita into 2 rounds. Cut each round into 8 wedges. Place wedges into large zip-loc bag. Combine remaining ingredients. Drizzle butter mixture over wedges. Seal and shake, coating wedges as well as possible. Bake in a single layer at 300 degrees for 30 minutes.

(This says "30 minutes," but I checked mine every 10 minutes or so and removed the ones that had already gotten crisp. Some of the pita pieces are very thin and crisp up quickly, some are thicker and need longer. Keep a good watch on them.)

A Notice to the Children

Good Monday morning!

I have had houseguests for the last 3 days . . . 2 children whose parents were out of town. Really good kids.

However, children can tire of each other so quickly and then you have issues. You know. So, for the last 3 days I have shuttled 7 kids to the pool, to a movie, to the pool, to the mall, to the pool. There have been pizza nights and house-wide hide and seek games, and one child has stashed all his valuable toys in piles in my room so as not to have the visitor touch them. (Yes, I'll be working on selfishness issues.)

So, this morning I find my house in chaos. And I'm not really one to mind chaos. Actually, I find it a little invigorating. However, a close inspection will reveal popcorn on the rec room floor and stuffed into the cracks of the couch, cracker crumbs dotting the rug in the Man of the House's office (So not good! This man is not invigorated by chaos!), and peanut butter and jelly in swaths on the kitchen chairs.

I have, therefore, taken steps to remedy this. I have hired Youngest Son to babysit Youngest Daughter for 3 hours, (he can still be purchased relatively inexpensively . . . and he's saving up for a really big Lego set) and I have posted the above notice.

I just hope the kids understand that dogs escaping in a neighborhood with "leash laws," a brother tickling you while holding your head under his knee, or a small child walking through your freshly painted room making soft zigzags on your wet walls with her fingers do not constitute "national emergencies."

3 hours without interruptions? We'll see how that goes! I think it's worth scrubbing bathtubs and shampooing a carpet just to find out!!