Fannee Doolee

I've Been Memed

Croiky!  I've been tagged by Marie Millard to respond to a meme (which is sort of a blog-version of a chain-letter, or an e-mail survey,  kind of like this one) .   Problem is, I have an unwritten policy that, with few exceptions, I boycott all chain letters, demonstration parties, memes, etc. for the main reason that I feel guilty to do some when I know I don't have the time/money/energy to do them all. 

This present meme that Nancy tagged me with is particularly problematic in that the instructions are simply to list eight random facts about yourself, then tag eight other people to do the same.   I don't know eight other bloggers to whom I could pass this on, and I'm hard pressed to think of eight random facts that are remotely interesting and which I'm willing to air publicly.  I mean, my mother reads this blog--I know she's just dying to see "#4:  The most unusual place I've "made whoopee" is . . . "  Sorry.  That one's going to have to stay between me, the honored guest and a few pigeons at an abandoned outdoor shopping mall in Texas. . . .

Anyway, in the interest of being a good sport . . . here goes:

1.  My family has a distinct fascination with bodily functions and the need to blog about them. 

2. When I was five, I had a recurring nightmare in which I was being chased by a skeleton creature that consisted of only a skull atop two bony feet.  This dream terrified me for years.  I never told anyone about it until I was in college, and within three seconds of describing this little skull-head on feet chasing me around, I had my roommates on the floor in tears of laughter.  It was almost as funny as my friend's nightmarish revelation that began, "OK.  I'm a log.  And there's a mommy log, and a daddy log, and we're all being chased by these really mean dogs."

3.  I once worked at the Kahiki, an ultra-tacky Polynesian restaurant in Columbus that has since been torn down, but somewhere frozen egg-rolls are still being produced under its name.  I was a hostess, and on certain shifts, I had to also pull duties as "the Mystery Girl" and deliver birthday cakes and flaming drinks while clad in a bikini top and grass skirt to unsuspecting patrons whose jaws dropped to see my glowing white skin illuminated by the black-lighting effects.

4.  My college roommates and I were affectionately known as "the Witches" - a reference to The Witches of Eastwick.

5.  My first job out of college was working for a non-profit arts magazine run by two crazy editors whose idea of amusement was to throw rotten fruit from our second-story window at cars in the parking lot below.

6.  My second job out of college was working at the local presenter's office for nationally touring Broadway Shows, through which I experienced face time with the likes of Carol Channing, Jerry Lewis, Robert Goulet, John Davidson, Ralph Machio, John Schneider, Petula Clark and Stephanie Powers.

7.  My mom had a huge crush on John Davidson during his That's Incredible days.

8.  I've never been to paradise, but I've been to me. 

Field Day

Well, I've officially survived my first week of stay at home motherhood (the kids have survived, too), and what better way to celebrate than by volunteering for Field Day at Logan's school.

Since this is the first year we've had a child in the public school system, this is the first time since, oh, 1983 that I've been to Field Day.  I remember relay races, high jumps, the standing broad jump (an event in which I "medaled," believe it or not) and other fairly rigorous athletic contests. 

Today's games were a bit different.  The "field" consisted of seventeen different stations, including parachutes, corn hole, a variety of creative relay races, and even a cleverly-adapted Muggle version of Quidditch.  Each class started at a station, then after 8 minutes, a bullhorn sounded, signaling the time to rotate.  Half of the parent volunteers went with the class, and the other half stayed to run the station.

I volunteered to stay with our starting activity - line dancing - with the agreement that the rotators would switch out with the stayers half way through the course.  For a straight, sweaty hour, I did the Macarena, the Chicken Dance, the YMCA and something called the Cha Cha Slide:

I wish I'd seen this video before this morning.  Even so (and despite being 5 months pregnant), I DOMINATED the field.   The other moms cheered me on as I led class after class through the motions.  As Dooce migh say, I was the Valedictorian of line dancing. 

Fortunately, I broke away from the Macarena in time to join Logan's class for the water relay activities.  We will both sleep well tonight!

And for Dinner, I'll Have the Happy Family, Egg Roll and a Fortune Cookie Big Enough to Hide In

"WOOK AT DAT MAN, MOMMY!"

"Turn around and eat your dinner, Kiki"

"HE IS EATING HIS DINNER, TOO!"

"Yes he is.  Now, let's give him some privacy."

"WHY?  IS HE POOPING?"

Almond Tart

Patrick has left me some fairly large shoes to fill (size 11W, to be exact) as the full-time parent.  Not only has he managed to establish daily routines, provide childcare and perform household maintenance, he also polished his culinary talents to impressive levels.  Seriously, how can I compete with this?

Patrick's signature dish - other than his Greek cookies ("Kholouria") that he makes every Christmas - is this beautiful Almond Tart from The Cafe Cookbook, a wonderful collection of rustic Italian recipes written by Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers, who run The River Cafe in England and who have a captivating cooking show that used to air on PBS and from which I learned the immeasurable benefit of cooking with really good sea salt. 

Patrick made this beauty last night to take to an end-of-the-year dinner for the cooperative preschool board on which he served.  He brought back about half - it's in the refrigerator right now.  Odds say it will be down to a slim quarter by daybreak tomorrow.

So, without further adieu and in full tribute to Patrick's culinary and domestic talents all around, today's Food Glorious Food post features the recipe for this wonderful dish, which I hope Ms. Gray and Ms. Rogers will not view as copyright infringement but, rather, free publicity for their many cookbooks. . . which you should go out and purchase or order through Amazon.com.

Torta di Mandorle

Almond Tart

1 ½ cups all-purpose flour

A pinch of salt

11 tablespoons unsalted cold butter, cut into cubes

½ cup powdered sugar

2 large organic egg yolks (the recipe actually specifies ‘organic’ – that’s not just Patrick being green)

Filling

1 cup unsalted butter, softened

1 cup plus 2 tablespoons superfine sugar

8 ounces blanched whole almonds

3 large organic eggs

For the pastry, pulse the flour, salt, and butter in a food processor until the mixture resembles coarse bread crumbs.  Add the sugar, then egg yolks and pulse until the mixture begins to form clumps.  Remove, flatten into a disk, wrap in plastic wrap, and chill for at least an hour until very firm.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Coarsely grate the pastry into a 12-inch loose-bottomed tart pan, then press it evenly on to the sides and bottom.  Line the pastry with aluminum foil, then dried beans.  (Yes, dried beans - I guess this is to just help it lay flat?  I don't know if Patrick has ever tried this without the beans.) Bake for 10 minutes, remove foil and beans.  Bake until very light brown, 10 minutes or more.  Cool.  Reduce the temperature to 300 degrees.

For the filing, cream the butter and sugar until the mixture is pale and light.  In a food processor, chop the almonds until fine.  Add the butter and sugar and blend, then add the eggs one by one.  Spread into the pastry and bake for 45-50 minutes, until top is golden brown (see photo above).  Cool and over with seasonal fruits.  (Patrick almost always uses strawberries, but added blueberries for the Fourth of July once).

Serves 10-12 (or really more like 20 - this thing is huge!)  Manga!

Transitions

As most of my family and friends now know, in a spur of events that has led me to significantly alter my About page for the first time since starting this blog, our family is transitioning from the Working Mom/Stay At Home Dad model to that of Working His Butt Off Dad/Stay At Home Full Time and Work Part Time to Stay Sane And Make Ends Meet Mom model.   And as much and as long as I've waited for the day to come when I could finally doff my "Esq." for the "S.A.H.M.", it's all a bit scary right now.

Reading back over my last post -Mothers' Day - just a week ago, I can't help but think it was all a rouse.  Even then, they were secretly plotting how they would bombard me with trivial dilemmas that rapidly escalate to screaming fits of such sheer magnitude that within days I will be locking myself in the bathroom and slowly peeling the skin from my face just for relief.  I comprehend why people beat their kids.  Or drink.  Or disappear. 

Yes, it's been three (3) whole days, and already I am here.  As much as I hate to write this all out publicly, I have to think that somewhere, sometime, some other moms or dads have felt or will feel this way.  Sheer Hell loves company.

Not that my kids are any less amazing, precious and dear to me than they have always been.  (Nor, as far as we know, do our kids suffer from anything more serious than typical sibling/toddler issues - albeit to behavioral extremes - but thank God they are healthy and "normal" because I don't know how I would deal with any additional challenges.)  In fact, I realize that it is because they are everything to me that the toll is so great.  It's not what they won't do, but what I can't do that cuts me to the core.

So my prayer now must be, Please God - let this be the lowest point.  Things can only get better from here.  If I made it through this day, please let me somehow make it through again, and again, and again if I have to.   Let this day be the low water mark that makes any other day that we all get through alive seem like a cause for celebration.  As I figure this out, please let there be no lasting harm to my children, for surely if I'm doing the best I can and can't be blamed for my failures, neither should they.  If they remember anything at all of this transition time in particular, let it be how much I love them, and how hard I tried to make this work.   And God, if there's a kiss and hug and an "I love you mommy" at the end of every day as there have been even for these worst of all days, that will be enough.  Amen. 

The Greatest Gift

So Lucky, originally uploaded by Fannee Doolee.

I feel so lucky this Mothers' Day.  I couldn't be more aware of the love, appreciation and support from my family, especially my children.  Click on the photo above to see more great shots in my flickr photo stream, including some truly inspiring artwork from the kids (and Patrick). 

Male Bonding

"Good Morning, Daddy!"

"Good Morning, Logan."

"I have to pee."

"I have to go pee, too."

"Oh boy!  Can we cross the streams?"

"Sure."

Better Than . . .

"Karamel Sutra?  Is that supposed to be like Kama Sutra??"

"Is it?  I didn't make that connection."

"You bought x-rated ice cream and didn't make that connection??"

"I guess I was just thinking about the caramel.  And the ice cream.  Isn't that ironic--I'm not used to this role-reversal!" 

Truth in Advertising

Alternate Title:  Exhibit B to my "All About Me" page.

The first time I ever wore maternity clothes:

Now, you're probably thinking I look tremendously younger here than you might recall me being during my first pregnancy, and at the very least, I hope some of you are scratching your head and pondering whether you ever actually saw me wearing polyester stretch knits.  The answer is no - at least not during my actual first pregnancy.  The above photo, however, was taken about seven years before that time for my one and only paid modeling job.

I was just out of college and had signed on with a local talent agency.  They barely called me in for auditions, let alone actual paying jobs.  Then, one day I got a call that a client needed someone on short notice for a fashion layout for an advertising circular.  "They know I'm a petite?" I reminded my agent.  She assured me that was fine, and told me that the client "really liked my look." 

Judging by the models they chose for the rest of the layout, I'm not so sure that was a good thing.

At least they didn't ask me to model the $1.99 Silk Panties. 

Situation: Terminal

Poor Phil.  I think in my sporadic efforts to revive him, I may have inadvertently drowned him.   He's been my constant, loyal companion at work; the least I could do was bring him home to die.  I thought I'd set him up in the dining room, where he can enjoy the early morning sun through the diffused shades, although that even might be too much light for a philodendron.   

Any gardeners out there who can give me tips on how to care for Phil in what may be his final days?