My Gratitude Chalkboard has become fodder for my family. Some of it I find amusing, some not. But a few days ago Slick wrote something on it that brought back one of my favorite memories of The Caboose.
(Cue nostalgic, pre-school music.)
When he was 3 years old, he went to a Mother’s Day Out program a couple of days a week. There was a bulletin board in the hall (where the mommies lined up to reclaim their kids) always decorated with seasonal activities. When a new project went up, all the mommies would oooh and aaah over their little one’s contribution with pride.
That fall, the Thanksgiving bulletin board went up, and each child dictated to the teacher (they were too young to write) what they were thankful for, and teacher wrote it down on the little pumpkin cutout beneath their name. The title of the board was “I am Thankful For…” (wait, now my chalkboard feels much less original).
The wall was full of pumpkins bearing sweet messages of thanks, obviously prompted by the teacher. Most of the children claimed to be thankful for their families – their parents, their brothers and sisters, a few included their pets. Some were thankful for their health (yeah, right), and a few for God. I scan the wall for my son’s pumpkin, so I can beam.
I find it, and it says, “I am Thankful for scissors.”
Huh?
At the time, he wanted to be a barber when he grew up. (Kid loved getting haircuts.) And he liked using scissors. (Probably because he had my undivided attention when using them.) So it made a little sense.
Then I thought about how this process must have gone. Teacher asks three-year-old what they were thankful for. Child looks back at teacher with a blank stare. Teacher says (nodding), “You’re thankful for your family, aren’t you??” Child nods back. Teacher moves on to next child.
Then I thought about my son. He was probably the only kid in that class who gave his own answer to that question. Even at three, my little dude saw things from his own, unique perspective. And no grown up was going to lead him elsewhere.
There’s a new Super Target near my neighborhood, and I heard through the grapevine (Facebook) that it opened a few days early AND that there were no crowds AND that they had everything in every size AND that I HAD to drop what I was doing and head over there before too many people found out and it got crowded and picked over.
So a few days ago I did just that. I roamed through every department getting the lay of the land, exploring every aisle and putting things I didn’t need in the basket. (This is starting to sound a little like the trip to Sam’s that got me to make Red Gravy, isn’t it?)
Sirloin Medallions. Yum.
As I was roaming through the grocery section (yes, they have a grocery section!) I noticed a package of steaks. Little sirloin steaks wrapped in bacon, like tiny, affordable filet mignons. I’m thinking that my kids probably wouldn’t know the difference, and probably would enjoy these affordable (and cute) steaks for dinner. (No, I’m not an impulse buyer, am I?)
Then I remembered a recipe my friend Nell from Allbritton or Nothing posted on her blog a few weeks ago for Steakhouse Steaks. She declared that cooking steaks this way at home would never make you pay big bucks for fancy shmancy steaks from the expensive steakhouse ever again. And that cooking steaks this way would make your husband want to Buy You Things. All I wanted was to get my kids to Clean Their Rooms, so I figured steaks from Target would be good enough. In the basket they went.
They were cute little sirloin medallions, wrapped in bacon, three to a skewer. I grabbed three packages and headed for the cashier. I hurried home to made Nell’s Steakhouse Steaks. My kids made yummy noises during dinner and asked me to make it again.
They did not, however, clean their rooms.
*I recommend you hop over to Nell’s site and read her narrative accompanying the recipe. You’ll probably find her more almost as amusing as you find me. (Wink.)
Nice, thick steaks* (1 ½ to 2 inches thick is perfect)
Olive oil
Kosher or sea salt (regular table salt will make the meat tough, or so someone says)
Butter
Minced garlic
*Let the steaks sit out for about an hour before cooking to bring them to room temperature.
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Rub the steaks with olive oil and salt. Turn on your stove vent, open a window, and remove the smoke alarm.
(I really need a new camera.) I used Sirloin medallions from Super Target to feed my brood. I'm sure real filets would have been better!
Heat a cast iron skillet on medium-high for 5-7 minutes (until it starts to smoke). Sear the steaks evenly on both sides, no more than 2 minutes per side. Transfer the steaks to a pre-heated foil-lined pan (for easy clean-up). Put a pat of butter and a smidgen of minced garlic on each steak and put them in the oven.
Getting the steaks cooked to the desired doneness is the hard part. You can use a meat thermometer for precise results or use my mama’s method (pulling them out and cutting one open to check). When they’re ALMOST done the way you like them, remove them from the oven, and cover them with foil. This helps the meat “set” and fills your kitchen with the most amazing aroma. It will draw a crowd if you opened a window.
About 8 minutes in the oven will give you a medium-rare steak. About 10 minutes for medium.
There must be a glitch in the space-time continuum, because there’s no way on earth it can possibly be July 20th. Two months of summer are behind us, which can only mean one thing. And I’m not ready for that one thing.
As I’ve said before, during the school year we have to be pretty structured. Our schedule is busy, and great distances often lie between events, requiring Mom’s Taxi Service to run from morning til night. It’s hard sometimes to keep my calm and sanity, rendering me Not So Agreeable. So Being Agreeable About Things has been a top priority for me lately.
I’ve tried really hard this year to make this a “good” summer for the boys. I’ve let them sleep late (otherwise they’re crabby), eat on their own schedule (otherwise they’d starve), hang out with friends til the wee hours of the morning (otherwise they’d be social outcasts). There’s been far too much video gaming, far too little reading, and their rooms – oh, I don’t even want to discuss their rooms.
We’ve had lots of day trips to the beach, The Caboose has had lots of friends at our house, Slick has spent a lot of time at his friends’ houses (the ones who don’t have little brothers).
There has been very little yelling, and I actually watched an ENTIRE MOVIE in one sitting in my own home. It’s been quite pleasant.
The Caboose made a comment a few days ago about my Agreeable-ness. He was quite surprised when I offered to take him to Chick-Fil-A (his fav!) for lunch, even though we were nowhere near Chick-Fil-A. I’m just hoping the lesson isn’t lost on them when I have to resume my other persona.
Alas, I now have the feeling that the end of Being Agreeable is near. There are, in fact, books to read, summer work to be completed, and Doc Martens to be found in a size that I don’t think Doc Martens come in. In other words, I’ve got to get my game on.
So if you hear the screaming from afar, don’t worry, it’s just me. Because these boys have gotten a case of The Lazy this summer. And while it’s been fun getting there, it’s probably going to be ugly getting back.
The secret’s out. We do things a little differently here in New Orleans. Usually bigger, louder, and with a hell-of-a party at the end. So when I heard about the Running of the Bulls, NOLA style, I knew Mr. Wonderful and I had to be a part of it.
Officially, the Festival of San Fermin in Nueva Orleans, NOLA’s Running of the Bulls is a little different from the centuries-old event in Spain you may have seen on the news this week. It starts off with the traditional procession featuring the statue of San Fermin, the patron saint of Navarre, who is rumored to have met his death by the horns of a bull on the streets of Pamplona in the fourth century. But our version differs from the traditional after that.
Our “bulls” are roller derby girls, clad in red and black with horned helmets and baseball bats. They roll through the streets amongst the runners, shrieking and swinging their bats. It’s one of those things that you really can’t explain. You have to be there.
We started our day early, pulling out of the driveway about 6:30 a.m. By 7:00 the crowd was already thousands-deep. Some had coffee, others Bloody Marys (blood being the theme of the day), and the purists had their beer. The bulls were tightening up their skates and straightening their fishnets, while the runners roamed the area seeking friends and photo ops. It was surreal.
Me and my peeps getting ready for the big event!
At 7:30, the formal procession began, with the statue of San Fermin carried through the streets accompanied by musicians and hordes of the “faithful.” As his procession concluded, the announcer called for the line-up.
The procession begins.
"Making the way" for San Fermin.
The Encierro (bull run) is led NOLA-style, by the Krewe of the Rolling Elvi. (Yes, the plural of Elvis is Elvi.) As they blaze the one-mile trail thousands of runners follow behind, waiting for the release of the bulls from one of the three “bull pens” along the route. When the bulls hit the pavement, the casual pace turns frantic as runners hear the bulls coming up behind them, and the sound of the bats striking (and I do mean striking) is immediately followed by yelps from the runners. The first couple of strikes let you know exactly what you’re in for, and gives you the chance to make the decision whether to remain in the street or seek refuge on the sidewalk. I chose the former. (No regrets.) I did skip the gauntlet at the end, though. (Maybe next year.)
Bull Pen at Line Up
The media reports said 10,000 people participated!
The Krewe of the Rolling Elvi led the run.
Some of the bulls took their roles with a bit of humor. Others took it very seriously. About 1 in 10 “whacks” was delivered with a vengeance. I understood fully the sign announcing that we were to “run at our own risk” once that first serious blow struck my hind quarters.
Big Easy Roller Girl!
Whack!
At this point, you may be asking “Why?”
To that, there is only one response, “¿Por qué no?”
It was, without a doubt, one of the longest and most fun miles of my life! Accompanied by my BFF Elena, (our husbands and Elena’s firstborn left us behind) I experienced a strange explosion of fear, excitement, and chaos, wrapped up in adrenaline. Words can’t describe it. So here are a couple of videos:
The first video was professionally produced, and is worth the 10-minute investment to watch. It tells the story well.
The next video was taken by a cell phone, so its quality is less impressive, but it was taken by my BFF’s son Ryan, and makes you feel the chaos. One of the shouts you will hear is Mr. Wonderful.
As with all things, there is something to be learned. Never attempt to block a bat being swung at your backside with your hand. There are no bones in your backside, and it can survive a blow better than a hand. (I drove myself straight to the Urgent Care Clinic after the party for an x-ray. Hairline fracture. Well worth it!) Mr. Wonderful took one on the thigh.
Mr. Wonderful's battle scar.
As El Padrino announced from the balcony of Ernst Café before the start of the event, “New Orleans ain’t for the normal.”
So if you feel the need to experience this unique event next July, give me a shout. I’ll bring the sangria.
They’re irritating and overused. Like the sound of fingernails of a blackboard, I cringe when I hear them. We’ve all got a few on our personal lists, but there are a handful that are universally accepted as obnoxious. Annoying phrases are everywhere.
Source: universecityblog.wordpress.com
I know I’m not the only one who wishes many of these phrases and words would go away. I know there are others like me out there who long for a return to a more genteel manner of speaking. (Now, I don’t want to swing to the opposite extreme. I don’t need to ask my son “with whom he will be going to the movies.”) But I would embrace the renaissance of a few polite and well-mannered phrases to replace some of the ones I feel just have to go.
The number one offender:“(I/she/he) was like.” Attention teenagers: this is not a verb phrase. If you want to describe what someone says, does, or feels, there are verbs for that purpose. Please learn how to use them.
Fusion words: combining two words, then dropping a syllable or two because you’re too lazy to say the whole thing. “ ‘Sup?” is the number one offending word in this category, but there are many, many more. “Dja-eat?” (“Did you eat?”) If the statement or question requires two words, please speak them both. Having a conversation reduced to a few grunted syllables is just rude and makes you sound like a cave man.
Overuse of the word, “Whatever.” This non-committal word usually means the responder disagrees with what you’re saying, but doesn’t have the energy or vocabulary to respond appropriately. Parents, beware. It does not imply agreement. It’s a verbal tool teenagers use to stop a conversation.
Interrogative words: What happened to them? Questions should begin with words like how, may, why, or did. Raising the pitch at the end of a phrase and inserting a question mark does not constitute a question. (“You went to the store?”)
The dreaded “No offense, but…”This phrase should just be stricken. No good can come of anything said after that phrase. This disclaimer does not give you license to say rude or ugly things, just because you’ve preceded the insult with a feigned politeness. Using the Southern cousin, “Bless his/her heart”(as in, “My aunt is crazy, bless her heart.”) after a put-down is just as offensive. Don’t do it.
Now, I realize that language is an evolving entity. Today’s vernacular is significantly different from that of just a few decades ago. Therefore — as with all things – this, too, shall pass. I just hope I live long enough to hear it happen.
For now, if you see me around and want to chat, avoid these phrases. Speak in complete sentences and leave out some of the slang. Let your language bear some resemblance to the mother tongue we learned in school. Please talk nerdy to me.
Which phrases make your head spin? Please share if I’ve left out the one that makes your head spin!
Coming soon: Part 2 – Nerdy words, and how to use them.
Lisha Writes 