For starters, this one lasted 8 days!

On Friday, November 21 Michael and I joined a few of his colleagues in the world’s tiniest uptown apartment with the world’s most adorable weiner dog, Rascal.  There were 13 of us all total, and although there was barely enough room for all of our elbows and knees, there was an incredible spread.  The desserts were particularly impressive, including peanut butter cookies, a pumpkin roll, and a ratio of almost one pie per person!

The very next day, Michael and I joined forces with all of the Great Housemates to fill two long tables with yet another impressive buffet of Turkey Day foods.  Michael and I combined two recipes from Barefoot Contessa (despite the fact that I hate to watch her show), and made the most delicious, juicy, flavorful turkey we ate of all the turkeys I had this year.  Cameron made an outstanding corn souffle and swears it wasn’t hard to make, and I thought it was delicious until I learned that it had sour cream in it….  Nathan made his famous mac and cheese, Shun made a particularly good batch of banana puddin from scratch, and Griffin made some of the most flavorful and fluffy potatoes I’ve had in a while.  Nathan’s Emily made some yummy cranberries soaked in OJ and a bit of sugar which made a tasty after dinner treat.  My batch of Great Granny Beamer’s rolls did not rise very well, and I was beginning to feel discouraged about my abilities….but more about this in a moment.

Thanksgiving Number 3 was on Thanksgiving day with the Phelps, my mom’s folks.  Michael was able to make it again this year, but Charlotte and Justis stayed home since Charlotte wasn’t feeling too hot.  (We missed you, hon!)  For the first year ever, Pappaw was not feeling well enough to produce his usually high quality fruit stuff, but Mammaw filled that hole in my tummy with fluffy potatoes, asparagus casserole, and cranberry apple dessert.  Sadly, I controlled my portions since my tummy has been on the fritz again, but what little I ate was perfect.  We scurried on from there to visit my dad’s mom in the hospital, which wasn’t the best of circumstances, but she was lively as ever with her stories of the past.

Thanksgiving Number 4 was at home in Greensboro.  My dad made his scrumptuous from-scratch stuffing, and I was proud of how my brussel sprouts turned out.  (Even those who ordinarily turn up their noses couldn’t resist!)  My mom also gave me some pointers on how to produce the fluffiest of rolls…. and then she gave a whole set of ceramic bowls!! (Which I learned are necessary for roll success cause they keep the dough nice and warm while it rises.)  It was nice to see Aunt Amy, Uncle Steve, Sarah, Alec, and Robin, but we missed Charlotte, Justis, Leah, and of course Grandpa and Granny (still in the hospital).  At least it made me grateful for those who could be there.

Finally, we had Thanksgiving Number 5 on Saturday, November 29 with Michael’s mom.  She went all out with an appetizer tray and several entrees, but my favorite part was when she taught me how to decorate the turkey-shaped cake!  She gave me lots of great pointers, and I had a blast.  It turned out pretty well for my first try.

Part of the glory of so many Thanksgivings was plenty of opportunities of making turkey hash out of the leftovers!  Turkey hash is the kinda thing that only my dad would think to try.  You dump equal parts of chopped up turkey, leftover dressing, and leftover gravy into a saucepan.  Add a little bit of water until the whole thing looks like dog food and is warm through.  Then enjoy one of the most delightful leftover meals you can imagine.  Yum!  Seriously!

Finally, turkey-ed out, MIchael and I spent a turkey-free day with Nancy and Randy (Michael’s other mom and dad) and their three sweet dogs.  My favorite of course is Abby, a boxer who knows she’s a lap dog, despite many warnings to the contrary.  She attempted to follow the rules at least a little bit by keeping her hind legs barely touching the floor, and all of the rest of her body in my lap so that she was technically not on the couch.  Tee hee.  She kept her nose and my lap warm as we watched Son of Rambow, an adorable and strange coming of age film that you really ought to check out if you’re in the mood for a giggle.  Then Nancy, Randy, Michael, and I went for a yummy dinner at the Irish pub Ri-Ra before scooting off to a concert at Blumenthal Theatre.  We saw Mannheim Steamroller in all of it’s 1970s glory.

As a bonus, of course, my 8-day Thanksgiving was even brighter by the fact that I have no lesson planning or grading duties at the moment.  I finally got the guts to resign, and my last day was Tuesday, November 25.  It’s nice to have some time to catch up on rest, but I’m anxious to get back to work, and have begun my search for a non-French elementary position this time.  I’ll keep y’all posted.

Love to all, especially everyone involved in my best Thanksgiving ever.

Today marks the one-year anniversary of perhaps the most important moment in my life so far.  And I’m talking about a real zinger of a moment–not just one of those painfully trickled-out, life changing events like the months of process and paperwork it was to choose a college, start grad school, or work out the details of being hired to my first real job.

No, I’m talking about a year ago today when a tall, skinny, curly-haired figure resembling Tigger in demeaner bounced up to me after my first service at the Piedmont Unitarian Universalist Church in Charlotte.  I sat down to enjoy some good ol’ fashioned potluck with this man to whom I shall be forever grateful, and he invited me over to what I would later learn was called The Great House to join him and several other young Charlotte folks for dinner.  In that bizarre and wonderful moment, I decided to take a chance and try to establish a whole new group of friends in my new city of residence.  Thank you, Nathan.  Thank you for being the wonderful, friendly, open-armed, open-hearted man that you always are.  I owe you more thanks than I can possibly ever express.

“Thanks” of course because the next night at dinner he introduced me to the love of my life, whom I was able to rescue from an entirely different kind of moment.

“….Even now and then a bad one.  But if life were only moments, then you’d never know you had one.”

I had a sort of out-of-body experience on June 9 when I was on my knees in the school cafeteria conducting my troup of 3rd, 4th, and 5th graders in the graduation song for the 5th graders.  The parents were behind me in rows of folding chairs, and I had a flashback to my graduation where my music teacher was conducting us.  My dad said he would need a video of me teaching in order to believe it.  I’m not his little girl anymore.  I no longer need to sit on his lap nightly for him to untangle my long mane of curly hair.

Michael has teased me before for still calling my parents’ house “home.”  I don’t live there anymore, but I haven’t established stronger roots anywhere else.

I’ve heard the expression “home is where the heart is.”  I guess that means I have a lot of homes.  With my parents in Greensboro.  With my grandparents in Winston.  With the Yungebergs in Chapel Hill.  With my girlfriends.  With Robin.

I recently re-watched Garden State and Zach Braff has another idea about home in the way that it concerns the definition of family. “Maybe that’s all family really is–a group of people that miss the same imaginary place.”

In that sense, I also have lots of families.  Maybe Michael’s pretty smart for calling his cherished people “framily”–that is, friends + family.  My girlfriends and I miss Spencer.  Not necessarily the physical dorm, but rather the imaginary bond it created between us.

All of my wonderful imaginary places are still in the past for me.  Maybe you know you’re an adult when the imaginary place you and your framily miss is the place where you currently live.

The humongous bison head mounted on the wall seemed a bit ominous, but the marvelous mission of this restaurant soon became apparent.  We sat down to a table covered with a recycled paper table cloth, and were quickly served our drinks with thick paper drinking straws.  This place is entirely green friendly!  We then got to taste a sample of their bison pot roast and gravy, which I wasn’t sure I was cool about… until I tasted it!  Bison is apparently much like beef, yet far less fatty.  It was delicious.

I was almost unable to choose from the vast number of tempting entrees until Michael suggested that I pick the first one I’d seen and that we’d return soon to try the others.  So I enjoyed the bison pot roast and gravy with a side of  mashed potatoes and fresh sauteed green beans.  I also helped myself to a taste of Michael’s cedar plank salmon (the best salmon I’ve ever had) and Kate’s tuna.  I didn’t taste a thing that wasn’t divine!

Delicious food plus great service plus a green attitude equaled one of the most enjoyable meals I’ve had in a long time!

Then as if the night couldn’t get better, we decided to head out to Four Corners for a few drinks.  Michael grabbed us some trivia game consoles so that we could play along with the TV in the bar.  Normally (as Monica can attest after much experience), I am lousy at trivia.  However, armed with a happy attitude after dinner, I just seemed to be totally on the ball… and won the game out of all the players in the whole place!  It was quite a rush to not only discover that I wasn’t necessarily useless at trivia, but also to WIN!  This called for a celebratory drink!  Several in fact…

The company was great (TGM, Shun, Eric, Becca, Kaitlin, and AMT), the alcohol was on someone else’s tab, and I was giggly beyond all reason. 

Alright, so as marvelous as it feels to slander my entire experience as a first-year teacher, I have to admit that the few golden moments should not be overshadowed by the fact that these last few days before spring break have been some of the most miserable in my life.  I hate my job.  For now at least.

We’ve had some rainy days this week which means indoor recess, and I’m not sure how you could possibly measure who hates this condition more: the students or the teachers.  The kids go nuts, and it’s bad for all involved.  However, I decided to pull a copy of The BFG by Roald Dahl out of the trunk of my car.  (Hey–you can’t deny that this is a handy thing for an elementary school teacher to have at all times.)  I drew on some of my long unused dramatic flair to bring the book to life, and I got several kids hooked, which pretty much made my day.

Similarly on Monday I was so miserably and deliriously tired by the last period of the day (3rd grade math), that while trying to do a brief review of addition and subtraction rules for large numbers,  I randomly pulled out this crazy old Transylvanian/Italian/witch lady accent.  (I am not suggesting that there are any elderly women of this mixed origin, but more that I went with the flow, and the kids thought it was hilarious.)  Suddenly, addition and subtraction became the most interesting and engaging lesson I’d taught in a long time.  I had the absolute attention of every child, and my weakest student became very helpful as old lady Mays insisted that she was “not-a so goood with-a beeg numbers” and could she please promise me that subtraction would not be too hard.  It wasn’t.

So I guess that even with no support, no materials or curriculum that it’s possible to have fun sometimes.

Almost Vegan Cookies*

from the kitchen of Monica and Emily

1/3 cup crunchy peanut butter (if you don’t use Skippy, add extra oil for best texture)

2 Tbsp. oil

1 cup sugar

1/3 cup milk

1 tsp. vanilla

1 cup flour

½ tsp. baking soda

½ tsp. salt

1 cup oats

½ bag chocolate chips

Cream together wet ingredients (peanut butter, oil, sugar, milk, vanilla) on medium speed until smooth. Add dry ingredients and combine.  Bake on greased cookie sheets at 425˚ for 6 minutes for perfect, melt-in-your-mouth cookies. (Tbsp. sized balls work best.)

*To make this recipe truly vegan, substitute soy milk for regular milk, and use dark chocolate chips or a substitute.

Words hurt, soothe, inspire, demean, demand, incite, pacify, teach, romance, pervert, unite, divide. ~inga muscio, p.8

How will you use your words today?

Even as much as I’d like to be the perfect teacher like my aunt Mary C, I recognize that sometimes I am using words to demean and demand more so than teach and inspire, but I think that we could all stand to be more conscious about our choice of words, tone, and body language. At least if you incite/divide/hurt/etc., do it purposefully and with full knowledge. Don’t forget that words that you may mean to soothe may have a different power on the listener. I challenge you to be more aware of your receivers.

Think about it.

We (mostly I) talked for several hours about our jobs, our lives, and a few things we remembered from high school. In some ways, I felt oddly like an adult entertaining friends the same way my parents used to: madly rushing around to make the living room look presentable, then serving wine and talking loudly about boring adult stuff. On the other hand, we were eating pepperoni pizza and chocolate chip cookies…

It’s strange (and now I believe glorious) to be straddling the line between adult and youth, but LA, Gary and I did a great job tonight of enjoying the best of both worlds.

I love you two!!

The sleeping in this morning is of course grâce à (thanks to) less than 1/2 an inch of snow and now some very scary drip-droppy rain. So as my yankee colleagues laugh their asses off at us, I’m going to go back to bed and make some more fat morning.