I can remember exactly where I was and what I was doing that day. I live eight miles from our nation's capital and I grew up in Upstate New York.
On September 9, 2001, I was laying in bed with my husband and newborn baby and the phone rang. It was my mother-in-law and she said, "Turn on the news." I turned it on just in time to see the second plane crash into the second tower. I was devastated. My little brother lived in Tribeca, right down the street from there. Then, my husband's cell rang. It was my brother-in-law. He was driving through Arlington, VA just a few miles from my home through a small tunnel that passed the Pentagon. He said,"Oh my God. I think I just saw a plane crash into the Pentagon. I just came through the tunnel and there was a lot a smoke." I used to take the metro to work. I just quit my job to stay home with my new baby. The place where I would catch the train was in the Pentagon. I had probably sat next to some of the people that died that day.
When I was a little girl, my father owned a couple of businesses in New York City and when we would drive into the city my father would always say, "Look Baby. There they are (The Towers)!" You knew you were headed to the Big Apple and your adventure would be starting. They were the welcoming arms into that city.
All I can say is that I think about that time and how it affected me. I watched our President and the mayor of New York and the firefighters, law enforcement and our military and I was proud that in all of that chaos, I found strength in watching the love and pride of our nation pull together. I found a new love for my country.
God Bless us all.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Food for the Soul ... just in time to wash away the pain.
I've had an interesting week. One filled with a lot of new and old family drama which means it should be a spectacular writing week.
It's time to pick up all the piles of dirty laundry and chuck them out the door. Memories are like old clothes and I'm beginning to realize that maybe the best way to heal old wounds is by taking the junk I’ve stored away in the deep recesses of my mind and systematically go through all of it and organize it. What get’s thrown away? What do I keep? Why am I keeping it. Why have I held on to it? And why am I just finding it now after all of these years?
I had a very interesting conversation with my sister and realized that my mind had blocked out so many things that happened to me as a child. I don’t know why that happens to some people. Is it God’s way of protecting a child’s mind until they are strong enough to face things? What I do know is that for some reason, I’m seeing things clearly and am looking forward to remembering both the good and the bad things that have happened. Now let’s hope I have the courage to find my way to the wardrobe that holds the answers. I can see the light at the end of that tunnel.
It's time for something to lift the spirits. Get it right and it will be light and airy. Get it wrong and it might sink but will still be tasty in the end.
So this week’s recipe is:
GRAND MARNIER SOUFFLE with help from Cook.com
1 c. milk
4 eggs, separated
1 tbsp. Grand Marnier
1/3 c. flour
1/3 c. sugar
Dash of vanilla extract
Bring the milk to a boil. Mix flour, egg yolks, sugar and vanilla extract in a bowl. Pour the hot milk into the egg mixture while whisking it. Pour back into the pot and cook at low heat, beating with a spatula until thick and smooth.
Beat the egg whites until they almost have soft peaks, then add one tablespoon of sugar, continuing to beat until peaks form*.
Gently fold the batter into the egg whites, trying to deflate as little as possible.
Place about 2 tablespoons of the souffle mixture onto the top half of the crepes and lift lower half over it (1 fold made). Then fold again to form the crepe into quarters (second fold made.
Place them on a cookie sheet and bake them in a 400°F oven for 15 minutes.
Sprinkle some confectioners sugar over the crepes when they come out of the oven and serve.
It's time to pick up all the piles of dirty laundry and chuck them out the door. Memories are like old clothes and I'm beginning to realize that maybe the best way to heal old wounds is by taking the junk I’ve stored away in the deep recesses of my mind and systematically go through all of it and organize it. What get’s thrown away? What do I keep? Why am I keeping it. Why have I held on to it? And why am I just finding it now after all of these years?
I had a very interesting conversation with my sister and realized that my mind had blocked out so many things that happened to me as a child. I don’t know why that happens to some people. Is it God’s way of protecting a child’s mind until they are strong enough to face things? What I do know is that for some reason, I’m seeing things clearly and am looking forward to remembering both the good and the bad things that have happened. Now let’s hope I have the courage to find my way to the wardrobe that holds the answers. I can see the light at the end of that tunnel.
It's time for something to lift the spirits. Get it right and it will be light and airy. Get it wrong and it might sink but will still be tasty in the end.
So this week’s recipe is:
GRAND MARNIER SOUFFLE with help from Cook.com
1 c. milk
4 eggs, separated
1 tbsp. Grand Marnier
1/3 c. flour
1/3 c. sugar
Dash of vanilla extract
Bring the milk to a boil. Mix flour, egg yolks, sugar and vanilla extract in a bowl. Pour the hot milk into the egg mixture while whisking it. Pour back into the pot and cook at low heat, beating with a spatula until thick and smooth.
Beat the egg whites until they almost have soft peaks, then add one tablespoon of sugar, continuing to beat until peaks form*.
Gently fold the batter into the egg whites, trying to deflate as little as possible.
Place about 2 tablespoons of the souffle mixture onto the top half of the crepes and lift lower half over it (1 fold made). Then fold again to form the crepe into quarters (second fold made.
Place them on a cookie sheet and bake them in a 400°F oven for 15 minutes.
Sprinkle some confectioners sugar over the crepes when they come out of the oven and serve.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
WTF Wednesday? Back to writing down the bones.
My home needs an entire overload. I can’t continue to clean up after four other people and maintain my sanity; I woke up this morning with a million things running through my head and came downstairs to chaos. Dishes were strewn all over the family room like trash along a run down highway. The kitchen looked like chicken enchiladas had a frat party and I wasn’t invited. So, I handed the scene over to my oldest child, told her it was a lesson in sharing the load, walked downstairs and started to type.
I have decided that I will take a little time each day to write a personal journal. Hopefully through writing down the basics, I will find a way to open my mind and dig through whatever crap has been burying me from the inside out and by getting to know myself, I will get to know my characters better and teach them how to do the same thing.
There are a lot of things that are bubbling underneath the surface in my psyche and I just don’t know which hole to start digging first so I guess I’ll start from the most recent. Right this second, a chill is running up my spine and my eyes are starting to tear up. The fear of letting the emotions I’m feeling at this moment, whatever they may be, is starting to stifle me but I am going to try to write through the fear and see where it leads me.
My husband and I recently went through a tumultuous time. Not one that would lead to a breakup. I think it would take something of biblical proportions to do that. But circumstances in the lives of our children, specifically, the teens made us question ourselves as parents. We came to the conclusion that we are good parents but it took us having to ask for help to prove that. First we had to get over the obstacle that being a good parent sometimes means asking someone professional and on the outside to give you some useful tools. In the grand scheme of things, we did the right thing, I think, but it was hard. We came out of the storm a little stronger too.
Our oldest had a difficult time dealing with the prospect of growing up. It’s amazing how your teenager fights you at every turn wanting to be a grown up and when faced with the challenge of actually becoming one, they panic. It’s happened to us all even if we didn’t realize it then but when you are on the other side of it, having already done it, you fail to see the signs of fear and think of it as rebellion. I (having had a mother, well let’s just call her the mother of all mothers and leave it at that) am just glad that my maternal instinct, those feelings in our gut that we are born with and not taught, told me that it was not about me but about helping my children and that my husband was strong enough for the both of us to realize that we needed help.
Help for us came in the form of a therapeutic ranch in Utah and it came for our son and through some self-reflection while he’s been gone, it came for us as well. I wish we had known about it before our daughter reached eighteen but we did learn some tools to help her there as well. While worrying so much about the actions and lack thereof of our oldest, our son got a little lost in the shuffle which led to defiance, lack of motivation and into a descent that as hard as we tried, we couldn’t pull him up from. I remember taking him to the airport and wanting to see him off. I wanted to walk to the gate and watch him fly off even though part of me wanted to hold him and coddle him and tell him that everything would be alright only to get up to the gate and realize that the ticket agent forgot to give me a pass so I could get past security. I wanted to cry but couldn’t because I wanted to teach my son that he had the ability to go out into the world without having to have mom hold his hand. I also wanted him to know that I would be here to catch him if he fell. Funny thing is that when I got in the car that evening, I hadn’t realized that yet and I was livid at my husband because he made me do that even then I knew that wasn’t it and it took me going to visit him to realize that everything I was feeling at that airport gate was right. My instinct took over when my head screamed against it. I am so grateful for the man I married for loving our family enough to do what was needed to heal us and for my instincts for taking over when my heart was faltering.
As I sit here typing, I realize what is causing the fear and the tears to bubble up. First, it is the fear of how putting my inner most thoughts out there for the world to see might come back to bite me on the ass and yet I’m still going to do it. Then, there is the fear of digging through the emotions that led my life to where it is now and how all of that will affect my life and my writing and finally realizing that in order to get to where I want to go, I have to find where I came from and take the introvert that I strive to be and become the extrovert that I need to be in order to be a better me, wife, mother and writer.
So, let the journey continue.
I have decided that I will take a little time each day to write a personal journal. Hopefully through writing down the basics, I will find a way to open my mind and dig through whatever crap has been burying me from the inside out and by getting to know myself, I will get to know my characters better and teach them how to do the same thing.
There are a lot of things that are bubbling underneath the surface in my psyche and I just don’t know which hole to start digging first so I guess I’ll start from the most recent. Right this second, a chill is running up my spine and my eyes are starting to tear up. The fear of letting the emotions I’m feeling at this moment, whatever they may be, is starting to stifle me but I am going to try to write through the fear and see where it leads me.
My husband and I recently went through a tumultuous time. Not one that would lead to a breakup. I think it would take something of biblical proportions to do that. But circumstances in the lives of our children, specifically, the teens made us question ourselves as parents. We came to the conclusion that we are good parents but it took us having to ask for help to prove that. First we had to get over the obstacle that being a good parent sometimes means asking someone professional and on the outside to give you some useful tools. In the grand scheme of things, we did the right thing, I think, but it was hard. We came out of the storm a little stronger too.
Our oldest had a difficult time dealing with the prospect of growing up. It’s amazing how your teenager fights you at every turn wanting to be a grown up and when faced with the challenge of actually becoming one, they panic. It’s happened to us all even if we didn’t realize it then but when you are on the other side of it, having already done it, you fail to see the signs of fear and think of it as rebellion. I (having had a mother, well let’s just call her the mother of all mothers and leave it at that) am just glad that my maternal instinct, those feelings in our gut that we are born with and not taught, told me that it was not about me but about helping my children and that my husband was strong enough for the both of us to realize that we needed help.
Help for us came in the form of a therapeutic ranch in Utah and it came for our son and through some self-reflection while he’s been gone, it came for us as well. I wish we had known about it before our daughter reached eighteen but we did learn some tools to help her there as well. While worrying so much about the actions and lack thereof of our oldest, our son got a little lost in the shuffle which led to defiance, lack of motivation and into a descent that as hard as we tried, we couldn’t pull him up from. I remember taking him to the airport and wanting to see him off. I wanted to walk to the gate and watch him fly off even though part of me wanted to hold him and coddle him and tell him that everything would be alright only to get up to the gate and realize that the ticket agent forgot to give me a pass so I could get past security. I wanted to cry but couldn’t because I wanted to teach my son that he had the ability to go out into the world without having to have mom hold his hand. I also wanted him to know that I would be here to catch him if he fell. Funny thing is that when I got in the car that evening, I hadn’t realized that yet and I was livid at my husband because he made me do that even then I knew that wasn’t it and it took me going to visit him to realize that everything I was feeling at that airport gate was right. My instinct took over when my head screamed against it. I am so grateful for the man I married for loving our family enough to do what was needed to heal us and for my instincts for taking over when my heart was faltering.
As I sit here typing, I realize what is causing the fear and the tears to bubble up. First, it is the fear of how putting my inner most thoughts out there for the world to see might come back to bite me on the ass and yet I’m still going to do it. Then, there is the fear of digging through the emotions that led my life to where it is now and how all of that will affect my life and my writing and finally realizing that in order to get to where I want to go, I have to find where I came from and take the introvert that I strive to be and become the extrovert that I need to be in order to be a better me, wife, mother and writer.
So, let the journey continue.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Weekly Recipe - Food for the muse
Whilst I write this blog as food for my soul, I thought that I'd share actual food for the body. One of my favorite ways to relax myself is by cooking a really great meal. Cutting vegetables or a really nice piece of meat can be every bit as therapeutic as reading a great book or screaming to the top of your lungs. Admit it. We all need to escape from our hectic day. As a stay-at-home mom and even as a working mom, I at one time hated ...absolutely dreaded cooking. It was one more task I had to endure. Now, I realize that cooking a really great meal doesn't take as much time as I thought and if I look forward to it, not only does the food taste better but I am so relaxed afterward. It helps to have a great glass of wine and someone sexy, my husband, to talk to. Actually, hubby and I have a great time cooking together.
Well,let's get this dinner party started. This isn't hard to make and doesn't take an entire evening to make either. Prepare to dazzle your loved ones and feed your muse. It's delicious so let's dig in.
First, grab a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon and pour two glasses. Grab your favorite cd and your favorite man.
Bacon-wrapped Cornish Hens with Raspberry Balsamic Glaze
adapted from a recipe in The Gourmet Cookbook by Ruth Reichl
serves 8 from start to finish: 1 hour
Preheat oven to 450*
2/3 cup seedless raspberry jam
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
16 bacon slices (about 1 pound; I use maple-flavored. It adds flair)
4(1-1/2 to 1-3/4)Cornish hens, rinsed and patted dry; Can also used full chicken thighs
salt and freshly ground pepper
Combine jam and vinegar in a small saucepan.
Simmer briskly, uncovered, stir occasionally with whisk, until reduced to about 1/2 cup.
Glaze thicken slightly as it cools.
Put a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat to 450*F
Cook bacon in batched in a large skillet over moderate heat until translucent and pliable. Bacon has to be flexible for wrapping. (I actually save time by putting bacon in a microwavable casserole dish. Cover with paper towel and cook about 1 minute per slice)
Transfer bacon to paper towel to drain.
With kitchen shears, cut out the back bone from each hen and discard.
Halve lengthwise and season with salt and pepper.
Arrange skin side up in large roasting pan.
Brush hens liberally with some glaze and wrap 2 slices of bacon around each half, tuck ends under or pin with toothpicks
Roast, brushing with pan juices and glaze after 10 minutes and then after 20, until juices run clear when thigh is pierced. 30-35 minutes total.
Discard remaining glaze.
Bon Appetite. With food like this, you'll be amazed at what other creative ideas fill you palette.
Well,let's get this dinner party started. This isn't hard to make and doesn't take an entire evening to make either. Prepare to dazzle your loved ones and feed your muse. It's delicious so let's dig in.
First, grab a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon and pour two glasses. Grab your favorite cd and your favorite man.
Bacon-wrapped Cornish Hens with Raspberry Balsamic Glaze
adapted from a recipe in The Gourmet Cookbook by Ruth Reichl
serves 8 from start to finish: 1 hour
Preheat oven to 450*
2/3 cup seedless raspberry jam
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
16 bacon slices (about 1 pound; I use maple-flavored. It adds flair)
4(1-1/2 to 1-3/4)Cornish hens, rinsed and patted dry; Can also used full chicken thighs
salt and freshly ground pepper
Combine jam and vinegar in a small saucepan.
Simmer briskly, uncovered, stir occasionally with whisk, until reduced to about 1/2 cup.
Glaze thicken slightly as it cools.
Put a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat to 450*F
Cook bacon in batched in a large skillet over moderate heat until translucent and pliable. Bacon has to be flexible for wrapping. (I actually save time by putting bacon in a microwavable casserole dish. Cover with paper towel and cook about 1 minute per slice)
Transfer bacon to paper towel to drain.
With kitchen shears, cut out the back bone from each hen and discard.
Halve lengthwise and season with salt and pepper.
Arrange skin side up in large roasting pan.
Brush hens liberally with some glaze and wrap 2 slices of bacon around each half, tuck ends under or pin with toothpicks
Roast, brushing with pan juices and glaze after 10 minutes and then after 20, until juices run clear when thigh is pierced. 30-35 minutes total.
Discard remaining glaze.
Bon Appetite. With food like this, you'll be amazed at what other creative ideas fill you palette.
Saturday, August 01, 2009
Stepping Up The Game, Redefining Elizabeth
I found my “I am woman! Hear me roar” façade, well maybe not façade … demeanor, that’s a better word, taking a header this week. The mother’s guilt started to rear its ugly head as I looked around the house and saw the clutter piling up. It seems that the people I love haven’t quite realized how serious I am and I have let them get away with it.
“Oh, Mom will get that. I have a movie to go to and if I slip out while she’s “writing”, she’ll never notice.”
“Gee, that Playstation game is calling my name, so what if I grab a separate glass every time I grab a new beer and they pile up, Sweetie can get it once she’s done with her little hobby. I’ve worked all day and want to relax.”
I find it really hard to work around mess. I have always thought that the way your house looks reflects the chaos in your life. Well, I had a theory that I was somewhat wrong. The clutter will always be there in one form or another but the burning desire I have to write is constantly growing as well. That is why I am forcing myself into keeping the promise that I made to have and to hold my hopes and my dreams until death I do part.
My husband is quite wonderful though and is struggling through his own insecurities, although deep-seeded, by working on getting to know the woman I am becoming and by helping me find the confidence that he says I always had but am now awakening. I’m starting to like this woman that I’m becoming even if she’s carrying around a little guilt, the guilt of putting herself first for once.
So in keeping my promise and as I self reflect and redefine who I am becoming, I am kicking the clutter aside and delegating duties to others. If by teaching myself that, maybe I can leave the impressions on my kids and loved ones that sometimes to find who you are, you have to help the people around you learn that sometimes the clutter we build together has to be torn down together. Take a guilt-free vacation by asking for help and delegating duties.
“Oh, Mom will get that. I have a movie to go to and if I slip out while she’s “writing”, she’ll never notice.”
“Gee, that Playstation game is calling my name, so what if I grab a separate glass every time I grab a new beer and they pile up, Sweetie can get it once she’s done with her little hobby. I’ve worked all day and want to relax.”
I find it really hard to work around mess. I have always thought that the way your house looks reflects the chaos in your life. Well, I had a theory that I was somewhat wrong. The clutter will always be there in one form or another but the burning desire I have to write is constantly growing as well. That is why I am forcing myself into keeping the promise that I made to have and to hold my hopes and my dreams until death I do part.
My husband is quite wonderful though and is struggling through his own insecurities, although deep-seeded, by working on getting to know the woman I am becoming and by helping me find the confidence that he says I always had but am now awakening. I’m starting to like this woman that I’m becoming even if she’s carrying around a little guilt, the guilt of putting herself first for once.
So in keeping my promise and as I self reflect and redefine who I am becoming, I am kicking the clutter aside and delegating duties to others. If by teaching myself that, maybe I can leave the impressions on my kids and loved ones that sometimes to find who you are, you have to help the people around you learn that sometimes the clutter we build together has to be torn down together. Take a guilt-free vacation by asking for help and delegating duties.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Promises, promises...
In an attempt to keep a promise to myself and friends, I have decided to try my hand at blogging again in a dire attempt to drag myself out of that precarious box that I've placed myself in once again. The box that I've hidden my dreams, my hopes and my desires to make room for the dreams and hopes of others. I have and will always share some of those dreams and hopes of others with them for I share some of those same dreams as well. But since some of them have come true, like marrying the love of my life and sharing my life, there are a few private ones that I have put on hold. They are crying to be released now but fear has been holding me back.
A lot has happened in my world. My kids are growing up and through a lot of hard work, hard talks and just plain truths, they are learning that actions have consequences. I've had to grow up along with them and make some harsh decisions for them. One of which was realizing that to be a better mom and wife, I had to become a little selfish instead of selfless. I realized that if I don't fulfill my own dreams then I can't teach them to fulfill their own and that by being afraid to reach for mine, I was teaching them fear too.
How did I do that? I'm still learning as I go but for starters,I did something that I never thought I could do. I left them. No, not as in walked out the door and abandoned them but I walked out the door and left them for the very first time as mom. And though, I was only a phone call and cab ride, eight miles to be exact, away I stood my ground and took some well-deserved mom time. I grabbed my suitcase and laptop, reserved a hotel room with a king-sized bed and went to the RWA,The Romance Writers of America conference.
My dream is to be a writer and to be able to let the voices in my head out so they can tell our story. No, I'm not delusional. When you have a dream and push it to the back of you soul eventually, it comes screaming for you to pick it up like a lost child who's looking for their mother.
So, in an attempt to making my dreams come true and with the help of my loving husband and some really great friends, these are the first steps:
Writing my blog, writing my dreams, stepping out of that box, facing my fears and being the best me that I can be for the people I love.
A lot has happened in my world. My kids are growing up and through a lot of hard work, hard talks and just plain truths, they are learning that actions have consequences. I've had to grow up along with them and make some harsh decisions for them. One of which was realizing that to be a better mom and wife, I had to become a little selfish instead of selfless. I realized that if I don't fulfill my own dreams then I can't teach them to fulfill their own and that by being afraid to reach for mine, I was teaching them fear too.
How did I do that? I'm still learning as I go but for starters,I did something that I never thought I could do. I left them. No, not as in walked out the door and abandoned them but I walked out the door and left them for the very first time as mom. And though, I was only a phone call and cab ride, eight miles to be exact, away I stood my ground and took some well-deserved mom time. I grabbed my suitcase and laptop, reserved a hotel room with a king-sized bed and went to the RWA,The Romance Writers of America conference.
My dream is to be a writer and to be able to let the voices in my head out so they can tell our story. No, I'm not delusional. When you have a dream and push it to the back of you soul eventually, it comes screaming for you to pick it up like a lost child who's looking for their mother.
So, in an attempt to making my dreams come true and with the help of my loving husband and some really great friends, these are the first steps:
Writing my blog, writing my dreams, stepping out of that box, facing my fears and being the best me that I can be for the people I love.
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