I've never liked football. In fact, I've pretty much always avoided the sport. I've always wondered why I was so different than all of my friends, especially being that I am from Pittsburgh, one of the most football crazy towns in the United States. I'll go so far as to say I've felt downright un-American at times.
Today we were invited to our friends, Brian and Katie's house, to watch the Superbowl. I've done this before, but I go simply for the food and camaraderie, and maybe the commercials. I had particularly low expectations for tonight's game, especially since the Steelers were taking a break this year. (I actually watched a few minutes of the Superbowl last year, placed a bet and won $9.00! Pure lucky break.) Tonight I came prepared with my stash of card games and a book in case football fatigue struck. I was actually pretty excited to play a few hands of Five Crowns.
Here's where my story gets strange. For no apparent reason, I actually watched the whole game. I know! Really strange behavior on my part. And, not only did I watch the game, but I kind of, sort of, understood it. This is MAJOR! A first for me! All of the sudden I feel a little more American. I watched an entire game of football... and I'm considering doing it again sometime.
So, when do these games start up again?
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Things I’m Learning About Nepal
As you may know, Gideon and I are planning a month-long trip to Nepal. We leave at the end of this month and stay until the end of March. This trip to Nepal seems to be ordained. Gideon’s cousin Amy, her husband, Mike, and their son, Ethan, moved to Nepal from Maryland this past June. Mike is working for the State Department in Kathmandu, or something along those lines. Of course, when we caught wind of their plan to live in Nepal for a few years, we knew we’d do all we could to get over there for a visit. Additionally, we have met a number of Nepalese folk right here in Sonoma, California. The majority of the staff at Meritage, Polly’s restaurant, are from Nepal. Polly’s co-manager, Nima, has become a good friend and he is heading back to Nepal for a visit with family and friends in March as well. Being a Sherpa, he has offered to lead us on a trek to Mt. Everest base camp. Let me repeat that; we will be trekking to BASE CAMP. We are NOT climbing Everest. I just wanted to make sure we get that straight. So, not only do we find ourselves with a number of unlikely connections in Nepal, but we also happen to have the time to go during this break from our work-a-day life. As soon as Gideon takes the California Bar, we are off to Kathmandu.
In preparation for our upcoming adventure, I have been reading the Lonely Planet Guide to Nepal. Here’s a list of a few interesting things I’ve learned so far:
1. Nepal is a diverse country populated by a number of ethnic groups. Sherpas are a well-known ethnic group from the mountains of eastern and central Nepal. Tamangs are another large ethnic group in Nepal. Despite what you may think, most mountain porters in Nepal are Tamang; Sherpas “focus mostly on high-altitude expedition work”.
2. According to the latest census (2001) Nepalis are about 81% Hindu, 11% Buddhist, 4% Muslim, and 4% other religions.
3. It’s considered bad luck to start a trek on a Tuesday or to return on a Saturday. Got that, Nima?
4. “If you are given a wrong direction or told a place is much nearer than it turns out to be, it may through fear of disappointing you.” Hmm… I’ll keep that in mind when Nima tells us it’s only a few miles to the next town.
5. I may be treated to jan-la (raw steak with the skin still attached), ti-syah (fried spinal bone marrow), or swan-puka (“lung filled through the windpipe with spicy batter and then boiled, sliced, and fried”). I will give bizarre food guy, Andrew Zimmern, a run for his money. Or maybe not.
6. And here is the last little tidbit of the day. This one really got my attention. The video below shows planes taking off and landing in Lukla, Nepal. Gideon and I will be flying from Kathmandu to Lukla where we will start our trek. The video has made me think that maybe I should stop researching. Sometimes knowledge is a scary thing. At least they have a sense of humor about things…
In preparation for our upcoming adventure, I have been reading the Lonely Planet Guide to Nepal. Here’s a list of a few interesting things I’ve learned so far:
1. Nepal is a diverse country populated by a number of ethnic groups. Sherpas are a well-known ethnic group from the mountains of eastern and central Nepal. Tamangs are another large ethnic group in Nepal. Despite what you may think, most mountain porters in Nepal are Tamang; Sherpas “focus mostly on high-altitude expedition work”.
2. According to the latest census (2001) Nepalis are about 81% Hindu, 11% Buddhist, 4% Muslim, and 4% other religions.
3. It’s considered bad luck to start a trek on a Tuesday or to return on a Saturday. Got that, Nima?
4. “If you are given a wrong direction or told a place is much nearer than it turns out to be, it may through fear of disappointing you.” Hmm… I’ll keep that in mind when Nima tells us it’s only a few miles to the next town.
5. I may be treated to jan-la (raw steak with the skin still attached), ti-syah (fried spinal bone marrow), or swan-puka (“lung filled through the windpipe with spicy batter and then boiled, sliced, and fried”). I will give bizarre food guy, Andrew Zimmern, a run for his money. Or maybe not.
6. And here is the last little tidbit of the day. This one really got my attention. The video below shows planes taking off and landing in Lukla, Nepal. Gideon and I will be flying from Kathmandu to Lukla where we will start our trek. The video has made me think that maybe I should stop researching. Sometimes knowledge is a scary thing. At least they have a sense of humor about things…
Friday, February 5, 2010
Jon finds us again
We have this good friend, Jon. He's really good at finding us where ever we go. We move over and over again, and he keeps showing up, looking for a good time. Well, we like him a lot, so we always invite him to stay awhile, and we show him around our new stomping grounds. Jon showed up in Sonoma a few days ago, so off we went to some more wineries.
St. Francis Winery is a few miles up the road and has perhaps one of the more beautiful settings and tasting rooms. I discovered their "Wild Oak" series and stocked up on their Syrah, Merlot and Cab. Jon discovered their crisp Sauvignon Blanc and realized that he liked white wine after all.
Next we headed to Healdsburg, a pristine wine growing region just north of us. Healdsburg has a fascinating history that involves my step-family, but that is a tale for another day. In Healdsburg, we visited Quivira, a winery and vineyard that is dedicated to sustainability and green practices. What a cool place! And what great wine. I picked up some fantastic Zinfindels and a Grenache.
Check out the cool gardens they have around the tasting room. We were impressed with the garden's psychedelic colors even in the dead of winter.
They also had pigs.
They had on their funky winter coats too.
After our Quivera, we checked out the oh-so-quaint town of Healdsburg, stopping at Powell's Candy Store for some incredible gelato, just before heading back to Sonoma for another outrageously yummy dinner at Meritage. As always, it was great to see our buddy Jon. We know a good time is guaranteed whenever he shows up. And we know he'll keep showing up, and that's what we love about him.
St. Francis Winery is a few miles up the road and has perhaps one of the more beautiful settings and tasting rooms. I discovered their "Wild Oak" series and stocked up on their Syrah, Merlot and Cab. Jon discovered their crisp Sauvignon Blanc and realized that he liked white wine after all.
Next we headed to Healdsburg, a pristine wine growing region just north of us. Healdsburg has a fascinating history that involves my step-family, but that is a tale for another day. In Healdsburg, we visited Quivira, a winery and vineyard that is dedicated to sustainability and green practices. What a cool place! And what great wine. I picked up some fantastic Zinfindels and a Grenache.
They also had pigs.
They had on their funky winter coats too.
After our Quivera, we checked out the oh-so-quaint town of Healdsburg, stopping at Powell's Candy Store for some incredible gelato, just before heading back to Sonoma for another outrageously yummy dinner at Meritage. As always, it was great to see our buddy Jon. We know a good time is guaranteed whenever he shows up. And we know he'll keep showing up, and that's what we love about him.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Let's talk about ice cream!
Yes, I thought that might get your attention.
Gideon and I are on a serious mission. We are researching ice cream shops. And chocolate candy shops. And cupcake shops. And all shops yummy and sweet.
Today we had the opportunity to stop at a famous ice cream shop in Berkeley, California, called Ici. Ici is French for "here". I thought that was a strange name at first, but the reason for the name is that all of the sweets and ice creams are made daily, there at the store. They specialize in making unique ice cream flavors with fresh, all local ingredients. Here's run down of some of the flavors they had waiting for me today: coconut rum, honey lavender, Meyer lemon mint, cinnamon pecan, chocolate caramel, champagne grapefruit, mango passionfruit sorbet, blood orange, and a few more I can't remember. All I have to say was that it was a real challenge to choose only two flavors. I chose chocolate caramel and honey lavender; both were out of this world, crazy good. I wanted to cry and sing, it was so yummy! And I think I did cry when it was all gone.
Look how cute Ici is.
I know you smirked when you read that we are "researching" ice cream shops. Well, it's true, we really are because we are kicking around the idea of opening our own ice cream and sweet shop some day. It's a big idea right now, but one we are seriously considering.
So, here's where I need YOUR input. Tell me your thoughts on ice cream and sweets. What is your favorite ice cream flavor? What are some unique flavors you've heard of or tried? Do you prefer ice cream or gelato? What do you look for in a ice cream or sweets shop? What's your most memorable ice cream shop experience? Tell me your deepest feelings, hopes and desires about ice cream. For your feedback I will give you as many free ice cream cones as you could ever want when we open our own shop one of these days. :)
P.S. Here's a link to Ici's website: http://www.ici-icecream.com/index.html
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
All in a day's walk
One of our favorite things to do up here on the Hill is to go hiking through the woods. Usually these walks are initiated by Gideon who gathers the dogs, looks them in their puppy eyes and says, "Who. Wants. To. GO ON A WALK?!" The dogs are whipped into an instant and utter frenzy. They start jumping on top of each other, biting each other, whining and barking, as they try to claw their way out the front door. It's highly entertaining for us humans.
Off we go, either up the hill to the lookout points, with views to the San Francisco Bay on a clear day, or down the hill to "The Ranch", where Aaron grew up and where his Aunt Jeanette and Uncle Teddy still live.
Yesterday, we decided to go towards the Ranch. Polly joined us as well since she had the day off. One great thing about going to the Ranch is that we can pick up fresh, organic, cage-free eggs gathered from the dozens of Ranch hens. They are yummy and colorful.
Gideon also fills his pockets with Meyer lemons picked from the trees by the one of the Ranch houses. They smell so amazing--unlike anything you'd smell at the grocery store. And they look just plain lovely too.
Another bonus of the Ranch walk is that it takes us past some of Gideon's best Chanterelle mushroom spots. Being that it's been pretty rainy lately, we had a feeling that we might have some luck, but no one expected that Gideon would find the mother load of Chanterelles. Check these babies out!
Now excuse me while I go eat my Chanterelle omelet.
Off we go, either up the hill to the lookout points, with views to the San Francisco Bay on a clear day, or down the hill to "The Ranch", where Aaron grew up and where his Aunt Jeanette and Uncle Teddy still live.
Yesterday, we decided to go towards the Ranch. Polly joined us as well since she had the day off. One great thing about going to the Ranch is that we can pick up fresh, organic, cage-free eggs gathered from the dozens of Ranch hens. They are yummy and colorful.
Gideon also fills his pockets with Meyer lemons picked from the trees by the one of the Ranch houses. They smell so amazing--unlike anything you'd smell at the grocery store. And they look just plain lovely too.
Another bonus of the Ranch walk is that it takes us past some of Gideon's best Chanterelle mushroom spots. Being that it's been pretty rainy lately, we had a feeling that we might have some luck, but no one expected that Gideon would find the mother load of Chanterelles. Check these babies out!
Now excuse me while I go eat my Chanterelle omelet.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Me and my big ideas
I just had a thought and instead of sitting and thinking about it for a day or two, I'm just going to go with it.
Here's my idea: I am going to write a blog entry EVERY SINGLE DAY this month, just as a challenge to myself. Just to see if I can do it. And because that's what real bloggers do--they write every day, right? Instead of reasoning the feasibility or wisdom of the idea, I'm just going to put it out there for the world to see. I'm catering to my impulsive self and I may be slapping myself for it this time next week. Lucky for me, I had this idea on the first day of February, which just so happens to be the shortest month of the year. Lucky break.
So, what does this mean for you, dear reader? Let me break it down to you:
1. My entries may not be as polished as I like them to be. There might be more typos... eeeek... than I, or any of us are comfortable with.
2. My entries will probably be shorter. Hush. I heard that sigh of relief.
3. I will shamelessly use photos to take up space and create quick entries if necessary. But I'll make them fun.
4. I might have to get, um, serious, from time to time. I might not be so fun and lighthearted, because, brace yourself, I am not fun and lighthearted every single day. Just ask my darling husband.
5. I may get desperate for encouragement. A comment on my blog sends me over the moon and will keep me writing to get more ego strokes. I'm even kicking around the idea of sending baked goods to some randomly selected commenters... I make some mean baked goods too.
So, there you have it. And looky here... I already have two days down!
Here's my idea: I am going to write a blog entry EVERY SINGLE DAY this month, just as a challenge to myself. Just to see if I can do it. And because that's what real bloggers do--they write every day, right? Instead of reasoning the feasibility or wisdom of the idea, I'm just going to put it out there for the world to see. I'm catering to my impulsive self and I may be slapping myself for it this time next week. Lucky for me, I had this idea on the first day of February, which just so happens to be the shortest month of the year. Lucky break.
So, what does this mean for you, dear reader? Let me break it down to you:
1. My entries may not be as polished as I like them to be. There might be more typos... eeeek... than I, or any of us are comfortable with.
2. My entries will probably be shorter. Hush. I heard that sigh of relief.
3. I will shamelessly use photos to take up space and create quick entries if necessary. But I'll make them fun.
4. I might have to get, um, serious, from time to time. I might not be so fun and lighthearted, because, brace yourself, I am not fun and lighthearted every single day. Just ask my darling husband.
5. I may get desperate for encouragement. A comment on my blog sends me over the moon and will keep me writing to get more ego strokes. I'm even kicking around the idea of sending baked goods to some randomly selected commenters... I make some mean baked goods too.
So, there you have it. And looky here... I already have two days down!
Monday, February 1, 2010
So I think I can dance!
I was not one of those sweet little girls who took jazz/tap/ballet growing up. Alright, I take that back. There was that time when I was in kindergarten. Mom enrolled me in ballet. My only memories of that experience involve the end-of-the-year ballet recital. It involved a yellow tutu, gold sequins, a missing head piece, and bright yellow ballet slippers that were SUPPOSED to be GOLD--shiny, shimmery, metallic gold. Not dandelion yellow, Mom and Dad. And that missing headpiece... well, the yellow Kleenex Mom bobby-pinned to my head was a nice try.
Oh, and then there was that time when I was 16 and decided to sign up for jazz and ballet along with my little sisters, Rebecca and Myra, who were 9 and 7 at the time. Apparently there were no "beginners" classes for 5'9" sixteen year olds. So, yes, I was put in the same class as my wee sisters. There was nothing pretty about that. Just imagine the recital--me, being the tallest dancer in the class, smack-dab in the middle of the stage, surrounded by little munchkins in matching costumes. It was horrifying. Maybe that's why I can still remember most of the dance we performed--a little trauma will do that to you.
That leads me to my time in musical theater. I could sing; I could act; but everyone knew I needed individual, intensive instruction to figure out the dance steps. My M.O. was to distract the audience with inane facial expressions during dance numbers.
Dancing with friends at dance clubs earned me my own special space on the dance floor. Not the kind of "Wow, who's that hot dancing chick?" space; it was more like "Wow. Let's give her some space so no one gets hurt" kind of space. I also earned the nickname "Uma", because apparently I channeled Uma Thurman's moves from Pulp Fiction or something. I don't think that was a good thing.
One last dancing memory involves my stint with Franklin Footlight Theatre in New Hampshire. When I got it into my head to audition for their production of "Chicago", I was filled with dread, knowing that the show would be dance-intensive. I knew I could not blow the audition by letting my nerves get the best of me. I here and now admit to smuggling a small flask of vodka into the audition and shooting it down fifteen minutes before the dance audition. It did the trick and I was cast in Chicago, and I danced my arse off throughout the entire production.
Despite my lack of talent, my adult dancing experiences have always filled me with joy. When I dance, I am transported to my own private world. Good dance music flows through me, and no matter how my body interprets the beats, my mind and spirit FEEL IT.
This leads me to my new favorite dance thing in life: ZUMBA. Have you heard of it? Have you tried it? It's the latest, greatest exercise fad to sweep gyms across America. Zumba is a Latin/World music dance class that happens to work your body like no other cardio workout I know of. "Ditch the workout, join the party!" is the official tag line of Zumba. I first heard of Zumba through my sister, Rebecca, who has absolutely raved about it for the past year. When I discovered that my gym here in Sonoma holds three weekly Zumba classes, I decided to give it a whirl. Well, I am smitten--with the class and with my instructor, Lauren, quite possibly the most incredible dancer I have ever seen. I am that girl who still requires a bit more space than the average participant, and I am the girl that has the exuberant, partially spaced out Cheshire Cat grin on her face through the entire class. But Zumba (and Lauren) have finally proved something to me: I CAN dance! And I LOVE it!
Here's a funny aside to add to my reputation of being "that girl" in Zumba. Last week, Polly delivered a full meal from her restaurant to me IN CLASS. She had told me earlier in the day that she would meet me after class to give me food to take home to the boys. She was early, so she decided to drop the bag of food off for me. She peeked in the door of the classroom, made eye contact with me as I danced in the far corner of the room, and set a huge brown bag right by the door. Of course, no one near the door knew who Polly was or what she was doing, or for that matter what was in the bag. It was suspicious behavior to say the least and there were murmurs: "What's in the bag that? Is it a bomb?" In no less than 30 second, the entire classroom was absolutely overwhelmed by the aroma of gnocchi with white wine mushroom sauce, olive tapenade, and homemade bread. "It's worse than a bomb!" screamed Lauren, the instructor, "It's dinner!" The roomful of 45 Zumba-ers instantly lost all concentration, started dripping drool and running into each other. "Oh, that," I sheepishly eked, "Sorry about that. That's just my dinner," as I whisked the bag out to the front desk. Yeah, I'm that girl. The girl who gets dinner delivered to her at Zumba. Nice.
Here are some very blurry shots from a special Zumba Winterfest event I attended on my own a few days ago. I only had my little point and shoot camera with me, but I hope the shots give you a little feel for the fun I am having with my latest dance craze.
Oh, and then there was that time when I was 16 and decided to sign up for jazz and ballet along with my little sisters, Rebecca and Myra, who were 9 and 7 at the time. Apparently there were no "beginners" classes for 5'9" sixteen year olds. So, yes, I was put in the same class as my wee sisters. There was nothing pretty about that. Just imagine the recital--me, being the tallest dancer in the class, smack-dab in the middle of the stage, surrounded by little munchkins in matching costumes. It was horrifying. Maybe that's why I can still remember most of the dance we performed--a little trauma will do that to you.
That leads me to my time in musical theater. I could sing; I could act; but everyone knew I needed individual, intensive instruction to figure out the dance steps. My M.O. was to distract the audience with inane facial expressions during dance numbers.
Dancing with friends at dance clubs earned me my own special space on the dance floor. Not the kind of "Wow, who's that hot dancing chick?" space; it was more like "Wow. Let's give her some space so no one gets hurt" kind of space. I also earned the nickname "Uma", because apparently I channeled Uma Thurman's moves from Pulp Fiction or something. I don't think that was a good thing.
One last dancing memory involves my stint with Franklin Footlight Theatre in New Hampshire. When I got it into my head to audition for their production of "Chicago", I was filled with dread, knowing that the show would be dance-intensive. I knew I could not blow the audition by letting my nerves get the best of me. I here and now admit to smuggling a small flask of vodka into the audition and shooting it down fifteen minutes before the dance audition. It did the trick and I was cast in Chicago, and I danced my arse off throughout the entire production.
Despite my lack of talent, my adult dancing experiences have always filled me with joy. When I dance, I am transported to my own private world. Good dance music flows through me, and no matter how my body interprets the beats, my mind and spirit FEEL IT.
This leads me to my new favorite dance thing in life: ZUMBA. Have you heard of it? Have you tried it? It's the latest, greatest exercise fad to sweep gyms across America. Zumba is a Latin/World music dance class that happens to work your body like no other cardio workout I know of. "Ditch the workout, join the party!" is the official tag line of Zumba. I first heard of Zumba through my sister, Rebecca, who has absolutely raved about it for the past year. When I discovered that my gym here in Sonoma holds three weekly Zumba classes, I decided to give it a whirl. Well, I am smitten--with the class and with my instructor, Lauren, quite possibly the most incredible dancer I have ever seen. I am that girl who still requires a bit more space than the average participant, and I am the girl that has the exuberant, partially spaced out Cheshire Cat grin on her face through the entire class. But Zumba (and Lauren) have finally proved something to me: I CAN dance! And I LOVE it!
Here's a funny aside to add to my reputation of being "that girl" in Zumba. Last week, Polly delivered a full meal from her restaurant to me IN CLASS. She had told me earlier in the day that she would meet me after class to give me food to take home to the boys. She was early, so she decided to drop the bag of food off for me. She peeked in the door of the classroom, made eye contact with me as I danced in the far corner of the room, and set a huge brown bag right by the door. Of course, no one near the door knew who Polly was or what she was doing, or for that matter what was in the bag. It was suspicious behavior to say the least and there were murmurs: "What's in the bag that? Is it a bomb?" In no less than 30 second, the entire classroom was absolutely overwhelmed by the aroma of gnocchi with white wine mushroom sauce, olive tapenade, and homemade bread. "It's worse than a bomb!" screamed Lauren, the instructor, "It's dinner!" The roomful of 45 Zumba-ers instantly lost all concentration, started dripping drool and running into each other. "Oh, that," I sheepishly eked, "Sorry about that. That's just my dinner," as I whisked the bag out to the front desk. Yeah, I'm that girl. The girl who gets dinner delivered to her at Zumba. Nice.
Here are some very blurry shots from a special Zumba Winterfest event I attended on my own a few days ago. I only had my little point and shoot camera with me, but I hope the shots give you a little feel for the fun I am having with my latest dance craze.
Lauren--Zumba instructor extraordinaire
Everybody ZUMBA!
Me in the center
Lauren leading a crowd of little kids on stage, leading a crowd of big kids on the floor below
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