winter records

My first winter back in Michigan after living in Alabama for 6 years and Georgia for one year shocked me with freezing temperatures and seemingly endless snow. My family joked that an especially cold winter was a welcome home gift for me.

Now, here I am, my first winter in Wisconsin, and it's a winter for the records. The snowiest January in a decade. Long stretches of days in the single digits.

A truly frigid morning: -11 degrees, with a -40 degree wind chill. Certain we would have a "cold" day, if not a snow day, I camped out on the couch watching the school closings scroll at the bottom of the tv screen to no avail.

As I headed outside into the insanely cold weather, a line from *Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer* zipped into my mind: "weather not fit for man nor beast."

Welcome to Wisconsin?!?

this one's for the cheeseheads

from wikipedia, licensed via GFDL

Assimilation happens slowly, with small yet seismic jolts underneath the surface. Somehow I think that dreaming about Brett Favre two nights before the NFC championship is one such subliminal shift. And, NO, it wasn't that kind of dream.

Sadly, the god-like Favre and the good ol' Pack suffered a heartbreaking loss on the frozen tundra. A collective tear was shed by the entire dairyland state. And, yes, I did watch a good 1/3 of the game. I had to. I'm in Wisconsin now. Assimilation is at work. The frozen tundra, incidentally, is also not a joke. A deep, soul-drenching cold has submerged my new state and now snow falls in small squalls and swirls (apparently I'm fond of s-alliteration this evening...).

And so, another move, another place slowly becoming home, another winter, with bone-chilling and soul-testing depths of cold and barrenness.

new home

I'm watching the sky turn from grey (where it's been stuck all day) to dark. Right now it's at that moment of slate blue before slipping into sapphire and then black. My East wall is predominantly windows, affording me a lovely view of the lake over and through the rooftops, electric wires, and satellite dishes of neighboring homes. That's what this photo represents. Unfortunately, on gloomy winter days, the lake melts into the sky (or vice versa), but trust me, it's out there.

Join me, won't you, for a little tour of my new home: the aforementioned window filled room is the living room, with cozy booknooks, and a comfy couch to stretch out on and watch Lake Michigan, fat squirrels that eat the fallen bird seed, or small and colorful birds who perch on the feeder.

Now, head west, and you're in the kitchen, the literal and figurative heart of my home. Newly redone, the kitchen features a glasstop cooktop with warming center, a hot water dispenser, quiet dishwasher, many lights, and a pass through window that also provides views of the stupendous Lake Michigan. A portable Island is a good place to eat and read, or to set up my laptop.

In the front of the house you'll find two bedrooms, one decked out in pink and green and serving the dual purpose of guest room and study; the other, with amethyst walls and light blocking shades, is the perfect bedroom for sleeping long and late.

Finally, highlights of the bathroom include a pedestal sink, and a shower with a rainhead. The other lovely trick is that the door won't stay open--allowing it to naturally close holds the heat in the small room and makes for a gentle start to the day with a warm shower.

So, please, come and visit! I've already hosted my Michigan moving crew (Mom and Dad, though they only saw the place in disarray), the VP (who spent an afternoon enjoying tea, cocoa, and chocolate pound cake), and my Grandma C is on her way for this coming (and very cold) weekend.

goodbye, michigan

My holiday visit to the magical mitten draws to an end after nearly two weeks of relaxation and reconnection. Today my parents are driving me back to Wisconsin to help me start moving into my new place (hoorah!).

I enjoyed catching up with college friends at one very pink first birthday party for little S; a day of tromping around in the woods and chatting with best friend S; a lunch of spinach feta quiche and darjeeling tea at Schuler’s Bookstore and Cafe in East Lansing and an afternoon shopping with best friend H; a delicious breakfast (cranberry oatmeal pancakes) at Morningstar Cafe with my grandparents; a vigorous yoga class; breakfast, lunch, and shopping at Zingerman’s with S; watching Rodgers and Hammerstein’s 1960 production of *Cinderella* with my Mom, Grandma, Aunt B, and cousins F, N, A, S; cooking with my family; sharing a Christmas eve cocktail with my brother L; and spending lots of quality time with my mom and dad, shopping, eating, walking in the woods, drinking wine, watching movies, and chatting.

Now it’s time to establish some new routines and goals, starting with moving to my new adorable apartment with lovely accoutrements.

I’ll miss the quiet beauty of my parents’ house in winter on days like yesterday and today when snowflakes alternate with searingly gorgeous blue skies, drawing a sharp distinction between black tree branches and fluffy, sparkly white snow lining the woods and draping over pine boughs.

happy christmas eve!

After a *grueling* train ride to Michigan on Friday (the train from Chi-town to EL was 3.5 hours late due to a derailment which necessitated our train using different tracks that needed a different engineer, who couldn't make it to our train for 1.5 hours)...and after 24 hours of blowing, gusty high winds and powdery, horizontal snow...and after some last minute christmas shopping...and after a lovely first birthday party for little baby S. and visit with friends...and after 2 delicious meals at Zingerman's...I'm here in good ol' western Michigan, in a white winter wonderland, ready to celebrate with my family. Our traditions are shifting this year and it's a year of transitions. It's good to remember that times, circumstances, and people change and sometimes our rituals need to alter as well.

As Zora Neale Hurston writes in one of my favorite novels, *Their Eyes Were Watching God,* "there are years that ask questions and years that provide answers"...I would add that there are years for new beginnings, and years when we survey all around us with fresh eyes. This year has been one of questions and answers, and many blessings. I'm grateful for all of the wonderful people who continue to touch my life with their kindness and generosity. I hope you know how special you are, and how I treasure you. I know it sounds trite and hackneyed, but you are my greatest gift.

"what does this song mean? my whole life i don't know what this song means..."

photo courtesy of wikipedia, licensed under creative commons


I think I've mentioned Dan Fogelberg's "Same Old Lang Syne" on this blog before. Yesterday morning I heard the song for the first time this holiday season, and, sure enough, I was in tears by the end of the song. And then the DJ announced that Dan Fogelberg passed away this last weekend. I wouldn't consider myself a DF fan, but this song has a strange emotive power.

Meeting again after years in the frozen food section symbolizes the coldness that intervening years can create between estranged lovers. The coldness melts as they attempt to reconnect, however superficially, and aided by a little alcohol. At the end of the song, the snow turns into rain, illustrating the perhaps greater sadness of an emotional thaw after years of frozeness and emptiness...isn't it heart-rending? Doesn't it perfectly express that distance that exists where there used to be none?

Have I mentioned that I love grocery stores?!? I think that's one of the reasons the song resonates. The grocery store represents quotidian necessities, and, for a foodie like me, a place of infinite possibility, on which the song capitalizes.

In other news, I've stirred some interest in writing a collaborative fun romance tale, and plan to create a blog for this creative endeavor in the new year. This all stems from my paper-grading-stress-induced-confession-of-funny-romance-stories at study night on Sunday. My very talented colleagues are creating romantic phrases that are discipline specific, and what more fun than to write a collaborative story?

a truth universally acknowledged...

watercolor sketch of Jane Austen by her sister Cassandra, 1804, courtesy of Wikipedia Commons

Saturday afternoons mean watching PBS cooking shows amidst grading, baking, and doing laundry. Between Rick Bayless' *Mexico, One Plate at a Time* and *America's Test Kitchen,* the most wondrous "commercial" appeared: montage of scenes from various Jane Austen films appeared, accompanied by the strains of Coldplay's tear-jerker "Fix You." At the end of the lavish display of love requited and not, appeared the kicker: The Complete Jane Austen, January 2008! Jane-ites, unite:)

opalescent lake michigan

Today was the best kind of winter day--sunny and crisp, with a bright blue sky in counterpoint to gleaming white snow. When I arrived home around 3:30 pm, I layered on wool and fleece and headed outside. I wanted to walk by the lake because the magic of light and snow created the illusion of opalescence...the lake gently undulated, slowly, under small patches of thin ice. At once white, silver, blue, and pink, the effect was as breathtaking as the chilly air. The sky turned pink and violet, striped with thin grey clouds. Small ice floes are beginning to form around the shoreline, and yet flocks of geese still remain.

In between my interminable, infernal grading, I baked a loaf of cranberry orange nut bread for my American Lit class tomorrow morning. I'm a little nervous that someone may be allergic to nuts...I try to be sensitive to such needs, but this was one of the few treats I had all the ingredients on hand for. I just tested an end slice--crunchy, tart, and nutty. Delicious!

I'm excited to plan ahead for next weekend, the winter solstice, when I'm back in Michigan visiting my dear family and friends. My va-cay begins with a short visit with my two best friends S and H (and H's lovely family), and a very special first bday celebration for S! Hoorah! And, watch out, Zingermans, here I come! S and I will enjoy breakfast, our favorite meal, there, and my brother L and I will stop there on our way back to Holland to buy the Fromage de Noel. And cranberry pecan bread (very different than my aforementioned "tea loaf," this is a dense, bread-bread. I know that sounds ridiculous, but my addled brain cannot think of a better description).

citrus love

photo by Scott Bauer, from the Wikipedia Commons

One of the bright spots on these gloomy, chilly winter days is the profusion of delicious citrus fruits. I love starting my morning with half of a ruby red grapefruit--a tart and tangy wake up! And a juicy navel orange at lunchtime brings a smile to my face. I particularly need the nutrients of citrus now as I'm trying to drive away a common cold...

I'm in the thick of grading essays...one class after another...and everyone's stress level is high as we anticipate our long January break.

My neighbors continue to play video games late at night, and the digitized sound of shooting and who knows what else thumps up through the floor and fills my bedroom. I try to crank my classical music via NPR as a peaceful antidote, but then it's simply too loud to sleep. So I made use of my guest bedroom and slept wonderfully, even if the bed is much smaller than my own big bed.

tales from the city

This morning I'm recovering from a long day of fun yesterday, all whilst hosting a little common cold. C and I set out for the big city late yesterday morning. Our first stop was the Allen Edmonds shoe store/factory, where we discovered a secret cache of *nice* women's shoes at reduced prices...like Cole Haan, Privo, and Ugg. We also discovered some very attractive men with some damn fine shoes.

We then made our way through some of the sadder parts of Milwaukee to the cute gentrified area of Wauwatosa, where we met A and Red Beard for a delicious lunch at City Market. I had a veggie quiche, a cranberry walnut scone, some fresh fruit, and coffee. Sitting in the pastry case was a Buche de Noel, and I was filled with zeal to make one myself. A said they made one in French class when she was in HS.

We said goodbye, and C and I searched for the secret shop, which proved a little tricky. In the middle of our search we went to a few neat shops--a women's boutique and an independent bookstore. After many circuitous routes, we finally found the secret shop and spent a wonderful while in the tiny gem of a store, buying gifts and dreaming of future visits...

Then it was off to the controlled madness of the shopping mall. I have never seen so many security guards and police, which saddened my heart to think of how much needless, senseless violence happens. We shopped, chatted, and drank coffees and lattes from Alterra.

Our final stop was for pizza in She-town, a perfectly delicious ending to a delightful day.

To think that this time last year my future was so uncertain and all I knew of this place that I am now was indeed my now friend C, and the possibility that I could end up here. And now here I am, and it all still seems a bit of a miracle to me.

frozen tundra: it's no joke

Between the Brett Favre obsession and the cold weather, I've been schooled on essential Wisconsin-ism this week. Let's just say that to even question Favre's god-like status is tantamount to blasphemy in these parts. And, apparently, to argue that up-and-coming QB's are "the next BF" is a logical fallacy.

As for the weather--jeez louise, as my friend B. would say--it's a depressing situation. The low temps for the next few days are as follows: -2, 0, 0, 23, 5, 5. That 23 looks like a heat wave:) I've made quite an impression on campus with my pink uggs, which I usually intend to change out of, but on cold days, they're just warmer and comfier to wear than heels.

Tomorrow I shop! I'm most excited to go to a nifty little specialty store that I can't write about here because I would spoil the surprise for many people who may be reading this blog and receiving a gift from me. And, I found a little cafe with a delicious menu for a lovely lunch. Then there's the mall, which will be *crazy* with harried shoppers. I may need a few zen/yoga/happy place breaks throughout the day.

This week's highlight was a talent show on campus. The students gave phenomenal performances, and I was so impressed with everyone involved in the grand production. The final act was a student doing the Solja Boy dance, which I've decided I simply must learn. I've added learning the dance to my increasingly long list of things to do in January when I have a break (list also includes moving, writing a conference paper, preparing for one new class, revamping two classes, going to doctor/dentist/eye doctor, etc).

baking up a storm

The first winter storm of the season brings excitement, nervousness, and non-stop weather updates on TV. I started my morning at Lowes, where I selected a snow shovel--my very first. I've never been in charge of snow removal before, so I needed to stock up on accoutrements. I then stopped at the grocery store to buy the items I forgot yesterday, and headed home to await the coming storm.

Light flurries began around 11:30, and continued to build, swirling with the increasing wind, and turning into a sleet, ice, and snow mixture, which continues as I write now.

To while away the stormy afternoon, I took refuge in the kitchen and welcomed my friend C. and her adorable, pink-loving, expert candy-cane smashing daughter T. Together we made chocolate sandwich cookies--two thin, delicious wafers filled with pink peppermint frosting and then rolled in the aforementioned smashed candies. And we attempted to make marshmallow fudge. I discovered that substituting regular milk for evaporated milk doesn't necessarily work so well, and my "fail safe fudge" turned into a fudge mousse. I'm thinking of rolling it into balls and calling it truffles...We had a lovely afternoon, chatting and baking, and it was just the holiday fun and friendly lift I needed on a day that otherwise would've seemed really long and rather lonely.

Tonight I had a long chat with my dear friend S. and worked on a Christmas gift for some friends...

If only every stormy day could be so peaceful and homebound:)

soup for a winter's night

Sometimes I please and surprise myself in the kitchen, when I try something new and it turns out fabulously. As the temperatures dip, and flurries fill the sky, I crave luscious, hot soups--the perfect balance of warmth and faux heartiness. I love that soup can be virtually fat-free and yet taste utterly voluptuous. I came home from work *early* (if 4pm is early after arriving at work at 7am...), set some frozen roasted butternut squash pieces out and went for a very short walk. I came home, enjoyed coffee and couch time, reading my new *Cooking Light* magazine, and then headed to the kitchen.

I sauteed diced carrots, celery, and onion in a little canola oil. I added chunks of the still frozen squash, water, a bay leaf, dried sage, black pepper, and salt. I cooked away until the squash was thawed and the other veggies had a little give. I used my stick blender to roughly mash the soup, preserving some rustic chunks. I ladled a bowl full, drizzled honey on top, and ate with a wedge of Zingy's Paesano bread with olive oil. Yumm. The veggies and spices give the soup a thanksgiving flavor, and the honey draws out the sweetness of the squash.

Christmas baking beckons...my cooking magazines are filled with delicious new recipes, like Chai shortbread, and chocolate sandwich cookies. Or how about a Chocolate Cake layered with homemade peppermint ice cream, enrobed in ganache? Any takers? What are your favorite holiday treats?

post for a winter's night

I'm cuddled up in my pink fleece blanket, the same one I take to movie club when we watch scary/violent movies like *Braveheart*, and skimming *The Dharma Bums* for class tomorrow. Yes, I said skimming...sadly, it's been long enough since I've last read the novel that even my copious marginalia seem new, or, reflect early beliefs/impressions I don't quite hold anymore.

The maple bourbon pecan pie turned out deliciously, its success hinging on my lackadaisical and imprecise and rather generous sprinkling of Maker's Mark (from a ginormous jug, the dregs of bourbon left over from my famous PhD graduation Pink Party) into the filling mixture. Boozy, caramelly, and nutty--a most lovely combination.

My weekend in Michigan hinged on relaxation--I went to a vigorous yoga class on Friday morning, visited the historica Cappon House with Mom and Grandma in honor of Grandma's birthday, drank a lemon martini in the happening New Holland Brewery with my family on Wednesday night, and shared a traditional Thanksgiving feast with my family.

The train trip seemed to stretch out into giant interminable swaths of time, the seats crowded with train *amateurs,* as my friend M once said about airports, and my wide-eyed reflection gazing back at me from the dark train windows.

Now, a flurry of holiday activity and an overwhelming mass of grading awaits...and then it's back to Michigan to *finally* see my dearest friends who I haven't seen in MONTHS, and to spend more time with my dear family.

I'm reading Amy Bloom's critically acclaimed novel *Away* and very much enjoying the story and her writing style--evocative but not effusive, stylish but not spare.

totoro

Tonight I watched my very first Japanese Anime film, *My Neighbor Totoro,* by Hayao Miyazaki, which was utterly delightful. The landscape animation radiates peace, calm, and beauty. The littlest girl in the film is simply adorable, and the expressiveness of all characters, their vivid imaginations, the presence of the spirit world (represented by the fluffy, bunny-esque Totoro), and family sadness is palpably expressed in deceptively simply characters/animations. We (the intrepid movie club) dined on cookies and milk, and all I needed was my pink fleece blanket to feel totally kid-like and comforted!

Tomorrow I make my way back to Michigan for Pie Day! Hoorah! I'm taking the Amtrak, my new favorite method of travel. I have four brand new magazines to keep me entertained on the long-ish journey around the lake.

Have a lovely feast and a delightful break, everyone!

pie-day preview

If my memory serves me correctly, last year I wrote about pie-day--what others call Thanksgiving, I like to call pie-day, named in honor of my favorite part of the feast (well, except for all the gorgeous vegetables, and the delectable mashed potatoes) and nicely shifting attention away from the problematic mythos of the holiday (about which I was just reading in preparation for my class tomorrow). Today I made a rustic apple tart that I'm taking to work with me tomorrow. I made the crust yesterday, a standard all-butter crust, and let it sit overnight in the refrigerator. It seemed a little "stretchy" today, but it baked up nicely flaky. I sauteed the apples in butter, brown sugar, and then added a touch of vanilla and cinnamon. I lined the apples on a rectangle of dough, folded the excess dough over the fruit, sprinkled the entire creation with large grained Turbinado sugar, and baked it until golden. A little preview of pie day, a little practice with pastry!

first snowfall

While flurries have danced throught the sky on several occasions this past week, last night they stuck. I stayed up LATE reading an old Jenny Crusie novel, *Tell Me Lies,* that I found at the library. Before finally falling asleep, I peeked outside and saw a thin blanket--make that a cotton sheet--of snow on my car top, rooftops, and even on the grass. It was pretty and magical and I remembered everything I love about winter--mainly, the sense of "hibernation" with a good book and hot chocolate. I carved out some time from work duties and student needs to do just that this weekend, and I feel refreshed. Now, the sun streams in the windows and quickly melts the snow into common moisture, and beckons me outside for a brisk, bracing walk before facing today's tasks: reading the Beats for class on Tuesday, planning a continuing ed course with my friend B, and baking cookies (for students) and an apple galette (for friends/colleagues).

fun times with the VP + the Beard

Last night my gang and I celebrated the end of another long week, jammed full of special presentations and observations, with a little trip to She-town for pizza and conviviality at Il Ritrovo. Once we had bread and water in our starved and parched bodies, conversation flowed, laughter reverberated, and fun reigned. I was pleased to make an appearance with friends rather than dining alone yet again. And I even garnered a flirtatious wink from the ever-amiable host.

This morning the rain turned into snow (which makes me think of that Dan Folgeberg song about meeting an old lover in the grocery store...that song breaks my heart every time I hear it). I've stayed warm inside, doing laundry and tidying my home. And--to my utter amazement--watching the downstairs neighbors pack their giant UHaul truck! They're moving!

My thoughts turn to Christmas, to gifts to make, and warm thoughts to share, to delicious treats to create. I think it will be a truffle year--hoorah! This, of course, necessitates an order from Chocosphere. With the snow and grey skies, it's also the time to stock up on SAD-staving-off chocolate bars. A little Cluizel, a handful of Pralus, and something new awaits me.

a funny thing happened on the way to the grocery store

An elderly gentleman, decked out in camo jacket and hat, stopped me in the Copps (where does the apostrophe go?!?) parking lot, and said, "You look nice. You look like a lady."

I was wearing my favorite Ann Taylor suit--a wool boucle suit with cream splotches randomly sprinkled across the fabric--black hose (which I didn't want to wear, but was having a Bridget Jones' -esque situation with tights and hose this morning), and my favorite classic black pumps (not nearly as swanky as the Cole Haans, but still nice), and--ugh--my puffy white down coat, because IT WAS SNOWING this morning. Little tiny pellets of snow. Cold, brisk wind. Layered grey skies.

Anyway, it was a sweet comment that warmed my heart on a depressingly winter day.

if the shoe fits and you can't buy it

Besides reflecting on place, home, and loss while walking around Lenox Square mall, I also engaged in retail pleasures. I spent several hours in Bloomingdales, trying on cashmere sweaters (and buying a classic black turtleneck, with slightly puffed sleeves at the shoulders), shoes, and boots. I tried to slip my foot in a size-too-small Cole Haan black patent pump with Nike Air cushioning just to see if these shoes would provide the comfort and springiness for which Nike is famous. It's hard to say since my whole foot was smooshed and losing sensation. The shoes are beautiful--with clean lines and a classic, more substantial heel than is often found.

And the boots, oh Lord, the boots. I've been on a boot mission for several years. Most boots are too wide in the calf for me (as one annoying salesman told me, I need to get bigger calves. Like it's me and not the boots that are problematic). I told the friendly Bloomie's salesman about my quandry and he brought out several different boots, ranging from a Franco Sarto with synthetic uppers, to an all leather zip-up Stuart Weitzman, to the stunningly gorgeous all leather stretch Cole Haan boot in a buttery, caramelly leather, that skimmed my calf and nicely scrunched but didn't slide down my leg as I walked around the shoe department. I wanted to live in these boots. But, even with the special promotion of 20% off, the boots would be a *major* investment that I just can't make now. I pretended I didn't like the pull-on feature of the boots, and the salesman told me that this was the most classic, beautiful boot on the market now, better than anything by the more upscale Gucci. I believed him. I gingerly packed the boots back in their large box, patted them goodbye, and headed toward the cosmetics department in search of more affordable luxury.