Day length

I realized yesterday that I've been composing posts in my head so often lately that I somehow let myself think that I've posted those thoughts when I haven't. A little catching up, then.

I'm still processing the Inauguration. We watched it at school, in a big room with about 135 kids -- some significant majority of whom were only vaguely aware of what was happening. At school, we felt it was important for all the children to have the experience in whatever way they could. Sometimes, that made it a little hard; lots of distraction and noise made it challenging to focus. But overall it was impossible for me, anyway, not to have the sense of the impact this president will have on the lives of these children. What amazes me about Obama is the incredible ability he has to be at the same time in charge, in control, and powerful while still having the kind of humility and grace to seem to wonder what all the fuss is about -- that he can have the experience of the Inauguration in a sense the same way we're having it; in awe, and hopeful, and amazed. To be in the midst of this pageant that's all about him, and yet not to let it be all about him. That takes an astonishingly centered and calm sense of self that few politicians seem to have.
We recently watched Oliver!, the 1968 musical adaptation of Oliver Twist. Dean loved it, as I knew he would, and wants me to read the original to him. I was part of a theater group when I was just a little older than Dean is now, and our only production (but in many incarnations) was Oliver! At various times I played either Oliver or Artful Dodger, and therefore knew all the songs (which I refrained from singing throughout the movie). I think Dean is just the right age -- 10 -- to explore the questions about good and bad and about the mix that's within real people. We talked about whether Dickens wanted us to think the workhouse boys had it better (living within the "legal" system administered by the government) or Fagin's band of pick-pocketing boys, and about the difference between Fagin, and Bumble, and Bill.

Strangely, our theater group once performed Oliver! at...an orphanage. Angel Guardian Orphanage was quite near where I grew up and it was a huge place. I very clearly remember the girls' dormitory where we changed costumes and my conversation with one of the girls there. I can't imagine how any group of adults thought that it was a good fit -- for us to perform a story about the horrors of being an orphan that ends with the kind of impossible fairytale ending that you wouldn't want an orphan to fixate on. Can I hope that we didn't make much of an impression on the residents?

How far away is economic recovery, do you think? Is this thing that we're perched on the edge of still just the upper edge of the pit, or are we near bottom and close to the climb back up? Living simpler lives is magnificent as long as there are still ways for people to earn a living. Ken said he thought malls might disappear as the result of the retail collapse and I disagreed -- they'll change, and the stores and what we buy will change, but the experience of getting out of the house, of being social and being entertained by shopping, won't go away (just in the way that home video capability didn't kill movie theaters). I don't think that, as an adult, I've ever wished this much that I could know where we'd be in a year.

And I noticed just this very morning that sunrise is earlier.

Oh!

ABC-Along 2008 runs down toward the back half of the alphabet; here is the letter 'O' and
"'O' is for 'ocean.'" Both photos taken in Maine, in Acadia National Park.

This weekend we went into Boston to see, at Dean's request, "El Greco to Velazquez: Art during the Reign of Phillip III" at the Museum of Fine Arts. He'd seen a billboard for the show earlier in the month and was intrigued. I am so delighted when he has an interest in art and museum-going that I'm willing to have the experience in the way that works for him -- wandering through galleries, pausing and reading and looking when something catches his (or my) eye.

I do always steer him toward at least one gallery that I know he may not pick but that has things I know will interest him; he's interested in the Revolutionary War and Paul Revere so I brought him to see the collection of silver items made by Revere himself as well as Copley's portrait of Revere. Ken remarked that the gallery made the streets and neighborhoods of Boston come alive; it doesn't take long to see namesakes' portraits or work. It's a great exercise in a city to question who a street or neighborhood is named for, especially in an "old" city like Boston. This is one reason why I kinda hate the suburbs -- it's either names like "Elm" or "Birch" everywhere, or you get the streets named for the developer's family members ("Mindy Lou Circle").

Anyway, our day of culture was rounded out with a day of cleaning and the new atmosphere of minimalism is helping us clear out bags and bags worth of stuff. It's hard for me to let go sometimes; I am a collector, an archivist by nature. We work with Dean to clear out his room and closet of the things he no longer plays with and I see a childhood passing right by. I inadvertently made a smart move that's helped me -- I completely cleaned out the kitchen and got rid of the extraneous stuff on the counters. The result is that it feels great to walk in there, and so the room has become my reminder of the upside of downsizing. Someday -- soon -- I plan to have enough room to do some sewing again. The holidays are coming, you know.

Feeling the love

Amazing. Here's most (but not all) of what Gina sent along to Dean to feed his football love. He is finding it a bit challenging to be not just a soccer fan, but a Liverpool/European circuit fan here in the U.S. Gina spoiled us beyond measure with magazines, trading cards, toys; Dean is still pouring over every page, every item, and happily re-living Euro Cup highs and lows. We're making plans for a return package, and marveling yet again at the kindness of strangers, the power of blogging.

It's a crazy time right now (or I guess I should say, "crazier"). I'm working full time these weeks when Dean is in day camp and while I'm certainly not going to complain given how many people have to work full time all the time, it's just that all my routines are thrown off and I'm having a very hard time keeping up. That plus some repairs being done on the house that bring workmen to the front door by 7 a.m. and trying to remember each morning what Dean's needs are for the day (which camp, what hours, what gear?) are proving to be a bit beyond the normal insanity level. Bottom line, though, is that my posting will be sporadic and my crafting time, well, non-existent.

And its hard to sleep for worrying about the economy, the future. I know worrying does no good, and that these are things outside of my control. I know that we already are doing the things we can do (working hard, saving, being careful on how we spend, conserving gas as much as possible). But still I toss and turn for all the "what ifs." Enough already.

Happy Valentine's Day

Wishing you a lovely, homespun Valentine's Day! This is not a made-up, "Hallmark" holiday as some protest; this is an ancient celebration of love, and of expressing love. How you honor it, celebrate it, is up to you -- no one says you must go out and spend lots of money. I made Dean a little gift that he'll find in his lunch box (photo tomorrow!) and we made cards for each other that we will exchange at dinner time. Dean made cards and bookmarks for his classmates. I am very disappointed that I am required to be at a Board of Trustees' meeting at school tonight; it bothers me that this large group of adults doesn't care that it's an important family holiday but we'll enjoy the first part of our evening together at home, anyway.

Don't you love this photo? Hurray for PhotoShop, since the original was very underexposed. I'm saying this must have been taken during WWI; see the Red Cross caps on 2 of the dolls? And the clothing is clearly not WWII vintage.

What can you do with an acorn?

These wonderful little acorn people have been up on my bulletin board for a long time -- a page pulled from Parenting magazine from 2002. I've been looking at them a lot lately and thinking about a whole holiday crew of them, and we certainly have the acorns and pine cones out in our yard for the taking. Dean's pretty enthusiastic about making a set, too. He's having a friend over on Monday and they are going to make fudge -- Dean found an easy recipe in one of his cookbooks. I love that. I have been informed that I should just be on stand-by -- that Dean and his friend will do everything and I should just be available if help is needed. Can do!

Swoosh

So it's just a universally accepted fact at this point that time moves faster at this time of year than at any other. You think a day has gone by and it has been almost a week. We all know it. It still hits me up-side the head, though.

I love old photos of Christmas trees, reflecting the utter pride and love people feel once they get their masterpieces decorated. I also appreciate what they say about the times -- about how much (or how little, I suppose) was just enough. I have some old pictures that my parents took when they were newlyweds, new parents, of their decorated tree and the gifts spread out below, and I think about how precious it was to them, how monumental (and photo-worthy) it was. It helps to remember that it wasn't very long ago that photos were NOT instant nor instantly disposable -- that to take out the camera and use film really meant something.

We're going to hear Candlelight Carols at Trinity Church in Boston in a couple of weeks; if you live in the area and have never experienced this I can highly recommend it. This choir is one that instills in you complete awe that human voices can be so beautiful, so perfect, and celebrates the richness of Christmas music. When we lived in Boston, we used to go to Trinity Church for Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, which is also an intense, awe-inspiring experience that I can highly recommend (whether you are religious or not). I hope someday to be able to take Dean to a Midnight Mass, just so he can have that experience, although the churches out our way are not nearly as majestic.

I'm working away on my gift projects, happily and contentedly. Sending my sister's family homemade cookies and not feeling guilty about it. And hey, we're even going to go get our tree tomorrow night; with so many people decorating earlier and earlier, we've realized that if we don't get on the bandwagon then we'll end up again, as we did last year, having a "choice" of one tree by the time we get to the lot. We do buy cut trees now. We did buy and successfully replant live trees for many years, but it's not workable anymore. Our cut tree purchase supports the tree farmer who keeps his fields planted in trees (and not turned into over-sized housing developments) and we have space in the woods behind our house to leave the trees out to rot (and support all kinds of wildlife along the way). We'll start reading our Christmas books, and watching our holiday movies soon. I just wish I wasn't the only one in the family who likes eggnog....

Grace

Feeling better; thank you, all, for the support and kind words. Thanksgiving is now under our collective belt (and how!) so we look gleefully ahead now to Christmas.

I bought this book, A Grateful Heart, when Dean was a baby. We use it every holiday or special occasion meal to read out a grace, or blessing. It's a terrific book because it is non-denominational and includes very short, simple pieces with rich meaning that can be enjoyed by people of all ages. Dean was proud to be the reader this year -- I mark in pencil next to each piece with the date we read it and now am marking the reader as well.

Another simple little tradition I undertook before I was married was to use a small, hardcover blank book to record special meals. I write down the date, the guests, the food and wine, the weather. I love being able to look back and remember the year, the meal, by the notes I've taken. It helped Ken prove his point the other day when I commented that "it is so much easier [Thanksgiving] when it is just us" and he said I don't cook any less even when it is 'just us.' Ah, well. Got me there.

I've decided to be less sensitive to perceived criticisms about a simpler, more handmade holiday and am simply going for it. I'd be happy to receive a sweet little doggie ornament like this -- wouldn't you? Once again I see that I don't have it in me for the kind of mass-production required when you sell your work, but I *think* I can get all my little gifts made on time!

Just trying to make it

So maybe you, too, succumbed to the lure of The Cute Book, and maybe you, too, have had it on your shelf but haven't quite had time to do anything with it. Well, I'm here to tell you that this little panda (page 12!) came together in no time at all, so you should open the book and try something out. I've made some little countdown treats for Dean's lunch box this week (counting down until Halloween, of course); I loved that last week on the way home from school one day, Dean reminisced about our tradition that we "always" countdown to holidays with lunch box surprises. Kids are like that -- they'll take something you've done that they liked and instantly turn it into tradition. It delights me. And it reminds me how worthwhile it is to pick up some felt and thread and make things. I wish I could show you the hamster I made (complete with a mask and "trick or treat" banner), but that guy is too big to be scanned -- and now Blogger doesn't want to let me post anymore photos so I'll have to try again tomorrow.

China-free me?

All right. Natalie and Leslie have both reported in that they are back in their homes, and while optimistic are keeping close watch on the fires. We are all still on edge, waiting, but I'm trying to push myself out of can't-think-about-anything-else mode and honoring Natalie's request to just get on with normal stuff. If you hear about relief efforts that need support, I'd love to know about them.

OK -- so the long-simmering-in-my-head post that I meant to write days ago was in response to some wonderful questions Natalie raised about the whole China-free thing, and about where the ability to be environmentally responsible begins and ends. First, she made me laugh out loud with her first thought -- that "china-free" meant, like, paper plates for Christmas dinner! Gotta love a mind like that! And I even wrote her a whole long comment that evaporated in the ether when I hit "post." Anyhoo.

For me, China-free is about sending a message to the big businesses (primarily American? seems so, but surely it's global) whose manufacturing operations are in China, and to those manufacturing operations in China themselves. How dare you sacrifice the health and well-being of your workers, of your customers, and of our planet by using the cheapest and most deadly materials to make your goods? How dare you, Hasbro, increase your profit margins by knowingly (yeah, knowingly) allowing lead levels in toys -- TOYS -- to be what we've now learned they are? From the horror of the pet and human food contaminations to lead in toys designed for infants to suck on them, where does it end? It won't end, I believe -- it will keep getting worse. Once you start doing some research into how polluted China has become (and how quickly), it doesn't take long to calculate how devastating, given its size and population, this will be for all of us on Earth.

So sure, the lure of China for manufacturing is just how CHEAP it is, and as consumers we get sucked right into that because it's easy not to think about getting cancer in X number of years because we loved the color of lipstick we saw on our way to the register and bought it as a little pick-me-up and didn't realize it was full of toxic chemicals. Yup, the quick, easy, affordable choice for a lot of us is to head to Target or WalMart and get what we need. I go to Target and Walmart to be able to pick up what I need (in no way am I presenting myself as the queen-o-environmental-responsibility). No, we all can't afford pristine, artisan, environmentally perfect choices (and the reality is that there are not environmentally perfect choices for humans on this planet -- it's ALL a compromise).

OK. So where does that leave us? I'd written a post a while ago which of course I can't find now, but it was about my belief in the power of incremental change. About how the reason I think we fail is because we tend to have all-or-nothing approaches and so, for example, once we break down and eat the Halloween candy that was meant for next week we figure we'll never make our weight-loss goal so what's the point of even trying anymore? For me, this means that I am trying to be more environmentally responsible, more aware. It means that I will most assuredly still sometimes buy things made in China because (1) I was in a hurry and neglected to read the label, (2) it's the version I can afford, or (3) I honestly cannot find an alternative. But none of that will stop me from trying, and I've already turned down stuff and I'll keep turning down stuff. The China-free Christmas idea also pushed me toward re-examining our own expectations and approaches to the holiday in ways I wouldn't have done before, and I do believe we'll end up lighter AND happier.

One easy and well-intentioned tip: I found a terrific Web site that will help get unwanted catalogs out of your mailbox. I'm hoping by next year I won't have the piles and piles of catalogs going in the recycle bin.

I get wound up -- passionate -- about this stuff, but I hope I don't come across as holier-than-thou or anything. I'm just trying, learning. You may or may not want to keep an eye out for what I've been learning lately about plastics. It's ugly.

Back around

[A Quilt For The Child I Never Had by Jane Burch Cochran]

I knew I was overdue on posting but didn't realize it had been a whole week -- that makes total sense, though, because it has been quite the week! All good, mind you, but as super-busy as I can possibly manage to be. The personal highlight had to be meeting up with Heidi at the New England Quilt Museum -- my first experience in meeting a fellow blogger firsthand. We took our time touring the museum, then really took our time exploring the gift shop (more of the most perfect quilting books and fabrics gathered in one place than you would imagine). Lunch was apple/butternut squash bisque at a quirky little organic/vegetarian place across the street (the kind of place that you wish were in your very own neighborhood). I'm looking forward to another adventure with Heidi, AND to getting up to the museum again soon.

So otherwise it has been work and soccer and family activities that have kept me hopping. Tomorrow I get to go on a field trip with Dean's class to hear a "Conversations in Jazz" concert here and he has a friend coming over after school (the game plan is for me to do my grocery shopping after the concert and before the play date -- wish me luck). Then I'll have my regular work week and I think it's back to just the usual level of mayhem.

I had kind of a revelation -- a small one, granted, but still -- when we were all asked for our Christmas wish-lists yesterday. Rather than three lists, I'm going to offer one little list of things that we could be given as a family. Some board games we've been eyeing, a gift certificate to L.L. Bean which is one store where we all shop (and where we get outfitted for our camping adventures), things that we can all share and enjoy. This simplifies things all the way around, and moves us toward an even easier plan for next year (I am delighted to be a part of an extended family that generally has the holidays pretty much in hand by now, so we can't pull off wholesale change this late in the game).

The US, with 5% of the world's population, uses 30% of the earth's resources. How can we all scale back?

It's not what you wear that gets you there

I know I haven't been very inspired or inspiring here lately; being profound is just something that's either in you that day, or not. You can't pretend. I feel I compose a lot of amazing blog posts, but the thing is that I compose them in my head in odd moments throughout the day (and sometimes, night) and then come up empty when it's time to do the thing. Same thing with letters -- I write great ones in my head that never see the light of paper.

Reading someone else's blog recently (and of course now I can't find it -- argh!!) made me think about that divide, that dichotomy between the life you think you'll have, and the life you have -- between the parent you'd thought you'd be, and the parent you are. It made me remember how hard it was for me to stop buying clothes for the life I wished I had, expected I'd have. Like the really lovely kimono jackets that would look great over a slim pair of black pants that I could wear with ballet flats when I went to the opera or the ballet or even to a dinner party, except that I have found myself in a life (and a lovely one at that -- don't get me wrong) that doesn't involve much opera or ballet and when we go out we are pretty committed to the whole jeans and t-shirts scene. It was hard not to shop in that wishful way, though the unworn clothes hanging in my closet caused more than enough guilt to make me stop.

It's not the stuff itself that gets you there, or keeps you from going there. I certainly could find something decent to wear in my closet right now, should I be heading out for the ballet. And honestly, if we were invited to the kind of dinner party that required fancy grown-up clothes, I'd probably find some excuse not to go. Still, this reminds me that I actually considered doing a little shopping for my whole co-assistant-soccer coaching gig; Coach Louise, who's at the helm of our team of 13 9-year-old boys (and who knows what she's doing when it comes to soccer) has all the exactly right shorts and shirts for being the very picture of a soccer coach. But, I figure neither the kids nor the parents really care all that much about what I'm wearing, and looking more the part won't actually make me know any more about playing or coaching soccer.

So where does that leave me? It reinforces this business that it's not about the stuff. Makes me feel better about not buying stuff. But I could use 24 more buttons just like this little black one at the beginning, to use as dogs' noses for Dean's quilt....

Optimism

One of the transitions out of college, and schooling in general, and in to the workplace that was difficult for me was the lack of meaningful delineation from one year to the next. When you're working, life year-to-year can seem pretty much the same -- there's no agreed-upon schedule for "moving up" the way there is in school, and not any place where a fresh start is proclaimed. That's one of the many reasons I love working at a school now. I love September, the new beginning, the fresh opportunity to do better. I am an eternal optimist.

A lesson for me for these last two weeks that's really coming to a head now has been changing my sense of back-to-school transitions away from a process of buying things. I've felt a little empty, at odds, rattling around feeling somehow we weren't adequately doing this whole back-to-school thing at our house, and I realized it's because we aren't spending money on anything. Dean needed a haircut a few weeks ago so he's still all set there. We'd bought new shoes in the early summer that still fit and that hardly saw use all summer (sandal season!) so no need there. I watched for sales and picked up the few things (a new raincoat, some jeans and long-sleeved shirts) along the way, so no special shopping trips for clothes. And finally, our school doesn't have supply lists for the kids -- the things they need will be provided. So I'm trying to think about building some of our own traditions that aren't about buying stuff. I think, too, now that Dean is heading into 4th grade we've all become old hands at back-to-school -- Dean is excited, to be sure, and is completely looking forward to going back, to connecting with friends, to being with his teacher whom he already knows pretty well -- there's no need to carefully negotiate this process for him anymore. I think we'll bake cookies and take a long walk or two and maybe talk about our hopes for the year. Oh, and try to get the mice out of the garage as humanely as possible.

[above: from All Over the Map; an Extraordinary Atlas of the United States by David Jouris]

Tuning back in

I didn't mean to disappear; the lack of action here was counterbalanced with almost frenzied activity out here in real-world-ville. We've had out-of-town family visiting, we celebrated my brother Chris' 50th birthday, we did day trips , traveled farther afield, saw friends, hiked, fished, ate (and how!) and generally enjoyed ourselves dawn to dusk. Today is going to be quiet, catch-up time before back to work next week and then back to school the week after that.

In all the commotion I did manage to make the binding for my quilt; it is attached on the front but now I need to do the hand sewing to tack it to the back. The approach of fall gives me the spark to pick up the pace on my own projects and to get back to the Christmas-gift making. I'm not sure if it is a reflection of our collective advancing age, or a reflection of the times, but I'm amazed and delighted that my resolve to give primarily homemade gifts seems to have been met recently with more genuine appreciation than ever before -- people seem so happy to have been given something that was made just for them. Makes it worthwhile, and takes away some of my -- guilt? concern? -- at not being able to spend much money on gifts. When people seem happier with the simple handmade thing than they would be with something I'd gone out and shopped for, I feel this whole effort has been the right way to go. So this lights the fire to get going on Christmas!

For now, though, we are focusing on taking in these last days of summer. More time outdoors, more stops at farm stands, more ice cream (if that's even possible!). I feel ready for the adventures, and for the start of the new year feeling that always comes with the start of school.

Absolutely

I believe in the power of incremental change. I believe in making the effort, even if it means doing only slightly better. And, I think that often the sure path to defeat is the one of absolutes.

I've been thinking a lot about the 'eat local' movement, and about the overall green (environmental) movement -- these are topics so wonderfully dominant now. I'm delighted that people are so passionate, and that those passionate people are making others more aware, but I shake my head at the zealots who look to judge and divide the movements rather than celebrate all the small, incremental steps of change. [PLEASE note that I am not, repeat NOT calling the local food folks behind the 'eat local' link zealots -- I do think these are reasonable, thoughtful people looking to make others aware and in favor of incremental change -- I'm just talking about any movement's zealots and I hope you know what I mean.]

Here's how I view the problem: I was thinking about how I could make at least one meal each week with local ingredients (my recipe came just at the time that I was ready to start). But I stumbled at the pasta -- are there any local pasta companies? Laugh along with me as I checked the label on my Prince Spaghetti box; I remembered the old "Wednesday is Prince Spaghetti Day" commercials where the boy runs home through the streets of Boston's North End and thought maybe it was made locally. No such luck. Now, I appreciate that I could drive miles out of my way to a Whole Foods store and probably find fresh local pasta, but I'm not interested in using all that gas and creating all that pollution, etc. I thought about making my own pasta, but since wheat is not a locally grown crop, I wouldn't be able to find local flour. Would that 'count'? Making my own pasta with midwestern flour? Then I thought (as it is human nature to do) -- well this is too hard so maybe I really can't do this. And I'll tell ya, this is where I see so many good efforts by so many people (scolded and shamed on by the zealots) go by the wayside. It's too hard to do it all just right so I won't do it at all.

But that's not the point. The point (in this case) is to help sustain local farms. So making a summer pasta dish out of locally grown vegetables certainly does count, regardless of the Parmesan cheese or the pasta or the olive oil. Trying a little harder, taking a small step, makes a difference. Giving up gets you nowhere. Doesn't matter if you're trying to eat locally or be environmentally responsible or exercise more or shed a few pounds or drink a little less wine or shop less or whatever -- doing a little better helps you on the road to doing a lot better or reaching your goal. Giving up because you've made some transgression(s) leaves you stuck where you are.

Here's to the beauty, the benefits, of starting somewhere, of starting small. Of starting.

The Life

For the first time in a long time, I bought myself two treats yesterday while we were at the bookstore. I'd seen these two magazines mentioned elsewhere; Heather Bailey blogged about her pattern in Quilts and More, and Pam Garrison wrote about her participation in Somerset Life. While I truly am working very hard to buy less, use what I have, and pare down (and feel that I've been fairly successful), it felt good to get the treats and I've been thoroughly enjoying them. The sheer joy of getting up early, having a cuppa coffee, and sitting down with fresh magazines to read is worth the (very) occasional splurge. And splurge is the word -- at $14.95, Somerset Life is more of an investment than a magazine; even $6.99 was steep for the Quilts and More (which, if you're curious, is more geared toward a beginning/non-quilter -- slightly disappointing in that regard). It was fascinating to me that our local Borders bookstore has dropped ALL their scrapbooking magazines and is now a fount of sewing/knitting/crocheting/art-crafting titles; I wonder if they are just mixing it up, or if there's been a real shift out there.

Before the shopping trip, we spent yesterday morning working in the yard. My efforts to make Dean a gardener seem to have paid off; he spent a long time planting seeds and puttering along with me. I think that being able to enjoy time in your yard tending to growing things is a life skill worth, well, cultivating (sorry!). It's hard, sometimes, to let Dean loose out there -- plants do get stepped on, things get planted in impossible places, some portion of water intended for the flowerbeds ends up all over the driveway, and my own plans have to go by the wayside (that is, he enjoys having us work together so whatever was on my list gets neglected). But all that is worth it to have him happy out there, and despite all the 'gardening don'ts', his own garden is a magical, thriving place. It reminds me of the time we were mini-golfing and I told him to stop messing around so much -- just as he sunk a hole in one. (Yes. I recognize the ridiculousness of my telling my son he wasn't taking his game of mini-golf seriously enough -- I'm working on it.) I then of course said that he should clearly mess around as much as he wanted since it was working so well for him, and that holds true for his garden, too. We'll get out there today and water everything we planted yesterday since the rain that was in the forecast isn't materializing. And we'll take a walk, I hope, and scout for turtles. This is the life.

Oh, and chicken salad. I've been meaning to share my most favorite recipe for a summer staple around here:

1. 3 poached chicken breast halves (so, one full and one half breast piece -- poach by bringing to a boil in a shallow saute pan with a lid about two cups of chicken stock with enough water added to nearly cover the breasts; add breasts, cover, let return to a boil, then shut off but leave on the same burner for about 30 minutes or until breasts are cooked through)
2. 2 or three stalks of celery, cleaned and diced, or equal amount of seeded cucumber, or a combo of the two
3. 2 or three scallions, minced
4. 1/2 cup of mayonnaise
5. 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
6. 1/4 cup heavy cream
7. 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
8. salt and pepper to taste
9. optional: some seedless grapes, sliced in half

Dice the cooked chicken, and combine with celery/cucumber and scallions in a large bowl. In a smaller bowl, combine everything else (except grapes) and whisk smooth. Pour dressing over chicken, top with grapes if desired, chill and serve.

It's working

Dean had a fabulous birthday yesterday (and thank you for the well wishes!). We had family visiting for the day; my nephew and his wife in from Chicago, along with my brother and his wife up from Connecticut, all participants in Dean's master-plan day of fun (out to lunch at Legal's, all the guys to see the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie, a quick stop at Toys R Us to use the gift card from grandma and grandpa, back to our house for some Mario Kart racing, take-out Chinese and homemade chocolate/chocolate birthday cake). It IS good to be 9.

While the guys were in the movie, we women headed over to a nearby mall to stroll -- the weather was less-than-charming (sleet! snow!) and none of us had a particular need or agenda so it seemed the best plan. OK, I sort of had a secret-agenda hope of heading over to a huge fabric/crafts store in the area, but the weather and the fact that it seemed a little too self-serving held me back. Anyway, I was amazed by how easy my resolve seems to be holding -- I really had no desire to buy any clothes for myself and I believe that going a year without clothing purchases is going to work. The only store that almost got me was Crate and Barrel, but even the siren call of kitchenwares fell ultimately on deaf ears. I did get Dean a new battery for his watch, and the Steve Irwin memorial wristband he'd been wanting, but otherwise bought nothing and had no desire to buy anything. My nephew and his wife are expecting their first baby in July, so I stored up plenty of baby gift ideas, but I do now walk through a maze of stores thinking how we just don't need any of it, and it feels freeing. Oh, the perfume lady accosted me in the big department store -- disgusting. Couldn't wait to wash the stuff off. But that's nothing new.... I know I wouldn't have been able to hold back had we indeed hit the fabric store (I even had a dream about Timtex the other night, and about a woman who was telling me about an alternate product that was just like Timtex) so it's just as well we didn't venture there. Guess that will be the real test for me at some point -- to spend time in a fabric store and come out empty-handed.