3. Brag to others that I was taking photos of my child from afar.
4. Ask lame questions about meal plans and dorm room furnishings and parking decals and other such information which was readily available in the printed brochures provided and on the website and in all the literature that has been mailed to our homes.
5. Inquire if parent chaperones were needed on the marching band trip to Ireland. (Nope.)
6. Tell the parents at the lunch table that I would be cleaning my child’s dorm room over parent weekend.
7. Laugh when the director of dining services who boasted of his Polish surname announced that kielbasy and pierogi would sometimes be on the menu, because getting these recipes right is simply not a matter to be taken lightly.
8. Turn down the chance to drink a few glasses of wine at the afternoon reception.
2. Took a Chicago Architectural Foundation walking tour of early skyscrapers
3. Shook my head in disbelief as I walked through the State Street Target (!!!) in the architecturally glorious former Carson Pirie Scott building
4. Ate at the Walnut Room (the signature chicken pot pie!) on the seventh floor of Marshall Field’s
5. Enjoyed Frango Mint ice cream pie
6. Uttered the phrase, “Let’s take selfies in front of the Bean!”
7. Sat on the floor in front of a window on the Skydeck of the Sears Tower, gazing at the lights of the night from 103 stories up, until security informed us the building was closing.
Yesterday afternoon, I requested that my music service play songs by Peter, Paul, and Mary. I don’t know why I thought of them. The first song that came on was “Blowing in the Wind,” and I stopped and listened. Full disclosure: the song brought me to tears. The lyrics were nearly perfect for 2020, I thought.
Bob Dylan wrote “Blowin’ in the Wind” in 1962, and the song was widely performed and recorded throughout the 1960s, when our country was facing civil rights protests demanding racial equality, escalating nuclear capacities of unfriendly nations, a prolonged military engagement on foreign soil, and increasing levels of pollution. Perhaps history really does repeat itself.
Does the song mean that “the answer” is clearly swirling all around us, and that if we make a concerted effort, if we work together, then we can indeed grab hold of solutions leading to peace and justice? Or, does the song mean that “the answer” will always be elusive and unobtainable, and that humankind is too far gone to ever bring about equity and harmony?
Especially in 2020, I need to hold on to optimism. I need to believe that we can grab onto the answer.
On Monday, we learned of the Supreme Court decision that LGBTQ workers are indeed protected against discrimination by civil rights laws. And today, the Supreme Court ruled in favor of The Dreamers, which means that the administration cannot immediately end the DACA program.
The protests against systemic racism continue throughout the US and even other nations. Efforts to punish and prevent police brutality are gaining momentum. Governments, businesses, and voters are taking notice, and we are seeing encouraging responses.
Yes, I am holding on to optimism.
Will you join me in trying to grab the answer? (And look up the song, for old time’s sake.)
To capture the spirit of the shifting winds, I present my version of the Sea Breeze Cocktail.
In a shaker filled with several ice cubes, combine 1 1/2 ounces vodka, 3 ounces cranberry juice cocktail, and 1 1/2 ounce grapefruit juice.
Shake vigorously and pour into a tall glass with a few fresh ice cubes. Garnish with a lime wheel.
Although Husband has visited numerous countries on four different continents, he has never been to Croatia, his paternal grandfather’s place of birth. I last visited Croatia in 1988, when it was one part of Communist-run Yugoslavia. (The beach was spectacular, as were the Roman ruins and the suntanned sailors. Ah, Croatian men…) For many years, we had talked about a vacation to Croatia once the kids’s college tuition payments were behind us. June 2020, we decided, would be an optimal time to go.
In January, I purchased airline tickets, reserved charming accommodations, and even booked a few private tours. We were going to start with three days in Venice, Italy, and then take a ferry across the Adriatic Sea to the Croatian coast, then venture inland to Zagreb, then pop into neighboring Slovenia for the day, then travel back south down the coast until reaching Dubrovnik. I spent hours researching our options and planning itineraries for our two week visit. Sure, some sort of virus was spreading in China, but I really wasn’t concerned. Our trip was months away, and surely that virus would be vanquished soon.
Well, now we know that I was wrong.
The last of the refunds (for all the pre-paid tickets and deposits) arrived this week, ironically, on the day we were scheduled to depart. My passport, sent off for renewal in early February, has yet to be returned to me, but it doesn’t matter anyhow.
And yes, I am grateful that we lost no money, and I am grateful that we still have jobs which will help pay for the trip sometime in the future. Millions of people have far greater problems than me. But I am nonetheless mourning this lost dream, so I have allowed myself to be petulant for a few days and to seek a bit of comfort in a cocktail made with Croatian Sljivovica.(I remember, 32 years ago in Split, buying a bottle to share with my British pal in our hotel room…)
This drink is my version of a recipe I found called the Slivovitz Sour.
In a shaker, combine 1 1/2 ounces Slivovitz plum brandy, 3/4 ounce lemon juice, 3/4 ounce simple syrup, and 1 egg white. Shake until well mixed, then add several ice cubes and shake again. Strain into a coupe glass and add 4-5 drops of Angostura bitters to the top of the foam.
I’m baaaaack, sort of. I am calling this next part of the summer a “quasi-quarantine,” because here in central Virginia, we have entered Phase 2 of our re-opening in response to the CoVid-19 pandemic shutdown.
School is officially over for the summer, so now I am legitimately “on break” from my job. However, I am trying to stay busy with my resurrected “to-do” list, so daily cocktails are not happening–but occasional cocktails? Yes, please, and I would like to share them with you.
I read yesterday that researchers are estimating that the ordered shutdowns prevented about 60 million cases of coronavirus infection in the USA. Wow.
But we are hardly out of the woods yet. Phase 2 does not mean we can become sloppy and irresponsible. So here is some sage advice from me (and a multitude of experts):
Keep wearing those masks.
Wash your hands often.
Maintain a generous physical distance between yourself and non-household members.
Don’t visit crowded places.
Keep an extra bandanna or mask in your car or purse, just in case.
Keep a bottle of hand sanitizer in your car.
Keep a small bottle of hand sanitizer in your purse or pocket, just in case.
Get tested if you exhibit any signs of infection.
Husband, Daughter, and I went to a local brewery on Friday afternoon. We sat outdoors gazing at the mountains while we sipped. The staff was masked and gloved, the tables were all at least 6 feet apart, and the patrons were all wearing masks when going inside to purchase beer. I felt comfortable enough, but it was weird being “out” after so many months. We are going to make a concerted effort, in the upcoming weeks, to venture out into more of these lower-risk places.
My dear friend, Stephenie, dropped off a bouquet of fresh herbs from her garden. I couldn’t resist incorporating the sage into a cocktail.
Today’s drink is my version of a Honey Sage Bourbon Cocktail.
Make a honey-sage simple syrup with 1/2 cup water, 1/4 cup honey, and 5 large sage leaves. (I used the crystallized honey from a long-forgotten jar in the back of the pantry.) Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer for 5 minutes. Let syrup cool.
In a shaker with ice, combine 1 1/2 ounces of bourbon and 3/4 ounce of honey sage syrup. Pour into a low-ball glass filled with fresh ice cubes. Rub an orange rind around the rim of the glass to release some oils. Garnish with a twist of orange rind and a few sage leaves.
1. Other people’s children are just as demanding as my children.
2. The volume of a cone is 1/3 times height times area of the circle at the base.
3. The word “hypotenuse” inspires wise cracks about being high on pot. And inappropriate cracks about putting necks in a noose.
4. I enjoy offering individual help to students.
5. I do not enjoy students who continually try to get my attention by saying my name over and over again.
6. Students who say they need their earbuds to listen to a math video are actually listening to music off their playlists.
7. Catapults made from Popsicle sticks need incredible amounts of tape in order to stay intact.
8. When you tell a student you will phone the school nurse for a house call, versus letting the student leave class to go to the nurse’s clinic, the student will scowl at you for half an hour.
9. Almost nobody wants school to still be in session in June. Not students. Not teachers. Maybe just the parents.
(Please reply to this if you have used any of these words in conversation in the past year, and we will have a confabulation during which I will spew spume about this inane blarney. Or whatever.)
Still, nothing beats last year’s best vocabulary word: CALLIPYGIAN.
