Bittersweettoast

Those who know me well know of my love for The Great British Baking Show. Unlike every American baking or cooking show, this is a kinder and gentler approach to competition where the contestants, vying for a lovely glass plate in lieu of a million dollars, actually help one another and are genuinely empathetic about fellow bakers' mishaps. The show's hosts don't cream puff their comments, but they're never mean or condescending. When octogenarian Mary Berry gives them advice, they listen wholeheartedly. And each season's group of bakers always has a refreshing diversity of ages. These are real people who spend several long and exhausting weekends under a white tent on the grounds of a beautiful English estate. Not because they seek fame and fortune, but because they simply love to bake in their own modest home kitchens. Period. I thought about The Great British Baking Show this morning as I read the Sunday edition of The New York Times. Bear with me; there is a co...

My husband and I recently went to Chicago to visit our daughter who has been living and working there now for over a year. I had never stepped foot in the Windy City and was excited to get to know this place our daughter calls home. Spending time with her was a huge bonus. We live in a suburb of Seattle where our greatest fear tends to come in the form of four-legged creatures that roam through our backyard looking for a den or their next meal in an ever-diminishing habitat. We don't own any small pets, so their presence doesn't tend to affect us much. Life is pretty quiet and safe in our neck of the woods. So when our daughter landed this job in Chicago, I wondered how her transition would go. She has always loved the outdoors; would city life suit her? Our eighteen years of suburban parenting didn't exactly prepare her well for an urban adventure. Thrive she has. More comfortable than me in a big city she is. I had nothing to do with this, and yet it made me proud to se...

There is no large handbook that comes with the arrival of a child. That's fortunate because there truly are so many different ways to raise a child and live a life and unfortunate because there truly are so many different ways to raise a child and live a life. Sometimes it's overwhelming and you just want someone to swoop down and guide you. Children, however, grow slowly and if we watch and listen carefully, they often give us guidance. When my kids left the infant stage, they didn't suddenly wake up as terrible two-year-olds. When they rounded the corner into their teenage years, we didn't suddenly announce, "Oh, today you are a pubescent teenager who no longer listens and admires our every word." The pimples slowly started to appear, the body slowly developed, the attitude stealthily crept in. As our kids changed, we adapted. That all sounds blissful, right? Well, it wasn't. Parenting is a messy profession that has provided me with some of my greatest...

Generally speaking, when I start a project I'm likely to see it through to its end. I'm naturally suspicious of people with grandiose plans and have sometimes scoffed at those individuals for spouting out ideas that seem questionable at best and nearly impossible to actually complete. It's taken me a long time to recognize that it's really just a matter of style and personality. I'm the winter stew, simmering forever before presenting itself with its finished flavors. I mull ideas in my head for a long time before sharing them with others. When I say I am going to do something, I want to be able to follow through. For better or for worse, that's just who I am. I started this blog almost five years ago (pause. sigh. time does indeed fly). When I began I had every intention of getting through all 50 drinks because, well,  that's just who I am. But then I started teaching full time, and the busy-ness of life, work, and parenthood stepped in to thwart this wel...

Happy New Year! I'm sorry if you gave up on me. I actually gave up on my ability to keep this blog going, and today's post doesn't exactly mean I'm back to writing regularly. When I started teaching full time in September, I knew life would get busy; what I didn't anticipate was having to get used to flying by the seat of my pants all the time. As a part-time teacher, I had lots of time to prepare my lessons. Granted, this meant that if I really calculated my hourly pay, I'd have had a hard time justifying working at all. Looking on the bright side, I don't work twice as much as before, mostly because there just aren't enough hours in the day. Looking on the dark side, I work an awful lot and most days I am planning right up to the moment my students walk in the door. I have had to get used to not always having a clear picture of what to do next, but I have learned that this is not always a bad thing. My students have become my guide far more, and we hav...

When I was a senior in high school, I remember the buzz surrounding some of my classmates who were applying to Stanford. Unlike most application essay questions at the time, the Stanford question was always unique and interesting. That particular year's question was this: use one adjective to describe yourself and explain why that adjective best fits you. I never had to ponder the adjective question because I knew that this was a school beyond my reach, so I lived vicariously through friends more willing to test their mettle with Stanford's admissions staff. One friend, in particular, decided to write the most gutsy college essay ever and describe herself with just three words: I am succinct. End of essay. Not only did this friend graduate from Stanford, but she is now an English professor. I just love that story. Now it's my turn to be succinct with you. Very simply, I want you to stop what you are doing and go out and buy some summer berries while they are still ...

I'm baaaaack! No, I have not given up on this blog. It just took a much appreciated summer break to help me find some down time to write and create. My sister recently asked me how far I was from my goal of 50 drinks. Well, let's just say I still have a ways to go, mais c'est la vie. If you'll be patient with me, I will get there. Hopefully before my next decade birthday. I've done some important things since last sitting down to write. I went on a yoga retreat in the beautiful San Juan Islands and learned how to fence and throw a hatchet -- two activities that were way more fun than the yoga. Perhaps relaxation is just not my thing. My partner in this medieval fun, Debbie, has been a friend and adventure buddy since the day we met (long ago) while training to become bike trip leaders. The miles between our homes make our gatherings few and far between, but they are always filled with enough laughter to (almost) last until the next escapade. When school let o...