The Sandwich Life

The Jans Project and CynthiaFest! Big News!!

Big CynthiaFest news! As you may, or may not know, our beloved Phil Lee is playing CynthiaFest. Phil Lee...sigh....we adore him and can not wait to have him here again. As we talked about it though we thought we kinda wanted an opening act because I believe Phil will just play one longish set. We tossed ideas around and then at one point one of us said to the other, "The Jans Project." And then we both cackled happily because it was just so perfect. Then of course we sat there wondering if they would be willing to do it..... I emailed quickly before I lost my nerve and within an hour all the guys had said yes. I went to bed just giddy....

The Jans Project is the latest incarnation of a band that goes back to well....a HELL of a long time ago! I've known them all since I was mmmmm 18, 19? When I turned 21 I went to see them that night at Mabel's and they played a Mott the Hoople song for me. I can't remember....was it All the Way From Memphis? Afterwards Steve muttered, complaining about their performance, and said, "WHY didn't we play a Johnny Thunders song?....we would have been FINE!" Despite Steve's muttering it was wonderful, hence my remembering it all these years later.....

So yeah, they go way back. We saw them last fall at Cowboy Monkey and they made me ridiculously happy...(although I will always miss our beloved Berni Proeschel...and other past members like David Wisnieswki whenever I see these guys) and Steve Lindstrom has a great writeup of their history and where they are now on their facebook page.

It is incredibly kind of them to do this. They will be playing for tips. I know everyone coming will have already generously put money in toward the party but please come with your pockets full if that is possible. Oh, and you'll be able to get their CD too! It means a lot to me that they are doing this. If it were anyone but Phil Lee I'd worry about him following them (no worries with Phil though).

Damn but I'm happy!

Oh, and look! I just found this clip from the last show of Jeff talking about our house concerts. You can hear me laughing. I always laugh too loudly.  Sigh.

 

and a couple of my favorites....

 

 

Memorial Day: Chicken Stock, the Knights of Columbus and Driving Through the Water

Last night Ernie and I were snuggled up in the media room together watching Next Food Network Star (I can't help myself) when Jair charged in to say that Owen told him to tell us the dryer was leaking. We kind of stared at him uncomprehendingly but it seemed urgent so we followed him to the kitchen to find Owen putting a towel down on the wet floor. Leo, of course, was sitting at the computer...no mere flood can come between him and the computer. The water seemed to be coming from the dishwasher...but we hadn't been using it. You know that feeling when you just can't make sense of something? We stared at the dishwasher, then the sink, opened the door below the sink, perplexed. Then Ernie saw that it was all over the counter too and he started picking things up and moving them when he got to......the now almost empty plastic container of gorgeous chicken broth that I had made earlier. Yes...we flooded our kitchen with chicken stock. DAMN.

Earlier in the day Ernie had pulled a cut up chicken out of the refrigerator. We always save the backs and throw them in the freezer for chicken stock. I felt like fussing in the kitchen so I told him to go ahead and throw the back from that chicken into my pretty yellow Le Creuset. I sauteed the fresh back til it was brown while I pulled all the other miscellaneous bits of chicken ouf of the freezer---the backs, the necks and the wing tips that had tucked away. I defrosted them and dumped them in with just a sprinkle of salt, pepper and cold water. Nothing else. I simmered it all for an hour or two and then strained it. It was gorgeous, utterly gorgeous. After it had cooled for awhile I poured it into a plastic container and left it on the counter to cool completely.

Yeah, well. Evidently I needed to replace that plastic container....  The kitchen smelled pretty good bathed in homemade chicken stock, although Leo of course thought it smelled disgusting.

Damn but that was some good looking chicken stock. Sigh.

On a brighter note, Ernie grilled the cut up chicken and my blackberry chipotle barbecue sauce was WONDERFUL on it! I made a slightly unsuccessful pesto of kale, arugula and spinach. Eh, well....win some, lose some....sometimes recipes DO help....

This morning we went out to the cemetery where my parents and Ernie's parents are buried. I had looked in all the listings for Memorial Day services and not seen this cemetery listed. I was a little disappointed but we cut some flowers and herbs (my Dad loved lemon balm) to bring with us to put at their gravestones. When we pulled up however we saw the Memorial service...complete with ragtag school band, Knights of Columbus, high schoolers reading Flanders Field and the Gettysburg Address, etc......I was SO happy. The boys were not as thrilled. I whispered at them sternly though and tried to explain that this is something we do for Grandpa and that it meant a lot to him and still does to many others. They were pretty good and even let me put my arm around them and kiss the tops of their heads a lot throughout it. Afterwards we walked to the other side of the cemetery. We put the lemon balm and lavendar in the vases of my parents' headstone and left some stalks of lavendar and perennial hollyhock at Ernie's folks' stone. We stood there a minute and headed back to the car.

As we drove through Rantoul I tried to explain to the boys why I think it's important to be there for these ceremonies. I tol them it's not that I necessarily support the wars but I support wholeheartedly those that serve our country. I told them about how Grandpa's sister ship in WWII was lost and that he was haunted by the loss of those men for the rest of his life. He paid a price for his time in the war, and because of that those who loved him probably paid a price too.  Of course I couldn't explain it all to them but I said that Grandpa had worried that no one would remember those men anymore and so we go and we stand through the talks and the prayers and the 21 gun salutes...we go for Grandpa and for all those men that Grandpa remembered. They listened and blinked at me with their big eyes. Then I got sniffily talking about my Dad and we all started laughing.

We drove through the fields and the wind blowing the corn made it look like green water. Stopped and took a couple of pictures on the way home to the guys' great distress.

Happy Memorial Day. 

 

 

CynthiaFest, Phil Lee and Celebrating the Here and Now

It's really not like me to have an event named after myself. And normally we don't particularly celebrate birthdays in a big way....but somehow we started joking about CynthiaFest and it has stuck. CynthiaFest isn't really about my birthday....it's more about so many of my friends turning 50 (or thereabouts...and thereabouts again) and reveling in it...despite not understanding how the passage of time has brought us here. CynthiaFest will be a celebration of being here....and enjoying the here and now, warts and all. I hope you can join us. If you're not on our email list, please just let us know.

Phil Lee. It's hard to adequately describe Phil Lee. He's a funny, outrageous character with a wicked, wicked wit. He has incredible innate talent and can write songs that quietly hurt....hit you right in the chest, you know? More than that though, he's one of the loveliest people we've met. Ernie and I are fortunate to have the most wonderful of neighbors, and given that our house is too crowded to put anyone up, our friends Vickie and Greg often graciously put up our guests. When I emailed Greg the other day about Phil's schedule he sent me back an email that said, "Phil is a gentleman and fun to host, he is welcome here pretty much any time that we are home". I loved that....it such a perfect and true description of Phil. He is a gentleman. He's very special and if you haven't seen him live you really ought to.... This will be an incredibly fun evening... Oh, and as an added incentive, after this one we don't have anything scheduled til October so you should definitely make it!!!

Oh yeah, and he throws knives too....maybe we can get him to give a demonstration....

 

 

 

 

More Notes from the Apocolypse

Well, not the apocolypse actually....but aging.

Why do people never tell you that your toenails get harder and thicker as you get older? Anyone who has ever dealt with an 80 year old's toenails knows this WAY too well but somehow you don't think it will happen to you. Now I don't have 80 year old toe  nails but they aren't sweet 20 somethings either. WTF?

I never dreamed....

AND another question. Why is it that when I was in my 20's I could have a good cry and an hour later all I needed was some refreshed eyeliner and I was good to go? Side note: God I loved my eyeliner in the 80's.

Now, I have a brief cry and the next day my eyes are huge puffballs. Am I such an dried up old thing that my body panics at the idea of me losing more fluid through tears so it shuts down and retains everything?? Is that it?

And how can anyone in their right mind expect someone raised to politely leave two spaces after a sentence be expected to leave a SINGLE FRIGGING SPACE?

It looks rude. 

Hmph.

 

on a different note: the heliotrope in my window box smells so good that we all have to smell it every night before we go to bed....

 

 

Best

Some days feel full of worries. I worry about the guys for various reasons. I worry about Ernie for obvious reasons. I have the everyday worries about work, house, yard, school.....and sometimes I worry about myself for god only knows why reasons. But yesterday....there was not a worry in sight and it will most likely go down as the best Mother's Day ever.

They let me sleep a whole half hour later than usual (gee, thanks) but I couldn't complain because I woke up with a boy on either side of the bed smiling at me and giving me kisses and hugs. I went down stairs and partook of Ernie's Sunday biscuits and looked at the computer and the newspaper. Later Ernie took me to Prairie Gardens so I could get a couple of plants for our windowbox. I did the unfathomable and only spent a little over $6. I know...I don't understand it either. We got back home and I puttered with my windowbox and made the boys move mulch for me. I can not begin to tell you how much I love watching the two of them do yard work. They were quite amenable although they did give their standard response when I thanked them: "why thank us when you forced us to do it?" I just roll my eyes at them and thank them anyway. 

Watching them do stuff like this is pretty entertaining. Leo shovels mulch into the wheelbarrow and most of it actually makes it into the wheelbarrow.  Owen....not so much....he has great enthusiasm...but the only about 1/4 of the mulch makes it in....about 1/4 falls short and about 1/2 goes too far. It's like watching them swim. Leo is straight and efficient....Owen seems to have an extra limb or two and there is great splashing....  

Then there was a lot of kindle reading on my part and playstation conniving on their part. I took a NAP and enjoyed it greatly. Then the boys explained their plan for the rest of the day. Ernie was to take me out for a drink so Owen could prepare dinner in private. After dinner they would be escorting me to the media room for family movie night and I, yes, I, got to pick the movie. They just stood there grinning at me and I told them how absolutely wonderful that sounded.

We obediently vacated the premises and Ernie only took four phone calls during the hour we were out. We came home to the most divine smelling smoked/grilled chicken ever. I retired to the front yard with my kindle while Ernie assisted with final preparations. I came back in and Owen, in full waiter regalia and a slight English accent, explained that he would be waiting on me as well as cooking. He explained that he had duct taped a blanket over the kitchen door so I wouldn't have to see a messy kitchen while I ate. Then Ernie and I were served the greatest grilled chicken ever (he uses smoked paprika and wood chips to make the fire particularly hot and smoky...that boy is a masterful griller) corn on the cob (he cooked it absolutely perfect in the microwave....huh) and sauteed swiss chard.

Leo scurried in and out of the kitchen during the meal and after we finished he produced his world famous brownies, fresh and warm, on my favorite blue willow plates. After all that I was escorted to the media room where we all watched one of Ernie's favorite movies that he had just picked up, Waiting for Guffman. Owen and Ernie howled throughout. Leo and I enjoyed watching the two of them watch it. At one point I said to Leo, "I think this is the best Mother's Day ever" and he tried not to smile but then he couldn't help it----he grinned and said quietly, "I'm happy to hear that." They traded off sitting next to me and even put up with me hugging them a lot. When the movie was over lo and behold it was almost 10:00 and Leo said, "well, why don't we go up?" and so we did. I hugged them and kissed them and told them it was the best Mother's Day ever. I told them as much as I loved my mother I wasn't sure I'd ever given her such a wonderful day and that I so appreciated all they had done for me. They smiled proudly. Lord....I just can't tell you how much I adore those boys. I will savor the memory of this Mother's Day always.

Reasons I Feel Good

It's Saturday morning.

I get to put in seeds and plants in the yard today. 

We have no plans for today other than getting Owen to his guitar lesson.

I'm going to experiment with French green lentil recipes today.

I have too many packets of seeds but that's not a bad problem.

We bought smoked pork chops from Triple S at the farmers' market this morning.

And a poblano pepper plant.

And sugar snap peas.

And asparagus.

And strawberries.

And swiss chard.

And celery.

I'm reading a good book.

As much as I want to the weekend to go slowly...I won't mind too much when Monday comes around.

Each and every one of my boys is beautiful and sweet and they all smell good too.

I had a dream last night that Bobby Flay cooked dinner for me and a bunch of friends. It was a nice dream because in the dream he was a friend of Judi's and we talked about her a lot and looked at pictures of her and my grandparents and he made some of her favorite foods in memory of her.

Rod Picott is going to be here this Friday.

The air feels good.

The world's friendliest roofers are working on the house next door.

Tomorrow is Mothers' Day and Owen is planning to cook dinner for me.

I don't know what Leo is going to do but I know I'll get his sweet smile and a hug.

Owen has beautiful green eyes.

Leo has beautiful brown eyes.

Ernie has beautiful blue eyes.

O.k. I'll stop now.

I hope your Saturday is good.

Bob seems to think I have too many seeds.....

 

 

Balance and Spanakopita

It's hard to balance everything in life.

The spot where things hang in the correct balance is SUCH a small one.

 

Last night Ernie picked me up from work and we headed over to Krannert Center.  They were announcing the upcoming season's shows and there was free wine and food involved. I made the mistake of asking Ernie if he'd given the boys an early dinner. Suffice to say he hadn't, I thought he should have, he thought I was being a bitch and really....we were both right. Eventually he pulled over because he said he couldn't drive if I was going to yell at him. I wasn't yelling. Honest. At least I don't think I was. Eventually we got to KCPA and sat down. He got us both a glass of wine and I took a few sips and told him why I was cranky...that I was worried about A, frustrated with B and tired of C. We both started to relax. He got a little plate of food and let me eat his spanakopita which tasted good even though it was a tad soggy. Things started to feel more balanced.

He got us a second glass of wine and we listened to them run through all the plans for next season. The staff at Krannert Center are ridiculously good at what they do because for the price of some wine and food they got us wanting to buy a HELL of a lot more tickets than we would have otherwise. I kept thinking, "oh, Owen would love that" and "oh, we should take Owen to see THAT" and "well, Leo's just going to have to suck it up because I want to take them BOTH to that."

We won't be able to afford all the tickets we want but we'll get some and figure that's our Christmas present to each other or some other rationalization that I am so good at creating.

And we'll try to make it all balance out.

Sunday Night at the Sandwich Life

Good Lord I am tired this morning. Just could NOT sleep last night…it was hot and no matter what combination of bed, pillow and sheet I came up with, none of them were sleepworthy. I tried reading for a while and then the power went off in our room which it does sometimes. I nudged Ernie, who was sleeping, and told him the power had gone off because usually he can get it to go back on….but he just said sleepily, “sorry hon” and turned over. Sigh. I tried to sleep….waited for the Unisom to kick in….took one of the melatonin Unisoms on top of the others….no go.

I was having weird dreams about Johnny Thunders and photography books and I don’t know what else when the thunder woke me up this morning.  Blegh.

We had a pretty nice weekend overall. Last night after dinner Owen and I were making shortbread in the kitchen. We realized we’d left the salt dish in the media room so he ran to get it and somehow knocked over the 1870’s goblet that Ernie had been using. Hysterical tears.  At first Ernie and I looked at each other and thought “oh no, he’s broken the salt dish he bought in Maine” so we were actually relieved when we realized it was a goblet. Owen, though, was inconsolable. I tried my best to explain that things get broken and when we use antiques we’re taking a chance, but the pleasure of using them makes it worth it. “But that was Dad’s favorite goblet,” he sobbed.  I told him it wasn’t Dad’s favorite and that we could find another one. He finally calmed down a little and we were trying to finish the shortbread.  We continued talking about how things break and blah, blah, blah. Then I came up with the bright idea of telling him that the original salt dish he had bought in Maine had actually gotten broken but we’d found another one and replaced it and kept it a secret from him. I thought it would make him feel better.

It didn’t.

At all.

Very bad idea on my part.

Sigh.

Stupid mother.

Eventually both Owen and I were crying and I think Ernie and Leo wanted to shoot us both.

We pretty much recovered and let the boys stay up late while we watched Mad Men. Owen watched it with us (except when he left because he thought it was ‘inappropriate for him.’). He brought me a piece of shortbread. It was pretty good.

Sigh.

And I found a goblet on eBay just like the one that was broken. It should arrive in a few days.

 

A couple of pictures from the morning's drive:

 

 

Clubs, Sea Turtles and Cheetahs

I was not in the mood to go to the Cancer Center yesterday.  What a stupid thing to say….who in their right mind EVER wants to go to a Cancer Center?  Because, as lovely as the people are, as big as the windows are, as good as the magazine selection sometimes is….it’s the club nobody wants to join. Sometimes though there’s a certain rhythm to the monthly infusions and our routine that feels comforting. We pick a chair near the windows, Ernie puts at least one puzzle piece in one of the jigsaw puzzles in honor of our friend Karen Darr….I go and make him a cup of tea and get myself some ice water….I check out the magazines and grab a few and a nurse comes over to get the IV going and we all marvel at the fact that a month has passed already.

For whatever reason we just didn’t want to be there yesterday.  We just sat quietly and didn’t really talk.

He took me out for a drink at Fries and Peanuts and it was nice but then it seemed too loud to me.  So we went home and had a battle with a certain son that I just wasn’t in the mood for either and it all made me sad.

I felt hostile towards everybody.  I watched American Idol and it just made me more hostile. Although Steven Tyler did come out with a line I liked---something to the effect of "the only thing that gives experience a run for its money is a 16 year old.”

Owen worked on his book on cheetahs for school.  Leo had to do this in fourth grade also.  He chose sea turtles.  Sea turtles and cheetahs.  There’s a contrast…perfect metaphor for my guys in some ways.

Owen printed out some pictures and glued them into his book but then he started really enjoying drawing the illustrations himself.  On the page where it says something like “Female cheetahs are territorial” he drew a picture of a cheetah sitting there…and at the edge of the page you can see another cheetah just extending one paw onto the page….and in the thought bubble of the main cheetah it says, “don’t even THINK about it.”

Man I love those boys. They get me through.

And we saw a peregrine falcon sitting on the traffic light pole right outside the chemo room.  That was nice.

 

 

Most Played Album Award: Rod Picott's Welding Burns

Ernie went to bed before me last night.  A rare occurance.  When I got upstairs I could hear the Rod Picott album playing softly in the dark as Ernie slept.  Sometimes I think that's the way that album sounds the best....in the dark, lying next to an open window. Having Owen snuggled up with you is optional.  That's what Owen and I do a lot...we just lie in the dark and listen to that album (Welding Burns).  Sometimes Owen makes me play a song over if it sounds particularly great (his favorites are 410 and Sheetrock Hanger). 

Honest to God I don't think there is a single album I have listened to as often in the last decade as I have Rod Picott's Welding Burns. I can't even totally articulate why.  There are other songwriters with great writing out there that I adore.....there is some kind of truth in his songs and singing though that creates a visceral reaction for me....and makes me keep playing his songs...sometimes during the day but mostly at night in the dark as I process the day and let myself relax and feel.

Sometimes as I lie there in the dark I am reminded of being a teenager.  I don't quite know why.  Is it just that I used to lie in the dark and listen to albums over and over then? I would put the arm on the record player over so that it would repeat.  Sometimes my sister Judi would come in and turn it off as I was dozing off.

Friday, May 18 at our house....I'll get to listen to Rod in person. 

You know the drill:  potluck at 6:00...music to follow....and Rod has promised to play Sheetrock Hanger for Owen and me....