Category Archives: Uncategorized

Ochazuke

Yesterday I wrote about Teaism, one of my favorite spots in DC. I like to go to the flagship tiny little two-story tea house in Dupont Circle, but there are two other DC locations in Lafayette Park, Penn Quarter, and one in Old Town, Alexandria.

Apart from their extensive tea selection, they are best known for their Japanese and Indian food. Customers also rave about their Salty Oat Cookie. The reason I like to go to Teaism is for the ochazuke. Ochazuke is a simple rice dish sprinkled with a variety of toppings such as fish, pickled vegetables, crumbled rice crackers, seaweed, or wasabi. Green tea is poured over the top to create a kind of soup. It’s a good way to use up leftover rice and is served as a snack, at the end of a meal, or as a hangover cure.

Today, I tried to recreate the salmon ochazuke I had at Teaism with:

1 microwaved cup of Minute Rice brown rice:

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Salmon Furikake (A condiment  used to add flavor to plain rice. Furikake comes in different blends and is made of a variety of ingredients, such as sesame seeds, nori, dried fish flakes, and salt).

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Crumbled rice cakes:

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And some green tea:

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Verdict? Not nearly as good as Teaism’s, but a super quick and easy, decent approximation.

Hope your weekend is full of wonderful discoveries!

PACEM

On Saturday our Helping Hands kids (an after school service group I co-lead) helped transform the Fellowship Hall of Westminster Presbyterian Church into a PACEM homeless shelter:

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Many years ago, my children and I took a train trip to Staunton, Virginia. The train goes past the woods behind Farmington Country Club, perhaps the most exclusive neighborhood in Charlottesville. The expansive and luxurious homes here sell for millions of dollars. As I looked out the window, I noticed that there were blue tarps scattered throughout the trees. I was shocked to realize that homeless people were living there. On another occasion, the Helping Hands kids were picking up trash from the nature trail behind our elementary school. From the debris we found, we realized that there must be people living in the woods there as well. The best estimate we have is that there are about 240 homeless people in our community. Another sobering statistic says that there are about 450 children in our area who are either homeless or living in shelters that are unfit for human habitation.

PACEM (People and Congregations Engaged in Ministry) is a grassroots interfaith organization that formed in 2004 to address the problem of homelessness in Charlottesville after members of the clergy reported the common experience of finding homeless individuals sleeping in the doorways of their churches. PACEM coordinates volunteers and space (mostly in churches and temples) for a rotating shelter that operates in the colder months when homeless individuals are most vulnerable. From late October to early April, homeless men and women come to an intake center on the Downtown Mall. From there they are transported to separate shelters (one for men and one for women), where they receive a warm dinner and a bed for the night. In the morning they are served breakfast and are transported back to the Downtown Mall.

My family has learned a lot from volunteering with PACEM over the years. I had always assumed, for example, that the homeless were also jobless. I was surprised to learn that many of the PACEM guests do in fact have jobs. Many of them work physically demanding construction jobs. Recently, I also learned that there are young PACEM guests, who are students in one of our local public high schools. The very first year we helped with PACEM, my oldest son was about seven or eight years old. One evening we helped cook and serve dinner. The staff gave him the special job of loading up a dinner plate for a guest who used a walker and would have found it hard to go through the cafeteria-style line. My son delivered his plate to him at his table and then sat down to chat with him for a few minutes. I remained in the kitchen serving up food to the other guests. My son ran back to find me in the kitchen, and said excitedly, “Guess what?! He speaks English, just like us and he was really, really nice!” In that moment I realized how valuable this program is, not only for the homeless individuals it serves, but for the volunteers who see the human face of homelessness.

To learn more about PACEM and how you can help, please click here.

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True Love

IMG_7076Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, the day we celebrate romantic love. Couples will exchange kisses. They’ll gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes over candle-lit dinners. Many will get engaged. Bouquets of roses and boxes of chocolates will be given.

Today I celebrate a higher order of love. This love is not expressed with cards or chocolate, but with bitter tears. This type of love is messy, sad, and complicated. It’s what remains when falling in love happened a million years ago, and maybe it’s even what remains after we’ve fallen out of love. It sears us with pain. We should all be so lucky to experience it.

My dear friend’s husband died yesterday. When she first met him, there was a lightness in her step, a twinkle in her eye, and a quiet joy that I’d never seen in her before. On their wedding day the look of adoration in her husband’s eyes brought tears to my own. He looked as if he couldn’t believe his luck to be standing next to this amazing woman. The words he spoke during their vows reassured me that he knew her worth. He understood who she was and truly, deeply appreciated the person who was joining her life to his.

That was then, and it was beautiful. In these past few months, my friend’s husband became so ill that he slept most of the time. My friend’s days revolved around his pain management. They made plans not for the future, but for the end. They met with hospice workers. They discussed funeral arrangements. The twinkle in my friend’s eye was long gone, and had been replaced by sad resignation. Pill bottles, delirium, mental and physical exhaustion are not beautiful, and yet this formed the backdrop of a scene of pure and exquisite love that surpassed any romantic love they shared in the salad days of their relationship. So today, the day before Valentine’s Day, I celebrate this love and the fact that my friend’s husband was blessed to experience it as he left this world, and that my friend had the strength, courage, and love to give him this gift above all gifts.

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Dear Mr. President

Dear Mr. President,

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Four years ago, on your first Inauguration Day, we sat in the lobby of a hotel in Orlando with suitcases at our feet and our eyes glued to the T.V. screen. We had just spent the long weekend at Disney World, and were about to head to the airport. We were glad to have the opportunity to listen to your speech before leaving.

Your words were grave. You outlined the many challenges before us as you described the “winter of our hardship.” But you told us:

“We have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord…The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirt; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.”

We tried to explain to our children how important this day was and why people (everyone from other hotel guests to hotel workers who had abandoned their posts to hear your address) were wiping away tears as they listened to your words. There was a lot of love for you in the room that morning, Mr. President.

We didn’t get to see you when I took my children to the Easter Egg Roll at the White House, but I had a whole speech planned out just in case we got to meet you. I wanted to tell you that eight-year old Nicholas had campaigned hard for you. He made up campaign posters and tacked them to the trees in the woods behind our house. I’m fairly confident that he had all the squirrels in our neighborhood convinced that you were the man for the job!

Hula hooping in front of the White House
Tatiana hula hooping
Easter Egg Roll
Easter Egg Roll

My sister did get to meet you not too long ago. Knowing how much it would mean to my parents, she sent the photo to them in Korea. Later our cousins told us that my parents left it lying prominently in the middle of their coffee table, where everyone would have to see it. Whenever anyone would come to visit, they would say very casually, “Oh, that? Oh, yes, mmm hmm…our daughter met the President of the United States.”

IMG_0841Mr. President, it hasn’t been an easy four years, but you’ve acted with wisdom, integrity, and humanity. Your recent proposals to enact gun control are a perfect example of how you are working for “a better history” and a society where everyone can “pursue their full measure of happiness.”

Thank you for all that you have done and for taking on the hard work of the next four years.

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Lost

IMG_1300A spectacularly bad sense of direction has plagued me for years. You can’t even imagine how much time I lose on a regular basis because of my inability to navigate, not to mention the psychic toll I’ve paid over the course of many years of being lost (and completely losing it) on beltways, highways, byways, and windy back country roads…

When we first moved to Charlottesville, before the GPS existed, I would call Colin from the road in a panic. A typical call would go something like this:

“Hell-”

“I have no idea where I am! I’ve been driving for an hour and a half and I can’t find my way back home!”

“Where are you now?”

“What do you mean?! I just told you I have NO IDEA where I am! That’s why I’m calling you!”

“But can you see any road signs? Do you recognize anything?”

“Ummmm…OK, wait…There’s a fire hydrant on the right. Uh…I’m passing a big oak tree on the left. There’s…a field with black and white cows in it.”

It wasn’t as if I could go somewhere once, twice, or even three times and then be able to figure out how to get there again. I’m not exaggerating when I say that this has been a fairly serious handicap in my life, one which could easily have turned me into a homebound recluse. I was extremely reluctant to go anywhere I hadn’t been before, and stopped going anywhere alone at night.

In those early days there was one particular class I really wanted to go to, but after repeatedly getting lost en route there and back, I was going to give up on it. That’s when Colin came to the rescue with an ingenious plan. He made a recording of directions for me, with a sensitive understanding of the kind of directions that would be meaningful to me.

“Go down a steep hill, and then up a hill. Pass the house on the left with a giant pumpkin,” I’d hear on the tape. (Do any C’villians remember the house on Rio Road that used to always have a huge papier mâché pumpkin in the front yard around Halloween)? “Now turn off the tape until you see the traffic light at the T-junction.” On the flip side he recorded directions to get me back home, because: yes, I needed them.

It worked! I got to my class and back without any problems! I continued to rely on my tape for the next week or so. One day I was on my way to class when I felt around for the tape so that I could pop it into the cassette deck. Suddenly, I remembered with horror that I had taken it out when I had cleaned the car and had forgotten to put it back in. My heart started thumping and I considered just pulling over, but as I continued to drive I realized I could hear Colin’s voice in my head, narrating the directions. I had the whole thing memorized!

“Pass the house on the left with a giant pumpkin.” YES, by George! There it was! It was like a miracle. How did he know it would be there?!  I never needed to use the tape again.

Colin bought me my first GPS in preparation for the sabbatical year we spent in Carrboro, NC four years ago. It was a revelation. I never felt so liberated in all my life. I spent the whole year driving confidently around the the Triangle with my new best friend, the GPS lady.

One day as I was about to pull out of the driveway, Colin appeared at my window. I rolled it down and he leaned in to give me directions. I raised my hand and interrupted him to say airily, “I don’t need you anymore. I have my GPS.” Honestly, he looked like he might cry.

Sure, I ended up in a corn field once when I was trying to get to the mall. Sure, I didn’t particularly appreciate GPS Lady’s tone of voice whenever I missed a turn she had pointed out to me. Her “recalculating”s always sounded slightly pissy to me. I was just waiting for the day when instead of “recalculating” I’d hear her say in her cool, modulated tone, “You Dumbass. I said, turn right onto Hillsboro Avenue.” But apart from a few hiccups here and there, the GPS was a rousing success.

And then came…the iphone! At first I tried to ditch GPS Lady, but the lack of voice directions meant that the iphone navigation wasn’t useful to me. Then with the latest upgrade, which included voice directions, Siri became my new co-pilot. I thought this was going to be another dramatic, life-changing breakthrough for me. I thought we were going to be BFFs.

But while GPS Lady and I had a tense, but cordial relationship, Siri and I have far stormier, conflictual interactions. Basically, we want to pimp slap each other on a regular basis.

This Sunday I was trying to get my kids to a roller skating birthday party at the Greenwood Community Center in Crozet. Here’s a transcript of the fight we had:

“Directions to Greenwood Community Center”

“I didn’t find  any places matching Greenwood Community Center”

“Find Greenwood Road”

“Here’s Broad Ave., Charlottesville. I’m not certain this is where you meant. Though.”

(Now I know she’s just messing with me).

“GREENWOOD ROAD in CROZET”

“I don’t know what you mean by Kroes A”

“I said, ‘CROZET!’ C-R-O-Z-E-T!!!”  I shriek, “Where is Greenwood Community Center in CROZET?!”

My three children are very, very quiet in the back seat.

“Sorry, I don’t know where that is.”

“What good are you to me?!”

“Checking my sources. Would you like me to search the web for ‘What good are you to me?'”

“I thought we were friends. You’re DEAD to me, Siri. Do you hear? DEAD to me!”

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Top Ten Toys for 2012

Black Friday shopping? Read this first!

1) Plush microbes

We discovered these when we lived in Carrboro. We would make frequent visits to a great store called Chapel Hill Comics. The store had an amazing selection of comic books, but my son Nicholas was magnetically drawn to their display basket of plush microbes. He would lovingly fondle Ebola or E.coli…and then he’d ask me if I would buy Chlamydia for him.

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Just…because.”

“Well, can I get Gonno, Goh No…”

“No. No. No. You can’t have Gonorrhea.”

“How about Syphilis?”

“NO! No, Nicholas. Just stop, OK? Here, I’ll get you Salmonella.”

2) Mr. Potato Head, a classic toy with a twist:

3) Canned Unicorn at thinkgeek.com for your favorite “quirky” little foodie:

4) F.A.O. Schwartz has the Barbie Foosball table for the kid who has everything:

5) My kids got this Racing Grannies set from their own Granny.

Or, if you prefer: Racing Granddads, complete with double-barreled oxygen tanks!

6)The BugZooka

My kids aren’t even allowed to have water guns. But the BugZooka is now our most cherished possession. Lock and load.

7) Bacon flavored toothpaste stocking stuffer:

Is it just me, or is anyone else ready for bacon chic to be over already?!

8) Monster High Venus McFlytrap

No joke: this is listed as one of Amazon.com’s bestselling dolls. I’m not feeling it…

9)Hearthsong has Buddy Bumper Balls for siblings who love/hate each other:

10) A real Dustbuster

Toy companies sell toy vacuums that have very weak suction…Why not get a real dustbuster or vacuum for your kids to “play” with? Bwahahahahahahahaha!!!

To all you parents out there who want to get a head start on their Christmas shopping: you’re welcome!

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Signs of our times

Tomorrow I’ll join the hordes on the highway as I head to Arlington to spend Thanksgiving with my family. I’m going to republish three old posts on Wednesday through Friday and will return on Monday with new ones.

Seen around grounds…

Globalization on steroids:And my all time favorite:

I just did a little research and discovered a facebook page dedicated to the “Take what you need project.”

Happy Thanksgiving!

Who’s that naked flying man in front of the library?

I’ve always loved the odd statue in front of Clemons Library at the University of Virginia. It stands out so audaciously against the staid, predictable colonial architecture for which the University is famous. The bronze statue of a well-muscled figure about to push off from the earth into flight stands 12 feet high, and sits on a solid pedestal. But rather than seeming heroic, it has a very human feel to it. Aside from the strap-on pair of wings, the figure is wearing only a comical looking helmet and what looks like a jockstrap. He is perched precariously on a lumpy, malformed globe. His stance is awkward and unsure. It could be the depiction of an escapade dreamed up by inebriated frat boys.

So who is this naked flying man who graces the courtyard of Clemons Library?

James Rogers McConnell entered the University of Virginia in 1907. He wholeheartedly launched himself into the life of the college, becoming in short order: the King of the Hot Foot Society (now the “IMP Society”), the Editor-in-Chief of the now defunct Corks and Curls, the President and co-founder of the Aero Club, a member of the Seven Society, a member of Beta Theta Pi, and a cheerleader. He gained a reputation for being a prankster, a hard-drinking frat boy, and a bagpipe player. He dropped out after only two years in the college and one year at the law school, (too much partying, not enough studying, perhaps?), but during his short time at the university, and indeed in his short time on earth: he lived his life with gusto.

In 1915, McConnell sailed to France to join the war effort. For a year he drove an ambulance for the American Ambulance Corps on the Western Front, earning the Croix de Guerre for bravery. Feeling compelled to do more, he joined the French Air Force and became one of the first members of the Lafayette Escadrille, a group comprised largely of American volunteer fighter pilots. The next year, while recuperating from a back injury caused by a rough landing, he wrote a memoir entitled Flying for France. On March 19, 1917, 30 year old James McConnell was killed when his plane was shot down during aerial combat with two German fighter planes. America had not yet even entered the war.

Alumni petitioned the university to honor this somewhat unlikely hero and UVA dropout as a model of courage and self-sacrifice. A press release from President Alderman’s office dated June 23, 1919 says, “There was a certain singular quality of heroism in the circumstances of his devotion and death that make a great appeal to the students and alumni of the institution.” Gutzon Borglum, the Danish-American sculptor best known for the monumental carving of the presidents on Mount Rushmore, was commissioned to create the memorial.

I imagine this quirky representation of McConnell as Icarus, gave pause to the administration when it was unveiled in 1919. In a letter written to a friend, President Alderman’s relief that there was no public outcry at the ceremony is palpable: “…what I think will amaze you is that practically everybody is enthusiastic about it.”

Armistead Dobie, the judge and UVA law professor who accepted “The Aviator” on behalf of the university described McConnell with these words at the statue’s unveiling: “To me the most characteristic trait of Jim McConnell’s nature was a hatred of the humdrum, an abhorrence of the commonplace, a passion for the picturesque.” (University of Virginia Alumni News, Vol. VII, July 1919, Number 12, p. 252).

Over the years the statue has been called an unseemly eyesore and there have been calls for its removal, but I’m guessing that McConnell would have heartily approved of the tribute.

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Ruffled feathers

I’m still processing what happened tonight. In my Facebook post I wrote, “I think the voice of reason carried the day.” The “think” reflects the fact that it really wasn’t a clear cut victory.

On the one hand, it was clear that there are people in our school community who are not happy with the way the PTO has been operating. I was so very grateful to all of the people who came out and spoke up about their disaffection with the PTO’s lack of strategic vision, and not only in regard to my proposal. A motion was made to form a committee to enumerate principles that govern the legitimate spending of  PTO funds. The committee will evaluate whether or not it makes sense to carry over ever increasing balances from year to year and what constitutes a legitimate spending proposal.

On the other hand, the president steadfastly maintained that my proposal could not be put to a vote. And for very different, but equally flawed reasons:

1) Fiduciary responsbility to the donors under section 501(c)(3).

I admit I had to do a little research into this one. The PTO bylaws state that: “This PTO is organized exclusively for charitable and educational purposes, including, for such purposes, the making of distributions to organizations that qualify as exempt organizations under section 501(c)(3)…” Doesn’t this actually support my request?

2) It would be unfair (the word ‘unethical’ was used) to people who’ve donated money to not know exactly how that money would be spent.

When I write checks to charitable organizations and (in the past) to this PTO, it would never occur to me that I needed to know exactly how my money would be spent. If I make a donation, I’m assuming that the organization will use it as it best sees fit. And the use of the word “unethical” in the context of helping Haitian orphans is really pretty ridiculous. 

3) The executive board has the right to determine what can be brought to a vote, because “What if some crazy person brought up a crazy proposal…? As these words came out of the president’s mouth, she glanced at me sideways and said, “Of course, I don’t mean to imply that this is a crazy proposal!” I couldn’t resist, “Uh, yeah…it wasn’t like I was proposing that we install stripper poles in the hallway.”

But even if some crazy person did bring up some crazy proposal: this is exactly what votes are for, no?

3) It’s not appropriate to use money given to the school that will only benefit people outside the school.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. This is selfish, shortsighted, and untrue. We are teaching valuable lessons to our own children when we empower them to help others.

4) It would be a mistake to bring this issue up for a vote, because it would be too divisive.

The issue really became divisive because opinions were summarily squelched! 

At the end of the meeting the genuinely sweet president hastened to disabuse me of the notion that my proposal couldn’t be discussed, just that it couldn’t be put to a vote! ?!?!?!?!

The majority of the people in the room argued that funding Make a Difference Day does in fact support and enrich the education of “our” children. But instead of dipping into that ever-growing pot of gold, it was decided that all proceeds from the first of several Kids’ Night Out events, (if you’ll remember, this was our service group’s fundraiser that was appropriated by the PTO), would go to fund the Make a Difference Day project. Members of the executive board argued that this was the only way parents would be able to know exactly where their money would be spent. I have mixed feelings about this. Yes, I’m glad that PTO funds will be used in one way or another for this project, but it doesn’t address the basic fact that a reasonable request for funds was not even allowed to be put forth for a vote. It doesn’t address the fact that we have ample funds here and now that could be used for this purpose.

As for the child whose house burned down? For now, the school, the county, and individuals in our community are donating money and gift cards. The principal says that for now the family is saying that this is enough. The issue of taking care of our own children in need will hopefully be addressed by the committee being headed up by none other than my own husband.

So is this a victory? Sort of.