links for 2008-06-19

• Yes, We Will Have No Bananas | NYTimes.com
  Bananas as we know them are in danger -- from market forces [a needed correction] and from a blight.
  (tags: bananas local food)

Look What Just Arrived

We ordered our wedding rings on Amazon over the weekend. Mine just got here...Ashby's should arrive in the next day or so.

I'm Getting Married!

So, in less than two weeks, I'm getting married! This isn't an intensely personal blog--frankly, I don't normally have that much interesting to say about my personal life. But hey, sometimes things come along that are worth sharing.

Here's the scoop. The 9yo's dad and I divorced when she was 2. I've dated various guys in the intervening years, but several years ago, I had the abrupt realization that I might not meet Mr. Right til I was 50. Or perhaps never. That was when I adopted the 2yo. And that was plenty to keep me more than busy. So I wasn't really looking for Mr. Right, even.

And then, last summer, I ran into an old college acquaintance on Facebook. I knew Ashby in college because I worked on the newspaper, and he was in the Marine Reserves and called up for the Gulf War [the first one], so I interviewed him and another Marine before he left. Ashby wrote letters back to us at the Hustler [Vanderbilt student newspaper, so named in 1888] while he was gone, and I interviewed him again when he came back. That was the extent of our relationship....until Labor Day 2007.

I've run into any number of old friends on Facebook, but with Ashby, there was immediately something more there. Then, the clincher -- after several emails back and forth, he sent me a real, handwritten letter in the mail. Guys, let me tell you, this is an effective tactic.

All fall we visited back and forth between Asheville, NC, where Ashby taught at a boarding school, and here in Nashville. By Thanksgiving we were talking about getting married, and by Christmas, we realized that we actually were planning to get married, like, soon. Finally, one day we looked at each other and said, Umm, we're engaged, aren't we??

The big day is June 28.

links for 2008-06-13

• Frank Schaeffer: Why I'm Pro-life and Pro-Obama | Politics on The Huffington Post
  Interesting post that Michael Hyatt pointed me to.
  (tags: Obama abortion)

links for 2008-06-08

• Finding the Hits, Avoiding the Errors | NYTimes.com
  The best ballpark food in the major leagues....
  (tags: baseball food)

links for 2008-06-06

• Nearly 1 in 10 American Homeowners Face Problems With Loans | NYTimes.com
  These statistics are astounding!! Just in case you didn't know, NEVER GET AN ARM!!!
  (tags: mortgage crisis foreclosure)
• Southern Trails Offer Hikers Waterfalls, Woodlands and Wildflowers | NYTimes.com
  Gotta put these on the list!
  (tags: hiking)

links for 2008-06-04

• LAF Title Check | Dan Zarrella

Peas in progress

Shelling peas

Today Jacob and I went to the farmers' market. We found the rarest of finds -- peas in the shell. You can frequently find shelled butterbeans in the summer, and often shelled peas in the spring, but to find them still in the shell! Wonderful.

Peas in particular must be the freshest of fresh. When you pick peas, all the sugar in them begins converting to starch, and it doesn't take long. You really need to eat them within a day or two of their being picked or they won't be sweet.

So we bought our peas-in-the-shell and brought them straight home for shelling. I was impressed, but even 2yos can help with this.

Then I slightly adapted a recipe I found on 101 Cookbooks. Here's what I did:

I shelled and rinsed my peas. I boiled a pot of water with a little salt, and I dumped all the peas in for 30 seconds exactly. Then I strained them and rinsed them with cold water to stop the cooking.

For each cup of peas, I added
1/2 c. toasted pine nuts
1/2 c. parmesan cheese
Salt
Lemon juice
1 T. olive oil

And whipped the whole thing up in the food processor.

  Pea pesto.

We couldn't stop eating it.

I miss Even Steven

Recently, I was in Target. By the Kleenex. I pulled something out of my purse, and I looked down, and there was a $5 bill in the floor.

Hmm.

Did I just drop that, or did someone else drop it? And not notice? But if they did, how on earth would they know, oh yeah, over in front of the Puffs Plus, that must be where I lost $5. Because in that case, they wouldn't have left it there. Right? Finally, I just decided to pick it up. Because it actually might have been mine.

Sidenote: Yes, I'm one of those people who frequently just leaves money loose in her purse. Also lipstick, and I have a bag for that, too. Because when you leave it loose, the cap comes off and your purse turns pink and sticky.

So, it was kind of cool in the end. I got $5. It might have been mine, or maybe not, but I felt OK about having it.

Wednesday, we drove back from Florida. I had about $16 in my purse, so I stopped at an ATM so we could stop at the aforementioned farm stand. I got a $20 bill at the ATM. I spent $22 at the farm stand. So I should have had about $14 left, right? Later, I bought two Diet Cokes at a convenience store. I had $2 left.

What happened to my other $10?? Remember the Seinfeld episode about even steven? And Jerry drops $20 out the window, and gets $20 in a few minutes from Kramer. Or something like that.

All I'm saying is, if I was $5 up before, wouldn't it have been more appropriate for me to lose $5? Couldn't the karmic forces of the universe have waited for me to change the $10 before seeking their retribution on me?

Oh well.

This tastes like my grandmother

  Fried squash

I have a little bit of synesthesia, related to some random things in my life. I may have mentioned it here before, but 5+8=13 is a blue tennis shoe. Well, 13 of them. [Interestingly, 8+5=13 does nothing for me.] I'm guessing once long ago, I had that illustration in a math workbook. I don't know of other equations that do the same thing for me, but I'm sure they're out there.

Every once in a while, I run into something else like that. Today, I fried some squash, our first of the season. We bought it yesterday afternoon at the Brooks farm stand in Baker, FL. Tasted like it was picked yesterday morning. Delicious.

But while I was eating it -- the first bite -- I had this very distinct sensation of being in my maternal grandmother's kitchen. I could see it, smell it, hear her voice, everything.

Two weird things:
* My mom certainly made me more fried squash than my grandmother did, though both of them counted it as a summertime favorite.

* This incident also turned my thoughts to my paternal grandmother, and I had this involuntary sensation of her food marker, without really thinking about it -- congealed strawberry salad. I can't find the recipe; maybe my mom will chime in in the comments. It has frozen strawberries, cream cheese, Jello? Cool Whip? whipping cream? I have no idea. But then you pour it into little individual aluminum molds. Awesome.