Scout Moves

The other day, Lynn asked what I would do if I had 20 minutes free--no obligations, no work. Free time. I like to take power naps, which I actually time out to be 20 minutes. Anything longer, and I am ruined for the day. So, if I had just 20 minutes of undisturbed time, I might opt for a snooze. I also might opt for some French horn time if I haven't fit that in any other time during the day, or even if I have. I like to practice for an hour a day, but that has become difficult as of late. 20 minutes is better than nothing. Other things I might like to do for 2o minutes: Call my mother who lives in Georgia. I see her twice a year and call once a month or so. I should call more often. Read. I love to read but honestly, sometimes I forget I have books in stacks around the house. Play the piano. Our piano has a disclavier attachment with headphones, so I can switch it from acoustic to digital and play to my heart's content without anyone else hearing the blunders. I can hear them

...to Harper Lee, author of my favorite American novel, To Kill A Mockingbird . I have always wondered why Lee never wrote another novel, but I am certainly glad she wrote this masterpiece of southern living. There are so many scenes I could point to as brilliant in this novel, I don't know where to begin. I will simply point to the lives of Scout (ahem--me), and Jem in rural Alabama during turbulent and changing times.

I have a new car. I have a new car. I have a new car. I traded in my big-ass Pacifica for a Camry Hybrid. It's pretty. See? It has keyless ignition (which seems to serve no purpose but to keep you from having to put the key in the ignition). It has heated seats. It has dual climate control. It has a talking map with little flags to represent the location of restaurant--for example, Bob Evans is marked with an American flag, and a pizza shop is marked with an Italian flag. It has a sunroof which I will never open because the passing wind sucks out my ears. It also has Sirius radio, and so now I have my very own Broadway channel and the Amaazing Seth Rudestsky. I think Seth and I are going to become good friends. Cars don't bring happiness, but this one brings show tunes.

I have no desire to become a vegetarian--I figure I have incisors for a reason, and munching carrots isn't it. But this week I am experimenting with a diet that includes a little less meat. Besides the chicken that was stuffed with feta and sun-dried tomatoes and the bit of prosciutto in the leek fritatta , this week is all about vegetables. I've got a sweet-pepper quiche and a veggie pannini lined up on this week's menu, but for now, here is a simple pasta recipe that proved to be delightful. Enjoy. Linguine with Sweet Tomatoes, Basil, and Cream (from The Gardener's Community Cookbook, Smith & Hawken ) Serves 6 2 tablespoons butter 2 to 3 cloves garlic, finely chopped 4 cups grape tomatoes 1/2 cup heavy cream 1/2 cup shredded fresh basil leaves 1/4 teaspoon salt 1/4 teaspoon pepper 3/4 pound linguine or fettuccine , cooked and drained 1/2 cup Parmesan grated Melt the butter in a large saute pan. Add the garlic and saute over medium-high heat until wilted but not

I could easily do my job at home, like a lot of us. Unless you work in the health care business, law enforcement, or you're a lineman for the electric company, you could probably find a good portion of your work load that could be accomplished from a desk in the corner of your dining room. But here I am at work, in an office, with other people, and no cats. There must be something I can bring to the table while I'm here. A few days ago, I decided that what I can contribute to the greater group of office workers is a coloring contest. I had a cohort in the editorial department--she provided a very silly coloring page, and I provided the crayons. We mumbled to various people in graphics, editorial, and marketing and asked if they wanted to participate in a coloring contest. I expected a few people to have fun with it, which is why I only bought five small boxes of Crayolas. By the time we were finished, I bet 20 people had colored their page. It's at the end of this post in

Isn't it just magnificent? Wouldn't you want to live next door to it, watching the value of your own house slide down the real estate money pole like the Time Square ball on New Year's Eve? Me either. I drive by this "house" every day as I taking my daughter to school. It grows and grows as the owner comes across various building materials at auctions and rummage sales and scrap yards. This guy likes his house. He likes it so much that just several weeks ago when the town met to discuss how to deal with the wart on our otherwise pleasant environment, he defended his creative achievement. He didn't actually attend the meeting, but he spoke to the councilman in charge while thumbing his nose and scratching his ass. The neighbors have tried every option and are now wondering about safety concerns. When the wind blows, stuff is starting to fall off, they say. But that hasn't been documented, and legally, the town is paralyzed . It's not like the homeowne

It was actually a night at the theater, but I love the Marx brothers so much, I thought I'd throw in a movie title in their honor. I could have used A Day At the Races or A Day At the Circus, but that wouldn't be as appropriate. Saturday evening, we made the short trip to Akron to see Rent--it's making its way across country as part of the Broadway Across America tour. I have never seen a production from this series, so I wasn't sure what to expect. Akron has a dinner theater, The Carousel, and I do know what to expect there--quite often, schlock. We saw something bad there once for Valentines, and we were seated with a couple from a Carol Burnett sketch--the woman actually had a mustache and the man had one of the worst cases of psoriasis I have ever seen. OK. Back to Rent. It was performed at EJ Thomas Hall inside the Goodyear Centennial auditorium. The names Goodyear and Firestone are everywhere in Akron because it was once the rubber capital of the world. As my si

...to Charlotte Bronte, author of Jane Eyre . I absolutely loved the book as a kid, but being visual, I was even more enthralled with the movie--the Orson Welles version more so than the George C. Scott version, and I don't even want to talk about the William Hurt version. Although Margaret O'Brien could have been too cute and much too American to be a convincing Adele, and Joan Fontaine wasn't quite plain enough. Still, I'll stick with the 1944 version. While reading Charlotte's brief biography this morning, I discovered her possible cause of death could have been severe vomiting from morning sickness. Huh. I had that, twice. If I had known you could die from that, I might not have opted for that second round. Glad I did, though. Back to birthdays, it's also the birthday of Sister #1. I was six years old and just starting the first grade when she left for college, so she was more like a second mother to me. We have since become real sisters, which is better.

I am not a soccer mom, not literally anyway. I am a tennis mom, though. I watch my kid play tennis every summer/fall when the girls' team season takes place. With each match, the moms gather to make sure they have enough water and snacks and the proper clothing. We sit in sling-back chairs and muffle our cheers and shout out encouragements--"Good shot, girls," "Nice serve"--stuff like that. I like being a tennis mom for these reasons. On the other hand, I don't like being a tennis mom for some other reasons. It has become customary to shower the girls on the team with gifts with each match. Not only do they get the privilege of a school-sponsored program with coaches and nice courts, and they are fed sandwiches and fruit and cookies, now they also have to get little posters with their names plastered all over them. They get their lockers decorated at school. They get a big dinner at the end of the season with door prizes and games. It's not enough to ear

I lifted this Meme from Terroni. I liked her answers so much I kept some of them as mine--only the ones that applied. 3 Things That Scare Me: 1. Failure 2. The dark 3. Spiders 3 People Who Make Me Laugh: 1. The Marx Brothers 2. The entire cast of The Office 3. David Sedaris 3 Things I Love: 1. My French horn 2. Wine 3. Chocolate 3 Things I Hate: 1. Ketchup 2. Exercise 3. Elevator music 3 Things I don't understand: 1. Numbers 2. Women who aren't feminists 3. Plastic surgery 3 Things on my desk: 1. An Etch-a-Sketch 2. Chocolate (yes, Green & Blacks) 3. Pencils 3 Things I am doing right now: 1. Putting on my sock 2. Drinking coffee 3. Watching CNN 3 Things I want to do before I die: 1. Publish my books 2. Earn a permanent seat in an orchestra 3. Be interviewed by Charlie Gibson 3 Things I can do: 1. Knit 2. Imitate a mourning dove 3. Play the piano 3 Things I can't do: 1. Drive a stick shift 2. Cartwheels 3. Speak a foreign language 3 things I think you should listen to:

When I walked into My Favorite Place for Joe this morning, the shop owner was standing behind the counter and watching the news (everyone is watching the news). He barely looked up but took a 16-oz. cup from the stack and said, "Ethiopian, right?" "Right," I said. It's the richest blend he sells--deep and rich and tasting of coffee, unlike some of the milder blends that taste like brown water. It's not that I'm so predictable. It's that the guy knows I like the darker roasts which change from day to day. If I stop by tomorrow, he'll probably take a 16-oz. cup from the stack and say, "Winter Fantasy, right?" Winter Fantasy is a rich roast blend with a hint of cinnamon but just shy of being flavored. The guy also knows I don't like flavored coffee. When I walk into the dry cleaners just around the corner, I am greeted by Buster and Buzz, two little white Scottie dogs. I call them "Scottie dogs" because I'm not sure what

...as if all of my posts aren't diversions for what goes on in the world. We have all suffered a nearly unspeakable tragedy here in this country--possibly all of humanity has suffered. Every news program with air time will devote its coverage to the shooting at Virginia Tech and to the gun control debate and to keeping a tally of the fatalities and injuries. I, on the other hand, will write about my weekend. The diversion: My orchestra performed a concert devoted to the French. Usually, when I hear a phrase like that, I say, "I hate the French," but I really just hate their attitude, or at least the attitude I perceive from time to time. A couple of years ago, we hosted a French student for three weeks while she was in the states visiting a friend. She barely spoke English, and we barely spoke French (actually, the only word I could remember was the word for window, which proved useless). We spent our evenings working on jigsaw puzzles because you don't have to talk t

...to Charlie Chaplin. I know Charlie Chaplin from watching his silent films as a kid, and I know that he left the states during the McCarthy era and did not return until he received an honorary Oscar in 1972. I remember that Oscar program, vaguely, and really only because Charlie Chaplin actually showed up. I did not know anything else about Charlie Chaplin until reading his biography on Wikipedia . I won't recount it for you because you'll find much more information if you just read it for yourself. Note the long list of women under the category of "Relationships with Women." My middle school had a lunch-time program that included special classes--20 minutes of extra resources for children hungry for learning. We listened to lectures on farming (which I skipped which is why I received a detention--my only one ever), discussions on the nature of sound waves, and occasionally special showings of silent films. Besides those films starring Buster Keaton and Fatty Arbuc

All this time spent with Sirius radio and the Broadway channel has got me stuck on show tunes. I can't get them out of my head. I am a Readers' Digest baby--I grew up in a house filled with Readers ' Digest books, the condensed ones my mother read from cover to faux -leather-bound cover. We received a shipment every month. It was through this book club that my mother ordered a song book full of all the great show tunes from Broadway and from the movies. We kept it open at the piano, so it was always available to me when I wanted to sit down and plunk out a few tunes. I discovered George and Ira Gershwin: There's a somebody I'm longing to see...I hope that he turns out to be ...Someone who'll watch over me I fell in love with the tunes of Show Boat (hooray for Kern and Hammerstein--oh, and the gorgeous Howard Keel) : Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly...I gotta love one man 'til I die...So I can't help lovin ' that man of mine. I played Cole Porter: Tim

Because husband is away on a golfing trip this week, I am driving his car, partly because it's the one in the garage, all toasty and warm on these chilly mornings, and partly because it is equipped with Sirius radio. This week I have a world of music genres within my reach--just turn the dial and pick a tune--hip hop, pop, jazz, classical, blues, spiritual, easy listening (ick), classical. At first I thought I would listen to symphonies, but then I discovered Broadway. The Broadway channel plays one delightful show tune after another, in no particular order. It's not all Oklahoma and State Fair--there is plenty on this channel I have never heard before, all mixed in with the classics. On the way to work yesterday, I heard M.U.E from 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee (You'll have to look this one up because my charming and chaste site can't handle the lyrics, and if I posted them, you'd all fall out of your chairs from the shock), and at lunch I heard I Can Do A

Yes, I know it's Wednesday, but if Dive gets to do the Monday thing on Tuesday, then I should be allowed to do it on Wednesday. So here goes: The Monday Melee 1. The Misanthtropic : Name something (about humanity) you absolutely hate. Irresponsible parenting. We're all guilty on some level, but the extreme cases just effect us all so badly in the long run. 2. The Meretricious: Expose something or someone that’s phony, fraudulent or bogus. The 50 gazillion different kinds of shampoo on the market shelves. It's all the same soapy crap but in different bottles with different names and supposedly for different purposes. Poo. No, SHAMpoo . Get it? I love the pun. 3. The Malcontent: Name something you’re unhappy with. The coffee at work is just not up to par. I would like to have my bean-grinding machine from home right there in my office. 4. The Meritorious: Give someone credit for something and name it if you can. Daughter #2 greeted me Monday evening after I returned from an

Just a little band trip story for you. I've got a hundred of 'em. On one particularly hot day, after watching the steel band perform at Downtown Disney, one of my buddies and I hopped on a bus to ride the 25 minutes back to our hotel. We found comfortable seats and sat back to relax. At the next stop, a family joined us with two small children. My buddy, being a gentleman, gave up his seat for the father who was holding a sleepy two year old. The little boy's sister proceeded to pester the poor kid, making him fuss. The parents were gentle and reprimanded the pesky sister with inside voices and loving tones. Good parents. At the next stop, two women climbed on, each with a giant folded stroller, a giant shopping bag, and a sticky baby in her arms. I gave up my seat for one of the mothers and stood in front of her. She was thankful and plopped down. Her baby, on the other hand, belted me right in the gut for my thoughtfulness. That's when the mother screamed at her. She

This is Daughter #2 and I with Goofy, my favorite Disney character second to Jiminy Cricket. Again with the fatty shirt--oh well.

I have been debating with myself about how to tell my trip story--a day-by-day breakdown with details of our itinerary, word-for-word conversations, photos of every single activity--all of this might be too much information. So I have decided to be concise. It was very nice. No, just kidding. It was a great trip, and I am so glad I decided to participate . Here is a little more detail which I hope will not be too much: The Bus Ride: I got two seats to myself, so I was able to spread out and do my best to get some sleep--thank God I brought along a travel-sized pillow. Here is a picture of the seat beside me filled with all of the things I used to pass the time. There is a mildly IQ-depleted member of the band, a very sweet girl who lacks malice but does not lack quirks. She was seated in front of me--there was no lack of extreme body odor, nose picking followed by finger licking, and sudden bursts of vocal enthusiasm from that seat. But overall, the kids on the bus were enjoyable--not

I know Easter is about the resurrection of Jesus, but I will celebrate in a nonspiritual way by sharing our dessert with you all. Rich suggested I let someone else do the cooking because I am ill although improving, but I made dinner anyway--relatively simple and not too time consuming. The only time-consuming element was the lemon curd for the trifle. I didn't have enough energy to stir the curd long enough, so it was a little thin. Hint: when your head is all stuffy, be generous with the Grand Marnier . You won't care so much that you feel icky: Lemon Curd Trifle with Fresh Berries courtesy Tyler Florence 6 large egg yolks 1 cup sugar 4 lemons, zested and juiced (note: I only used the zest of one lemon) 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut in chunks 1 pint fresh strawberries, stemmed and halved lengthwise 1 pint fresh blueberries 1 pint fresh blackberries 2 cups sweetened whipped cream 1 prepared lemon pound cake, sliced 1/4 cup Lemoncello or Grand Marnier liqueur (opti

I am still pondering the trip post-- hmm , should it be a synopsis or a full-blown tale telling? While I am working on it, here is the Mickey Shorts Potholder I picked up. It is particularly useless as a potholder but very cute as a souvenir . Daughter #1 thought it was Mickey Ass, but I'm afraid it's Mickey crotch instead.

I had an incredible time, but I can't write about it yet--not only did I come home with a brand new Goofy coffee mug and a potholder shaped like Mickey's shorts, I also came home with a death-defying, sinus-clogging, bronchial-infecting, ear-stopping cold. At least I am clean. I will write with a few pictures as soon as I can gather my thoughts. Have a magical day, as they say in Disney World.