White Christmas in Walla Walla

We drove over to Walla Walla on Tuesday only to find it blanked by almost three feet of snow. While it regularly snows in Eastern Washington in winter, people in Walla Walla have not seen this much snow for at least 40 years.

Here are some photos I took while on a walk on Wednesday morning.

Snowed In In Western Washington

I interrupt my coverage of our Thanksgiving holidays to bring you a glimpse of the beginning of our Christmas holiday in the Pacific Northwest.

Some background first. Woodinville, Washington, is a Seattle suburb, located to the east of Lake Washington and just north of the town of Redmond. The average temperature in Woodinville for December is comfortably above freezing--high of 46F, low of 35F. It hardly ever snows here, and when it does, the snow melts away in a blink of an eye. They sand, but do not salt the roads here on principal. Given how little snow usually falls here, there is little snow removal equipment sitting around.

When we arrived here on Thursday, there was already over a foot of snow on the ground. Since Saturday night, at least another 6 inches fell. The temperature yesterday barely edged above the freezing point and went right back down to the low of 27F. And the roads... Well, no one is clearing the local roads. There is just barely enough equipment to clear the highways, and state routes. The buses are running with chains around their rear tires.

As for us, we ventured out with sleds.

Thanksgiving Recap--The Corn Bake Recipe Evolution

My family first tasted the corn bake dish while celebrating Thanksgiving with our family friends, the Polskys. The dish is simple to make, and the result is similar to super moist corn bread.

The Original Corn Bake Recipe
1 egg
½ cup (1 stick) butter
1 cup of sour cream
1 can of cream style corn
1 can of kernel corn drained
1 package of Jiffy corn muffin mix

Mix all the ingredients together (I find it easier to mix in the cans of corn and the muffin mix last). Pour into a greased 9 x 9 inch square dish, cover with foil, bake for about an hour at 325F. Then remove the foil, and bake for another 15-30 minutes till doneness at 375F.


The corn bake dish has been a part of every Thanksgiving dinner for almost two decades. However, this year I decided that it was time for a change--I no longer wanted to stock up on Jiffy muffin mix, and I was disappointed to learn that the corn is not vegetarian because Jiffy muffin mix contains lard.

I used this corn bread recipe—the quickest fastest simplest recipe ever for a decent corn bread—as a point of reference. I also studied the ingredients of the Jiff corn muffin mix, which essentially boiled down to flour, corn meal, baking soda, salt and sugar.

After the first attempt, I decreased the amount of corn meal, and switched to using maple syrup instead of sugar or honey. The second attempt was a success, and that is exactly what mom baked for our Thanksgiving dinner.

The New Corn Bake Recipe
1 cup wheat flour
¾ cups corn meal
1 ½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
1 egg beaten
¼ cup (½ stick) of butter, melted
1 cup plain yogurt (we used low-fat)
3 Tbsp maple syrup (honey can be substituted)
1 can of cream style corn
¼ cup corn (from a can or frozen and thawed; more can be added to taste)

Mix the wet ingredients. Then mix in the dry ingredients. Pour into a greased 9 x 9 inch square dish, cover with foil, bake for about an hour at 325F. Then remove the foil, and bake for another 15-30 minutes till doneness at 375F.

Thanksgiving Recap--The Stuffing Saga

Did you know that most surveys show that stuffing is most people’s favorite Thanksgiving dish. Stuffing, not turkey!

People in my family are not big stuffing eaters, and I knew that Nick and I would be pretty much the only people eating the stuffing. So the goal became to cook the stuffing to please Nick, and the way to please Nick with food is to make it the way Nick’s family made it. A brief conversation with Nick’s mom revealed that she uses a stuffing mix. This was not good enough, because I was determined to cook everything from scratch. The search for the perfect recipe continued.

Nick’s mom makes a relatively simple stuffing—bread cubes, seasoning from the mix (probably poultry seasoning), celery and onion sautéed in butter, lots of sage. So I had to eliminate any recipe that called for nuts, dried fruit, berries, sausage, mushrooms, or other similarly “exotic” ingredients. The remaining choices were slim. After eliminating Martha Stewart’s recipe that mysteriously required eggs, I was left with a New York Times stuffing recipe where the only ingredient not mentioned by Nick’s mom was vinegar.

I ran out of turkey broth and did not feel adventurous enough to add more water, so the result was a bit dry. However, the stuffing tasted quite good in the spots where I managed to pour enough broth, so the next attempt should be a lot more palatable.

Breaking The Silence

I just wanted to reassure all of you that I am still around, and I did not give up on my blog. I just had to put it on the back burner while cooking and card printing required all of my energy and creativity. Thanksgiving is over, so I am done with scanning recipes till my eyes hurt, making shopping lists and cooking schedules, and more importantly I am done cooking till 2am for awhile. A full report on the ups and downs of my Thanksgiving cooking spree is coming soon… but not before the Craft Fair.

That’s right. I signed up to participate in the Craft Fair at work, and it is this Thursday. While I have spent hours drawing and cutting linoleum, my inventory is still very low. So for the next five days I will be printing, printing and printing. Did I mention printing?

Wish me luck!

Here Comes Moyshe Haim

You may remember a somewhat legendary story about Moyshe Haim that I posted in September. Well, now I know what he looked liked. Tetya Rosa, thank you so much for scanning in these wonderful old photographs and emailing them to us.

In the photo above, Moyshe Haim is sitting down with his wife Mati (Matilda may have been her full name). Their two daughters, Dora (on the left) and Eva, are standing behind them. Dora is my great grandmother--my grandfather's mother.

I was intrigued that the photo has English writing on it--"cabinet portrait," so I looked it up. "Cabinet portrait" seems to refer to the photograph's format, which originated in England in mid 19th century and soon became very popular. Judging from other old photographs that say "cabinet portrait" on them, I think the back of the photo may have more information about where and when the photo was taken.

What I Worked On Most of the Weekend

Another Confession

Last Saturday I had a beer—my very first bottle of beer.

I know that this fact is hard to believe, but the truth is that I have never liked beer. And it was not for the lack of trying. I have tasted other peoples’ beers. I have ordered shot size samplers at restaurants. I have gone to beer tastings at breweries. All of those beers smelled good, but tasted bad to me.

I have more or less given up, and assumed that, just like my mother, I simply do not like any beer. That was until a few months ago, when I tried a Japanese white ale at a party. At last there was the beer I actually enjoyed drinking as well as smelling.

So last Saturday, when we went to have dinner at The Publick House in Brookline, famous for their enormous beer selection, I decided that I was finally ready to have a beer. The restaurant carried several Belgian white ales, and Nick picked Wittekerke for me. So there it was—my first beer, ordered specifically for me, consumed and enjoyed entirely by me.

Little Red Rooster

I started my own Etsy shop. (Etsy is an internet portal for people to buy and sell handmade items.) The one and only item I am currently selling is a blank greeting card. It is a Little Red Rooster greeting card.
While trying to pick a name for my shop, I realized that I work for a company called the MathWorks, I belong to a gym called the FitWorks, and my cousin-in-law runs a business called the Crowerks.

The Never Ending Fight Over The Yawkey Stop

Last week we sent the following letter to Mr. Daniel Grabauskas, the General Manager of the MBTA in reply to his last letter we received in June.

Dear Mr. Grabauskas,

Thank you very much for your letter of June 2, 2008. Again we appreciate your taking the time to answer our questions and address our concerns.

We would like to take this opportunity to present you with the reasons why the daily service to the Yawkey station should be restored for the P528 train. Each of the following reasons is explained in more detail below.
1) The P528 train is routinely on time when stopping at the Yawkey station for the Red Sox games, which demonstrates that the train will continue to run on time when making this stop on non-game days.
2) There is no evidence to show that the elimination of the P528 stop at the Yawkey station caused the on time performance improvements on the Framingham/Worcester line.
3) The number of people who regularly used the Yawkey station stop on the P528 train before the schedule change, and who will continue to use it if the stop is reintroduced far exceeds the count of 3 or 4 that the study you sited estimated.

1) In your letter you state that “between February 19 and May 12 [2008], P528 has been on time 59 out of 60 days for an OTP of 98%.” We are pleased to see such excellent on time performance. According to the Red Sox game schedule, there were 11 weekday evening home games between February 19 and May 12, 2008. We thus conclude that when P528 made the stop at Yawkey it was on time at least 10 out of 11 times (for an OTP of 91%), and potentially 11 out of 11 times (for an OTP of 100%), depending on when the single delay in question occurred. Such excellent on time performance on Red Sox evening game days when ridership is higher then normal indicates that the P528 train can consistently run on time while making the stop at Yawkey on non-game days.

2) We are happy to experience the improved on time performance of the trains on the Framingham/Worcester line. However, so far we have not been presented with any conclusive evidence that the OTP improvements resulted from the elimination of the stop at Yawkey. In fact, the elimination of the Yawkey station stop for the P528 train was one of multiple schedule changes applied to all trains on the Framingham/Worcester Line on February 18, 2008. Thus, there is no baseline data to which the current data can be compared.

3) We continue to believe that your estimates for the number of passengers regularly riding the P528 train and using the Yawkey stop are inaccurate and low. We hope you will look at the data we enclose, Survey Results of Commuters Employed by The MathWorks, which we collected from other commuter rail users who work for the same company that we both work for. Our data shows higher utilization of the Yawkey stop, and calls into question the accuracy of the MBTA study results you sited to support your decision to eliminate the Yawkey stop from the P528 schedule.

In your letter from March 21, 2008, you site the following reasons for removing the Yawkey station from the P528 train schedule: low utilization of the stop by P528 train passengers, insufficient time for both P528 and P531 trains to make the stop, and improved on time performance of the P528 train. The data from our survey suggests that the utilization of the Yawkey station by the P528 passengers was higher then 3 or 4 people a day prior to the February 18, 2008 schedule change. Also the data from the days when the P528 train stops at Yawkey shows that making the stop regularly will not delay the train.

If you still have concerns on any of these points, or if there are other issues preventing the regular stop that we are not aware of, please explain. If our points and data are not sufficient to return the stop, please consider running a pilot P528 schedule change to include the Yawkey stop for a period of 2 or 3 months. Then you will have the P528 on time performance data available that will include the overall schedule changes that came in effect on February 18, 2008, and the stop at Yawkey. We are confident that the analysis of the data will show that making the stop is not detrimental to the P528 on time performance.

We thank you for your time, and hope you will consider our suggestion. Please feel free to contact us directly.

Sincerely,

[Names and addresses edited out here]

Enclosure

And here is the enclosure:

Survey Results of Commuters Employed by The MathWorks

We work for a private software company, the MathWorks, located in Natick. In July, we conducted a short survey of the MathWorks employees who regularly commute to work, in order to determine how many of them regularly use or used the Yawkey stop while riding the P528 train. The results are as follows:

Before the schedule change of February 18, 2008
6.7 --> Average number of people riding the P528 train
5.5 --> Average number of people getting off at Yawkey
After the schedule change
5.1 --> Average number of people riding the P528 train
If P528 train stopped at Yawkey every day
6.1 --> Average number of people who would get off at Yawkey

The results of our survey indicate that prior to the February 18, 2008 schedule change 5 or 6 MathWorks employees got off the P528 train at the Yawkey station daily. The results show higher usage of the station as compared to the results of the MBTA survey. Moreover, our results do not take into account any riders who do not work at the MathWorks, any new riders who have started working at the MathWorks in August or later, and the rapidly increasing population of the Fenway area.

A Canning Attempt

Inspired by my aunt Marina's marinated cucumbers and tomatoes I decided to make some of my own. I asked my aunt for a recipe, but I had to diverge from it a bit. A few ingredients were hard to obtain even in a prosperous country of excess such as the United States unless you grow your own--e.g. currant leaves. Otherwise, the process was easy and fun--here is what I did

• Lay out dill at the bottom of the jars
• Put washed cucumbers and tomatoes into the jars
• Add garlic
• In a pot boil water with salt, sugar, bay leaves and pepper corns (for 1L of water, 1 tsp sugar, 1.5 tbs salt (course grained), 3-4 bay leaves, 10 pepper corns
• Pour the above brine into the jars and let them stand for 2-3 minutes
• Return the brine into the pot, and bring to boil
• Pour into the jars, and put on the lids (previously boiled for 5 minutes in water)
• Invert the jars, cover them with towels, and let them stand for 24 hours

Now the jars can be stored. According to my aunt, the tomatoes and cucumbers will be ready in about a month. She says that cucumbers can be opened earlier--they will taste less salty, "малосольные."

I made 4 small jars--2 with tomatoes and 2 with cucumbers. Once I open any, I will let you know how they turned out.

Successful But Less Than Classic Tarte Tatin

The Chocolate & Zucchini recipe for Tarte Tatin was indeed simpler. I followed every step in the recipe precisely—a rare occasion, and the result was tart and sweet but not too pretty. A fine combination. Of course I am no expert, but my tart seemed far from what I think a "classic" Tarte Tatin ought to be. No serious caramel formed around the apples, and the crust was very sweet. I may try to merge the best of these two recipes, if I don't lose interest in this dessert first.

Interestingly enough, I am not the only one with Tarte Tatin on my mind and in my kitchen.
Clearly the above photo is not of one of my creations, butI have been completely seduced by Smitten Kitchen's recipes and photos. Notice how one of the photos in the linked recipe shows using a mellon baller to core the apples--I must try that as soon as possible!

My "Classic Tarte Tatin" Adventure

Bags of apples in the grocery store have been speaking to me. “Bake me, bake me!” they say. So last Sunday I embarked on another cooking adventure—baking the Classic Tarte Tatin.

After skinning and coring apples for over an hour I no longer wondered who ever buys those special tools to core apples. I watched the butter and sugar melt together in a frying mesmerized by the deep mahogany of the caramel seeping through the buttery paste. The whiff of burnt sugar brought me out of my happy stupor. I laid out the apple halves and admired the perfect pattern they formed in the pan as they cooked. My rolled out pastry did not look as pretty, but it did not have to be. The tart would be flipped when done, and the pastry would remain at the bottom to be eaten but not be seen.

With everything ready for baking I pushed the frying pan into the oven, but… the oven door would not shut. Prior to cooking I spent a long time making sure that my frying pan could withstand the heat of the oven, but it never occurred to me to check if it will fit. The pan with its nice long handle was too big for my smaller-then-standard-size oven.

Panic! I could see the pastry slowly melting on top of the warm caramelized apples. I could see the apples starting to spread apart destroying the pattern. I called Nick, because in a crisis I always call my husband. Nick did not help with his “move the tart into a smaller baking dish” solution. “That would destroy the amazing apple pattern,” I protested. Nick was not too sympathetic.

I hung up and tried to think of any neighbors I knew on whom I could impose with my tart. I called a friend who lives across the street in hopes that he was home, had a regular sized oven and was willing to let me use it. Luckily for him, he did not pick up. Since I clearly had no other choice, I followed Nick’s advice after all. I scooped the tart into a normal baking dish, and off it went into the oven to bake.

Half an hour later I had my “classic tarte tatin”—a shapeless mass with blotches of torn pastry on top. Caramelized apple puree betrayed the taste of burned sugar. For me a large scoop of vanilla ice cream obscured the bitterness quite well. Nick, on the other hand, was not convinced that apple mush mixed in with the soft pie crust constituted a worthy dessert. So he went back to his beloved sherbet instead.

Since the failure, I have found a simpler tarte tatin recipe, where the frying pan does not need to go into the oven. Perhaps it is not "Classic", but I think I will try this one next time, hopefully with a little more luck.

A Busy Saturday

On Saturday morning I joined several coworkers to run the Somerville Homeless Coalition 5K Road Race. (A 5K race is 5 kilometers/3.1 miles long). I was up at 6, and in Davis Square doing warm up runs by 8:30. The fall morning was sunny and crisp, just perfect for the race, when we took the starting line at 9 o’clock. I am proud to say that I completed the race in 23 minutes and 55 seconds—surprised myself by finishing well under my personal goal.

More pleasant surprises awaited me at home. A shift in the planets as well as the beautiful fall weather made Nick take a break from work, and we went for a walk around the city. We browsed through some shiny old cars on exhibit at the City Hall Plaza, strolled through the North End, and headed for Charlestown. What better way to complement my early morning sub-8-minute-mile run then to climb 294 steps to the top of the Bunker Hill Monument.

Bunker Hill Monument was completed in 1843 to commemorate the Battle of Bunker Hill, the first major battle of the American Revolutionary War. The battle took place on June 17, 1775, and most of the fighting actually occurred on Breed’s Hill.

The platform at the top of the stairs was crowded. People squeezed by one another trying to take photos and look outside. Small windows cut through the monument’s thick walls let in little light, but provided bird’s eye views of Boston, Charlestown and the ocean.

Back at the bottom of the Bunker Hill Monument, standing at the top of Breed’s Hill we were exhausted. We tracked back to North End and shared an enormous slice of incredibly good pizza at Ernesto’s.

Another Project: A Suitable Boy

Because you can never work on too many projects, I started another one yesterday. I am currently reading Vikram Seth's "A Suitable Boy." Set in the early 1950s in India, the novel follows several families and focuses on Lata, her mother Mrs. Rupa Mehra, and the quest to find a husband for Lata--the suitable boy.


Reading page 323 out of mere 1474 pages, I have decided to go back to the beginning. No, I am not mad despite what you might think. The novel is full of words refering to Indian culture. While I can often guess the general meaning of the word--a food item, maybe a sweet food item, or a piece of clothing--I still do not know exactly what the word is refering to.


So I am going back to the beginning of the novel to look up every unfamiliar word. Moreover, in the process I will humbly attempt to make my "research" useful to other readers by publishing the information I discover into a blog.


Yes, I started yet another blog: http://readingasuitableboy.blogspot.com/. I hope it will be a source of curious bits of information for all, but for readers of the novel especially.

A New Beginning and A New Obsession

Ever since our Utah trip, I have been fascinated by all the faces you can find staring down at you from the rocks. Now I have decided that I will try to paint them. With no marathon to train for this coming winter, I am setting a different kind of goal for myself--to start and finish an art project that I will presumptiously call "People In The Rocks." I will be working from photographs I took of the faces I have seen during our trip.

The above photo has probably the most expressive face, and thus this is the first photo I have been working from.

The second one has a better composition, but the first one is more tragic, which inevitably means, there will be more variations.

Aside from this project, I have also decided to try a new (for me) art form, and in the process have become mildly obsessed with it. I am trying to learn to make prints using lino block printing technique. The concept is very easy--you cut out your design from a linolium block, roll some paint on it, and print it on paper. However, I am in day 6 of printing, and still having issues.

Here are prints from my first block. The design is based on the same photo above.

Confession

Confession: I have stopped brushing my hair after showering. My decision, far from arbitrary, is based on the following:

1. Every grandmother will tell you that brushing wet hair yanks out more hair, and I am obsessed with my head hair count. Currently it is at 129,343. I count daily, before going to bed.
2. Brushing my hair after showering at the gym either takes away precious 2 minutes out of my work day, or decreases the length of my shower by 2 minutes.
3. I look the same regardless of whether or not I have brushed my hair after a shower. In fact my mother often notes that I look as if I just got out of bed when it is evening, and I haven’t even napped for at least 12 hours.

You may worry that my head will soon provide a home for small furry or feathered animals. Don’t. My hair is not that long yet. I do still brush my hair every weekday morning on my way to the gym, in order to speed up tying my hair into a pony tail.

Another Year and Moyshe Haim

Mom and I learned a new family story today from her cousins in Israel. People in the family of my grandfather's oldest brother would say something like "Here comes Moyshe Haim" when someone came home in a bad mood. Moyshe Haim was my great grandmother's father, or my grandfather's grandfather. Sounds like he had quite a temper, but unfortunately I do not know anything more about him.

Four years ago my grandpa, Nick and I sneaked into my parents' house while they were in Europe celebrating their anniversary. Grandpa really wanted to help as Nick and I worked to decorate the house, but I wanted him just to relax. So he sat on the sofa and told me stories about his life. I knew that I should have been writing down his stories. Back then it seemed like we still had plenty of time together ahead of us, when in fact there was only a year left.

We received an email from our relatives in Israel today. My grandfather’s sister-in-law, tetya Nadya, passed away. The news made me cry. I closed the door to my office, swiveled away from my computer, and tried to take control over my emotions.

I hardly knew tetya Nadya. I met her only once, when I was in Israel several years ago. Perhaps there were other times, but I must have been too young to remember.

In a week, it will be 3 years since my grandfather died. Whenever Grandpa talked about tetya Nadya, his words always conveyed love and deepest respect. He used to call our family in Israel regularly, and was always excited when they called him.

Tetya Nadya was the last link, the last person I knew who knew my grandfather back when they were young. Mom sometimes called her our matriarch. She was the last of that generation on my mother’s side of the family.

Recipes: To Follow Or Not To Follow

I love trying out new recipes. Unfortunately, sometimes recipes call for ingredients not readily available in our little supermarket. To solve this problem I either substitute for or omit the problematic food, depending on the recipe. To Nick’s dismay, I often substitute ingredients even when I don’t have to. When something I made tastes funny to Nick, his first suspicion is always that I did not follow the recipe, and a lot of times he is correct.

I cannot blame him for being suspicious. Early on in our relationship, I baked him a birthday cake. It was a chocolate cake, and at some point I decided that it would taste a hundred times better if I added some cherries to the dough. While happily eating the cake, Nick did not mention the cherries. So I asked him if he noticed anything unusual about the cake. After some coercion, he admitted that he thought the cake had uncooked lumps of dough in it. These were the cherries. Nick also thought that the cake was not sweet. I had to admit that because cherries were sweet, I also decreased the amount of sugar I used for the cake.

After the cake and cherries incident, I still substitute ingredients all the time. As long as I avoid any drastic deviations, the results are usually quite palatable. A few months ago I found an interesting recipe for stuffed poblano peppers. I have never had poblano peppers before, so the prospect of cooking this exotic vegetable was exciting. Sadly the poblanos were just as much of a novelty item for me, as they were for our grocery store. So I made a substitution, and that evening Nick and I enjoyed a tasty meal of stuffed green peppers instead.

I did not give up, and a few days ago I decided to try another stuffed poblano peppers recipe. To my delight, this time the grocery store carried poblanos. Surprisingly the dinner turned out to be a complete disaster even though I did not make any substitutions. The recipe took a long time to prepare. When 2 hours later, the stuffed poblanos finally made it into the oven, I realized that the peppers were too spicy for Nick and me to enjoy them. More over, my hand felt as if it was on fire, because I seeded the poblano peppers with my bare hands greatly underestimating their potency.

The following day I vowed never to cook exotic food again. We comforted ourselves by eating pasta and meat sauce for a few days afterwards. Now I am back to searching for new recipes, and I have to admit that my decision to avoid the exotic will probably not last. Tonight we had broiled salmon with spinach risotto. Let’s see what next week brings.

Fisherman's Feast and Flying Angels

Two weeks ago Nick and I ventured out to the North End to attend the Fisherman’s Feast—one of several Italian festivals going on in Boston in the summer. The roots of this festival come from Sicily and its fishermen’s devotion to the Madonna del Soccorso. The descendents of the Sicilian fishermen have kept this festival alive in Boston for 98 years.

Crowds of people watched as the statue of the Madonna, surrounded by multiple marching bands, made her way around the narrow streets of the North End. The procession made regular stops, and ribbons with dollar bills attached to them flowed down to the Madonna from the near by businesses and houses.

Many people followed the Madonna around the neighborhood, but by eight o’clock a small crowd started assembling at an otherwise unremarkable street corner. We promptly joined this crowd of people, patiently waiting for the three flying angels to appear—the highlight of the festival, and from what we heard the sight “not to be missed.” When the statue of the Madonna drowning in ribbons of money finally arrived at this street corner, angels appeared over the crowd.

The first two “flying angels” we saw were fairly stationary. Two young girls dressed as angels appeared on balconies across the street from each other and spoke in Italian. I think they pronounced a prayer to the Madonna for the fishermen’s safe return from the sea. Then the third angel appeared, and this one was indeed flying. The third young girl dressed as an angel was yanked out of a third story window on a pulley. With ropes also tied to her legs to help her maintain her body position in the air, she was lowered towards the Madonna and continued the prayer.

Behind me two teenagers whispered excitedly debating if the girl was going to fly back up. Their mother bet them $5 each that that there would be “no more flying tonight.” Sure enough, a few minutes later the third angel was yanked up over the crowd and slowly pulled back into the same third story window while the teenagers behind me cheered.

When the angels disappeared, the people we thought were watching the festival from the rooftops above started throwing large amounts of shredded white paper onto the crowd. The paper quickly covered the street, hanging in clumps on the electric wiring, and obscuring small children. The festival was over, and shuffling white paper under our feet we headed home.

Gladioli

Gladioli bloom at the end of the summer. They start appearing in stores and flower markets in mid August. Gladioli back in the Soviet Union did not behave differently.

For as long as I can remember Grandma always got a bouquet of bright gladioli on her birthday. I assume my grandpa gave them to her, because the flowers were always already in the vase when I got to their house.

If anyone asked me what Grandma's favorite flower was, I would say "gladiolus" in a heartbeat. Yet, when I think about it, I do not remember Grandma ever saying that she preferred gladioli over other flowers. Did she? Or did I make that assumption because she always got gladioli on her birthday? Or did she get gladioli on her birthday because she really did like them a lot? Hopefully, members of my family reading this blog will kindly share their memories on the subject.

Watching Olympics All Night Long

Do you wonder why this blog has been quiet? Too much TV watching, and I blame the Olympics. Every night, there is at least one or two sports that I just have to watch. Here are the results of my Olympic TV watching marathon.

First the bad:

• I have been exercising patience in order to ignore NBC’s incredible bias in their commentary of almost every event in the Olympics. However, I am losing my patience and will start foaming at the mouth any minute now.


• And why do NBC reporters want to tell the TV audience the results of what NBC is about to show? For example, I was watching the women’s team gymnastics. “And this is where it all went wrong for the Chinese team,” said the commentator, while the Chinese gymnast took a deep breath preparing to do a vault. Sure enough, she landed on her butt. Later I caught a glimpse of the qualifying rounds for 110 meter men’s hurdles. “You are about to see a false start,” pronounced the commentator about 3 seconds before the gun fired. Why do we, the TV audience, have to be told what we are about to see?

And the good:

• While everyone seems to be in love with Michael Phelps, I am in love with his dog.


• Synchronized diving mesmerized me, while other people I know found it absolutely hypnotic. (Maybe I did too.)


• Women’s marathon: 1) what happened to Deena Kastor, and 2) what happened to the fastest pregnant woman on earth, also known as Paula Radcliffe?


• Did you know that women’s beach volleyball uniform requirements are specified down to centimeters, and restrict the maximum coverage the uniforms can provide! In other words, these women cannot wear more clothing if they wanted to, not even tight shorts!!!


• Figure skating should be a part of all Olympics games, because gymnastics, the seemingly equivalent summer sport, is just not the same.

Chocolate Truffles by the Spoonful

Like many women, I love chocolate, and chocolate truffles hold a special place in my heart. The bitter taste of cocoa powder on my tongue turns sweet as I bite through the rich chocolate center. Only special occasions deserve such special desserts.

When I was little, living in the Soviet Union, I remember both my mother and my grandmother hiding chocolates. They did not hide them from me. Rather they saved these difficult-to-obtain chocolate covered wafers to serve them to guests.

While there is no shortage of chocolates in the United States, I still save the particularly fancy desserts for a special occasion. Several years ago, when someone gave me a box of chocolate truffles, I put it away. I wanted to treasure it until a particular gathering warranted such a fancy dessert. Unfortunately, no occasion seemed important enough, and nearly a year later the treasured truffles still lingered in the back of my pantry.

It is indecent to serve a year old dessert to anyone, let alone special guests. So one night when other chocolate supplies have dwindled in our house, I opened the box on my own. Instead of pretty balls of chocolate ganache covered with cocoa powder, thick brown liquid spilled out of the box. I almost threw this chocolate mess away, but I could not bare to part with it. Instead, I indulged in liquid chocolate truffles for the next several months—one spoonful a night.

Eating chocolate truffles with a spoon is not something people imagine often, and even Nick found it a bit odd. So next time someone presented me with a box of truffles I was determined to use it while the truffles were still in a solid state.

Alas, it was not meant to be. A few days ago, I opened the box only seven months after receiving the gift, and it revealed the familiar sweetly bitter thick chocolate liquid. So I am back to eating my liquid chocolate truffles every night, this time out of a glass jar—still one spoonful at a time.

Fascinating Train Scheduling Logic

Last Tuesday morning the Framingham/Worcester line was a tremendous mess due to a communication failure. Trains in both directions were significantly delayed, and some were cancelled. I watched an inbound train with no lights or air conditioning arrive at Back Bay, carrying two trains worth of passengers. People, wide-eyed, open-mouthed gasping for air, and flushed with heat and anger, jumped off that train like lemmings off the cliff in their staged suicide.

When I finally boarded a Framingham train, the initial excitement at the prospect of finally getting to work quickly turned to frustation. The train was moving very slowly, making all the Newton stops. According to the schedule none of the outbound trains stop at any Newton stops before 11am. Yet, here was our train traveling well before 9am, and making all stops. Why?

I went to talk to the conductor, and his explanation was, “just in case.” Just in case what? In case any people were waiting for a train or any passengers wanted to get off the train… at an unscheduled stop? In case anyone was at the platform 2+ hours early?

Would any sane person wait for or get on a train “just in case?” The conductor did later concede that his superiors ordered the train to make all stops. However, I am not sure if this extra information made me feel better.

At the MIT Museum

Nick and I visited the MIT Museum on Saturday. For me the highlights were the strobe/flash photography work of Harold Edgerton and the whimsical sculptures of Arthur Ganson.

Most of Arthur Ganson's sculptures involved a motor moving a series of objects. There was a definite "thinking chair" theme throughout the exhibit.

At Mount Washington

Another trip to the Mount Washington Resort in New Hampshire.

This year's activity of choice was a group hike up Mount Webster.

Through the Battlefields of Gettysburg

The battlefields of Gettysburg are beautiful. Some say that even during the severest droughts they stay lush and green. The fields used to be all farmland—wheatfields, peach orchards. Many barns and farm houses remain, maintained by the park service. Some are even lived in. The land is no longer farmed, and wild grass grows high across the fields interrupted only by wooden snake rail fences. Everywhere memorials and monuments rise above the grass to honor regiments and generals who fought on these grounds.

Following maps we tried to imagine different stages of the battle from different viewpoints. We tried to see the ground the same way General John Buford saw it when he first arrived at the Seminary Ridge. We walked to the Little Round Top and looked down its south slope, where Colonel Joshua Chamberlain’s men fought off multiple infantry charges coming over the rocks. We walked along the tree line where General Longstreet’s men would have been forming lines before their march towards the high ground on the last day of the battle. Without coming and seeing the land, it is impossible to imagine the tragically large scale of the battle.

Gettysburg Battle Reenactment - Day 2

Comments to follow.

Gettysburg Battlefields On Horseback

A few photos to start out with. More details to follow.

Steamtown in Scranton, PA

We started the day in Scranton, PA, visiting one of its few tourist attractions—the Steamtown National Historic Site. The steam engine museum and exhibits are set up in restored buildings that formerly housed maintenance facilities at a rail road roundhouse, built in mid 19th century.


The steam engine would enter into the roundhouse, which would then be turned in order to align the rails properly such that the engine can be pushed into a specific spot in the facility.



The entrance onto the roundhouse.

The snowplow engine.