Showing posts with label Taylor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Taylor. Show all posts
Friday, April 29, 2011
A Whole Hand?
Today is my anniversary. Five years ago today, I declared before an entire church filled with friends and family, that I would love Taylor forever, come rain or come shine.
Five years.
2006
Five years.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Home is Where You Are
With Taylor in his second year of law school and our eyes firmly fixed on a long road trip to Washington without looking back come May 2012, I've been giving some thought to the idea of packing (ick), moving (ick), and leaving our Boston home...
I didn't realize it until a few months ago, when we really started planning to leave Boston, that we have grown up a lot together in our small apartment here. We had been married just over a year when we moved in and started our life so far away from family. Our previous apartment was a small stone's throw from our college days and our alma mater and our previous dwellings. Not much had changed except that we were now blissfully married.
And then we came to Boston. It was hot when we moved in, and humid. So humid--sweat dripped down our backs as we lugged box after heavy box (mostly books) up the three flights of stairs to our "penthouse."
There was a BC football game that day. We had parked too close to campus and our car was towed. Welcome to the city, West-Coasters! Our first night in our home we had a house guest. We didn't have any of our furniture yet, and so he slept in the living room on the camping mats we had used in our cross-country drive. The door-to-door storage crates weren't due to arrive until the next morning.
And, as we've changed, we've made changes to our home over these past four years. Has it been four years already? Almost... almost.
I didn't realize it until a few months ago, when we really started planning to leave Boston, that we have grown up a lot together in our small apartment here. We had been married just over a year when we moved in and started our life so far away from family. Our previous apartment was a small stone's throw from our college days and our alma mater and our previous dwellings. Not much had changed except that we were now blissfully married.
And then we came to Boston. It was hot when we moved in, and humid. So humid--sweat dripped down our backs as we lugged box after heavy box (mostly books) up the three flights of stairs to our "penthouse."
There was a BC football game that day. We had parked too close to campus and our car was towed. Welcome to the city, West-Coasters! Our first night in our home we had a house guest. We didn't have any of our furniture yet, and so he slept in the living room on the camping mats we had used in our cross-country drive. The door-to-door storage crates weren't due to arrive until the next morning.
And, as we've changed, we've made changes to our home over these past four years. Has it been four years already? Almost... almost.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Warning
Posing for self-portraits in a pretty handmade Christmas dress leave husbands irresponsible for their actions:
tags:
Christmas,
craftiness,
photography,
Taylor
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
On Being a [Law] Student's Wife
It takes a certain kind of woman to be a student's wife. I'm not tooting my own horn, here--it takes a certain kind of woman to be married to any one kind of man. I know I couldn't be a Navy wife, and I don't think I'd be very good as a rock star's wife. I might be able to manage as, say, a dentist's wife, or an engineer's wife, but the life of a student's wife suits me best. At least for now.
There's a unique rhythm to life when your husband's a student, a give and take and lull and roar of the semester. Each season has its characteristics and each different phase of the semester carries with it its own peculiar "mood" in the home.
Right now, for instance, we are in the death throes of finals. Taylor has finished two finals so far, one Tax (exciting, right? (apparently, though, it was a pretty good class)) and one on the History of Western Legal Thought (yeah, that was a pretty cool class, too), and he's spent days figuratively chained to the kitchen table on his (nifty, new) lap top, outlining writing outlining writing outlining. He comes up for air occasionally and watches a movie with me, eats, or he'll make coffee or open a beer (which beverage is solely dependent on the time of day). Sometimes he spends the day at a cafe, just to change up the scene. But he's a hard worker, for sure. Tomorrow he has his First Amendment final and Cyber Law on Wednesday. So he's still outlining and writing and reading and studying.
Now, you may be asking yourself (and rightly so) how this picture differs from the rest of the semester. Well... it doesn't. Not really. Except that there's less class-ing involved during finals, and there's a bit more, shall we say, tension in the air as the cold wraith-like breath of finals threatens to frighten the life away from the law student's soul. You can imagine this is not a nice feeling right before Christmas. And no matter how often people tell me "well, isn't it nice to be done before the holidays?" I know that you're never done in school.. not if there's another semester looming ahead of you.
That's just part of the rhythm, and a lot like "real" life outside of school. There's always something else to be done, even when on break. As a student's wife, Advent will always be tense with finals and the rush of finishing piddly things before the semester ends. Christmas break is never wholly break, with articles or notes to finish by January.
I know there are lots of wives (or, let's be fair, husbands too) who couldn't be married to a student. It's a life that has its own unique set of challenges (and perks). But that's why we got married. We wanted to share the challenges we knew we'd face, and we wanted to be together through the difficulties we couldn't predict. It's simply better together.
And I love that he's home so much in the afternoons. He'll be reading or writing, often with his headphones on, but I just like to have him in the house. If he was working a 9 to 5, I couldn't rub his shoulders whenever I wanted, and I couldn't strategically interrupt him for a few kisses now and then. I like that we can go to a cafe together to "get work done," me with my knitting or embroidery and him with his books and computer. I love that he gets time off from classes during Christmas and during the summer, when we can plan trips and adventures. I love that he loves what he's doing.
Being a law student's wife isn't any harder than being any other kind of wife, really. It's different than being a builder's wife or a poet's wife, but no harder, I think. I love it. Because I love being married to Taylor.
And right now, he's a law student. He won't be a student forever (right, Love?). Who knows what he'll be when he graduates :) Another exciting adventure awaits us..
There's a unique rhythm to life when your husband's a student, a give and take and lull and roar of the semester. Each season has its characteristics and each different phase of the semester carries with it its own peculiar "mood" in the home.
Right now, for instance, we are in the death throes of finals. Taylor has finished two finals so far, one Tax (exciting, right? (apparently, though, it was a pretty good class)) and one on the History of Western Legal Thought (yeah, that was a pretty cool class, too), and he's spent days figuratively chained to the kitchen table on his (nifty, new) lap top, outlining writing outlining writing outlining. He comes up for air occasionally and watches a movie with me, eats, or he'll make coffee or open a beer (which beverage is solely dependent on the time of day). Sometimes he spends the day at a cafe, just to change up the scene. But he's a hard worker, for sure. Tomorrow he has his First Amendment final and Cyber Law on Wednesday. So he's still outlining and writing and reading and studying.
Now, you may be asking yourself (and rightly so) how this picture differs from the rest of the semester. Well... it doesn't. Not really. Except that there's less class-ing involved during finals, and there's a bit more, shall we say, tension in the air as the cold wraith-like breath of finals threatens to frighten the life away from the law student's soul. You can imagine this is not a nice feeling right before Christmas. And no matter how often people tell me "well, isn't it nice to be done before the holidays?" I know that you're never done in school.. not if there's another semester looming ahead of you.
That's just part of the rhythm, and a lot like "real" life outside of school. There's always something else to be done, even when on break. As a student's wife, Advent will always be tense with finals and the rush of finishing piddly things before the semester ends. Christmas break is never wholly break, with articles or notes to finish by January.
I know there are lots of wives (or, let's be fair, husbands too) who couldn't be married to a student. It's a life that has its own unique set of challenges (and perks). But that's why we got married. We wanted to share the challenges we knew we'd face, and we wanted to be together through the difficulties we couldn't predict. It's simply better together.
And I love that he's home so much in the afternoons. He'll be reading or writing, often with his headphones on, but I just like to have him in the house. If he was working a 9 to 5, I couldn't rub his shoulders whenever I wanted, and I couldn't strategically interrupt him for a few kisses now and then. I like that we can go to a cafe together to "get work done," me with my knitting or embroidery and him with his books and computer. I love that he gets time off from classes during Christmas and during the summer, when we can plan trips and adventures. I love that he loves what he's doing.
Being a law student's wife isn't any harder than being any other kind of wife, really. It's different than being a builder's wife or a poet's wife, but no harder, I think. I love it. Because I love being married to Taylor.
And right now, he's a law student. He won't be a student forever (right, Love?). Who knows what he'll be when he graduates :) Another exciting adventure awaits us..
tags:
Advent,
law school,
Taylor
Thursday, December 9, 2010
If I Could..
If I could re-arrange the entire academic world's idea of when it's a good idea to have finals, it would be something like this:
Most of January would be vacation. Since T is in law school, I will state that I think January's a great month to meet with firms and other lawyerly folk to hopefully get that ever-illusive job. New Year's resolutions, re-focusing on work, all that stuff.
School "starts" sometime in February, just in time for Lent. Really, what could be better for enhancing the discipline of Lent than rigorously putting one's nose to the grindstone of academic work? Yeah, that would be penance enough for me, too. Spring break could still be sometime around Easter. I'm all for getting the week after Easter off--who wants to vacation during a fast?
School "starts" sometime in February, just in time for Lent. Really, what could be better for enhancing the discipline of Lent than rigorously putting one's nose to the grindstone of academic work? Yeah, that would be penance enough for me, too. Spring break could still be sometime around Easter. I'm all for getting the week after Easter off--who wants to vacation during a fast?
By the end of May the semester is winding up and finals happen sometime end of May/beginning of June. The rest of June and all of July are also vacation. The next semester (that is, the second semester of the school year--is this confusing you yet?) starts in August.
tags:
fix-its,
law school,
Taylor
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Favor
Just a quiet Sunday today. We woke earlier than usual and had a simple breakfast (of curried rice.. go figure), tidying the house a bit before heading into Mass.
I grabbed this picture of Taylor because Bonobo's is having a contest. Taylor loves these pants, and winning a shopping spree wouldn't be a bad deal :)
So, if you have a moment, go vote for Taylor. Because, really--doesn't he look great in these?
I think so.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
For Unto Us a Child is Born!
Every year, Taylor's family attends a Seattle performance of Messiah in Benaroya Hall and we have been lucky enough to have an organization like the Handel and Haydn society to facilitate our continuing the tradition. Before I met T's family I'd only ever head parts of the performance in movies or on the radio occasionally.
It's an amazing piece of music. I confess that I don't like everything about it--the florid arias throughout can sometimes seem a bit much to my taste... but there are certain parts, phrases of a few notes or whole pieces that thrill me every time. The soprano this year was one of the best we've heard, and the clear, smooth note of her voice rang out high and bright like crystal "Come unto Him all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and He will give you rest."
tags:
Boston,
Christmas,
music,
photography,
Taylor,
traditions
Saturday, October 30, 2010
On Parents
When I was in middle school, it was super-cool to call your friends' mothers "mom." I did this with a few of my closest friends, but it never really caught on for me. Momma was mom to me, and calling another woman that didn't sit well.
And then I got married. Momma instantly welcomed Taylor to the family with a warm hug and a big kiss and said to him: "And my name is? *pause* Mom," answering her own question. She wanted to be a mother to him in all the wonderful ways a mother-in-law can. He was truly a son to her. In a different way, of course, than my brother was her son (he was always just "Son"), but not in a lesser way. Not at all.
I didn't ask my parents-in-law what they wanted to be called after Taylor and I got married. Most people I knew called their in-laws by their first name, but I felt compelled to call Taylor's parents mom and dad. I don't know why.
T and I were visiting his folks' house soon after we were married and his dad asked me a question. I said, "Sure, Dad." Since I hadn't asked them if it was ok to call them mom and dad, I wasn't sure how he'd respond. But he looked at me, tilting his head a little to the side, the way he always does when he pauses to consider something, and smiled at me and said, "I guess I am Dad to you now, huh?" Soon after, I asked Mum if she minded at all that I called them mom and dad and she told me: "Oh not at all! I'm glad you feel close enough to us that you feel comfortable calling us that." Me, too, Mum :)
And now, four years later, it's even better. They are Mum and Dad, through and through. They have been so good to me--I truly feel like their daughter and it is simply the natural thing to call them by who they are to me.
And Mum especially. Mothers and daughters have a special relationship, and I am thankful for the blessing of my mother-in-law. Since I first came into the family, she has offered her love and support, but especially so after Momma died. In her own quiet, gentle way, she was there for me in so many ways. She didn't try to step up to replace my mother at all, but she filled her roll as husband's-mother as perfectly as any woman could. In all the little things she does for me--birthday and anniversary presents, calling me to catch up (y'know, because husbands get distracted and don't always share everything), emails, inviting me to take walks with her, cooking with me, sharing so many stories of motherhood and wifedom, even flying in with six kids to attend Momma's funeral--she has been a constant help and companion.
I love you, Mum :)
And then I got married. Momma instantly welcomed Taylor to the family with a warm hug and a big kiss and said to him: "And my name is? *pause* Mom," answering her own question. She wanted to be a mother to him in all the wonderful ways a mother-in-law can. He was truly a son to her. In a different way, of course, than my brother was her son (he was always just "Son"), but not in a lesser way. Not at all.
I didn't ask my parents-in-law what they wanted to be called after Taylor and I got married. Most people I knew called their in-laws by their first name, but I felt compelled to call Taylor's parents mom and dad. I don't know why.
T and I were visiting his folks' house soon after we were married and his dad asked me a question. I said, "Sure, Dad." Since I hadn't asked them if it was ok to call them mom and dad, I wasn't sure how he'd respond. But he looked at me, tilting his head a little to the side, the way he always does when he pauses to consider something, and smiled at me and said, "I guess I am Dad to you now, huh?" Soon after, I asked Mum if she minded at all that I called them mom and dad and she told me: "Oh not at all! I'm glad you feel close enough to us that you feel comfortable calling us that." Me, too, Mum :)
And now, four years later, it's even better. They are Mum and Dad, through and through. They have been so good to me--I truly feel like their daughter and it is simply the natural thing to call them by who they are to me.
And Mum especially. Mothers and daughters have a special relationship, and I am thankful for the blessing of my mother-in-law. Since I first came into the family, she has offered her love and support, but especially so after Momma died. In her own quiet, gentle way, she was there for me in so many ways. She didn't try to step up to replace my mother at all, but she filled her roll as husband's-mother as perfectly as any woman could. In all the little things she does for me--birthday and anniversary presents, calling me to catch up (y'know, because husbands get distracted and don't always share everything), emails, inviting me to take walks with her, cooking with me, sharing so many stories of motherhood and wifedom, even flying in with six kids to attend Momma's funeral--she has been a constant help and companion.
I love you, Mum :)
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Content
I bared my soul on our struggle with infertility.
And then one night, as I lay in the comfort of my husband's arms, waiting for sleep to overwhelm my senses, I listened to the quiet in our house. I heard Taylor breathing peacefully, so close to my ear, quickly asleep after a long day of hard work. I thought about our week and all that we accomplished. I thought about our plans for adoption and the many children already in our lives. I thought about the way we live our life now, and about our plans for shaping the future of our marriage and our family.
As I dozed off, I came to realize that I am most content. As much as I long for certain things in my life and in our marriage, I am happy. Incredibly happy. And I am certain, deep down, that I'd never change a thing outside of God's plan for our lives.
It's true that we still have to prayerfully discern what God desires of us--what we must strive for and what we must pass by. But for now, I am at peace waiting for the blessings God has in store for us.
Because after all, I have already been blessed infinitely with the Love of my sweet husband. Any parent (and grandparent) will tell you that children leave the family eventually. My parents did it. I have done it. My children will do it. I don't mean to say that children are "lost" to their parents when they begin their own life, but every child grows up.
Momma always told me your spouse if the only member of your family you ever get to choose ("so choose carefully," I hear her say in the back of my mind). God placed him before me and I have chosen. He is mine forever, to help me to heaven and to see God in all things.
And then one night, as I lay in the comfort of my husband's arms, waiting for sleep to overwhelm my senses, I listened to the quiet in our house. I heard Taylor breathing peacefully, so close to my ear, quickly asleep after a long day of hard work. I thought about our week and all that we accomplished. I thought about our plans for adoption and the many children already in our lives. I thought about the way we live our life now, and about our plans for shaping the future of our marriage and our family.
As I dozed off, I came to realize that I am most content. As much as I long for certain things in my life and in our marriage, I am happy. Incredibly happy. And I am certain, deep down, that I'd never change a thing outside of God's plan for our lives.
It's true that we still have to prayerfully discern what God desires of us--what we must strive for and what we must pass by. But for now, I am at peace waiting for the blessings God has in store for us.
Because after all, I have already been blessed infinitely with the Love of my sweet husband. Any parent (and grandparent) will tell you that children leave the family eventually. My parents did it. I have done it. My children will do it. I don't mean to say that children are "lost" to their parents when they begin their own life, but every child grows up.
Momma always told me your spouse if the only member of your family you ever get to choose ("so choose carefully," I hear her say in the back of my mind). God placed him before me and I have chosen. He is mine forever, to help me to heaven and to see God in all things.
And truthfully, what more can I ask for?
Friday, August 13, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Retro-spect
I first met my husband spring semester my freshman year of college (2003) when he was a senior in high school (though actually, at that point, he'd "finished" his senior year and was in the midst of a 9-month summer vacation (no, his parents didn't make that mistake again)). He and some of his friends (and a miscellaneous collection of their fathers) came over to the east side of WA to visit GU--just to see what it was like. I introduced myself to him at a party, and we exchanged contact information. We weren't interested in each other as more than friends--we both had other crushes, in fact.
We emailed back and forth a lot that summer. I was living with my sister-in-law, who was expecting her third kid and had a lot of baby stories :) The most memorable emails, though, were those we sent while I was on a retreat at a convent :) Oh, the dreams we shared that weekend. It was uplifting to meet a guy so excited about religious life.
I first met my husband's family while I was dating someone else. My then-boyfriend was gone for the weekend so Taylor and a few of his friends invited me over to Seattle to get away from campus. A timely invitation, just as fall semester (2003) was taking off! We dropped T off at his house first. Their kitchen was being remodeled at the time, so "operations" were held in the basement.
Sebastian (now 9) was still a toddler, binky and all, and I think T's mum was just pregnant with Lydia. I remember going down to the basement with everyone and simply being quiet, in the background, listening to T's friends chat with "Mrs. Black." T was cuddling Sebastian, who had run to him when T walked in the door, climbed into his arms, and stayed their the entire conversation. Meanwhile, I spent the rest of the weekend with the girl Taylor liked. I remember she and I talked about how she might marry Taylor someday.. if things panned out.
That was T's freshman year. We both maintained our other romantic interests, never guessing that in just one year, we'd be dating and on our way to marriage. How funny to look back and see how things developed. We lived in the same building on campus and would talk together about our relationships and friends. I remember visiting T in his room one cold night toward the end of fall semester. He had his heater on all the way and the window wide open. I thought it was strange--what a waste of electricity, right?--but that it was also oddly refreshing to have the blazing warmth of the heater and the cold blasts of crisp air from outside swirling together all around me.
That summer, I broke up with my boyfriend, realizing the relationship had no future, and I made big plans to have a "single senior year" at college [I skipped a year, in case you were wondering where my junior year went]. I was going on to graduate school after I graduated, possibly all the way across the country, and I just didn't have time for any more silly relationships clouding up God's plans for me. I had to be on track, and I had everything figured out.
Or so I thought.
I got back to GU, fall 2004 classes started, and I began to see Taylor more often around campus. We'd serendipitously eat together and sometimes walk to class together (his new dorm was on my way to campus).We went on the Pilgrimage retreat together--a long hike to the first Jesuit mission in ID. I guess that's when we really started getting to know each other.
I was in a photography class that semester and he would accompany me on my photo walks. To this day, some of my favorite pictures of him are ones that I took on hand-rolled 100 ISO black and white film, which I developed and made prints of myself. Fun memories :)
Then Taylor proposed! Wait--you want to know if I missed something? No. He did propose, but not like a real proposal. We were chatting together, talking about all my sweet nieces and nephews, and T's wonderful younger siblings, and he said,
But he went home to visit his family that weekend and, apparently, realized he really liked me enough to want to date me for real. So when he came back to campus, he asked me,
Two weeks later, he told me he was in love with me. Three months after that, he told my father he wanted to marry me. Five months after that, he asked to spend the rest of my life with me. And 10 months after that, we were married. Talk about whirlwind :)
The other day we were chatting with two of our dear friends about their pilgrimage/honeymoon. Michaela was telling us about a slope they were laboring to climb. At a certain point, they stopped for a breath and a drink of water and looked down the mountain. And she told us,
I never knew, when I sat down in front of that "lonely little boy" at that party, that I was saying hello to the man who would come to know me better than anyone. Looking back, I am in awe of the landscape of my past, the paths that led Taylor and me together, and the ways we've walked together.
I am so glad for memory. It is true that we only have the present to live in, but to be able to look back and see how far we've come is a blessing. A tremendous blessing. Because to see your past with the perspective of the present is revelatory and enlightening. Michaela's right, you can't see it, when you're walking now, what it means to be where you are. But that's a blessing too, really.
We emailed back and forth a lot that summer. I was living with my sister-in-law, who was expecting her third kid and had a lot of baby stories :) The most memorable emails, though, were those we sent while I was on a retreat at a convent :) Oh, the dreams we shared that weekend. It was uplifting to meet a guy so excited about religious life.
I first met my husband's family while I was dating someone else. My then-boyfriend was gone for the weekend so Taylor and a few of his friends invited me over to Seattle to get away from campus. A timely invitation, just as fall semester (2003) was taking off! We dropped T off at his house first. Their kitchen was being remodeled at the time, so "operations" were held in the basement.
Sebastian (now 9) was still a toddler, binky and all, and I think T's mum was just pregnant with Lydia. I remember going down to the basement with everyone and simply being quiet, in the background, listening to T's friends chat with "Mrs. Black." T was cuddling Sebastian, who had run to him when T walked in the door, climbed into his arms, and stayed their the entire conversation. Meanwhile, I spent the rest of the weekend with the girl Taylor liked. I remember she and I talked about how she might marry Taylor someday.. if things panned out.
That was T's freshman year. We both maintained our other romantic interests, never guessing that in just one year, we'd be dating and on our way to marriage. How funny to look back and see how things developed. We lived in the same building on campus and would talk together about our relationships and friends. I remember visiting T in his room one cold night toward the end of fall semester. He had his heater on all the way and the window wide open. I thought it was strange--what a waste of electricity, right?--but that it was also oddly refreshing to have the blazing warmth of the heater and the cold blasts of crisp air from outside swirling together all around me.
That summer, I broke up with my boyfriend, realizing the relationship had no future, and I made big plans to have a "single senior year" at college [I skipped a year, in case you were wondering where my junior year went]. I was going on to graduate school after I graduated, possibly all the way across the country, and I just didn't have time for any more silly relationships clouding up God's plans for me. I had to be on track, and I had everything figured out.
Or so I thought.
I got back to GU, fall 2004 classes started, and I began to see Taylor more often around campus. We'd serendipitously eat together and sometimes walk to class together (his new dorm was on my way to campus).We went on the Pilgrimage retreat together--a long hike to the first Jesuit mission in ID. I guess that's when we really started getting to know each other.
I was in a photography class that semester and he would accompany me on my photo walks. To this day, some of my favorite pictures of him are ones that I took on hand-rolled 100 ISO black and white film, which I developed and made prints of myself. Fun memories :)
Then Taylor proposed! Wait--you want to know if I missed something? No. He did propose, but not like a real proposal. We were chatting together, talking about all my sweet nieces and nephews, and T's wonderful younger siblings, and he said,
"Anne, why can't we just get married, start having babies, and have fun?"Naturally, I said,
"Ok! but you'd have to get me a ring."Without missing a beat, T pulled a rosary ring off his desk and handed it to me. And there ya go :) for a whole week, we were "engaged." Who says you can't make-believe as a grown-up?
But he went home to visit his family that weekend and, apparently, realized he really liked me enough to want to date me for real. So when he came back to campus, he asked me,
"Anne, can I date you with the intention of discerning what God wants from our relationship?"Seriously! What more could I ask for!?
The other day we were chatting with two of our dear friends about their pilgrimage/honeymoon. Michaela was telling us about a slope they were laboring to climb. At a certain point, they stopped for a breath and a drink of water and looked down the mountain. And she told us,
"You can't see it, when you're walking, what it means to be where you are."And that really struck me. In fact, I wrote it down right there (I don't think they noticed) ;) and kept it.
I never knew, when I sat down in front of that "lonely little boy" at that party, that I was saying hello to the man who would come to know me better than anyone. Looking back, I am in awe of the landscape of my past, the paths that led Taylor and me together, and the ways we've walked together.
I am so glad for memory. It is true that we only have the present to live in, but to be able to look back and see how far we've come is a blessing. A tremendous blessing. Because to see your past with the perspective of the present is revelatory and enlightening. Michaela's right, you can't see it, when you're walking now, what it means to be where you are. But that's a blessing too, really.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Friday Wanders
not all who wander are lost..
The past few Fridays have lent themselves to some quiet wandering time for my Love and me. We usually have one or two errands in mind, but mostly we take time to spend time with each other. And it's been lovely.
Sometimes we go visit cafes...
or beer shops..
And sometimes we just poke around the streets, stopping wherever we are fascinated.
It's a wonderful life we lead, that's certain :)
Happy wandering to you all!
The past few Fridays have lent themselves to some quiet wandering time for my Love and me. We usually have one or two errands in mind, but mostly we take time to spend time with each other. And it's been lovely.
Sometimes we go visit cafes...
or beer shops..
And sometimes we just poke around the streets, stopping wherever we are fascinated.
It's a wonderful life we lead, that's certain :)
Happy wandering to you all!
Monday, July 12, 2010
Adventures in Sushi
I love sushi. I mean, I really love sushi. I could eat it every day for lunch and dinner without ever looking back. It's fresh. It's simple. It's good for you. And it's so tasty! For me, the simpler the better--no funny mayonnaises (I don't think they use mayo in Japan) or gloopy sauces on top. I like the rice and nori best. Add in avocado (another non-traditional ingredient, admittedly) and some tasty fish and I'm one happy eater.
Clearly, on a limited (ahem--law student) budget, we can't afford to eat sushi nearly as often as I'd like. If I could, I'd probably vote for sushi every time we did go out to eat. Others are of a different mind (for some strange reason)... so my sushi-eating is at a relative minimum. Sadly.
Something had to be done!
and I did it :)
Two weekends ago, we were wandering around a kitchen store with a friend (who's setting up house) and I found a $6 sushi making kit ($4 on amazon). T agreed to get it and I set myself to learning enough about sushi to try making it at home. Fortunately the kit came with a good set of instructions on what ingredients are best, what methods work well, and a suggested list of filling ingredients.
We went to the Asian market last week and found the items we needed. The total came to $40, and I also got about $15 of filling ingredients (most of which was the fresh crab I picked up at the farmer's market) :) but we definitely should be able to get several batches of sushi from the main ingredients, so that's good. Even though we've already spent $60 getting ingredients, that's equivalent to just two meals at a restaurant (for only T and me)--I'm hopeful about the return on our investment :)
So, to begin. I had my sushi kit, and I had decided what to use for the maki: varying combinations of avocado, green onion, sliced cucumber, and fresh crab meat. Of course I had a cup of tea handy for me to sip while rolling :) Tea makes everything better.
I also had Teahouse of the August Moon playing in the background. My favorite Marlon Brando movie. Ever :)
Next, I had to make the rice. This helpful FAQ page gives great instructions on how to make sushi rice (and they're the same as the instructions that came with my kit, so dig in, folks!). I had gotten everything out and ready beforehand, making sure it was all within easy reach. T volunteered to fan the rice for me while I mixed the seasoning in (it has to be cooled to room temperature relatively quickly to get a nice sheen on it). We were a pretty good team :)
But I still had to assemble the rolls. No matter how nice the ingredients are sliced and arranged and laid out, messy rolls just don't cut it for pretty sushi.
In picking a mat, I decided to go for the traditional bamboo slat mat. There are numerous "sushi made easy" kits, but if that "old" mat has worked for thousands of years in Japan, it's good enough for me. Besides, I love bamboo and Momma had a sushi mat in the kitchen for years--the smell of it is so nostalgic for me. We never made sushi with it. In fact, I don't remember what we did do with it, but I loved playing with it and the smell of the bamboo slats will always stay with me..
Recalling my first sushi-making experience, my rice was a tad starchy (maybe I added too much of the sushisu?), and some of the rolls were, um, ambitiously stuffed. But those are things I can improve on. If I get wracked with despair at never making pretty maki, I can always make temaki and go for a less-formal feel :)
I think the rice recipe made about 10 rolls. We gobbled up every last piece of the sushi! It was not the prettiest or most artfully presented sushi ever, but I wasn't expecting it to be. I am completely happy with how my first-try turned out, and am excited to try again this week.
And did you know I've even managed to find a convenient source for sushi-grade tuna?
On the menu for this week:
makizushi with bluefin tuna, avocado, cucumber, and maybe green onions and carrots. Are you as excited as I am? :)
Clearly, on a limited (ahem--law student) budget, we can't afford to eat sushi nearly as often as I'd like. If I could, I'd probably vote for sushi every time we did go out to eat. Others are of a different mind (for some strange reason)... so my sushi-eating is at a relative minimum. Sadly.
Something had to be done!
and I did it :)
Two weekends ago, we were wandering around a kitchen store with a friend (who's setting up house) and I found a $6 sushi making kit ($4 on amazon). T agreed to get it and I set myself to learning enough about sushi to try making it at home. Fortunately the kit came with a good set of instructions on what ingredients are best, what methods work well, and a suggested list of filling ingredients.
We went to the Asian market last week and found the items we needed. The total came to $40, and I also got about $15 of filling ingredients (most of which was the fresh crab I picked up at the farmer's market) :) but we definitely should be able to get several batches of sushi from the main ingredients, so that's good. Even though we've already spent $60 getting ingredients, that's equivalent to just two meals at a restaurant (for only T and me)--I'm hopeful about the return on our investment :)
So, to begin. I had my sushi kit, and I had decided what to use for the maki: varying combinations of avocado, green onion, sliced cucumber, and fresh crab meat. Of course I had a cup of tea handy for me to sip while rolling :) Tea makes everything better.
I also had Teahouse of the August Moon playing in the background. My favorite Marlon Brando movie. Ever :)
Next, I had to make the rice. This helpful FAQ page gives great instructions on how to make sushi rice (and they're the same as the instructions that came with my kit, so dig in, folks!). I had gotten everything out and ready beforehand, making sure it was all within easy reach. T volunteered to fan the rice for me while I mixed the seasoning in (it has to be cooled to room temperature relatively quickly to get a nice sheen on it). We were a pretty good team :)
But I still had to assemble the rolls. No matter how nice the ingredients are sliced and arranged and laid out, messy rolls just don't cut it for pretty sushi.
In picking a mat, I decided to go for the traditional bamboo slat mat. There are numerous "sushi made easy" kits, but if that "old" mat has worked for thousands of years in Japan, it's good enough for me. Besides, I love bamboo and Momma had a sushi mat in the kitchen for years--the smell of it is so nostalgic for me. We never made sushi with it. In fact, I don't remember what we did do with it, but I loved playing with it and the smell of the bamboo slats will always stay with me..Recalling my first sushi-making experience, my rice was a tad starchy (maybe I added too much of the sushisu?), and some of the rolls were, um, ambitiously stuffed. But those are things I can improve on. If I get wracked with despair at never making pretty maki, I can always make temaki and go for a less-formal feel :)
I think the rice recipe made about 10 rolls. We gobbled up every last piece of the sushi! It was not the prettiest or most artfully presented sushi ever, but I wasn't expecting it to be. I am completely happy with how my first-try turned out, and am excited to try again this week.
And did you know I've even managed to find a convenient source for sushi-grade tuna?
On the menu for this week:
makizushi with bluefin tuna, avocado, cucumber, and maybe green onions and carrots. Are you as excited as I am? :)
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