Why I Heart HBO

On the eve before my beloved Game of Thrones returns, I am inspired to accomplish a post I have been thinking about for a long time.  No, it's not about Game of Thrones, although I did consider writing one of those since it's a topic of great enthusiasm for me.  Instead, it's about HBO.

HBO has been a part of my life for a long time, you see.  When I was eight, my parents decided to completely tear down the drafty old farmhouse on five acres we owned and build a new log house on the property.  My dad built the new house himself with some help from his friends and family while working full time.  This meant that while he did that, we lived in one of the apartments he bought for three years.  These apartments were my first foray into living in "town".  Now, I grew up in a town of about 6,000 people, so it wasn't like moving to New York City.  But in a way, it was.  We were now able to have cable.

When we lived in the old farmhouse, we had three channels. Cable did not come outside the city limits.  And during the winter of 1978, one of those three channels went out for months when the antenna for our local ABC affiliate went down in an ice storm.  In the apartment, cable was already set up, complete with free HBO.  I remember being amazed that there were no commercials on this foreign-to-me channel.  There was also no censorship.  There was profanity, nudity, and all kinds of violence.  Okay, so you're probably thinking that this was not the most appropriate viewing material for a child between the ages of 8 and 11.  And you're probably right.

But HBO is where I saw my first musical.  On Broadway.  Richard Harris in Camelot.  I probably watched that at least 102 times, no exaggeration.  In fact, I was a little disconcerted a few years later when I rented the movie from our local public library to see Vanessa Redgrave play Guinevere instead of Meg Bussert.  I also watched wordsmith George Carlin in concert with complete awe.  I watched my first play and documentary.  I saw the Bolshoi ballet perform.  I saw Kiss in concert!  And movies!  I watched countless movies in the days before VCRs and DVD players in a town that had one theater that we rarely visited.

Was most of it inappropriate for an nine/ten/eleven year old?  Yes.  But I loved it.  It was culture I never would have been exposed to otherwise living in a small town in the Midwest.  It began a love of theater, dance, comedy, and story that has lasted a lifetime for me.  I've been teaching for almost 20 years.  The children in the urban/high poverty school district I teach in go to their first play in kindergarten because most educators recognize the importance of experience and culture.  I didn't see a live play until I was in high school (and that was, you guessed it, a high school play) unless you count what I saw on HBO as a child.  And I do count it because it shaped who I became.  It's why later in life, I was willing to sit outside the ticket office the night of a performance of a play or ballet in order to take advantage of a last minute ticket price reduction.

The arts are important.  If you don't think so, boo to you.

 

 I've seen this quote by Churchill before and if he didn't really say this, I don't want to know.  It's too good.

 



Alas, when we moved into our new home three years later, the free HBO did not travel with us.  There were times when we had it because my dad later purchased a gargantuan satellite dish which at times offered free HBO.  I loved those free weeks.  They were the best.

Fast forward to me at age 25, very financially limited, moving into a dormer apartment my first year teaching.  My landlord, who lived on the first floor, informed me that cable was included in my rent.  He opted for the package with HBO because he liked to watch the boxing.  I remembered what it was to have this cultural wonderland for my viewing pleasure again.  I discovered the beauty of the HBO series: The Sopranos, Deadwood, Six Feet Under, Sex and The City, Tracy Takes On, Dennis Miller Live, Curb Your Enthusiasm, and Oz. The HBO series was something new for me.  I don't think they made many series when I was a kid or maybe they were just on too late for me.   There were also new comedians to appreciate, new documentaries to be intrigued by, new live performances to enjoy.  I've managed to financially keep HBO in my life since then. 

So a toast to HBO!  Thanks for the memories and thanks for taking books like Game of Thrones and keeping (most) of the important details in them. Life is so much richer with details. (In my opinion, The Hunger Games trilogy would  have been much more loyally served with the likes of an HBO series than four rushed, two hour movies.)  Let me leave you with a Game of Thrones clip because I cannot help myself.  Trust me, your life will be culturally enriched for at least one minute and 43 seconds.  You're welcome.

Kim

The Mysterious Stink (or Life's Not Always Perfect)

In college, my best friend and I shared an apartment from the time we were sophomores to seniors.  Oh, how happy we were to be out of the dorm and in our own place!  Neither of us were what you would call fastidiously neat.  In fact, if you were to ask our mothers (who were also college roommates), I'm pretty sure they both would say we were slobs.  From time to time, we would get an unpleasant smell in the two bedroom unit we occupied.  The source was usually a mildewed towel or rotten potato in a dark cabinet.  The term we coined for this was "The Mysterious Stink" because we would both smell it, but it was hard to identify what it was and locate where it was coming from for a day or two (or if I'm being more honest, maybe even a week or two).  You see, we couldn't kill it because we couldn't find it. 

Some of my fondest memories of college are of those days we lived together.  If one of us had been a neat freak, it probably would have killed the friendship.  Fortunately, we were not and are still the best of friends.

I've mentioned on the blog before that my mom had a career that she didn't give up when she had children.  You can read all about that in this post if you are so inclined.  She was not a domestic goddess, so I did not learn a lot about "keeping" a house growing up.  This is not to say she did not keep a clean house, but she was prone to clutter just as I am.  We both like "stuff".  My mom had to get the cleaning done in bits and pieces when she could.  We helped, but there was no schedule we all lived by for cleaning the house. To this day, I hate cleaning the house.  I do, however, love the entire five minutes that the house is clean after I am done cleaning it, so I do persist (most of the time) in cleaning it once a week.   I also have some daily rules: No dirty dishes left in the sink, laundry is put away immediately, and beds are always made before you get back into them.  Once a week, the clutter gets "organized" or put away.

I will mention that my husband is also very helpful with cleaning but is cut very much from the same cloth I am. A mess bothers him less than it does me most of the time.  This is one of the reasons why we are such good roommates and still the best of friends.

So you can imagine my consternation when "The Mysterious Stink" came to call a few weeks ago.  I immediately suspected the cats, Yoshi and Patches.  (Yes, we let the kids each name one.) We have two cats that my children received for Christmas several years ago.  Although I do love these cats, they can, at times, be assholes.  At these times, I do call them out for this.  I think they resent me for it.  I also think they know that I am secretly more of a dog person.

 I did make it a point to post on my friend and former college roommate's Facebook wall that "The Mysterious Stink" had made an encore appearance into my life.  I found it both annoying and amusing.  I'm pretty sure that it brought a smile to her face even though she lives hundreds of miles away from me so I can't be positive.

 

Yoshi

 

This is one of our cats.  As I attempted to find a picture of the other one, I remembered that he runs off every time I try to take a picture of him.  Jerk.  He is from the same color palette but short haired and more white than ginger colored.  Our cats are brothers from the same litter.  We got them at a shelter when they were older kittens (which meant a discounted adoption fee).  The original plan was to just get one, but my husband didn't want to split up brothers. I remind him of this every time they do something particularly irksome.

Anyway, I employed the same method that we used in college to ferret out the stench which was identify and locate.  It smelled like cat poo and seemed to be coming from our lower level room where my husband was building under the stairs storage.  He checked and assured me there was nothing around where he was building.  He is always a bit incredulous whenever I try to blame anything on the cats.  They, like most humans, find him far more likeable than me and are partial to him because of this.

This went on for about two weeks on and off.  We would notice it, then it would go away.  Then my daughter was sick during the week.   My husband stayed home with her the second day and did some more work on the under the stairs storage area.  That was when he discovered the cats' indoor toilet waaaaay under the stairs in question.  It seems they didn't like that we had moved the litter box out to the garage which has been colder than average this winter.  They had taken to pooping under the stairs.

Needless to say, he finished up the storage space that day.  It is not accessible to the cats anymore. 

I tell this story not to gross you out (proabably too late for that), but to let you know that life's not always perfect.  You probably already knew that, right?  But sometimes it can seem that way when we just see glimpses of each other's lives through Facebook or blogs or even just every day surface interactions.  One of the first bloggers I started following posted a picture about a year ago of the dirty dishes in her sink and clutter on her kitchen counter.  This was before I had started a blog, but it was one of the first times I ever felt compelled to comment on one.  I wrote, "Thanks.  I needed to see this."  Unrealistic comparison can be a monster that we feed well and regularly. Realistic comparison is the hero that can vanquish it.  It was good to see someone else had a mess in their house that night.  I really appreciated her candor in that post.

I try to write about things that make me happy.  I am also one of those people who post pictures of my smiling kids, delicious food, and adorable pets.  I sometimes post why I love and appreciate my husband.  No one wants to listen to someone bitch and moan. It's even more tiresome to read someone's writing that does the same.  I could have just kept this story to myself and let you enjoy the adorable picture of Yoshi snuggled up to a pillow.  But life is messy.  I think that bears mentioning now and again.  Sometimes the floors don't get mopped.  Sometimes the waistband on my pants is too snug and there is dog hair all over them.  Sometimes my wallet is bulging with receipts that I haven't entered in the checkbook register.  There are mornings when I lose patience with my kids and then regret it once I am at work.  Sometimes "The Mysterious Stink" invades my home.  I can only be glad that I still share my life with someone who finds it both annoying and amusing as well and understands what I mean when I use that term.

Kim

Lucky

The month of March is one of my favorites.  It's the month of my daughter and husband's birthdays.  It's the month of St. Patrick's Day for this (at least partly) Irish, Catholic girl.  (BTW, please don't comment and tell me St. Patrick wasn't Irish.  Duh! I love when people think they're the first ones to discover that.)  And it's the month during which you can still wear winter clothes and they get waaaaay marked down in stores.  It also holds the beginning of spring, although it rarely feels like it in the Midwest. 

As I type this, we have yet another snowstorm heading our way. It's supposed to snow pretty much all day Sunday well into Monday morning.  My house is clean, the laundry is under control, my family is all here, and we're stocked up with food and firewood. I'm looking forward to it.  But then I start to worry about whether or not I'll have to travel on Monday to work.

Lucky for me, this is what was read at mass tonight:

"Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own."

Boy, that really kicks me squarely in the butt.  I wouldn't say I'm the biggest worrywart in the world, but I can compete with the semi-pros.

These words are also a reminder to be present in the day.  Pay attention to the details. It's okay to look forward to what's coming, but don't get caught up in the worry of tomorrow.  Remember how lucky you are right here, right now.

My décor around the house is a good reminder of that.  This sign is for our front door.

 I find that I am a person who likes to decorate with words.  Go figure - a writer who likes to see words around her house.  Not that surprising, is it?   I like the word "lucky".  For me it's a synonym for "blessed" or "fortunate".  Today is where I need to live.  Today that is what I am. 

Kim

Soup and Snow

I love both soup and snow, as the title suggests.  Lately, I've been seeing plenty of both.

Whew!  What a winter it's been!

 

I made a batch of hamburger soup this weekend that was a hit.  Soup is one of my favorites.  I put soup on the same level with cookies and bread.  Who doesn't love it?  I like simple recipes for soup, though, when I'm the one making them.  Start mentioning making a roux or using an immersion blender and I'm out.

 

Saturday night we went to mass at 4:00.  We came out to, you guessed it, more snow.  Was I ever glad I had this in the crockpot for dinner...

 

This is the first recipe I've ever made up myself.  Are you impressed?  Weeeellll... I didn't exactly make it up from nowhere.  I've seen several recipes for "Hamburger Soup", but none of them satisfied me completely.   They either had too few ingredients or too many.  So I combined what I liked from each of them and came up with this. That's allowed, right?  Lots of people create lasagna or chili recipes, but it's not like they came up with the idea of using cheese or beans on their own.  Anyway, this recipe was a success.  My kids and my husband loved it.  It will definitely go into the regular monthly rotation.


Hamburger Soup

1lb hamburger
1 medium onion, diced
1-2 tsp of minced garlic
1 box of beef broth
1 can tomato soup, plus one can of water
1 small can of tomato paste
1 can diced tomatoes
1 can of corn
1 1/2 cup chopped carrots
1 1/2 cup chopped celery
Half  a 14.5 oz. box of pasta of your choice (I used Barilla Plus Farfalle because I knew my daughter would love the bows.)

Directions:
Brown hamburger with onions and minced garlic.  Drain.  In a crockpot, combine hamburger, beef broth, tomato soup, water, tomato paste, diced tomatoes, corn, carrots, and celery.  Cook on low for 8 hours or high for 4 hours.  During the last hour, dump in half the box of pasta.  Serve with grated parmesan cheese and crusty French bread.

I can't do much about the snow, but if the winter blues are getting you down, I can tell you that making a warm bowl of soup is a surefire way to comfort yourself.

Kim



Valuable Valentine's Day

Someone once said to me that Valentine's Day is just a made up holiday.  He didn't understand why anyone would celebrate such a day.  It was dreamed up by greeting card companies and chocolate purveyors, he explained.  (Okay, maybe he didn't say "purveyors", but you get the gist.) 

My response to that?  Of course it is.  And I thank them for doing so.

The truth of the matter is, most everything we celebrate doesn't have to be celebrated.  It's not required that you eat cake on the anniversary of the day you were born or that you must gather together to eat a meal on the day someone graduates from college or that you give your spouse a few sweet words in a greeting card when the day you were married rolls around on the calendar.  No one is going to force you to do any of that. And some people don't.   I, however, choose to celebrate these things - and a few other occasions that are unique to my family.

Here's what I think.  It's valuable to have a day set aside to reflect on things like love, friendship, marriage, getting older, or accomplishing something important.  I'm not sure what a life without celebrations would be like, but I am sure it's not for me.  It's not just in the material things, like Valentine cards or chocolates, about these days  that make them special (although I do think that's part of the fun).  It's the memories you make on these days.  There's also something cool about observing the same day every year and comparing how things have changed, marking the passage of time.

This is a picture of my kids when they were three and one.  It was Valentine's Day.  I had a snow day, so I was able to stay home and fix them heart shaped toast and grilled cheese sandwiches much to my delight.  My daughter helped me bake a heart shaped chocolate cake.  Her excitement about this is something I still remember to this day along with her decorating this cake with conversation hearts. 
My son's Valentine's gift was a book of nursery rhymes and fairy tales illustrated with Disney characters.  We read that book for years.  He loves Donald Duck.  He still occasionally gets it out at eight years old.  My husband brought home red roses for me that year. 

Notice my son is eating those conversation hearts as fast as she can put them on the cake.

 

Such concentration - she was so proud to show her dad when he came home from work.

There have been many days when I have made my kids toast for breakfast and grilled cheese for lunch.  And there have been many times my kids helped me bake something.  But this is one of the days I distinctly remember because it was Valentine's Day.  Believe it or not, my daughter remembers this too. 

So this year, we celebrated this somewhat silly, somewhat made up, lovely holiday with heart pizzas from Papa Murphy's...

some new books (books have become kind of tradition on Valentine's Day) and goodies.

Once again, it snowed pretty much all day on Valentine's Day.  I think that's what might have reminded me of our snowy Valentine's Day seven years ago.  Again, marking the passage of time is fascinating to me.  This year I had the day off because we had two nights of parent/teacher conferences on the two days before the holiday. The kids had a half day of school.  My husband took the day off as well and came through with flowers again.

Flowers and an Amazon card... that man really knows me!

We picked the kids up at noon and had lunch at Panera.  It was a nice way to mark the passing of another Valentine's Day.  I know it's one I will remember.  There's value in that for me.

Kim

Looking Back at January...

Looking back at January means snowmen...

 (and a pug, naturally)

 

 

 

I got the little chalkboard from one of my first graders for Christmas.  In case you can't tell, I wrote, "Let It Snow" on it.  I didn't know it was a magic chalkboard when I got it. Next month I'll be writing "Let Us Win the Lottery" on it.

Snowy owls...

 and, of course, snowflakes 

Snowflakes on the mugs for my hot chocolate and coffee bar...mmmmm



 

 

and snowflakes of the real variety



 

Looking back at January also means a book challenge group I created.  You can read about it here.  It's not too late to join if you want to play along.  This book challenge means that this is what my nightstand looks like right now.

Aren't public libraries one of the best things about our country?

It also was the month in which my niece was baptized.

We were honored to be the godparents.  They made us an offer we couldn't refuse. ;)  I actually didn't come up with that.  A friend of mine on Facebook did.  Too good not to share.

I purchased my first sewing machine.  My daughter and I made two little bags for her American Girl doll.

This was a good project for one of the four snow days we've had this month.  So yes, the Polar Vortex is something I'll always remember about this January.  It made me remember the January I turned seven.  That winter was so bad that we cancelled my birthday party three different times due to the weather.  We finally had it in February.

My husband and daughter attended their third Daddy/Daughter Dance.  I love this event.  And more importantly, I love that they both love it.

 

 

I also made a birthday dinner for my nephew who turned nineteen this month.  I don't have any pictures of him because he's nineteen and I didn't want to mortify him.  I did, however, take some pictures of the food -  lasagna and cheesecake.  I have decided I want the Pioneer Woman's job.  Not the starring in a t.v. show part.  Just the part where she makes large, delicious meals for cowboys.

To serve this meal, I used my mom's blue willow dishes that she collected when I was growing up.  She gave them to me about a year ago because she knew I'd always loved them.  You can kind of see them in the picture above. 

At the end of every January comes my birthday.  I'm an Aquarius.  I don't really buy into astrology, but I think it's kind of fun.  I've always felt the characteristics of an Aquarius fit me pretty well too.

My sister-in-law, who also happens to be my co-worker, surprised me with a bacon donut at work the morning of my birthday.

My family took me out for dinner to our favorite Japanese restaurant.  I then requested CherryBerry because, hey, it was my birthday.  We came home for cake afterwards even though we were all too full to eat a piece.  But I had to have one bite that night for the ceremony of it.

I feel like 2014 is off to a fantastic start. 

Kim

Furry Friday

Welcome to Furry Friday- one of my new ideas for a recurring post 

Dan, bookended by our cats, Yoshi and Patches

Our pets are a big part of our lives. Their sweet faces and the things they do bring me so much joy. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so I don't intend for these to be wordy posts - just a furry photo or two.

Lily Rosemary, basking in the sun

And the snuggle master, the endearing Jack of Hearts

Well, maybe a few words too :)