Plenty to say…

I have plenty to say and no time to say it.

Sorry.

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Sundays with Grandma: Double Duty, Part II

At Ang’s (and my) request, we celebrated his 31st birthday at Grandma’s house.  Grandma let us help her make Ang’s favorites: baked spaghetti and flank steak with sautéed mushrooms.  When the time came for us to help out though, things didn’t go exactly as I had planned.

I had visited Grandma on Friday to discuss the details:  I’d arrive at her house on Saturday afternoon, and we’d make a trip to the grocery store for provisions.  On Sunday, I would arrive around noon to start the sauce.  Grandma said four hours would be enough time for the flavors to meld.  Excellent.

There’s something about Grandma’s sauce that they just don’t get right with the jarred stuff.  I’m not sure how to describe it – the closest explanation I can give is that the preserved sauce is over-spiced and far too sweet.  Oddly enough, those are the same criticism that I make toward store-bought pumpkin pies vs. Grandma Doris’.

I got a call from my Dad at around 8AM on Saturday.  While we were at Joe’s Opening Ceremony for Moorpark Little League, Uncle Sam had taken Grandma to the store to get the supplies.  I was a little disappointed, but no big deal; I was looking forward to the outing with Grandma, but I was more so excited to simply learn to make the sauce.

The next call came at about noon.  It was Dad again – Grandma had made the sauce without me.

Sunday arrived and in the first half of the day we went to Mass at the Mission to celebrate Grandma Doris’ 80th.  Afterward, I headed to Grandma’s to begin construction of the evening’s dinner.  Upon arrival, I discovered that a flank steak was already broiling and the mushrooms had been sautéed.  Luckily, there was a whole other steak that I could see cooked from beginning to end.  We boiled the spaghetti and began assembly of the baked pasta.

Following Grandma’s example, we carefully layered each component into the waiting oven pan. Sauce, spaghetti (still very al dente – it continues cooking in the oven), (cooked) ground beef, a light sprinkle with grated Parmesan, Italian breadcrumbs; repeat 2x.

The flank steaks were marinated overnight in soy sauce and garlic.  Stabbing it with a fork a few times help.  We stuck it under the broiler until it looked like it needed a flip.  It’s pretty straight-forward – at least when Mary’s not in the way, trying to warm herself by the oven.

Mel sliced the steak (against the grain and on the bias) and Mary and Lucila helped top them up with the mushrooms.

Meanwhile, Joe and Jon kept busy with baseball in the backyard.  Jon helped Joe fine-tune his swing with proper form.

Before going to Grandma’s, I had stopped by BevMo! and picked up some beer for Ang.  I got something that I know he likes (Hoegaarden) and took a chance on “the true champagne of beers,” Chimay.  I mean, it’s made by Trappist Monks; it’s got to be good!

After a brief “toast to the home" in salute of Kings Stefan and Hubert, we gave it a try.  Suffice it to say, we were nonplussed.

Here’s a view of the dinner table:

{Video to be added shortly}

When we were making the spaghetti, we set aside one corner for Grandpa.  We covered it with extra Parmesan.  Grandpa was known to lop off chunks of Parmesan or Romano cheese and pop them into his mouth.  He dazzled us one day with a moment of self-realization: “You know, I think I’m part mouse,” he said with deadpan seriousness before cracking a slight smile.  We all passed around Grandpa’s piece and ate a little bit… Cheesy, I know, but that’s the way Grandpa would’ve wanted it. 

We sang “Happy Birthday” in our usual over-the-top way, and Ang “blew out his candles” in his usual over-the-top way.    Actually, Moker snuck in and blew out most of them, but Ang had special plans for the last one.  He walked it over to the sink, dripped some wax in, and set the candle on top of it.  He left it there to burn itself out.  The cake was pineapple upside-down cake – Grandpa’s favorite.

There’s plenty more to talk about, but this post has become a little long-winded.  I need to find a way to better self-edit.  Enjoy the pictures/videos!

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Fear is a Motivator

I'm not sure if it's Bloody Mary, Poltergeist, or Pennywise (or a combination of all of them), but I have a really hard time with mirrors in the dark -- particularly bathroom mirrors.

This is embarrassing, but it's one of those childhood fears that crept into OCD and never really went away. If I wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, I have to turn a light on. It's not because I'm afraid of home invasion - it's 100% because of movies I shouldn't have seen so young.

The smallest light in our bathroom is on the far end of the bathroom - it's about a 12ft trip. My feet fall heavily and my pace (along with my heart-rate) quickens as I make this lengthy journey in the dark, singing a random song to myself, lest I inadvertently say "Bloody Mary" three times in my head and summon red eyes from the mirror. The same thing goes for the trip out when I'm through.

I also often peek behind myself to the shower stall - just to make sure Pennywise hasn't crept up from the sewers. I'm certain that this fear was the reason for my terrible hygiene as child - for the uninitiated, showers used to be a semi-annual event for me. I was a holiday Catholic, except it was showers, not church that I avoided for the rest of the year. Maybe I figured God would make sure nothing would happen if I was showering for Christmas and Easter.

Oh... and guilt too.

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Evolutionary Thriller

What if congenital disease is humanity’s way of pre-empting horrible events?

For example, someone gets cancer (of the non-behavior variety) because nature realizes that there’s something wrong with their DNA – a problem that will lead to sociopathic offspring, or some catastrophic event.  We think we’re trying to save peoples lives by curing these diseases, but we’re really bringing about the end of human existence.

There are issues with this, though.  For example, many congenital diseases don’t kill you before your able to reproduce… BUT that just means that nature hasn’t gotten good enough at killing us yet.

Ooh! What if embryonic stem cell therapies actually SPED UP this process somehow.  Wouldn’t that be ironic?!

It’s a terrible thought.  Let me be clear: I don’t feel this way.  I’m just saying, it might make for a good science fiction novel.

…

…

I’m not a very creative person.

UPDATE:  My boss (?) thinks this sounds like something Michael Crichton would write.  Well, he died last year.  Of cancer.  Coincidence?  I'd better get started on the mock-biography...

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Sundays with Grandma: Double Duty, Part I

This Sunday, we celebrated Grandma Doris’ 80th birthday.  10:30AM Mass at San Fernando Mission, followed by donuts at the park across the street.  Admittedly, we don’t see Grandma as much as we should, nor in that level of attendance, which made it that much more enjoyable.

The drive to Mission Hills is no mystery to me; I spent two years at Bishop Alemany High School (after the Earthquake, but when they were still “The Indians”).  So, I was prepared to rise early in order to make it on time.  In reality, we got to sleep in (we usually go to 7:30AM Mass at Holy Cross).  Still, getting both kids ready and out the door is no easy feat – I owe my wife.

We showed up around 10 o’clock and, after talking to Uncle Phil, found that Grandma hadn’t arrived yet.  To my surprise, she was driving in from Springville that very morning.

155 Miles – about 3 hours… And I thought we had to get up early…

As it happened, she was a little late to Mass.  I don’t think God will hold it against her.  I’m not so sure my sisters will get such a free pass.  Melanie fired off a “CLICK!” during a silent moment of Mass (my dramatic memory recalls the moment of Transubstantiation).  Mary made sure Dolce was in attendance.  This is Dolce:

Sophia’s interest was piqued when she spotted the tufts of orange fur protruding from Mary’s “pet purse.” “DOGGIE!” she exclaimed mid-Mass.  My fears of eternal damnation were allayed when Monsignor Weber joined us after Mass and asked if he could hold the pup.  {Link to Mel’s Blog when she finally gets around to developing her film.}

Across the street we went to Brand Park to partake of our donut feast.  Donuts are kind of a tradition for this side of the family. {Maybe an explanation will follow in a future post if I can find some good pictures.}

We saw lots friends and family that we don’t see enough – so it made me both happy and sad.

See you soon with Part II.

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Bear with me…

I’m trying a new blog thingie.  It’s where it only shows you a summary on the main page, and you have to click through to see the whole post. 

There are two reasons I’m trying this out:

1. It lets me figure out which stories are you find most interesting by tracking the number of times they’ve been clicked.  This helps me improve my writing.
2. Sometimes the stories get long, especially when I insert a bunch of pictures.  I know that scrolling down-down-down can be a pain, especially as I’m catching up and pre-dating stories.

NOTE: None of this really matters – only a handful of people read this anyway…

So let me know if this is a huge bother (by commenting on this post), and I’ll revert.

Picture used with permission from Ron Niebrugge @ wildnatureimages.com

UPDATE: This is no longer applicable.  Nobody liked it – I’ve switched back.

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Picking Lemons & Eating Cookies – January 11, 2009

We visited Grandma.  Basically, just dropped in on her to see how she was doing.  In classic fashion, she invited us in – and just as quickly sat us down to eat.

It wasn’t mostaccioli or flank steak – it wasn’t homemade at all.  From her pantry, she pulled a seemingly endless supply of store bought cookies.  Maple-flavored Windmills, chocolate-striped shortbread, and various types of sfogliatine.

It was a surprisingly warm and beautiful day for mid-January, but it is southern California after all, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

Grandma offered us some lemons off of her overgrown tree, and we were happy to take them.  Before we knew it, Joe was using them to play catch with Meg.  Sophie and Grandma were rolling them across the table to each other.  I did some juggling.

There wasn’t really anything “special” that happened.  It was a just a good day with Grandma.  But it was nice to just sit around and do nothing in particular, and yet have a great time.

The best part

Entire video

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Sundays with Grandma - February 8, 2009

Pretty much every Sunday we've been visiting Grandma.  Grandpa died last year; I think it's part of our mourning.  It doesn't really feel that way though.  We have a blast.

Grandma usually teaches us something.  On rare occasions, we're able to reciprocate.  Above, we're showing her how to use a camcorder.  She's showing us how to make chicken soup with turkey meatballs and acini di pepe.  We made out like bandits.

I think I'll make this a weekly series.

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Let's give this another go...

I'll probably fail like last time.  Oh, well.

I’ll be adjusting the posting dates on the next couple of posts to make it appear as though they were posted much earlier.

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