Basil and Peaches (and a New Appreciation for Summer)

It is no surprise to anyone who knows me that I glean complete and total excitement from food. I am a girl who loves to eat. And while I admit to not being a fan of summer, I have to admit that I have been completely enthralled with summer produce. Last night, I managed to snag some locally grown tomatoes, zucchini, summer squash, peppers, and eggplant. On Saturday, Dan and I are off to our favorite orchard to pick our own peaches and blackberries. Our meals for the next week are going to be a true cornucopia of summer, and I can't wait for the peach and blackberry cobbler that I'll be making this weekend (I must now close my eyes for just a moment and anticipate its goodness. . . mmmm).

On top of all of this, I also bought a bunch of locally grown basil. I have no idea why, but something about this basil is simply divine to me. It is so big, so lush, so pretty. And the scent is unbelievable. When I brought it home last night, I couldn't wait to show it to Dan. Just the sight and scent of it in our kitchen brings me such delight. Aside from strawberries, I can't remember being this excited about another piece of produce all season.

Tonight we enjoyed it in a Bulgur Wheat Salad with Tomato and Eggplant (a perfect recipe for summer). Later this week we'll use it to make a tomato and basil sauce with pasta, and then--a recipe I am eagerly anticipating--a Peach, Mozzarella, and Basil Salad. Fresh mozzarella, fresh basil, and peaches picked right of the tree? I can hardly stand it. I must admit that summer's growing on me.

"It's Alright Cause I'm Saved by the. . ."

This morning at the gym, as I stepped onto the treadmill, I was secretly pleased to see that "Saved by the Bell" was showing on the television directly in front of me. About ten seconds into a corny remark by Mr. Belding, another woman asked if I was watching and if she could change the channel. Too embarrassed to indicate that I was actually enjoying an early 90s show catering to 12-year-olds, I told her to go ahead. Already a bit disappointed to see "Saved by the Bell" disappear, I was dismayed when she pushed a couple of buttons on the remote and Pat Robertson's face appeared on MSNBC.

Next time, I'll risk the embarrassment.

The People-Pleasing Terminator

My job has caused me a good deal of stress lately. There is, of course, the aforementioned home that was supposed to come my way, but luckily that has been removed from my caseload (my boss really is a very good boss). My job is inherently stressful, as is most social work and nonprofit work. There's the endless paperwork, the constant struggle to work with limited resources, the endless crises and customer problems, and the occasional feeling that you will never be able to do enough to really help the people you support. But lately, the thing that has been the most stressful is the part of being a manager. I supervise 7-9 staff (depending upon how caseloads fluctuate), and the last couple of months have, quite frankly, required me to be a complete and total hardass. I've fired two people, essentially pushed two into resignation, and been on top of my staff with all of the things they must get done before our big, fat audit comes in October.

I am good at my job. I set clear expectations--and high ones--and I hold my staff to them. I stick to the rules (for the most part), and I expect only the best for my customers. These things make me a good supervisor. But they also sometimes make me feel like a total bitch. I am, inherently, a people pleaser. At my core, I am someone who just wants to be liked. Firing staff does not make you popular. Telling staff "no" or writing them up doesn't make you feel like the most lovable person. I am good at holding my ground, but sometimes I want to burst into tears afterward. I feel so mean, even when I know I'm doing the right thing for my customers. Most days, that feeling of being mean and having people upset or angry with me causes me more stress than any other aspect of my job.

I don't want to make this sound like I am an authoritarian supervisor, because I'm not. I am supportive and available, trusting and appreciative. I encourage my staff to take care of themselves. I buy donuts for meetings. I leave random personalized thank you notes in my staffs' mailboxes for a job well done. But lately all of this has been overshadowed by the fact that my main role has been "the terminator." My boss even sends me "problem staff" because she knows I am the best person to either whip them into shape or ship them out. And in the last six or eight weeks, the little part of me that just wants to be liked has felt bruised and battered as I've shipped out one person after another.

This morning, I held a meeting with my team. As we were all sitting around together sorting through paperwork, one of my staff said, "You know, Jennifer, you're doing a really good job. I've worked here for eleven years, and you're the best supervisor I've had." Another staff chimed in, "Yeah. If you ever leave, I'm going, too. I don't want to work for anyone but you." And the little part of me that just wants to be liked let out a huge sigh of relief. It wasn't until I heard those words that I realized how much I needed to hear them. I am a good terminator, but in the end, I really just want to be someone's favorite boss.

Empty Space

I absolutely love having people come to visit. There is little that I anticipate more than the arrival of a dear friend or family member for a stay at my house. I love planning meals and treats I can make for guests, thinking up places I can take them, and finding ways that I can share with them a little piece of my life here in St. Louis. I love the different energy that comes in my house when someone else is here occupying its space. Since nearly all of my friends have moved from St. Louis, I rarely have company here anymore. Dinner parties, Christmas parties, watching movies with friends. . . these are all things I have always looked forward to hosting, and things that I have really missed in the last year or two. I am the person who loves making the house nice for someone else, who tries to make things look and smell and taste pretty in hopes that my home can be a place of comfort and rest. I make invitations, I bake treats, I light candles, I plan special meals. When it's all over and my guests depart, I almost always feel the sadness of the empty, hollow space that is left from the absence of a visitor.

My sister flew out of St. Louis this morning. Even last night, I was feeling the sadness of her departure. Her leaving, combined with some job-related stress that has come upon me of late, left me in tears for at least an hour this morning. I just couldn't seem to stop crying. The distractions of work kept me from feeling the loneliness of a departed guest, but when I came home this afternoon, there it all was. The dirty sheets and blanket that I placed in the laundry, the old boarding pass that my sister had left behind that I tossed into the recycling bin. I gently took down the "Happy Birthday" banner and streamers I had put up for her, and put away the bag in which I had placed her birthday gift. I carefully deflated the helium balloons I brought to the airport when I picked her up, tossing them into the trash. I discarded the gladiolas I purchased at the farmer's market while she was here, now sagging and turning brown. I found something my sister had left behind and set it aside to be mailed. I picked things up, I did the dishes, I returned everything to its state of normalcy. And it feels normal. . . almost. But there's still a little something missing, too. A little too much empty space.

Seester is Here!

On Thursday evening, my sister arrived for a visit. For those of you who aren't aware, my sister and I often call each other "Seester." It all started a few years ago when I was speaking in some sort of ridiculous Spanish-like accent, and "sister" came out more like "seeester," and for some bizarre reason it stuck. In fact, we tend to call each other "Seester" more than we call each other by our names. It's completely silly, but that's the kind of thing you get if you spend enough time with me.

So. . . Seester, as I will continue to refer to her, flew in Thursday night; Thursday also happened to be her birthday. I am so excited that she is here because it's been a long time since we've had any real time together without the rest of our family present. And we've already done a host of fun things together.

Thursday night: Met Seester at the airport with Happy Birthday balloons, then went to hear my beloved Erin Bode play (though the venue sucked). Afterwards, we had Dairy Queen ice cream cake at home and watched an episode of "So You Think You Can Dance" taped from Wednesday night.

Friday: While Dan was at work, Seester and I went to the Botanical Gardens and then had veggie wraps and salads at Jilly's, a local cupcake bar. We of course also took home a couple of gourmet cupcakes for later. :) Friday night, we all headed to the Muny for the 90-year anniversary review, which actually turned out to be great fun. Oh, and we had delicious Jimmy John's subs (mmm).

Saturday: We had planned to pick our own peaches and blackberries, but when I called the orchard, they said they would not be ready for picking until next week (sadness). So we headed to the Soulard Market for some peaches and other local produce (as well as some locally-made goat cheese). In the afternoon, we saw "WALL-E," which I highly recommmend. It's very cute and clever, and is one of the best movies I've seen in a while. In the evening we had dinner at one of my favorite local eateries, House of India, which was Missy's first time eating Indian food!

Today's plan is church and a quiet day at home. We'll probably play board games and read books. We also have some delicous meals lined up, including made-from-scratch muffins for breakfast, roasted vegetables with pasta for lunch, homemade veggie burgers with sweet potato fries for dinner, and peach crisp for dessert! Before Seester leaves on Tuesday morning, we'll head to the Muny again tomorrow night to see "Miss Saigon," bringing a picnic of nuts, cheese, crackers, fruit, and brownies with us.

It is such wonderful fun to see my seester, and one of the great things about having someone visit is that it feels like a vacation in your own home and your own city. Seester visits are the best! :)

Good Thing: "John Adams"

I know I've already mentioned this, but I really recommend that everyone see it. As it is based on the Pulitzer-prize winning book by David McCullough, I feel fairly certain that it is historically accurate. I feel like I have a much better grasp of--and appreciation for--our country's founding just by watching this series, and I am amazed at the pieces of history I either forgot or never learned.

How, for instance, did I not know that John Adams and Thomas Jefferson (the "voice" and the "pen" of the Declaration of Independence) both died on July 4, 1826, exactly 50 years after the Declaration was ratified? Or that Adams, a lawyer in Boston before his days in politics, served as defense attorney for the British soldiers accused in the Boston Massacre? I was very interested to learn how much wheeling and dealing occurred among the states to secure a unanimous vote for independence, and I had no awareness of the loving and egalitarian relationship between John and Abigail Adams, a marriage well ahead of its time.

The focus of the series is on Adams, but the scope is broad, and the cast of characters includes everyone from George Washington to Ben Franklin to Alexander Hamilton. Oh, and did I mention that I totally have a new fascination with Thomas Jefferson?

Not So Fast

• Just last week, my dad asked about my myriad of health issues. I mentioned to him that my migraines were getting much better, occurring less frequently and less intensely. On Saturday, I was having trouble seeing. I instantly knew a migraine was coming. What I did not know was how bad it would be. I threw up not once, not twice, but six times over the course of a few hours. It was awful, awful, awful. So much to the end of horrid migraines.

• On July 4th, I decided to add some new leg exercises to my workout. Thinking that my legs were probably already in decent shape from running, I dove right in and did several sets. Big mistake. The next day, I couldn't walk down stairs without taking them sideways (please take a moment to picture this and then feel free to laugh), and just walking in general was a bit of a challenge. Dan and I even had to postpone our paddle boat plans a day for fear that my legs would be in too much pain to be any help with paddling. Sad, sad, sad.

• Work has been going well lately. I've fired a couple of troublesome staff, have brought on some great new hires, recently got a raise, and was finally getting caught up. On Friday, my boss called me into her office and said she needs me to take one of our residential homes for a while (holding homes has not been a part of my job since last October). Though it will come with some bonus pay, just the thought of the extra work is already stressing me out. Just when I was getting caught up, too. . . .

• Each week, Dan and I watch "So You Think You Can Dance." (Aside: I love, love, love this show, and if you have considered watching it but haven't tuned in yet, you should give it a try.) I have been waiting for the last two or three weeks for Comfort to be off the show. It's not that I have anything against her in particular; I just don't think she's as good as the other remaining contestants, though I'll admit that I'm not exactly an expert on hip-hop. Anyway, she was finally removed from the show last week, and I felt relieved. I then checked the headlines this afternoon and discovered that, despite all odds, she is coming back. What?

Preserving the Harvest

A couple of times a year, I flip through the continuing education offerings of the local community college and the Missouri Botanical Gardens. I've taken classes on investing and financial management, buying a house, fair trade coffee, and even massage (a class which Dan and I took together). Thursday night, I took a class called offered through the Gardens called "Home Plate: Preserving the Harvest," which focused on different food preservation methods, including canning, freezing, and drying.

A complete novice at all methods of food preservation, I was excited to learn about ways Dan and I could preserve the apples we pick every year, the peaches we're hoping to pick next week, the tomatoes of summer, and so many other delicious fruits and vegetables that make their way through our house each season. I cannot say that we always eat seasonally and locally, but we are trying to move more in that direction, and I hoped that taking this class would help us find ways to hang on to some of our summer produce for enjoyment later this year.

The class was quite instructive, providing lecture and demonstrations as well as a take-home handbook filled with tips and recipes. Freezing, of course, was the simplest option if you have the freezer space, which we don't. I feel as though I could get canning down, but we'd have to purchase some equipment, and our kitchen is so small that I question my ability to do it well and to find a place to store everything. We have about three feet of counter space in our kitchen--and that's if we remove the toaster oven. And additional storage space, including space to store a pressure canner and canned food items? Forget it. I'll probably give canning a try for a select few things, but canning on a larger scale won't happen until we move, hopefully to a place with a bigger kitchen!

What I was most excited about was drying food, and I wanted to share this info with you because it seems so easy to do. You can purchase a food dehydrator for $50-100 (I found several on Amazon), and with this you can dry everything from tomatoes to peaches to apples to garlic to mushrooms to corn to. . . you name it. You can either enjoy the food dried (such as peaches) or rehydrate it later (such as corn). If you are a meat-eater, you could also use it to make jerky, and of course it's very useful for drying foods for backpacking or camping(our instructor told us that her husband puts dried vegetables into a jar with some water, allows the vegetables to rehydrate while he is hiking, and heats them later in the evening).

The dehydrator is a circular piece of equipment with trays (pictured below) that uses electricity. I think most dehydrators come with their own recipes, though of course your drying time will depend on how thickly you cut your produce, how dry and crispy you prefer it, etc. You just plug it into the wall, check it periodically, and--voila! Dried produce! We sampled some dried peaches at our class and they were amazing. And the best part is that it was nothing more than peaches--no preservatives or anything besides delicious fruit.

While I'm sure that I will get to canning down the road, I am adding a dehydrator to my wish list pronto. That is, if I can manage to wait for it. With peaches just waiting to be picked--and the memory of those delicious dried peaches still on my tongue--I just might have to buy one right now!

The Muny

As most of you know, I am not a summer gal. I live for fall, I quite enjoy winter and spring, but summer is a different story. I just get hot SO easily. I can't stand what the heat and humidity does to me. Not to mention the fact that remaining cool necessitates the baring of my pale skin. I think pale skin is lovely, but in the summer mine just feels pasty and ghoulish to me. Combine all of this with the fact that I think I am allergic to wearing a bathing suit, and you can see why summer is not my bag.

However, there are some things about summer that I do enjoy. Summer evenings can be lovely. Fireworks at the 4th are fun. The produce rocks. I get excited every time I see a firefly. There are always lots of festivals and outdoor concerts and activities that don't come around any other time of year. And in St. Louis, there is the Muny.

(FYI: In case my status as a complete and total dork has been questioned in any way, this post should set the record straight.)

The Muny is the country's oldest and largest outdoor theatre. It seats 9,000 and is located in Forest Park. Each summer, the Muny is home to seven full-scale, professional musical productions. When I first heard about an outdoor theatre, I was skeptical of the quality of the shows, but they have rarely disappointed. Full sets, full lighting, professional and talented actors, amazing costumes. . . it's got it all. It's honestly just like seeing a show at the Fox, except it happens to be outside.
Perhaps the coolest thing about the Muny (particularly for post-graduate school social workers like me) is that there are always over 1,500 free seats available. FREE! Each summer, I eagerly anticipate the start of each season, marking the shows (each of which runs for a full week) on my calendar. As soon as the season begins, Dan and I stand in line for the free seats each week with a cooler of drinks and dinner in tow (another fun Muny fact: you can take food in with you). The heat can sometimes be nearly unbearable until the sun goes down, and there is definitely a lot of sweating involved, especially on the bum and back of the legs (eww). But it is always worth it.

Dan and I have already caught "The Producers" and "My Fair Lady." We skipped "High School Musical," but we will definitely be there for "Miss Saigon," "My One and Only," "Fiddler on the Roof," and a review called "90 Years of Muny Magic," celebrating the Muny's 90th season. As a lover of the theatre and the arts, it is so exciting to me to be able to see professional productions for free, particularly since our budget would never allow us to pay to see so many shows. And I love that the free seats make the Muny accessible to so many other people who might otherwise never have a chance to experience the theatre at its best.
Knowing that this is likely our last summer in St. Louis, I am already counting down the remaining productions in my head. The Muny has been a tradition for me and Dan for several years now, and I know it is something I will really miss. For me, it has been the highlight of summer, and I'm going to try to appreciate what I have left to experience. Once we move, I'll still enjoy the produce and the fireflies, but summer will not feel quite the same.

Weekend Highlights

• The fact that the weekend was three days instead of two!

• Finishing another novel on Friday night, and starting yet another on Sunday. . . I am on a roll, people! It is so fun to be reading so much again.
  

• Finally getting around to hemming two new pairs of pants, including some fabulous red ones that I can't wait to wear next week.

• Having dinner with Dan at Schlafly Bottleworks, one of my favorite St. Louis eateries. I had their delicious mac-and-cheese with their field greens salad--I crave their vanilla vinaigrette dressing with goat cheese every time!

• Getting in a fabulous workout on Friday morning, and feeling good that I am getting committed enough to my exercise to head over to the gym on a holiday.
  

• Enjoying again and again a huge fruit salad that Dan made with watermelon, strawberries, red grapes, and cantaloupe. Sooo delicious, and so perfect for a summer day.

• Spending two hours walking by myself at the Botanical Gardens, where I had the pleasure of seeing, among other things, an endless sea of colorful day lilies and the most gorgeous lotus flowers I have ever seen on the water at the Japanese Gardens.

• The paddle boats at Forest Park! The weather finally cooperated. Dan and I took a trip around the water in the park, then had brunch by the lake afterward. It couldn't have felt more like summer.
  

Independence Day

For me, the 4th of July is one of those holidays that, for the most part, is little more than a blip during my year. I can't remember the last time I actually went to a big cookout on the 4th. This year, as in most prior years, Dan and I will have our own little "cookout" at home, comprised of veggie dogs cooked up on the George Foreman grill, some chips and baked beans, a fruit salad, and six bottles of beer. As a lover of fireworks, I do make sure to catch a show every 4th, and that is definitely one of the highlights of my summer each season. But aside from that, Independence Day is not something to which I typically give much thought.

Coincidentally and completely unintentionally, the "John Adams" HBO miniseries has made its way to the top of my Netflix queue in the last several days. This is not something that would likely find its way into my queue under most circumstances, but Laura Linney plays Abigail Adams, and I love Laura Linney so much that I will see just about anything she's in (except "Congo." I feel fairly certain that I will never watch "Congo").

The miniseries has seven parts. I watched parts 1 and 2 on Sunday. Part 1 chronciles the aftermath of The Boston Massacre and Adams' invitation to be a part of the first Continental Congress. Part 2 includes increased violence leading up to the war, the nomination of George Washington to lead the Continental Army, the battle in Congress over whether to declare independence, and the drafting and eventual adoption of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776.

I have absolutely no idea how historically accurate the series is. But as I've been watching it, I've realized just how much I do not know about the history of our country's founding, and what a shame that is. We all know, on some level, that we are fortunate to live in America, even when we bitch and whine endlessly about everything that is wrong with it. We've all learned (to some extent) in our history classes about the struggles of those first Americans who fought for independence, and at what cost that independence came. But I think it's safe to say, for the most part, that we never really think about it. Even on Independence Day, which is a day to reflect on what it really means to live in a country that is free, few of us are contemplating the Declaration or the Bill of Rights, or the passion and sacrifice that were required for their creation.

Now, I realize I am teetering on the lyrics of a new Lee Greenwood song here, and there is no need for any more of those. And I can't help but be reminded when I watch the miniseries that were are no women, or American Indians, or African Americans involved in our country's founding, and that the freedom we fought for did not mean freedom for all. I can't forget that, even today, everyone in this country does not equally reap the benefits of our democracy. Nonetheless, what our country's founders did was still huge, and it is something we are all benefiting from. It is, no doubt, something that we take for granted more often than not.

So, as I'm chowing down on my veggie dogs and watching the fireworks display this year, I'm going to try to take a minute and remember what Independence Day is really all about. When you think about all the courage and the passion that went into taking a stand against a powerful oppressor over 200 years ago, all the rights we take for granted that are denied to so many others, and what sacrifices were made to take that stand and to declare those rights, that is something to truly feel grateful for, and something to really celebrate.

Good Thing: His Dark Materials

Lately, I've been in a complete reading void, at least as far as novels go. I've read plenty of magazines (between my subscriptions to Real Simple and Vegetarian Times, plus a gift from my sister-in-law of Oxygen, I never seem to be without a new issue on my nightstand). I've browsed through some nonfiction. But it's been a long time since I've sunk my teeth into a good novel--one of my favorite things to do.

My lack of serious reading time has been due to many factors. One is the release of "Party of Five: Season 3" on DVD, which greatly increased my time in front of the tube. Add to that the necessity of watching old episodes of "Sex and the City" prior to the movie release, and I hardly left my couch. Work has been superbusy, and when I've gotten home after 10-14 hour days, my brain has been fried. And, to some extent, I've lost some book time due to this blog, and catching up on others' blogs, which has resulted in a good deal of time in front of the computer screen each week (sometimes more than I would like).

But now that work has slowed down and I have all my TV on DVD viewing completed, I have finally taken the time in the last few weeks to pick up a novel. Three of them, actually. With encouragement from Dan (who finished them before me), I read my way through Philip Pullmans's His Dark Materials, a fantasy trilogy also known as The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife, and The Amber Spyglass. Fantasy is a word that I'm always a little afraid to use when it comes to literature, but think Harry Potter rather than Dungeons and Dragons.

I haven't seen "The Golden Compass" movie, and I wasn't sure what to expect. The first book was slow going for me. Very slow going. In fact, I think I first picked it up back in January or February, then picked it up and put it down several times after that before I finally broke through. I say this to let you know that, should you find the first book slow going, you should keep reading. By the end, it really picks up, and the second and third books are nearly nonstop. Last night, I came home from work and announced to Dan that, following dinner, I would be unavailable to do anything else because I needed to know as soon as possible how the trilogy ended.

When I finally reached the end last night, I remembered the wonderful thrill of finishing a great book. . . that bittersweet feeling when you are delighted to know how things end, but sad that it is over. At that moment, I usually just sit with the book closed, holding it for several moments, taking it all in, thinking it all through, and in some ways, saying goodbye as I close the back cover after finishing the last page. I love the feeling of just letting the book sink into your soul when you're done.

And now that I've remembered how great it feels, I can't wait to start my next novel. Tonight. Pronto. If, like me, you've been missing a few good books in your life, His Dark Materials might be a good place to start.