Family Vacations

My Dad always had to stop at dams along the way.
He was fascinated with hydroelectric power. We were a little less so.

It’s that time of year when folks begin planning a little time away for the summer months. The destinations are as varied as the family configurations. Some like the high energy buzz of amusement parks. Others prefer gathering for family reunions. And some just like to explore different landscapes and experience new adventures. As for me, the best vacations are those that are off the grid of calendar demands and hyper-decision making.

I was fortunate enough to grow up in a family that understood the value of carving out a little time each summer for a family getaway. The vacations were never elaborate and pennies were always watched carefully. The thrill was not so much the destination. Rather, it was the chance to transport ourselves into new environments. The mundane morphed into something exhilarating.

Travel has certainly changed throughout the years. Cars are more reliable and yes, even have air-conditioning. Gone are the hot, windy trips across the state with the wind flapping through the windows and the sun baking us all for good measure. My mom wisely kept a jug of ice water in the car so we wouldn’t dehydrate to the point of needing unscheduled stops. Cars were also sans electronic devices. If you had car trouble, you had to fix it yourself or wait for the goodness of a stranger. If you needed to be entertained, you had to devise a game to pass the traveling hours. We often played the ABC sign game and travel bingo. If you needed to know how to arrive at your destination, you used something called a map.

Although my memories are good when I think back to our family vacations, I have one memory that was very unpleasant. I was the kid who always got car sick. My siblings often ran out of patience with me by the first half hour down the road. I remember curling up in the fetal position on the floor in the back seat, praying for the ride to end soon. Our trip to Yellowstone found me with my head hanging out the window, desperately seeking fresh air as we twisted and turned our way through the mountain roads. Prime window space was not easily won in a car full of opinionated kids. Once in a great while I was given the prima donna spot between mom and dad in the front seat so I could focus on the road rather than my swirling head. I’m sure my siblings were only too glad to get rid of my whining, green face for a moment or two which made it possible for me to garner the coveted traveling spot.

A favorite part of our trips was the chance to buy a souvenir.  We earned pennies throughout the early summer months so we had enough money to buy something on our vacation. We didn’t have many opportunities to shop as kids so it was often overwhelming to be faced with so many retail choices. Much deliberating took place before the final purchase was made. Our trinkets were treasures, indeed.

I hope you get the chance to take a family vacation this summer. Whether it’s to Disneyland across the country or to a lake just down the road, rest assured, you will be building a memory. Oh, and I still think it is a good idea to pack a jug of ice water.

Larks and Owls

Matchmakers seem to be making a comeback these days. There are websites and TV reality shows that focus exclusively on helping folks find a perfect soul mate. Profiles are completed, interviews are conducted, pictures are analyzed and first dates are set up. I don’t know what kind of statistics are available for the number of successful matches made by different entities, but I do know that what we look like on paper is probably not exactly a true reflection of who we really are. And maybe that is a good thing. The old adage about opposites attracting is what keeps the mystery of love from becoming an algorithm of statistical analysis and a resume of likes and dislikes.

Those of you who know my husband and me will not be surprised by my assessment of our personality profiles. I am loud. He is quiet. I talk. He listens. I fuss. He relaxes. I cook. He eats. I like the indoors. He likes the outdoors. I think our greatest difference, however, is our internal clocks. I am a lark and he is an owl.

Just in case you aren’t sure what the difference is between the two birds, here is a description of the two avian characteristics.

Larks:

1)     Morning. Their alarm clocks are for decoration rather than function. They are energized by dawn’s first light and their perkiness can make them offensive to others.

2)     Coffee. It’s a delightful elixir added to the start of new beginnings.

3)     Television. They are able to tell you when the early morning news shows begin, but are clueless as to who the late night talk show hosts are.

4)     Breakfast. They need this meal to fuel their early morning frenzy.

5)     Mid-day. They start to wind down and often need a piece of chocolate to keep going.

6)     Evening. Larks are not responsible for anything spoken from their mouths after 9 p.m. It’s bedtime and they can’t be stopped.

Owls:

1)     Morning. A tortuous set of hours that begins after at least a dozen snooze button hits and two alarm clocks blaring the time of day.

2)     Coffee. It holds them together until they really start waking up at noon. No cream, no sugar, just mainlining the pure java.

3)     Television. They aren’t interested in early morning news shows. Too much reality at such an early hour.  Owls are in their prime when they surf the abundance of night talk shows, movie marathons and MASH re-runs.

4)     Breakfast. Their stomach juices aren’t ready for food. A mid-morning Twinkie will do if a sugar rush is needed to jumpstart the day.

5)     Mid-day. Finally, the day begins. The lethargic fog lifts and it’s time to tackle the day’s events with gusto.

6)     Evening. Owls now begin the internal struggle of just how late can one stay up and be functional the next day. So many projects and so little time.  

Scientific research supports the fact that diversity is the key to healthy ecosystems. So, if you find yourself in a lark/owl relationship, take my advice and enjoy the diversity. Just don’t strike up a conversation too early or too late in the day.

(The following treat is good for an early morning breakfast as well as a late night snack.)

Cinnamon Coffee Cake

1 ½ c. flour

2 tsp. baking pwd.

½ tsp. salt

¾ c. sugar

¼ c. shortening

1 egg

½ c. milk

½ tsp. vanilla

Mix until blended. Pour into 8x8 pan.

Topping:

2 Tbs. flour

1 tsp. cinnamon

½ c. brown sugar

2 Tbsp. butter

Mix until crumbly and sprinkle over batter.

Bake at 375 degrees for 30 minutes.

Lunchbox

The final countdown is in full swing with just a few days to go until the end of the school year. Students gaze longingly out the classroom window as the teachers never seem to stop giving assignments. Teachers gaze longingly out the window as the students never seem to stop asking, “Do we have to do this?” It’s a tug-of-war that begins in August and finally winds down in May.

There is much to be grateful for as the summer months approach. The early morning pondering of what to wear will become less urgent. The e-mail inbox will begin to taper off into more manageable amounts. The before and after school meetings will be absent from my calendar. The last minute rush to change lesson plans when technology isn’t cooperating will fade away. The battles with the copy machine will vanish. And, perhaps best of all, I won’t have to wolf down my lunch in ten minutes while hunched over my computer, desperately trying to catch up on the latest spate of e-mail demands.

During the school year, my lunches are usually last night’s leftovers, packed into a Glad plastic container. I don’t mind leftovers, but occasionally, the pickings can get a bit skimpy. Some days, peanut butter and crackers are the sum total of Mother Hubbard’s cupboard. Certainly, I will not waste away anytime soon, it’s just that I enjoy a little more leisurely pace to my eating moments.

School lunches have always been pretty basic for me. The small school I attended as a youngster did not offer a hot lunch program. Our metal lunchboxes were all lined up on the shelf above our coat hooks, awaiting recess snack time and a lunch time break. This was before the invention of Lunchables, snack sized candy bars, individually packaged food items and zip-lock baggies. Often, sandwiches were wrapped in squares of waxed paper. The waxed paper served a double duty for us as we used the leftover paper to polish our playground slide into a glorious, high speed alley of recess fun (quite sure that that practice would translate into a lawsuit these days). Sandwiches were simple fare with fillings such as cheese slices, lunchmeats and my personal favorite, bacon. Homemade bars and cookies helped satisfy the sweet tooth.

The highlight of our midday lunch options was the advent of an occasional hot lunch provided by the moms of our school. The menu was pretty much the same each time: barbecue, chips and a sweet treat. I’m sure it was a hassle for our moms to prepare and serve the meals, but it was always greatly appreciated as a welcome break from our wax wrapped sandwiches. In high school the hot lunches became a bit more creative with each class taking turns planning and serving the lunches. Again, the moms were on the receiving end of the work while the students gleefully savored the warm meals and the chance to gather in the gymnasium as a school body at lunch time. Barbecue, chips, buns and pickles continued to be the most frequent menu items, with the addition of our high school’s standard Cherry Dessert.

Throughout the years, my lunch box has gone from a metal pink and white container to a brown paper sack to a plastic square container. The contents have also changed with the passing of time. What hasn’t changed, however, is the symbol of the lunchbox. We should all take a little time during each day to refresh and renew. I, for one, am looking forward to a lunch away from my computer and the chance to eat at less than warp speed.

My grade school lunchbox, circa 1965

 

Here is the original Cherry Dessert recipe submitted to the local high school cookbook by the Junior Class of 1963.

22 crushed graham crackers

½ c. butter, melted

½ c. sugar

Mix and place in bottom of 9x13 pan

¾ pt. whipping cream (we didn’t have Cool Whip back then)

3 cups miniature marshmallows

1 can cherry pie mix

Whip the cream, not too stiff. Stir in the marshmallows and pie mix. Spread over the crust and refrigerate.

  

The Mistress

It’s time to share a deep dark secret with you. My husband has a mistress. She’s been a part of our lives since we were first married. She is a little older than I am and is from the Midwest. She is tangy, with just a hint of sweetness. She can brighten a dull meal and, despite a recent modest makeover, she has remained steadfast and true. Her name is Dorothy Lynch. And, yes, she is a salad dressing.

I did not grow up with Dorothy so my first introduction to her was at my future mother-in-law’s home. Little did I know that Dorothy would soon be moving in with us and be an on-going fixture within our household. Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing personal against Ms. Lynch. I’m just fascinated by the longevity of such an unpretentious, old-fashioned salad dressing from Nebraska that lists tomato soup as its primary ingredient.

Over the years, I’ve watched the salad dressing section of the grocery store burgeon from one small corner of a single shelf to scores of shelves filled with a bountiful mix of mind boggling choices.  There are ranch dressings, vinaigrettes, spritzer bottles, seasoning packets, low-fat dressings, peachy-mangoey stuff and on it goes. One has to ask, do we really need all these options?

I suppose our obsession for new and innovative products is rooted in our quest for the perfect fill-in-the-blank. Plain or strawberry yogurt is not enough anymore. We now have every fruit yogurt imaginable as well as yogurt with crunchy toppings, Greek yogurt and GoGurt.  The cereal aisle is a gauntlet of sugary, branny, fibery, charmsy, crunchy, raisiny selections. The classic round box of Quaker Oats oatmeal is tucked in amidst the steel cut oats, instant packets with cinnamon and crispy oat bars. The milk cooler is filled with skim, one percent, two percent, chocolate, strawberry, soy, almond (not sure how you extract milk from a nut) and old-fashioned whole milk. The chocolate chips are nestled on shelves filled with bags of chippettes, chip chunks, cherry drops, cookies and creamlings and peanut butter cup miniatures.  The frozen food section has veggies in sauces, potatoes in squares, circles and wedges, pizzas with thin, thick and filled crusts and ice cream bars, sandwiches, tubs and cartons.  And don’t forget the pharmaceutical aisle. Tylenol, Advil, Bayer and pain relievers for the back, the head, muscle spasms and leprosy.

Despite decades of grocery shopping in aisles exploding with diversity, I must confess that my kitchen is still more beige than tie-dyed. My cupboard has a box of Cheerios and Rice Krispies ready to greet me each morning. My refrigerator has a gallon of regular milk for our drinking and cooking needs. My freezer has a gallon of vanilla ice cream for late night noshing. And, of course, there is dear Dorothy, which leads me to one more deep, dark secret.

I’m glad my husband is still loyal to someone who is over fifty, born in the Midwest and a little bit tangy.

Here is my favorite non-Dorothy Lynch salad dressing. It is delicious on a spinach salad with a few sliced strawberries, toasted walnuts and whatever else you like on your salad greens. 

1/4 c. olive oil
2 tsp. Dijon mustard
2 tsp. rice vinegar
1/2 tsp. garlic salt
2 tsp. sugar
1 tsp. dried basil (optional)
salt and pepper to taste