Must Haves

The fashion world often recommends a list of “must haves” for every woman of style. The list usually includes items such as a basic black dress, a pencil skirt, a crisp white shirt and a jacket with a pop of color. I’m going to go on record by saying that my social calendar never demands a black dress, my hips will never jimmy into a pencil skirt, crisp and white lasts only until the first washing and the only pops of color on my jackets are a few coffee stains. A woman of style I am not.

I do, however, have a few other must haves. Since my time in the grocery store outnumbers my time in a clothing store at a ratio of 1,000:1, I’ll focus on the kitchen.

1) Mustard—I have at least 4 kinds. Dijon is the standard pick when I want to add just a little kick to my food. Whole grain mustard is my choice when I want a texture boost. Honey mustard is a nice addition to turkey or ham sandwiches. And last, but not least, is the big squirt bottle of the neon yellow stuff that is perfect for a color and taste boost to just about anything.

2) Cream—yes, I said cream. A little goes a long way when it comes to a finishing touch on, well, just about anything. I grew up on the stuff and I can’t seem to let it go. That blue milk will never do the trick in my book.

3) Onions, carrots and celery—the trinity of taste. There is something calming about chopping up a pile of vegetables and dropping them into whatever is on the menu for the day. Beats swallowing a multi-vitamin.

4) Cheerios—little O’s of go power. I eat them by the handfuls. I should probably have one of those cute little Cheerio snack containers that all the kids have, but I prefer to just shove them in my mouth, leaving a trail of oaties in my wake.

5) Saltines—plain, no sea salt or whole grain fanciness. There isn’t anything that doesn’t go with a saltine. It’s a platter for sweet or savory and is just the right size, even though one is never enough.

6) Chocolate Chips—by the handful or by the bag, good either way. Nothing says love like a batch of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and I like to be prepared for a bake-a-thon when the mood hits.

7) Kitchen scissors—take these away and I’ve lost my right hand. Bags never seem to open along the “tear here” mark so I need back up.

8) Coffee—at the ready at all times. I’m not above reheating a leftover cup from the day before (addictions aren’t always pretty) but I prefer a freshly brewed pot.

9) Cheese—the eighth wonder of the world. Cheddar and parmesan are the base of all goodness. Feta, havarti, gouda and goat cheese fill in the gaps. There’s a reason we are told to say “cheese” when we have our picture taken. Who can be sad when cheese is on the mind?

I may not have a closet full of pencil skirts and crisp white shirts, but my coffee pot is always bubbling away. And if you are craving a ham sandwich, I’m sure I can rustle that up for you, too. Your choice of mustard.

Here’s a yummy mustard dip that would taste good on a napkin.  I prefer it with pretzels or veggies.

1 1/2 c. mayo

3/4 c. sugar (yes, that is the right amount)

6 Tbs. yellow mustard (from the big squeeze bottle)

1 Tbs. vegetable oil

Garlic powder and dill weed, to taste

March

March is the horse latitudes of teaching. It is the time of year when the winds of progress stall out and there seems to be no end in sight as we bob along in the ocean of academic endeavors. Something or someone might need to be thrown overboard before our voyage can continue toward landfall. Oh, March, how you try my patience!

It is the time of year when I would love a dollar for every time a student looks at me and tells me his uncompleted assignment is “on my desk at home.” This coming from a student who hasn’t picked up a pencil most of the year during class work time. I am now supposed to believe that said student was overcome with self-discipline when he arrived at home. I’m also supposed to believe that the student somehow ignored the siren song of video games and chose to work at his fictitious desk so he could complete his assignments. Just give me another dollar for every time I dug through a student’s binder, miraculously finding a missing assignment, only to hear, “Hmm, I wonder how that got in there?”  Sigh.

It is the time of year when teachers can collapse into despair (or violence) when the copy machine flashes “paper jam” again. It always happens when one is in a hurry and there is a writhing snake of students on their way to one’s classroom. Choices are made in the heat of the moment and some of them are not pretty. Usually, plan B is launched and the copier is left to scream its message of doom to the next teacher who is in frantic need of a few copies. More chocolate, please.

It is the time of year when developing a new seating chart takes the wisdom of Solomon. Bucky can’t sit next to Sissy because they will talk all the way through class. Sissy can’t sit next Lucy because they are “not getting along.” Bucky can’t be across the table from Juno because Juno has a crush on Bucky and they will be making googly eyes at each other. (This lasts until the next text message in middle school). Zippy has to sit at a table by himself due to “attention issues”.  Juno is passive aggressive so she can’t be placed near the gentle students or she will rein quiet terror in the lives of others. Hard decisions are made. Sometimes it is best to seat non-workers with non-workers so that at least one of them is forced to do something during the next lab. “Special” seats are set up for those who can’t play nice in the sandbox. And, dare I say it, sometimes it’s time for a choose-your-own-partner activity so that the sweet ones can enjoy productivity together and the not so sweet can self-combust on their own.

It is also the time of year when I notice that my “babies” are growing up. They come to me with a fairly low reading on the mature-o-meter. As the year progresses, many of them start sliding over a few notches on the maturity scale. I see a student who doesn’t like to read, grab the sports section of the newspaper I put on the counter behind his desk. He actually turns the page because he wants to find out about his favorite sports team and not just because he knows he is supposed to turn a page every once in awhile so I think he might be reading.

I also get to see a student come bounding into my room with a picture she took of a hawk that had landed in her backyard. She needed help identifying the bird and wanted to use one of my field guides. Other students gather around the photo and spontaneously start sharing their backyard bird stories. Sweet music to my ears.

Yes, dear March, you try my patience. But, I know that the prevailing winds of refreshment are on their way. And they are called Summer.

Dutch

If you have an e-mail address, chances are you've received a forward that starts with the phrase, “You know you are ………. if you……….”.  Rest easy. I am not going to start a new one called “You know you are Dutch if……”  Many of us are several generations away from our immigrant ancestors, yet we continue to maintain certain hidden rules. I am one hundred percent Dutch with the fair skin and blond hair to go with that pedigree. My ancestors were extremely conservative and placed a high priority on faith, family and frugality. Here are a few signs that you might be amongst my people. (You've been warned.)

Check a Dutch kitchen cupboard and you will most likely find a bottle of almond extract. We like all things almond. A favorite treat is called Bunket. It is a flaky pastry filled with an almond paste. It goes great with a strong cup of coffee and the crusty crumbs on your shirt taste just as good an hour later.

Check our stash of greeting cards. Chances are you won’t find any fancy dancy Hallmarky cards. We are not too keen on spending $5.99 for a card when something a little less pricey can carry the same sentiment. It’s more likely that we have a box of all occasion cards with flowery pictures and to-the-point greetings. Better yet, our box was purchased from the church’s ladies aid society, making it a win-win deal.

Most Dutch households have a stand alone freezer. Bigger bargains can be purchased if you have the freezer space. We also like to cook and bake. Without a freezer, there would be waste and that is just not acceptable. We procure our meat through locker plants so we don’t have to pay $30.00 or more for a steak dinner. Vegetables from our gardens nestle in by the protein in the freezer so we are prepared for a life without menus.

We borrow our books from the library at church or the downtown place. Spending money on something that is a one time read through is incongruent with our budget beliefs. There is always a chance that a new book will be a bust so being able to return it with no strings attached is a sweet thing. Borrowing books is also a way to spur one on to finish a book before the bell of the due date tolls.

Dutch folks are happiest when they've saved a penny or two. This includes the two for one meal deals, discount store bargains and closeout sales. Buying something for full price is tantamount to using good china for an everyday meal. It’s just not done. And, heaven forbid, we are forced into buying something at its full retail cost.That is a secret that goes to the grave with us.   

My people like to use stuff until it wears out…completely out. Most of us don’t need the latest, everyone-has-it item. Shoe polish, patches, sewing kits and duct tape fix most things. We don’t worry about what the neighbors think unless they think we might be rich.

The older I get, the more I know that it’s impossible to fight genetics. We may think that we are different from our grandparents but when it comes right down to it, we eat and drink the same almond pastries and cups of coffee as they did. My advice is to celebrate who you are and enjoy the crumbs on your shirt. 

Treasures

Recently, my husband came into the house from the garage and announced, “Well, this is it.” He was tenderly clutching a small cellophane package and had a look of somber resolution on his face. He then proceeded toward the kitchen table and settled in with his morning cup of coffee. When I asked him what the occasion was, he replied, “This is my last Hostess streusel cake and I’m going to eat it today.” Knowing how long it’s been since Hostess went out of business, I asked him about the expiration date on his treasured lump of sugary goodness. He gave me a puzzled look and said, “Streusel cakes never get old.” He’s probably right about that, given the list of ingredients and preservatives listed on the box. I decided to leave him alone so he could enjoy the moment in peace. Just a man and his streusel cake.

All this pomp and circumstance reminded me that I, too, have treasures that I cling to. But, unlike my husband, I often don’t enjoy them because they seem too precious to be used. For instance, I have a small (very small) cache of saffron in my cupboard. Saffron is a spice that comes from the dried stigmas of the crocus plant. Needless to say, it is an expensive seasoning. All that value has made me afraid to use it and it is probably way past its time of viability due to my hesitancy.

Another flavoring I have in my cupboard is a vial of 3 whole vanilla beans. They are not as expensive as saffron, but my Dutchness makes it difficult for me to purchase them very often. Because my crème brulee recipe cries out for vanilla, I respectfully sacrifice a bean for the punch of flavor it provides. I am never sorry I used the bean after I taste the final dessert, but you can be sure, I don’t take the use of the bean lightly.

One of the wedding gifts we received many years ago was a set of cups with matching serving plates. These, of course, seemed too fancy for everyday use so they stayed safely tucked away in a cupboard, awaiting just the right moment and just the right company for their service. Well, the right moment and the right company never seemed to arrive and I finally gave the set away so someone else could use them, rather than just the dust bunnies.  

Over the years, I have received other gifts such as fancy towels, pretty serving bowls and elegant stationery. Sad to say, most of them were not enjoyed to their fullest extent as I parsimoniously determined the best time for their utilization. The everyday always seemed to demand less finery and “just the right moment” never seemed to arrive often enough to really enjoy a little goodness.

At my age, it makes no sense to be stingy with the pleasantries of life. Come to think of it, miserliness is probably not the best policy at any age. So, my advice to you is to unleash the treasures chained up in your closets. Unlike streusel cakes, some of them might have an expiration date and it’s time to enjoy the moments.

Victory

I climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro. Not really. But that is how I feel every time I go into the ring with a new piece of technology and win a round. Most of my technological accomplishments would be nothing more than flipping a pancake for the average twelve year old. For me, any victory with a gidgy gadget is worth a celebratory moment.

It all started with the slow death of my printer. I should have suspected that I was in for a terminal experience when the only color it would print was a dirty pink. Yet, I continued to have hope. Maybe I had used the wrong color cartridge. Two expensive cartridges later, not the problem. Maybe I could just print in black and white and call it good. Every other page was spitting out in a grayish ink color, not going to work. Maybe I could use my husband’s fix-it method. Hit it a few times and let it rest. Working even less after that intervention. After months of unrequited love, it was time to say goodbye. I unplugged it and moved it to the what-am-I-going-to-do-with-this pile. Buying a new printer means new cables, cords, ink cartridges and instructions that are clear only to the techno wizards of the world.

Alas, I finally broke down one day and impulsively bought the first printer I saw in a store that is not known for its technology department. I should have heeded the warning signs that were written all over the experience. First, the box looked a bit shabby and had more tape holding it together than carton. Secondly, the contents looked like a re-packaging event had occurred. And finally, the fourth step in the set-up wizard involved inserting ink cartridges into an area that involved some exertion on my part. After turning the power on, an ominous message scrolled across the display screen: Cartridge jam, remove foam.

I’m not going to go into the sour details of what happened next. Let me just say that there was never any foam in the printer and I had my own re-packaging event with the beast.

Technology: 1    Me: 0

After recovering from that loss, I worked up the nerve to buy another printer. This time I went to a store with an official printer department. Maybe it was the smell of all that packaging, but I decided I should probably buy a router, too. The helpful young lad assured me that I could EASILY hook up a router as it was as simple as connecting it to ...... I was already four vocabulary words behind him, but I felt a surge of hopefulness and purchased the router and a new printer.

The router box was smallest so I made the decision to connect it first. The task involved crawling around behind my computer desk, trying to decipher the spaghetti plate of cords and cables, and making a mental note to dust someday in the future.

The EASY start-up wizard started spitting out instructions that were senseless to me. What is an Ethernet cable??? What gadget is my modem?? Where do I go to poke my eyes out??

After an hour of plugging any cable I could find into any port that would accept it, the impossible happened. A connection was made.

Technology: 0   Me: 1

My office looks like a war zone, but the ugly beast of failure has been tamed. Well, at least for now. I still have a printer that needs to meet me at O.K. corral.

Wish me luck!

January

January is the month with a punch in the upper Midwest. I salute the cold weather warriors whose professions require gearing up each day with long underwear, Carhartt coveralls and heavy duty boots. I confess that my job demands only the usual amount of outer clothing for survival so I am able to watch the world of wintery weather through my living room window and the windshield of my car. Nevertheless, January inspires a sense of camaraderie as we take the weather hand that we are dealt and make the best of it.

January can rage with tempestuous winds and temperatures that cause the mercury to plummet in a matter of minutes. The cold, dry air can burn unprotected skin and damage one’s extremities. Sometimes the snow comes in by the bucket loads. Other times it fluffs its way down with a mere dusting.  January can also sneak in a few days of balmy (30’s) temps that kiss the ground with a hint of spring. And as quickly as a warm day arrives, so does the return of another Arctic blast reminding us to keep our winter coats zipped up and our gloves handy.

There are unmistakable sounds to January, as well. When the weather gets really cold, the car doors creak with an almost earsplitting slice into the air. The sound of ice scrapers being used on windshields indicates the type of precipitation we’ve received. If the scraper is making fluffy, sluffy sounds, we’ve received a dry, pillowy kind of snow. A scritchy, scratchy sound indicates that we've had a wet snow/rain combination that has created an ice pond on the glass. If it’s the sound of the windshield wipers only, we’ve had just a snow dusting and we will be on our way with barely a pause.

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Naked trees and shrubbery are also a part of the landscape in January. Bird nests are clearly visible and longing for the return of their former homeowners. A few lone ravens perch on the branches of the barren monuments as they claim exclusive rights to their territory. The snow is gathered on the branches and occasionally fluffs off, creating a snow globe effect when the wind breezes its way through.

January requires planning ahead and always having a Plan B. Coats and gloves must be donned and cars need to be started to warm up. Winter survival kits need to be packed into the vehicle even if the departure day is sunny and bright. Cell phones need to be fully charged. Weather forecasts and alerts are carefully monitored. School kids expectantly watch the television screen for an announcement of their favorite holiday, the snow day. Driveways need to be shoveled and shoveled again after the snow plow has gone by.

Probably the best part of January is that it is approximately 300 days away from the next holiday hype season. We can all breathe a sigh of relief and throw out the last of the cheese balls and cookie trays. Households fall back into the rhythm of daily living. Some folks begin searching for a tropical getaway vacation package deal. Others, like me, are content to make a pot of soup, brew some tea and enjoy the sights and sounds of January.

Numbers

A recent trend in many newspapers and magazines is a section called “by the numbers.” I’m not sure why that particular feature is used so frequently. Perhaps it is our need to quantify information and follow trends. I think it might be because we like to read short bytes of information rather than analyze lengthy expository writing. Whatever the case may be, I’m going to jump on the integers band wagon and share my numbers from the year 2012. For my mathy friends, please note that I am rounding generously and most of my data will probably not hold up under court investigation.

720—pots of coffee were made by my hands this past year. My early morning habit prompts me to make coffee wherever I go…home, school, church, hotel rooms and homes in need of a pot of coffee. No lattes, frappes or frou frou drinks. Just keep it black and hot.

290—crossword puzzles. There is nothing more relaxing than a sharp pencil, a crossword puzzle and a good dictionary. I like the semi-simple ones that take a moderate amount of thinking. I’m in the zone for completion, not frustration.

240—students. Over a year’s time, I am required to learn the names, temperaments, and skill levels of a diverse population. No small task for this aging brain. Current monikers make it even more daunting with their creative spellings.  Let’s just say I miss Bob and Nancy.

210—games of Spider Solitaire. No excuse for that statistic. Sometimes one needs a mindless diversion that demands nothing more than the click of a mouse. I especially love the fireworks at the end of the game when I win.

75—workout hours with Leslie Sansone and Denise Austin DVDs. That translates to 270,000 seconds of mind numbing monotony. I’m ashamed to say that I mock both of them throughout my workouts. I do not understand their belief that workouts are fast and fun. Reading a book makes time fly for me, not leg squats with a purple stretchy band.

46—Prairie Home Companion shows. My happy place is from 5:00-7:00 on Saturday evening with Mr. Keillor and his music, stories and life at Lake Wobegon. I’m not sure how many more years Garrison has in him so I cherish each season as though it may be his last.

12—cheesecakes were made last year. My husband would say that that is not nearly enough. My waistline would disagree.

1—wish for you.   Happy New Year and God's blessings to you!