Basil vs. Sage

Fall has been lifting its chilly fingers and scratching at our doors lately. For some, a sigh of relief is audibly present as the windows are flung open and cool breezes squeegee out summer's stale, humid air. For others, a cloud of mourning settles in as flip flops are filed away and pool gates are padlocked. My garden is echoing similar sentiments. When evening temperatures dip below 50 degrees, the basil plants sport new coats of curled leaves and brown spots, as if to say their work on earth is done. No more fresh pesto and  flavor boosting. On the other hand, the sage plants flaunt their silvery gray leaves in a bring-it-on manner. It will take more than a little frost to stop their life juices from flowing.

Our fair city is also in the midst of differing responses to seasons. For the past several years our school board has elected to begin school during peak summer days, two weeks before Labor Day. Many reasons have been given as to the validity of such a schedule, the primary one being that high school students will fare better in their semester tests if they finish them before Christmas break.

Recently, a group of school district parents challenged such logic and went to the school board, requesting an after Labor Day starting time for school. Not only was it denied, the board approved calendars for the next three years, all with start times in mid-August. Not to be deterred, the post-Labor Day folks gathered enough citizen signatures to push the issue forward to a public vote. Their premise is that precious summer days of swimming, vacationing and general outdoor activities are cut short by the early start date. Regardless of which calendar is chosen, the required number of school days will be met and compliance will be made with the state's regulations.

The real question is, "Are you basil or sage?"

If you are basil, you cannot bear to give up one summer day. Your leaves will curl in protest when the sun's heat is taken away. Cool spring days are a waste of time to you and there is little value in time spent indoors. Family time is about backyard barbecues, trips to the lake cabin and traveling with sports teams.

If you are sage, you welcome the shoulder days of spring and fall. You enjoy cool weather activities and recognize that vacationing can happen at any time of the year. You appreciate time spent together, inside or outside. Movies, popcorn, good books and birdwatching are not determined by a calendar date.

As a teacher in the school district, I  report to active duty whenever the calendar dictates. I am less worried about the loss of warm, cool, or temperate days than I am about the education of children. The taxpayers of our city will need to determine whether they believe one month is better than another for learning. My only observation is that students are just as anxious to see their friends in August as they are in September. They are far less joyous about gathering together after Memorial Day.

August or September, May or June. The final votes will determine how our garden will grow.

10 Things Not To Say To A Teacher

There are no dull moments in the world of classrooms, lunchrooms and playgrounds. Each new school year begins with the hope of great things to come. Questioning, discussing, writing, reading and computing bring about earnest academic progress.

Each year also brings on a few questions and statements that many teachers would rather not hear from their students. Here are a few.

1) "What time is this class over?" Not only is this question asked at the end of class but it is also asked as the students are arriving. Social skill number one: please don't ask about the end time of a class, no matter how much you hate learning about arthropods.

2) "I left my homework at home." This is the primary excuse from students who haven't picked up a pencil in my classroom since the beginning of the year. Logic defies believing such a response. I usually dig right into their binders and magically find the unfinished pieces of business. Busted.

3) "I can't get my locker open." This statement most often comes from incoming sixth graders. There is definitely a learning curve in the 20 to the right, 3 to the left and 7 to the right process. I have never been able to open a locker so the kids are on their own with this one. Time for a new smartphone app.

4) "I threw up all night but I think I'm feeling a little better." It is at this point that I take two steps backwards. There is usually a residual green glow still evident on their faces and I would prefer not to be in their target range.

5) "Do we have a test today?" This is usually asked after a week of review, reminders, study guides and website postings. I'm always baffled how such a detail can be missed until the day of the test. Fortunately, there are usually a few students who are only too happy to point out the error of the confused student's ways.

6) "I like your toes." A colleague of mine was the recipient of this response a couple weeks ago. It is a baffling statement and probably best left unanalyzed.

7) "Is your hair turning gray?" It takes a great deal of self control not to share my theory of where I think the gray is coming from. Fortunately, most students aren't interested in the why of my hair color. They just enjoy making observations.

8) "I'm going to be gone for two weeks and need all my homework by the end of the day." Sometimes I'm not even sure what I will be able to cover in class tomorrow, much less two weeks in advance. I appreciate the student's concern but I would prefer that extended vacations happen in the summer.

9) "Do you remember me?" Former students often ask this question, forgetting that they might look a little different from their middle school years (a fact most are grateful for). Let it be said that I want to remember the names and faces of all my students but my brain is packed with student files. Please introduce yourself so we can skip the name game and catch up on what's new.

10) "I don't have a pencil." I understand the occasional absentmindedness that results in a lost writing utensil, but when the same student asks every teacher, every day, I want to poke my eye out with a pencil. There is no way to win this war so I will continue to buy golf pencils by the gross.

Yes, another year of school is in full swing and a whole new crop of students are making their way through the teacher maze. We'll get along just fine, until you ask me why I have so many wrinkles.

Fizzies

One of the joys of old age is being able to draw upon a vast number of life memories, accurate or otherwise. I am quite sure most of my recollections fall into the otherwise category but joy number two of old age is that most folks aren't listening so it doesn't matter if my memories are a bit discombobulated.

A recent discussion with a few of my younger friends revolved around favorite drinks when we were growing up. Elixers such Orange Crush, Dr. Pepper and Root Beer popped up as sweet memories. Not to be outdone I offered up one of my favorite treats, Fizzies. Silence. More silence. It was evident that I had mined too far back in my memory bank for this crowd. Of course, I took it upon myself to let them know what they had missed in the world of enhanced liquids. After my explanation, most of them said they would stick with Fresca.

My memory of Fizzies is truly more about the circumstances than the drink itself. One highlight of my life as a kid on the farm was lunch time (note: lunch was the mini-meal between the noon meal, dinner, and the evening meal, supper). On many occasions my grandfather would join us at the table and we all clamored for his attention. One fun activity we shared with him was selecting our favorite Fizzie drink and ceremoniously preparing it. A Fizzie was a quarter-sized surgary tablet that could be dropped into a glass of cold water and it would fizz its way into a sweet drink. We loved watching the bubbles form around the tablets and we always hoped our tablet would be the fastest to dissolve so we could be the first one to taste our drink. Grape, cherry cola and root beer were a few of the flavor choices and my grandfather loved joining us in each Fizzie moment.

Fizzies disappeared in the 60's due to a banned ingredient in the product. As kids, we found this perplexing. After all, we were the generation of no seat belts, no car seats, no helmets and lard. It seemed cruel to lose our effervescent friend, but Kool-Aid helped us recover from our loss.

The good news is that Fizzies are making a comeback. The CEO of a company in Minnesota said he couldn't bear to live in a world without Fizzies so he bought the trademark and is introducing eight fizzilicious cool flavors (as well as one hot cocoa flavor) to a new generation of wide-eyed kids. He wisely added Vitamin C to the mix so there is a possibility the government will see fit to leave the little tablets alone this time.

I haven't tasted the new Fizzies but there is a possibility they won't meet my memory standards. Not because they aren't as good, but because I won't be sitting around a table at lunch time with my raucous siblings and my grinning grandfather, watching little colored disks froth away in frosty glasses.

Enjoy a sip of your favorite memory this week and if you are feeling bold, share it with all of us. I won't judge.

Lady With A Cake

About a week ago I was driving across town, doggedly ticking off my internal to-do list and feeling a bit frazzled. I came upon a church and immediately had to slow down. It was evident from the activity on the street that an event was taking place. Cars were queuing up in search of parking spots. Suits and dresses were the chosen attire. I wondered if the event was a wedding until I saw an elderly lady pull herself out of her car and start the block hike to the church. She was clutching a 9x13 cake pan with the skill and determination of one who knows how to take care of business. I know of only one morning weekday event at churches that requires donated cakes and that is a funeral.

As I nudged my way through the slowing traffic I watched the lady continue her journey toward the door. I was struck by her simple act of kindness. A sweet moment of sharing that quietly filled a need. She did not appear to be someone who is able to write out seven figure checks to charity. I don't think she has statues of herself placed strategically on the grounds, commemorating her act of giving. I doubt her name is written on buildings or public venues. And yet, when a family is in mourning and needs a cake, she says, "Yes."  Regardless of how busy she might be or how much her arthritis might be flaring up or whether she is out of eggs, she steps up to the task at hand. She makes sure that a cake is ready to go and delivered to the church on time. An ordinary act with extraordinary impact.

I am on the back to school countdown and in just a few short days I will be in front of a classroom again. The easy part is getting caught up in all the minutia of being ready. All the school supplies, the lesson plans, the room posters, the meetings, the class lists, the frenzy. The difficult part is focusing on what is really important. I will be greeted by a new group of faces who will need a sound education. They will need a safe place to be. They will need guidance. They will need positive relationships. They will need someone to hear their voices.

Experience tells me that there will be days when I will become weary from waves of restless children and mountains of paperwork. I will feel beat down by test scores and apathy. I will worry about the troubled lives of children.

But, through it all, I really only want one thing.

I want to be like the lady with the cake.

Quiz

I am not sure when the first self-quiz was published but I do remember seeing them many years ago in publications such as Ladies Home Journal and Woman's Day. Now there are a bazillion quizzes available on line. You can find out which character you are in the Harry Potter movies or whether you are from Tibet or if you are a guinea pig lover. At one time I found the quizzes entertaining and even a bit enlightening. Now, at my age, I'm less likely to take the time to complete one because I find myself arguing with the results. Old dogs don't really like new tricks.

In the spirit of trendiness, I thought it would be fun to share my version of a self quiz. It asks the question, "What kind of herb are you?" (Full disclaimer--it is not a scientific quiz. Please know that I will like you even if you find out you are wormwood.)

1. First thing in the morning I like to:
    a. greet the day with a bracing cup of black coffee
    b. roll over under the covers and hope it's the weekend
    c. fix myself a hearty bowl of oatmeal

2. My idea of a perfect day is:
    a. cool weather and a good book
    b. hot and sunny with lots of beach time
    c. not fussy--I just want to get my work done

3. My favorite food is:
    a. potato
    b. pizza
    c. pork chops

4. My favorite book genre is:
    a. mystery
    b. fantasy
    c. non-fiction

5. My favorite flower is:
    a. Iris
    b. Marigold
    c. Zinnia

6. My favorite movie genre is:
    a. quirky, sleeper movies
    b. blockbuster action movies
    c. classics

7. I expect my friends to be:
    a. punctual
    b. fun
    c. reliable

8. I am annoyed by:
    a. crowds
    b. wimps
    c. airheads

9. I am afraid of:
   a. heights
   b. blizzards
   c. not much

10. I would never:
    a. be late to a party
    b. skip a party
    c. plan a party



Results:
If you selected mostly "a" you are:
Chives--you like to arrive early with your beautiful purple flowers. You have a delicate flavor and pair nicely with potatoes. You can get lost in big pots of soup but chefs crave your dash of color and flavor. You like the weather cool and you can be a tenacious garden dweller.

If you selected mostly "b" you are:
Basil--you know how to pack a punch when the weather gets warm. Your distinct flavor pairs nicely with tomatoes and garlic. You like to show off your fragrant flowers while basking in the sun. Cold weather blackens your mood and your favorite hangout is pesto.

If you selected mostly "c" you are:
Sage--you are a Steady Eddie, bravely thriving in the heat of summer and after the first frost of fall. Your no nonsense foliage pairs well with garlic and pork. You are comfortable in your own leaves and do not need to be the star of the meal.

Whether you are basil, sage or chives, celebrate your flavor!

Staff of Life

Bread. It has many names. Roll, bun, bagel, baguette, pita, croissant, naan, brioche, biscuit, toast. focaccia (wikipedia lists over 100 different names). This yeasty, air bubbled, soft and pliable substance is found in almost every culture as a staple of living. We avoid trips to the grocery store until we run out of bread. We need it for breakfast so we have a depository for jam. Lunch without bread means no sandwiches. And dinner is a bit lackluster without a breadbasket.

One of my favorite memories as a child is coming home from school and smelling the heady fragrance of freshly baked bread. Wonder bread hadn't been invented yet so my mother had no choice but to crank out many loaves a week. She was a phenomenal baker and we were hungry little monsters so we made a good team. Our favorite way of eating the deliciously warm and soft bread was spreading it with butter (the real stuff) and heaps of crumbly brown sugar. The feeling in your mouth of slightly crunchy sugar, smooth butter and pillowy bread created a snack unsurpassed by the finest cuisine.

If done properly, bread is the gift that keeps on giving from beginning to end. Dry little yeast beads spring to life when warm water and a pinch of sugar are offered their way. The bubbly mass emits a fragrance of hope for good things to come. Our individual preferences are made possible by mixing in different grains, fruits, nuts, sugars, toppings and flavorings. Watching a shapeless glob of dough rise and poof its way to double in size is a wonder to observe. The shaping of the dough into a final product is limited only by one's creativity. It can be loafed, rolled, braided, stretched, flattened and twisted. After another round of warmth and time, our masterpiece is ready to bake. There is not a text message or Facebook post that could possibly say love like bread baking in the oven. The olfactory sensation is truly unrivaled.

This summer I am practicing my bread baking skills (lots of practice needed). I have had a few hits and some epic fails. Either way, I am learning much from the loaf of bread. First, bread baking is all about patience. A good loaf does not fall under the heading of 10 minute meals. A worthy slice of bread has to be nurtured into its full glory through time and tender loving care. Kneading, proofing, and baking are not to be rushed. Secondly, bread is a creative process. The end result is a combination of form and function. A loaf is good for sandwiches. Buns are just right for burgers. Rolled dough makes a great cinnamon roll treat. And flatbreads are good palettes for savory toppings. Third, bread is brimming with potential. Yeast, sugar, water and flour are lowly, unpretentious ingredients. Combine them, however, and watch the wonder unfold. Power is given to the plain.

Finally, bread is better when it is shared. My favorite bread recipe so far is a whole wheat roll that I've made successfully two times in a row (a record). When my husband sat down for dinner, he took a roll and gently broke it open. I nudged the butter toward him, assuming he was going to butter the warm bread. Instead he just held the roll up to his nose and took in a slow, deep breath. The bread had spoken without a word being uttered, the best lesson of all.

Tools

My husband is a carpenter and his mantra is, "You are only as good as the tools you use." One look into our garage and I am assured that he is a really great carpenter. I have no idea what all that hardware is called but I know that he is often the envy of the DIY crowd. He also likes to remind me that I should not be using dull knives and Tupperware from 1972 (maybe I like harvest gold). I agree with him on most counts but I often cringe at the cost of the really high end kitchen tools. I don't cook for a living so it is difficult to justify such expenditures on a regular basis.

I confess that I have a few non-negotiable tools in my kitchen, no what matter the cost. One of the biggies is a Kitchen Aid mixer. My family doesn't need a DNA test to determine whether we are related. Just check our kitchens and if there is a Kitchen Aid mixer on the counter, there is a good chance that we share the same genetics. I actually wore out my first mixer, after replacing the motor once in an attempt to add more life to my friend. I now have an upgraded machine, sans the harvest gold color. It is a faithful workhorse for any mixing project.

My microplane also holds a special place in my kitchen. I resisted its purchase due to owning a couple of perfectly good graters. My sister gave me one for a gift and now I'm hooked. I use it for ginger, citrus zest, garlic, nutmeg, whatever needs a fine touch. My husband wholeheartedly approves the status of this one as it looks like something he carries around in his truck.

I have limited counter space so I don't make countertop appliance purchases without some serious thought. I hesitantly bought a small food processor a few years ago, fully believing I would regret it within a month. It has become one of my favorite go-to timesavers. It takes the knuckle shaving out of any grating job and whirs up bread crumbs in seconds. It is worth the prime real estate it inhabits.

A tomato slicer knife came into my life unintentionally. It was a gift from one of my husband's customers. It has become the one knife that I will dig in the garbage for if it is misplaced (yes, I have done that and found it buried under some vegetable peelings). It goes far beyond tomatoes with its clean slicing of fruits, veggies, bread, baked goods, whatever. And its sharp tip makes it a good stabber. I have since ordered two more so I'm prepared the next time I accidentally toss one out.

I'm sure most carpenters and cooks will admit that there is always one more tool that would make life easier. For me, I think it might be time for a new Dutch oven. Mine was a wedding gift (circa 1976) and despite its well constructed harvest gold splendor, I am feeling the need for an update. My secret desire is a Le Creuset, any color. One look at the price, however, and I can easily convince myself that my chicken soup loves harvest gold as much as I do.