This is a short story about neighbors and the sharing of a new recipe. I was in Wisconsin for Christmas with my family. My mother lives in the neighborhood I grew up, some of the neighbors are the same as when I lived there many years ago. Cindy lives next door to my mother. She is a sweet woman who is a dear friend. She was especially a friend to my Grandmother who died in November. I am sure Cindy misses her greatly. I babysat her two children when we were all young and she catches up on me when I visit and I catch up on her and her family.
Cindy came over one day to chat. With her she brought a plate of freshly baked cookies. Selections of a few different types of cookies to pick from were displayed nicely on a Christmas plate. She started telling us about the different types she baked up that morning. One type she was really interested in having us taste was the Elvis cookies. My mom grabbed one and broke it into three parts. The cookie was broken evenly one third of a cookie piece for her, one for my sister-in-law Irina and one third for me to eat. We all popped our little part of the cookie into our mouths. At first it tasted pretty good, peanut butter cookie tasting, with some banana to give it nice moisture. Then as you chewed a bit you noticed something really chewy in there. Bits of something smoky tasting started to show up as you chewed. Chew, scrunch eyebrows trying to figure it out. As Cindy can see we are all very confused she started to explain.
It seems that Elvis’ favorite sandwich was peanut butter, bananas and bacon. No, that wasn’t a typo, I did say bacon. These cookies were Elvis cookies, designed in his honor. Peanut butter, bananas and diced up pieces of bacon. I tell you we all wanted to spit so fast you can’t imagine. We did all manage to swallow the 1/3 of cookie and pass on any future ones. There is something fundamentally wrong with the idea of a cookie a wonderful peanut butter one especially that has bacon added to it.
So the lesson of the story is ask your neighbors (even your very sweet ones) what they are feeding you BEFORE you put it in your mouth. We all tried to get others to taste those cookies but we had no more takers. The word of the bacon peanut butter cookies spread.
For your pleasure:
ELVIS COOKIES
• 1 cup smooth peanut butter (because you wouldn’t want to confuse the bacon lumps and nuts!)
• ½ cup packed light brown sugar
• ½ cup granulated sugar
• 1 large egg, lightly beaten
• ¼ cup all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• ½ cup crumbled cooked (very crisp) bacon (about 6 strips)
• ½ cup diced firm banana
Heat the oven to 350.
In a large bowl, combine the peanut butter and two sugars. Beat until well combined. Beat in the egg until just combined. Set aside.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour and baking soda. With the mixer on low, add flour and soda to peanut butter mixture, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed.
Gently mix in the bacon and bananas, trying not to mash the bananas.
Using slightly wet hands, roll rounded teaspoons of dough into balls and place on the prepared baking sheets, leaving about 1 inch. Dip the tines of a fork into water, then flatten the cookies until they are about 1 ½ inches around.
Bake on the middle rack for 11 minutes. Cool cookies on the baking sheet for 2 minutes, then remove with a spatula to racks to cool completely. Makes 30 cookies.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
Changed the names to protect the innocent
I am writing about my experience visiting the former Soviet country of XXXXXX. I went there in March 2006 for my brother’s wedding. He married a woman from the capital city of AAAAAA. Before I begin, I want to say that the people of XXXXXX were warm, friendly and I truly enjoyed my time with the civilians. My sister-in-law’s family and friends are generous wonderful people. I also want to say that I am a stay at home mother of 3, my husband is an officer in the United States Army and I have lived in Germany for 6 of the 22 years he has been active duty. The only capacity I have ever worked for the US government was as a substitute teacher.
I arrived in XXXXXX with the appropriate VISA requirements, passport and all papers in order. I was told that there was a requirement that in three business days I would have to register at an office in the city as a foreign visitor. I arrived on Thursday, that deadline would be Monday from my calculations.
It became very obvious quickly that we were being watched/monitored. We stayed in an apartment and it was patrolled at least hourly. I could see police and military walking past the building 24 hours a day carrying a weapon. Because of jetlag and wedding I was awake at all different hours to personally see this myself.
On Monday my Mother and I were taken to the government office where we were to sign in as stated when we arrived in the country Thursday. When we arrived there with my sister-in-law’s brother things got very strange. He turned in our paperwork and we sat there for a very long time. My sister-in-law’s family has done this process many times as they have family and friends that come from the Ukraine and other countries to visit. This time was different. There were a few people working in the office and soon our paperwork was being passed back and forth, phone calls were being made etc. I don’t speak Russian which is what they were speaking so I have no idea what exactly was being said but the facial expressions were not good.
My mother and I sat getting more and more nervous at time went on. Vadik (sister-in-law’s 19 yr old brother) was extremely nervous and upset. His face was getting paler by the second. Soon we were told that because we had not come in within 72 hours we would have to go to court and see a judge. It suddenly became not 3 working days but literally 72 hours from the time we arrived. To see the judge we would need an appointment with the court and a lawyer to fill out the paperwork. Our flight to leave the country was Tuesday morning. This all had to be done extremely quickly in order for us to make our flight out of the country.
The people working in the office gave Vadik a phone number of a lawyer. He called the lawyer and we were to meet him outside of the courthouse in a few hours. We walked to the courthouse at the appropriate time and met him. We went inside, he gathered the correct paperwork and with Vadik translating we filled out the paperwork. We were told to beg forgiveness, to explain we were busy with the wedding etc. While sitting waiting for the lawyer to fill out paperwork I showed Vadik pictures in my wallet of my family. One my husband and myself he asked me to quickly put away as my husband was in his military uniform. He was afraid if they didn’t know before that if someone saw that it would make matters worse.
Finally it became time for us to meet with the judge. When we entered the room my sister-in-law’s mother was there, Vadik, my mother a secretary, the judge and I. The judge looked over the paperwork and instantly turned to me. No one else in the room mattered at all. The judge then questioned me over and over why I hadn’t signed in, why I was in the country, what I did in the United States…. On and on he asked me things. He did this speaking Russian and Vadik translated for us. I kept telling him over and over I was in XXXXXX for the wedding of my brother, that I didn’t sign in because I was told it was 3 working days, I was a stay at home mom in the United States. He very obviously didn’t believe me at all. He was visibly angry that I wasn’t telling him the things he wanted to hear. He had no proof that I was anything other than what I said I was so eventually we were made to pay a big fine for our not following the rules and we were released. But we were still being watched very closely.
Monday night very late we got a call that our flight had been cancelled or delayed. We made plans then to leave on a flight that was leaving XXXXXX on Wednesday. We arrived at the airport Wednesday and prepared to leave. The check-in process was a complete mess. I was forced to pay a huge fee for each bag I carried. I was also questioned by the security quite extensively while my mother was waved through again.
We were escorted onto the plane by 3 flight attendants. We were put in the very front of the plane behind the pilot and the 3 attendants sat around us and a curtain was pulled between us and the other passengers on the plane.
Why I was so obviously followed and harassed by the authorities in XXXXXX I really don’t know. My only guess is because I live in Virginia my passport was issued by the state dept. I think possibly because of this they thought I worked for the state dept. in some capacity. The judge very certainly thought I held some sort of government position and I was lying to him about it.
My reason for writing this for Alla is to put a face on the paranoia of the former Soviet countries. If a stay at home mother living in Virginia visiting one of these countries is monitored, taken to court, flights changed, fees charged etc. I only can guess what a citizen of that country would go through if he or she had true knowledge of information that the government deemed critical or dangerous. XXXXXX is a poor country with little resources; YYYYYY is the right hand to Russia. I think the paranoia would be exponentially worse.
I arrived in XXXXXX with the appropriate VISA requirements, passport and all papers in order. I was told that there was a requirement that in three business days I would have to register at an office in the city as a foreign visitor. I arrived on Thursday, that deadline would be Monday from my calculations.
It became very obvious quickly that we were being watched/monitored. We stayed in an apartment and it was patrolled at least hourly. I could see police and military walking past the building 24 hours a day carrying a weapon. Because of jetlag and wedding I was awake at all different hours to personally see this myself.
On Monday my Mother and I were taken to the government office where we were to sign in as stated when we arrived in the country Thursday. When we arrived there with my sister-in-law’s brother things got very strange. He turned in our paperwork and we sat there for a very long time. My sister-in-law’s family has done this process many times as they have family and friends that come from the Ukraine and other countries to visit. This time was different. There were a few people working in the office and soon our paperwork was being passed back and forth, phone calls were being made etc. I don’t speak Russian which is what they were speaking so I have no idea what exactly was being said but the facial expressions were not good.
My mother and I sat getting more and more nervous at time went on. Vadik (sister-in-law’s 19 yr old brother) was extremely nervous and upset. His face was getting paler by the second. Soon we were told that because we had not come in within 72 hours we would have to go to court and see a judge. It suddenly became not 3 working days but literally 72 hours from the time we arrived. To see the judge we would need an appointment with the court and a lawyer to fill out the paperwork. Our flight to leave the country was Tuesday morning. This all had to be done extremely quickly in order for us to make our flight out of the country.
The people working in the office gave Vadik a phone number of a lawyer. He called the lawyer and we were to meet him outside of the courthouse in a few hours. We walked to the courthouse at the appropriate time and met him. We went inside, he gathered the correct paperwork and with Vadik translating we filled out the paperwork. We were told to beg forgiveness, to explain we were busy with the wedding etc. While sitting waiting for the lawyer to fill out paperwork I showed Vadik pictures in my wallet of my family. One my husband and myself he asked me to quickly put away as my husband was in his military uniform. He was afraid if they didn’t know before that if someone saw that it would make matters worse.
Finally it became time for us to meet with the judge. When we entered the room my sister-in-law’s mother was there, Vadik, my mother a secretary, the judge and I. The judge looked over the paperwork and instantly turned to me. No one else in the room mattered at all. The judge then questioned me over and over why I hadn’t signed in, why I was in the country, what I did in the United States…. On and on he asked me things. He did this speaking Russian and Vadik translated for us. I kept telling him over and over I was in XXXXXX for the wedding of my brother, that I didn’t sign in because I was told it was 3 working days, I was a stay at home mom in the United States. He very obviously didn’t believe me at all. He was visibly angry that I wasn’t telling him the things he wanted to hear. He had no proof that I was anything other than what I said I was so eventually we were made to pay a big fine for our not following the rules and we were released. But we were still being watched very closely.
Monday night very late we got a call that our flight had been cancelled or delayed. We made plans then to leave on a flight that was leaving XXXXXX on Wednesday. We arrived at the airport Wednesday and prepared to leave. The check-in process was a complete mess. I was forced to pay a huge fee for each bag I carried. I was also questioned by the security quite extensively while my mother was waved through again.
We were escorted onto the plane by 3 flight attendants. We were put in the very front of the plane behind the pilot and the 3 attendants sat around us and a curtain was pulled between us and the other passengers on the plane.
Why I was so obviously followed and harassed by the authorities in XXXXXX I really don’t know. My only guess is because I live in Virginia my passport was issued by the state dept. I think possibly because of this they thought I worked for the state dept. in some capacity. The judge very certainly thought I held some sort of government position and I was lying to him about it.
My reason for writing this for Alla is to put a face on the paranoia of the former Soviet countries. If a stay at home mother living in Virginia visiting one of these countries is monitored, taken to court, flights changed, fees charged etc. I only can guess what a citizen of that country would go through if he or she had true knowledge of information that the government deemed critical or dangerous. XXXXXX is a poor country with little resources; YYYYYY is the right hand to Russia. I think the paranoia would be exponentially worse.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
It's Sorta like the Flu
It is sort of like having the flu, you never get better at it. My husband James has been in the Army for 22 years, I have been along for the entire ride. He is currently deployed to Afghanistan. He left for training the end of July 2008, arrived in Afghanistan in November. That means he will hopefully be home next year in November. I love to talk to people but when they hear that my husband is deployed they usually say something like "well, you are probably used to it by now". For years I just nodded and moved on, but it hurt. My heart never feels used to my husband being gone in harm's way. I just didn't know how to explain it to people.
We survived Thanksgiving this year. It was the three children and me. My knee has been painful for sometime because of a cyst that needed surgery. So for Thanksgiving all the kids and I worked together to make a pretty amazing meal. We said our thanks, we were grateful that we four could be together and that Jim was able to email that day so we knew he was alive and safe at least for that day.
I scheduled the knee surgery for the day after my daughter's last exam. I needed an adult to take me to the hospital and back. With Jim gone I had no one who could do that for me. I have a hard time asking for help. It just always feels like I should be helping others and asking for help for myself is difficult. I am working on that character fault. So, December 12 I had knee surgery. It was really hard not to have Jim there. I was scared and could have really used his support, humor and kick butt attitude to get me there. I had to do that myself, I had to assure the kids that I would be ok and that everything would be fine. I wasn't sure myself but I had to make them believe it. I am sure I was grumpy and not the best mom. That makes me embarrassed, that my fears and sadness rubs off on them.
I had surgery, all went well and I came home that afternoon. Jim tried to call me that evening. I was able to tell him that the surgery was a success and that all was well. The phone line went down in Afghanistan so we were not able to really talk. It was nice to hear his voice, like a little hug from across the world.
The next few days are a painful blur that was only made better because of my angel of mercy (my daughter). She got up every four hours and gave me pain medicine, helped me get up when needed and fed me when I was hungry. I had two friends who came and sat with me. The real kind of friends that ask you and don't take no for an answer. They ignored my "I will be fine" comments and came anyway.
The children and I had planned to drive from Northern Virginia to Wisconsin to spend Christmas with family. Jim and I met in high school working at a one screen movie theater in my hometown. My mom still lives there for now. Going to Wisconsin without Jim is always a little painful, fun, love filled, but sad too because he isn't there to remember the past with me. We left early in the morning and drove straight through. I couldn't drive so the two older children drove. I sat painfully, very painfully with my leg propped up on the dash for 15 hours.
Driving into my mom's driveway was so wonderful. The Christmas tree was visible in the front window, the snow piled high in the front yard. I extricated my unbending leg from the dash of the car and with help, made it into the house. I was given food, pain pills, water to drink, a bag of frozen peas for my knee and a big fat warm blanket. It was so nice to have my mom taking care of me like when I was little. I slept in the recliner that night, waking to take more pain pills as needed. That trip wasn't easy at all. Not one I would suggest for anyone eight days out of knee surgery.
I hadn't heard from Jim in a few days. I was getting worried but know that no news is usually good news, but I still worry. Each time I see a new email from him I know he was ok up until the minute he wrote that email and that gives me a little jump forward to the day when he will be home. Tiny little baby steps of him safe, bit by bit he will be ok and then come home. It turns out that there was an underground earthquake somewhere that disrupted the Internet service. Who would think that an underground earthquake somewhere on the globe could cause me to hold my breath for days on end?
I am in Wisconsin, resting my leg mostly, my children are happy and entertained. It was a good thing to come. It keeps their minds off their Dad not being here for Christmas. Jonathon just left for a night of movies at my brother's house. Jeffrey is showing my other brother how to play a video game on the computer. Jennifer is working on a gingerbread house. I always make sure to tell them when I have heard from their dad and when I haven't. I fill them in on the news he tells me which is little. Today, James had a story about being in a meeting and a little mouse running up and down the curtains. Then, it suddenly jumped off and onto the table running off with a stolen nut. Jeffrey thought that was pretty funny. We couldn't figure out how he didn't laugh really hard and disrupt the meeting. Stories like that make it seem human, safe and yet real.
The children and I are working hard to make the best of a bad situation. We want more than anything that James were here. Since we can't have that, we want him safe and we want to have people around us who love us. We will spend Christmas Eve with my family and Christmas day the children and I will go to James' parents home to spend the day with them. s it ok? Are we ok? Are we used to it? The answers are, No, it isn't ok!, We are ok, and Heck no! We are not used to it! When you get the flu the second, third or fourth time is it ok? Are you going to be ok? Are you used to it? You are not ok, you know you will eventually be ok again but in no way are you used to it just because you had to endure it before.
We survived Thanksgiving this year. It was the three children and me. My knee has been painful for sometime because of a cyst that needed surgery. So for Thanksgiving all the kids and I worked together to make a pretty amazing meal. We said our thanks, we were grateful that we four could be together and that Jim was able to email that day so we knew he was alive and safe at least for that day.
I scheduled the knee surgery for the day after my daughter's last exam. I needed an adult to take me to the hospital and back. With Jim gone I had no one who could do that for me. I have a hard time asking for help. It just always feels like I should be helping others and asking for help for myself is difficult. I am working on that character fault. So, December 12 I had knee surgery. It was really hard not to have Jim there. I was scared and could have really used his support, humor and kick butt attitude to get me there. I had to do that myself, I had to assure the kids that I would be ok and that everything would be fine. I wasn't sure myself but I had to make them believe it. I am sure I was grumpy and not the best mom. That makes me embarrassed, that my fears and sadness rubs off on them.
I had surgery, all went well and I came home that afternoon. Jim tried to call me that evening. I was able to tell him that the surgery was a success and that all was well. The phone line went down in Afghanistan so we were not able to really talk. It was nice to hear his voice, like a little hug from across the world.
The next few days are a painful blur that was only made better because of my angel of mercy (my daughter). She got up every four hours and gave me pain medicine, helped me get up when needed and fed me when I was hungry. I had two friends who came and sat with me. The real kind of friends that ask you and don't take no for an answer. They ignored my "I will be fine" comments and came anyway.
The children and I had planned to drive from Northern Virginia to Wisconsin to spend Christmas with family. Jim and I met in high school working at a one screen movie theater in my hometown. My mom still lives there for now. Going to Wisconsin without Jim is always a little painful, fun, love filled, but sad too because he isn't there to remember the past with me. We left early in the morning and drove straight through. I couldn't drive so the two older children drove. I sat painfully, very painfully with my leg propped up on the dash for 15 hours.
Driving into my mom's driveway was so wonderful. The Christmas tree was visible in the front window, the snow piled high in the front yard. I extricated my unbending leg from the dash of the car and with help, made it into the house. I was given food, pain pills, water to drink, a bag of frozen peas for my knee and a big fat warm blanket. It was so nice to have my mom taking care of me like when I was little. I slept in the recliner that night, waking to take more pain pills as needed. That trip wasn't easy at all. Not one I would suggest for anyone eight days out of knee surgery.
I hadn't heard from Jim in a few days. I was getting worried but know that no news is usually good news, but I still worry. Each time I see a new email from him I know he was ok up until the minute he wrote that email and that gives me a little jump forward to the day when he will be home. Tiny little baby steps of him safe, bit by bit he will be ok and then come home. It turns out that there was an underground earthquake somewhere that disrupted the Internet service. Who would think that an underground earthquake somewhere on the globe could cause me to hold my breath for days on end?
I am in Wisconsin, resting my leg mostly, my children are happy and entertained. It was a good thing to come. It keeps their minds off their Dad not being here for Christmas. Jonathon just left for a night of movies at my brother's house. Jeffrey is showing my other brother how to play a video game on the computer. Jennifer is working on a gingerbread house. I always make sure to tell them when I have heard from their dad and when I haven't. I fill them in on the news he tells me which is little. Today, James had a story about being in a meeting and a little mouse running up and down the curtains. Then, it suddenly jumped off and onto the table running off with a stolen nut. Jeffrey thought that was pretty funny. We couldn't figure out how he didn't laugh really hard and disrupt the meeting. Stories like that make it seem human, safe and yet real.
The children and I are working hard to make the best of a bad situation. We want more than anything that James were here. Since we can't have that, we want him safe and we want to have people around us who love us. We will spend Christmas Eve with my family and Christmas day the children and I will go to James' parents home to spend the day with them. s it ok? Are we ok? Are we used to it? The answers are, No, it isn't ok!, We are ok, and Heck no! We are not used to it! When you get the flu the second, third or fourth time is it ok? Are you going to be ok? Are you used to it? You are not ok, you know you will eventually be ok again but in no way are you used to it just because you had to endure it before.
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