Cold

It's cold. Yes, everyone knows it. It's Minnesota in January; what do you expect? Midwesterners love to talk about the weather in its glory and its...guts? You know, when it's cold out, just like guts? Anyhoo, yes, we talk about the weather. But, aside from Chicago, cities in the Midwest are car cities. Everyone drives. Very few people are outside waiting for trains or buses. So, while today was like -20 or something (to tell you the truth, I haven't really been following the actual temperatures), I spent a grand total of probably 10 minutes outside the entire day. And, at least 5 of those minutes were walking to and from a bar...so, not really required outdoor time. The point is, what's the big deal? It's just a few days of really cold days--you warm your car up for a few minutes more before driving; you turn the thermostat up a couple degrees; you eat soup for dinner. By Monday it will be above freezing, they say. And the beat goes on.

Cry, Cry, Cry, Laugh

I am letting Johan cry it out tonight, determined to have him trained to crib sleeping at night by the time Eduardo gets home from the DR. I am helped along by 1) bota box red wine; 2) a nice long convo with Moira; and 3) facebook.

But, this put me over the top. I indulged in one of those weird creepy blogs of retro domestic type wives and this one woman wrote about how much she likes brown rice. And I think, yes, brown rice is great. Then she gives her "recipe."

Brown Rice

1 cup white rice, uncooked
1 can of beef broth
1 can of beef consomme
1 package of Lipton's dry onion soup mix


So, wait, it's really white rice with MSG, not brown rice. Riiight. I wonder if she knows that brown rice is actually a thing. Its own grain even without Lipton's.

On a less intense note...

I have also been feeling like I'm in a food rut- I know what I like and then tend to choose the same kinds of foods and same combinations of foods over and over again. But, I've decided 2009 is going to be different.

Last week I cooked with sweet potatoes for the first time- just baked and then mashed with soy milk, cinnamon, and sugar. Turned out well, and I think I will start experimenting more with them.

Then, last night I had dinner at Thomas's house. Thomas is a hunter and he cooked up numerous different cuts of venison. I enjoy meat but my carnivorous repertoire is pretty limited- I had never eaten wild game. I've never even eaten duck. The venison was good; lean and tender. Of course, Thomas served it with a sauce of brandy, cream, onions, and mushrooms, so there's nothing not to like.

Anyway, I am going to try to try a new food each week during 2009. Any suggestions?

Now?

Only 10 days until Obama is President. So much hope.

Yet, since I have been back from the DR, I find myself thinking about Sep. 11, 2001 quite a lot.

I think it is because I was living in Santo Domingo when it happened. That is where I lived it. Watching satellite TV from my internship at the UN- standing next to our IT guy who smugly proclaimed that we all had it coming. Hearing the arguments between the Western Europeans and the Eastern Europeans about whether it was deserved. Hearing false reports of the Sears Tower getting hit and figuring it was only a matter of moments until a plane reached the Mall of America. Trying to use my Dominican cell phone to get through to my parents-- to tell my mom to get home because her office was right by the Mall; to tell my dad that David should go home from school just in case. Hearing the Dominican radio commentators accuse the Japanese (retribution for WWII, obvio). Watching the towers fall and seeing the Texan woman who worked in my office fall to the ground like an ante-bellum lady fainting. The UN offices closed after the towers fell, and many of us went to the Conde Cafe in Santo Domingo, which is set directly across a plaza from the Catedral. The first church in the New World, so they say. I went there that day and got on my knees and cried. It was the only time I went to church while I lived in Santo Domingo. It was the only time in my life that I have actually begged "G-d" for mercy.

Before it happened, I had already planned to meet my Dad in Miami for a weekend toward the end of September. Many flights were cancelled during that time, but I managed to secure a flight to get there. I feel like I was a different person during those days in Miami. When I first arrived at the Miami airport, the immigration officer stamped my passport and said "Welcome home" and I started bawling. I remember watching some TV program/concert to raise money for victims and being unable to turn away from it. I remember eating lobster ravioli with my dad. At my request, my Dad and I both went to a Miami hospital and donated blood. Such a strange strange time.

I think that being in Santo Domingo and re-visiting many of the places I frequented during that epoch have made me reflective. I guess it's like how all of our parents remember exactly where they were when Kennedy was shot. Those snapshot memories of capital letter days don't fade, but sometimes they are brought into brighter focus by revisiting the places where one watched the world change.

It's been a long 8 years. I believe in Obama. I believe in this country of ours for believing in Obama.

Check it out...

My great ol' dad has a blog. I bet lots of comments will encourage him to stick with it. Check it out at www.radionorskie.blogspot.com. The link is also to the right. Go, dad, go.

Full Circle

I guess you could say I've always had a thing for striking black women.

Today I met with a new client in her home. She looked like a darker-skinned Erykah Badu. Her hair was wrapped in a beautiful cloth; she was graceful with long hands; had large and wide-set eyes; nice teeth with the perfect sized gap between the top front ones; and wore linen clothes. Her home smelled of incense and was decorated with African art. When she opened the door for me, she said "wow, you're pretty." I was speechless, finally mustering a "that's so nice, thank you."
Later, when she was signing her paperwork, I noticed that you could tell by her signature that she is an artist (which she is).

When I left, I thought of my first day of Montessori school. The girl sitting next to me during music time was bigger than me. She had this amazing, full head of poofy black hair. It was almost an Afro. During music class, I couldn't resist and I buried my face in her hair. The teacher scolded me and it was my first lesson in boundaries.

Don't worry, I didn't do that today. It wouldn't have been professional.

Learning in the Old Year

There are lots of good stories from the DR that could be told in some detail if I weren't so tired. If you are *lucky* (LUCKY, I say!), you may get those details over the weekend. For now, here are some things I learned during our travels.

* Johan loves tea made from oregano and anise. This was his grandma's remedio for his intestinal ailments, and I'm not totally convinced it cured him, but it made him happy and kept him hydrated.

* Johan might be a campesino. He loved chasing chickens and petting roosters and riding donkeys.

* Eduardo's mom may or may not think I am a drunk.

* It is fun to travel with Sarah and Sylia. Ok, guilty as charged. I already knew that.

* It is not a good idea to order whole fish from a roadside stand, even if it is fried. I learned by observation on this one.

* Johan loves rice and beans. A lot.

* My favorite Santo Domingo bar, Ocho Puertas, is still there on Calle Jose Reyes. But not on the side of the street I remember it being. The drinks are still good and way too expensive and I still love it.

* I am getting old(er). I no longer find beauty in the simplicity of latrine bathing and latrine pooping or in the silence of time without electricity. This deserves a longer discussion, because I am somewhat distressed about discovering that I am not the same traveler I used to be. Stay tuned.

* The distance from the the jet way to the Passport Control at Miami Airport may or may not qualify me for the Twin Cities Marathon.

*Traveling by myself with 6-month-old Johan is very different than traveling by myself with toddler Johan.

* If you walk into the Miami Airport bathroom on New Year's Eve, you are likely to see a lot of Au Bon Pain and Nathan's Hot Dog Employees shedding their uniforms on the floor of the bathroom, getting naked, and then changing into sparkly dresses and painting their eyelids with purple and turquoise eyeshadow.

Happy New Year.