Mom's Guide to the Galaxy

Taking a trip back in time

“It’s hot, over-priced, and historically inaccurate.”
“But it’s fun.”

I went to my first Renaissance Faire in Ft. Lauderdale during college. We borrowed my Dad’s minivan for the hour drive from Miami, spent a good part of the February day at Faire, then went home and had a pool party. Because you can do that in Miami in February.

When I moved to Chicagoland and discovered there was a nearby Renaissance Faire that lasts two whole months, I was delighted! So delighted, in fact, that I’ve only missed it one year since I moved here; my daughter was born mid-season.

Dirk & Guido, the Swordsmen — Dirk & Guido, Bold & Stupid Men

Cirque du Sewer, during a rat’s performance

Bristol Renaissance Faire has so many choices, you can’t possibly cover it all in one day. I think the perfect day at Bristol includes seeing a classic performance and trying something new. Examples of Bristol classics would be The Mud Show (dirty, yet kid-appropriate), Dirk & Guido, the Swordsmen (Bold & Stupid Men! I have the button that says so), Adam Crack’s Fire Whip show, or even the Joust. (By no means is this a complete list.)

Which shows we see varies on each visit, partially dependent on who we’re wandering the Faire with. Last year, the new act (for us) was The Dread Crew of Oddwood, and oddly entertaining music group that describes itself as “Heavy Mahogany debauchery from Southern California.” This year, as we wandered between lunch and shopping, we encountered a lady with a rat, hawking her Cirque du Sewer show. It was delightfully amusing to see how well the cat and rats have their human trained.

Bast's Garden — Bast’s Garden, a menagerie of winged plush

Twisted Spiders — Beautiful spiders dangling from the ceiling.

And then there’s the shopping. The shopping opportunities are extraordinary, from apparel, jewelry, decorations, books, games, and more! We always visit our friends at Bast’s Garden, which usually results in yet another winged plush coming home with us, and I like stopping at the game store (just in case I need more dice). This year’s new find was Twisted Spiders, a booth dedicated solely to beautiful spider jewelry and adornments.

It’s never a dull day, and if you’re lucky, you get perfect weather too.

Exploring new possibilities

I usually peer in the window, then wander off. It’s safer that way. But I was spotted and invited in, so I took a chance.

It feels like speed dating – is that still a thing? – where you rush in and meet everybody with at most a couple minutes to grasp each personality before moving onto the next. It’s not as structured, it just seems pointless to backtrack if your first impression is that you won’t click. Or that the rest of the household won’t click.

June and Diane — We’re either sleeping or in motion; we will not look at the camera for you.

My girls have fairly aggressive personalities. They’re not outright hostile, simply a handful, and I won’t subject a timid personality to that. I’m also not sure how they’d react if I brought someone new home. We walked out of PetSmart without adopting another cat.

It’s been over two years since we lost our third cat, Mungojerrie, at the ripe old age of 19. Well, our first cat really, since he was the oldest. I adopted him at 10 weeks old, along with his brother, Rumpelteazer. (Yes, they lived up to their names.) We had lost Rumpel to cancer eight years before. At the time, we had a third cat, Missy, who almost became friends with Mungo before she passed away. When we lost her, he was lonely, howling for attention in the middle of the night until we (quickly) conceded and adopted Diane, our beautiful black and white cat.

A few months later, we had a brief, and tragic, interlude with Marianna, a cat who gave the most wonderful hugs, but didn’t absorb salt properly into her system. This caused her to pursue odd food sources, including climbing into a garbage can for some French fries that had been thrown out. She was a strange one.

After losing her, we adopted June, our polydactyl tortoise shell (she’s a Hemingway cat… an extra toe on each front paw). She was a young mother, being adopted out at the same time as her “kittens” (they were as large as her already, and she’s not particularly small), and she rounded out the family perfectly.

This was the first time since we Mungo passed away that I’ve stepped into the room to meet the adoptable cats. I’m not sure we need a third cat, or that we’re ready for one, but there was a cute Siamese I wanted to meet. As it turns out, he was sweet, but too shy for this house. Maybe next time.

Birthday Party Planning

There isn’t one right way to plan a kid’s birthday party; every child is different, so every party should be too. Every party planner is different too. I like having a theme to plan towards, and luckily, my daughter is willing to work with that. Some years, deciding on the theme is a chore in itself, though her eleventh birthday was super easy to pick – that had to be Harry Potter themed. (I suspect her 111th birthday will have a Lord of the Rings theme, though I also suspect I won’t be available to celebrate it.)

The hardest part about making these dragon handouts was finding the large eggs.

Some themes only affect the party favors, such as the year we handed out crocheted dragons. The rabbit theme impacted the food too, I served carrot cake, along with the traditional banana bread mini-donuts that I’m required to make for every birthday party. Carrot cake happens to be my favorite cake, so I had actually suggested it for a couple years before the theme finally

This dementor made the mistake of showing up at a wizard party with a Hawaiian theme.

Harry Potter had the most elaborate planning, with a home-made dementor piñata, a castle cake pan, and a lathe where kids could customize their own wooden wands during the party. There was even a golden snitch being hidden repeatedly; each time it was found, the house was awarded points, and it was hidden again. The planning started more than a year in advance, with bits and pieces coming together as we added the Hawaiian aspect (for a summer birthday) and came up with the different activities.

I don’t think you need many organized activities at a party – once they have an idea or two, kids will generally keep themselves entertained. And the adults can relax while they do that (except, of course, if you’re the adult supervising the lathe).

This year’s theme took a while to pick, we finally settled on a party at Brookfield Zoo, which is one of the two large zoos in the Chicagoland area. There are playgrounds for the younger kids, educational information for the bigger ones, and an awesome selection of animals for everybody to see.

I made good use of our zoo membership, visiting multiple times earlier in the summer so I could gather clues for a scavenger hunt. I took tons of photos of educations signs that I normally wouldn’t have, just so I could review the information at home while planning the hunt. Cassandra suggested having a word scramble from the answers, so I went with that idea. I briefly considered giving more clues than letters needed for the word scramble, then decided not to be that mean… this time.

As a bonus, I printed up Brookfield Zoo Bingo cards, so the teams worked together on the scavenger hunt and separately on their Bingo cards. The one downside we hit was the time limit – I told people to be back at our picnic area in an hour. Some of the Bingo cards were fairly thoroughly marked off, but in that time, only one person finished more than half the hunt; I included clues from opposite sides of the zoo. This one really takes two hours… try it, if you’d like. Brookfield Zoo Scavenger Hunt (Answers available on request.)

It’s grilling season!

Many years ago, on this day, my father was born. It seems appropriate to celebrate with this topic, since he taught me how to cook on a grill. I can’t make it to his birthday party, hopefully someone at the house is lighting up the grill to make something delicious for him.

My Big Green Egg (with a side of weeds) and other people’s backyards.

I’m always excited when grilling season arrives, though I don’t grill nearly as much as I think I should. Growing up in Miami, grilling season was year round, and I continued that tradition at my old house, where my grill was on a covered patio. Calling it a “grill” is almost insulting, my outdoor cooking is done in a Big Green Egg, which is a ceramic smoke oven. In addition to having a fun name, it cooks faster than a regular grill and retains more moisture in the food. It’s similar to cooking in an oven, with the added flavors that come from cooking over charcoal.

Delicious grilled salmon — Grilled salmon. Yes, it was as good as it looks.

I finally fired up the grill for the first time this season because of a grilled salmon recipe I found in a magazine. I don’t eat fish often, much less when it’s cooked; I prefer it in sushi. But the recipe sounded good, calling for garlic and fresh herbs. I’m a sucker for garlic, and was able to harvest fresh chives and cilantro to add it. When it’s warm, I’d rather not overheat the house by baking, so I took my cooking outside.

Once I’ve started grilling for the season and have a taste for it, I’m more likely to fire it up any given weekend. I realize it’s more work than a gas grill, but I think it’s worth the extra effort. This weekend’s grilling plan is a lime cilantro flank steak (pre-seasoned, not using my cilantro this time), garlic artichokes, and a jalapeño with peanut butter (to see how it compares to the baked version). Just thinking about it is making my mouth water. (If I touch my eyes after cutting the jalapeño, they’ll be watering too. I’ll try to avoid that.)

Happy grilling, and happy birthday, Dad!

And rain will make the flowers grow.

I took photos of the garden last week, thinking I’d be writing about it after Razor Girl, and it wouldn’t hurt to get ahead. We then had a warm, wet week… everything with full sun grew at least at least six inches in that time… including the weeds. (OK, I may be exaggerating… but not by much.)

Star bed, early July 2017, growing mint, sunflowers, chives, cilantro, basil, and hopefully dill — Growing mint, sunflowers, chives, cilantro, basil, and hopefully dill

Star bed, late July 2017, showing mint, catnip, sunflowers, and chives — 12 days later, from the other side… chives, mint, catnip, and the open sunflowers.

When we moved in last year, before moving any furniture in, we set up raised garden beds in the back for some vegetables. About a month later, we added a bed to the front, specifically selected a decorative pattern (a star) rather than a plain rectangle… curb appeal and all that. The star (and grass around it) was overrun last year by two tromboncino squash plants, with chives and mint somehow peeking through. (Most herbs are actually weeds, so this isn’t hard to believe.) This year, the star is a full-fledged flower and herb garden, with a different herb planted in each of the five points, and sunflowers sprouting tall above the other plants in the center.

Keyhole bed, early July 2017, growing cauliflower, eggplant, tomatoes and peas — Growing cauliflower, eggplant, tomatoes and peas

The back garden did nicely last year, particularly my okra plants, but I felt I needed more planting space. And less grass to mow. I assembled a keyhole raised bed from Costco in the back, significantly closer to the house. This set is a first for me on several counts: assembled on my own, tall (almost two feet), and with a built-in composter. I’m enjoying the ease of reaching my plants, though it’s disconcerting to have to weed the open composter as well as the growing area. I planned my layout with the taller vegetables – corn and okra – in the low beds, saving this bed for somewhat shorter plants. At the rate they’re growing, I may end up with tomatoes towering over me!

Low beds, early July 2017, growing corn, pumpkins, beans, tomatoes, Brussels sprouts, honeydew, peas, and salad greens — Growing corn, pumpkins, beans, tomatoes, Brussels sprouts, honeydew, peas, and salad greens

The low beds are growing slower, being partially shaded by the back neighbor’s white mulberry tree. It still has berries on it, so I can’t trim any branches yet. I can assist with the harvesting though.

Like the keyhole bed, the star has no shade at all, which is perfect for growing sunflowers. Most other flowers in there are random seeds, hoping to attract more pollinators, with a few bulbs like hyacinths for the spring. I expect to add some tulip and daffodil bulbs in the fall. Beyond that, I’m not likely to do much, as my focus is more on the plants I can eat.

I have a long term goal of reducing the amount of grass in the yard. There will always be some – I like walking barefoot in it – but it shouldn’t be the main feature of my yard. I’m three garden beds into that goal already.

Thoughts on Razor Girl

Don’t ask about the mystery meat…

To quote Guardians of the Galaxy, “What a bunch of A-holes.”

I normally read science fiction and fantasy, with the occasional historical fiction thrown in for fun, which explains how I had never read a Carl Hiaasen book before Razor Girl. The book was handed to me by a friend after our flight from Guayaquil, and I’ve never been one to pass on a free book, especially since I had given away my just-finished reading material to another friend before the flight. Razor_Girl_cover

The depth of Hiaasen’s characters is impressive. People who appear for only a page or two have quirky details thrown in with their introduction, making them oddly memorable. Somehow, every character has quirks that makes them less likeable, though an active dislike builds up for the primary characters over chapters of interaction, rather than immediately.

The main character, (Food) Inspector Andrew Yancy, has a collection of character flaws that make you wonder how he was ever a cop (even in the Florida Keys), must less still not in jail. That said, he is one of few characters that you may grow to like; at his core, he has good intentions. He unwittingly ends up working with Merry, a con woman who decides he needs her help. (She’s right.) They wind their way through a missing person’s case, with some clues provided by Yancy’s day job… yes, somebody really clipped their beard into a vat of quinoa with the restaurant’s best kitchen shears. Don’t ask about the mystery meat at that other restaurant.

In short, if you want to read about a wretched hive of scum and villainy with fantastic plot twists, this book is for you.

Cruising the Galápagos

Our Galápagos cruise was on the Lindblad National Geographic Endeavour II. That’s a mouthful, we just called it the Endeavour once we were on board. We flew into Guayaquil, Ecuador the day before embarking, arriving late enough that we only stopped to eat dinner before going to bed. We were met at the airport by Lindblad staff who happily ferried our luggage to the hotel and presented us with a rundown of the next morning’s activities: early morning wake-up, luggage outside the door 15 minutes later, and a buffet breakfast before dashing off to the airport for our flight to Baltra for embarkation. Galápagos images: Welcome to the Galápagos, marine iguana, Sally Lightfoot crab, blue-footed boobies, sea lions, sunset

After our short flight, we walked out of the back of the plane (or front, depending where you were seated), queued up for immigration and a bag check, then waited with snacks and shopping in the VIP lounge while the rest of the cruise-goers made their way through the lines. We then loaded into buses to the dock so we could put on life vests to ride the Zodiacs to the ship. Our luggage, tagged with our cabin numbers, would follow separately.

After a brief view of the cabin and introduction to our housekeeper for the week (Kelly), we mustered in the lounge for crew introductions and emergency procedures. Oh, and more snacks, then lunch in the dining room soon afterwards. Somewhere in there, I found time to unpack before our first wet landing of the week, where I followed our naturalist, Jason’s, example and walked barefoot for our mostly sandy nature walk.

After that, most of the week is a blur. I spent a restless first night on the boat arguing with something that didn’t agree with my stomach, missed a nature walk and the first snorkeling opportunity then next day, then rejoined the activities for a late afternoon walk. Over the next few days, we were taught about plants and wildlife in the Galápagos, with many up close and personal encounters. The basic guideline is to stay six feet away from the animals, which most people attempted to do. The animals, who are unfortunately illiterate, followed no such rule, which certainly made for better photos.

Most days followed a similar route: breakfast, morning excursion choices (usually splitting into shorter wildlife walks and longer, more scenic ones), lunch on the ship and an education talk (photography, geology, and Charles Darwin were among topics covered) while the ship moved to another location, afternoon excursion choices that frequently involved being in the water, then a daily recap and the next day’s plan before dinner. Among the options we tried were jumping off the back of the boat (into 65 degree water! BRRR!), stand-up paddle boarding, kayaking (not recommended right after paddle boarding, uses too many of the same muscles), and deep water snorkeling, in addition to many scenic walks across sand, lava, and uphill both ways in one case.

Over the course of the week, we ended up on at least one excursion with each naturalist. It didn’t really matter, they were all awesome, but they each brought a slightly different perspective and unique stories to the adventure. When we visited the Darwin Research Center and learned about Lonesome George, we happened to be with Socrates, a naturalist who has helped out at the center for years. The next day, we saw a giant centipede and heard from Christian how he was bitten by one as a child.

We spent a day in Santa Cruz, visiting the Darwin Research Center and shopping in Puerto Ayora before visiting the Tomás de Berlanga School, which is supported by the cruise line, while another group visited a coffee and sugar plantation. We reconvened at a local restaurant for a delicious lunch, then drove to a farm that lets Galápagos tortoises wander freely. As it turns out, they’re fond of guavas, which grow at the farm and are allowed to fall freely for the creatures. After a bit more shopping, we carefully avoided the sea lions wandering the docks and found our Zodiac back to the ship.

That was the second night we were delighted by live music on board. The night before was a performance by crew members, including the captain (making for a stellar line in La Bamba… “yo no soy marinero, soy capitán”). A local music group came on board with a dance group with assorted instruments, keeping us entertained – and dancing for some of it – for quite a while.

By the time we disembarked on Saturday morning, we were wiped out, yet sad to leave. We flew back to Guayaquil, where Cassandra and I ignored the city tour option in favor of the heated pool and a pair of coconuts with straws, followed by a stroll through the hotel in search of a chocolate shop. An early dinner followed, anticipating the 2:30am wake-up for our flights returning us to reality.

Reality Doses

The trip of a lifetime was surrounded by heavy doses of reality.

Eighteen months ago, my mother called me on my birthday and asked if Cassandra and I wanted to cruise the Galápagos with her. It was such a tough sell, we probably deliberated for all of five minutes.

Planning ensued… should we go with the known company, that Mom had cruised with before, or look into others? Book through her travel agency or directly through the cruise line? We opted out of any pre- or post- extensions due to my limited vacation time.

There were hiccups. We booked over a year ahead, which meant we couldn’t buy plane tickets at the same time. My mother wanted to arrive a day earlier than us, which meant booking an extra hotel night. The travel agent retired, leaving someone else at the agency scrambling to find us airfare as the trip approached. My mother, who’s fairly close to technologically illiterate, would leave me a voicemail with another question for the travel agent, then drop off the grid for a few days or a month on another trip. Then suddenly the school year was almost over and I was rushing to buy whatever Cassandra had outgrown from the packing list, and checking to see what I was missing.

The day before our trip arrived and we were just about packed and ready to go. I woke up and prepared for work like normal, then took a few minutes to water the vegetable garden. As I walked back in, I pulled a few weeds out (it’s a compulsive habit), so I stopped to wash my hands at the kitchen sink before preparing breakfast.

Nothing came out.

I stepped into the garage and could hear some water running, presumably the last trickles the pump had pulled from my well before the corroded pipe (many feet down) had burst. By the end of the day, I had new pipes and a new pump going to my well. Reality doses - corroded pipe and dirty, leaking tubing

The trip of a lifetime deserves its own post; that will follow soon. Having returned from an outstanding ten-day trip, I returned to work the next day and Cassandra wandered off to her Dad’s for a week of relaxation.

Friday morning, I stepped into the garage – which is rapidly becoming a sign of bad news – and noticed water dripping from a tube into a drain. It was small, but I was sure it hadn’t been dripping like that before.

As it turns out, fixing my well resulted in increased water pressure; the corroded pipe must have been leaking for some time, but not so much that the pressure had seemed low when I bought the house. Increased water pressure caused a minuscule hole to expand. By Saturday afternoon, it became apparent that plumbing Band-Aids were not going to cut it; the tubing was split right at the joint. I alternated between full pressure with the drain filling up, and turning the pump off while I used up the wall tank of water for the duration of the weekend. I was positively ecstatic on Monday when the plumber announced it was an easy fix.

And that’s how reality reared its ugly head on both sides of my vacation.