New show auditions

well, the audition information has been posted on-line. Auditions will be January 9th and 10th. Because of the nature of the show, I can cast multiple people in the show or very few people. That makes it nice, but also challenging. This show also lends itself to slapstick and improv so the auditions need to be more than cold readings.

Cold readings are auditions where the actors come in and read from the script only.

So this next week I'll be figuring out some improv games to use as well as marking a few readings.

Auditions are terrible for actors because they always wonder why they didn't get the part or if they do get the part they try to second guess the director as to why they were chosen for the role. We all know that two people can be equally talented, trained, experienced but what it really comes down to is does the person look the part. People can be too old, too fat, too short etc. They will not be cast.

Auditions are terrible for directors too. You hope that you've cast the best person in the part. You worry that what you saw during auditions isn't a true picture of what they can do. Maybe that was as good as they are. Maybe you got them confused with someone else and you thought they were the person you really liked. Thank God for digital cameras - I can see exactly who is who when I get done. In the past I used to write notes to help me remember. Casting a non-equity show - especially a community show, where you're a new director and don't know who's a diva, who's husband is sleeping with someone else in your cast, who's auditioning only to have a showmance makes casting a minefield. I worked on a show once where one of the leading actors was dating the ex-wife of another lead while chasing another woman in the cast. The ex-husband told the ex-wife - fireworks. I worked another show where one of the women had dated 3 of the men in the cast - tense.

Ahhh...auditions - love them, hate them. They are a rite of passage in theatre.

Book Review Sonora Sundown by Janet Dailey

These books were much more enjoyable when I was younger. This book's contrived plot line is highly unbelievable. I guess when I was 16, wearing rose colored glasses, a 20-year-old woman with a 34-year-old man was romantic. Now, I think it's slightly perverted.
20-year-old Brandy, gets lost in the desert and stumbles into the camp of a 34-year-old possible cattle rustler, who turns out to be a famous actor.
I have to remember these books were written in the late 70s. Strong, domineering men were the romantic ideal. But today I wonder, what would a 34-year-old man see in a 20-year-old naive, virgin. More so, what would she see in him? There are 12 years between myself and my husband. We were 44 and 56 when we were married. Our children were grown. He had grandchildren and I find that our ages are somewhat of a block. He grew up on Leave to Beaver and I was a Sesame Street kid.
The other thing that I didn't really like was the abrupt ending. They were not really seeing eye to eye, but she loves him - for no other reason than he saved her. He is annoyed with her jealousy, but he walks in at the end and tells her they are getting married in August. He kisses her and the book ends. Really? What about her parents? What about the wedding plans.
A side note, these books probably should be written in the order they were written because LaRaine who was a minor character in Dangerous Masquerade showed up in these book. If you didn't know the back story on LaRaine some of the comments wouldn't make sense.

A new show

Well, the pre-production meeting was held. I'm not sure I'm any more in the know than I was before, with the exception that I have a wonderful producer -Kyle.
I will be directing A Carol Burnett Show Tribute - dinner theatre production for a semi-local to me community theatre. The group has secured the rights to the script (sketches); I believe the show will go up the second and third weekends in March.
Today I finished up the rehearsal schedule - based on what information I have. Currently, I work on Wednesday evenings so that cuts rehearsals to three nights a week, but luckily for me - spring break is in the middle so I can have 2 Wednesday nights. I figured out the amount of hours - and I'll be able to put in a minimum of 89 hours - possibly a few more - but that puts us in awesome shape if the old adage holds true - 1 hour of rehearsal time for 1 minute of playing time. The show should run about 90 minutes.
This is a dinner theatre so we have to figure out the logistics of food, seating, and sight lines. It's a challenge, but this is something for me to look forward too. After my last show closed, I was terribly depressed. That was silly because I knew this show was coming up, but I spent so much time working on the last show, that I felt quite bereft after it closed.
Auditions will be January 9 and 10 in the evening. I will be having the actors do improv, games, movement and maybe some cold readings and maybe some singing.

Book Review: Motor Mouth by Janet Evanovich

Ok, so maybe the situations are a bit implausible, but I do adore Evanovich's style and crazy characters.
Barney (Alex) and NASCAR guy (Sam) are at it again. Barney is a spotter for Sam's team. They're not together because he was doing a sales clerk, but she's still working with him. Another spotter (Gobbles) gets in a tight spot and then, well, in typical Evanovich fashion - everything falls apart. Barney and Sam hijack a car hauler of a competitor, rescue Gobbles, chop up two cars, find something suspicious and possibly illegal and find a dead body which Sam's St. Bernard, Beans, takes a bite. In the process of dumping the truck, Beans gets left behind and the bad guys are on to Barney and Sam. Of course they end up in Miami and Rosa and Felicia make an appearance.
When a bad guy kidnaps a person, especially a foreign bad guy, I don't think they just threaten to chop off their fingers. I don't think henchmen get multilple chances to get it right, but to make the story more interesting - these guys do.
This book besides being funny has enough suspense to make me worry that something bad is going to happen and someone is going to die. I highly recommend the Alex Barnaby series.

the party costume

So I have to go to my husband's company party. BOR-ING. He says I said I'd go, but I don't remember saying yes. He sent in the reservations. He said he'd go without me and he would. So now I have to find an outfit. It's a costume let's face it.
I looked at what the women were wearing last year and for the most part they looked like the happy hookers. Super short skirts, super high heels and plunging necklines.
I'm thinking jeans and a sweater. I'm not sure if that's appropriate, but if I have to go to this obnoxious waste of money and time, I might as well be comfortable.
As for the rest of the costume - no jewelry and no makeup. No sense in looking good, my husband gets jealous if other men talk to me so I'll try to blend into the background.
I suppose I could always wear the same thing I wore last year.

Resolutions

Ahhh...it's that time of year again...time to think what I want to do in the upcoming year.
2012 - My oldest daughter will turn 24 and celebrate her 1st anniversary in July. Her husband will return home from his deployment in June. She will move to NC in May.
My younger daughter will turn 23, have her first baby and celebrate her 3rd anniversary.
My youngest will turn 21 and move somewhere with his father.
Me, I'll be 48 and celebrate my 4th anniversary if we make it that long. There are days when I wonder. Do I have any major goals - not really. Next year when I look ahead to the up coming year - I'll probably just be able to cut and paste and change the age. I'll continue to work part-time at the local junior college and substitute teach. I'll still owe a gazillion dollars in medical bills and twice that much in student loans. We'll still be living in this crappy trailer park because we can't get a loan to develop our property - that is if my husband ever gets his butt in gear and finds the guy who was suppose to give us an estimate for developing the property. The guy looked over the property and what we wanted to do back in August and we haven't heard from him since. I guess he doesn't really need the work or something. I don't know him or I'd hunt him down myself.
I'll probably lose a little weight and gain a little weight. I'll probably get a little grayer and a bit slower. And hopefully, I'll still be here next year.

book Review: Metro Girl by Janet Evanovich

Classic Evanovich! I guess part of why I love Evanovich books is because she writes in a formula style and I know what to expect. I have read all of the Stephanie Plum books and this one follows the same pattern. Girl gets sucked into a mystery/situation that she is unable to handle, but she tries by bumbling along. Then there is the hot guy who thinks about sex a lot. In this case it's Sam Hooker, a NASCAR driver who is also inept at solving the problem, but he's along for the ride so to speak. Plus there is a fat tough woman - in this book it's Rosa, a cuban immigrant. And then you have to have some odd-ball character - in this case it's Judey - the gay guy and his dog Brian. Much like her other books, Barney bumbles and stumbles along, gets in trouble, gets out, gets in a bind and the hot guy rescues her at the last minute and in the end, everyone gets together and hangs out.
It was a fun read. I enjoyed the fact that Hooker is kind of a wus and not all tough and macho. I chuckled through the book because Evanovich has a flair for over-stating the obvious in such a way that I find it funny. I highly recommend this book. It's more like some of the early Stephanie Plum books.

Holiday anger

Ok, so I'm angry - more than angry - I'm furious. Why? Because I have to go to some stupid holiday party. I dislike parties in general - they're loud and crowded and everyone is fake, but mandatory company parties are the worst. So I have to go to a company party where I don't even work. UGH!

I could not go, but then my husband would have to put up with the gossip about our marriage - people would be wondering if we are having problems. Plus, I'd spend the evening wondering which woman was hitting on him. A single man at a party with booze is fresh meat to a lot of women.

I could suck it up and go; I went last year, it was 7 hours that I'll never get back. Let me lay this out so you can see how awful it was. The party was scheduled from 5pm-1am at a local college. Hors de ouvres were to be served from 5-6. We got there shortly after 5 - we never did get any hors de ouvers. My husband said he didn't want any and I was trying not to look like a pig. So why we had to get there so early is beyond me. We found a table toward the back of the room. We were the only people at a table for 8. There was an unlimited open bar. I don't drink and my husband only drinks beer. He got up 3 times to go get a beer during the evening. Dinner was a buffet, but the roast beef was tough; and I don't like vegetables so that left salad. I assume there was dessert, but we didn't eat any. About 4 hours into the ordeal, I had to use the ladies' room. There were a bunch of factory rat women in there with so much makeup on they looked like hookers and most of them were wearing tight short skirts and super high heels and big hair. I thought big hair went out in the 80s.
Then the DJ began. He was loud and people were drunk. We don't dance so we sat and watched. I just wanted to go home, but noooooooooooo. We had to stay until 12:30. He didn't win any of the door prizes so it was pointless evening. During the entire episode, I think 3 people stopped by our table and said hi - all women.
Now, it's that time again. I'm fatter than ever and now he's a regular employee. The other day I stopped by his office and his boss asked me if I was looking forward to the party. I told her I wasn't going and she told me I had to go. I don't have to do anything. I told her I went last year and I was bored. So she told me that I could hang out with her and her friends. Like that's going to happen - not.
I can't imagine hanging out with someone I barely know. And furthermore, and I'm going to sound like a snob, I have nothing in common with these people. I'm a college professor and these people are factory workers. They play bingo and drink beer. I prepare lesson plans and read books. I've heard them complain about having to take classes and what a waste it is. Well, I think their parties are a waste too.
I went to one other company party with him - I was trapped at a table with another wife for 5 hours. (Yes, my husband likes to make these things an all evening ordeal) First, I was pleasant, asked her how she was doing etc., but as the evening progressed, she became drunker and drunker. By the time I was able to escape, she was crying and telling me things that were much more personal than I wanted to know. I heard her life story including all of her sexual exploits. I was mortified.
Do I have a choice, I suppose there is always a choice; I can stay home and make my husband angry. Actually, I don't think he would care if I stayed home. The question should be, am I comfortable staying home? And the answer is no. So I'm going to smuggle a book and a small flashlight in my purse. I know there is a quiet spot off the main dining room and I'll go read my book there. I'm not going to sit there for 7 hours again doing nothing.

Book Review Explosive Eighteen - Janet Evanovich

Oh Stephanie - you're becoming rather predictable. I started reading the Plum series this summer and devoured them, one after another including the "between the numbers" books. They made me giggle out loud. But this one, it was just too hard to follow the unraveling mystery. It was a bit far-fetched. A photograph slipped into her bag, people trying to kill her those are typical but then when the photo is from a hacker who is trying to help his mother - but people think it's of him the story line gets a bit confusing. Plus there wasn't enough of Ranger, Morelli and Grandma Mazur. Something happened in Hawaii, yes we find out what it was, but Morelli doesn't and I thought he should be told. The best parts were when Joyce moved in with Stephanie. I laughed at those. In the end, I felt blah. It wasn't the usual Stephanie Plum - no cars were blown up, crushed, or smashed. Oh and I really didn't like the Lulu and Buggy thing - creepy. I hate to think think this, but maybe Stephanie should marry Morelli and settle down in the Burg and raise a bunch of little Morellies. She could chase bad guys with a diaper bag or just get a nice job in a bank.

Book Review: Dangerous Masquerade by Janet Dailey

This is the second Americana book I've read by Janet Dailey. I was going to read them for fun, something different than my usualy true crime/mystery or more techinical books, but after reading this one, I'm not sure I want to continue.
I know the book was originally written in 1977, but have times changed that much? Were women looking for ruthless, dominating men who bordered on crazed 35 years ago? I hope not, because I read my share of popular romance novels while in high school and if this is what I was digesting it's a wonder I didn't end up in a physically abusive relationship. Maybe someone should research what girls are reading in high school and then track how their relationships end.
Laurie is an orphan raised by her father's brother and his wife who dotes on their daugther LaRaine, never paying much attention to Laurie except to tell her what a burden she is. She moves out when she's 18, but when the bratty LaRaine wants to move out, the aunt guilts Laurie into moving in with her to help her out. LaRaine is a gold digger and wants to land a rich husband and be a movie star. She gets the opportunity to do both, but she is obligated to fly to Alabama to meet her fiance's old aunt. She convinced Laurie to pretend she is her and sends her off. The fiance is in South America on business. Of course, he returns and finds out the truth. Laurie offers him the explanation but he wants nothing to do with it and forces Laurie to continue the charade. At times, he grabs her painfully - leaving marks on her wrists and arms. One time he even grabs her by the throat. He threatens her physically and emotionally, but all Laurie can see is a strong man. The kind who will take care of her and ravish her in bed. Heaven help her if she is ever out of line in his opinion. While the writing is consistent, the themes of abuse hiding as love left a bad taste in my mouth.

Book Review: Northern Magic by Janet Dailey

This book was written in 1982 and because of that the reader will find things a bit primative - namely no GPS, no cell phones, and no mention of global warming. The story is set in Alaska when Shannon Hayes receives a one-way plane ticket from her fiance. No letter, no phone call, just the ticket. She packs her bags, tells her parents the wedding is that weekend and flies off to the Last Frontier. Upon arrival, she doesn't find her fiance; there is no phone number, no one has seen nor heard from him in 2 weeks and Shannon is stuck at a nice hotel. Obviously, she has unlimited resources because she offers to pay for a search party to fly around looking for him when it is discovered that he has crashed in the wilderness. During the search, she meets Cody Steele who in one look captures her heart. Really? The man is a rogue. He pursue her relentlessly and tells her he always gets what he wants. Husband material?
The book was short and I finished it in a couple of hours. It did keep my attention more because I wanted to find out if the fiance would be found alive or not. I guess I'm older and more cynical or times have really changed, but Cody Steele didn't steal my heart.

Curtain Close

For the past 8 weeks, I've been working with some of the most amazing high school students. They are kind and helpful and so supportive of one another. It makes me believe that their is hope for the future.

Tonight was the final curtain on "A Midsummer Night's Dream" and these 23 wonderful kids pulled it off with aplomb. I'm so impressed with their dedication. I will transcribe my director's notes at a later date - but for now - Well done cast! I shall miss seeing you every day after school, laughing with you, listening as you voice your concerns - I will how you bounce through the doors with so much energy that it wears me out trying to get you to focus - but I loved every minute of it.

Cleaning the coffee grinder

My husband loves coffee and when we got married, my sister introduced him to grinding his own. Thanks sis. Now we have even bigger messes. Coffee grounds all over the counter. I'm not a big coffee drinker - an occasional cup from 7-11 in which I blend fake French Vanilla with Hot Chocolate. Mmmm.
So when my husband said his coffee tasted funny, I didn't know why. It was fresh - I only buy enough beans to last for a week or two. The coffee pot gets cleaned. I know how to clean it - ice and salt does wonders. But I was still puzzled as to why his coffee might be tasting odd. Today, I discovered it probably is the grinder. I've never cleaned it. But how do you clean an electric gadget that doesn't come apart. I contemplated tossing it in the trash - it only cost $10 and Ken has used it every day for almost 3 years. But it still works well. Today, I learned something new - how to clean the coffee grinder. Uncooked rice. Empty out the grinder the best you can, add rice and grind. The rice will absorb the odors and oils leaving the grinder looking like new and odor-free

book review - Secrets in the Cellar

This book isn't for the faint of heart. Josef Friztl grew up with a domineering single mother during WW II in Austria - not far from a death camp and just down the street from a "clinic" that committed war autrocities. Even with this backdrop to his childhood, it is no excuse for the horrors he inflicted on his family and others. Convicted of rape in the late 60s, he served only 18 months before being released and after 15 years, his record was expunged. In public he became a model citizen, but behind closed doors he was a monster. Although his friends knew of his sexual appetite in Thailand, they never looked closer at what may be happening at home. The local prostitutes refused to service him, but never went to authorities about his devient behavior - letting this monster imprison his daughter in a cellar dungeon for 24 years and fathering her 7 children.
The book is mortifying to say the least and Glatt is pretty straight forward in his recounting of the story. He doesn't go into detail about the attacks, or Friztl's perversions. I did find that he repeated himself at times - sometimes within pages. I'm not sure why these repetitions weren't taken out during the editting. They weren't necessary to move the story forward nor were they key points. Although the story was horrifying by it's very nature, I, personally wanted more detail - more humaness to make me hate him more. The book went to print before any final conclusion has been reached - I hope that Fritzl gets his just punishment - but this book won't tell you if he does, unless Glatt puts an addendum on it.

Book Review - The Sign of the Twisted Candles

This is the ninth book in the Nancy Drew mysteries.

Nancy is at it again - solving crimes, making friends and saving the day - or in this case another orphan. Orphans play a big role in the series. But this time, Nancy has to solve the mystery without the help of her trusty side-kicks - Bess and George. They're mad at her for interferring. The case revolves around an old man and his will - of which Bess and George are named. In the end - the orphan finds family members, the will is no longer contested and the bad guys and girls are in jail.
Ned Nickerson makes a brief appearance - but does little to help Nancy in this case. It's a fun trip back in time before cell phones and computers - because there is no way Ned would leave Nancy alone at a creepy old inn with bad people stalking her to go get the cops nor would cut phone wires be a problem- they'd just whip out the cell phone. Also Nancy wouldn't have to make so many trips to check on clues - she could just google everything she needed to know these days. But the fact that she doesn't have these modern day convienences makes it a bit more creepy.

2011 - A New AMERICAN Christmas Tradition

My dad sent me this and I really like it. I can't claim it as my own, but it reflects my thoughts as Christmas approaches and I'm left wondering what do I get for each person on my list and I found that I've been doing some of this, but I could do a whole lot more.
I make a lot of my gifts whether it's gifts from the kitchen - many of our friends are too busy, widowed, or just don't cook - so I make batches of fudge, breads and cookies - I need to start baking soon.
This year I'm even going to attempt to make my own cards - need to start that this weekend.
You might say - but Tami - you're crafty and you have the time to spend on baking and crocheting. True - but read on - there are plenty of ideas for those without time. As for the talented part - how much talent does it take to make a coupon book for shoveling a driveway or making a recipe book? If we want our economy to flourish - spend the money at home.


As the holidays approach, the giant Asian factories are kicking into high

gear to provide Americans with monstrous piles of cheaply produced goods --

merchandise that has been produced at the expense of American labor. This

year will be different. This year Americans will give the gift of genuine

concern for other Americans. There is no longer an excuse that, at gift

giving time, nothing can be found that is produced by American hands. Yes

there is!



It's time to think outside the box, people. Who says a gift needs to fit in

a shirt box, wrapped in Chinese produced wrapping paper?

Everyone -- yes EVERYONE gets their hair cut. How about gift certificates

from your local American hair salon or barber?

Gym membership? It's appropriate for all ages who are thinking about some

health improvement.



Who wouldn't appreciate getting their car detailed? Small, American owned

detail shops and car washes would love to sell you a gift certificate or a

book of gift certificates.



Are you one of those extravagant givers who think nothing of plonking down

the Benjamines on a Chinese made flat-screen? Perhaps that grateful gift

receiver would like his driveway sealed, or lawn mowed for the summer, or

driveway plowed all winter, or games at the local golf course.



There are a bazillion owner-run restaurants -- all offering gift

certificates. And, if your intended isn't the fancy eatery sort, what about

a half dozen breakfasts at the local breakfast joint. Remember, folks this

isn't about big National chains -- this is about supporting your home town

Americans with their financial lives on the line to keep their doors open.



How many people couldn't use an oil change for their car, truck or

motorcycle, done at a shop run by the American working guy?



Thinking about a heartfelt gift for mom? Mom would LOVE the services of a

local cleaning lady for a day.



My computer could use a tune-up, and I KNOW I can find some young guy who is

struggling to get his repair business up and running.



OK, you were looking for something more personal. Local crafts people spin

their own wool and knit them into scarves. They make jewelry, and pottery

and beautiful wooden boxes.



Plan your holiday outings at local, owner operated restaurants and leave

your server a nice tip. And, how about going out to see a play or ballet at

your hometown theatre.



Musicians need love too, so find a venue showcasing local bands.



Honestly, people, do you REALLY need to buy another ten thousand Chinese

lights for the house? When you buy a five dollar string of light, about

fifty cents stays in the community. If you have those kinds of bucks to

burn, leave the mailman, trash guy or babysitter a nice BIG tip.



You see, Christmas is no longer about draining American pockets so that

China can build another glittering city. Christmas is now about caring about

US, encouraging American small businesses to keep plugging away to follow

their dreams. And, when we care about other Americans, we care about our

communities, and the benefits come back to us in ways we couldn't imagine.

THIS is the new American Christmas tradition.

.

Book Review: The Dating Game Killer

I haven't read anything by Stella Sands, but I will look for more of her work. So many true crime books are a listing of facts in a dry almost textbook manner, but Sands turns the facts into an interesting tale. Although I knew that the women she previews are going to die in the upcoming pages, it doesn't take away from the "oh no" factor. I kept hoping that one of them would get away; would turn up some place, safe.

The one word of warning I would add is that Rodney Alcala was a sadistic murderer and Sands doesn't hold back in the graphic descriptions of how his victims were tortured or found. It might be a bit upsetting to some.

I found the book hard to put down but I had to because life/work got in the way, but I highly recommend this book.

Hotwire A Maggie O'Dell mystery by Alex Kava

This book was so frightening that I had to stop reading it and wait until my husband came home to read more. This book began in a truly frightening manner. Cattle mutilations, drugged out teenagers being killed in a remote area of Nebraska...
Agent Maggie O'Dell was on her game in this book. She had to overcome resistance from the local law enforcement, her boss back at Quantico and a worried Col Platt, who ended up having his own adventure.
This book was hard to put down, once I wasn't scared. A few times, I thought I had it figured out, but then a new twist sent me in another directions. This is the type of mystery I love, just enough clues to let me think I know what's going to happen and then a quick change to throw me off.
I felt the ending might have been a bit rushed. O'Dell throws herself off a cliff to escape death, but we're never told how bad her injuries are or even what they were. I wanted the ending to be a bit more discriptive. But I'm not complaining except for the fact that I now have to wait for the next Maggie O'Dell novel to be published.

impaled by a potato chip

It's been awhile since I've had a real mishap. Over the last several months, I've developed tennis elbow, a pinched nerve in my neck, had to have bladder surgery because it had prolapsed and now I'm looking at having my thyroid operated on. And let's not talk about the dental work that is happening. I got insurance and my body fell apart - literally. None of those things are really funny and so don't qualify as a mishap, but today I had a bona fide mishap.

The cats decided it was time for me to get up. They sat on my chest, they sat on my head and when I covered my head with the pillow, they tried to suffocate me so I crawled out of bed and made my way to the kitchen. As I was shuffling around, trying to find breakfast for me while not tripping over the furry ones, I stepped down on something sharp. It embeded itself in the bottom of my foot. The soft skin of the arch where no summer callous had formed. The tender area right in front of my heel. It felt like I had stepped on glass. The pain was swift. I hobbled over to a chair wincing with each step.

Before I turned my foot up to look at it, I ran my hand over it, hoping to remove the offending material but it felt like I had a sliver in my foot, but I was puzzled at the stinging. When I finally bent to look at the sole of my foot, I found a broken potato chip piercing my foot. A potato chip! The salt from the offending material caused the stinging sensation. My doctor told me, chips were bad for my health, but I don't think he meant in this way.

Damaged A Maggie O'Dell mystery by Alex Kava

Maggie O'Dell doesn't exactly get along with her new boss and he doesn't exactly like her or so it seems so when she is needed in Florida where body parts are found floating in the Gulf Coast - she's sent - no worries about the Cat 5 hurricane heading her way. Meanwhile her friend Col Benjamin Platt also ends up in Florida to assist when the doctors at a military hospital are baffled by a slew of unexplainable sick soldiers - many who succomb to their illnesses. Of course, the two mysteries intertwine and bisect each other.
I like that Platt has become a character in the novels, but has remained on the periphery. I'm not sure I want Maggie to become involved. I think a romantic entanglement will take away from the mysteries and the mysteries are why I read these novels.
This novel was ok, but I just couldn't seem to get involved with the characters like I usually do, maybe it was my fault, maybe it was the author's style. It's still a good read.

Potato Soup

It's fall and that means - soup time! Yum! Ok not all soups are tasty. I'm not a fan of cold soups nor do I favor minestrone - but a good hearty potato soup with pumpernickle bread is a perfect lunch as far as I'm concerned.

I'll admit - I cheat a little. I start with a packet of Bear Creek Cheddar Potato soup mix. If I had more time to peel a bunch of potatoes I'd go that route - but this is a quick lunch time meal.

Much like the rest of my cooking - I follow the directions on the packet to make the stock and then add some diced onions, some ham or cooked bacon and a sprinkle of chipolte pepper. After it simmers for about 15 minutes - it's nearly ready - then I add a good portion of mozzerella cheese and finish it off with some parmesan cheese. In my opinion you can never have too much cheese.

Serve it with a thick slice of pumpernickle or rye bread with real butter and a fall lunch doesn't get any better.

Feel free to send me your potato soup recipes or comments on mine.

Shakespeare The World as a Stage by Bill Bryson

This was a quick read as far as books on Shakespeare go. I picked it up because I'm directing a Shakespeare play in the near future and wanted some background on the Bard, and England during that time period.

The book is loaded with fun facts and trivia which in my opinion make it interesting. There is really nothing new or earth shattering about Shakespeare in the book. And for the most part, Bryson stays away from the theories and controversies surrounding the authorship question. He saves those for a short chapter at the end and does try to debunk them. He has some pretty sound reasoning.

Bryson pulls together what few facts we know about Shakespeare and intersperses them with history of the time period. I recommend it, maybe not as a scholarly read, although he has done lots of research, but a good solid read on the life and times of Shakespeare.

Insurance

As those of you who regularly follow this blog have noticed - I've been slacking. Not so much because I haven't wanted too, but between work, classes and it being summer - I got insurance and my body went "Oh thank God, you can finally get me fixed" and promptly fell apart.
The end of June I was diagnosed with a dropped bladder and had surgery to hoist it back in place mid-August. The end of July I finally went to an orthopedic surgeon to see what was wrong with my elbow - diagnosis - tennis elbow and I don't even play. I also get to have my thyroid looked at - I have a slight swelling. My teeth are now clean and sparkling - of course I have a couple of cavities. Next up - the eye doctor. The only stipulation is that I have to go to a real office - no Wal-Mart eye doctors for me any more. After that - I'm getting a mammogram. Yep, I got insurance just before I completely fell apart. Besides the duct was starting to lose hold.

Diets

Diets suck. I'm a foodie. I love food, especially food that tastes good, but isn't particularly good for you. I love pizza, chips, anything with chocolate, McDonald's hamburgers - basically anything fried and greasy or chocolately. Ok and I'm incredibly lazy so if it's quick, easy and convienent - it's a meal.

On top of that - I'm an emotional eater. I eat when I'm depressed, lonely, nervous, but I also eat when I'm with friends, happy and excited. And I graze - my husband pointed out that I am constantly eating. What can I say? I have an oral fixation. I used to smoke; I love sucking out of a straw. It's the pressure on my lips and tongue...heavenly.

When I was a kid - I could eat anything. I was a skinny little runt. I could eat ice cream every night before I went to bed and never gain an ounce. My sister was the chubby one. She always had the baby fat. Unfortunately, she became anorexic and battles that every day -still. Although she's considered recovered.

Now that I'm in the midst of middle age - my middle is middling. I swear if I look at ice cream - it jumps to my tummy. I might mind so much, but the majority of my weight is located in my stomach. I understand that is a huge health risk or indicator or something bad. Over the years I've always said by next year I'm going to weigh 25 pounds less, then it was 50 pounds less. I got on the scales yesterday and unless I'm mistaken - I've topped 200 pounds - 207 to be exact. That's not pudgy, or chunky or even fat - that's gross fat! Obscenely obese.

So I started not a diet, but a change in how I eat. No longer can I sit and watch TV munching happily on chips and dip. No bedtime cookies and milk. Lunch can't always be a McDonald's quarter pounder and fries. And my pick-me-up should be more time sleeping and less time chugging diet sodas.

I took a long hard look at my exercise habits too. I don't have any. I have a Wii, but it always tells me "that's obese" so I don't like it much. Plus my neighbors live so close that they can see me exercising. They're always home. When I was younger, I was always dancing whether it was at a club or just around the house while I cleaned. Now, I sit at my desk or I sit on the couch. I'm on my computer. I don't need to go anywhere - everything is just a keystroke away. My gardening is down on FarmVille, my excitement comes from scaring bears on FrontierVille. Life is way to simple so I'm going to start slow and build up my endurance.

So here's the plan - pay attention to what I eat and when I eat. At the moment I have a lovely meatloaf and scalloped potatoes in the oven. I even made a Mornay White sauce for the potatoes; But, I made everything from scratch so no preservatives and I added veggies to the meatloaf. This is my husband's favorite meal and I'll take it to him on his dinner break. I bought smaller plates to eat on so I'll trick myself. I also heard if you're hungry eat a teaspoon of peanut butter - I might try that. So my dear blog readers - I might be a bit cranky over the next few weeks as I try really hard to drop at least a few pounds. I should write out a goal. By next Friday I will be down to 205. That's only 2 pounds in a week -that's 6,000 calories I need to cut or expend. I can do it.

Musings

I'm wondering what happened. I usually have tons of stories at my beck and call...but lately, they've hidden. Maybe they don't want me to share them with the world or maybe I'm too busy to hear them.

It's summer so I guess I can be a bit lazy - but I do need to keep working on the blog so I'll set some goals - I'm behind in my culinary updates and I have some doozy recipes for you so over the next couple of days I'll try to get those down. Plus I'll try very hard to come up with an amusing story or two.

On my theatrical front - life is going to get busy, busy, busy. I'm definitely directing Midsummer Night's Dream and hopefully Jack in the Bean Stalk, plus I'm working on writing two original scripts - all before Christmas -I need to get up earlier :)

Four to Score by Janet Evanovitch

This is not a book to read in bed, especially if your husband is trying to sleep. Laugh out loud uproarously funny stuff. Maxine is accused of stealing her ex-boyfriend's car so she runs him over, jumps bail and makes him jump through various hoops. He wants his love letters back, but they're not really love letters. Maxine sends him clues to find them and he has to do nasty things like dig through a bag of dog poop to find the clue. Stephanie and her posse of misfits goes after Maxine and tries to help the guy retrieve his letters.
Stephanie can't figure out the clues so she enlists the aid of Sally Sweet, a very large, very hairy cross-dresser who at the moment is playing in a drag band and living with a gay man. Sally will tell you he's straight. He influences Stephanie's 73-year-old grandma to join his band and eventually Lula will be their lead singer. But that's another story.
Then there is the question of men - Joe Morelli the good, but hot cop or Ranger who doesn't always follow the rules to get his man and who is in my opinion, even hotter.
Mayhem rules; cars and apartments are blown up leaving Stephanie high and dry, but there is always the 53 powder blue Buick and a bed at Joe's or Ranger's place.
I couldn't put this one down. LOVED! it.

The flying kitty

Some people are dog people and we have had our share of dogs and puppies, but when it comes right down to it, we're cat people. I have always had cats; Some of them inside cats that made me sneeze and most of them were outside cats who lived in the barn or later the garage.

If they are outside cats, you can pretty much be guaranteed that kittens will appear throughout the year. This particular time, Katie must have been about 9 and Sarah 8. To be honest, I don't know why I didn't see this happening, but I didn't.

Things were pretty quiet and then I heard a lot of giggling coming from Katie's room.

"Whatcha doing?"

"Nothing, Mom"

More giggling. "Can it go faster?"

I walked over to Katie's room and opened the door.

"MMmmmeeeOOoooWWWWwwwwww"

I looked up at the ceiling fan. There on the top of one of the blades was a terrified little gray kitten, hanging on for dear life. "MMmmeeeOOOoooWWWww" The kitten made another rotation.

"Get that kitten off from there". I tried to say it with a straight face, but I really had to bite my lip to look stern. "MmmEEeeeOOOoooWWww".

"Awww Mom."

"Turn the fan off before the cat gets sick and pukes all over this room."

That did it. The fan stopped moving and the kitten jumped off and landed on the Katie's bed which was directly underneath.

No damage was done to the cat, at least physically. And with the threat of rotating cat puking all over, no more cats took a ride on the ceiling fan.

First banquet

Well on Monday our culinary class cooked our first banquet.

This is some of our awesome chefs outside of the Lenawee Country Club.
We served an Italian themed banquet. Starting with appetizers - baquettes with bruscetti.

We moved on to the main dishes which included a baked ziti and three cheese tortellini. It was hot.

Nothing like starting our first stress filled banquet on a day that the temperature topped 90 degrees, but we were still smiling with a few minutes left to spare.

Our instructor is Chef Corey. Here he is directing us on what to do.

For dessert we made No Bake Chocolate Cheesecake Mousse. This is what I worked on.
This is simple to make and looks good. It has a bit of a cocoa flavor instead of a real sweetness.

Make a graham cracker crust using ground graham, melted butter and sugar.

For the mousse -
1-1/2 cups semisweet chocolate chips
1/2 cup granulated sugar
11 oz. cream cheese
1/4 cup butter or margarine, softened
2 cups whipping cream

melt chocolate chips over low heat in a saucepan or microwave, stirring frequently until smooth and melted. Set asied to cool. In large mixer bowl beat cream cheese, sugar and butter until smooth. On low speed blend in the melted chocolate. Fold in whipped topping until blended. Spoon cheese chocoalte filled mixture into prepared graham cracker crust. Cover and chill until firm.
Garnish with whipped topping and shaved chocolate - although we used mint leaves instead because it was so hot.

Our whipped topping was whippping cream, powdered sugar and a splash of vamilla.

Three to Get Deadly by Janet Evanovich

This is the best Stephanie Plum book so far. While the characters are zany, they are well-developed. The plot sometimes reaches, but not that far that it isn't plausible.
Not even Stephanie should be able to screw up her latest FTA, an old man who runs a candy store. What could be less threatening or dangerous, well, maybe a grizzly bear. Uncle Mo is loved by everyone in the Burg and because Stephanie is out to bring him in, everyone hates her. Mo's crime, carrying a concealed weapon, but he has a worse crime hidden in the woods.

As Stephanie, Lula and sometimes Grandma Mazur track their man - the men in Stephanie's life - Joe Morelli and Ranger are probably popping anti-acids and coloring their hair to hide the gray that Stephanie is causing.

The body count rises and at one point, the cops think Stephanie might have killed a man. Who are these thugs who are turning up dead and why are they dying. Throw in some vigilentes and you have a Stephanie Plum adventure.

All's well that ends well. Stephanie gets her man - both the FTA and Morelli and possibly Ranger.
On to book four...

Baby Clown

My poor son - he has to live down the utter humiliation that nearly surrounded his birth.

In August of 1991, I was 7 months pregnant with my third child and as big as a house, but for fun, I decided that I would attend a week long clown camp in Lansing. I knew the routine - I'd go into labor and 2 days later I'd go to the hospital and after 6 hours, I'd have a new baby. I wasn't due until October so my doctor said as long as I didn't do anything to strenuous, I was good to go. Lansing is about an hour and a half from my home. My husband drove me up on a Sunday afternoon and promised to return the following Saturday to pick me up.

The week was filled with learning the business end of clowning as well as performance aspects. We learned to juggle. You learn quickly when you're pregnant because you can't bend over a lot. Face-painting, balloon artistry and magic were also offered.

In the evenings we learned skits because on Friday afternoon and evening, we were going to be putting on performances to benefit local children's charities. I was scheduled to perform in a two-person skit early in the program.

Now we were staying in dorm rooms on the campus of Michigan State University and the beds were not the most comfortable even when you aren't pregnant. I was like a bug on it's back when it came to getting up in the morning.

Well, on Friday morning, I went through my usual rolling, wiggling and thrashing about to get out of bed. Finally, I was upright, but I felt like I'd been twisted and pulled like the balloon animals I'd learned how to make.

I waddled to the cafeteria, but nothing appealled to me, except ice cream and they didn't serve that at 8am so I settled for some juice and toast with jam and oh, the bacon smelled good so I ate some of that. And then I noticed they had blueberry pancakes so I had some of those.

By the time I gorged myself, not only did my back hurt, I was feeling kind of sick to my stomach, but I didn't have time to think about the pain. I think I rolled back to my room and applied my makeup, First a nylon to pull my hair back, then my white base, black eyebrows, black eye liner, add some eye shadow and blush, some red to my mouth, powder and then add the red nose and fake eye lashes. I was a pretty clown. Next came the costume - a maternity dress,and striped socks. My roommate helped me put on my size 25 hot pink clown shoes. I loved wearing them because they acted as a counter balance to my protruding stomach. Finally I added my wig and I was ready to go. We were going to meet and have a run-through rehearsal, a light lunch and then it was SHOW TIME.

I was nervous. I don't know why. The skit was simple enough and didn't involve anything physical; plus I'd performed it many times in the past. But still, something didn't feel right. I paced the hallway, ahhh...now I knew what was wrong. I must have slept wrong, every once in a while make back hurt, but if I streched or twisted it went away.

Rehearsal was a piece of cake. Many of the performers had never done a show before and they were nervous. Some of them were jumping up and down, others we running around and the noise - it seemed like everyone of those clowns was talking in their loudest most annoying clown voice. Someone brought us sandwiches and chips for lunch. Then the director called places, it was show time!!!

The other clowns seemed to grow even more frenzied. All I wanted to do is lay down. My back still hurt, but the show must go on. Our skit was called and out we bounced. Ok, my partner bounced and I waddled. I smiled extra big and performed our best. We waved as we scurried out of the center ring and once we got to the backroom, I found a chair and sat down.

A few minutes later, another clown came over and asked if I was ok. "Sure, I just slept wrong."
His clown name was Brit and he told me to wait right there, like I could disappear, and said, he'd be right back. A few minutes later, he returned, with the camp nurse. She was a real nurse, not a clown nurse. I just wanted to clarify that in case you pictured a clown dressed in a nurse's uniform carrying a large syringe.
"So what's going on?" She asked.
"Nothing, I just slept wrong last night. Got a little backache."
"Hmmm..."
"Well, I don't think she looks good" said Brit.
Now, how he could tell I didn't look good was beyond me. Every inch of my face was covered in heavy clown white - so yeah, I was pale, but that's how I was suppose to look.

The nurse started feeling around on my stomach and told Brit to go get a car. "You're going to the hospital," she said to me.
"No, I'm fine, just need an aspirin."
"Well, let's let the doctor decide that." She pulled me from the chair. She probably hurt her own back and should have used a pulley to hoist me up.

I got in the backseat, she got in the front. Brit waved at us as we pulled out of the parking lot.

She must have called ahead because I was quickly ushered into the hospital and didn't even have fill out any forms. We headed to the bank of elevators to take us to the third floor - labor and delivery.

When we got to the elevators, one was just boarding a woman ahead of us, but when she turned around and saw me, her eyes grew large and I thought if she's not having a heart attack already, if I get on this elevator she's definitely going to have one. So I waited for the next one.

When I stepped out on the third floor, the hall was lined with doctors and nurses. I was a parade of two - me and the nurse. We were assigned a room and the doctor on call wasted no time in getting me in a bed and my legs in stirrups. I didn't even have time to take off my shoes.

So there I lay, I could see my big pink clown shoes in the stirrups, a white sheet over my stomach. I did take off my wig, but I was wearing a white skullcap so I just looked like a baby bird's head - no hair. So pretty much I was pink shoes and a big white blob laying there.

As for the backache - it was labor pains. My contractions at that point were three minutes apart and I was far enough along for them to let me have the baby so they gave me something to stop labor.

Throughout the afternoon and evening, I had the best care. Doctors and nurses were stopping in to check on me. Finally about 8pm, one doctor came in and was checking my pulse. I asked who he was and he told me a cardiologist. My heart nearly stopped.

"What's wrong with me?" I shrieked.
"Nothing, I just wanted to see what you looked like."
I scowled at him.

At 10pm, I received a phone call from the security guard. "Hey, there's a bunch of clowns down here, said they wanted to see ya."

"They have my makeup remover! Let them in!"
"Oh you're the clown in labor," he chuckled. "I can't let them all in, but maybe one would be ok, it is after visiting hours."

"Thanks"
My roommate showed up a few minutes later and brought me some regular clothes and helped me remove my makeup. She sat with me for a little while and then headed back to the dorm.

The next day I was released with orders to stop clowning around. Very funny! My camp roommate drove me back to the campus where I waited for my husband to show up. He hadn't come up the night before because he said he couldn't find anyone to watch our daughters. I think he wanted to watch a ballgame.

Approximately, two months later, arriving two days late, my son Seth was born. There are no pictures of me in labor in my clown makeup because I was an angry, pregnant clown and I don't think anyone want to cross me. Give me a break, I was in labor, in my clown costume - you'd be a bit cranky too.

Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo

I just finished reading the new play Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo. The new play by Rajiv Joseph.

How to describe...hard to answer so I'll do my best in a brief synopsis. It is set in Baghdad in 2003. Two Marines are guarding an old, but hungry tiger. After taunting him, the tiger bites off the hand of one of the Marines (Tom) and the other mortal wounds the tiger.

Kev is then haunted by the tiger, who can speak. The tiger after dying is enlightened, but plague by his own guilt.

Tom is given a prosethic hand and visits Kev, the other Marine, who is now hospitalized after having a break-down. Tom wants his gold plated gun back, but by this time Kev doesn't have it.

Kev kills himself because he's feeling guilty about a lot of things.

There is an interpreter -Musa. He is haunted by the ghost of Uday Hussain, who walks around carrying his brother Usay's head. Musa ends up with the gold plated gun. By the way, Musa is feeling guilty about bringing his sister to the garden where he works, because Uday and Usay attack her there and Musa kills her.

Eventually, Musa takes Tom out to a lepers' colony where he kills Tom and leave him to die.

This isn't a play for those who are faint of heart or don't like hearing the f-bomb dropped every couple of lines. There isn't one truth,but many it is what each individual takes away themselves.

I liked the play; I wasn't overly fond of some of the choices, but I think there is more truth than fiction. I don't think this is probably a play that will be a hit in community theatres, but I can see regional theatres doing this and being successful.

This play was nominated for a 2010 Pulitzer Prize.

Mayonnaise

Tonight in culinary class we learned how to make mayonnaise. Yeah, the real stuff, not Miracle Whip, which I prefer. First off, mayonnaise is dangerous. You use raw eggs and if you don't use pasturized eggs, you could be eating...salmonella. So if you're going to try this - get pasturized eggs and still be careful. Homemade mayo doesn't store well. 2-3 days in the fridge. Personally, I'd throw out any leftovers.

Second, don't expect your mayo to be white in color - it will be yellow, possibly bright yellow. I thought it was a bit frightening.

Ok, so how do you make mayo?

Carefully crack 3 eggs and separate the yolks. Throw everything but the yolk away. Whisk or use a blender/food processor to froth. Add a bit of olive oil, slowly to the eggs, keep whisking; add some more oil - up to about a 1/4 cup and whisk until your arm falls off and so do the arms of 3 other people or until the yolk/oil mixture thickens. If you add the oil too quickly - the two liquids separate and you have to start over. Once the two starts to thicken you're past the oopsy stage. Next mix in 1 tablespoon of lemon juice (or white vinegar)beat like crazy. 1-2 tablespoons of dijon mustard (although I made mine with 1 teaspoon of dry mustard)and beat some more.

That is your basic mayo recipe. Tonight my group made two very different flavors - Jalepeno and Blueberry.

For the jalepeno, add a teaspoon of jalepeno juice and a pinch of white pepper. More if you want more zing than zip.

For the Blueberry - stop wrinkling your nose -it's quite tasty. Chop up about a quarter cup of blueberries, whisk. Add 1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon, 2 squirts of vanilla paste and a table spoon of sugar.

I took them to my parents' house after class and we dipped crackers in the jalepeno mayo - yum! and we drizzled the blueberry mayo over fruit - even better.

Will I do this again? Yes, but only if I can use a food processor - this beating by hand is terrible.

According to helpwithcooking.com "Mayonnaise is one of the five French "mother sauces", which means that is it the basis for a range of other sauces including garlic mayonnaise or "aioli", tartar sauce or thousand island dressing."

Oops!

Four weeks ago I decided that I didn't have enough to do so I went back to school. Hmmm...at the moment I'm teaching one 3 credit class, substitute teaching a couple of days a week plus taking care of the house and starting my gardens so why did I think I'd have time to take 6 credits??? I'm a mashocist I guess.

So for the next three weeks - I'm going to be persona non-existent, unless I find time to squeeze in some writing here and there.

So what am I taking - for some reason I thought I should learn to cook. This summer I'm taking culinary skills - we're learning to use our knives. It does take practice and for some, namely me - some luck. So far, I haven't taken off a finger. This class is 7.25 hours long and runs for 15 weeks. I'm tired just thinking about it.

My other class is SafeServ - it's a test prep class for taking and passing the food SafeServ test - it's a national certification and once you take it you're certified for 5 years. The other test is for alcohol and the certification is good for 2 years. I'll be taking both of these tests in the next couple of weeks - the class only runs until the end of June.

Two for the Dough - book review

Why did I wait so long to start reading this series? My husband doesn't know what to think when I'm reading, I'm scared one minute and laughing so hard that I nearly pee my pants.

Part of me thinks I am Stephanie Plum. I'm pretty clumsy and somewhat incompetent, especially if I was a bounty hunter. It's so easy to see myself in this character. Morelli and Ranger are both hot and dangerous - I'm leaning toward Ranger being her love interest...he reminds me a lot of my husband. Always there in the background watching and protecting.

And while I'm not from Jersey and we in the mid-west don't have the same fascination with funerals, I could appreciate Grandma Mazur and her friends. Hysterical.

I'm devouring this series and I'm several book reviews behind.

In a nutshell, slimy undertaker, missing coffins, arms dealers, bad guys and of course Stephanie is in the middle of things being blown up, shot up and driving the 53 Buick.

Did you rinse?

A few years ago, my son and I spent a week in Northern Michigan on Torch Lake. It was my first non-working vacation in many years and I was looking forward to spending time with friends.

Besides my son who was 13, my friend Beth had her two boys, who were slightly younger and her 13-year-old nephew. Beth's two brothers were also in and out as they came and went from work.

Beth and I were in charge of cooking and the boys were in charge of clean-up. The first day was great. We made pancakes for breakfast and afterwards everyone headed out to the lake. The sun was shining and it turned into the most beautiful day, except for one thing.

Beth and her brothers asked if I'd watch the kids while they took off for some family bonding. Not a problem. The boys were good and I wasn't worried. While the kids were playing on an inflatable raft, I rowed out past them in a small boat. I was probably 300 yards from shore, when the first stomach cramps hit. There was no warning cramps, the first one nearly doubled me over, followed by one that left me weak. I looked at the shore and the kids and knew I had to try to make it back.

I would row two or three strokes and then double over in pain. It felt like eternity before I reached the shore. I yelled out to the boys that I was going to run up to the cabin for a few minutes. Another powerful cramp hit from behind and I sunk to the ground, sweating and shaking. Somehow I managed to make it to the cabin and the bathroom.

By the time Beth and her brothers made it back, I was feeling much better, but I wasn't going to take a chance on the water yet. So I was sitting in a lawn chair, reading a book when they returned.

Beth and I cooked up dinner and the boys did the dishes and swept the floor. Beth's brother Pete and I were dating at the time and we took a stroll out on the pier. He asked if everything was all right, I seemed a little quiet. And told him of my late morning illness and laughed it off as sea sicknees.

The next morning was another beautiful day, I got up early and put on a pot of coffee. I knew the kids wouldn't be up for awhile so I grabbed a cup of coffee and went outside to enjoy some quiet time. Pete joined me a little while later with his own cup of coffee and soon Beth was awake. It was nice, just the three adults sitting outside drinking coffee and watching the lake.

We had nothing planned for the morning so we lounged around on the beach, reading and watching the boys play in the water, when once again I was hit with a massive stomach cramp. I made my way up to the cabin only to find that Pete was in similar distress. A few minutes later Beth came in complaining of stomach pains. Luckily for us, they passed after a couple of hours and we didn't have any bathroom accidents.

Day three was a repeat of the first two days. The adults got up early and had coffee, followed by breakfast for everyone and the boys doing the dishes; except, this time Pete helped with the dishes. A little later, the cramps returned. As I lay on the couch in agony, Pete said he thought he discovered the source of our ailments. While he was helping the boys, he noticed that they weren't rinsing the cups very well. He remember a story a friend of ours told about dish soap in a pie and put two and two together. The boys were poisoning the adults every morning with cups that still had traces of detergent. From that point on, the boys were under close observation to make sure the dishes were rinsed. Of course, they thought it was hysterically funny.

The first American Musical the brief version

One of the classes I teach is Introduction to theatre. So a few quick notes on what is considered the first American musical.

First, musicals as we know them today have evolved over a couple hundred years. They are not the off-spring of operas. Actually, operas are the off-spring of classical theatre. Musicals are related to European operettas.

This is not going to be an academic piece...just a few notes.

First, my definition of a musical is a story with spoken dialogue with singing and dancing. Oftentimes using a chorus.

With that in mind...it was late summer of 1866 when William Wheatley was producing a convoluted melodrama by Charles Barras. Not far away, a Parisian ballet company was readying their own show when a fire destroyed their theatre. The ballet company's manager came to Wheatley and the two decided to collaborate.

Barras wasn't happy with this arrangement, but Wheatley appealled to the man's greed and $1500 shut the guy up.

The production was called The Black Crook. The story was based on a Germany tale where a crook-backed man makes a deal with the devil to live one more year if he provides the devil with a fresh soul each year. This first person he tries to send to the Devil is Rudolphe. Rudolphe saves a dove who turns out to be a fairy queen who helps him get away. There is a minor love story involved and in the end the bad guy is sent to the devil, Rudolphe gets the girl and everyone is happy. Not a great storyline, but oh well.

The production opened on Sept. 12, 1866 at Niblo's Garden. A theatre seating 3,200 people. Now imagine if you will, this play being performed when every so often a 100 fleshy, under-dressed ballerinas dance across the stage to songs like the March of the Amazons or You Naughty Naughty Men. This was at a time when women covered everything and these dancers were in flesh-colored tights. For shame! And no one even cared that the show ran for a butt-numbing 5-1/2 hours.

The play was decried from puplits and newspaper editorials, but that just made people want to see it more. It was a smash success grossing over a million dollars and running for 475 performances, an unheard of number considering that a good run was about 15 performances. The show was revived 8 times on Broadway and various tours popped up across the country.

A few years prior to the success of the Black Crook another similar play hit the stage, but no remaining copies of it remain that I am aware of and it didn't have the staying power of the Black Crook.

So what made this so successful? The war. Women had been working in the hospitals, running businesses and working the war effort. No longer did they feel restricted to their homes. They had tasted freedom and weren't going to give it up. Also the Civil War forced the railroad system to improve and after the war, the railways continued to run more efficiently moving people and productions.

Personally, I think the scandal of under-dressed women on stage was a huge draw. Women dressed in pants and tights -feminine legs- something that hadn't been seen before. And that was a highly intoxicating drug.

How to boil water

The college where I teach now has a culinary arts program run by a great chef. I decided that this summer I had the time and the interest so I signed up for culinary skills.

During the first class - we learned how to boil water. I laughed when I heard the topic. Come on, how hard can it be. Put some water in a pan, put it on the stove until it bubbles right? Wrong! Boiling water is a skill if you're going to do it right.

First, why are you boiling water? Poaching, simmering or boiling. Poaching is gentle ...for delicate foods like eggs or fish. Simmering is a bit hotter with little tiny bubbles. Boiling is when the liquid is as hot as it's going to get and steam rises and evaporation begins to take place.
Never put a lid on a poach or simmer otherwise it might get too hot and actually boil.


When filling the pot with water, use cold tap water. My mom always told me this when I lived at home and I thought there was something wrong with our water heater. When I moved into town, I've been using hot tap water thinking it will boil faster. It won't. Plus the hot water will loosen up any contaminants in your pipes. If you look at the hot water when it begins to boil, you'll see all sorts of nasties or the water will change color. Nasty!


Adding salt doesn't make it boil faster. Actually, salt raises the boiling point, but it doesn't take that much longer to boil - a few seconds longer is all.

Make sure your pan is big enough so that it can bubble. When you put the pot on the stove, turn the heat to high. If you cover the pot it will boil a bit faster. Once the water is boiling turn down the heat. High heat will just cause it to evaporate faster.

Those little bubbles at the bottom are air bubbles and don't necessarily mean the water is boiling.

And it really doesn't matter if you watch it or not - it takes the same amount of time to boil water whether you watch it or not.

Nancy Drew wanna-be

Growing up, I wanted to be Nancy Drew. I wanted to have a cool convertible, best friends who would totally back me up and a boyfriend who was the quarterback of the college football team as well as being handsome. Plus, Nancy didn't have a job, but she always had money. She was nice and everyone loved her.

Well, it turns out I wasn't so much a Nancy Drew as I was Stephanie Plum from the Janet Evanovich series. I'm beginning to think maybe Evanovich has been tailing me to write her stories.

Anyway, the economy turned bad and I needed money and so did my friend Laura. We both loved solving mysteries albeit in our jammies sitting in bed. Laura was a whiz on research and so she decided that would be her job. I was supposedly more athletic so I'd do the leg work. Ummm...I should explain I'm 5'2" and was weighing in at about 180 at the time. I was also in my uhhhh...ahem...mid-40s. Not exactly Dawg the Bounty Hunter.

We asked around about what it would take - licensing, gun permits, DBAs. It seemed like a lot of red tape. Now, according to my husband, I haven't got any street smarts and not much in the common sense department either. It's a good thing we weren't a couple yet.

I was at my local watering hole talking about how I wanted to be a detective and bragging about how I had tracked down my birth-parents. Ok, so I left out the part about getting some help and I didn't actually find them, my searcher did, but that part of the story didn't lend itself to my credibility.

Well, wouldn't you know it. Someone actually listened to me and the next thing I knew, I had a case. Yep, an honest to goodness case. I had to track down this woman's boyfriend and find out if he was cheating and with whom.

I figured it shouldn't be tough - I figured wrong. I did my homework, got a name, googled an address and mapped it out. The problem was it was a ways away - out in the middle of some cornfield and the only time to catch him was at night and I have a mild case of night blindness.

My partner had backed out, so the woman who wanted me to track down her boyfriend went along for the ride. She wanted to catch him in the act I guess. My car was an old beat up bright blue Buick with a very distinguishing dent in the door. It also was a gas hog. So before we left town, we stopped at the gas station and filled up. We also got a few snacks and cigarettes and a couple of sodas. Sodas and stake-outs don't mix.

We drove out of town and into the blackness of a country night. The further we drove the darker it got. Finally, the asphalt gave way to a dirt road with very deep ditches on both sides. I figured it would prevent deer from jumping out at us if nothing else.

Now part of being a detective is being sneaky. The house was the only one on this stretch of road that basically went no where. I'm pretty sure people just don't cruise this road and my car was the only one we'd seen in miles. So I figured I'd better shut off my headlights. Unfortunately, I couldn't figure out how to do that. This car had a sensor so that when it got dark, the lights came on. I stopped the car in the middle of the road about 1/4 mile from the house I was suppose to be checking out, turned on all of the interior lights so I could see if there was a switch or a nob to turn off the lights. I pushed this one and my hazard lights flashed. Then I flicked another and the bright lights beamed to life. Yep, I was definitely in covert mode. Finally, I figured out how to turn off the lights and crawled down the road to the driveway, praying that I was driving straight enough not to land us in a ditch.

Now what? Turn in, sit out on the road, drive past? We sat there staring at the farmhouse that sat about 300 yards off the road. We both lit a cigarette and smoked. I had to pee, but outside of knocking on the door, my only other option was to find a spot and squat. I tried not to think of the pressure building.

"Well, what do you think?"

"I don't see his truck."

I sucked on my cigarette feeling very Columbo. I thought to myself, I need a trenchcoat and dark glasses. I was assessing the situation. I could sneak up to the house and peek in a window. If I saw the guy I'd run back and get her or I could just snap a few pictures and she could show him the next day as evidence. It was really dark outside and who knows what could be lurking out there.

"Do you want to get any closer?"

"Nah", said the woman. "He ain't here. He's back in town. I just wanted to know where the bitch lived."

She could've told me that sooner, like back at the gas station. I would've drawn her a map. My bladder was now closer to bursting and it was a half hour drive back into town.

I put the car in drive and pulled away. Yep, I was a real Nancy Drew - I solved the case and everyone loved me. And just like Nancy I didn't get paid cash - I got a couple of free beers. I just can't wait until my next big adventure.

One for the Money Janet Evanovich

I must be one of the only bookies on the planet who loves mysteries and hadn't read any of the Plum series. What was I waiting for? Growing up, I wanted to be Nancy Drew. She was so perfect and everything always worked out and she drove a convertible and had a cute boyfriend. Well, Nancy Drew, move aside; I didn't grow up to be you. No, I grew up to be Stephanie Plum.
Much like Stephanie, I lost my job and was desperate for work. My friend and I decided to become P.I.s. She backed out; I had a case. But alas, it didn't last long and I realize now, after reading One for the Money - it's probably a good thing.

Evanovich captures reality. Who hasn't been so desperate for a job, you take whatever comes along? I know I have. Stephanie is what a real woman is - she wants to be brave and tough, but unlike Nancy Drew, she has faults. She's a bit reckless; she is afraid, but yet, she fumbles on.

This is the first of the number books. We meet Stephanie, get her background, meet her family. I know they're Italian, but everyone has a Grandma Mazur - the granny who's just a bit off. We also meet Joe Morelli - who she had sex with once back in high school and then a few years later ran him down with her father's Buick and broke his leg. Every woman has fantasized about doing something similar to an ex. Joe ends up being a cop who's wanted for murder and has skipped out on his bail bond. It's Stephanie's job to bring him in. He's streeet smart and mean, she's not.

While she's hunting him, he's busy saving her from a psychopath boxer who rapes and tortures women. The boxer is a key player in the mystery surrounding Morelli.

This should be a warning book to all of us Nancy Drew wanna-bes; PI work is dangerous. Stephanie meets some pretty bad people - she's nearly raped, blown up and gets shot in the butt. But in the end - she gets her man in more ways than one.

Like a good teacher - I looked up the book on line and see that Katherine Heigl will be playing Stephanie Plum in the movie version which is set to come out in January 2012. Can't wait - in the meantime I have a lot more Stephanie Plum stories to read.

The day I got beat up by a little old lady

September 11, 2001 wasn't a good day. It started out good, but by 2:30 in the afternoon, I was a basketcase. I worked as a radio news director. We watched the Twin Towers come under attack. My news monitor was going crazy as was my afternoon guy. The man showed up in fatigues and boots with a crazed look in his eye. All I wanted to do was pick up my kids from school and hug them tight.

My girls were in junior high at the time so I picked them up at 2:30. The sun was shining and if you didn't have the radio on in the car, it was a perfect fall day. We didn't talk much about the national disaster, but the girls knew that I would probably be at the office a lot until the crisis passed.

My son was attending elementary school and was dismissed an hour later. I knew that fighting the crowds of parents on a normal day was hectic and with all that had happened today it would be worse. So the girls and I headed to the school early so I could get a parking space.

I hadn't told Seth I was picking him up so the girls offered to run up to the building and wait. They wanted to say hi to some of their old teachers anyway. So the girls hopped out of the car and headed up the sidewalk. That's when I first heard the honking. I didn't think too much of it, someone honking hello to someone they knew. I knew I had about 20 minutes before school was out and since I was parked just past the school I knew I wouldn't have a problem getting out. Parents were starting to line the street, waiting for their children. I picked up a book I was reading and settled in while I waited for the kids to return.

The honking continued. Weird, I thought. I turned the page. The honking was more insistent now. I glanced in my rearview mirror at the van behind me. The woman was gesturing at me. I looked around. I was parked correctly; I noticed that she had enough room to park behind me or in front of me for that matter. There were still some parking spaces across the street (it was a one way street with parking on both sides). I went back to my book. The honking continued and I, continued to ignore her. She couldn't possibly be honking at me, I hadn't done anything wrong.

Just then, the woman appeared at my window, which was down because it was a warm day.

"Didn't you hear me honking?"

"Yeah."

"Then why didn't you move?"

"Because I'm parked legally and my kids know where I am."

"You need to move."

"No," I said, and went back to reading my book.

"You bitch!" Screamed the woman. At the same time, she reached through the window of my car and punched me full force in the mouth. She then spun around and marched back to her van.

I jumped out of my car and raced back, fully intending to get her license plate. I realized that I had positioned myself between my car and her van and at that moment, my life passed in front of my eyes as I envisioned the woman ramming her van into me pinning me between the vehicles. I jumped to the safety of the sidewalk.

She sat in her van scowling at me for a minute longer and I stood stunned, blood dripping from my split and now swollen lip. I figured I'd better get some ice for it and started walking to the school. About that time, a man yelled across the street at me to come over to his car. He told me that he had witnessed the assault and had called the police.

"Oh great," I groaned. I knew almost every cop on the force. I was hoping they sent someone I didn't know well at least. Three police cars came racing down the street lights flashing, but thankfully no sirens. They skidded to a stop in front of us because my good Samaritan was waving to them. Now a small crowd had started to gather. My lip was throbbing and still bleeding.

"Look," said the man, "that woman injured her."

I glanced at the cops surrounding me and grimaced. Two of them I knew well, the third one I had seen on ocassion. This was such an embarassment. I looked down and noticed that I had dripped blood on the front of my shirt. My eyes were glassy from shock. No one expects to be punched in the face while reading a Harlequin romance novel in their car in front of an elementary school.

Great role model for the kids. They were doing a big thing at this school on tolerence and solving problems with words not violence.

"So what happened?"

The good Samaritan told the cop how he saw the whole thing from across the street. How I was just sitting there when this woman popped me in the face. He explained how he saw her go into the house in front of where her van was parked. John, one of the cops who I had known for years, sauntered over to the house and I watched him knock on the door. I hadn't even seen her get out of her van.

The second cop asked me to relate my side of the story which I did, with a speech impediment as my lip was now double in size. All I wanted was some ice and some water.

The third cop went over and looked at the vehicles. The dismissal bell rang and the kids began pouring out of the building. From where I stood, I could see my kids heading to my car. I watched as their eyes grew large when they saw the cop and they started running toward the car. I knew they feared the worst. They told me later that they thought I'd been arrested. See, not even my kids expected me to get punched in the mouth. Obviously the officer explained that I was ok, I was just talking to another cop and I'd be right back.

I saw John heading back across the street, grinning. "So why did you tick off that 70-year-old lady?"

"What? I didn't...70?" I wasn't making any sense but neither was he.

"Yeah, she said you told her no, with attitude."

"I told her no I wasn't moving my car and then ignored her. She's 70?"

"Yeah, you got beat-up by a little old lady." and he laughed. "I thought you were suppose to be tough."

"I am, well sorta...you just don't go around hitting people for no reason. There were plenty of parking spaces."

"She said she wanted yours and you wouldn't give it to her."

"I was there first." I think I whined a bit on that one.

"Well, we'll be in touch if we don't have any more questions. And don't be ticking off grandmas the next one might give ya a black eye." John chuckled and I walked back to my car, my lip throbbing with each step.

The kids laughed about it. By the time I returned to work, the rumor had it that I had been slashed by a crazed woman and had to have stitches in my face. Not true, a bag of ice took the swelling down quickly, a little salve took away the sting and I was as good as new in a half hour.

I wish I had a morale to this story - but I don't.

As for a resolution - I am tough. She wrote me a letter apologizing and dropped it off at my house. I found it stuck in my door when I came home from work one day. Of course I freaked. The cops had written the report up using the name they knew me by - my radio name. My address/phone number were listed under my married name. Can you say stalker? I bought some pepper spray and I pressed charges for assault and battery and stalking. That little old grandma had to go to anger management classes and do community service as well as pay a fine. I heard she got two years probation too. So I guess the morale is, if you want a parking space, don't mess with me!

Cowboy Casserole

Since I'm starting my new...oh let's call it what it really is...hobby du jour...I'm pulling out some of my favorite recipes complete with my comments because a recipe is just a starting point to a really good dish.

Prep Time: 5 Min
Cook Time: 20 Min
Ready In: 25 Min

Ingredients
1/2 pound bacon
1 pound ground beef
1 small onion, chopped
2 (15 ounce) cans baked beans with pork
1/3 cup barbeque sauce
1 (7.5 ounce) package refrigerated biscuit dough

a few suggestions - the refrigerated biscuits are ok, but I like to use drop biscuits like Bisquick with a dash of garlic salt added.
Also I add a bit of seasoning to the ground beef while cooking.
Some chopped peppers adds a nice flavor and if you like mushrooms add those with the baked beans.

Directions
1.Cook bacon in a large skillet or Dutch oven over medium heat until evenly browned. Drain, and cut into bite size pieces. Set aside. Add hamburger and onion to the skillet, and cook until no longer pink, and the onion is tender. Drain.
2.Stir bacon, baked beans and barbeque sauce into the ground beef, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium low, and place biscuits in a single layer over the top of the mixture. Cover, and simmer for about 10 minutes, or until the biscuits are done. Place two biscuits on each plate, and spoon beans over.

This is simple and tasty. I found the original recipe on Allrecipes.com and then played around with additional ingridients.

My rating system - hubby has one serving - it's edible
hubby has two servings - it's ok to pretty good
hubby has three or more servings - it's fantastic

This one scored 3 servings.

Mortal Danger, Ann Rule

I took a break from the Nancy Drew books, but still didn't change the genre. I love mysteries and true crime fits right in.

With that said, this is the best Ann Rule book I've read. I felt that in her other true-crime books, her writing was stilted and dry. It was hard to get involved in the stories and worse yet, hard to care about the people. This one, feels more like she's telling the stories of the victims. I worry about women in the first story - Mortal Danger. This may be because the first victim survived and could tell of the horror she faced. But the storytelling continued throughout the book. This book like most of her previous books is based on true crimes from the Northwest; She has selected several stories all but one are about lone women who are abused and killed. One involves a couple. Like life, sometimes the why of the crime is revealed and sometimes it's not.
The title story - Mortal Danger, seemed to drag in places and is lengthy. I think some of the lesser details could have been omitted in order to keep the story moving. The next story was about a couple who were found murdered in their home. This story was move concise. There are several more, But I think Rule's best is one of the shorter stories - "If I can't have you" - it was particularly chilling. A woman marries a man in the Netherlands, after the wedding his domineering side comes out, she leaves and returns to America but he stalks her to her home. Eventually, he kills her.
I'm so glad that Rule has become a storyteller as well as a reporter. I'm looking forward to reading her next book.

Culinary Notes

I have to read 5 chapters before next week, from the book Professional Cooking 7th ed. by Wayne Gisslen. I'm going to highlight the chapter hopefully I'll remember it better if I share it with someone else.
A History of Modern Food Service:
Cooking is as much a science as an art. cooking techniques aren't based on rules that chefs made up, but they're based on the understanding of how different foods react when heated in various way, when combined in various porportions and so forth.

The Origins of Classical and Modern Cuisine:
I found this section really interesting. I learned that modern food service is said to have begun shortly after the middle of the 18th century. Food production in France was controlled by guilds and people held licenses to prepare specific foods. In 1765 a Parisian named Boulanger began advertising he served soups, which he called restaurants or restoratives - which meant fortifying. The guilds challenged in court but he won.
The French Revolution in 1789 also changed food service. Up til then, the great chefs were employed by the nobles, after the revolution they found themselves out of jobs and the revolutionary government abolished the guilds so these chefs opened restaurants.
An important invention - the stove changed the organization of kitchens in the mid-eighteenth century. The kitchen was then divided into thirds - the rotisserie - the meat chef; the oven under the control of the pastry chef and the stove run by the cook who was in charge of the whole kitchen.

Careme
the greatest chef of the period following the French Revolution. His many books contain the first systematic account of cooking principles, recipes and menu making. He was the first real celebrity chef - he was famous as the creator of elaborate, elegant display pieces and pastries.
He emphasized procedure and order. His goal was to create more lightness and simplicity in his dishes. The same principles are still used by professional cooks around the world today.

Escoffier (1846-1935) the greatest chef of his time. considered the father of twentieth-century cooking. He made two main contributions.
1) the simplification of classical cuisine and menus. he called for order and diversity and emphasized the careful selection of one or two dishes per course. Those dishes that followed one another harmoniously and delighted the taste with their delicacy and simplicity. Lerning cooking according to Escoffier, begins with learning a relatively few basic procedures and understanding basic ingredient.
2) he reorganized the kitchen reulting in a streamlined workplace.

Modern Technology:
today's kitchen look very different than those of Escoffier day in though our basic cooking principles are the same. The process of simplification and refinement is ongoing, adapting classical cooking to modern conditions and tastes.

I never thought of food service as having much of a history, but there's more and I'll find some highlights. I have to know this stuff in a week so hang on and I'll share with you what I learn.

Nancy Drew #4 The Mystery at Lilac Inn

The fourth Nancy Drew book in the series and so far my favorite. Our heroine is stumbling into one mystery after another while trying to just enjoy a little vacation with her friends. Premise: Nancy and Helen visit their friend Emily who is getting married soon. Em and her fiance, Dick, have bought an old inn and are renovating it, but a series of unfortunate accidents could cause the opening to be delayed. Diamonds are stolen, the cabin Nancy is staying in is blown up, Helen is knocked unconscious...it is one tragic event after another - not to mention that there is someone impersonating Nancy back in River Heights. Nancy trails a maid, gets kidnapped and is nearly killed - although nothing happens to her more seriously than a bad scare. Bad guys were nicer back in the 30s and 40s I suppose. In the end Nancy solves the mystery that has little to do with the Inn and more to do with her and her father and an angry ex-con.
The story is a bit far-fetched, but it was written in a different time for a much different audience than today's young adults. No wonder I wanted to be Nancy when I was growing up - solve mysteries, out smart the bad guys, drive around in a cute little convertible all while looking good and telling eligible young men that I am just too busy solving mysteries to be bothered going out.
I've already purchased book #5 and will start it shortly. Long live the Nancy Drew books.

Nancy Drew #3 The Bungalow Mystery

In my quest to read (re-read) all of the Nancy Drew mysteries this year, I have just completed The Bungalow Mystery. I remember reading this one when I was a kid. Once again, it boggles my mind how dependent I've become on my cell phone. Every time Nancy goes off to investigate or sleuth as she calls it, I keep thinking - use your cell phone. Her car breaks down, today she'd be whipping out the cell phone and calling Triple A or using her GPS. Because Nancy doesn't have these modern day devices, it heightens the suspense. I have to chuckle at the language. I teach college English and Communications and wonder if any of my students have ever used "bade" or sleuth for that matter. Considering these are young adult novels, the language is above what most kids read today.
Once again "Carolyn Keene" uses a lot of description of food, clothes and is light on descriptions of other things. It is apparent that these books were meant to appeal to young ladies who were going to grow up to be housewives and cook beautiful meals for their husbands and they'd do it all in high heels shoes while wearing pearls.
The story is good and keeps me reading. I won't go into detail about the story line; I'll just say that once again Nancy stumbles upon someone needing help and comes to the rescue. This is the second book where Nancy rescues an orphan.

Nancy Drew #2 The Hidden Staircase

One has to wonder how much editting was done to make this series seem plausible in today's technological world. I looked at the copywrite date 1930, and wondered - did women really have this much freedom then or were they patted on the head and patronized? Did people have phones in their homes? There is never any mention of TV, but the radio plays a part in this book. Would they drive convertibles? Why doesn't Nancy have a real job? So are these books a meshing of several generations?

I think because Nancy doesn't have a cell phone or a computer to help her out, she appears smarter and more resourceful. The books are creepier because you know she's all alone, no cell phone to call for help. And if she did, the mystery wouldn't be as intriguing.

This book finds Nancy helping her friend Helen and her aunt and great-grandmother find a "ghost" who's haunting their family home. Meanwhile Nancy's father has been kidnapped and Nancy must find him.

As with all Nancy Drew stories - these are melodramas. The good guys win and the bad guys are justly punished. The bad guys are caught without anyone getting hurt - no shoot out, no chase and once they realize they've been caught, they 'fess up and go off with a police officer.

One thing that I find comical is the description of the meals - the whole menu is described from the fruit cup appetizer to the entree and dessert. I wonder why so much detail is placed on the food when barely a mention is made of her clothes - a skirt or a white blouse. Nor is there a lot of place description in comparison.

I do like how there is just enough suspense to make me catch my breath, but not enough to scare me so I can't sleep at night.

My quest is to read all 61 Nancy Drew novels in 2011. I started a bit late in the year, but I can read them in a day or two so I shouldn't have any problem unless I run out of money. I am reading them on my Nook.

Nancy Drew myster #1 The Secret of the Old Clock

I loved Nancy Drew when I was growing up. We didn't have a lot of money and the books were hard cover so they were a lot of money. My goal now that I'm older is to read all of the series. I just finished my first one - The Secret of the Old Clock and I must say I still at my age - got a little nervous for Nancy.

These books will take the reader back to a day before computers and cell phones so getting locked in a closet was a real danger. I love her convertible and wonder if my husband might have made it. LOL

She may be a bit too nice and too friendly - but it was a different era and people were friendlier and nicer. It's on to the Hidden Staircase now.

4-1/2 stars out of 5

Book Reviews

I used to be a voracious reader. I'd read anything and everything. I'd wake up in the morning and read thecereal box if there wasn't anything else to read.

When other kids got in trouble, their parents would make them read or wouldn't let them watch TV. Not mine, my punishment - no books! Once they even punished me by making me watch TV with them.

But life has gotten in the way. I have papers to read and grade. Lesson plans to prep, textbooks to read and plan from and so reading for fun has fallen by the wayside. I've decided to change that.

After our local bookstore closed and the nearest bookstore was a 45 minute drive, I figured it would be cheaper to invest in an e-reader. I bought a Barnes and Noble Nook which I love. If I finish a book and I'm still not tired - no worry, just go shopping on the device, find a book and download it. An added plus, I can change the size of the font so my eyes don't get tired any more.

So this has been my introduction to my book reviews.

Culinary Day 1

I love to create and I love food, so going into the culinary program at school seemed logical. Plus it was free because I already work there. Ok the books weren't free and even with my discount came to $200. OUCH! I don't think I'd sell back the culinary skills book anyway - it's a how to manuel with recipes and lots of diagrams and pictures.

We met the teacher; I think he's like 12 and fresh out of culinary school himself. Sometime in the next two weeks, I have to go buy my culinary uniform - white jacket, black pants and hat. What's wrong with that picture??? Me and white don't work - EVER. I'll spill something on it, cut myself and bleed on it, catch it on fire...white is a bad idea. Black pants...also not a good idea. I have two white cats. There is cat hair every in my house and car. I don't care if I vacuum constantly I'll still have cat hair on those black pants. The hair gets in the dryer; it's on my clothes and so it gets in my car...another bad bad idea.

I never thought I'd say this, but thank you Wendy's. I knew most of the stuff we covered today because of the 12 years I spent working for that company. I had to take various tests to get into management and not a lot has changed in the past 16 years.

This class is going to focus on - cutting! Yikes! To pass the class I have to cut up a chicken - gross. I suppose it could be worse. I could have to pluck and gut it. Let it be known that chicken terrifies me. It's full of really nasty bacteria, it's slimey and it stinks. I don't want to touch it. I'll eat it, if it's breaded in a sandwich from McDonald's or I get a bucket from KFC, but I don't want to be responsible for possibly killing someone.

Another thing we're going to do is cook a banquet featuring a diabetic menu. That will be interesting I suppose or dull. I listen to my diabetic friends complain about what they can't eat - no breads, no sugars, those are my mainstay.

We're also going to focus on soups, sauces and vegetables. Hmmm...I'm just glad I'm not eating this stuff. I'm not a big fan of soup. The only sauces I use are spaghetti sauce and that's easy - go to the store, buy a jar of Ragu and put it in a pan. Voila - the only sauce needed. A for vegetables -gross. I don't eat no stinkin' vegetables - maybe corn once in a while. I hope we don't have to eat this stuff or I'll be vomiting regularly.

I did learn one thing - the broiler is not meant to cook food - only sear it quickly - hmmm...I'll have to remember not to cook my steaks in that.

Next week we have a test over appliances so I'm going to go make some flashcards so I can practice identifying them.