annie blog

What to Cook?
I don’t know about y’all, but the approaching summer makes me wonder what I should cook. I know, I know, of all times of the year to hit a cooking roadblock….but it always happens. I guess that I sort of enjoy fall and winter cooking and baking better than summer cooking and therefore make more of an effort. Summer….it’s hot outside, the children are starving, there are picky people here, and, did I mention that it’s hot? So, when I saw this page linked on another blog, I knew that I had to mention it here. Summer Express: 101 Meals Ready in 10 Minutes or Less was in the New York Times last summer. Check it out. Is is doable for a family of 6? Probably not some of these recipes, and certainly not in the time limit. But I read it and it sort of expanded my thoughts about summer cooking, anyway.

Perhaps there is some hope for us and we won’t have sandwiches everyday, after all.

Another cooking resource that I always enjoy reading and almost always using for recipes is the Cook’s Illustrated Free Email Newsletter. It comes every other week and is always full of their most popular recipes. Also, it always features a seasonal or holiday menu and usually has product or appliance reviews, as well. I’ve made so many successful recipes from this newsletter. Try it for awhile and see if you like it. You have nothing to lose since it’s FREE.

Now, what have y’all been cooking lately?

Swell Season
Jon and I went to see Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova last night. It was fun.

Those Irish are such a chatty lot. Both the opening band and, of course, the main act were led by Irish folks and they all talked a lot about the songs and their meanings, etc. This could have been kind of frustrating, especially if the artists took themselves too seriously and were too lengthy in their descriptions/ruminations. But they weren’t like that, especially Glen. He has a good sense of humor along with sort of an artistic interpretation of things. His ramblings were all quite entertaining.

One of the funniest things he said during the concert was when he noticed that there was an elderly lady in the audience. He apologized for singling her out and begged her pardon for some of his language, hoping that it wasn’t offensive to her. Her daughter yelled back that the lady was half-Irish anyway so not to worry. That was a funny exchange.

As far as the music goes….well it was all really enjoyable. But, I have to say, as good as his band is, I liked the songs that he sang by himself best. Of all the songs he sang, I liked the first one, Say It To Me Now, the best of all.

I love to people watch at concerts. And each time we go to a concert — which is so very, very seldom, I find myself reflecting on past concerts that went to in college and since. I especially found myself doing this last night as Jon and I found ourselves on the floor in front of the stage which is a place that we used to occupy more often say, fifteen years ago than anytime recently. What an old fogey I have become. I really think that sitting down helps me enjoy music so much more. Who would have known there is such a connection between one’s hiney and one’s ears?

Anyway, it was a nice evening. But the old fogey here is done with concerts for a good long while — that is, unless Paul Westerberg comes to town.

Swell Season
Jon and I went to see Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova last night. It was fun.

Those Irish are such a chatty lot. Both the opening band and, of course, the main act were led by Irish folks and they all talked a lot about the songs and their meanings, etc. This could have been kind of frustrating, especially if the artists took themselves too seriously and were too lengthy in their descriptions/ruminations. But they weren’t like that, especially Glen. He has a good sense of humor along with sort of an artistic interpretation of things. His ramblings were all quite entertaining.

One of the funniest things he said during the concert was when he noticed that there was an elderly lady in the audience. He apologized for singling her out and begged her pardon for some of his language, hoping that it wasn’t offensive to her. Her daughter yelled back that the lady was half-Irish anyway so not to worry. That was a funny exchange.

As far as the music goes….well it was all really enjoyable. But, I have to say, as good as his band is, I liked the songs that he sang by himself best. Of all the songs he sang, I liked the first one, Say It To Me Now, the best of all.

I love to people watch at concerts. And each time we go to a concert — which is so very, very seldom, I find myself reflecting on past concerts that went to in college and since. I especially found myself doing this last night as Jon and I found ourselves on the floor in front of the stage which is a place that we used to occupy more often say, fifteen years ago than anytime recently. What an old fogey I have become. I really think that sitting down helps me enjoy music so much more. Who would have known there is such a connection between one’s hiney and one’s ears?

Anyway, it was a nice evening. But the old fogey here is done with concerts for a good long while — that is, unless Paul Westerberg comes to town.

Swell Season
Jon and I went to see Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova last night. It was fun.

Those Irish are such a chatty lot. Both the opening band and, of course, the main act were led by Irish folks and they all talked a lot about the songs and their meanings, etc. This could have been kind of frustrating, especially if the artists took themselves too seriously and were too lengthy in their descriptions/ruminations. But they weren’t like that, especially Glen. He has a good sense of humor along with sort of an artistic interpretation of things. His ramblings were all quite entertaining.

One of the funniest things he said during the concert was when he noticed that there was an elderly lady in the audience. He apologized for singling her out and begged her pardon for some of his language, hoping that it wasn’t offensive to her. Her daughter yelled back that the lady was half-Irish anyway so not to worry. That was a funny exchange.

As far as the music goes….well it was all really enjoyable. But, I have to say, as good as his band is, I liked the songs that he sang by himself best. Of all the songs he sang, I liked the first one, Say It To Me Now, the best of all.

I love to people watch at concerts. And each time we go to a concert — which is so very, very seldom, I find myself reflecting on past concerts that went to in college and since. I especially found myself doing this last night as Jon and I found ourselves on the floor in front of the stage which is a place that we used to occupy more often say, fifteen years ago than anytime recently. What an old fogey I have become. I really think that sitting down helps me enjoy music so much more. Who would have known there is such a connection between one’s hiney and one’s ears?

Anyway, it was a nice evening. But the old fogey here is done with concerts for a good long while — that is, unless Paul Westerberg comes to town.

Did Y’all Feel the Earthquake Today?
I did. Which is odd, since it is the smallest one that we’ve had lately. Here is a story about it all.

Now I’m going to have that Carole King song stuck in my head today.

Did Y’all Feel the Earthquake Today?
I did. Which is odd, since it is the smallest one that we’ve had lately. Here is a story about it all.

Now I’m going to have that Carole King song stuck in my head today.

Did Y’all Feel the Earthquake Today?
I did. Which is odd, since it is the smallest one that we’ve had lately. Here is a story about it all.

Now I’m going to have that Carole King song stuck in my head today.

More Bragging
but you know, I have to do it when I can.

This time it is about my oldest son. In music class at his school, each child is given the chance to sing aloud, alone, in front of the class. The song is the free choice of the child and the music teacher tapes the performance.

Well, my oldest. He can sing whatever, WHATEVER he wants. And he can sing it eerily, sometimes, exactly as he heard it. For instance, he can do a fantastic Nell Carter song. But that isn’t what he chose to do. Actually, I’m shocked that he sang a song loud enough for anyone to hear. Because, even though he sings loudly all the time at home, singing in front of — or with– others is just something that he doesn’t do.

He must have been feeling confident or something that day because he sang Yackety Yack. He sang it really well. And when he was done, all of his classmates were on their feet, yelling and clapping and shouting for an encore. Typing it out almost makes me mist up. Because it was all so normal. And because he was showing some of the gift that he has been given. Not everyone has that ear. Not everyone has that voice. Almost everyone has normal. Sometimes he gets close.

More Bragging
but you know, I have to do it when I can.

This time it is about my oldest son. In music class at his school, each child is given the chance to sing aloud, alone, in front of the class. The song is the free choice of the child and the music teacher tapes the performance.

Well, my oldest. He can sing whatever, WHATEVER he wants. And he can sing it eerily, sometimes, exactly as he heard it. For instance, he can do a fantastic Nell Carter song. But that isn’t what he chose to do. Actually, I’m shocked that he sang a song loud enough for anyone to hear. Because, even though he sings loudly all the time at home, singing in front of — or with– others is just something that he doesn’t do.

He must have been feeling confident or something that day because he sang Yackety Yack. He sang it really well. And when he was done, all of his classmates were on their feet, yelling and clapping and shouting for an encore. Typing it out almost makes me mist up. Because it was all so normal. And because he was showing some of the gift that he has been given. Not everyone has that ear. Not everyone has that voice. Almost everyone has normal. Sometimes he gets close.

More Bragging
but you know, I have to do it when I can.

This time it is about my oldest son. In music class at his school, each child is given the chance to sing aloud, alone, in front of the class. The song is the free choice of the child and the music teacher tapes the performance.

Well, my oldest. He can sing whatever, WHATEVER he wants. And he can sing it eerily, sometimes, exactly as he heard it. For instance, he can do a fantastic Nell Carter song. But that isn’t what he chose to do. Actually, I’m shocked that he sang a song loud enough for anyone to hear. Because, even though he sings loudly all the time at home, singing in front of — or with– others is just something that he doesn’t do.

He must have been feeling confident or something that day because he sang Yackety Yack. He sang it really well. And when he was done, all of his classmates were on their feet, yelling and clapping and shouting for an encore. Typing it out almost makes me mist up. Because it was all so normal. And because he was showing some of the gift that he has been given. Not everyone has that ear. Not everyone has that voice. Almost everyone has normal. Sometimes he gets close.