I am worried about America’s youth.
We are hosting two Japanese middle school students. They are 14 year-old boys. In their spare time, they do traditional calligraphy(they mix their own ink!) and fold amazingly intricate origami. When my son Lewis has spare time, he plays Halo3.
The Japanese students also play musical instruments, can speak English (kind of) and unfailingly carry their dishes to the sink after every meal. They also always flush the toilet.
Last night, these boys cooked a traditional Japanese meal for my family- udon noodles, scallions, seaweed and some other stuff that I couldn’t identify. It was delicious. If my son went to Japan, he would cook Pop Tarts for his host family. Yeah, I know – they’d probably love them.
Here, for the benefit of America’s youth, is a tutorial on how to fold an origami crane.
I hate spring. It’s a time of new life. A time when the world awakes from its winter slumber. Flowers bloom, birds sing and the green grass grows all around. Except on my front yard.
This is my "lawn."
My yard is mostly dirt and some scraggly weeds. My neighbors all have green, lush grass. Even the neighbor whose lawn abuts mine. Her grass is healthy and there is a visible line where my property begins and the grass ends. It’s not like I haven’t tried. I’ve fertilized, limed, added nitrogen and sowed pounds and pounds of grass seed. I’ve watered and I’ve watch the seeds sprout and grow, only to turn brown and die.
I suspect that my lawn is cursed. Perhaps it is situated over ancient Native American burial grounds and the spirits are angry.
So, I hate spring because when the snow melts it reveals my utter failure to grow grass.
This year, maybe even on Saturday, I am going to dig up the sparse vegetation that is masquerading as a lawn and replace it with something more sustainable – like high bush blueberries, cement or lawn ornaments.
Meanwhile, I welcome any suggestions from those of you who have conquered your own small corner of this planet.
The original bromantics - Martin & Lewis
With the recent release of the Paul Rudd’s movie “I Love You, Man”, there’s been a lot of talk about friendship between guys…bromance, as it has been dubbed. Oh, fine. First they started sneaking into our hair salons, then they wanted to borrow our moisturizer now, they want friends. Just like us girls.
My husband has been away on a business trip. While he’s gone (see January 9th post), I seize the opportunity to have quality girlfriend time. That means getting together to gab over a glass of wine, walking to Starbucks, watching Desperate Housewives and…did I mention wine?
Last night over simple supper of curried turkey burgers (no bun) on arugala and wine, my friend Beate looked around my kitchen and said “This is so ro-tic.”
“Ro-tic?” I questioned.
“Yeah,” she replied. “Romantic without the man.”
It must have been the burgers talking….
Curried Turkey Burgers
1lb ground turkey breast (make sure it’s breast)
1/2finely chopped onion
1 peeled and diced Granny Smith apple
3T curry powder (or to taste)
2 tsp tumeric
salt and pepper to taste
Gently mix apples, onion and spices with turkey. Divide into burgers (I would make two whopping ones). Heat cast iron skillet and coat lightly with canola oil. Cook burgers until they are done (about 3 minutes on each side – depending on thickness). Serve with a dollop of plain yogurt and mango chutney on a bed of fresh baby arugala.
Stock markets crash…
It’s amazing what can happen in two seconds.
Lewis and his tennis teammates crash here everyday before their practice. I lay out some snacks, eavesdrop on their teenage boy banter and drive them to practice. Fortunately, I had already dropped them off when I slammed into the back of a Nissan Pathfinder. No major damage to the SUV, major damage to the Hyundai.
I didn’t have my camera with me, so this is not my car, but it is a Hyundai and well…you get the picture.
How sick is it that one of the first things that crossed my mind was “Gotta take a picture of this for the blog.”?