Story in Drips and Dips

My daughter gifted me with a Hear Your Story book for Mother's Day.  I'm determined to complete the prompts and extra pages to expound, as one does, by her birthday (a milestone one) in five weeks.  My initial thought was that this was an easy assignment, which is why I didn't start right away. 

It has proven to be anything but.  

It wasn't long before I realized I hadn't said (a lot) out loud.  

Also, I realized that there were limbs of the family that are completely unknown to me and likely to remain so.   

Still, I'm happy to fill in these pages for her.  I hope she follows the nuggets to this space and perhaps whatever journals I still have on paper at the end, but she is not likely to do that.  It will be okay, she'll discover what may offer comfort, I trust.  

Me, Kindergarten

Happy September! 

And, So

Throwback / Flashback 1978*

There are two recipes, written on yellow index cards, affixed to my refrigerator with magnets.  The intent was to entice my daughter (the professional cook) to prepare one or the other or better, both of these recipes.  

They are: Cajun Deviled Eggs and Apple Cinnamon Chimichangas.  

Both have manageable ingredients lists and steps.  Both tout prep times of. . . well, I didn't even include the prep times on the index cards so I presume both were / are very short. 

Either, both are recipes I could pull off.  While not a professional cook, I've done okay over the years.  I may have mentioned a time or two that I never enjoyed cooking.  It was necessary. I did it.  I achieved some measure of competency through the years.   

I don't have to wait for my daughter, the professional cook, to prepare either (or both) of these recipes.  

But, I will.  

Both recipes will remain affixed to the refrigerator with magnets.  

*art class assignment: zipper study

Time Is On Our Side! ?

 My daughter will celebrate another birthday tomorrow. As is often the case with impending birthdays or other celebratory events, we've spent some time leading in reminiscing. I found myself being pulled back to my twenties, her twenties, and to some degree, my mother's twenties which I don't remember at all since my mother was only 20 when she gave birth to me. 

I guess twenties kept coming up as being...pivotal. 

?! 

Mine certainly were. But then so were other decades in my six.  I find myself thinking about what this current decade will bring; what I shall manifest, how I might want or need to pivot to adjust to changes that have and will continue to occur as is the natural order of things.  

Time will tell.  

"How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?"  ~Satchel Paige  

 

Faux Greek

 

Thanks to my daughter's interest in culinary arts and her working to build a career as a cook / chef / kitchen manager, I don't do a lot of cooking anymore.  I never was much of a cook. Sure, I learned a thing or two from my mom and grand-mom, could certainly follow a recipe, and was able to do a bit of improvising to come up with a "special" dish. 

One such dish was a take on chicken cacciatore.  

My take was basically seared chicken thighs with onions, garlic, and canned tomato sauce that I spiced with hot or barbeque sauce. It was spooned over rice. Nothing fancy but the kids loved it. And because it was easy and fast (my two "what's for dinner?" rules) it appeared often.  

Over the years I was able to create "faux" takes on a number of fancier fare. They weren't the real deal but were tasty enough to pass muster and please the target audience. I was also able to learn how to prepare and perfect (for my family) cultural staples; macaroni and cheese, cornbread stuffing, greens, and candied yams over the years.  

Still, I considered myself a so-so cook.  

Some weeks ago my daughter brought home some of what she'd prepared at the nursing home.  She described the dish as, "a kind of Greek" chicken which is from here on out shall be dubbed, Faux Greek Chicken.      

My daughter is a much better cook than I am; much better than I ever was, better than I will ever be.

Mostly because she loves it (I never did) and because she has patience and is excited to learn more. 

I do, however, enjoy tasting her creations and will occasionally serve as her sous. 

It is all good.  

 

 

  

Winter

 

Spoiler alert, it is winter here in the mid-west.  Well, it's winter in other places as well, but yeah...winter.  I wouldn't say I was in shock or awe over the winter weather we have been battered with  these last (what feels like) 1,000 days, I mean, it IS the mid-west, but good golly when will it not be snowing, when will it not be less that 30 degrees? Or, more than 20? 

Still, we're not having a Texas experience. My heart goes out to those folks and to all folks who are experiencing anything for which they were not prepared and for which a solution feels far away. 

I cannot let tis day, this post go by without noting that eight years ago today my mother took her last breath.  While I do (mostly) wrap myself in the happier times and drink in her infectious laugh I cannot deny that there is a void, a hole in my heart that is always missing her. I have gotten through these last (what feels like) million days by . . well, truth be told, I don't know how, maybe the sketchbook / art groups. 

My daughter noted in her FB mention of the occasion that, "on this date 8 years ago I lost my biggest fan." Which is true, as much as I champion my daughter (and son) my mom was even more robust in her cheering on! And that sentiment is exactly my sentiment. Mom was MY biggest fan too.

We are all cheering for one another but it isn't quite the same.  

Closing the book on this day, I have some sketching to do. I see the weather forecast is for partly sunny with temps rising to maybe twenty degrees over the next several days. One of my neighbors is working on an elaborate snow sculpture. It looks like he'll have time to finish it and we all will have some time to ooh and ahh over his masterpiece before nature shifts.  

Winter.  

1,2,3,4,5, and SIX

Day 5 Build 

Day 4 Freeze 

Also day 4 Freeze*

Day 3 Bait 

Day 2 Mindless 

So, the past few days have been stellar with regard to completing the Inktober prompts. I don't know why day 6 isn't available for upload, but when I figure a way to share here, I shall. 

The coming (Birthday) week may prove a tad more challenging. I shall try not to exert any extra pressure but I do also want to keep pace. 

A day at a time. 

I remain eternally grateful that I do not have to do the three hour (round trip) a day commute. 

#inktober  #inktober2019 

*I did two for Freeze because I didn't like the first one but rather than reject/trash it I did another and shared them both. 

OCTOBER

Inktober 2019  Prompt: RING 

October is a red letter month around these parts, first and foremost because it is the birth month of my only daughter. It is also LGBTQI History Month, Breast Cancer Awareness Month, as well as, Squirrel Awareness Month. 

In fact, there are many national observances in the month of October. 

I heard about Inktober two years ago (as I recall) and have wanted to participate toward kick-starting
my sketchbook practices and giving my creative muscles a workout. 

Last year I did the first prompt too. But, I didn't share it anywhere or with anyone.  This year I'm hoping that by sharing here and on other social media platforms along with the community of artists participating in Inktober, I'll be moved to do more than the one. 

Not promising 31 images for the 31 days . . . or, am I?

Tomorrow's prompt: Mindless.   

Got Ready

Judging by the display from my neighbors there is no shortage of holiday spirit roaming about.

The decorations are full of whimsy, brimming with joy. 

And while I love seeing them and the joy they evoke, 

I've had a difficult time summoning up my own spirit, my own joy. It isn't so much about being unhappy or feeling down. I don't quite know... muted, low, indistinct might be more apt descriptors. 

Maybe. 

Still, despite not having much 'air in my hair' I am pleased to have spent the day with my daughter (my son is house-sitting) with happy animals, food to eat, and heat protecting us from the brrr outside. 

Wishing everyone reading a happy last Monday of December! 

Peace and Joy

  

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I ♥ LESBOS

daughter and friend, Pride Parade 

This week, Wednesday, my daughter celebrates another birthday. To know my daughter is to know that she is all about her birthdays. She isn't a party girl in that sense of the word but a sentimental soul who appreciates acknowledgment especially in the form of cards (flowers and other trinkets).

I may have fed into her celebratory style over the years by stretching out the celebration, making cards, offering trinkets. On the event of her 30th, for instance, 30 days of testimonials on this blog.

This year is not a milestone year, but monumental none-the-less, because it just is.

This week, Wednesday is also National Coming Out Day.  Also a very momentous day for my daughter and me. She has stood with and supported me from the very beginning.  And of course, I have stood with her and supported her through her own coming out pronouncement. 

This year is not a milestone year but monumental none-the-less because we need the support of one another  as much, if not more than ever before thanks to the current political climate and rollbacks in protections established by the previous administration

I am pleased, honored, grateful to call my daughter my friend, my sister in arms. May she have a glorious birthday week, a fantabulous actual day of celebration and may all the out voices sing out loud, sing out proud toward supporting our sisters and brothers yet to take those tremouls steps toward living their truth.

more more more 

April Third Check on April

Disclosure: I am not following April the giraffe, but many are. 

Baseball season has started. Sorta. Opening Day for the White Sox was post-poned until Tuesday.  Rain. 

Rain. And more Rain. 

I have not turned on any external sound and until daughter walked in a few minutes ago, nothing 

but the sound of upstairs neighbors clanging about; their dog barking, their baby crying, my dog making whatever sound she makes, and the cat's meowing. 

That (not turning on music, news, TV external sound) might not seem like a big deal to some but for me? HUGE. But, I'm trying this new thing, you may have heard of it, sitting in silence. Well, relative silence. Upstairs neighbors and pets aside. 

Did you know that April is National Poetry Month? The actor (my son) was a performance poet first. He began in his second year of high school, charter member of the the school's Spoken Word Club. He doesn't write poetry much anymore and hasn't been to an open mic (as a performer) in years but he is still quite poetic in his thinking. 

Middle Girl at BlogSpot began March 29, 2006 (That first post was updated in 2015) 

Every now an again a stranger leads with an act of kindness and literally stuns me into silence. 

Such a thing happened today. To the lady who offered me her pink umbrella for my walk to the bus stop, THANK YOU. 

Welcome to Monday. Go HERE form more MBM! 

  

And the Winner Is

Some weeks ago I made an off-hand suggestion that daughter and I attend the 3rd annual Mac and Cheese Fest as it had been some time since we'd had one of our mother-daughter (good friends) outings. The $65.00 per ticket price knocked the possibility out of contention. And then, a couple of weeks ago, daughter mentions, not so off-handedly that her employer was going to participate in the festival, that we could get a deep discount on the tickets, and asked if I (still) wanted to go. For The Win. 

 We, along with hundreds of other visitors tasted offerings from caterers, restaurants, culinary institutes, and the like. We were asked for vote for our favorite/s. After the votes were tallied, the winner: Autumn Asiago Mac and Cheese (as pictured above) was announced.


.                                                 
Chef Lex (in the white coat, here with her wife, Lindsey) and the team took the first runner up trophy from 2015. And this year, For. The. Win. bringing home the coveted Golden Noodle. Yay Team. 

My daughter's words: It's funny how life works out. I had a job offer to leave Chicago and then I got the offer from Amazing Edibles and after being with them from Late spring I grew with them, and I didn't just like my job I loved my job. And making decisions is apart of life but this choice to stay and working with Amazing Edibles has been hands down my best choice since deciding to pursue culinary. I wish everyone could have a supportive, knowledgeable, loving, caring work environment. I'm so happy they chose me and I chose them back! Thank you ladies for always dealing with this silly Dani even at 6am!

Congratulations to an incredible team who contribute to make Amazing Edibles amazing.  FTW.

More Monday! 

  

It's Official!

My "little girl" as my mother would say, is leaving. 

After deciding on culinary arts as a career, a year of school, 

and a nother couple of years of trying on a number of hats 

in and around Chicago, 

she has applied for, and has been accepted entry to a 

work / study program that will take her to resorts in Colorado 

and then, Wyoming. 

For the next two years. 

She will report to the Colorado location by November 7th. She will be there five months. 

She will have 30 days before she has to report to the Wyoming location, a moth home
and then back to Colorado.  . 

Except for a brief stint during her teen years 

and small vacations, my daughter has not ever 

been away from home.  

WE are excited (and nervous) in equal measure.
No, more excited than nervous. 

Danielle has prepared for the opportunity 

and is ready for this challenge. She is ready to 

take the wheel and steer the course of her career
and her life.    

I am sad at the prospect of her leaving. I am happy

she is getting to earn while she learns at not one, but two resort properties. 

I am proud that she's developed the confidence to 

take this leap. 

We have three months to drink it all in. 

Cheers! 

Congratulations to my only daughter!

click image for more

Day Before, Day After, Each and Every . . Pride

My First Parade Image Capture

A year ago yesterday, the White House and other sites were bathed in Rainbow Lights in celebration of the Marriage Equality ruling. How sweet that memory is in light of the news over the past year, especially over the past couple of weeks. 

My daughter, who has recently come out as bi-sexual, wrote me a card . . 

June 2016 

" . . . . I want to wish you a Happy Pride! Being yourself is so important in the whole scheme of things! I'm happy that you're happy and taking Pride in who you are, . . . "

Chicago's Pride parade was yesterday. One Million expected attendance meant there would about 999, 990 too many bodies for me, so mine wasn't there and because of work, my daughter wasn't there. 

Still, our  

Pride Runs Deep

for more click:   #MicroBlogMonday   

Thirty Out Loud

Over the past thirty days I've shared "through the years images" of my daughter in pre-celebration of her thirtieth birthday, which is today. 

Over the past thirty years my daughter and I (and the rest of the family) have shared much, as you may imagine. She has been the source of some of my greatest joys and the opposite. 

Over the past thirty days I have come to recall some moments of the last thirty years, sparking wonder-filled conversations and laughter. 

Over the past thirty years I have helped my daughter navigate; learning as I taught.  

Over the past thirty days, as I've re-visited words and images I am reminded of the tenacity of her spirit, 

the expanse of her personality, the quality of her character. 

Over the past thirty years there have been ups and downs. We survived, I believe because we have been able to talk. And write what may have proven difficult to verbalize.  

Over the past thirty days I re-visited the large and small celebrations; remembering how we've cheered each other's  triumphs. Here's to the happiest of happy days today, tomorrow, and beyond. 

  

My Second, My Last, My Everything

Brown Eyes

 

*Counting down to birthday number thirty! 

*micro celebrations over the next month.

#SixWordSaturday

 

For Some, It Is That Time

My daughter with drink in hand. 

Summertime and the living is easy.*

*for some folks, don't you know.

*for some of the time, for sure?

*credit DuBose Hewaard and 

the Gershwins (George and Ira) 

#Six Word Saturday     

June Re-Boot

Memorial Day heralds in the unofficial start to summer.

I can't buy into such folly. It is still offically spring and still

officially . . . well, not 100%.

That said,  daughter and I spent a lovely afternoon at a very cool art fair


in the very cool Chicago neighborhood of Hyde Park. So enthused were we, she very easily convinced me

to purchase  a piece for her. She's very proud of her first original (outside of mine, of course) piece of

artwork.

The first full week of June has been lackluster, at best--change and designs on summertime, aside. I am

erasing the downs and embrasing the ups from the first week and entering week two with sunshine on

my shoulders; metaphorically speaking as the forecast for the next few days is temperatues in the mid-

sixties, mostly cloudy with slightly higher than 50% chance of rain.

Officially, it is still spring.

Pass the Rum Gravy, Cabbage, and Rolls

Truth be told, I haven't had rum in several years. In fact, the last taste of rum was gifted to me by a very dear friend. I don't there will be any rolls either. It has just occurred to me that I forgot to buy them and unless there is something vital that seems to have been forgotten as well, dinner will go on without them.

No biggie.



Yes, there will be a dinner. Poultry, dressing (not stuffing in my corner of the universe) macaroni and cheese, cabbage (two ways--with meat and without) and . . . I know I'm forgetting something, can't put my finger on it...oh well, point is, food.

And drink. And . . well, and . . . just . .

Truth be told I'm not feeling particularly festive. I'm trying for daughter's sake but my heart really isn't in it. But, there will be food and if the cabbage (both ways) and the macaroni and cheese are any indication it will be good. Maybe not great, maybe not amazing, but good. Okay, very good.

Damn, the gooey, cheesy . . good. Must stop tasting.

Truth be told, while not feeling particularly festive I do recognize there is much for which thanks should be given. And so I do give thanks for my decent health, the good health of the actor and his sister, the comfort of loving pets, shelter, food (damn, the gooey, cheesy . .) drink, other family, friends particularly those who have experienced a recent turn of (woot woot) events allowing for a sense of safety, security, inching toward home,  warming me all over.

Yes, there will be a dinner, the menu changed (slightly) to minimize the onslaught of memories.And while not feeling particularly festive, I am thankful to be here to be able to share a meal with my son and my daughter and to have connections with people who bring me great comfort and joy.

Peace to you.

Twenty-Eight

ell

only daughters

When my only daughter was in her late teens she went to live with her dad; my discipline too harsh, my boundaries for her, too restricting. The official reason, "I miss you, I want to get to know you better" struck just the right chord with him  (and me). 

Yet, I was angry. I was sad. I was afraid for her as she was spinning out of control. 

It wasn't long before several piles of shit hit the fan. 

Clean-up was a bitch.

But, clean-up we all did. She matured. I understood. He....well, he didn't do much of anything, which probably was the best thing he could do to help my only daughter and me repair, rebuild, and grow together. 

Whenever talking about my son and daughter I can often be heard saying that they are as different as night and day. And they are with regard to they personalities and their separate approaches to the here-and-now, the day-to-day. But, they are both performers, thinkers, talkers . . . and more. 

And while we are all, not only housemates, but friends, my only daughter and me are . . .   well,, just different than my son and me. 

Which is fine as as I speak both son and daughter. 

On this, my only daughter's twenty-eighth birthday, I want to thank her for challenging me. I want to thank her for being the loud, active, funny, animal loving, pop-culture embracing, passionate seeker of all life has to offer girl, young woman she has been, continues to be.  

I want to assure her than I am proud of her and proud to have played any role in her development.

Go for your dreams dear daughter. Don't hold back. Don't be afraid. Don't settle. 

May you have the happiest of happy days and may there be more and more and even more ahead. 

All Ears

 

Pete as "Yoda" 

Buttah as "Yoda" 

While marketed as "Yoda" ears, I think they look more like a "flying nun" accessory. On the plus, the daughter (who loves dressing up the fur babies) only purchased one set. The cats get to share, which I'm sure (if they could speak) would be all, "oh, goody, goody, gumdrops" about that fact. 

Buttah seemed the more agreeable of the two over donning and posing in the ears. Though, Buttah is nearly always the more agreeable of the two. Ms. Cinnamon got saved from any new costuming. The daughter's budget will not allow, for now. 

Speaking of Cinnamon, the wonder dog, she's in dire need of another haircut. Schedules and budgets have not allowed.  But come heck or high water, IT. MUST. HAPPEN! While I like her micro curls, her face and feet are much too fuzzy. Decision must be made about how best to showcase her innate beauty.  

In other news yours truly is struggling to keep emotions in check. Tears are flowing easy like Sunday morning.  

Speaking of yours truly, of great interest to daughter who finds herself  Fantasy Footballing,  Bears are 2-0 which matters not to yours truly except as in a purely conversational sense.And on that note: Must get to bed now, well, not to bed to sleep so much as to read before sleep. 

Ta Ta