Compares with Great Harvest. I think the key is the large doses of cinnamon and nutmeg (a tablespoon each, not a teaspoon).
Mix:
2 ½ c flour
1 c wheat flour
2 t soda
1 T cinnamon
1 T nutmeg
1 t salt
2 ½ c sugar
Mix:
16 oz. pumpkin
4 eggs
2/3 c. water
1 c. oil
Stir wet ingredients into dry ingredients. Add nuts or chocolate chips (1-2 cups). Pour into 2 greased 9x5 loaf pans. Bake 60-70 minutes at 350 degrees.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
wanting to like Mitt
I want to like Mitt Romney and I want other people to like him, which may be weird since he's not my candidate. The people I know who know him (or are acquainted with him) say he's a good teacher and leader. He's good at listening and building consensus. He's smart. He's a problem solver. I just wish he weren't so wishy washy. (But then George W wasn't wishy washy, and I can't stand him.)
If Mitt were running on the same platform that got him the job in MA, I might actually vote for him. I want the moderate Mitt to be the real Mitt. But maybe that Mitt was no more real than (or every bit as real as) the current Mitt. He tells his voters and what they want, and if elected, will likely try to give voters what they want.
My most positive spin on Mitt is that he believes strongly that an elected official should represent his electorate. As Massachusetts governor he represented the people of Massachusetts; as Republican presidential candidate he represents the party (particularly the vocal, far-right). If representing the electorate is his primary value as a politician, then changing his views to reflect voters' views is right, good, and consistent.
When I see Mitt bickering with his opponents, my read is that Mitt very much wants to be president, is used to getting what he wants, and feels picked on right now. I don't want him to just pander to the public; I want him to stand for something (i.e., rationality and moderation) and persuade people that he's right (not that people are willing to be persuaded). So far Huntsman seems better than Mitt at being reasonable and consistent. But then, if I were just going for consistency, I'd vote for Ron Paul (no thanks).
As far as the religion issue, I think Mitt's handled it well (and Huntsman maybe less well). Many people might not vote for him because of his religion; most Mormons will vote for him because of his religion. As for me, I'm looking for someone who better represents my values.
If Mitt were running on the same platform that got him the job in MA, I might actually vote for him. I want the moderate Mitt to be the real Mitt. But maybe that Mitt was no more real than (or every bit as real as) the current Mitt. He tells his voters and what they want, and if elected, will likely try to give voters what they want.
My most positive spin on Mitt is that he believes strongly that an elected official should represent his electorate. As Massachusetts governor he represented the people of Massachusetts; as Republican presidential candidate he represents the party (particularly the vocal, far-right). If representing the electorate is his primary value as a politician, then changing his views to reflect voters' views is right, good, and consistent.
When I see Mitt bickering with his opponents, my read is that Mitt very much wants to be president, is used to getting what he wants, and feels picked on right now. I don't want him to just pander to the public; I want him to stand for something (i.e., rationality and moderation) and persuade people that he's right (not that people are willing to be persuaded). So far Huntsman seems better than Mitt at being reasonable and consistent. But then, if I were just going for consistency, I'd vote for Ron Paul (no thanks).
As far as the religion issue, I think Mitt's handled it well (and Huntsman maybe less well). Many people might not vote for him because of his religion; most Mormons will vote for him because of his religion. As for me, I'm looking for someone who better represents my values.
Monday, September 19, 2011
controlling parents (not mine)
"Why do parents try to control their children?" someone asked at book group. One woman pointed out that we want our kids to avoid making the same mistakes we made, but, of course, we all have to learn from our own mistakes sometimes. Another said that we put so much of ourselves into providing our kids great experiences that we want and expect them to take advantage and be grateful. I think it's a good thing that I teach part-time (i.e., have a hobby, goals, etc.), or I might be more controlling than I am. But Chua, the author of the book we were discussing, is a Yale law professor--certainly not someone who needs to live through her children (though she is not accomplished musically and made her children into concert musicians). One woman in our group theorized that Chua not only needs to control herself, her husband, and her children, but also wants to control everyone within the sound of her voice (This is how you should parent!).
So, what makes some people control freaks? One woman said she decided years ago that she would not be a stage mom because she saw how her friends (and friends' children) suffered under their stage moms. Couldn't the stage moms see what they were doing? And if so, why didn't they stop?
Even though my friends at book group agreed that we shouldn't control our children, the gals on my right and left both said that they blamed their mothers for not pushing them harder, allowing them to quit piano lessons young. Beat that. What's a mom to do? Chua makes the point that if left to their own devices, most children would never choose to practice or work hard. Yes, there are exceptions--children who from birth seek challenges--but most kids need to be motivated. I was one of those kids who needed to be reminded to practice piano for years before I took the initiative. My daughter (age 11), after choosing to play violin, vehemently resisted practicing and lessons. Her teacher said that her friends majoring in music didn't like practicing as children either. But after months of my daughter's complaints, we let her quit. If she ever blames me for allowing her to quit I will first feel very angry and second remind her that quitting was entirely her idea.
So, what makes some people control freaks? One woman said she decided years ago that she would not be a stage mom because she saw how her friends (and friends' children) suffered under their stage moms. Couldn't the stage moms see what they were doing? And if so, why didn't they stop?
Even though my friends at book group agreed that we shouldn't control our children, the gals on my right and left both said that they blamed their mothers for not pushing them harder, allowing them to quit piano lessons young. Beat that. What's a mom to do? Chua makes the point that if left to their own devices, most children would never choose to practice or work hard. Yes, there are exceptions--children who from birth seek challenges--but most kids need to be motivated. I was one of those kids who needed to be reminded to practice piano for years before I took the initiative. My daughter (age 11), after choosing to play violin, vehemently resisted practicing and lessons. Her teacher said that her friends majoring in music didn't like practicing as children either. But after months of my daughter's complaints, we let her quit. If she ever blames me for allowing her to quit I will first feel very angry and second remind her that quitting was entirely her idea.
Friday, September 16, 2011
test over
After a 3.5 hour test (that I'm under legal obligation not to discuss), nothing beats coming home to an adorable 3 year old (and her amazing dad, of course). This little girl who literally jumps for joy, tells me she loves to play with me, asks me to read books with her, and is just so darn cute makes me wonder again why I just subjected myself to said test.
My older kids have also asked why.
"I might want to go back to school."
"Why? So you can teach more?"
"Maybe."
"Why would you want to teach more? Then you'd have less time to spend with us."
"But you're in school all day and soon E will be too. I enjoy school, so I might want to go back. This summer you've been bored--I get bored too."
Not this week though. What with lesson prep, grading, kids' activities, the test, neighborhood preschool (my turn to teach last week), volunteering in M's class, and normal household stuff (eating, shopping, etc.), I'm feeling happy for Friday.
Maybe I'll decide not to apply for a PhD program--the scores are good for 5 years; I'm in no rush. Then again, I won't always have an adorable three year old asking me to play.
My older kids have also asked why.
"I might want to go back to school."
"Why? So you can teach more?"
"Maybe."
"Why would you want to teach more? Then you'd have less time to spend with us."
"But you're in school all day and soon E will be too. I enjoy school, so I might want to go back. This summer you've been bored--I get bored too."
Not this week though. What with lesson prep, grading, kids' activities, the test, neighborhood preschool (my turn to teach last week), volunteering in M's class, and normal household stuff (eating, shopping, etc.), I'm feeling happy for Friday.
Maybe I'll decide not to apply for a PhD program--the scores are good for 5 years; I'm in no rush. Then again, I won't always have an adorable three year old asking me to play.
Oreo-stuffed chocolate chip cookies
The friend who introduced me to cake balls served Oreo-stuffed chocolate chip cookies at book group this week. Amazing!
Start with a scoop of cookie dough
Next an Oreo
Top with another scoop of cookie dough
Bake until done
Start with a scoop of cookie dough
Next an Oreo
Top with another scoop of cookie dough
Bake until done
Friday, August 5, 2011
fine line
The summer that my third child was 3 1/2, I suffered a sort of mid-life crisis. I was bored, restless. I had three kids at home who required regular, but not constant, supervision. I was in grad school too, but took the summer off (I take every summer off) because when the kids are out of school I lack the energy to do homework after the kids go to bed (which is when I do most of my work). Although I didn't have big chunks of free time, I had more little chunks than I was used to and I didn't know what to do with myself.
So I was fully expecting a similar restlessness this summer, now that my fourth child is 3 years old. Actually the restlessness started before summer. 2010 was a very full year; summer and fall were my busiest months since grad school. Then winter semester I was teaching one class with an assistant and our youngest was learning to play independently--I had free time again. Don't get me wrong. I love being able to read whatever I want, exercise regularly, and watch a good show after the kids going to bed. But at some point I want to see results for how I spend my time. I need a project.
A few years ago the girl cutting my hair (at a beauty school--so yes, she was a girl, not a woman) asked what I did for fun. That seemed like such a weird question. I told her I taught piano and writing (hobbies, yes, but not entirely fun). She said, "So you like writing and playing piano, then?" Well, no, I don't write much or play piano much--I mostly teach.
In high school I did play the piano, though not exactly for fun, and I wrote for school--not fun. I was involved in a dozen extra-curricular activities, but I haven't found a way to transfer most of those to adult hobbies. As a former yearbook editor, I suppose I should like scrapbooking (I don't--at least not in a big way). As a former dancer I suppose I could take zumba.
So, with free time and free tuition, I'm contemplating going back to school. One thing I've enjoyed through most of my life is school. But I'm not quite ready. Our youngest still has 2 years of preschool before kindergarten, and I'm really not sure if I want to have professors dictating what I read and write about. I am committed, however, to taking the GRE in five weeks--the price is 50% in August and September, so I thought I may as well take it now (scores are good for 5 years; that's the sort of discount shopper I am).
The last couple of days, I haven't felt bored. Just when I thought I had free time, the independent study students start turning things in, family comes to visit, friends come to play, people have birthdays, preschool plans fall through, N lets me read the book he's writing, I find interesting books at the library. School is starting soon--I have a new textbook to read and a syllabus to write. I'll soon have plenty of papers to grade and study abroad to plan (the family end of things).
Sometimes there's a fine line between boredom and stress; the challenge is finding the happy medium. I'm lucky that for the most part my busy times are the result of my choices--having kids, going to school, building a house. I just wonder how many of these mid-life crises can one person have?
So I was fully expecting a similar restlessness this summer, now that my fourth child is 3 years old. Actually the restlessness started before summer. 2010 was a very full year; summer and fall were my busiest months since grad school. Then winter semester I was teaching one class with an assistant and our youngest was learning to play independently--I had free time again. Don't get me wrong. I love being able to read whatever I want, exercise regularly, and watch a good show after the kids going to bed. But at some point I want to see results for how I spend my time. I need a project.
A few years ago the girl cutting my hair (at a beauty school--so yes, she was a girl, not a woman) asked what I did for fun. That seemed like such a weird question. I told her I taught piano and writing (hobbies, yes, but not entirely fun). She said, "So you like writing and playing piano, then?" Well, no, I don't write much or play piano much--I mostly teach.
In high school I did play the piano, though not exactly for fun, and I wrote for school--not fun. I was involved in a dozen extra-curricular activities, but I haven't found a way to transfer most of those to adult hobbies. As a former yearbook editor, I suppose I should like scrapbooking (I don't--at least not in a big way). As a former dancer I suppose I could take zumba.
So, with free time and free tuition, I'm contemplating going back to school. One thing I've enjoyed through most of my life is school. But I'm not quite ready. Our youngest still has 2 years of preschool before kindergarten, and I'm really not sure if I want to have professors dictating what I read and write about. I am committed, however, to taking the GRE in five weeks--the price is 50% in August and September, so I thought I may as well take it now (scores are good for 5 years; that's the sort of discount shopper I am).
The last couple of days, I haven't felt bored. Just when I thought I had free time, the independent study students start turning things in, family comes to visit, friends come to play, people have birthdays, preschool plans fall through, N lets me read the book he's writing, I find interesting books at the library. School is starting soon--I have a new textbook to read and a syllabus to write. I'll soon have plenty of papers to grade and study abroad to plan (the family end of things).
Sometimes there's a fine line between boredom and stress; the challenge is finding the happy medium. I'm lucky that for the most part my busy times are the result of my choices--having kids, going to school, building a house. I just wonder how many of these mid-life crises can one person have?
Thursday, July 28, 2011
not-so-great salt lake
We're kind of pitiful when it comes to taking advantage of the amazing outdoor recreational opportunities surrounding us. When N proposed we take a field trip to the Great Salt Lake, it sounded like a super idea.
We decided to go to Antelope Island, which is west of Syracuse (20 minutes or so north of the city, then another 20 minutes west. I didn't watch the clock, so I'm totally guessing). The last 7 miles of the drive is on a causeway built through the lake, so there's water on both sides and distant mountains all around--it's gorgeous. Arriving around 5:00 p.m., we chose to start at the beach. It was a hot day--the parking lot felt like a barbeque grill. Between the parking lot and the beach is about 200 yards of sand, which had been cooking all day. I didn't know whether to wear my flip flops, which kept throwing sand up onto my legs, or remove them, thereby exposing my entire foot to the scalding sand.
Besides the heat, the other sensation we noticed as we approached the beach was the smell. It was ocean-like, but more pungeant--my son described it as a zoo smell.
We dropped our towels in a heap and headed into the water, stepping on hundreds of brine flies on the way. Now, you'd think that any person standing in the Salt Lake would have an irresistable urge to try floating, right? The thing is, the water isn't exactly clear--more greenish, with a top layer of small, rust-colored brine shrimp (you'd never know they were shrimp unless someone told you--they're tiny)--not exactly enticing. The only one of us who tried floating was our 3 year old and she loved it--couldn't get enough. She also practiced blowing bubbles.
The best thing about being in the Salt Lake, besides just being there, is skipping rocks. Littering the sandy bottom are an endless supply of flat rocks. After 30 minutes or so in the water, when I asked my older children if they were ready to go to shore, they declined--too busy skipping rocks. My daughter decided to keep one of the larger rocks. It looked like Arkansas; we named it Little Rock.
We decided to go to Antelope Island, which is west of Syracuse (20 minutes or so north of the city, then another 20 minutes west. I didn't watch the clock, so I'm totally guessing). The last 7 miles of the drive is on a causeway built through the lake, so there's water on both sides and distant mountains all around--it's gorgeous. Arriving around 5:00 p.m., we chose to start at the beach. It was a hot day--the parking lot felt like a barbeque grill. Between the parking lot and the beach is about 200 yards of sand, which had been cooking all day. I didn't know whether to wear my flip flops, which kept throwing sand up onto my legs, or remove them, thereby exposing my entire foot to the scalding sand.
Besides the heat, the other sensation we noticed as we approached the beach was the smell. It was ocean-like, but more pungeant--my son described it as a zoo smell.
We dropped our towels in a heap and headed into the water, stepping on hundreds of brine flies on the way. Now, you'd think that any person standing in the Salt Lake would have an irresistable urge to try floating, right? The thing is, the water isn't exactly clear--more greenish, with a top layer of small, rust-colored brine shrimp (you'd never know they were shrimp unless someone told you--they're tiny)--not exactly enticing. The only one of us who tried floating was our 3 year old and she loved it--couldn't get enough. She also practiced blowing bubbles.
The best thing about being in the Salt Lake, besides just being there, is skipping rocks. Littering the sandy bottom are an endless supply of flat rocks. After 30 minutes or so in the water, when I asked my older children if they were ready to go to shore, they declined--too busy skipping rocks. My daughter decided to keep one of the larger rocks. It looked like Arkansas; we named it Little Rock.
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