Bus-riding granola eaters

Back in the seventies, my mom discovered granola.

Once a month, she went to her favorite group meeting, "Homemakers."  Homemakers were a group of women that as far as I can determine, were grown-up 4-H.  They met once a month at someone's home and there was always a lesson taught by either the Agriculture extension office agent or by one of the group members.  It was a very crafty group devoted to improving the lives of their families.  I remember one lesson must have focused on sewing "knitwear" and my mom got really excited about stretch fabric and was going to sew some swimsuits for me.  There was a really great neon green fabric we picked out and the pattern she was going to sew was a one-piece with cute draw strings up the sides.  I'm still excited about that suit and I can't wait to wear it!! I wonder if she's going to finish it anytime soon.

In the health food category, they must have learned about the nutritional value of granola one month. In California, they were probably eating granola in the sixties.  But not in Kentucky, we didn't get granola until the seventies so learning about the hip foods people ate on the west coast was really exciting!   The day after the meeting, Mom had a nice box of Nature Valley granola for us. Always eager to try something new, I poured myself a big bowl. It was good!  I think those Californians knew where it was at. 

There was a downside to granola though which was that I was a bus rider.   Not only were the Williamson kids bus riders but our bus stop back in the Delong Road days was at the end of our half-mile long driveway.  If we missed the bus we had to walk back up the half-mile hill to the house and our mom charged us a dollar to drive us to school.  Naturally, when your allowance for the week was about 50 cents missing the bus was a bad thing.

So, no one mentioned to my mother at the Homemaker's granola lesson about how long it takes to chew granola or that a little bit of granola goes a long way.  If one lives in a house with a clean plate rule at every meal AND rides the school bus, a big bowl of granola is not, I repeat, NOT, a good choice.  Let's just say, that my first experience with granola did not have a happy ending and actually cost me two week's worth of allowance.

In spite of that bad first experience, I still liked granola.  I use it more as a topping for yogurt though or as a quick snack than eating large bowls of it.  Mary Rollins is hooked on it too.  I've also discovered recently that making your own granola is easy, delicious and possibly cheaper than buying it in the box.   I created my own recipe which follows and it achieves high ratings from Mary Rollins and Marc.  It must be pretty good because it's disappearing in the kind of quantity that might make one miss the bus!  Wouldn't those Homemakers be proud of me?

Granola recipe
6 cups oats
1 cup chopped walnuts
1/2 sweetened coconut
1/2 sunflower seeds
1/2 cup slivered almonds
1/2 cup wheat germ
1 cup of dried fruit (I use craisins and golden raisins)


2/3 cup canola oil
1/4 cup amber maple syrup
1/4 honey
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
1.5 teaspoon vanilla
1 tab water

Preheat oven to 275

Heat oil, syrup, honey, brown sugar, vanilla and water over medium heat until melted together and a bit bubbly.

Mix dry ingredients together in large bowl and pour liquid mixture over it and stir until well mixed.  Divide the mixture between two baking sheets covered with parchment paper.  Bake for 30 minutes,  stir about and bake another 20 minutes and stir in dried fruit of choice (or perhaps chocolate chips???).  Let cool out of the oven for about an hour and store in an airtight container. 

Goldilocks and the Realtor

I was criticized last Friday by my dad (hi Dad!) for not blogging more often. I have been really busy lately though with my real job. Incidentally, I was also chastised for having to make a phone call while at lunch. Sorry Dad, that's the downside of working for yourself and not having a secretary. At least, I could go to lunch, right?

Speaking of real jobs and real estate, I've been having lots of interesting showings lately. One afternoon last week, I showed a house that was supposedly vacant. My client and I went in and discovered a bowl of porridge on the table (actually it was Taco Bell). We went up stairs and I found Goldilocks (actually it was a man) sleeping in the master bedroom. We were naturally a bit surprised although my client was far more startled than I. It's not the first time I've walked in on a sleeper and have even walked into homes where people were taking showers. It's getting harder and harder to surprise me after seven years in real estate.

Upon finding the sleeper, we decided to leave and I intended to tell the agent when she called me for feedback about our little surprise. We were a little late for our scheduled showing time but the agent had told me the house wasn't occupied so I hadn't worried about our timing. When I found the man in the bed I just assumed he was the owner or a friend of the owner and had come home after the time we were supposed to be there. Two days after my showing, the agent called to ask me if there had been Taco Bell trash in the kitchen and if it looked like somebody had been sleeping in the bed upstairs. Well, as a matter of fact... She made a kind of gurgled screaming sound when I told her that not only did it look like somebody had been sleeping in the bed but they were still there.

"What, why didn't you call me?" she asked.

Because, I thought you'd call me for feedback that afternoon and I'd tell you then?!?

Apparently, no one knows who that was eating Taco Bell at the kitchen table or sleeping in the bed. No one really knows how he got in either. Apparently, we walked in on a sleeping trespasser.

I told my buyer-client the story when we were looking at houses a few days later. She was a bit freaked out. Me, I figure if he had gotten out of bed, I would have politely introduced myself, apologized for waking him up and asked if he minded if we went ahead and looked at the master bath while we were there. Maybe it's good he stayed asleep or at least played possum.

Next week, maybe I'll tell you the story about the apartment building, the music professor and the junkie.

What girls eat...

Here in the Bluegrass this week, we have just girls.  What?  Yes, the boys, Marc and Will, have left in my Odyssey to go to New Orleans.  They left at noon yesterday for a much anticipated trip to the SEC Tournament.  For those readers, not familiar with what an SEC Tournament is that stands for the SouthEastern Conference Tournament in which it is highly likely that the University of Kentucky Wildcats basketball team will be the champions.  The boys should have a great time and they have already sent me pictures of Will in Jackson Square and Will standing in front of Cafe du Monde, pictures of the Superdome and pictures of their hotel room.  I am so proud of them.  They not only sent pictures but they remembered to TAKE pictures.  A first, I believe.

Tofu with Sesame Ginger Noodles

Meanwhile, the girls are home having girlie times.  In actuality at this very moment of 8:04 p.m. I am at the office working (and blogging) and MR is at ballet rehearsal.  But last night, we had girlie food. I made Tofu with Sesame Ginger Noodles.  They were delicious thanks very much to my BFF Rachel Ray.  And, cheese-less. 

I sent the photo to the right to Will as a text message.  His response was "Nasty."

That said, I'm off now to drive girls home from ballet and then Mary Rollins and I are going to have a big night of leftovers and Vampire Diaries. 

Life is good (and a little weird without the boys). 

Diary of a Mad Fat Girl: A Book Review

Have you ever wondered what would happen if you picked up Bridget Jones from England, took away her accent and plopped her into Bugtussle, Mississippi?  You can find out if you meet Graciela “Ace” Jones from the newest Blogher Book Club selection Diary of a Mad Fat Girl.  In fact, it might be fun if  Ace Jones met Bridget Jones, although possibly they already met studying abroad in Italy.  They'd have had a good time smoking and drinking their way through Florence and Rome.

Stephanie MacAfee, the author of Diary of a Mad Fat Girl, must have laughed outloud while writing this novel and peppering it with characters that resonate with all the fun and oddity that come from living in a small Southern town.  Ace and her two best friends, Chloe - a good Southern junior leaguer and Lilly, a man-eating former-lingerie model, have no ordinary days playing local school board politics, saving their teaching jobs from the vicious principal of Bugtussle High School, and navigating roller coaster love lives with hunky motorcycle riders, old boyfriends, cheating husbands and the good-looking men of the local police force.  Ace’s strongly Southern voice is hilarious and her observations are a riot.  In a favorite passage, Ace wonders why gyms don’t take a hint from department stores and have plus-sized section so that more generously proportioned women don’t have to exercise with the skinny people. 

While Diary of a Mad, Fat Girl wasn't my favorite book, I had several hours of fun reading it and getting great visuals in my head.  I could hear the characters' voices and by golly, I found myself looking forward to seeing this book as a movie with its funny dialogue, fast-paced plot and charming characters.  In fact, I started casting the movie in my head and finally came up with Brooke Elliott (assuming she can do a good Southern accent) as Ace.  And, maybe whatever dog plays Buster Loo will be as big a star as Uggie.  

I was compensated for this book review by BlogHer Book Club but the opinions expressed are all my own.  

http://www.blogher.com/bookclub/now-reading-diary-mad-fat-girl

March weather

70 degrees and tornadoes Friday. 5 inches of snow on Monday. High of 57 on Tuesday. Oh you fickle Kentucky weather, how you always surprise us.

And, let me say that in every instance I prefer dire snow storm warnings to tornadoes.

Shriner's Hill.  That's Will with the red sled who jumped out of my car like
Snow Ninja to meet his possee on the hill and then off to lunch at Wheelers.

Pancakes a la Mary Rollins. 

of Books and Cheese...

Lent begins tomorrow. Probably you know that and have already been considering your own Lenten discipline.

I love Lent. I've mentioned that before, haven't I? That along with my whole great affection for the cycle of the church calendar. Tonight we won't be able to make it to church for Shrove Tuesday Pancake Supper because we'll be worshipping the gods of ballet and lacrosse, but I'm serving Brinner for dinner tonight. Will wants me to point out here that saying "I'm serving Brinner for dinner" is an unnecessary repetition and I can just say we are having "Brinner."

Once I had a priest who when I told him I loved Lent, said, "Please remember, we're an Easter people.". I see his point but there's still something I find terribly comfortable and enjoyable about the weeks of Lent preceding the celebration. Probably because I like over thinking things and Lent is a lovely time for enforced reflection.

I typically give a great deal of thought to my Lenten discipline. I'm on the give something up and add something in plan. This year, I have great intentions of reading the Forward Movement Day by Day Daily Meditation. This is something I should probably do every day but never seems to happen. I'm bookmarking it on my iPad today. No excuses.

In the "give up" category, I'm giving up cheese this year. That's right, cheese. Mary Rollins is too. I've told a few people about our Lenten sacrifice (and well now the entire world since I'm blogging about it) some people have laughed but I think it'll be the hardest thing I've ever given up. I love cheese. I've never met a cheese I didn't like. The Reverend Janey who knows we have a cheese drawer in our refrigerator seems to appreciate the depth and meaning of this sacrifice. I know that every time I forgo cheese, I will be reminded of the reason I observe Lent.

One year I gave up fiction for Lent. A friend of mine questioned me during that Lenten period about “giving up books.” I guess for her it wasn’t much of a sacrifice. For me though, I knew how many quiet spaces I filled up with good stories and that reading is my drug of choice that takes me away from my own life and into other fascinating worlds. . During my Lent without fiction, times that I would have filled with audiobooks -- my morning runs and long car rides especially, meant lots more time in reflection and prayer, listening to silence and listening to music. I was thrilled to have my books back on Easter.  Who knows, I might do it again some Lent that I need it.

Incidentally, I have another friend who always observes a Lenten practice but she will never talk about it. I was thinking about her as I wrote my blog post today and I almost didn't write this post, however, I decided that when I do talk (or blog) about how I observe Lent it's not intended in either a mournful or boastful way.  It's really just about exploring in a community/with friends what we believe and I think it reveals a little more about who we are to other people. For example, I am a cheese-loving, book addict.

So, will you practice a Lenten discipline this year?

On Sunday night, we had fondue farewell to cheese...

Attention Ballet Fans...

Lexington Ballet's school company dancers in their upcoming show, Ion Dance, at the studio in Lexington, Ky., Saturday, February 4, 2012. Photo by Matt Goins 13432 MATT GOINS — ©2012 Herald-Leader

Or, just Mary Rollins fans!  Guess who was on the cover of the Lexington Herald-Leader Weekender section today!  None other than our favorite dancer:  Mary Rollins Mathews and company.  Click here if you'd like to read the Herald-Leader's story of how white girls interpret a broad range of African-American music through classical ballet.  Performances are tonight and tomorrow at the Lyric Theater. 

The Weird Sisters by Eleanor Brown

My own weird sisters (and me)...Cordy, Bean, and Rose.
No wait, that's not right: Gwenda, Lynda and Cindy
(okay so isn't it weird that really
only my family calls me Gwenda AND
I felt the need to put that in my photo caption because I'm
with my sisters??) .

New book I love: The Weird Sisters by Eleanor Brown. Maybe I loved this book because it’s about three sisters and I’m one of three sisters. Maybe I loved this book because they’re Episcopalians and I’m an Episcopalian. Maybe it’s because this family defines itself by its love of literature and, well the Williamsons are a book family. When all other conversation fails, we seem to always come back to our favorite books. Oh, and that the setting is in a small college town and their lives seem to revolve around a higher education calendar. No, that doesn’t hit close to home or that caring for aging parents is part of the theme.


The Weird Sisters is now my favorite book of 2012. Written by Eleanor Brown, the Weird Sisters is a bewitching tale of three sisters who have grown up with a Shakespearian scholar father and a loving but distracted mother. The sisters each named for one of Shakespeare’s characters, now grown, have all returned to the family home ostensibly to care for their mother who has been diagnosed with breast cancer. In truth though, her illness is really a much needed excuse to escape from their own lives. Their return home is punctuated with saucy sarcasm and mysterious quotes from the Bard.

Like the Andreas sisters of The Weird Sisters, I also have strong feelings about having returned to my home town.  I often find myself apologizing for living in Lexington where I was born and raised. Sometimes I think my life should have been, somehow bigger, that I should have landed far from home and be living a glamorous life, riding the subway to work, sitting in a beach house somewhere writing my novel as I stare out over the waves with my dog’s head on my foot. And yet, I find myself here in the Bluegrass, living where I can step out my front door and hear my high school band practicing and my children are attending the same cotillions that I went to and have teachers with whom I once went to school. To me, it sounds small and yet, my life doesn’t feel that way. And even on the bad days when I’ve argued with someone or had a stressful day of real estate, it still feels big and rich and full of good things. To me, the landscape of horse farms and hills isn’t any less beautiful for my having seen it a thousand times before and the opportunity to make a difference in the world, here, is no less important than the difference I could make in another place. It’s really all about peace, isn’t it?  And, yet, I always have to clarify to people that I "chose" to move back home, that I "could" have lived somewhere else. 

The Weird Sisters isn’t The Life of Pi or even The Help in becoming a literary classic that defines an age or a culture but, I highly recommend it as a great read. If you ever had a sister, ever moved away from home, ever moved back home, ever read any Shakespeare or if you just like a really good book, put The Weird Sisters on your what to read next list. You might find, like I did, that it leaves you with a lot to ponder about growing up and where you fit into your family.

By the way, I was compensated for this review as part of BlogHer Book Club, however the opinions expressed are entirely my own. Just as they should and always will be…

Happy reading!

What weekends should be like...

Sapori Market -- 327 Romany Road

Two weekends ago, Marc had a terrible weekend.  It went like this:  Saturday morning funeral; Saturday afternoon visit mom in nursing home; later Saturday afternoon attend church vestry retreat,  Sunday morning attend more church vestry retreat; Sunday afternoon visit mom in nursing home.  He said, "I didn't get a weekend."

This past weekend?  Much better.  Friday night -- hang out with wife and daughter (always good hanging out with the girls).  Saturday morning visit mom in nursing home but be home by lunch.  Saturday afternoon, well, this was the best part.  Marc walked with me to a home showing. 

I always fantasize about walking or riding my bike to show property but it's never very practical.  I usually have stuff I have to carry, the houses are too far apart, and there are people who would probably think it was weird.  The clients I was meeting on Saturday are special though -- we've known each other since I helped them buy their first home right before they got married several years ago.  They now have the world's sweetest baby (she could be Mary Rollins' twin). The wife also dreams of being able to ride her bike to work and they want the world's cutest baby be able to walk to school one day.  Naturally, they now want to live in Chevy Chase. 

I also figured they'd not mind a bit, and actually like, that I walked to a showing and Marc was super excited to come along.  He'd never met my clients before, although I talk about them a lot,  and the husband is also a CPA.  You know how accountants are; they are always super excited to meet other accountants!!  Plus, I told him he could be my intern for the day and turn the lights on and off in the house.  He was super excited.  And, I suggested that he could bring money and buy us frozen yogurt on Romany Road on the way home.  You can probably feel his excitement jumping out of the screen, can't you?

It turned out to be just as super fun and super exciting as he had anticipated.  We showed the house and Marc did an excellent job turning the lights on and off, the CPAs met and are now BFFs,  and we stopped for yogurt at Orange Leaf.  It was perfect.  I'm still a bigger fan of Fro-Jos but alas I cannot walk or bike to Fro-Jos. 

It was also a day of making new friends.  We discovered Sapori D'Italia Market, an Italian Neighborhood Market located across the street from Wheeler's and next door to Orange Leaf.  I think it was the sight of the lovely cheese case that lured us in.  I know it was the cheese case that lured us in, for we have never met a cheese case we didn't like.  We also met the owner, we liked him too.  He gave us a quick tour highlighting not only his lovely cheeses, but also his beautiful sauces, casseroles and soups made from his Italian wife's family recipes, gorgeous prosciutto and salami, tempting homemade pastas, and his own BBQ. We sampled some delicious Italian tea and wished at that moment we hadn't a two mile walk ahead of us for we had nowhere to carry home any of his delights and spent all of our money on yogurt.  We'll be back though -- next time with money and hungry bellies.

Cheese, Glorious Cheese!

We finished our walk, had dinner with friends, watched our last episode of Mad Men on Netflix, and a good weekend was had by all.  As Marc went to bed last night, he said, "now that's how a weekend should be...I just need six more days of it."  

We need to talk...

On the way to school yesterday Will said, in a most serious-kind of voice, "Mom, can we talk about something?"

"Sure," and I anxiously awaited our heart-to-heart.

"You know how when I get out of the car at school you like to say 'I love you, Honey and have a great day, Sweetie?"

"Yes."

"Do you think you could possibly say that before I open the car door?"

Lakehouse, anyone?

Remember how the name of this blog used to Moving2CentralKY?  Well, if you don't live in Central Kentucky this house might seriously make you want to move here.

Kentucky is funny place with lots of funny little counties.  And, when I say little counties, that's what I mean -- little.  We have 120 counties which is the third largest number of counties for a US state behind Texas and Georgia.  You might find that interesting if you look at a map as Kentucky's size?  Not all that big.  So, we have a bunch of small counties.  Fayette aka Lexington is my favorite, naturally, but I have a lot of close seconds.  One of my favorite drives is heading north on Paris Pike which takes me through two of them -- passing huge horse farms, the historic stone fences that so characterize the Kentucky landscape, a myriad of antebellum and victorian homes, the charming towns of Paris and Millersburg.  If you keep going north from Millersburg, the land gets a little less manicured, the hills a bit more rolly and you might have to slow down for an Amish buggy or because you're distracted by sheep (I love sheep) and the occasional cute donkey.  Nicholas County lies on the top end of Bourbon County and is home to the sweet town of Carlisle.  You can even visit the doll & toy museum on Main Street in Carlisle if you're looking for something interesting (possibly creepy?) to kill some time.

Or, you can visit my fabulous new listing on Lake Carnico.  Better yet, you can buy it while you're there.   Trust me, you'll want to!  

The Underside of Joy: a book review

Sometimes a book hooks me on the setting. Sometimes I find a novel pulling me in with great characters or an amazing plot. The Underside of Joy by Sere Prince Halverson had it all -- a descriptively wrought setting that had the scent of redwoods and damp moss in the air, characters I wanted as my neighbors and a storyline I could discuss for days.

Years ago, I was part of a funny little Bible study at my church. We were all moms with young children and we met weekly. We were a fun mix of people, I think, well-educated but few of us had really read the Bible before on a regular basis.  We were all pretty much never afraid to say what we really thought even if it was irreverent and possibly sacrilegious. We seemed to have several discussion themes we came back to frequently, one being that there's no quick fix for anything, another that we as parents have a tendency to super-size things, and finally that joy was something different from happiness. Possibly that last theme was one of my favorites and derived directly from my go-to Carl Jung observation that there is no coming to consciousness without pain.



And there you have The Underside of Joy. Ella Beene is happily married to a wonderful man with two adorable children from a previous marriage living in an impossibly sweet town in Northern California. They seem to live a charmed and messy life full of nature hikes, great sex and organic food. In her happiness, Ella lives totally in the moment blissfully blind to anything that threatens the contentment of the life she has built with her husband and step-children -- did I mention that they are adorable. All of that changes in an instant and Ella is forced to look at the reality of her life, her family and what love really means.



One of my favorite parts of The Underside of Joy is the kind way that the author treats all of the characters. While told from Like real life, sometimes there isn't a bad guy. And as much as we sometimes want and need to blame someone else, that's not the way of responsibility or the way of love. 

I think I finished reading The Underside of Joy a wiser and more hopeful person than I started it.  And yes, I know it's fiction but a story doesn't have to be true to tell Truths.  Quite possibly, The Underside of Joy will be one of my favorite books I read this year.  And, don't be fooled by the girlie flower on the cover.  I handed the book to Marc when I finished it at the lakehouse.  He read it in less than 24 hours, handed it back to me and said, "I hope the next BlogHer Book Club book you get to read is as good as this one."

Just so you know, while I was compensated for this review for BlogHer, the opinions expressed here are always and entirely my own...