Raptors on Hoverboards

Oh, yeah, that's my hometown, baybee. I don't get the reference, but it just seems to make sense anyway.

I know a lot of you have been worried about me because there's been radio silence on this here board for several weeks. And I won't lie to you, it's been a shitty time. My ex turned out to be a Jekyll and Hyde asshole, who had been lying to me for the better part of 2008. And G doesn't exactly want to marry me quite as much as I do him. Happy Holidays, indeed.

But in rough times, your true friends are there for you, being awesome. And I have to say, I've been blessed with some very very supportive folks who have taken excellent care of me -- lending an ear as I go on and on, taking me out to entertain and distract me, giving me a port in the storm to escape to, or just rocking out. Big hugs and love to Jay, Trilby, Lynn, Tussy, Andrew, Jane, Denise, Josh, Jess, Jonathan, Margaret, Michael, Jason, Kendra, Ellie, Rodger, Isabel, Amanda, Brian, Ian, Zanne, Ron, Carlos, Pierrette, David, Simona, and my folks. I don't know how I would have kept my head above water without you all. But I do know that would never even be something to worry about, because I'll always have you close to my heart.

I'm off to New Haven this week, to ring in a well-deserved new year with old friends, in fine fashion and with many bubbles. I wish you all the best, and I look forward to catching up more soon.

Virgin in Springfield hospital window

Haneway's dad is in the hospital, with the end stages of lung cancer. If you're the praying type, please send some his way, and for her whole family while you're at it. He's an amazing guy, and while we've all had about a year to prepare for the possibility of losing him, it's still hard, of course.

I'm going out to visit him today. At this hospital.

I love religious phenomena, and this reminds me of the one that touched our family during Cancerpalooza and its continued aftermath a few years ago. And I hope this is a good sign for his prognosis.

But I'm not looking forward to the crowds of the faithful, nor the cynicism of the detractors.

Daily horocscope confusion

Scorpio (10/23-11/21)

You might not realize it, but you make a very good role model! The younger people in your life could learn a lot from your ideas and attitudes, so why not be more open with them today? Despite what you might think about the younger generation, they are genuinely interested in what you have to say -- they just might be a little too shy to ask you. Open up the lines of communication and start a conversation that you know they want to have. You will find the experience quite fulfilling.

See, this is why I almost never read horoscopes anymore (though I still have the blog tag, apparently).

1. I am a horrible role model. Seriously, I have no ambition, terrible time management skills, worse knifing skills, and an aversion to commitment.
   
2. All the kids I know have perfectly fine ideas and attitudes, thankyouverymuch. If anything I could learn from them.
   
3. Open communication? .... okay.... well, actually, there is this conversation I've been avoiding (like I do). Maybe I just needed this kick in the pants.

Or maybe I should just visit my nieces and teach them to crochet....

Welcome to the Monkey House!

Create your own family sticker graphic at pYzam.com

Thanks much, Killer Mango!

All My Georges

Okay, so my husband is gorgeous, charming, funny... yeah, yeah, we all know that already.

What I'm finding funny lately, and what this clip reinforced for me today, is how much, as he gets gently older, he's beginning to look like my dad.

(oh, yes, Dad's a hottie. Hands off, ladies!)

The Nonna Files

When I was little, I used to watch my grandmother cook. She didn’t write anything down, so neither did I. I thought I’d learned her recipes, kept them in the muscle memory of my hands.

I grew up, she passed away, I worked more and cooked less. One day I realized I couldn’t remember anymore.

I feared it was too late. But when I told her friends M and A my regret, I discovered they'd all shared recipes, and the friends had written them down. Now every week we pull out the card file, and I learn a new dish. Some were from my grandmother, some are M or A’s, and some were scrawled on the back of a paper plate during a party, source unknown. But each recipe, I assure you, is from someone’s Italian grandmother.

Lesson #1: Pizzelle

Sure, you can buy them in the market in those plastic boxes, but homemade is better. The only problem is that to make them at home, you need an iron to press out the cookies, and maybe you don’t want another very specialized appliance in your kitchen.

When I confessed to A that I’d always preferred her pizelle to my grandmother’s, she laughed because she uses my grandmother’s recipe. Here’s her secret: A doesn’t use a regular pizzelle iron, she uses an old Black Angus sandwich grill, which has an adjustable hinge height, so it doesn’t press as tight.

So if you like your pizzelle thin and light and crisp, and you have lots of storage space in your kitchen, get a pizzelle iron. But if you prefer a slightly denser cookie with a little more heft, you could experiment with a patterned sandwich press. Or you could search eBay for a Black Angus.

3 cups flour
1 ½ cups sugar
2 ½ tsp. baking powder
6 eggs
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, melted
1 tsp. vanilla
1 tsp. anise extract

Sift flour, sugar and baking powder into a large bowl. In a small bowl, beat the eggs lightly, then stir into dry ingredients. Add melted butter and extracts, and stir by hand until batter is smooth and glossy. Let batter rest for half an hour. While batter rests, heat up the iron, get it good and hot.

Put a little butter on a paper towel and grease the iron plates up well, then wipe of any excess. You only have to do this before you start pressing cookies; after the first batch, the butter in the batter will keep the plates lubed up.

Drop a teaspoon of batter into the center of each circle on the press, close it, and squeeze the handles together for about five seconds. Then let go and let cook for about 45 seconds. (Cook times will vary depending on your iron. Experiment with your first few batches, until you figure out how long it takes to achieve golden brown deliciousness.)

Carefully peel the cookies off the iron plates, using a table knife to protect your fingertips. Lay cookies flat on clean dish towels to cool. Once they’re cool, stack them and store in an airtight container.

While the pizzelle are right off the iron and still warm, they’re soft and malleable. If you’re so inclined and can work fast, twirl them into a cone shape or press them into a bowl, to serve ice cream.

Thank God for Michael J. Fox

Ten years ago, on October 25, 1997, my beloved grandfather died. I can just now, occasionally, think of him without crying at the ache of missing him.

My grandfather had Parkinson's. He began to manifest symptoms in 1988, when this disease was woefully misunderstood and often misdiagnosed (muscle tremors, Alzheimer's), and effective treatments were not yet available (Benadryl).

In the past 20 years, diagnosis, understanding and treatment have improved exponentially. I have often said exactly what Fox talks about in this video -- "Thank God that Michael J. Fox and Muhammad Ali have Parkinson's," as their illness has raised awareness and funding for research. (Not that I would ever wish this illness on anyone, of course, but there is a silver lining to this tragedy.)



The best thing about Parkinson's is that we can cure it. Parkinson's is one of the strongest candidates for eradication with Stem Cell treatment. This is, of course, also the most frustrating thing, as stem cell research gets bogged down in political bullshit.

Parkinson's hijacks your body while leaving your mind intact. It's a prison. Please be alert to the symptoms, give what you can, and fight for stem cell research.

And give thanks to Michael J. Fox.

Ninjas, aging, and family chitchat

IMing with my cousin today:

maggieb: nice talking to you, however briefly, last night
maggieb: So what was that character's name?
DCP: Usagi Yojimbo
maggieb: and who was he?
DCP: to be entirely correct, the character was the star of his own comic book series, and he only guest-starred with the ninja turtles every once in a while
DCP: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Usagi_Yojimbo
maggieb: you are a font of knowledge
maggieb: love you
DCP: love ya too
DCP: font of useless geeky knowledge
DCP: I certainly hope this info helps you win a bet or something
maggieb: well, after my bowling pratfall last night
maggieb: I need to contribute something worthwhile to the team
maggieb: You know how I used to complain that I was old?
maggieb: now I actually am
maggieb: I have injured my hip in a BOWLING accident!

Yeah, my family's not connected either.

I know I might have fooled you with a "last name" like Kennedy. But in reality I am a first-generation Italian, 100 percent. In New England, where I grew up (hence the "Kennedy" moniker), there were few enough Italians around that *I* was most people's example, or stereotype, of what we're like. That is, Northern Italian, tall, bilingual (and pretty well-spoken in both), college educated. More Giorgio Armani than Tony Soprano, shall we say.

It wasn't until I moved to New York that anyone had the temerity to think I might have Mob connections. One guy who was trying to pick me up in a bar dashed all his chances by insisting repeatedly that my grandfather was a mafioso, because of course he knew my grandfather better than I did (hah). For the record, my dad's a physics professor. And the closest I've ever come to the Mafia was when a former (WASP) coworker's boyfriend's brother (did you follow that?) had his car blown up over bad gambling debts. So there.

(And if you're wondering where the Maggie comes from, this bridge is near my house in Tuscany.)