Morning routines

This is our favorite part of the morning. We are enjoying it for now, cause in a few months morning strolls in the cold wet air and snow won't be so nice.

Stoop-or-treat

This was our first year trick-or-treating in quite some time. I unfortunately remember being one of those annoying teenagers who trick-or-treated well past the age they should have, painting my face as a poor excuse for a costume, just for candy. There were certainly plenty of those kids out last night, but it only enhanced the energy of the neighborhood. The typical crowds of adults were replaced by costumed kids running up and down stoops yelling trick-or-treat. The beautiful brownstones with their grandiose stoops served as amazing backdrops for the jack-o-lanterns, costumes, and kids. I wish Luke could spend more of his Halloween's here, I loathe the idea that next year he might be going store to store in the local mall.

I also can't help but fear that Luke will someday want a store bought costume instead of a homemade one.

Pies and music

Every year we attend the chili/pie cook-off, and every year I am determined my pies will win. I thought this would definitely be my year, it was probably the last I would enter, and I was entering two pies, the stars would absolutely align on this one. This year, over twenty pies were entered. Chocolate pies, berry pies, and way too many to compete with, apple pies, including mine. Sadly, my pies did not win, although they should have. I mean, who are these pie judges anyway? They picked a peanut butter fluff pie, surely the judges from Top Chef with their finely tuned pallets would have picked my fudge pecan and caramel apple pies as the standouts in the competition.  I was so sure I would win, I even had Tom snap this photo of me before we left, ready for the cook-off logo to be photoshopped in just so I could have a picture of me with my winning pie before it was gone.

One of them should at least have won for presentation, although that wasn't a category.
(mine are the first two).

How did the carmel apple pie win the 2003 pie bake off for the food network and not win the park slope ward pie bake off?  Tart apples, yummy crust, with a layer of english toffee? Click here for the recipe. I suppose it was cheating kinda, but its not like any of us are chefs, the recipes had to come from somewhere. But the fudge pecan pie recipe comes from my mom, although she probably got it from somewhere or someone too.

Fudgy Pecan Pie

1 unbaked pastry shell (9 inches)
1 package of (4 oz) German sweet chocolate
1/4 cup butter
1 can of sweetened condensed milk
1/2 cup water
2 eggs beaten
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 cup chopped pecans

Filling
1 cup cold milk
1 package instant chocolate pudding mix
1 cup whipped topping

Whipped topping
1 cup whipping cream
1 T. confectioners sugar
1 tsp. vanilla extract

Line unpricked pastry shell with a double thickness of heavy duty foil. Bake at 450 for 5 minutes. Remove foil and set shell aside. Reduce heat to 375. In a heavy saucepan, melt chocolate and butter. Remove from heat;stir in milk and water. Add a small amount of hot chocolate mixture to eggs;return all to pan. Stir in vanilla and salt. Pour into shell;sprinkle with nuts. Cover edges with foil. Bake for 35 minutes or until a knife inserted near the center comes out clean. Remove to a wire rack to cool completely. Ina mixing bowl, beat milk and pudding mix until smooth. Fold in whipped topping. Spread over nut layer; cover and refrigerate. In a mixing bowl beat cream until soft peaks form. Add sugar and vanilla, beating until stiff peaks form. Spread over pudding layer. Refrigerate until set, about 4 hours.

In addition to not winning the pie contest, I also forgot to add the honey to my corn bread, and broke a string on my violin. I wait all year to make and eat this cornbread, its much to dangerous to make more often than once, and I just plain forgot.  I was so sad as I sat down to eat it with my chili.  As for the music and my string, a group of us get together once a month and "jam". We usually play our own variations on pieces from the Arcade Fire, Beirut, Wilco, etc. but for the event we decided to keep it real with Give Said the Little Stream, My Darlin' Clementine, and B.I.N.G.O., you know, for the kids. I had to cut my solos down with the absence of my string, but overall it was fun, and the crowd went crazy. This clip is a tiny snippet of what we played.

I have fallen in love all over again......

After several months of it being "misplaced".
Funny how a ring can mean so much in so many ways.

A hernia tale

It started back in January, a dull pain that came and went usually while I was running or lifting weights centered in my lower right abdomen. For the next few months it got progressively worse up until I think it was in May, I was convinced I needed to go to the E.R. just in case it was an incarcerated hernia. I had been throwing up and huddled in a ball that entire weekend, so it seemed somewhat justified. After spending an entire day and my entire fortune, it turned out to just be ruptured cyst on one of my ovaries.

Long story made short, a month later I was shopping (surprise) and my hand brushed against a large bump on my abdomen. I pulled Tom into the dressing room and there it was popping out at me. A hernia. I went to the E.R. two more times for it, the last time being more justified, and this last Thursday it was to be removed once and for all. I put it off for some time due to us not having insurance and scheduling conflicts, my doctor's fault.

Generally speaking, hernia's really aren't that big of a deal unless they get backed up. They shouldn't cause you any pain and the surgery shouldn't be too invasive. In and out is what they told me. Athletes are usually back to exercising just days after. I of course planned on the same. I thought I would take the train home after the surgery, go apple picking the next day, and then really enjoy my first weekend back with Tom and my visiting sister. Tom thankfully thought otherwise, took the day off work, brought me to the hospital for my 7:45am check in time, complete with an empty stomach. Finally at 10:30 am it was my turn to get in my gown, booties, and cap and lay on my stretcher. I couldn't help but chuckle as the different doctors re-explained each and every procedure they would be doing on me, had me sign various consent forms, I mean did it have to be so dramatic? wasn't this a minimally invasive surgery? They then wheeled me into the surgery room and very quickly several monitors were stuck all over my chest and the nurse said "just a few breaths of this gas", and I was out.

I awoke in a different room. I could barely make out the different patients lying beside me and in front of me. And I really don't remember anything more about it except for waking up in more pain than I expected and asking for more morphine. After asking for Tom over and over in my brief moments of awakeness, they finally wheeled me to the recovery room. The next few hours were also a blur. I asked for more pain relievers, they gave them to me, with also a good dose of nausea. But instead of throwing up, I just burped. The surgery was done via camera so my stomach was blown up with air. In fact, I still look 4 months pregnant, 3 days later. During my stay, I was fortunate to overhear  other patients recovering from hernia surgery, they
seemed to be doing just fine, what was my problem?  I was so over tired, sick, and pained, I
could barely speak, walk, or stay awake. After complaining, my doctor explained that  women don't get hernia's often, and men of course recover much quicker. After mustering up the energy and core strength to make it to the bathroom a few times, I lied, and said I did go, just so I could leave before everyone else did for the night.

But my first night home wasn't any better. I puked and puked, for hours it felt like. The only thing I had eaten in the last day and a half was a saltine cracker that tasted like paste from the lack of saliva I had left in my mouth.  But somehow I worked something up each time. I didn't get out of bed the next day either. Luckily I had a few vampire books to keep my mind off of the pain and never ending nausea.

But here I am Saturday. I had my first real meal this evening including dessert, it was delicious. And I am now just finishing up this post which has taken me three days.  My record keeping and recovery has gone something like this: paragraph, small bite of food, nap, paragraph, vampires, paragraph, nap. Real productive.

Will I miss my hernia? maybe. But thankfully I will have three little scars to always remind me of the time it spent with me. The strange looks I got when I told people about it, the many many trips to the hospital and doctor's office I took for it, and how my experience was quite a bit different everyone else's, will never be forgotten.