Author Archives: Jane Bretl

Frequent Foodie, Guest Blogger: Tom Jacobson

27 Wednesday May 2009

Posted by in Foodies, good reads

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Today I am happy to welcome another guest blogger to these pages —  Tom Jacobson: Frequent Flyer, Frequent Facebook writer and Frequent Foodie.  After 25 years, Tom and I reconnected via Facebook (he is the scholar of a past post), and we have enjoyed a lively correspondence in the last few months.  I enjoy his writing so much, I asked him to share some thoughts on his days.  After many posts chronicling just one Jane’s look at life, here is one Tom’s look at how social media has made life more interesting, with the limits still to be determined…

To Infinity and Beyond
By Tom Jacobson

The Internet changes things.  It warps the space-time continuum.  It changes people and our perception of people.  It gives each of us a new chance to explore things we have always wanted to, and allows others to see us through a different lens.  The New Yorker sure got it right back in 1993 when they first published the now famous Peter Steiner cartoon, “On the Internet, nobody knows you’re a dog!”  And while we aren’t dogs – except of course for Jane’s dog, but gosh that sure seems to work for her! – do our real-world lives match our cyber existences?

In life, I am a gadget-guy.  I love my toys.  I thrill at the fact that I can use my Palm, connected via Bluetooth to my cell, to go onto the Web, to program my DVR, all while standing in line at the airport.  It just doesn’t get any better than that!  (If you don’t believe me, ask the guy in your life.  He’ll confirm it.)

I am a salesman.  Yes, I took my masters degree in library science straight into the “vendor world” and ultimately fell to “the dark side” selling software to libraries.  Trust me I have heard all about it, and there are still nights I lay awake thinking about it.  But honestly, the goal is to connect with the library, explain the product, understand their issues, and solve their problems.  And when you do it right, you are a rock star!  Honest to God!  The whole room is on its feet, and at the end of the day you float out the door…  There is nothing to be gained from cutting corners and doing it any other way, so for the non-believers, you are just wrong.

I am a husband and a father.  Well at least on paper I am.  I say that because most days I have this nagging feeling that I am doing it wrong, though others assure me that feeling actually indicates I am doing it right…

I am all these things and more every day.  And yet when I log on to the Web, I am none of these things!  They are left behind when I beam myself up, and I come out the other side someone else.  Transformed.  And as you watch on your monitors, those bits of me that still remain are further diffused.

Yes, I can still be counted on for the one-liner wisecracks.  That’s me snarking on Jane’s Facebook wall in and between everyone else’s kind, encouraging words.  But with the ability to turn it off and on, looking in only when one wants to, the zings come across as they are meant, and the barbs are stripped away.

And if you look over at my Facebook wall, who am I?  A master chef!  Yes, a culinary prodigy planning, anticipating, cooking, plating, chronicling and devouring meal after succulent meal!  Don’t know what to have for dinner?  Just check it out and see if anything sounds good.  Wondering if a 7 and 8 year old will like Brussels Sprouts and Sea Scallops?  The answer is there.  Need a recipe for the best blueberry pancakes, down to which blueberries to use?  Just ping me, I have it on hand.  Advice on the magic of turning a chicken carcass into soup?  I’ll give it to you straight.  (By the way, if your kids don’t like the celery floating in soup, a hand blender takes care of that little problem, and they don’t even know it!)

Tom's LambLamb and Pasta w/ Greek Cinnamon-Tomato Sauce
with a Spinach, Leek & Feta Triangle

I’ve even developed a following among my FB friends.  The other weekend when I posted that I was “looking forward to the organic, grass-fed beef tenderloin filets”, an old college friend commented that I made “beef sound like a hot date!”  I was later accused of food-porn when I confirmed they were great, having rubbed them with a garlic and salt paste and drizzled olive on top, broiling them nicely and finishing mine with blue cheese, add to that golden pan-roasted potatoes and asparagus with balsamic and parmesan…

My brother-in-law is a follower too, though more of the type who tries, but can’t quite look away and is ashamed of himself later.

Tom's Sea Scallops

Brussels Sprouts with Sea Scallops

My Dad did the cooking while I grew up.  Not all of it, but the day-to-day while my Mom went to school and later worked.  I’ve always enjoyed cooking.  When the kids were born, it was the one thing I could really do effectively to keep the household on track.  In fact despite traveling very regularly in my job, I’ve come to do all the menu planning, shopping, and cooking, including those meals when I am not at home.  If I am out for three days in a week, that is three meals cooked and in the refrigerator before I leave.

My favorite was when my daughter asked a friend, upon learning that she did not have a Dad, “But who cooks your food?!”  The single mom looked wistfully my direction, and totally made my day!

Tom's Paprika-Potato OmletteSpanish Paprika-Potato Omlette, Chipolte Sausage with Carmelized Red
Onions, Lightly Dressed Salad and Cheese Bread

That is my thing.  And while I enjoy it and discuss it regularly, there was something about Facebook that just launched it in a whole new way.  Gadget-guy?  Salesman?  Husband and father?  No!  Top Chef!  Iron Chef!  Little Suzy Homemaker!!  You name it, there I am.  Micro-blogging the daily menu, and writing food-porn.  And loving every minute of it.

Have I discovered a new career?  Or simply a new outlet?  Am I a dog?  Or a master chef?  Is anybody even reading?  I have no idea.  But I know if this is possible after only a few short months, then who knows what strange corner of the galaxy this trip is going to take us to, but I can’t wait to get there.

Tonight’s menu you ask?  Fried chicken and my mother-in-law’s hoe cake.

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I am pretty sure I served waffles for dinner to my resident-picky-eaters on the day I first read Tom’s Facebook family dinner updates.  Looking at the pictures he posted, I figured he must take his young family out to restaurants often.  Then I found out it really was “what’s for dinner” at someone’s house…  Huh?   Whoa.   (Yum.)

Thank you Tom, for sharing your story and Facebook foodie experiences.  Keep us posted!  (And when can we all come over for dinner?)

discombobulation

26 Tuesday May 2009

Posted by in something important, I'm sure

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I always feel discombobulated when I fly.  It has never mattered how often I travel by air, formerly for business and now for pleasure — I land feeling slightly rearranged.    I am not afraid of flying;  but the process of going up and down so fast joggles up all my cells and I swear leaves some molecules in a different place.

I knew this weekend’s flight from Milwaukee would be no exception.  I was preparing to zoom through the air, and to try to hold all my cells together as I read my book along the way.  I had just passed the security checkpoint when I saw what I have waited for all my life:

The Recombobulation Station.

I could not make this up.

There it was, an area with chairs and a table and a BIG sign announcing this was the place to get myself recombobulated.  Where presumably people can reassemble themselves: put the shoes back on, and the belt, watch, jewelry, giant ring of important keys, the metal plate in their head and reinsert the pacemaker if needed.

I have craved recombobulation for a long time.  However, I was never really, really, really sure that discombobulated itself was even a real word, and there was its antithesis, right at the airport of all places, my epicenter of discombobulatedness.

I should have sat at the recombobulation station for a long time, as it surely would have done me good.  Especially right before I was to be beamed up on the StarShip Midwest Express by Scotty.  But it was time to hurry, hurry, hurry to the gate and get my roots tucked in for the flight home.

More on that later…

two sides to a coin

23 Saturday May 2009

Posted by in seasons

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We went shopping for flowers today, which is a trip to a candy store to me.  The peppermint striped petunias!  The lollipop topped geraniums!  Verbenas with gum drop bunches on the end of each branch!  Okay, that’s enough already!  I returned hungry to their house on the lake, and ready to get my hands dirty.

Most of my gardens are filled with perennials, which cuts down on the annual annual expenditures.  Invest once and enjoy for years (with some maintenance each month…).  However, nothing rivals the showy candy colors of annuals for the whole season in our zone.  If we could grow things that extravagant 12 months a year, I would have to, …well, I think my head would explode from the beauty.  Must have some winter gray to make these colors seem so bright.

Anyhoo, this trip to the nurseries was to find annuals for my mom, so I went a little cRaZy and called it a belated Mother’s Day gift (because you KNOW that the card did not arrive in time).   I get my love of flowers and green thumb from her.  It is special and rare to be here on a visit at this time of year, to be able to plant together.

We tried several stores to find just the right combo of eye candy, trying to support the local businesses instead of StuffMart.  The experience at the Farm and Home (Fleet Farm?  Farm & Fleet?  I get them mixed up) gave me pause…  after much searching for two geraniums that were an exact color match (because they do come in 5000 colors), I finally located one hanging pot and one on the ground.  The pots and plants were the exact same size, yet one was $7 more because it was a ‘hanging basket’ and one was a ’10” premium pot’.  Now I had a choice to make:

1.  Feeling cheated that I had to pay an extra $7 for the same thing.  What a rip-off!  And what the h*ll is a ‘fleet’ anyway?

OR

2. Feeling lucky that I got one for $7 cheaper.  What a deal!  And what helpful staff to help us find the only two matching colors in the place.

The situation is a constant; the only difference is the attitude I would choose.  Today is a happy day and I could easily choose #2.  Maybe today is a happy day because I chose #2.  Attitude can not be overestimated.

We found the greatest variety at the next stop, a local stand in a parking lot, and I was also happy to hand my money to this man who worked hard to sell these beautiful plants.  Actually, he took VISA so even the little guy has to keep up with the times.

Here in Wisconsin, the old fashioned lilacs are in spectacular bloom.  I could not figure out why I did not remember the sheer number and size of the lilacs in this part of the country; many are more like trees covered in purple, lavender and white blooms.  (Cotton candy!)  Then I realized I have not been here in May since my grandma’s funeral, 19 years ago.  Back then, I still took the lilacs for granted as, ho hum, something that happened ever year; big deal.  Now it’s a Big Deal again.  That alone was worth the price of admission.

wordsmithing again

20 Wednesday May 2009

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As someone who occasionally feels the need to wordsmith words to fit an occasion or circumstance, I enjoyed this list of Top Ten Favorite Words (Not in the Dictionary) from Merriam Webster.  Who doesn’t feel confuzzled on occasion when searching for just the right word?  Certainly when one is wordling, or twitterpating, it can happen.

NPR’s CarTalk, one of my fav radio programs, was the source of a new family favorite term: garage mahal.  As in, a garage of such ginormous size that it rivals the house itself in scope and grand design.  Once again, it is those funny folks over at Merriam Webster behind the list — who knew dictionary people were such a woot?  They have a stodgy reputation that is clearly not deserved.  (I would add library folk to that category as well;  turns out they can be quite clever with their humor.)

As my spell-checker has a conniption (real word!), I’ll dare to ask:

What are some of your favorite wordsmithed words?

blimpofied

To get you started, I’ll offer my newest:

*blimpofied*:  the uncomfortable state of digestion after ordering all-u-can-eat BBQ ribs at Walt’s Barn O’ Pork.

Hypothetical situation, of course.

a funny thing happened on the way

19 Tuesday May 2009

Posted by in get along like cats and dogs, Motherhood

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While on the way to the vet’s office for dear dog’s annual shot-fest and general probing, I received a call from a concerned neighbor.  She had been watching a large coyote in the adjacent yard with amazement and curiosity;  a very rare sight here in our burb.  She was taking pictures of the huge animal sunning itself, when she suddenly saw our cat heading in that direction, pursued by not one but two amorous tomcats.  (There has been a lot of catting around, a springtime hobby of Kitty and enviable aspect of the neutered cat pal lifestyle.)

The neighbor quickly realized the danger sweet Kitty was in, and reached me on my cell just as I pulled in to the vet office, stool sample and nervous dog in hand.  With visions of a possible trip right back to the vet with an injured (or worse) Kitty, I blew though the door blabbling some incoherent story about coyote and cat and neighbor.  They said “leave the dog and run!”, so I threw the leash and tossed the baggie of poo at the receptionist as I sprinted back out the door.

I am quite sure these people are not paid enough for what they do.

Long story short, after Kind Neighbor and I wandered through the woods calling her name (and listening for coyote footsteps), Kitty came trotting back out into the sunshine with her tail in its happy question mark shape.  I scooped her up before she could even rub against my ankles and carried her back home, with my nose nuzzled in her white fuzzy neck.

Her tomcat friends had made themselves scarce.  One boy in particular has been such a frequent admirer around our house that we have named him.  He is Buster.  We don’t know where he lives.  He is scruffy and tough and looks like he has packed a lot of living into about eight lives.  He is the lonesome cowboy of cats.  I imagined him faced with the coyote in the woods, his beloved female in danger, throwing himself in front of her just as the hungry beast with saliva-dripping fangs lunged for her neck, sacrificing his last life for his true love.  I thought if I never saw him again, I would know why.  And how could he not do it, when she is such a sweet girl?  Poor Buster.

his true love?

Of course Buster wandered through the backyard about three hours later, probably after his afternoon siesta, looking to see if she was outside again.  Apparently his hero services were not required.

Which leads me to the question: what to do now?  Kitty is an outdoors-loving cat, and not just because of her active social life.  She had been a stray kitten, and clearly loved being outside from the day she came to live with us.  All our previous cats had been indoor cats, but it was clear this one was happiest when allowed to roam around the garden and woods.  When she is outside, she looks like she is smiling.

Does the responsible pet owner do everything possible to prolong the pet’s life to its maximum, or let her sometimes go free to live a happy life that might be shorter?  Holding her in my arms, I wanted to protect her forever.  After her own nap, she wanted back out into the sunshine.  I let her go.  (Then last night I dreamed of finding nothing but white clumps of fur in the backyard the next day.)

I went back to get the dog, and thanked the understanding and caring staff at the vet’s office.  Back home, I pondered this familiar dilemma in the life of a grown-up: when to let go.  Of pets and kids and careers and life’s baggage.  Maybe pet decisions are good practice for the tween years.  Life is full of coyotes, but Kitty does not live in fear.  I’m still working on it.

what does friendship look like?

15 Friday May 2009

Posted by in Motherhood, seasons

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ubiquitous symbol of friendshipWhat makes us bond with certain people more closely than others?  And no matter how strong the bond, how long will it last when life keeps rolling along?  I’ve made truly wonderful friends during the years spent in Wisconsin, California, Minnesota and Ohio.  Through our tiny grade school, where 25 of us spent eight years growing up together.  In high school, during Latin class and play practices and tears at the curtain calls.  And college, where dorm living makes a village.  In each workplace, with lunch hours and water cooler chats and living through the familiar, ridiculous situations where any office becomes The Office.  Through each of the kids’ schools, working side by side with other parents on volunteer projects and where shared insights into each age makes each stage so much easier.  With each move came the new neighbors that became part of our lives, with shared driveways and snow blowers and perennials and lawn weeds and impromptu Friday nights sitting outside and sharing a beverage.  All of a sudden and 40 odd years later, I have hundreds of people scattered all over the country who were once a big part of my life.

So, each chapter has its own set of friends, born from close proximity and shared experiences.  As we move from place to place, moving on to the next chapter, each set goes through seemingly inevitable stages.  It feels weird.  How can someone have been so close to me for so long, so intertwined in my life — yet within a time after moving on, often the bond starts to let go?  The impermanence of it tugs at my heart.  It just doesn’t seem right.

Even as I grow older, and hopefully a little wiser, I still feel a sense of mourning for the friends that pass to the next stage. The phone calls get less frequent, the correspondence dwindles to only once a year, maybe a forwarded email joke or just the Christmas card.  Oh, the Christmas cards!  Every year, robed in the nostalgia and warm feelings of the holidays, I think of my far-flung friends and I want to send a card to all of them! *each with a handwritten personal note! * and I quickly become so completely overwhelmed that I don’t know where to start and I end up with a pre-printed message mailed on December 23rd. *Sigh*  Maybe I should start in March?

Because I don’t want to let go.

But the older I get, I also realize that the change of relationship does not have to be a mourned event.  We can let each other go, for now, so we have room in our heart for the next group of friends that are meant to be met.  The ones who are here, today.  It’s okay.  And, when we plan a trip to the town of the old friend, more often that not, the relationship can be instantly rekindled and within minutes we are laughing and reminiscing and talking about what has changed and it seems like just yesterday that we were together.  The friendship didn’t die, it just went dormant, like a flower who must take a break for the winter and when the spring comes it can pop back up.

Friendship feels so good, and it just makes sense that it is good for us too.  In her article, “What Are Friends For?  A Longer Life”, author Tara Parker-Pope discusses the scientific evidence behind what “the girlfriends” have known all along — having close friends by our side can make life healthier and happier.  The ones far way still keep us healthy too.

I have much admiration for those people who choose to maintain the lifelong friendships at an active level, with all the people along the way.  I have a friend who wrote letters to a cross-country, cross-generational friend for years.  They wrote to each other every day.  On actual paper, with an envelope and a stamp.  That is so poignant to me, such a gift.  I have trouble mailing a card to anyone on time, and technically I know the date of the birthday a year in advance.  But hopefully my friends and family know it is not that I don’t love them, it is an implementation issue.  Or maybe it is a completion issue.  I also have trouble getting started.  It’s complex.

Big D and I have an old joke, a sitcom (Seinfeld?) scenario where only people who are “interviewing for friends” will potentially still have openings.  Like many sitcom jokes, it is the nugget of truth that makes it so funny.  I’ve lived here longer than I have lived anywhere since my childhood home, but I still have openings.  I’ll welcome the new people I am meant to meet.  I’m keeping all the wonderful memories from all the friends along the way, until our paths cross again.  In the meantime, here is what friendship looks like to me.

DSC_0055

open the windows

11 Monday May 2009

Posted by in good reads, Motherhood, Photography

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CBW09_PosterToday marks the beginning of Children’s Book Week, May 11 – 17.  What a perfect week to celebrate the tradition of reading with our children and out loud to our children.  Surprise them with a new book from library or for them to keep!  (Ideally, let’s make our purchase at an independent bookseller — they need our support.)

Click the tab “For Kids” on the website, and find a downloadable bookmark and door hanger designed by artist Dan Yaccarino; and story starters by authors such as Mary Pope Osborne, Barbara Park, Jon Scieszka and more — they provide the opening paragraph to encourage younger kids to write their own tales.

Teens are encouraged to write their own book reviews and post them.

From the Children’s Book Council:

“A celebration of the written word, Children’s Book Week introduces young people to new authors and ideas in schools, libraries, homes and bookstores. Through Children’s Book Week, the Children’s Book Council encourages young people and their caregivers to discover the complexity of the world beyond their own experience through books.”

Even GeekDad, a Wired Magazine blog, is on board.  I love their tagline, “raising geek generation 2.0”.  Read on, geekdads!

This is also the week that the Children’s Book Council announces the winners of the Children’s Choice Awards.  The list of books nominated for the Children’s Choice Awards is broken out by age group, through teens.

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I love books.

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Reading opens new windows into the world for all of us.

window to another place

it’s odd, but not really

07 Thursday May 2009

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Geek alert!  We celebrated Square Root Day this spring, and now the mathematical hi-jinks continue.  Today, 5/7/09, is Odd Day,  one of only six times this century that the date is made up of three consecutive odd numbers.  Here is The Ode to Odd, from oddday.net:

As Odd as it is, the day will be fine,
You see, it’s the numbers 5,7, and 9.
Three odds in a row to tell you the date,
We’ve only three more, then a 90-year wait.

Ron Gordon, a math teacher from Redwood City, California, knows how to make numbers more fun for kids and adults.  Here is some more fodder from his website (sorry, I couldn’t resist):

“Things to do on Odd Day: It’s a great day to do your odds ‘n ends, give a friend a high-five, root for the odds-on-favorite, read the Wizard of Odds, watch the Odd Couple, say aaaahd in the doctor’s office, look for sea odders, find that missing odd sock, and beat the odds.”

“These days are like calendar comets—you wait and wait and wait for them, then they brighten up your day—and poof—they’re gone!”

I celebrate people who celebrate things like Odd Day.  It is astounding and discouraging how early in life kids become convinced that math is boring and hard.  Can you imagine a more important time in history for kids to believe that math is cool?  This teacher enthusiastically promotes these numerical holidays, and is even offering a contest (it pays $579).  Indirectly, along the way, he also teaches one of my favorite mottoes:

Geek is the New Cool !

carry on, girlfriend

06 Wednesday May 2009

Posted by in Motherhood, seasons, Writing

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My friend Joan’s stories been such a joy to read from day one; with each story I learn more about her as a woman, a parent, a survivor and a friend.  She writes with an honesty and humor that I find refreshing.  Recently she wrote a sweet story of how one word has epitomized each stage of motherhood for her.  She carries on, following her path even when the turns ahead are not yet clear.

dsc_00541Sometimes we all just keep going out of faith that our efforts will pay off in the end.  I planted these flowers at the end of last season.  The grocery store was giving them away, because it had reached the time of year when no one in their right mind would still plant pansies, even though they can overwinter in this zone; it depends on the year.  I took three flats worth and felt very lucky to have shopped there that day. I am a sucker for unwanted plants; I think it is an odd personality trait.  I will take any unwanted plant and find it a home, on my property or at school.  This soft spot for unwanted things is a compelling reason for me to not volunteer at an animal shelter… it would be disastrous for our household!  Also, I should not work at Goodwill.  Or the library book sale.

I knelt on the cold ground and tucked in the sad little flowers.  They bloomed a bit late last fall, but the snow soon came and frankly they all looked like goners. I silently berated myself for once again spending time on irrational pursuits instead of the dozens of unfinished projects I have around here.

Spring came, and some didn’t make it.  But some did.  Each time I walk out my front door, these beauties say to me,

“Voila!  Violas!”

They bring me more joy than many of the expensive plants that I just expect will come up each year.  They say to me, “Just carry on, and some things will work out, and others won’t, but there will be beauty if you look down at where you are.”

Like Joan, I find that stories bubble up from underground.  There are so many stories waiting for the right time to pop out and surprise someone.  The ideas are there for the taking; they just need a place to grow for a while before they bloom.  They just need me to set aside my logical pursuits and let them be.

biblioburro

04 Monday May 2009

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I have a warm spot in my heart for the bookmobile of my youth.  To me, it was a rolling candy store, a literary ice cream truck without the canned music and creepy tattooed guy handing out melted treats.  Just a nice lady with loads of books.  Yum!

This quiet video made me smile, with the story of one man and his mission to bring books to even the most remote areas of Columbia.

Luis Soriano has two donkeys, 4800 books, and what must be a big heart.  Biblioburro, a truly off-road bookmobile.  Because every child needs books to read, and someone to read to them.

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