I hate hate HATE the task of writing narratives for grant and fellowship applications.
Just thought I'd share. Yeah, I know: free money, no job. It's well worth it and I am an ungrateful wretch to complain about it.
It's just the endless need for self-promotion that drags me down.
(Homer Simpson: "I am so great, G-R-A-T, great. D'oh!")
Jeff Opdyke writes for the Wall Street Journal, and our local Sunday paper carries his column on "Love and Money," in which he talks about negotiating financial values within the family. How to decide which is better: a higher-paying job with longer hours or a lesser job allowing more time with the family? What's it worth to structure your kid's education with lots of (costly) enriching activities, versus letting them have more free time to explore their own creativity? And so forth.
Two Sundays ago (yeah, sometimes it takes me awhile to get to these) he did a roundup of the nastygrams he'd gotten on recent columns, including one on the costs and benefits of being the house on the block where everyone's kids congregate. In short, the financial costs of providing snacks for all the kids on a daily basis really add up over time. But on the other hand, you know where your kids are and you can feel good about providing a safe environment for them and for their n'hood friends.
Well, Opdyke got beaten up pretty well for the snacks part, because someone wrote in and ripped him for providing semi-junk food to the neighborhood kids without ever checking with their parents to make sure that particular kind of food was "acceptable."
Now, in the case of food allergies, maybe she has a point. BUT even so: kids with food allergies have to be taught to be proactive about their own food intake, because mom and dad won't be around every minute to watch out for them. And in the other cases - well, it's not like you're running a neighborhood restaurant and should have to stock the particular things that are acceptable to other families. And it's really not fair to the kids to single them out and say, well, go call your mom so we can figure out if you can have this snack bar (while all your friends are sucking it down).
To me this sort of expectation that you should be able to have proxy control over your kids at all times seems symptomatic of a new emerging divide in this country: the overprotected kids, for whom everything is provided, everything is scheduled, and everything is done; and the underprotected kids, who get not enough guidance and help to learn to make good choices throughout childhood. (Although, when you think about it, the first group might not be getting a lot of help in progressively more scope of decision-making, since a lot of decisions get made for them.)
We've long worried about the second group. But the first group is gonna have some issues - say, when they get to be 17 and get a car, and have virtually unlimited freedom for the first time. The long parental arm continues to extend though - everyone I know (myself included) has had to hear from the parents of their (college) students at one point. I'm sure my parents never dreamed of "interfering" in my college life - and thankfully colleges have rules to prevent such interference.
To me this need for control at all costs seems to be a weird and disturbing meld of hyperconsumerism (I want what I want, exactly how and when I want it) and notions of collective responsibility (it takes a village) for raising the next generation. Disturbing, because, while there IS a belief in sharing responsibility (look for example at all the social work schools have to do now), there's also a belief that those to whom one delegates temporary responsibility for one's children must care for them EXACTLY as one would have done, had one been caring for them.
People are nicer - and more trusting - really, they are, here in the Great Center. I am losing my "edge," the cynical, mistrustful exterior that allows me to function in society on the East Coast.
Example. Last week, J called in a panic because his car died and he needed to borrow a car to drive to work. B and I went over there in both cars, and he drove off in my car, frazzled. Frazzled because: is it fixable? What will it cost? Will I be late? etc - but alas in his worry he didn't leave his car keys; the car was locked up; it had WI plates; and we didn't have title or registration or any identifying documents to suggest that we were empowered to deal with this situation. Nada.
Nevertheless, the AAA-dispatched truck came and towed it to our place of choice, no problem. We even had a delightful conversation about the weather! But not before we had various imaginary conversations and what-ifs amongst ourselves trying to figure out how we'd convince the tow guy that we weren't just random car thieves looking to heist this poor out-of-stater's vehicle to our favorite chop-shop.
Amazing. This could NOT happen in MA. "sorry, ma'am, it's policy. We have to have proof that you are authorized to move this car." Every time that I think "people are people" I get evidence that there really are important regional differences, not just the superficial "you betcha" and lutefisk that passes for pop MN culture.
But oh, this slaw is so tasty.
Combine a shredded carrot (I use the old-fashioned grater), a diced up kiwi fruit, and about 3/4 to 1 C of chopped red cabbage in a bowl.
Drizzle a little peanut oil, a splash of sesame oil, some rice vinegar, a squeeze of half a fresh lime, and a dash of soy sauce over the vegetables, and stir in. Sprinkle in a handful of chopped cilantro and stir.
Ok, back to Polish verbs of motion. It depends, you know, on whether: the trip is on foot or by conveyance; one-way or round trip; one-time or habitual; and whether the focus is on the process of travel or on the origin/destination. I may lose my mind....
I just don't really like sandwiches, so mostly we have a hot lunch. Today's entree was curried cauliflower bisque (well, there was no milk or cream, but it tasted creamy from the milk in the mashed potatoes) with a side salad of celery, tomatoes, radishes and parsley.
Saute 1 chopped onion and 2 cloves garlic in olive oil.
Stir in chopped leftover cauliflower (about 1/2 head) and 2 t curry powder (or to taste)
Add 1 C chicken broth and 1 C water (use veg broth or water if you are a vegetarian/vegan)
Bring to boil and cook for 5 or so minutes; stir in and break up about 1 C leftover mashed potatoes.
Season with a couple of dashes of white pepper. (If you used commercial broth you probably don't need to add salt.)
Bring to boil again; transfer to blender and puree until smooth.
Pour immediately into bowls. Serves 2, just barely. Your companion will probably want MORE. Be careful of the precedent you set if you share yours. I'm just saying.
When I was little, I used to keep a mental inventory of things I could do if ever my parents left us alone unexpectedly for a short while (happened almost never, but it's good to be prepared). The only thing I can remember was that I was dying to drink coffee, which they wouldn't allow ("Stunts your growth." Believe me, I am SO not stunted - so maybe they were right.) Anyway, one afternoon they were out, and we made coffee, by placing a spoonful of instant coffee in a cup and filling it with hot water from the tap. (Apparently, actually HEATING water on the stove would have been TOO transgressive.) Probably we didn't know that others drank it with milk and/or sugar, but lukewarm instant black coffee totally sucked, and that was the end of coffee for me until I got to college.
B. and the neighbors have gone to the movies, and I'm home alone, which is fairly rare. They were barely in the car when I was boiling water for capellini with red sauce (al sugo). It's one of my favorite meals (no need to boil the sauce, so it's like instant dinner, and cleanup is minimal), but we don't have it very often, because pasta isn't B's thing. Helas. I could eat pasta with red sauce every day.
As a special treat, I had an artichoke heart straight from the jar. Yeah, I know: life ON THE EDGE. Pathetic.
Also, I read last Sunday's local paper and am mentally preparing a screed for tomorrow on Jeff Opdyke's reader-response to his article on feeding neighborhood kids. It's just ridiculous how some parents think - and evidence of Giddens' (?) thesis that media/consumerism has saturated the world to the exclusion of all rationality. More to come.
I am about to go file my directed study application for Polish, which has gotten me thinking about strategic study of Polish this term, my last, probably.
We are supposedly going to converse more this term, which is good. But to be able to deal with that, I'm going to have to work on listening/speaking during the week. The (self-critical) question occurred to me the other morning: why would I expect to get better at listening/understanding when I never do it? Studying written grammar improves only understanding written grammar.
Also, I really want to build useful vocabulary, above and beyond the relatively artificial vocab presented in the textbook. My first step will be to download and format the Polish text from the Nowa Huta promotional website, and start to work on a translation. It would also be good to find some geographical materials and begin to learn the vocabulary of planning and geography.
In other news - the usual first-week flurry of meetings and tasks. It's discouraging because my time is so fragmented that I feel I'm already not meeting my self-expectations about dissertation work. But then again, this week is an anomaly, and I hope that next week will be more "normal" and that I will begin to have the fairly large blocks of uninterrupted time to work on research that I have been planning for.
It is beginning to snow. I'm looking forward to walking across the bridge and campus.
I lost my recipe for Pork Adobo some weeks ago, and even though I make it often, I didn't quite remember the proportions and types of spices involved in the marinade. But B said, isn't that in your blog, and lo, it was, back in May. It's exciting that my blog is smarter than I am.
Here's last night's contribution to more interesting eating in 2006.
Citrus-Balsamic Pork Chops (adapted from Joy of Cooking). Serves 2.
Saute 1 small chopped onion in olive oil
When it's translucent, stir in a couple of pinches of ground allspice and a T of honey.
Push onion mixture to the sides, and brown 2 pork chops, salting and peppering.
Add some lemon zest and a couple of spoonfuls of fresh lemon juice to pan; add enough chicken stock or broth so that you can braise the chops (about 1/2 C in my saute pan).
Cook chops until done. (Not OVERdone, the way I did.)
Remove chops; add a splash of balsamic vinegar and reduce sauce until thickened, scraping up the brown bits. (Not black, as in my case, because I burned the onions.) Next time, I'm gonna try adding a little flour in water to thicken it and gloss it up.
Bathe the chops back in the sauce to warm them; serve over rice.
I thought the allspice and honey were an interesting variation. I think I might add a little more honey. The original recipe doesn't call for zest, but I have found in the past that lemon juice itself isn't enough to sustain lemon flavor in cooking. For that, you really need the zest.
Went to the MOA (Mall of America) today for the last of our Christmas shopping. That sounds weird, but we did all our shopping on the East Coast after we got there, and it didn't make sense to buy stuff THERE and have to ship it back HERE for Midwest friends. Already we had to ship a 40 pound box of other stuff back.
So, I reached into my bag to pay for B's gift, and...NO WALLET!!!!! He had to pay for it himself - tacky, I know, but I was too busy hyperventilating to be embarrassed. I spent the next 90 minutes completely obsessing (aloud, of course: share the joy) about my whereabouts for the last 24 hours in an effort to recall when I'd last seen the wallet, and what were the likely possibilities as to where it might have ended up.
I remembered that my pocketbook had been lighter than usual when I picked it up to go out today (which I'd attributed to lack of cell phone): that suggested that perhaps I'd never had the wallet at all today. So that sort of ruled out pickpockets at the mall - a relief since there'd been some sketchy characters here and there - and suggested that I'd left it at the club* last night.
When we got home, there it was on the pedestal next to the telephone. Whew!! No further need to mentally inventory my credit cards and other identifiers. I had no money in it, as usual, of course - but I would have been bummed to lose my new Expensive Coffee Shop gift card.
*Our friend C played his first gig in Mpls in a long time (if not ever) and we went with some other friends. I hardly ever hear live music; it was a good time. And smoke-free bars - what a total thrill to come home and not have to shower at once and then burn your clothes.
More tomorrow. I'm gonna try to get back in the blog thing.