So, it's finally Fall down here in Texas-- the temperatures have dropped into the seventies, the air is crisp and clear and my favorite time of year is just around the corner. In honor of it finally getting cooler, I'm posting one of my all-time favorite recipes for a mediterranean stew.
Vegetable Stew
3-4 tbsp. margarine or butter
1 large onion, grated
1 1/2 lbs. stewing beef
3 cans tomato sauce
salt and pepper to taste
2 lb bag of frozen green beans or peas
Start by melting the margarine in a Dutch Oven and grating the onion into the warm pot. Let the onion cook for a couple minutes and then add the meat. Brown the meat on all sides, then turn the temperature down, put on a lid and let the meat and onion stew for about an hour. Add the three cans of tomato sauce and six cans of water (2 per each can of tomato sauce). Salt and pepper to taste. Bring to a boil and then cover, reducing the heat. Let stew for 2-3 hours. Then bring the mixture back to a boil and add-- gradually, to keep the temperature high-- the frozen green beans or peas. Let cook for at least another hour. Serve in a big bowl over rice.
This recipe is great if made in the morning and allowed to sit all day. It's also wonderful the next day-- of course, we rarely have leftovers in my house-- my boys love this stew.
Enjoy:) and Happy Halloween everyone!
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Friday, October 26, 2007
It's the weekend again.
Friday afternoon is the best part of the work week for me. I love doing a little tidying around my desk and a little fixing up around my office. All in honor of disappearing from my workspace until Monday.
But, alas, it doesn't always work that way. Each Friday I promise myself I won't go into my office NO MATTER WHAT. No sirree. I'm going to go have a little fun.
And yet each weekend I can't resist checking in with whatever project I was working on when Friday afternoon rolled around.
And so it is this Friday. I have a proposal that has been taking my attention all day. I have a workshop idea that needs my time, and of course there's email....
But, I deserve this weekend with its spread of fall leaves...the wind blowing in the trees.
And the most beautiful harvest moon I could ever have imagined.
Stella MacLean
But, alas, it doesn't always work that way. Each Friday I promise myself I won't go into my office NO MATTER WHAT. No sirree. I'm going to go have a little fun.
And yet each weekend I can't resist checking in with whatever project I was working on when Friday afternoon rolled around.
And so it is this Friday. I have a proposal that has been taking my attention all day. I have a workshop idea that needs my time, and of course there's email....
But, I deserve this weekend with its spread of fall leaves...the wind blowing in the trees.
And the most beautiful harvest moon I could ever have imagined.
Stella MacLean
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Loss
Several weeks ago, my eighty-seven year old uncle died. He'd suffered from Alzheimer's for the past few years and was already in precarious health, so when he succumbed to the sudden onset of pneumonia, his death was not unexpected, and even seemed merciful. In his final year, he had slipped gradually away from his family, drifting further into a world that even my aunt, his beloved wife of sixty-three years, couldn't truly share.
He was one of the most honest, decent men I've ever known.
They met on a cross-country train trip, during WWII—when he was still a handsome young naval officer on his way to ship out and she a student nurse. "It was really a pickup!" she told her older sister—my mother. "But I told Mom my best friend introduced us." Theirs was an innocent affair by today's standards. (From lack of opportunity, not desire, my aunt always insisted.) Three days and only two tentative kisses later, she left the train at Los Angeles in tears, while my uncle continued on to San Diego to board his ship—bound for Pearl Harbor. They exchanged letters for close to a year and married the very day he arrived stateside again—not an unusual thing in wartime, but a bit scandalous in a straight-laced family like ours. They went on to have two handsome, successful sons, a number of adoring grandchildren, and a life rich in family memories, rewarding careers, world travel, and above all—lasting love and respect for one another. Sixty-two years later, they still behaved like young lovers, still held hands while they watched TV, and still adhered to their lifelong rule of sharing a tender goodnight kiss, no matter how difficult their day had been.
Shortly before my uncle's death, I gave them a rerecorded collection of songs popular during WWII, and as I watched them dance together to "The White Cliffs of Dover"— their favorite wartime melody— I was moved to tears. The tall young naval officer was now a sadly gaunt, stumbling shadow of the man he'd once been, with no remaining memories of evading German U-boats in the North Atlantic nor of the horrendous landing on that bloody beach in Normandy. The pretty young nurse's hair had gone snow-white, and both of them suffered from arthritis and poor eyesight, but the love and devotion in their eyes was unmistakable—"Everlasting." Ten days later, when he passed away, he went gently into that good night with my aunt at his bedside, still holding the hand of the man she'd adored her entire life.
Perhaps because they're about long-term marriages or relationships, many of our books deal at some point with loss. The very first book in the Everlasting series, Linda Cardillo's moving "Dancing on Sunday Afternoons," tells the story of an Italian woman who still mourns the loss of the firebrand husband lost in the tumultuous union struggles of the early twentieth century. At the end of her life, though, she finally discovers that the true love of her life has been right there with her all along—in the loving and steadfast person of her second, though less glamorous husband.
Since that first book, the "Everlastings" have tried to explore, in differing aspects, what it is that allows love to last—to survive marital turmoil, loss, and even heartbreak. Our books say that love—real love—can survive anything. That true love can endure almost anything--family estrangement, separation, distrust and suspicion, death, divorce, dark secrets and long-held resentments. Extra-marital affairs and even the simple boredom and the apathy inherent in long term marriage can be overcome, and once survived, can even make a good but troubled marriage stronger. In my own book, this month's "The Secret Dreams of Emily Porter," the heroine leaves an abusive and demeaning marriage only to face a new loss so deep she fears she can't survive it. When she tries to handle her grief by retreating into a world of dreams and memories, it takes a tremendous strength of will, a seemingly miraculous pregnancy, and the love and tender support of a stranger to make her understand that life must go on, and that it can be worth living.
This month's other "Everlasting" is Holly Jacobs' touching "The House on Briar Hill Road." It tells of a different kind of love and loss-- the loss to cancer of a beloved mother-in-law, who has become more like a mother to the book's lonely young heroine. That is the essential message of these books—that life can and must go on, through good times and bad, through joy and heartbreak, through love's exhilaration and tragedy's worst blows. To paraphrase the words of a song popular in the sixties, "If the song is to go on, we must do the singing."
And in somewhat the same way, the "Everlasting Love" series will go on-- in a different format, perhaps, and under a different banner, but we'll still be here, still believing that lasting love is worth looking for, and still worth writing about. For every great love has a story to tell.
He was one of the most honest, decent men I've ever known.
They met on a cross-country train trip, during WWII—when he was still a handsome young naval officer on his way to ship out and she a student nurse. "It was really a pickup!" she told her older sister—my mother. "But I told Mom my best friend introduced us." Theirs was an innocent affair by today's standards. (From lack of opportunity, not desire, my aunt always insisted.) Three days and only two tentative kisses later, she left the train at Los Angeles in tears, while my uncle continued on to San Diego to board his ship—bound for Pearl Harbor. They exchanged letters for close to a year and married the very day he arrived stateside again—not an unusual thing in wartime, but a bit scandalous in a straight-laced family like ours. They went on to have two handsome, successful sons, a number of adoring grandchildren, and a life rich in family memories, rewarding careers, world travel, and above all—lasting love and respect for one another. Sixty-two years later, they still behaved like young lovers, still held hands while they watched TV, and still adhered to their lifelong rule of sharing a tender goodnight kiss, no matter how difficult their day had been.
Shortly before my uncle's death, I gave them a rerecorded collection of songs popular during WWII, and as I watched them dance together to "The White Cliffs of Dover"— their favorite wartime melody— I was moved to tears. The tall young naval officer was now a sadly gaunt, stumbling shadow of the man he'd once been, with no remaining memories of evading German U-boats in the North Atlantic nor of the horrendous landing on that bloody beach in Normandy. The pretty young nurse's hair had gone snow-white, and both of them suffered from arthritis and poor eyesight, but the love and devotion in their eyes was unmistakable—"Everlasting." Ten days later, when he passed away, he went gently into that good night with my aunt at his bedside, still holding the hand of the man she'd adored her entire life.
Perhaps because they're about long-term marriages or relationships, many of our books deal at some point with loss. The very first book in the Everlasting series, Linda Cardillo's moving "Dancing on Sunday Afternoons," tells the story of an Italian woman who still mourns the loss of the firebrand husband lost in the tumultuous union struggles of the early twentieth century. At the end of her life, though, she finally discovers that the true love of her life has been right there with her all along—in the loving and steadfast person of her second, though less glamorous husband.
Since that first book, the "Everlastings" have tried to explore, in differing aspects, what it is that allows love to last—to survive marital turmoil, loss, and even heartbreak. Our books say that love—real love—can survive anything. That true love can endure almost anything--family estrangement, separation, distrust and suspicion, death, divorce, dark secrets and long-held resentments. Extra-marital affairs and even the simple boredom and the apathy inherent in long term marriage can be overcome, and once survived, can even make a good but troubled marriage stronger. In my own book, this month's "The Secret Dreams of Emily Porter," the heroine leaves an abusive and demeaning marriage only to face a new loss so deep she fears she can't survive it. When she tries to handle her grief by retreating into a world of dreams and memories, it takes a tremendous strength of will, a seemingly miraculous pregnancy, and the love and tender support of a stranger to make her understand that life must go on, and that it can be worth living.
This month's other "Everlasting" is Holly Jacobs' touching "The House on Briar Hill Road." It tells of a different kind of love and loss-- the loss to cancer of a beloved mother-in-law, who has become more like a mother to the book's lonely young heroine. That is the essential message of these books—that life can and must go on, through good times and bad, through joy and heartbreak, through love's exhilaration and tragedy's worst blows. To paraphrase the words of a song popular in the sixties, "If the song is to go on, we must do the singing."
And in somewhat the same way, the "Everlasting Love" series will go on-- in a different format, perhaps, and under a different banner, but we'll still be here, still believing that lasting love is worth looking for, and still worth writing about. For every great love has a story to tell.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Comfort Food and Family
When my husband and I were first married, we ate the usual newlyweds-type food: a lot of soup and sandwiches, spaghetti, more soups, toast. . . whatever didn't take a lot of time or money to create. We were both good cooks but we were young and on a very tight budget.
Later, we grew into fancier foods. My husband came from California so we ate burritos and enchiladas before they were common fare for people. We bought a wok and stir fried all kinds of dishes. We tried dishes from other countries after joining a supper group and the simpler meals vanished from our kitchen.
About this time, we added two children to our lives. We'd been married a while by then and money wasn't quite as tight. Every now and then, we'd have mac and cheese for the boys but most of our meals required a cookbook and fresh ingredients. Shopping meant we'd try out a new fruit from the produce section -- we knew the produce manager by name.
When our youngest son was in preschool, he came home one day all excited. "Guess what, Mom? I got to help in the kitchen for lunch today. We took some hamburger, smashed it together with an egg, added some oatmeal, and made it into a ball we cooked in the oven. Then we put catsup on it and gave everybody a piece."
I stared at him in shock. My mom would serve a simple salad, a baked potato, and the slabs of her meat loaf at least a couple times a month. It was a great way to stretch the meat for a family with four growing children. Here was my son, who had tasted all kinds of exotic fruits, describing in detail how to make what had been a constant in both his dad and his mom's family growing up.
Later that week, I made a meat loaf with him. I told him how I used to help Grandma make meat loaf for his uncles and aunt. There was a comfort in watching the meat loaf bake in the oven, with paprika potatoes spread around the pan. We made a simple tossed salad and warmed up some green beans. And now, every once in a while, I make a meat loaf for supper as a reminder of the family that I come from and the family that I now have.
-------
An Oven Meal with Meat Loaf and Paprika Potatoes
This is a variation of the recipe my mom used. I found the recipe in a cookbook we received as a wedding gift and our family loves it. I did adapt a few things, using some of my mom's 'tricks.' The amount for the glaze ingredients, for instance, was always done without true measuring. She would just pour and scoop until she had the right consistency. You'll have to see what works for you.
1 3-ounce can chopped mushrooms
Milk
1 slightly beaten egg
1 1/2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups soft bread crumbs or crushed crackers
2 tbsp catsup
2 tbsp brown sugar
orange juice
Dash of pepper
1/2 teaspoon dry mustard
1 1/2 pounds lean ground beef
3 medium baking potatoes
2 tbsp butter, melted
Paprika
Drain the chopped mushrooms, saving the liquid. Add enough milk to the mushroom liquid to make 1/2 cup. Combine liquid, egg, Worcestershire sauce, seasonings, and bread crumbs (crackers). Let stand about 5 minutes. Stir in beef and chopped mushrooms. Mix lightly but thoroughly.
Shape into loaf in 13x9x2 inch baking dish. Halve the potatoes lengthwise. Make diagonal slashes in cut surfaces of the potatoes. Layer around the meat loaf. Brush the potatoes with the melted butter. Season with salt and pepper.
Bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour. Sprinkle potatoes with paprika. Combine brown sugar, catsup, and orange juice to make a glaze. Spread over meat loaf. Bake 15 more minutes. Serve with salad, green beans, and ice cream for dessert.
Tessa McDermid
Later, we grew into fancier foods. My husband came from California so we ate burritos and enchiladas before they were common fare for people. We bought a wok and stir fried all kinds of dishes. We tried dishes from other countries after joining a supper group and the simpler meals vanished from our kitchen.
About this time, we added two children to our lives. We'd been married a while by then and money wasn't quite as tight. Every now and then, we'd have mac and cheese for the boys but most of our meals required a cookbook and fresh ingredients. Shopping meant we'd try out a new fruit from the produce section -- we knew the produce manager by name.
When our youngest son was in preschool, he came home one day all excited. "Guess what, Mom? I got to help in the kitchen for lunch today. We took some hamburger, smashed it together with an egg, added some oatmeal, and made it into a ball we cooked in the oven. Then we put catsup on it and gave everybody a piece."
I stared at him in shock. My mom would serve a simple salad, a baked potato, and the slabs of her meat loaf at least a couple times a month. It was a great way to stretch the meat for a family with four growing children. Here was my son, who had tasted all kinds of exotic fruits, describing in detail how to make what had been a constant in both his dad and his mom's family growing up.
Later that week, I made a meat loaf with him. I told him how I used to help Grandma make meat loaf for his uncles and aunt. There was a comfort in watching the meat loaf bake in the oven, with paprika potatoes spread around the pan. We made a simple tossed salad and warmed up some green beans. And now, every once in a while, I make a meat loaf for supper as a reminder of the family that I come from and the family that I now have.
-------
An Oven Meal with Meat Loaf and Paprika Potatoes
This is a variation of the recipe my mom used. I found the recipe in a cookbook we received as a wedding gift and our family loves it. I did adapt a few things, using some of my mom's 'tricks.' The amount for the glaze ingredients, for instance, was always done without true measuring. She would just pour and scoop until she had the right consistency. You'll have to see what works for you.
1 3-ounce can chopped mushrooms
Milk
1 slightly beaten egg
1 1/2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups soft bread crumbs or crushed crackers
2 tbsp catsup
2 tbsp brown sugar
orange juice
Dash of pepper
1/2 teaspoon dry mustard
1 1/2 pounds lean ground beef
3 medium baking potatoes
2 tbsp butter, melted
Paprika
Drain the chopped mushrooms, saving the liquid. Add enough milk to the mushroom liquid to make 1/2 cup. Combine liquid, egg, Worcestershire sauce, seasonings, and bread crumbs (crackers). Let stand about 5 minutes. Stir in beef and chopped mushrooms. Mix lightly but thoroughly.
Shape into loaf in 13x9x2 inch baking dish. Halve the potatoes lengthwise. Make diagonal slashes in cut surfaces of the potatoes. Layer around the meat loaf. Brush the potatoes with the melted butter. Season with salt and pepper.
Bake at 350 degrees for 1 hour. Sprinkle potatoes with paprika. Combine brown sugar, catsup, and orange juice to make a glaze. Spread over meat loaf. Bake 15 more minutes. Serve with salad, green beans, and ice cream for dessert.
Tessa McDermid
Friday, October 19, 2007
Love Is In The Air and Everywhere
Friday blogs are set aside by the Everlasting Love authors to talk about love and romance.
We write a lot about it, but is love being overshadowed by too many hardships and worries that abound in today's world?
I look around and I see people rushing everywhere. As you sit at stoplights people are on cell phones, frowns on their faces. Or they're tapping their fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. I look at them and wonder---did they kiss a spouse or their child goodbye before they started out for whatever was making them frown so.
I've heard in general that while paperback romance sales are still the highest of any genre in the bookstores, that overall sales have dropped. And the genre is being broken into many sub genres. As I look over the shelves of books I wonder if people are looking for other elements in books because they're unsure love still exists.
That's why I think the stories in Everlasting Love are so great. They show enduring love. They show that in spite of ups and downs, stresses and hardship, that people come out better if they have a partner to lean on and to love. I hope we aren't getting too preoccupied and too frenzied and overwhelmed by life and all that swirls around us in uncertain times to stop believing in love. I'd be interested to know what fellow writers and of most of all readers who still reach for a warm, satisfying love story think--
Roz
We write a lot about it, but is love being overshadowed by too many hardships and worries that abound in today's world?
I look around and I see people rushing everywhere. As you sit at stoplights people are on cell phones, frowns on their faces. Or they're tapping their fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. I look at them and wonder---did they kiss a spouse or their child goodbye before they started out for whatever was making them frown so.
I've heard in general that while paperback romance sales are still the highest of any genre in the bookstores, that overall sales have dropped. And the genre is being broken into many sub genres. As I look over the shelves of books I wonder if people are looking for other elements in books because they're unsure love still exists.
That's why I think the stories in Everlasting Love are so great. They show enduring love. They show that in spite of ups and downs, stresses and hardship, that people come out better if they have a partner to lean on and to love. I hope we aren't getting too preoccupied and too frenzied and overwhelmed by life and all that swirls around us in uncertain times to stop believing in love. I'd be interested to know what fellow writers and of most of all readers who still reach for a warm, satisfying love story think--
Roz
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Resistance
I just finished reading "The War of Art" by Steven Pressfield. It's a wonderful book for anyone in the creative arts, but truly, for any of us. Pressfield's premise is that "Resistance" follows us whenever we're about to embark upon a journey or reach an accomplishment that will improve our souls, touch other's hearts, make a difference in the world.
Resistance can be in the form of procrastination (my favorite), obsession with anything but what you need to get done (is this why I must find that perfect tea to drink desk-side while I'm writing?), and pure avoidance--taking a nap.
I'm simplifying what is an amazing book by Pressfield, and an age-old idea. For some reason, as human beings, we find it easier to fight our innermost desires than to show up at bat and swing for it!
This applies to the Everlasting Love of our lives, doesn't it? If we've been in a long-term relationship, blessed with years of loving, we see this. One or the other partner can loose interest, the relationship can be broken--there's always a threat. But with sustenance in the form of time, an open mind, and a healthy dose of humor, we can keep Resistance at bay in our lives and keep our relationships and families healthy and happy.
What if you don't have a family? What if your family is say, your pet? Resistance shows up in the dog who prefers the living room rug to the backyard for toilet duty, doesn't it? With patience and love, most all dogs can be house trained.
In case you haven't figured it out, I'm fighting Resistance as I type this. I have a proposal due tomorrow, and I'm fighting the sudden desire to knit, eat chocolate, see what's on TV, make a crockpot meal, clean out the garage or basement. These are all things (save for the knitting and chocolate) that will disappear from my conscious thoughts the moment the proposal is in the mail.
I keep my Resistance at bay the best when I simply accept it for what it is and move forward. I want a career as a novelist. I desire to bring fulfilling love stories to the page. Stories that will change a reader's heart and offer hope. This trumps any procrastination skill I've developed, no matter how fun at the time.
What's your Resistance to? How does it manifest? More importantly, how do you defeat it?
Resistance can be in the form of procrastination (my favorite), obsession with anything but what you need to get done (is this why I must find that perfect tea to drink desk-side while I'm writing?), and pure avoidance--taking a nap.
I'm simplifying what is an amazing book by Pressfield, and an age-old idea. For some reason, as human beings, we find it easier to fight our innermost desires than to show up at bat and swing for it!
This applies to the Everlasting Love of our lives, doesn't it? If we've been in a long-term relationship, blessed with years of loving, we see this. One or the other partner can loose interest, the relationship can be broken--there's always a threat. But with sustenance in the form of time, an open mind, and a healthy dose of humor, we can keep Resistance at bay in our lives and keep our relationships and families healthy and happy.
What if you don't have a family? What if your family is say, your pet? Resistance shows up in the dog who prefers the living room rug to the backyard for toilet duty, doesn't it? With patience and love, most all dogs can be house trained.
In case you haven't figured it out, I'm fighting Resistance as I type this. I have a proposal due tomorrow, and I'm fighting the sudden desire to knit, eat chocolate, see what's on TV, make a crockpot meal, clean out the garage or basement. These are all things (save for the knitting and chocolate) that will disappear from my conscious thoughts the moment the proposal is in the mail.
I keep my Resistance at bay the best when I simply accept it for what it is and move forward. I want a career as a novelist. I desire to bring fulfilling love stories to the page. Stories that will change a reader's heart and offer hope. This trumps any procrastination skill I've developed, no matter how fun at the time.
What's your Resistance to? How does it manifest? More importantly, how do you defeat it?
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Face-to-Face with My Readers
I’ve just gotten home from a two-hour meeting with a book club that had read my February 2007 EL, DANCING ON SUNDAY AFTERNOONS. It was one of the most stimulating discussions I’ve had with readers, ranging from musings about whether my heroine, Giulia, felt fulfilled at the end of her life or had regrets; the role (and power) of women in traditional immigrant families; the balance and tension in close-knit families between nurturing support and stifling judgment; and the research I had done to place the story in the context of what was happening in the world my characters inhabited.
It occurred to me that someone reading the above paragraph describing our conversation might be surprised to learn that this group of highly educated, sophisticated readers (their choice for next month is Nobel Laureate Doris Lessing’s THE GOLDEN NOTEBOOK) were talking about a Harlequin romance. It is no surprise to those of us who write Everlasting Love stories. We are weaving complex, deeply satisfying tales of women and men facing and overcoming the challenges of sustaining love.
I’m currently reading Robert McKee’s STORY, a book on the craft of writing. He writes that readers turn to stories to answer the question posed by Aristotle: How should a human being live his life? The women in tonight’s book group agreed. And what they found in and took from DANCING intrigued me. DANCING, like all of the Everlasting Love stories I’ve read so far, is a very particular story, deeply rooted in a culture and a time and a place: the journey (both literal and figurative) of a young Italian immigrant woman in turn-of-the-century New York. Many of the women in tonight’s group were Iranian, and the book’s themes resonated with them, despite the differences between their lives and Giulia’s. As a friend once said to me after reading DANCING, “Linda, you don’t have to be Italian to understand DANCING. You just have to have grown up in a family.”
We Everlasting Love writers hope that readers continue to recognize themselves in our books, and take heart and hope from our characters’ triumphs.
It occurred to me that someone reading the above paragraph describing our conversation might be surprised to learn that this group of highly educated, sophisticated readers (their choice for next month is Nobel Laureate Doris Lessing’s THE GOLDEN NOTEBOOK) were talking about a Harlequin romance. It is no surprise to those of us who write Everlasting Love stories. We are weaving complex, deeply satisfying tales of women and men facing and overcoming the challenges of sustaining love.
I’m currently reading Robert McKee’s STORY, a book on the craft of writing. He writes that readers turn to stories to answer the question posed by Aristotle: How should a human being live his life? The women in tonight’s book group agreed. And what they found in and took from DANCING intrigued me. DANCING, like all of the Everlasting Love stories I’ve read so far, is a very particular story, deeply rooted in a culture and a time and a place: the journey (both literal and figurative) of a young Italian immigrant woman in turn-of-the-century New York. Many of the women in tonight’s group were Iranian, and the book’s themes resonated with them, despite the differences between their lives and Giulia’s. As a friend once said to me after reading DANCING, “Linda, you don’t have to be Italian to understand DANCING. You just have to have grown up in a family.”
We Everlasting Love writers hope that readers continue to recognize themselves in our books, and take heart and hope from our characters’ triumphs.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Tasty Tuesdays bring out the baker in me.
I love food and cooking, but not cleaning up afterward. Being the second oldest of four children in a house where all the children had chores, mine was to bake. My baking career at our house started one fall day when I stayed home from school, claiming I was ill. I wasn't ill, I was bored, but I couldn't give that as a reason because my mom was a school teacher who believed that you had to be SERIOUSLY ill to ever want to stay home from school.
To compensenate for my less than desirable behavior, I made a pan of chocolate brownies that when cooked resembled a huge slab of burned flour! Not great, but a beginning.
The recipe I'm offering today is one that makes a pan of squares with ingredients we all have in our kitchen, and with Halloween approaching, I imagine you all have some kind of chocolate bar that is made of chocolate and caramel.
As a matter of interest, I don't know if any of you do this, but I'm on my second box of "Halloween" treats--treats I bought way too soon and have been slowly devouring.
I'll be back buying more for the big night if I don't get my husband to hide them where I can't find them. He doesn't know this, but there's no place in this house where I couldn't find a Halloween treat, but I don't want to ruin his hunt for the perfect hiding place.
No wonder Weight Watchers loves me!
Now, back to the recipe.
Ingredients;
4 Mars Bars or chocolate bars with caramel.
1/4 cup of margarine
3cups of Rice Krispies
1cup of chocolate chips.
1/4 cup of margarine
Here's the easy part.
Melt the bars and the margarine together. Stir in the Rice Krispies and place in a 8 inch by 8 inch
pan.
Melt I cup of chocolate chips with 1/4 cup of margarine and pour it over the Rice Krispy mixture.
That's all there is to it. I've never had these last past breakfast the day after I make them. But then again, every one in my house is a chocolate lover.
I've actually caught members of my family having one of these squares for breakfast, claiming that it was a breakfast cereal!
To compensenate for my less than desirable behavior, I made a pan of chocolate brownies that when cooked resembled a huge slab of burned flour! Not great, but a beginning.
The recipe I'm offering today is one that makes a pan of squares with ingredients we all have in our kitchen, and with Halloween approaching, I imagine you all have some kind of chocolate bar that is made of chocolate and caramel.
As a matter of interest, I don't know if any of you do this, but I'm on my second box of "Halloween" treats--treats I bought way too soon and have been slowly devouring.
I'll be back buying more for the big night if I don't get my husband to hide them where I can't find them. He doesn't know this, but there's no place in this house where I couldn't find a Halloween treat, but I don't want to ruin his hunt for the perfect hiding place.
No wonder Weight Watchers loves me!
Now, back to the recipe.
Ingredients;
4 Mars Bars or chocolate bars with caramel.
1/4 cup of margarine
3cups of Rice Krispies
1cup of chocolate chips.
1/4 cup of margarine
Here's the easy part.
Melt the bars and the margarine together. Stir in the Rice Krispies and place in a 8 inch by 8 inch
pan.
Melt I cup of chocolate chips with 1/4 cup of margarine and pour it over the Rice Krispy mixture.
That's all there is to it. I've never had these last past breakfast the day after I make them. But then again, every one in my house is a chocolate lover.
I've actually caught members of my family having one of these squares for breakfast, claiming that it was a breakfast cereal!
Monday, October 15, 2007
Magical Mondays
There's nothing like going to a wedding to recapture the wonder and magic of love at the dawn of a relationship. The joy and excitement of the happy couple as they exchange vows before family and friends in anticipation of all the years to come. Their certainty that their love can withstand anything.
What I find especially encouraging, though, are the number of couples I've met recently who fifty-and even sixty-plus years later are still just as in love--if not more so--than they were when they made their vows. They still hold hands, they still exchange loving looks, they're sensitive to each other's needs. They've come through all the difficulties and proved their early certainty right.
It wasn't easy. They would undoubtedly be the first to say that. But they'd also be the first to say it was well worth all the effort.
Everlasting Love. It happens.
Ginger
What I find especially encouraging, though, are the number of couples I've met recently who fifty-and even sixty-plus years later are still just as in love--if not more so--than they were when they made their vows. They still hold hands, they still exchange loving looks, they're sensitive to each other's needs. They've come through all the difficulties and proved their early certainty right.
It wasn't easy. They would undoubtedly be the first to say that. But they'd also be the first to say it was well worth all the effort.
Everlasting Love. It happens.
Ginger
Friday, October 12, 2007
Here comes the weekend.
I love Fridays, mostly because I can slow down the pace, and think about doing something different for a couple of days. So, what's on for this weekend? There's always shopping and groceries, and of course doing just enough housework to be able to get through the week.
This weekend is also great for working outside. Where I live the leaves are changing colors and beginning to slip earthward on even the slightest breeze. But there still isn't enough to warrant getting out the big rake and going at it. Just enough leaves to create abstract patterns on the lawn.
What's truly special about this weekend is that my husband and I are going to plan our very first trip to England. We've wanted to go for years, and we finally have the money set aside. I've never planned such a trip, and I'm really looking forward to it. If anyone has suggestions of places in England they've visited, or things they've done in England, I'd love to hear about them. Who knows, maybe there's story in this trip. Everlasting Love and England go together, don't they? With that in mind, I'm going to buy a journal.
This weekend is also great for working outside. Where I live the leaves are changing colors and beginning to slip earthward on even the slightest breeze. But there still isn't enough to warrant getting out the big rake and going at it. Just enough leaves to create abstract patterns on the lawn.
What's truly special about this weekend is that my husband and I are going to plan our very first trip to England. We've wanted to go for years, and we finally have the money set aside. I've never planned such a trip, and I'm really looking forward to it. If anyone has suggestions of places in England they've visited, or things they've done in England, I'd love to hear about them. Who knows, maybe there's story in this trip. Everlasting Love and England go together, don't they? With that in mind, I'm going to buy a journal.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Love and the Modern Grandma
I'm thinking about my grandchildren today as I do every day. All three live over a thousand miles away from me in two different states. And I worry that they won’t know me. That they won’t know their grandpa either. My husband and I sometimes feel like jet-setters flying to each son’s house twice a year. If we’re lucky, we might even meet up for a third time somehow. But, in fact, my four-and-a-half-year-old granddaughter has seen us no more than ten times - and that counts when she was born! It’s not enough. It’s not how I imagined my life as a grandma.
I’d dreamed of Sunday afternoon dinners at my house. I dreamed of cuddling on the couch and reading stories together or going to the park together. I dreamed of spur-of-the-moment times when we could whip up some chocolate pudding in my kitchen. I dreamed of riding bikes with them and watching their soccer games on a Tuesday evening. I want to cuddle the new baby all the time.
I know I’m not the only grandma who loves from afar. Or who orders pictures over the Internet as soon as my daughters-in-law post new ones to my InBox. Or who's covered her refrigerator from corner to corner with photos of the kids.
In today’s world, families go where the jobs are. My husband and I did that, ourselves, and wound up in Texas a dozen years ago. I understand about earning a living. I understand about supporting a family. But it doesn’t mean I have to like the fallout. In fact, it’s breaking my heart.
So, I’m retiring from my day job and buying a laptop computer to write my stories when Grandpa and I visit the kids next year. We’ll stay for a week instead of a weekend. I know the visits will provide more time and opportunity for shared activities which, in turn, build memories. And the best part? My wonderful daughters-in-law are waiting with open arms. I think they can’t wait for me to cook!
Hugs to grandmas and grandpas everywhere whether your little ones are next door or across the country.
Linda, who's jet-setting with Grandpa again this weekend...and next!
I’d dreamed of Sunday afternoon dinners at my house. I dreamed of cuddling on the couch and reading stories together or going to the park together. I dreamed of spur-of-the-moment times when we could whip up some chocolate pudding in my kitchen. I dreamed of riding bikes with them and watching their soccer games on a Tuesday evening. I want to cuddle the new baby all the time.
I know I’m not the only grandma who loves from afar. Or who orders pictures over the Internet as soon as my daughters-in-law post new ones to my InBox. Or who's covered her refrigerator from corner to corner with photos of the kids.
In today’s world, families go where the jobs are. My husband and I did that, ourselves, and wound up in Texas a dozen years ago. I understand about earning a living. I understand about supporting a family. But it doesn’t mean I have to like the fallout. In fact, it’s breaking my heart.
So, I’m retiring from my day job and buying a laptop computer to write my stories when Grandpa and I visit the kids next year. We’ll stay for a week instead of a weekend. I know the visits will provide more time and opportunity for shared activities which, in turn, build memories. And the best part? My wonderful daughters-in-law are waiting with open arms. I think they can’t wait for me to cook!
Hugs to grandmas and grandpas everywhere whether your little ones are next door or across the country.
Linda, who's jet-setting with Grandpa again this weekend...and next!
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Let's Make Lemonade
Many years ago a Greek philosopher was sitting around in his toga pondering the universe when he came up with the concept that the only constant is change. What a smart guy! And he wasn't even involved in the publishing industry. LOL Last week the Lovely Ladies of this blog were informed that January 2008 would be the last month for Everlasting Love as a stand-alone series. Instead, most of the books already under contract would be folded in the Superromance series.
Once I got recovered from my "are you kidding me" reaction, I decided I needed to come up with a game plan. Not only am I a certified planner, I'm also one of those annoying "the glass is half-full" kind of girls. All weekend I pondered this situation. We love our books, we promote them, we even blog about them. They're almost like our children - not really, they don't ask to borrow the car. But back to the constant of change. It's like death and taxes - it simply is. So for me personally, I plan to make lemonade out of this bowl of lemons.
And just in case you need a good recipe, here it is.
Fresh Lemonade
1 1/2 cups sugar
1/2 cup boiling water
1 1/2 cups fresh lemon juice (6 to 8 large lemons)
5 cups cold water
Combine sugar and boiling water; stirring until sugar dissolves. Add lemon juice and cold water; stir well Cover and chill. Serve over ice.
Ann DeFee
Summer After Summer - Harlequin Everlasting Love - September 2007
The Perfect Tree - Harlequin American Romance - November 2007
Goin' Down to Georgia - Harlequin American Romance - March 2008
Once I got recovered from my "are you kidding me" reaction, I decided I needed to come up with a game plan. Not only am I a certified planner, I'm also one of those annoying "the glass is half-full" kind of girls. All weekend I pondered this situation. We love our books, we promote them, we even blog about them. They're almost like our children - not really, they don't ask to borrow the car. But back to the constant of change. It's like death and taxes - it simply is. So for me personally, I plan to make lemonade out of this bowl of lemons.
And just in case you need a good recipe, here it is.
Fresh Lemonade
1 1/2 cups sugar
1/2 cup boiling water
1 1/2 cups fresh lemon juice (6 to 8 large lemons)
5 cups cold water
Combine sugar and boiling water; stirring until sugar dissolves. Add lemon juice and cold water; stir well Cover and chill. Serve over ice.
Ann DeFee
Summer After Summer - Harlequin Everlasting Love - September 2007
The Perfect Tree - Harlequin American Romance - November 2007
Goin' Down to Georgia - Harlequin American Romance - March 2008
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Fall Is In The Air
The air is crisp, the mornings are getting into the slightly foggy days of fall. It's the time of year I love best. It kicks off the holiday season. Our books are about families, and family is all about tradition. Let's take Halloween. It's coming up soon. I've already decorated my house with smiling jackolanterns, a few ghosts and scarecrows. I'm not sure when this holiday turned dark and menacing. Today I walked the neighborhood and others are beginning to put up their decorations. When did this get to be about spider webs and big, yucky, spiders? I saw terrible skulls and things that looked scary to me in daylight as an adult. What of little kids who come knocking at those doors on Halloween night? Will they laugh or be scared out of their minds for seasons to come. When I took my kids trick-or-treating, neighbors dressed up in happy witch costumes, or clowns, or other funny things and made it an enjoyable time for the kidlets bringing their sacks to the door.
I guess I'm rambling, but I love holiday traditions that leave people happy and smiling. I'm not sure the new trend in Halloween is the best turn of events. It's time for others to weigh in on the subject. My motto for the month is: Happy Halloween!
Roz
I guess I'm rambling, but I love holiday traditions that leave people happy and smiling. I'm not sure the new trend in Halloween is the best turn of events. It's time for others to weigh in on the subject. My motto for the month is: Happy Halloween!
Roz
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Surviving
Survival
For me, the best thing about writing women's fiction has been having the opportunity to explore what it actually means to be a woman in today's world. We all know that the better romance novels today bear very little resemblance to the romances our mothers read. Over the years, they've evolved from tales of charmingly helpless creatures in constant need of rescue from their handsome heroes to insightful treatments of virtually every aspect of the modern female experience.
And that's what the Everlasting Romances were all about. I say "were," because as some of you may already know, Harlequin's "Everlasting" series is about to be absorbed by the "Superromance" series. I think I'm speaking for most of EL "lovelies" when I say that we’re all hoping the important underlying message of the Everlasting stories won’t be lost in the transition. And from my point of view, at least, that message has been about the astonishing strength and endurance of what I'll call—for lack of a more original term—the "average" woman. There's no such thing, of course, as an average woman. Every woman is unique, but we do share certain characteristics worth discussing, and strength and durability are two of the most obvious.
Years ago, shortly after the birth of my daughter, I read a very short newspaper article about a mother and father who had taken their four children on a beach camping trip. While the parents were some distance away, unpacking the car, a freak wave swept away all of their children. I never found out what happened to these stricken parents—how, or even if they were able to survive such a horrifying loss.
Since then, I've known another couple who witnessed, and endured, the slaughter of all five of their young children at the hands of the Nazis. A wonderfully loving, generous couple who somehow managed to survive the horror and turn unspeakable anguish into good by helping others. Such astonishing courage, while admirable, is almost impossible for most of us to comprehend.
How do they do it? We've all heard about marriages that fall apart under stress. What is it about some relationships that enable them to survive, while others fail? People fall in love every day. They get married, have children, buy homes, mow lawns, and go to PTA meetings. And more than half of these marriages eventually collapse.
Several Lovelies have already addressed, in this blog, what makes a relationship last. Maybe it doesn't matter. To paraphrase the plaintive inquiry of one female character in Tennessee Williams' "Night of the Iguana," why is it that the test of everything has to be its durability? Most of us can appreciate and maybe even experienced the kind of romantic episode that lights up the sky like a shooting star. Sparks fly, fireworks light up the night sky, and then it's over. The effervescent bubbles in the champagne go flat, but we're left with a lovely memory. If we're absolutely honest with ourselves, those short-term "flights to the moon on gossamer wings" are probably a lot more fun that the long-term kind. No strings, no long-term commitments, no mortgages, no kids—just momentary pleasure. Let's face it. Waking up with the same person every day for forty or fifty years can get pretty old—through good times and bad, in sickness and health and all that fal-da-ral. Ugh! To quote the always wise Dorothy Parker:
"Drink and dance and laugh and lie,
Love, the reeling midnight through.
For tomorrow we shall die!
(But, alas, we never do.)"
Many thoughtful people have pointed out, in one way or another, that whatever can't be avoided must be endured—and survived. It sounds so simple and logical, right? But the fact is that many couples don't survive what happens to them. And while I don’t want to minimize the man's part in surviving crisis, my experience indicates that the "lionesss' share" of the credit usually goes to the woman. One of the best and most reliable things about women is that ability to survive—an inherent ability probably instilled in our makeup by countless generations of child rearing. No mother can afford to die or give up when she has young to feed and protect. But I think the will to survive and endure goes beyond that. Someone (and once again, I don’t know who it was) once said that women are the "glue" that holds society together.
Everyone who wants to understand what makes women "tick" should rent "La Ciociara" ("Two Women",) that stunning Sophia Loren film of the early sixties about a courageous Italian woman who survives the devastation of WWII by sheer strength of will. Cicera (the mother) and her thirteen-year-old daughter escape their bomb-ravaged village destitute, only to be brutally raped on the road by a contingent of allied soldiers. The horrific experience embitters the girl and nearly destroys the grief-stricken mother when she is unable to protect her only child from the attack and its emotional consequences.
Well, it seems I've babbled on for a very long time, and probably overmade my point, but the message is still worth repeating. Women are the glue that holds everything together, and stories about women who do just that are what the Everlasting Love series will always be about—whatever our books are called. Please read them, and share the joy of love that lasts through time.
Judith Raxten- "The Secret Dreams of Emily Porter."
For me, the best thing about writing women's fiction has been having the opportunity to explore what it actually means to be a woman in today's world. We all know that the better romance novels today bear very little resemblance to the romances our mothers read. Over the years, they've evolved from tales of charmingly helpless creatures in constant need of rescue from their handsome heroes to insightful treatments of virtually every aspect of the modern female experience.
And that's what the Everlasting Romances were all about. I say "were," because as some of you may already know, Harlequin's "Everlasting" series is about to be absorbed by the "Superromance" series. I think I'm speaking for most of EL "lovelies" when I say that we’re all hoping the important underlying message of the Everlasting stories won’t be lost in the transition. And from my point of view, at least, that message has been about the astonishing strength and endurance of what I'll call—for lack of a more original term—the "average" woman. There's no such thing, of course, as an average woman. Every woman is unique, but we do share certain characteristics worth discussing, and strength and durability are two of the most obvious.
Years ago, shortly after the birth of my daughter, I read a very short newspaper article about a mother and father who had taken their four children on a beach camping trip. While the parents were some distance away, unpacking the car, a freak wave swept away all of their children. I never found out what happened to these stricken parents—how, or even if they were able to survive such a horrifying loss.
Since then, I've known another couple who witnessed, and endured, the slaughter of all five of their young children at the hands of the Nazis. A wonderfully loving, generous couple who somehow managed to survive the horror and turn unspeakable anguish into good by helping others. Such astonishing courage, while admirable, is almost impossible for most of us to comprehend.
How do they do it? We've all heard about marriages that fall apart under stress. What is it about some relationships that enable them to survive, while others fail? People fall in love every day. They get married, have children, buy homes, mow lawns, and go to PTA meetings. And more than half of these marriages eventually collapse.
Several Lovelies have already addressed, in this blog, what makes a relationship last. Maybe it doesn't matter. To paraphrase the plaintive inquiry of one female character in Tennessee Williams' "Night of the Iguana," why is it that the test of everything has to be its durability? Most of us can appreciate and maybe even experienced the kind of romantic episode that lights up the sky like a shooting star. Sparks fly, fireworks light up the night sky, and then it's over. The effervescent bubbles in the champagne go flat, but we're left with a lovely memory. If we're absolutely honest with ourselves, those short-term "flights to the moon on gossamer wings" are probably a lot more fun that the long-term kind. No strings, no long-term commitments, no mortgages, no kids—just momentary pleasure. Let's face it. Waking up with the same person every day for forty or fifty years can get pretty old—through good times and bad, in sickness and health and all that fal-da-ral. Ugh! To quote the always wise Dorothy Parker:
"Drink and dance and laugh and lie,
Love, the reeling midnight through.
For tomorrow we shall die!
(But, alas, we never do.)"
Many thoughtful people have pointed out, in one way or another, that whatever can't be avoided must be endured—and survived. It sounds so simple and logical, right? But the fact is that many couples don't survive what happens to them. And while I don’t want to minimize the man's part in surviving crisis, my experience indicates that the "lionesss' share" of the credit usually goes to the woman. One of the best and most reliable things about women is that ability to survive—an inherent ability probably instilled in our makeup by countless generations of child rearing. No mother can afford to die or give up when she has young to feed and protect. But I think the will to survive and endure goes beyond that. Someone (and once again, I don’t know who it was) once said that women are the "glue" that holds society together.
Everyone who wants to understand what makes women "tick" should rent "La Ciociara" ("Two Women",) that stunning Sophia Loren film of the early sixties about a courageous Italian woman who survives the devastation of WWII by sheer strength of will. Cicera (the mother) and her thirteen-year-old daughter escape their bomb-ravaged village destitute, only to be brutally raped on the road by a contingent of allied soldiers. The horrific experience embitters the girl and nearly destroys the grief-stricken mother when she is unable to protect her only child from the attack and its emotional consequences.
Well, it seems I've babbled on for a very long time, and probably overmade my point, but the message is still worth repeating. Women are the glue that holds everything together, and stories about women who do just that are what the Everlasting Love series will always be about—whatever our books are called. Please read them, and share the joy of love that lasts through time.
Judith Raxten- "The Secret Dreams of Emily Porter."
Monday, October 1, 2007
Feeding the Family
I'm deep in the midst of a new book about three generations of Italian-American women for whom food means more than physical nourishment. As I moved from my writing table to the kitchen table this week, I was struck by how much food connects my own family.
My daughter, who’s been living in Scotland for the last four years, recently returned home to do a post-baccalaureate program at a nearby college. Like my other two children, she’s a vegetarian and an athlete. On Sunday, she’ll be running the Portland Marathon, so we are eating a lot of carbs this week at our house. We both love to cook, but our schedules are particularly hectic right now and we sat on Monday evening to plan out a week of simple meals that will provide her with the fuel she’ll need to run her race. One of the easiest, and a staple at my mother’s table when I was growing up, is baked ziti. It can be thrown together in about twenty minutes, and while it bakes in the oven, you can make a salad (or sip a glass of wine).
Baked Ziti
1 pound ziti
½ pound ricotta
1 egg
1 quart tomato sauce (my mother, of course, made her own; but after an hour on the Mass Pike driving home from work, I reach for the glass jar in the pantry)
4 ounces shredded mozzarella
1. Boil the ziti until al dente. Drain.
2. Blend ricotta with egg.
3. Toss the ziti with tomato sauce in a baking dish.
4. Blend in ricotta-egg mixture.
5. Add more tomato sauce if it looks dry.
6. Bake for 30 minutes at 350 degrees.
7. Sprinkle top with mozzarella and bake for 5 more minutes until mozzarella is melted.
My daughter, who’s been living in Scotland for the last four years, recently returned home to do a post-baccalaureate program at a nearby college. Like my other two children, she’s a vegetarian and an athlete. On Sunday, she’ll be running the Portland Marathon, so we are eating a lot of carbs this week at our house. We both love to cook, but our schedules are particularly hectic right now and we sat on Monday evening to plan out a week of simple meals that will provide her with the fuel she’ll need to run her race. One of the easiest, and a staple at my mother’s table when I was growing up, is baked ziti. It can be thrown together in about twenty minutes, and while it bakes in the oven, you can make a salad (or sip a glass of wine).
When I went looking for this recipe, I remembered that I had put together a collection of "classics" for my daughter when she first left home and was cooking on her own. Many of the recipes, like this one, were passed on to me by my own mother.
Baked Ziti
1 pound ziti
½ pound ricotta
1 egg
1 quart tomato sauce (my mother, of course, made her own; but after an hour on the Mass Pike driving home from work, I reach for the glass jar in the pantry)
4 ounces shredded mozzarella
1. Boil the ziti until al dente. Drain.
2. Blend ricotta with egg.
3. Toss the ziti with tomato sauce in a baking dish.
4. Blend in ricotta-egg mixture.
5. Add more tomato sauce if it looks dry.
6. Bake for 30 minutes at 350 degrees.
7. Sprinkle top with mozzarella and bake for 5 more minutes until mozzarella is melted.
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